“It could be big, Arch. It could also be a stepping-stone to the FTL or TPCs. And that’s real money. If we succeed, we might even have enough for that experiment that you keep pressing me about.” And that would get him on her side like nothing else could. He would stop asking questions.
“Really?”
“Really.” She hated lying to him. If this worked, he’d be safe at home and she’d be hiding out somewhere among the stars. She had no misconceptions about the danger she faced. But to stop Westorn from gaining his objective, she would do this. She had enabled him; she had to stop him. She reassessed. No, she couldn’t stop him. She had enabled him to loose the genie; she couldn’t stuff it back in the bottle. But she might possibly stop what he intended to do with Jensen and the others – and possibly stop him altogether if Jensen were correct and he couldn’t afford any more like the sergeant.
From what Jensen had told her, only about twenty percent of Westorn’s participants “graduated”, about ten percent turned out like the sergeant, and the remaining seventy percent merely slept through the whole process, unaffected.
Christy looked out the lab window towards Base Headquarters. Did Westorn sit there, even now, listening to her conversation? And if he did, would he believe her? And if he didn’t, what would he do? She figured she’d know soon enough if she failed in her quest. She had much work ahead of her.
NINE
AZORES
Saturday, June 20th
Karl Müller rode the transport into town in the early morning to enjoy a day without work. About half of his flight, several ground crew, and a few other base personnel accompanied him. He looked around to see thirty-five happy faces. Faces that need not worry about drills, attacks, or discipline for twenty-four hours. Some of them would even spend the night in town.
He glanced across the aisle to Leutnant Wentner of Anton Flight, Shuttle Four, one known to brag about his exploits in a certain hotel that catered to the men and women of the base. No, he would not partake of that, had never done so.
The transport came to a halt, and the soldiers disembarked amid laughter and ribald suggestions. He smiled, but walked away from the others. He preferred to spend his time alone.
While walking about the old town, he saw a young woman across the street, and she reminded him of the granddaughter of the old man. He crossed over. The woman gave him a wary look.
“Excuse me, Lady,” he said. Her face showed the expectation of a crude – or not-so-crude – and unwanted solicitation. Steeling himself for a rebuff, he continued. “Could you direct me to the abode of Old Paulo? He told me that almost anyone could direct me. I fear he did not give me his last name.”
The tension on her face evaporated, and she smiled. “Old Paulo? Yes, everyone knows him and where he lives. He invited you?”
“He told me to come to his place the next time I had leave.” He shrugged. “That’s today. But perhaps it is yet too early?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. He rises with the sun, does Old Paulo. And he very much enjoys visitors.” She took his arm, and turned him about. “You must walk up the hill, sir.”
“Karl,” he said.
“Yes, Karl,” she replied, though refraining from giving her own name in return. “It is quite a climb for the old, and thus Old Paulo makes it only occasionally these years.” She continued to give directions until he felt he could find the house with no problem at all.
“I should take something. Perhaps a bottle of wine?”
She agreed wholeheartedly. “He would find that very welcome,” she said, naming the old man’s favourite type and vintage.
“Has he celebrated his birthday yet?” And the woman lit up at that, making him glad he’d mentioned. It further distanced him from the base, and brought him closer to the townspeople.
“This very night,” she said. “Half the town will attend, I think.”
“At his house?” Karl asked, eyebrows up.
She laughed. “No, his party will take place this afternoon. Then, tonight, we will fete him in the town square. Will you be there for that?”
He shrugged. “It depends on Old Paulo and his family. I would not like to intrude if not wanted.”
And she found that, it seemed, the correct answer, for she pointed across the street. “You can find the wine in that shop.”
Karl bowed to her. “I thank you.”
The climb up to Old Paulo’s house left him a little short of breath. How the old man managed it, he didn’t know.
He reached the gate, and saw the granddaughter walking around the corner of the house into the front yard. Upon seeing him, she nodded gravely.
“Come around back. Grandfather is expecting you.”
He chuckled. “How might that be? I only just this morning decided to visit.”
She smiled at him, and he wished that such a smile awaited him every day. But it didn’t, and likely never would, so he put his wishes away.
“Grandfather has spies everywhere.”
Ah, the young woman who had given him directions had also phoned to give the old man warning. Interesting. He opened the gate, and entered.
“A soldier always operates best with accurate information,” Karl said, causing the woman’s expression to blank.
“He told me that he once wore the uniform of a sergeant,” Karl explained. He remembered her name, Paula – born on the same day as her grandfather. He bowed formally. “Happy Birthday, Paula.”
“Thank you, Karl.” So, she had remembered his name as well. “But when did Grandfather tell you this?”
“When we met at the confectionery – the day you and I met.”
“Strange,” she said, making no move to lead him around the house to the back where the old man supposedly awaited him.
“Why strange?”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it. He has never mentioned it.” She nodded to herself. “But this explains much.”
Just what it explained, she didn’t say, but she now led him around the house to the back, where Old Paulo indeed waited, sitting in a fine chair. His eyes went to Karl, then dropped to the bottle of wine.
“My friend, you have come,” he said, smiling.
Karl wondered whether the smile was for him or for the bottle.
“Paula, please, bring us glasses … and one for yourself.”
Karl handed Paulo the bottle. Paula arrived with three glasses and a corkscrew. She deftly removed the cork and poured. Karl took his glass and, as guest, proposed the toast. He lifted his glass.
“Absent friends.”
The old man’s eyes snapped to his. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He raised his glass and repeated it. “Absent friends.”
Puzzled, Paula said the same.
And then an older lady approached.
“Karl, I would like you to meet my wife, Gabriella,” Paulo said.
“A pleasure, Gabriella.” He gave her a short, German bow.
She smiled at him. “As you are here early, you must help us set up for the party.”
“He is a guest,” Paulo protested.
But Karl waved that off. “I’d be happy to aid you. Just point me in the right direction.”
And that got him a genuine smile from Paula, which made the effort worthwhile. He took off his uniform jacket, and began setting up folding chairs in the yard under the young woman’s direction. Not long after that, others started arriving, bringing food, wine, and themselves. Soon, the atmosphere turned truly festive, and Karl began to enjoy himself. He even danced with Paula and a couple of other women, whose names he later wouldn’t remember. Too many new names in too short a time.
A few hours later, Paula found him sitting on a chair on the north side of the house, in the shade, away from the crowd.
“Too much?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “Quite the event. I just need a little break from all the people.”
And then he regretted saying that, for she turned and walked away, leaving him
alone. He kicked himself mentally for driving her away, but then relented as he saw her return with another chair.
“I could use a bit of a break, too. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” He leaned back in the chair, enjoying the small breeze that blew the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers to them. His hands rubbed the smooth wood of the chair arms. “Your grandfather certainly knows how to put on a party,” he said, merely to start a conversation.
But she had her own goal.
“Yes, he does. Everyone loves Grandfather. I just hope he doesn’t overdo it.” Then she looked him right in the eyes, which did something funny to his stomach. “You said Grandfather told you he had been a soldier.”
And the funny feeling disappeared. She had come to him for information, no more. “Yes, he told me that.”
“And did he tell you anything about his service?”
“Some.” He didn’t want to get into it for a variety of reasons. A breeze blew a wisp of hair across her face, and her fingers combed it back into position, giving him a good look at her profile. Beautiful.
“Can you tell me?”
“No.”
He could see the disappointment come to her face, the sadness, and he wanted to relate what the old man had said, but Old Paulo had said it one soldier to another, to one who would understand. Her eyes held his for a long time. Did she hope that he might reconsider?
“I respect that. Can you tell me anything?”
He pursed his lips. “He didn’t enjoy his service. Perhaps that is why he hasn’t talked to you about it.”
“But he talked to you.”
“I would understand.”
Which got her back up. “And I wouldn’t?”
“No. Not unless you’ve been there – and you haven’t.”
She nodded, looked away, and then looked back. “But you have?”
He gave her a sad smile. “No, but close enough that I might understand.” Then he chuckled. “I think he had an ulterior motive, too.”
She finally smiled. “That sounds like Grandfather. Let me guess: he’s trying to get you to see the error of your ways.”
Karl laughed. “That about sums it up.”
The noise from the party suddenly began to diminish. Paula reached over, took his hand, and pulled him to his feet.
“Come. The procession begins.”
“Procession?”
“We’re going down to the town square.”
Karl remembered the woman in town saying something about that. He let Paula lead him around the house and out the gate, relishing the warmth of her hand in his. They began the long walk down the hill, slow, at the pace of the eight men who carried Old Paulo, sitting in a chair like a potentate of ancient times.
Other townspeople came out to watch and wave. Old Paulo waved back at them as he passed. It seemed everyone wanted the honour of carrying the old man, for the bearers switched more often than tiredness might suggest.
As the procession went by them, the others joined it, and Karl found himself in the middle of an ebullient crowd, laughing and joking among themselves, many passing bottles of wine back and forth. An older – but not near so old as Paulo – man passed him a bottle, and he tilted it back, taking a swallow. He passed it to Paula, who did likewise before passing it to another.
She laughed. “We might become quite tipsy before we even get down to the square.” She squeezed his hand again.
By the time they reached the square, Karl indeed felt lightheaded … but it wasn’t from the wine. He looked around at the crowd, and thought that most of the town had gathered for the celebration. A small band started playing on a newly erected stage, and dancing began. He felt giddy as Paula came into his arms, and they joined the dance. He barely even noticed some of the less-than-appreciative looks which they received.
A loud clatter caught his attention, and he focused outside the little bubble that he had created. The sound of angry voices had him stop and release the woman in his arms.
“I’d better check this out,” he told her, upon hearing German.
With Paula following, he strode through the crowd, to come upon an altercation – now only words – which would very shortly become physical, judging by experience.
Karl pushed through the last remaining townspeople and saw some of the soldiers from the base. A feldwebel caught sight of him, and his eyes widened.
“Achtung! Offizier!”
The feldwebel and the other soldiers rocketed to attention, some swaying slightly. The noise abated as townspeople and soldiers alike saw his anger.
“Feldwebel Schuster, what is the problem here?” he asked the unfortunate man, whose name he now recalled.
“Herr Major, we merely wished to join the party, and these,” he paused for a moment, decided that he’d better remain polite, “these people took offence. And, sir, that old man became very rude. The others with him wished to start a fight. We weren’t going to back down in front of rabble.” Karl could smell the beer on him. The others likewise appeared the worse for drink.
Karl followed the man’s gaze and caught sight of Paulo, also looking angry. He turned back to the Germans.
“That old man is the reason for this celebration. It is his party, and he has the right to deny entrance to any.” He glared at the line of soldiers. “And, Gentlemen, that old man held the rank of sergeant, and was on active duty in a war zone long before any of you were born.” He looked from man to man. “Have any of you faced insurgents bent on killing you? Have any of you fired a shot in anger? This man has … and he survived. Not all of those who faced him can tell the same story.”
The soldiers took a second look at Old Paulo, saw the pride and bearing of the man.
Feldwebel Schuster, suddenly semi-sober, swallowed. “Sir, please relay our apologies. Squad! Salute.”
The row of men snapped a creditable salute to Old Paulo. Karl nodded his appreciation of their deed, but knew that he couldn’t just let it go. He pointed to one edge of the square. “Wait for me there.”
The inebriated men made the smartest right-turn that they could manage, and marched off somewhat unsteadily. Karl turned and walked over to Paulo.
“The men apologize for their antics, and wish to make known their regards,” he said formally. Then he sighed as Paula joined her grandfather. “I fear that I will have to look after this. Thank you, Paulo, for the invitation. I enjoyed your party. I regret this incident.”
Old Paulo waved it off. “Come again next time you have leave. As for them: no harm done. I would prefer no punishment.” He suddenly grinned. “I have stood in their place more than once.”
At the urging of other townspeople, Old Paulo returned to the celebration in his honour, leaving Paula looking a little sad.
“You are going to leave,” she stated.
“I fear that I must. We do not need another incident here, and someone must take charge. Thank you for the dance – and everything else. You made the night memorable.” He bowed.
She smiled at him. “What did you tell those men, that caused them to salute?”
“Merely the truth: that your grandfather once outranked the lot of them.” He did not bother to mention the other details. If Paulo had not mentioned his service, then he, Karl, would not be the one who let it slip. He smiled at her again. “Enjoy the rest of the night, Paula.”
She laughed lowly. “And you, Karl, enjoy the memory.”
“I shall.”
He turned, and went to ensure that no other men from the base tried to interrupt the celebration. When he reached the soldiers, he shook his head sadly.
“The sergeant says that he has often stood where you stand. He wishes the incident forgotten by all – including me. Do not return to the square. Dismiss.”
What a miserable end to a good day. But Paulo had invited him to return, and perhaps when he did, he might meet Paula again. He could hope.
TEN
DENVER
Tuesday, June 22nd
“Ah, Colonel. I was about to ask your aide if you might have time to see me.”
He gave her what he probably considered a friendly grin, but one she saw as something predatory.
“Then this is a lucky coincidence.”
Coincidence. Right. She doubted she would ever believe in the concept again. But she forced her lips to curve up even while her eyebrows rose a fraction in an unspoken question.
“Is it? Did you have something for me?”
“I did and I do.” He waited for her reaction.
She sighed inwardly, but put on her ‘interested’ expression. “Well, don’t keep it a secret,” she said, acting like the curious, optimistic teenager she never had been. “Tell me.”
His grin widened. “I have twelve subjects for you – men who didn’t do so well in the previous experiment, and a couple of new ones that you’ve never met.”
She widened her eyes, and let her mouth open. “You do? You do! Wonderful. When can I start?”
Christy hated herself for playing the so-easily impressed ingénue. But she had seen some scientists who simply couldn’t contain their child-like nature for things pertaining to their specialties. She patterned herself on one of those – and, hopefully, old Dr Simpkins would never know the model he had provided.
Westorn’s grin now progressed into full-on smile. “This very night, if you wish.”
She widened her eyes. “I wish!”
* * *
AZORES
Müller entered Oberst Dreschler’s office at his command. He stood at attention while the oberst gazed at the screen in front of him.
Not With A Whimper: Destroyers Page 6