by Rick Shelley
"He did indicate that he would tike to meet you, and said something about one of his distant ancestors who attended the North American Military Academy and later returned to serve a tour as its adjutant."
"Did you tell him anything about the, ah, circumstances under which I left the academy?'' Lon asked.
"Not in detail. But he has invited you along to lunch today. You and I both, actually. It's a step in the direction we want to take. You have no objections?''
"Of course not, sir." Lon hesitated, then added, "Even if for no other reason man to get a change of menu."
"We'll leave here at eleven hundred hours. Not to put pressure on you or anything, but this could be the opening we've been looking for, Nolan."
"Just because of chance?"
"A lot of military cusps come as a result of chance. Fortune. Apparently it's been quite a while since anyone immigrated to Aldrin directly from Earth. So we appeal to their curiosity.
At least, you appeal to their curiosity. Sorry to put you on the spot like this, but I've got to take whatever steps I can here."
"I understand that, Colonel. So I'll be charming and do what I can to satisfy Major Esterling's
curiosity."
"Someming like that," Black said through a grin. "But gently, Nolan, gently."
There were no dress uniforms available, but Lon spent the rest of the morning making his battledress as presentable as possible for the meeting. Colonel Black had indicated they would carry no weapons, not even sidearms. No pack harnesses. They would have their helmets, to keep in contact with the battalion, but once they reached Hope, they would take the helmets off and carry them.
"Now I'm a diplomat," Lon told Matt Orlis when he described the meeting with Colonel Black.
"Or a freak held up for public display." He shrugged. "That doesn't bother me, Captain. I'm used to being singled out because
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I'm from Earth, and anything that helps us here is okay by me."
"Just don't work too hard at it, Nolan," the captain had advised. "Let it happen naturally."
"Yes, sir. I've been telling myself the same thing." "If I wasn't confident that you'd do us proud, I
wouldn't have suggested using you."
Lon had time to sit in his tent and think before it was time to meet Black for the walk into Hope. No pressure, he told himself. Like hell. They're all hoping that the fact that I'm from Earth will provide some sort of miraculous change. Put the kid from Earth on display and hope he 'II charm the locals into thinking we 're all something special. Like I'm some superhero from a vid, ready to save the galaxy all by my lonesome.
His palms were sweating. There was a nervous knot in his stomach. He felt more aware of the heat than he had in days. The tent fabric did provide considerable thermal insulation, but it had never been enough for real comfort. / can't let myself get so knotted up that I can't eat, Lon thought. They might think I was too uppity to share their food. It would be worse if I ate and then barfed it back up. A real diplomatic incident.
He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. It had all sounded so simple when Colonel Black first told him. It was the waiting that gave doubts and worries a chance to intrude.
Better if they'd sprung this on me at the last minute, or just invited me along to lunch without telling me why.
Lon got up and paced, the three steps in each direction that the tent permitted. He would not go outside to do his pacing where his men would see, and wonder what had him so nervous. He had told his sergeants he would be going to Hope with the colonel, but he had not explained the mission further. vft was a relief when the time came to leave. At least 150
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the waiting would be over soon. Once we get there and get talking, it shouldn 't be so bad.
He knew that would almost certainly be the case, but it did not still the butterflies in his stomach.
Battalion Lead Sergeant Zal Osier accompanied Lon and Colonel Black. Osier was the only one who was armed, and he wore only his pistol. His function as escort would be easy to explain. "Maybe he'll even get invited to lunch with Major Esterling's noncoms," Colonel Black suggested, though he added that he was not counting on it. "I'm just taking every chance for a little more of a wedge."
"The more I think about this, Colonel," Lon said, "the more it feels as if we're grasping at some awfully thin straws."
"You're not far wrong," Black conceded. "But just now those are all we have within reach."
Major Esterling's second-in-command, Captain Oliver Howard, met them at the edge of town. There were introductions, and Howard's explanation that he was to escort them to the officers' mess. "Major Esterling is overseeing preparations personally. He wants to make
certain that everything is perfect."
/'// bet his mess sergeant appreciates that, Lon thought, taking care to hide the grin that wanted to come to his face. He looked around. There seemed to be more people about, out in the open, wearing their curiosity freely now. It's like they know that something's up, and not just that there's someone from Earth coming in. He kept coming bade to that, but the walk had given him a chance to dampen his nervousness. The people had been out before the Dirigenters arrived, so it could not be that they were
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coming out just because three men came into town alone, two of them unarmed.
The garrison's barracks were a separate compound within the town, apparently as old as any of the civilian structures. The fence around the compound had been removed the day of the surrender—unilaterally, by the garrison. It had not been mentioned in the discussions.
The mess hall, with separate facilities for officers and enlisted men, was at the southeastern corner of the compound. Stairs and a lift tube went from a separate entrance to the officers'
mess on the second floor.
This was definitely not put up as a temporary structure, Lon observed as they climbed the stairs. It was too well built, too solid, and some care had been taken in the furnishing and decoration. An efficient air-conditioning system made the officers' dining room almost chilly.
Lead Sergeant Osier was still with them. Captain Howard had suggested that the major would want to meet him, and that he was certain they would be able to make arrangements to keep the sergeant entertained and fed after that.
"I'm easy to please," Osier had said, a bit gruffly in Lon's opinion. "I've been a soldier for a lot of years."
It was clear that someone had been detailed to watch for their arrival. The four men had not been in the dining room fifteen seconds before Major Esterling came hurrying in from the other side, apparently from the kitchen or a service area.
"It was good of you to come, Colonel Black," Ester-ling said before he had quite reached the group. Black nodded. The East major came to a stop and glanced at Lon. "This would be your lieutenant from Earth?" he asked.
Cotonel Black introduced Lon and Osier. "I know the sergeant wasn't included in your invitation," Black said, ' 'but I find it difficult to function without my lead sergeant close."
"Of course. There are times when I think that most armies would never miss the loss of their officers as long as they had good noncoms to keep things going." He gave CAPTAIN
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Osier a salesman's smile. "Perhaps you would care to sample the fare in our sergeants'
mess, Lead Sergeant," he suggested. ' 'It will provide a change from field rations. That is,"
Esterling added, glancing at Black, "if your colonel can bear to have you a few yards farther away from him."
"Thank you," Black said. "Zal, you bring your appetite along?"
"Yes, sir," Osier said, looking at the colonel, then at the major. "Thank you for your invitation, sir. I appreciate it."
"Fine, fine. I'll have my command lead sergeant escort you." The man coutd not have been far away. He arrived within thirty seconds after Esterling summoned him. The Eastman
major introduced the sergeants, then sent them off to eat.
"Now, Colonel, Lieutenant," Esterling said after the enlisted men had left, "I hope you'll enjoy the little repast our chief cook has prepared."
The colonel's table was in a nook along one side of the room. The round table was large enough to seat six, but only four places were set, spaced equally around the perimeter. Lon guessed, correctly, that Major Esterling would sit at the rear of the nook, with his back and sides to walls, facing the portion of the room he could see. There was a white tablecloth. The
centerpiece was a brass candelabrum with five electric candles. The china and silverware were plain but looked as if they were of premium quality. The napkins were linen, or a substitute indistinguishable from the real thing.
Esterling placed Colonel Black across from him. Lon was at the major's right, and Captain Howard sat in the final chair.
"We're usually not so formal except for dinner on Sundays and holidays," Major Esterling explained. "But I thought we should put on our 'company faces' for this occasion."
/'// bet, Lon thought, but he worked hard to keep a Straight face. Don't spook the deal, kid, he warned him-154
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self. He felt relieved that Major Esterling had not started to ply him immediately with questions about Earth. The only reference to the planet had been the introductory question.
A mess steward arrived. "A little wine, gentlemen?" Esterling asked his guests, focusing on Colonel Black. "We have a fairly decent wine cellar, even if it's on the second floor."
"Thank you," Black said, nodding and smiling. "That would be a distinct pleasure."
Esterling gestured, and the steward hurried off to fetch the wine. "The one I have in mind is my personal favorite. The grapes are a hybrid developed on Aldrin from two terran varieties, Riesling and Gewiirztraminer." He turned toward Lon. "I believe that both of the original varieties were European."
"The Riesling at least, Major," Lon said. "I'm not familiar with the second. I'm not even certain I could pronounce it."
Esterling laughed politely and repeated the pronunciation. ' 'We also grow both ancestral varieties near the East Coast," he explained. "The Gewiirztraminer produces a slightly spicy wine alone. And the Riesling makes a moderately sweet white wine."
The wine arrived. Major Esterling tasted and nodded his approval before the steward poured for all of them, leaving the open bottle behind.
"To peace," Major Esterling said, raising his glass in a toast. The others echoed the sentiment.
Lon was cautious with his first sip. Wine had never been his beverage of choice, but something to be drunk only when the occasion required it. He was pleasantly surprised by the taste, and allowed himself a second, more generous, sip before setting the glass back on the table.
"Very nice," Colonel Black said. "It teases the tongue."
Lon nodded. "Yes, nice indeed," he allowed.
Major Esterling beamed as if he had stomped the grapes and made the wine personally. He had no time to do more
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before a pair of stewards arrived bearing the first course of the meal.
Lon waited for the questions about Earth to begin, but Major Esterling talked about the food, wine, and the tribulations of service in a tropical climate. He did not refer to Earth, or to the current impasse between the two colonies on Aldrin.
He's trying to be the perfect host, as if this were some formal affair at his home base, Lon decided. He wants to impress us with his etiquette and with the cuisine. Virtually everything had been grown or raised domestically, most of it in or around Hope. Lon tried to keep track of the items the major talked about. After the dessert arrived and had been described, Lon thought, He never mentioned the butter. Maybe that came from a replicator. He viewed that deduction as a minor triumph.
There was another bottle of wine after dessert, a different variety, and cigars. Lon accepted the wine gratefully, the cigar with reluctance. He did not care for smoking, but did it when it was socially required. He lit his cigar, then brought it near his mouth just often enough to keep it from going out.
"Now, this wine is a straight Gewiirztraminer," Ester-ling said after he had tasted and approved it. "From a special picking, berry by berry, to get only the finest fruit." He waited for his guests to sample the wine and voice their approval, then leaned back and turned his attention to Lon.
"Now, Lieutenant," he started, "I must confess I was extremely intrigued when your colonel mentioned that one of his officers had been born and raised on Earth, and attended North American Military Academy. One of my ancestors won his commission at The Springs, and later retarded to serve as its adjutant for several years."
Lon nodded. "Colonel Black mentioned that, but I confess that I don't recall any Esterlings among the academy officials we were forced to memorize as 156
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"Not an Esterling. My ancestor was Colonel Emil Marghazi."
"There's a Marghazi Hall at the academy," Lon said.
"Yes, yes," Esterling said, grinning and nodding happily. "Dedicated some years after my ancestor's death, just before several of his descendants emigrated, coming to Aldrin."
"Marghazi Hall. Part of the engineering department," Lon said, thinking back. "I had several classes in that building."
The connection firmly established, Esterling went on to question Lon about Earth for an hour, through two bottles of wine and a second round of cigars. The rest of his officers came to eat their lunches and left. The mess hall workers moved about as unobtrusively as possible, cleaning everything but the nook. The major asked about the academy and Lon's experiences there, and he asked about places on Earth that figured in his family's past. The Marghazis had lived near Niagara Falls, no more than a mile from the west bank of the Niagara River. Esterling did not probe into the circumstances of Lon's departure from the academy. He asked few personal questions. His interest was in Earth, not in the life of one man who had come from there.
Eventually it was Colonel Black who brought the conversation about Earth to an end, with apologies. "I would like to offer to return your hospitality, Major," Black said. "But you would find it far less elegant. We have only replicated field rations, and no wine. If it becomes possible, when circumstances are ... less troubled than they are currently, I will be more than happy to entertain you in the officers' mess aboard our transport. The cuisine still will not match this, but I would be happy to share it with you."
"I hope the day comes soon when I will be able to accept your invitation, Colonel," Esterling said. "The current contretemps is most distressing. We had such high hopes when your government offered to mediate the dispute between us and Aldrin West. We were devastated by
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their refusal to entertain discussions that could have averted the conflict."
Colonel Black nodded solemnly. "It was not merely a soldier's normal distaste for war that made us work toward peaceful mediation, Major. Any world that is divided against itself is at a tremendous disadvantage in dealings with other worlds. It can be easy pickings for any united world or alliance that seeks to exploit their resources or populace."
"Unfortunately, Colonel, I am not the one you need to convince of that. Nor is my government.
We were all in favor of Dirigentan mediation. It was West that blocked that, as you must know. But, even there, it is only the government that needs convincing. If their people were allowed the free expression of their will, I am certain that they, too, would have voted for peaceful resolution."
Lon was glad he was no longer the focus of attention. He was certain his face would have shown a startled look at what the major had said about the people of Aldrin West not being given any choice in what their government did. Colonel Black and Major Esterling had both leaned forward, their eyes in constant contact. Even Captain Howard was following the
conversation between them, watching their faces. Lon mig
ht as easily have been invisible.
Is what he said just propaganda, or is it the truth? Lon wondered. Everything I saw about Aldrin said that both governments were popularly elected democracies. He tried to think back through the megabytes of information he had read about the world. What was the source of the reports? How much of it was directly seen by our people? How much did we take on the word of West's government? Colonel Black's face gave nothing away, but Lon could not conceive of the colonel missing the hints in what Esterling had said.
"Whatever the circumstances, eventually both governments will have to put aside old conflicts and unite if this world is to maintain its liberty," Black said. "You share the same world and the same heritage. Being at logger-158
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heads over a small section of real estate is not practical."
Lon found nothing else startling in the few minutes of conversation that remained before they left the officers' dining hall and went downstairs to where Zal Osier was waiting. Thanks were repeated, and farewells; then the mercenaries started the walk back toward battalion headquarters.
"How much faith can we place in what he said, sir?" Lon asked once the three of them were well outside Hope. "That about the people of West having no say in what their government does? That isn't what the contract file said."
"I'm not sure, Nolan," Black said, his voice showing he was not paying full attention. He was thinking hard about what Esterling had said, and trying to remember the same details from the file on Aldrin. "We'll have to go over those files again, and check with Colonel Flowers and the men we've had on this world for so long." He stopped walking and looked at Lon.
"You were working in the contracts office for a while, weren't you?"
"Yes, sir. Mondays over a couple of months. They gave me the Aldrin file to study and make recommendations on before the contract was accepted, before we heard that East had mounted an invasion. I studied that file very closely. I don't recall anything that suggested that West was not fully democratic."
Black grunted as he started walking again. "Very few worlds are, as you put it, 'fully democratic.' Diligent certainly isn't. There are always limits, once the population gets too large for everyone to take an intelligent, personal interest in all the affairs of the world. We don't require a government to be democratic before we accept a contract, and we generally do not attempt to dictate local politics to our clients. That would be impractical. But we do have certain values."