“Solace is pushing us everywhere,” Huber said. He was glad to talk to somebody. Misery wanting company, he supposed, and he knew he could trust Doll. “We’re just trying to block their advances.”
He shrugged again and went on, “The Waldheim Dragoons are landing at Port Plattner in a day’s time. They’re mechanized and brigade strength, maybe a thousand combat vehicles. They’ve got powerguns and there’s three 5-cm cannon in each platoon. Those’ll take out a tank at short range, and a combat car’s toast any time they hit it.”
Doll made a moue and patted her tight black hair with her fingertips as she absorbed the information. “I can tell you,” she said, staring toward the bulldozed wasteland past the slanting louvers, “that the UC isn’t expecting the arrival of any significant reinforcements in the next ten days. I’d have been warned to make sure there’d be circuits clear.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Huber explained. “Solace is landing the Dragoons in a single lift. In a week or less they’ll be organized and move out. It’d take a month to unload a brigade in what passes for spaceports in the UC, and it’d take longer than that to put the dribs and drabs together as a fighting force. Via, what we’ve got now isn’t a coherent force except for the Regiment!”
“Could Nonesuch do anything?” Doll asked. “They’re the major player in this arm of the galaxy.”
“Lindeyar isn’t somebody whose good will I’d want to depend on,” Huber said. He chuckled at the thought. “But I sure don’t see a better hope.”
He was still wearing his commo helmet out of habit. The faceshield was raised, so the attention signal chimed in his ear instead of being a flashing icon. At the same time Doll’s switched-off console lit under Central’s control.
Colonel Hammer’s face coalesced out of pearly light. He looked grim, though that was normal for the few times Huber had seen the Colonel make a Regiment-wide announcement.
“Listen up, troopers,” Hammer said. Huber and Basime stared at the display. Hammer’s hard gray eyes were locked with theirs, despite the varied angles, and with those of everyone else who viewed the transmitted image. “Orders’ll be coming down in two hours. Be ready to move with your field kit. This means everybody. There’ll be reassignments of rear echelon personnel to line slots where they need to be filled.”
The Colonel rubbed his forehead; for a moment he looked very tired. His expression hardened again and he went on, “You’ve been the best soldiers every place you’ve fought. It’s no different here. Do your jobs, troopers; and if I do mine as well as you’ve always done yours, we’re going to pull this off yet!”
The image shrank and vanished; the memory of the Colonel’s words hung a moment longer in the small office. Huber got to his feet.
“Going to get your kit together, Arne?” Doll said as she squeezed aside to let him past.
“That’s next,” Huber said. “First I’m going to see the Colonel.”
He grinned at Doll as he opened the door. He felt numb, and there was a glowing wall in his mind that blocked off all the future except the next five minutes or so.
“First . . .” Huber said as he stepped into the outer office. “I’ve got to make sure I’m going back to the line!”
* * *
Huber strode toward the TOC entrance, his left leg stiff but not slowing him up a bit. He didn’t know how he was going to bluff his way through the guards, but as it chanced he didn’t have to. They’d heard the Colonel also, and they knew a lot of people were going to be moving fast on Regiment business.
Half a dozen figures came up the ramp from the TOC at the same time as Huber reached the wire going the other way. He unhooked the gate and pulled it open, then closed it behind him when they’d passed.
The last one through was the civilian, Lindeyar. He reached back and caught Huber’s arm over the wire. “You, Lieutenant!” he cried. “There’s to be a vehicle to carry me to Benjamin!”
Huber hooked the wire loop to the gate’s frame. He pulled his arm away, suppressing a momentary desire to slap the civilian back on his haunches with the same movement. He nodded to the guards and shuffled down the ramp, keeping to the right side as three more officers came out of the buried trailers with set expressions. They were on their way to duties that weren’t limited to staring at a display as other people fought a war. . . .