There was a rasp of claws on the door. I positioned myself in the doorway and triggered its opening. Zur was standing outside in the corridor holding a small box in his hand. I stood aside to show my willingness to accept his company, and he entered.
“I saw your name on the list of Candidates, Rahm,” he stated without ceremony.
“That is correct,” I confirmed, “though by the Black Swamps I don’t know why. My progress with the assignment thus far verifies my original impressions that I am not qualified for this type of work.”
He cocked his head at me in question.
“I should have thought that a Warrior of your experience would be quite adept at this analysis,” he commented.
“Perhaps in theory,” I replied. “In actuality I find little in my prior experience to assist me in this.”
“Explain?” he requested.
“Even though I have held certain lower-level authoritative positions, they have always been of an execution nature. I have been a tactician, not a strategist. I have always been presented with a plan, and my task was to modify it according to existing conditions and put it into action.
I gestured to the racks of data tapes.
“Now, instead of adapting an existing plan, I am required to devise a plan and state its requirements. Instead of being given a plan, an objective, ten Warriors, and three skimmers, and told to deploy them, I am given an objective, and asked how many Warriors and what equipment would be required to achieve that objective. It involves an entirely different logic process, one that I am not sure I possess.”