“Then it’s true—you’re the only ones coming,” she said.
“Now, I didn’t say that,” Deane protested. “I said I didn’t know—”
“You needn’t lie,” she said. “I’m hardly a spy. You’re all they sent, aren’t you? No warship, and no regiment. Just a few hundred men and some junior officers.”
“I’d have thought you’d know more than we do,” I said.
“I just don’t give up hope quite as quickly as my father does.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I said. “The Governor sent for a regiment, but nobody’s told us what that regiment was supposed to do.”
“Clean up the mess we’ve made of this planet,” Irina said. “And I really thought they’d do something. The CoDominium has turned Arrarat into sheer hell, and I thought they’d have enough . . . what? Pride? Shame? Enough elementary decency to put things right before we pull out entirely. I see I was wrong.”
“I take it things are pretty bad outside the walls,” Deane said.
“Bad? They’re horrible!” Irina said. “You can’t even imagine what’s happening out there. Criminal gangs setting themselves up as governments. And my father recognizes them as governments! We make treaties with them. And the colonists are ground to pieces. Murder’s the least of it. A whole planet going to barbarism, and we don’t even try to help them.”
“But surely your militia can do something,” Deane said.
“Not really.” She shook her head, slowly, and stared into the empty wineglass. “In the first place, the militia won’t go outside the walls. I don’t suppose I blame them. They aren’t soldiers. Shopkeepers, mostly. Once in a while they’ll go as far as the big river bend, or down to the nearest farmlands, but that doesn’t do any good. We tried doing something more permanent, but it didn’t work. We couldn’t protect the colonists from the convict gangs. And now we recognize convict gangsters as legal governments!”
Donnelley came back in and went to the bar. Deane signaled for refills.
“I noticed people came out to cheer us as we marched through the city,” I said.
Irina’s smile was bitter. “Yes. They think you’re going to open up trade with the interior, rescue their relatives out there. I wish you could.”
Before we could say anything else, Captain Falkenberg came in. “Good afternoon,” he said. “May I join you?”
“Certainly, sir,” Deane said. “This is Captain Falkenberg. Irina Swale, Captain, the Governor’s daughter.”
“I see. Good afternoon. Brandy, please, Donnelley. And will the rest of you join me? Excellent. Another round, please. Incidentally, my name is John. First names in the mess, Deane—except for the colonel.”
“Yes, sir. Excuse me. John. Miss Swale has been telling us about conditions outside the walls. They’re pretty bad.”
“I gather. I’ve just spent the afternoon with the colonel. Perhaps we can do something, Miss Swale.”
“Irina. First names in the mess.” She laughed. It was a very nice laugh. “I wish you could do something for those people, but—well, you only have a thousand men.”
“A thousand Line Marines,” Falkenberg said. “That’s not quite the same thing.”
And we don’t even have a thousand Marines, I told myself. Lot of recruits with us. I wondered what Falkenberg had in mind. Was he just trying to impress the Governor’s daughter? I hoped not, because the way he’d said it made me feel proud.
“I gather you sympathize with the farmers out there,” Falkenberg said.
“I’d have to, wouldn’t I?” Irina said. “Even if they didn’t come to me after Hugo—my father—says he can’t help them. And I’ve tried to do something for the children. Do you really think—” She let her voice trail off.
Falkenberg shrugged. “Doubtless we’ll try. We can put detachments out in some of the critical areas. As you said, there’s only so much a thousand men can do, even a thousand Marines.”
“And after you leave?” Irina said. Her voice was bitter. “They are pulling out, aren’t they? You’ve come to evacuate us.”
“The Grand Senate doesn’t generally discuss high policy with junior captains,” Falkenberg said.
“No, I suppose not. But I do know you brought orders from the Colonial Office, and Hugo took them into his office to read them—and he hasn’t spoken to anyone since. All day he’s been in there. It isn’t hard to guess what they say.” Irina sipped at the wine and stared moodily at the oak table. “Of course it’s necessary to understand the big picture. What’s one little planet with fewer than a million people? Arrarat is no threat to the peace, is it? But they are people, and they deserve something better than— Sorry. I’m not always like this.”
“We’ll have to think of something to cheer you up,” Deane said. “Tell me about the gay social life of Arrarat.”
She gave a half smile. “Wild. One continuous whirl of grand balls and lewd parties. Just what you’d expect on a church-settled planet.”
“Dullsville,” Deane said. “But now that we’re here—”
“I expect we can manage something,” Irina said. “I tend to be Dad’s social secretary. John, isn’t it customary to welcome new troops with a formal party? We’ll have to have one in the Governor’s palace.”
“It’s customary,” Falkenberg said. “But that’s generally to welcome a regiment, not a random collection of replacements. On the other hand, since the replacements are the only military unit here—”
“Well, we do have our militia,” Irina said.
“Sorry. I meant the only Line unit. I’m certain everyone would be pleased if you’d invite us to a formal ball. Can you arrange it for, say, five days from now?”
“Of course,” she said. She looked at him curiously. So did the rest of us. It hadn’t occurred to me that Falkenberg would be interested in something like that. “I’ll have to get started right away, though.”
“If that’s cutting it too close,” Falkenberg said, “we—”
“No, that will be all right.”
Falkenberg glanced at his watch, then drained his glass. “One more round, gentlemen, and I fear I have to take you away. Staff briefing. Irina, will you need an escort?”
“No, of course not.”
We chatted for a few minutes more, then Falkenberg stood. “Sorry to leave you alone, Irina, but we do have work to do.”
“Yes. I quite understand.”
“And I’ll appreciate it if you can get that invitation made official as soon as possible,” Falkenberg said. “Otherwise, we’re likely to have conflicting duties, but, of course, we could hardly refuse the Governor’s invitation.”
“Yes, I’ll get started right now,” she said.
“Good. Gentlemen? We’ve a bit of work. Administration of the new troops and such. Dull, but necessary.”
VII
The conference room had a long table large enough for a dozen officers, with chairs at the end for twice that many more. There were briefing screens on two walls. The others were paneled in some kind of rich wood native to Arrarat. There were scars on the paneling where pictures and banners had hung. Now the panels were bare, and the room looked empty and cold. The only decoration was the CoDominium flag, American eagle and Soviet hammer and sickle. It stood between an empty trophy case and a bare corner.
Louis Bonneyman was already there. He got up as we came in.
“There won’t be many here,” Falkenberg said. “You may as well take places near the head of the table.”
“Will you be regimental adjutant or a battalion commander?” Deane asked me. He pointed to senior officers’ places.
“Battalion commander, by all means,” I said. “Line over staff any day. Louis, you can be intelligence officer.”
“That may not seem quite so amusing in a few minutes,” Falkenberg said. “Take your places, gentlemen.” He punched a button on the table’s console. “And give some thought to what you say.”
I wondered what the hell he meant by that. It hadn’t escaped me that he’d known where to find us. Donnelley must have called him. The question was, why?
“Ten-hut!”
We got up as Colonel Harrington came in. Deane had told me Harrington was over seventy, but I hadn’t really believed it. There wasn’t any doubt about it now. Harrington was short and his face had a pinched look. The little hair he had left was white.
Sergeant Major Ogilvie came in with him. He looked enormous when he stood next to the Colonel. He was almost as tall as Falkenberg, anyway, and a lot more massive, a big man to begin with. Standing next to Harrington, he looked liked a giant.
The third man was a major who couldn’t have been much younger than the Colonel.
“Be seated, gentlemen,” Harrington said. “Welcome to Arrarat. I’m Harrington, of course. This is Major Lorca, my Chief of Staff. We already know who you are.”
We muttered some kind of response while Harrington took his seat. He sat carefully, the way you might in high gravity, only, of course, Arrarat isn’t a high-gravity planet. Old, I thought. Old and past retirement, even with regeneration therapy and geriatric drugs.