by Kris Neville
ask. I say to them, I say, 'God damn it'--excuse me,sir--'I told you to do it, ain't that enough?' Well, this Schuster, sir,he worried all the time. He got so he cut himself shaving. Damnedestthing. Oh, hell, maybe for the last week, every morning, he came out abloody mess. Patches of toilet paper all over his face. 'I can't shave,'he'd say. 'My God, I can't shave.' He wasn't nervous, either. His handswere okay. They didn't shake. It's just that he couldn't shave. Like Isay, he was a nut."
No one spoke for a moment, and the corporal twisted uncomfortably.
Then Mr. Tucker said, "Well, Corporal, tell me this, please."
"Yes, sir."
"What's your own personal impression of General Shorter?"
"The old man?" the corporal asked in surprise. "He's okay."
"Feel free to discuss this," Mr. Flison said. "We'd like to know,really, what your opinion is."
"Like I say, he's okay. He's got a job to do. You know, he busted meonce. General Shorter personally, I mean. Hell, I don't hold it againsthim, though. He's got his job to do, I got mine. I wouldn't say anythingagainst General Shorter, no, sir. He's a soldier. I mean, you know ...he's a soldier."
After the corporal was dismissed, Mr. Tucker said, "Well, gentlemen, Iguess we've about wrapped it up here. I think this is enough. Anybody'smind changed? I don't think we need any more, do you?"
Mr. Wallace sighed heavily. He looked down at his hands.
* * * * *
General Shorter was still at his writing desk when he was notified thatMr. Tucker would like to see him first thing in the morning.
"Another day of it, eh?" the general asked the sergeant who brought themessage.
"No, sir. From the other crew, I hear they're planning to leavetomorrow."
The general's face relaxed. His smile reflected weary tolerance. "Hadenough in one day, have they? It's about time they let us get back towork."
After the sergeant left, the general wrote a final paragraph:
"I've just been informed the 'investigation' is completed. In recordtime, it seems. They finished up in the mess tonight, talking to some ofthe men. So what did it all really accomplish? They took a long shipthat could better have been used somewhere else. Half my men are downwith the virus. They almost cost me my schedule. And to what end? Justanother piece of paper somewhere. Put Miracastle on the scale againstsome nice, heavy report and see which way the scale tips."
The general closed the diary. It was late now. He was very tired.
* * * * *
Mr. Tucker, after breakfast, knocked on the general's door.
"Come in," General Shorter called.
The civilian entered. The general dismissed the orderly with a nod. "AndI'll need some clean towels for tonight," he called. His voice washoarse.
"Yes, sir."
The door closed. The two of them were alone.
"Sit down. Excuse the cold. Got it last night. What do you say to abrandy?"
"Don't let me stop you."
"I never drink alone."
"Perhaps you'd better," Mr. Tucker said.
The general had paused just short of the cupboard. He turned slowly. "Inthat case, I'll make an exception, this once." He poured. "Just what didyou mean by that, sir? Let's get to the point."
"General Shorter, we're going to have to ask you to come back with us."
The general bent slightly forward. His lips were partly open, as thoughhe were listening to hear a second time.
"Why," he said, "I've too much work to do, sir. I'm afraid that's out ofthe question. It's just not possible at all."
Mr. Tucker waited.
General Shorter poured himself another brandy. His back was to thecivilian.
"There's nothing more important, right now, than my job here," he said.He drank the brandy in a single gulp.
"I don't see how it can wait, General," Mr. Tucker said.
The general's lips were dry. He closed his eyes tightly for a momentagainst the alcohol and the cold. He licked his lips. "What's the formalcharge?"
Mr. Tucker bent forward. His voice was soft and curious, as though thequestion were his final effort to understand something that puzzled himfor a long time. "What do you think it is, General?"
"What could it be?" the general said sharply. "I follow orders, sir. Iwas sent out here to make this planet suitable for human habitation.This is exactly what I have been doing." His voice was growingprogressively more angry and with an effort he curbed himself. "Putyourself in my position. I did what any field commander would have done.It was too late to stop it. I've got--It's a question of the limits ofnormal prudence. A matter of interpretation, sir."
The general was in the process of pouring still another drink. Theslender brandy glass broke under the force of his anger. He opened hispalm. Blood trickled from between his fingers.
The general looked up from the hand and fleeting annoyance came and wentbefore he was recalled to present reality. His eyes met Mr. Tucker's.
Mr. Tucker suddenly shivered as if touched by a wind from beyond themost distant stars, a wind which whispered: The aliens are among us.
"General," Mr. Tucker said, "the formal charge is murder."