Captain

by Rick Shelley

  step be taken only in the most extraordinary conditions, and with the fullest contractual delicacy. It was something that other potential clients would remark on for decades, a question mark standing against offering a contract.

  There was a formal banquet held in honor of the Di-rigenters. The affair was small, a measure dictated by the continuing desire for secrecy. The mercenaries were sup-191

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  posedly not in East, they were still—as far as West was to know—where they had been.

  Eight members of McGrath's cabinet attended, along with Major Esterling. Security officers were posted around the banquet room and in the kitchen. Every care was taken.

  At the spaceport, everyone boarded the shuttle inside the hangar. The limousines left. The hangar doors were opened and the shuttle towed out to the main runway— after runway lights had been extinguished.

  "It appears that my government takes seriously the possibility that West may have planted agents among us," Major Esterling said. He appeared disheartened by that realization. "It seems impossible, just from a practical standpoint. We have had so little to do with each other. But, still, all of this ..." He could do no more than shake his head.

  "That very feeling that it would be impossible is the biggest advantage an agent would have," Colonel Rowers said. "But you can take some comfort. It is almost equally likely that your government has agents in West."

  ' 'Almost?'' Esterling asked.

  "An open society is always more vulnerable than a closed or tightly regulated one," Flowers said.

  "One of the prices a people must pay for individual freedom," Colonel Black added.

  They 're taking a lot for granted, aren 't they ? Lon asked himself. It seems they 're accepting that East is open and that West isn't, and we have only their word for that... or do we? Lon recalled that the colonel had been going to investigate, as best he could. Had he learned something to confirm the claims that Esterling had made in Hope? West had not given them much opportunity to see living conditions among their citizenry, and contacts with West's military units had been minimal, mostly conducted by radio, at a distance.

  Lon worried at that until he fell asleep. It was not a comfortable slumber, but it was, as he told himself later, better than sleeping in a wet foxhole.

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  "Stick around a bit longer, Nolan," Colonel Black told him after they reached the 2nd Battalion CP. Major Esterling and his driver had started back to Hope. Colonel Rowers had remained aboard the shuttle. It would be heading back to the rest of the regiment within minutes. "I'm going to set up an officers' call as quickly as everyone can make the trek, so there's no point in you and Captain Orlis going back to Alpha first."

  "Yes, sir," Lon said. Orlis was already back in his battle helmet, using the radio to call all the battalion's officers to headquarters. With the companies spread out around Hope, it would take an hour for them all to arrive.

  "We've only finished the easy part of our job," Black said then. "East always looked to be the easy part. Now Colonel Rowers has to tackle West, and that's going to be a lot touchier. I don't expect them to agree quickly or easily, and there's a chance that they will react violently when Colonel Rowers has to give them the final ultimatum."

  "You're that sure it will go that far, sir?" Lon asked. "That they won't agree short of us threatening to change sides?"

  "Let's say that I'm not optimistic. As of today, we go on full alert status, and I want effort put into preparing the strongest possible defenses. Major Esterling is going to put his people on similar alert."

  "Without weapons?"

  There was no humor in Black's smile. "They were brought back down while we were gone.

  Before today is out, Major Esterling's men will have their weapons and ammunition."

  "I assume that plans have been laid so that West's representatives here won't know about that?"

  "We'll do our best."

  "They'll see that we're beefing up our defenses though, won't they, sir?" Lon asked.

  Black shrugged. "That can't be avoided."

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  The meeting of the battalion's officers allowed Black to flesh out the synopsis he had given Lon. He detailed the preparations he wanted, and offered a full slate of contingency proposals. "The ultimate risk," Black said, "is that West will attempt a preemptive strike against the regiment when Colonel Flowers tells them to accept the proposals or we switch sides. That is what we have to guard against."

  "They can't really manage a sneak attack against us here," Captain Orlis told his lieutenants and Cadet O'Fallon as they walked back to Alpha's camp. "That's the biggest advantage 2nd Battalion has. West doesn't have forces close enough. They would have to move them in by shuttle, and the fleet would spot that sort of movement as quickly as they got off the ground. That would give us at least forty-five minutes' warning."

  "Long enough to worry but not long enough to do anything useful," Carl Hoper suggested.

  "They won't catch us with our pants down," Orlis said. "And it gives CIC time to launch Shrikes to hit the shuttles coming in. That makes it enough time to be useful."

  "I meant on the ground," Hoper said. "We'll know they're coming but won't be able to do more than wait and worry."

  Orlis shrugged. "It's more likely that any strike—if there is one—will be directed at the other battalions. West has troops close enough to them that they might try to move in undetected.

  If they're smart about it, and lucky, they could get close enough to do damage. Remember, we're talking about highly trained soldiers here, not a ragtag militia. We've seen how good they are. That's one of the reasons I want us to be at maximum readiness even though I don't expect a strike here. If I'm wrong about where they hit, I want every other advantage going for us."

  Captain Orlis and his lieutenants made the rounds of the company perimeter, with Esau O'Fallon tagging along,

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  listening, not offering opinions. The officers discussed what preparations to make, and where. "It's not just the perimeter," Orlis said after they had negotiated half of it. "I want dirt buttresses around the tents, at least three feet high. There are bags to fill in one of the shuttles. It's a lot of extra work, but it's either that or take the tents down and go primitive, and I don't want to do that, at least not now. In this heat, the cover of tents is important. I don't want any more trouble from dehydration than we already have."

  "Stockpile water in case the lines coming out from Hope are hit?'' Hoper suggested.

  "Good idea. Round up whatever tanks we can, and tell your men to keep their canteens as near full as possible."

  "What about switching schedules around and doing most of the work at night, Captain?" Lon asked. "That would be easier on the men. They can get more done when it's cooler. And it would make it harder for the team from West to see what we're doing."

  Orlis hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't want to waste the eight hours of daylight we've got left today. We need to get started. But don't push the men hard right off the bat. Keep the work periods short and rotate jobs. Maybe a third of the men working, a third on watch, and the other third resting. We'll keep going after sunset, pick up the pace, get switched around gradually. There's no way of telling how much time we have, how long the talks will remain diplomatic."

  "As least we've got good fire zones," Hoper said. "If the people of Hope get their harvest in before anything happens, it'll be better. Any force coming in will have a lot of open ground to cover, and only a little dry grass to hide in."

  "Which reminds me," Orlis said, not quite interrupting. ' 'I want more snoops planted, out as far as a thousand yards. We don't need dense coverage, but more than we've got." He lowered his voice then. "This next bit is, uh, unofficial, but I want particular attention paid to laying

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  snoops between us a
nd the Westers. If they come nosing about, I want to know early."

  "I guess it's too much to hope that they might head back to Syracuse in a snit," Hoper said.

  "I wouldn't hold my breath," Orlis said.

  Lon gave his platoon sergeants directions for the work parties. He talked to the men of each platoon separately, telling them as much as he could about the situation. And the potential danger. "With a lot of luck, maybe none of this will be needed," he said, "but if we do need it, I want to have it all done. We don't want our butts hanging out later."

  There was some grumbling—there was always grumbling over fatigue duty—but it was low-keyed, natural grousing about the work and the heat. And there were bright spots.

  "We get dirt piled up around the tents, and maybe scoop out a foot or so from the ground inside," Phip Steesen suggested, "it'll be that little bit cooler inside."

  Squad leaders and their assistants bossed the work— while doing their own share. Lon and the platoon sergeants circulated. Lon and Carl met to pitch in with the work on their tent, scooping out dirt from under the floor and helping fill the sandbags that were piled up around the outer walls. Esau O'Fallon was with the squad from first platoon that he was assigned to, working along with the others in the squad.

  "It's good for morale," Hoper told Lon. "The men won't grouse as much if they see us sweating right along with them."

  I know, I know, Lon thought, saving his energy for work.

  The two officers did not attempt to do all the work around their tent, but they made a good start, and men from all of their platoons chipped in to finish the job.

  Breaks were frequent, along with reminders to drink plenty of water. The mess tent provided chilled fruit drinks. There was a cold lunch, which was all the men CAPTAIN

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  wanted while they were out in the heat, with the promise of a hot supper after dark, when the temperature started to drop. Lon gave his men an hour off, starting just before sunset, to rest, get cleaned up, and eat. Cold showers were popular. Squad leaders had to remind their men to get in and out and let others have a turn.

  "How long do you think we'll have before things turn ugly, if they do?" Lon asked Carl Hoper when they met for supper.

  Carl shrugged. "No damn way to know. That's the sad truth. Colonel Flowers can be awfully persuasive when he wants to. I've seen him sweet-talking people. If it wasn't for the language barrier, he could talk a bluecat into becoming a vegetarian." The bluecat was one of Dirigent's major predators. Similar to large terran felines, but not exactly, bluecats had been a menace in the early years of the colony. "But I don't think he'll be able to talk West around without leaving a lot of hard feelings that could complicate the later talks between East and West."

  "You think we're going to end up fighting West." Lon did not attempt to make it a question.

  "Maybe I'm a pessimist by nature," Cart said, "but, yes, I think we're going to have to fight them. They might not pull a sneak attack, but there's no guarantee. Right now my best hope is that the Council of Regiments already has reinforcements on the way. Another regiment shows up, maybe with another fighter carrier or a brigade of armor, that might sway West."

  "That would be nice," Lon said.

  "We've been here long enough that reinforcements could be on the way if the Council acted quickly," Carl said.

  "Sounds as if you're trying to convince yourself."

  Hoper shrugged. "I think I'll see if they've got any more of that fruit juice."

  Just before dawn, as Lon was telling his men to knock off and get breakfast, the shuttle of the Aldrin West contingent took off and headed north. The craft made no at-198

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  tempt at stealth. It went supersonic low, sending a shock wave along the ground.

  "I think maybe they're pissed, Lieutenant," Sergeant Girana commented.

  Lon shrugged. "I guess there was no way we could hide what we were doing, and maybe they put two and two together. Or maybe they've had information from other sources."

  "If they were smart, they'd have left their people here to watch what we're doing," Girana said.

  "Half and half watches, Tebba, three-hour shifts," Lon said. "Unless I get different orders, we won't get back to our construction work until sundown tonight." That had been the last word from battalion headquarters. "Tell the men to get as much rest as they can. We've still got a lot to do."

  "Yes, sir. But we've made a good start."

  "Very good, Tebba. I hope it isn't necessary, but I think we'll be ready if West decides to play it hard. But the watches stay. Even for breakfast. Two shifts."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Lieutenant Hoper and I will be taking turns as well. One or the other of us will always be up and available. I don't know what the captain's schedule is going to be."

  Tebba saluted and went off to see to his platoon. Weil Jorgen had already checked in by radio and received his orders. Lon took another tour of his platoons' area, looking at the work that had been accomplished. The tents were already bunkered, and a good start had been made on the interconnected trenches that would give the company camp a solid outer perimeter and avenues across it.

  Lon stifled a yawn. He had three hours until he could lie down and get some sleep. Carl Hoper had the first sleep shift of the day, while it was relatively cool. Hoper was eating breakfast now. When he finished, he would hold the duty for the fifteen or twenty minutes that Lon would need to eat. That's the way it goes, Lon told him-CAPTAIN

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  self. Carl's senior lieutenant in the company. My day will come when he replaces Orlis and O

  'Fallen gets his commission. Soon, whenever they got back to Diligent from this contract.

  After a week of work, Captain Orlis decided that there was nothing left to be done to improve the defenses of Alpha's camp. The first forty-eight hours had been almost frantic, getting everything to an acceptable minimum. Beyond that, the work had been slower, tweaking everything. To a cursory examination from a distance, it looked almost as if the camp had disappeared. Tents had been recessed into the ground, dirt buttresses extending to the peaks. They worked hard to camouflage the site. The perimeter trenches were linked to secondary defensive positions within. It was possible to get anywhere within the camp without going aboveground. The linked trenches were six feet deep, with platforms along the side at every firing position.

  "Like the First World War back on Earth," Lon commented during a meal break after the work was finished. "They had vast systems of trenches between the two sides. The trench lines went for hundreds of miles, I think. Millions of men faced each other across narrow no-man's-lands for nearly four years."

  "As long as they don't ask us to dig trenches to connect with the other companies and Hope," Carl Hoper said. "Even if we had power equipment that would take weeks."

  "We don't have the men to cover that much perimeter, even counting Major Esterling's men

  and Hope's militia," Oriis said. For the past several days he had made a point of eating supper with his lieutenants each evening, an informal officers' call. But, so far, there had been little to

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  discuss. There was no substantial news from regiment, no word of progress in the talks between Colonel Flowers and Aldrin West. And intelligence about West troop movements had proved to be spotty.

  "Trench warfare was a disaster on Earth," Lon said. "All that it led to was millions of casualties, without either side being able to gain much ground. That's why mobility was the key word for both sides in the next major conflict."

  "Things start popping here and I imagine we'll be mobile again," Orlis said. "All this work is just to keep us in one piece in case our employers turn against us. We've got to stay in one place as long as there's no overt aggression against us. We can't be seen as starting hostilities against West."

  Second Battalion had been in place around Hope for a month before there was any change.r />
  Colonel Black had moved his headquarters into Alpha's camp. It had been too isolated where it was. Colonel Flowers sent a message to al! of the regiment's officers. "The government of Aldrin West has stated formally, in writing, that 7th Regiment has fulfilled its contract, that they see no purpose in our remaining any longer to prevent new settlers from coming in from Aldrin East, and requesting—demanding—that we leave Aldrin as soon as practical, and in no case are we to remain longer than seventy-two hours from the time of receipt of the message. My reply was to thank them for acknowledging our successful completion of the contract but I informed them that we would be unable to leave Aldrin within the time frame they 'suggested,' that I am required to wait for clearance from Diligent and the Council of Regiments. I renewed our proposals, and my support for those made directly to Aldrin West by Aldrin East. 'Since we are now recognized as neutrals here,' I told the government of West, 'we are even more suitable for the role of mediation during any extended negotiations between the two governments toward resolution of their CAPTAIN

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  long-standing differences.' So far I have had no reply. The watchword remains vigilance."

  "They've pulled in the welcome mat and told us to go away," Orlis commented to his lieutenants.

  "How long do you thing Colonel Flowers can stall before things get ugly?" Hoper asked.

  Orlis shook his head. "I imagine he's used up everything already, or West wouldn't have told us to get out so bluntly."

  "But we're not going," Lon observed.

  "There's nothing about packing our bags in the colonel's message," Orlis said.

  "We could go east. We're welcome there, it seems," Carl suggested.

  "Or bring the rest of the regiment down here," Lon said. "That gets us out of the way but doesn't abandon Hope."

  A smile crossed Orlis's face. "I imagine that would be considered extremely provocative.

  Any move that wasn't up to the fleet would be. My guess is that the rest of the regiment will just have to hunker down where they are and take their chances."