Fitz knew this rat. He’d long since stopped regarding her as anything other than another person. The crucible of the front line was far too hot for the metals in it not to meld. He’d learned to understand some of the things she left unspoken. Ariel was going to die. Rats did without most things except food and sex. Losing her tail was like a man losing his balls, but a lot more public.
“I despair of ever winning affection.” Voice synthesizers were not designed to carry the loss. But Fitz understood anyway. Ariel . . . Ariel had been accustomed to being the very best. To being sought after. To knowing herself as desirable. Well. He knew partly how it felt. The left side of his face was never going to be anything but a mask to frighten children. The wounds on his thigh and lower abdomen had been repaired. But he couldn’t bet anyone his left ball anymore.
“I still love you, Ariel. I love you for what you are, not for what you look like. I don’t have a tail myself.”
The rat snuffled. “I always thought ’twas a sad lack in you.”
She scrambled up the bedclothes, and gave his throat a slight nip. Rats didn’t kiss but that as a gesture of trust and affection was as close as it came—a sort of “I could rip your jugular out but I won’t.”
“Take care,” she snuffled, and got up to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Away.”
“Stay. Please stay,” he begged, urgently.
She paused. “Why?”
“Because I need you. Well, because I still love you. And tails have never been very important to me. Um. And because I have chocolate for you. We humans never offer chocolate to those we don’t love.”
“Never?”
He knew the prescribed rat-reply. “Well, hardly ever.”
She even summoned up a ratly look of acquisitiveness. “Chocolate Cointreau straws? I wouldn’t stay for less. Someone who loved me would give me those.”
“Hmph. Cupboard love,” he said loftily, knowing he’d won at least a reprieve, especially as he had some of the desired item.
She took it. To his surprise she offered him a bite. It was the most unratly gesture he’d ever seen her make. Then, with her sticky chocolate, she burrowed under the bedclothes. “Well. I can’t love your tail. I still think ’tis a sad lack in you. I mean size does count, and a girl could get some respect with a boyfriend like you, if you had a tail in proportion.”
* * *
When Fitz opened his eyes again, there was a four-star general, and several other staff officers, looking at him. He hoped that the general was not aware of the beady eyes peering at him from under the blanket. There were also two people who bore the unmistakable mark of “press” even if one hadn’t borne a shoulder-cam as well. The other one grimaced. “Better focus on the right side of his face. He’s not a pretty sight on this side. Right, General, you’re on. Roll it, Paul.”
Fitz discovered that he was now a major. The bits of gold in his hand seemed a very poor recompense for his troops’ lives. “And for service over and above the call of duty in the capture of the first intact Magh’ fieldpiece: The George Bernard Shaw Cross, first class.”
“Thank you, sir. But I believe the credit should go to the men and rats in my unit, sir. A number of them lost their lives in this action, and I’d like them to get the recognition for their courage. And we captured an entire pod of Magh’ guns. We’d have held them if Colonel Brown had sent us the reinforcements we were promised. Loss of life and loss of those fieldpieces is due to his and General Bulcher’s decisions not to back us up.” Fitz hoped this was going out live.
The general was only momentarily discomfited. “General Bulcher was unfortunately misinformed by the colonel. The matter is under investigation. But you and the men under your command did very well under the circumstances. A rather substantial number of medals are being awarded. Lieutenant Cavanagh will command one of the most decorated units on the front.” He cleared his throat. “I believe you may be invalided out of active frontline duty, Major. You’re a valuable soldier. Too valuable to waste on just any desk job. Which is why I have ordered your transfer to the Military Intelligence Corps. You’ll be replacing Major Dunsay.”