Marta punched him in the chest. "You dumb ass!" The tears streamed down her cheeks. "Of course I was going to be here when you got back! I'm a Marine wife, damnit!"
They talked for a long time. Conorado told Marta everything.
"This Jennifer, Lew, did you love her?"
"Yes. If you'd left me, I was going to ask her to marry me."
"She had guts."
"Yeah. Like you. Martie, I need you. That's all I know how to say."
"Well, when they were holding me hostage in that cabin in the mountains, you know what kept me going, Lew? I kept asking myself, ‘What would Lew do in a situation like this?’ I was not going to give in to them because I didn't want you to be ashamed of me. So when the time came—"
"Marta, we don't have much time. I have to join the FIST. We're leaving fifth day. Something real bad is happening out there."
"There've been rumors. What is it this time, Lew?"
"It's those things third platoon ran into on Society 437. They're back."
Marta went cold. She wasn't supposed to know about the Skinks, but once Brigadier Sturgeon had found out about the secret quarantine of the FIST and decided to tell his Marines the what and why, it wasn't long before the dependents found out as well. "You have got to stop them," she said slowly, decisively. "But fifth day's not here yet. Let's live a little. Let's go into Bronnys! Let's eat steak, drink beer, and smoke cigars with the 'Finnis, just like Marines do! Come on, Lew, my appendages are working again and, oh, hell, I haven't tied one on since the night you left!"
Big Barb's was roaring when the Conorados arrived. Several ships were in port and the crewmen were living it up raucously. Conorado had told Marta that they couldn't go to Bronnys without at least dropping in at Big Barb's. "That's where third platoon goes on liberty, and you haven't lived until you've met Big Barb herself." By the time they got to Big Barb's, the Conorados had drunk just enough beer that the place actually looked inviting.
A couple sat at a small table that had two vacant chairs. "May we?" Conorado asked.
The man stood. "Certainly, glad to have your company. My name is John Francis and this is my wife, Hilma." The men shook hands.
"Is it always like this in here?" Marta asked.
Hilma laughed. "It's worse on nights when the Marines are here."
"Capitan!" It was Big Barb herself! "Ve are not seeink you here too much! Ach, der FIST iss on deployment agin! Alvays dese deployments wid you Marines! Iss bad for my business. You are nod goink wid dem?"
"I leave on fifth day. Barb, this is my wife, Marta. Marta, I'd like you to meet the legendary Miss Freya Banak, for some reason known to everyone as ‘Big Barb.’"
"I don' know dis ‘legendary’ stuff, ma'am, but der capitan, der Marines likes him lots 'n' dey spends der moneys here alvays when on liberty! I get you beer, iss on da house for da capitan and hiss lovely wife!" She bustled off through the crowd like an icebreaker in early spring.
Marta grinned. "So that's her? She seems to think highly of you, Lewis."
The beers came and they drank and ordered more and talked for a long time with John and Hilma. "How long have you been married?" Marta asked Hilma at last.
Hilma smiled at John and leaned up against him. "We just got married."
Suddenly it seemed to Marta that the place went quiet. The noise, the singing, the dancers swirling in the smoke, the overpowering aroma of stale beer in the sawdust on the floor, all receded into the background. It was just her and Lewis now. "So did we," she said. "So did we." And she kissed her husband on the cheek.
Epilogue
The flight from Gambini to Kingdom would have been a crushing bore for Captain Conorado except that Colonel Ramadan and Brigadier Sparen, the commander of 26th FIST, agreed that he could assist the men of 26th FIST with their prelanding briefings. Conorado was especially helpful to them because he could explain things about 34th FIST that they needed to know; in particular, details about third platoon's encounter with Skinks on Waygone and what they could expect once they encountered them on Kingdom.
Being part of 26th FIST's training program, physical workouts in the transport's gym, and long conversations with Colonel Ramadan, made the flight more bearable, but always in the front of Conorado's mind was the fate of the men in his company. The casualty list Ramadan had shown him before their departure horrified him. Sure, he had almost boasted about the 201 dead souls he carried around in his heart, memories of all the good men he'd known who'd died or been killed in the Corps. But facing up to more additions to that list was hard.
Am I getting too old for this? Conorado asked himself. Am I losing my edge as an infantry commander? He had it out with Ramadan on the eve of their landing on Kingdom. They finished the last of the Anniversarios that night too.
"Lew, you wouldn't be human if you didn't feel this way. I'm worried about the men too, and I'm a lot farther away from them than you are!"
"Sir, I know we lose men in combat, and I know that I have to take responsibility when that happens. I also know I can't let that prey on my mind when the mission's at stake. But this time..." Conorado shrugged and looked intently at the deck.
"You know what, Lew? Think of it this way: lots, and I mean lots, of good men who are alive now would be dead if it weren't for officers of your caliber. The only outright disaster ever to happen to your company occurred when one of your platoon commanders, Ensign—what was his name?—didn't work out."
"Baccacio."
"Yes, Baccacio. Lew, I have served with and under officers who were good men, but they couldn't hold the proverbial candle to you."
Brigadier Sturgeon welcomed Conorado back warmly but his command post was jumping with the demands of putting 26th FIST under his operational control. Sturgeon took Conorado aside briefly.
"Lew, I have some very bad news for you. I don't have all the details yet, but it looks like they got Charlie Bass."
Conorado's heart skipped a beat. "Are they sure, sir?" he said, not betraying his shock. He was back in combat again. No time for regrets, no time to show emotion.
Sturgeon nodded grimly. "Company L's CP is only a few kilometers from here. I'll have a hopper take you there directly. That Lieutenant Humphrey of yours? He's a fine officer, Lew, a natural company commander. And Staff Sergeant Hyakowa? He's almost a perfect replacement for Bass. Get him to go for his commission." Sturgeon paused. "Well, again," Sturgeon laid a hand on Conorado's shoulder, "I am very sorry about Bass, Lew. I can't tell you how sorry." He looked into Conorado's eyes. They were dry. "Got a staff meeting now, Lew. Van Winkle will be briefing company commanders at sixteen hours. Welcome back."
Lieutenant Humphrey and acting platoon commander Staff Sergeant Hyakowa were ecstatic welcoming their company commander back.
"Tell me what happened to Bass."
"It happened a few weeks ago, Skipper," Humphrey began. "Charlie was checking remote observation posts. Somehow, he walked into an ambush the Skinks had set. He and everybody with him got wiped out."
"There wasn't much left, sir," Hyakowa added. "We found his weapon, his bracelet and helmet, all bloody and badly damaged. DNA testing showed the blood was Charlie's. It's been a while, Skipper. We—We're putting it behind us now."
"They may have taken him prisoner," Conorado mused.
"Skipper, they don't take prisoners," Humphrey said.
Conorado nodded. "Wangs," he said to Staff Sergeant Hyakowa, "I know you've done a good job as acting platoon commander, but in this situation, third herd needs both a platoon commander and a platoon sergeant. Lieutenant Rokmonov, take over third platoon. Wang, you're back to platoon sergeant again. But let me tell you, Bass is not dead," he said firmly.
"How...?" both asked at once.
"I know because," Conorado tapped his chest several times, "he's not here yet. He's not dead. He's not." Humphrey and Hyakowa looked aghast at their company commander. Seeing their expressions, he added, "I just know it, that's all. All right? Now," he drove a fist into the pa
lm of his hand, "26th FIST's aboard and we are going to kick some Skink ass!"
Humphrey and Hyakowa exchanged glances as they left the CP. Had the Skipper lost it? they wondered.
Charlie Bass was dead.
Now they had to integrate the replacements who had come in with the Skipper.
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