Captain Read online

  "It did look good," Lon said. "Men need more than three or four tries to get the hang of it, even after die simulators, but it's something I'd sure like to have when we really need it."

  "You and everyone else who's ever been there," Orlis said quietly, seriously. "Maybe this time it'll be a go."

  Maybe I'll get a chance to nose around and find out where this world is that we might get a contract for, Lon thought as he walked to Corps Headquarters. He chuckled at the fanciful image, knowing he would do nodiing of the kind. I'll find out soon enough if it turns up. No need to go looking for grief.

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  The Contracts section occupied much of the north wing of Corps Headquarters, on the ground floor and the first basement level. The largest part of Contracts was OSI, the Office of Strategic Intelligence. Its job was to collect information on all of the settled worlds possible: political, social, and economic conditions; enemies and allies; possibilities for employment.

  OSI maintained one of the most extensive databases in the galaxy. Most of the information was available to any officer in the Corps. OSI conducted investigations, when possible, before contracts were accepted and troops committed. With minimum round-trip transit times between worlds approaching a month, it was not always possible.

  During his weekly tours with Contracts, Lon had been shuffled from office to office with seeming abandon, working in two different OSI departments as well as in the contracts assessment department, which was Contracts' other primary division. He never knew until he reported in where he would be working any Monday. This time he was told to report to the audit office of OSI. That had nothing to do with finances. It was responsible for checking the accuracy of recent database entries. It was, in Lon's opinion, the most boring assignment in Contracts.

  It was almost a relief when Captain Zim, the officer in charge of the audit office, came to the complink Lon was working a little after nine o'clock and told him to report to the commanding officer of Contracts.

  "Yes, sir," Lon replied, logging off of the database while he spoke. "Any idea what it's about?"

  "Something the colonel wants you to look at," Zim said.

  Lieutenant Colonel Jorge Ruiz had his office on the first floor, with two windows facing the courtyard that held specimens of cannon spanning the previous thirteen centuries.

  "Come on in, Nolan." Ruiz was extremely informal inside the section's office space, standing on little ceremony except when it might be necessary to impress off-56

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  world visitors. "Have a seat." He waited until Lon was seated on one of the leather and bonewood chairs that faced his desk before he continued.

  "This might seem like some type of pop quiz to test how well you've learned your lessons here, but it's not," Ruiz said. Lon lifted an eyebrow. "I want you to examine a file and suggest a course of action. Unfortunately, I can't give you as much time as I'd like. Take until eleven-thirty hours. Reach your conclusions and have your reasons ready. We'll discuss it over lunch in the senior officers' mess."

  "Yes, sir," Lon said.

  Colonel Ruiz gave him the file name. "I'll tell Captain Zim that you're not to be disturbed, that you're working a special project for me."

  The interview took less than five minutes. Lon returned to the audit office and keyed his password and the file name into his complink. After less than a minute of scanning the preamble to the file, he knew this was the contract Captain Orlis had hinted at.

  Arguably, the food was no better in the senior officers' mess at Corps Headquarters than at any other mess on base, but it was served on fine china, wim fancier flatware and crystal glasses. The tables had real linen tablecloths. The salt and pepper shakers were crystal.

  Soft music played in the background. Waiters provided table service.

  "Well, what's your opinion?" Colonel Ruiz asked Lon after they had ordered lunch and the waiter had left.

  Lon shrugged. ' 'From the material I had to inspect, sir, I see no substantial distinction in the merits of the claims by the two colonies on Aldrin. They arrived separately from Earth, both with valid charters. They have remained separate throughout the intervening five centuries.

  There is nothing to suggest that either is morally preferable to the other. Now they have both begun to expand their numbers to the point where they are competing for the same new territories. I see no reason why the Corps should not feel free to accept a contract from either side, if one is offered, but—you do want my personal opinion, Colonel?" When Ruiz nodded, Lon said, "I think we might best serve Aldrin by offering mediation service between the two colonies, if necessary backed up by peacekeeping troops to provide a buffer until political agreement is reached."

  "You think that mediation and peacekeeping would be the Corps' best proposal?" Ruiz asked.

  "Based on the material available to me, yes, sir."

  ' 'And if one or both sides declined that proposal?''

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  "Well, sir, if both sides declined, then I don't see that the equation has changed. There is still no real difference between the two. However, if one accepted—honestly and not as some sort of transparent ploy—while the other declined, then I would suggest that we might favor the side that had accepted the offer, if they proffered a contract."

  Their lunch arrived, and the conversation was tabled until the waiter was gone and they had tasted the food.

  "One more question, Nolan," Ruiz said after dabbing at his lips with a linen napkin.

  "Hypothetical. Supposing that the Corps offered mediation and peacekeeping, one side

  accepted and the other declined, but it was the side that declined our offer that was willing and able to contract for military services?"

  This time Lon hesitated before he ventured his reply. "I wouldn't presume to offer an opinion based solely on the information I read this morning, Colonel. I think it would depend on the reasons this side advanced for declining the offer of mediation and peacekeeping, and what our own investigations of those reasons turned up."

  Colonel Ruiz was silent for a time, not paying attention to his food or really looking at Lon.

  "I do know one thing, Colonel," Lon said. "Going in on a contract. The men like to think that they're on the side of the good guys. If they thought otherwise, I'm not certain that tiieir performance would be quite up to the same standard."

  "I know that, Nolan. I haven't been a desk soldier all the time. The question only arises in a case like this."

  "This is an actual situation, sir? Something pending?"

  "It's for real, Nolan." Ruiz sounded tired. "One we've been butting our heads against for months. Your analysis, by the way, was excellent. The questions you raised are among the very ones that the Council of Regiments has been debating. We've had a team of observers there for quite some time, trying to get agreement to mediation and peacekeeping."

  ' 'We just wait for something they see or hear to tip the balance one way or the other?" Lon asked.

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  Ruiz made a gesture of helplessness with his hands, then shook his head. "Let's say that a decision would be a lot simpler if there were a lot of other contracts being offered."

  Lon had not been sworn to any special secrecy over the job Colonel Ruiz had asked him to do, nothing beyond the routine confidentiality he had been warned about his first day in Contracts. After work that Monday, Lon sought out Captain Orlis.

  "That information I didn't hear from you?" Lon said in a hushed voice. "I wouldn't bank on it—not soon, anyway. It all looks rather iffy."

  Matt Orlis nodded. "I know. But I suspect that the Council will eventually choose to put men to work."

  "But maybe it will take long enough for Sara and me to get married first," Lon suggested.

  "Patience. It's in the works. Just keep your pants on."

  "Well, Captain, I'm here and she's there, so I don't have much choice about
that."

  There was an interview with Lieutenant Colonel Black over the request for permission to many. Another interview with the Corps Personal Welfare office—that one included a questionnaire that was part psychological profile and part analysis of his ability and willingness to support a wife and family. "We need to know everything possible in order to help in the most efficient manner," Lon was told.

  Two weeks after Lon's return from Nassau Proving Range, there still was no word on his request, or on the possible contract on Aldrin. Lon's Monday duties were switched. He remained with his platoons, while Carl Hoper went off on some other variety of detached duties.

  Each evening during the week, and several times on Saturdays and Sundays, Lon spent time on the complink with Sara. After two weeks, both were showing impatience, especially when they talked. "Daddy says there's

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  no way to rush the Corps," she said several times. "That we just have to wait as best we can."

  "My captain tells me pretty much the same thing," Lon admitted. "I think he's tired of me nagging him about it."

  "Lon, I've been thinking. I could move to Dirigent City. I've got a bit of money saved up from my tips. Get a small apartment close to you. That would be better than going crazy waiting

  so far apart."

  Lon's heart started thumping harder. "I'd love that, Sara, but—really—I think you'd better stay with your folks until we can get married. I'd worry too much about you alone here. Let's do it right, the way we planned. Maybe it won't be so much longer after all."

  Three days later, word finally came.

  The contract, not the request for permission to marry. Twenty-four hours after that, Lon and his men were aboard the battalion transport Long Snake, heading out-system wim the rest of 7th Regiment, en route to Aldrin.

  "Two colonies have coexisted peacefully for centuries," Lon told his platoons during the first briefing aboard ship. "Aldrin East and Aldrin West are among the oldest settlements planted directly from Earth that are not in either the Confederation of Human Worlds or the Second Commonwealth. They have shared the only continent that has what they consider to be acceptable climate and conditions. Apart from their reluctance to deal with each other, they have been physically separated by a mountain chain that runs from northeast to southwest."

  Lon had charts of me world projected on a wall monitor so the men could see what he was talking about. "Both colonies have grown considerably and are feeling population pressures that have forced them to expand into areas they consider less than ideal. The area where the conflict between them came to a head is here, south of this peninsula." He pointed to an area that lay nearly on the planet's equator. "Another tropical paradise?" Phip Steesen asked.

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  "I don't know where we're going in," Lon said. "There has been, according to the last reports, some minor skirmishing there, but our client, Aldrin West, is far more concerned over what they see as an attempt to invade their core regions to the north, well into the temperate zone."

  He paused. "We've had people on Aldrin for nearly a year, trying to get the two sides to agree to employ the DMC for mediation and peacekeeping. As long as there was no fighting, the Council of Regiments declined to accept a contract to help impose the will of one colony on the other. It was only when Aldrin East sent settlers and troops across the continental divide into mis large tropical plain on what traditionally had been Aldrin West's side of the continent that we started to gear up for this contract. When word came that Aldrin East was also sending troops across the mountains here"—he pointed out the area on the map—"we got our orders. We know a lot about the top people in each colony, and have better man average data on the size of the armies each side can field. Not perfect, but better than we have most times.

  "Both colonies have long maintained standing armies. Both have increased the size of those armies over the past several years to meet the threat each saw from the other. Each has its own munitions industry and a well-developed economy. East can field credible opposition, and that includes a sizable air fleet, which is why we're taking a full fighter squadron to support our effort. We're talking about national armies here, but the level of professionalism appears to be high on both sides.

  ' 'The mission we have contracted for is to repulse the invasion of West's heartland, and to evict die soldiers East has sent into the area under dispute in the south. We will not attempt to force relocation of civilians there but will prevent any new Easterners from moving in. We are to do what we can to minimize antagonizing the civilian Easterners. The Council of Regiments still hopes to turn this contract into one of mediation and peacekeeping once we're on the ground."

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  "I know one way we could make peace between them," Platoon Sergeant Jorgen said when Lon asked for comments and questions. "But I sure hope that's not what the Council has in mind.'*

  "What's that?" Lon asked.

  "Make both sides so mad at us that they'll kiss and make up and all turn against us." That brought uneasy laughs from some of the men, openly worried looks from others.

  "They won't do that unless they get full payment for the contract in advance," Phip said, but his quip sounded nervous.

  "Nothing has been said about anything like that," Lon said. ' 'We go in and do our job. The contract team will continue to try to persuade both sides to agree to mediation, with 7th Regiment available to make certain there are no additional incidents. And 12th Regiment has been alerted to possibly reinforce us, in either role. If conditions deteriorate before we arrive, 12th might already be on the way when we land. The contract officers have authority to request that on their own."

  ' 'How long a contract is this?'' Tebba Girana asked.

  "The maximum duration under the initial contract is six months," Lon said. "If necessary, under conditions spelled out in detail in the contract. That means that if we get the war won faster, we get paid off and head for home sooner. If we do turn this into a peacekeeping effort, the time could be longer. But, as I understand the way the Corps works these things, we're not likely to stay longer than six months. If it goes beyond that, 7th would probably be rotated back to Diligent and another regiment brought in to replace us." / sure hope it doesn't run that long, he thought. This is one time I'd like to be in and out as fast as possible.

  I wouldn 't even complain if we got there and turned right around to go home without even landing.

  The voyage to Aldrin seemed interminable to Lon, as if there were weeks between Q-space transits instead of

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  three days. Lon studied the database on Aldrin until he had large sections of it virtually memorized. He scanned me maps, concentrating on the area where the invading army was supposed to be headed, and on the area in dispute to the south. He studied photographs and video, and read Aldrinian news accounts that the contract officers had relayed to Dirigent. He played the game of planning the campaign for himself, decided how he would use the regiment to fulfill the contract in the fastest, most economical manner. And, every day, he wrote long letters to Sara, knowing it might be weeks before he would get a chance to send any of them. When he could think of nothing else to write, he added long accounts of his memories of Earth—knowing they would interest Sara. He spent an hour or two working out in the gym every day, pushing himself, as always.

  Most nights he slept only with the aid of a sleep patch. He took that step on his own, knowing that Captain Orlis would order it if he saw any sign that Lon was not getting a decent amount of sleep. I've learned some of my lessons, Lon told himself one night just after he put the patch on his neck. No one has to tell me to keep myself in order now. I can do what I have to do. He was asleep almost before he finished the thought.

  "We won't be going in hot," Lieutenant Colonel Black told his officers. The staff meeting had been called six hours after the Dirigenter fleet came out of its final Q-s
pace transit in Aldrin's system. The ships were on course, two and a half days out. "That's the word as of this minute, subject, of course, to change, but the intelligence looks good. The invading army is still in the mountains, moving rather slowly on the ground. They've been forced to leave behind most of their ground transport and move on foot. Apparently Aldrin East didn't feel confident enough of air superiority to try to move its troops across the mountains by air, even though they have the shuttles to do it, and fighter aircraft to cover them." He shrugged. "We are not privy to the reasoning behind the

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  decision. Our representatives are no longer welcome in East, nor have they been able to continue talking with East's leaders even by complink." He coughed lightly, an affected

  gesture. "That might have something to do with the fact that we're on our way in. It seems that West broadcast the news, with a 'get out while you can' type of, ah, suggestion. There is no indication that news of our approach has scared East into abandoning their efforts." He paused. ' 'I guess it was worth a try, but it does mean that we have no element of surprise going for us, which makes it that much better that we're going into a safe zone, to be moved into position later, if our mere presence on the ground doesn't scare East into turning around." He smiled. "That does appear unlikely. It would be nice, though. Remember, until we're told different, we would prefer to avoid a major fight. We hope to make both sides see that it would be far better to find a peaceful solution to their differences." That was being emphasized, on every level, at every possibility. ' 'That means that, subject to the requirements of security, we treat the civilians of East with kid gloves and do not go, ah, overboard even against armed combatants. We protect ourselves. We do the job, but with such restraint as is militarily feasible."

  Several rows back, Lon frowned, his head bent forward. He had studied military history during his time at The Springs, the North American Military Academy on Earth. The idea of limiting efforts against an armed enemy brought images of disaster to mind.