“But you’d help us if you could. Wouldn’t you?”
“My God, yes. At least you’re safe now.”
She had a sad little smile. “Yes, nothing but a few scars. Come here. Please.” She stood. I went to her. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” she said.
I reached out to her. She stood rigidly. I could feel her trembling as I touched her.
“It happens every time,” she said. “Even now, and I like you. I . . . Hal, I’d give anything if I could just relax and let you hold me. But I can’t. It’s all I can do to sit here and talk to you.”
“Then I’d better let you go.”
“No. Please. Please understand. I like you. I want to talk with you. I want to show myself there are men I can trust. Just . . . don’t expect too much . . . not for a while. I keep telling myself I’m going to get over it. I don’t want to be alone, but I’m afraid to be with anyone, and I’m going to get over that.”
XIII
We had more weeks of parades and training. Falkenberg had a new scheme. He bought two hundred mules and assigned my company the job of learning to live with them. The idea was to increase our marching capability by using pack mules, and to teach the men to hang on to the pack saddles so they could cover more kilometers each day. It worked fine, but it only increased the frustration because there was nothing to march toward.
Governor Swale had gone back to Garrison, but Irina and Kathryn stayed as guests of the battalion. The men were pleased to have them on the post, and there was much less of a problem with discipline. They particularly adopted Kathryn. She was interested in everything they did, and the troops thought of her as a mascot. She was young and vulnerable, and she didn’t talk down to them, and they were half in love with her.
I was more than that. I saw so much of her that Falkenberg thought it worthwhile to remind me that the service does not permit lieutenants to marry. That isn’t strictly true, of course, but it might as well be. There’s no travel allowance and it takes an appeal to Saint Peter or perhaps an even higher level to get married quarters. The rule is, “Captains may marry, Majors should marry, Colonels must marry,” and there aren’t many exceptions to it.
“Not much danger of that,” I told him.
“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow. It was an infuriating gesture.
I blurted out her story.
He only nodded. “I was aware of most of it, Mr. Slater.”
“How in God’s name can you be so cool about it?” I demanded. “I know you don’t like her after that outburst—”
“Miss Malcolm has been very careful to apologize and to credit you with the explanation,” Falkenberg said. “And the next time you take the order book out of the safe, I’ll expect you to log it properly. Now tell me why we have three men of your company sleeping under their bunks without blankets.”
He didn’t really want an explanation, of course, and for that matter he probably already knew. There wasn’t much about the battalion that he didn’t know. It made a smooth change of subject, but I wasn’t having any. I told him, off the record, what the charges would have been if I’d officially heard what the men had done. “Centurion Ardwain preferred not to report it,” I said. “Captain, I still cannot understand how you can be so calm when you know that not two hundred kilometers from here—”
“Mr. Slater, I remain calm because at the moment there is very little I can do. What do you want? That we lead the 501st in a mutiny? If it is any comfort to you, I do not think the situation will last. It is my belief that Governor Swale is living in a fool’s paradise. You cannot deal with criminal gangs on any permanent basis, and I believe the situation will explode. Until it does, there is not one damned thing we can do, and I prefer not to be reminded of my helplessness.”
“But, sir—”
“But nothing, Mr. Slater. Shut up and soldier.”
* * *
Falkenberg had guessed right. Although we didn’t know it, about the time we had that conversation the Protective Association had decided to raise the price of grain. Two weeks later they hiked the price again and held up the shipments to show the Governor they meant it.
It wasn’t long after that the Governor paid another visit to Fort Beersheba.
Deane Knowles found me in the club. “His Excellency has arrived,” he said. “He’s really come with full kit this time. He’s brought Colonel Harrington and a whole company of militia.”
“What the devil are they for?” I asked.
“Search me.”
“I thought you knew everything, well, well. I suppose we will know soon enough. There’s Officers’ Call.”
The Governor, Colonel Harrington, and Falkenberg were all in the staff conference room. There was also a colonel of militia. He didn’t look very soldierly. His uniform was baggy, and he had a bulge around his middle. The Governor introduced him as Colonel Trevor.
“I’ll come right to the point, gentlemen,” Swale said. “Due to certain developments in the southern areas, I am no longer confident that food supply for the cities of Harmony and Garrison is assured. The local government down there has not negotiated in good faith. It’s time to put some pressure on them.”
“In other words,” Colonel Harrington said, “he wants to send the Marines down to bash heads so the Harmony merchants won’t have to pay so much.”
“Colonel, that remark was not called for,” Governor Swale said.
“Certainly it was.” There was no humor in Harrington’s voice. “If we can send my lads down to get themselves killed, we can tell them why they’re going. It’s hardly a new mission for the Line Marines.”
“Your orders are to hold the cities,” Swale said. “That cannot be done without adequate food supplies. I think that justifies using your troops for this campaign.”
“Sure it does,” Harrington said. “And after the CD pulls both of us out of here, what happens? Doesn’t that worry you a bit, Colonel Trevor?”
“The CoDominium won’t abandon Arrarat.” Trevor sounded very positive.
“You’re betting a lot on that,” Colonel Harrington told him.
“If you two are quite through,” Swale said. “Captain, how soon can your battalion be ready to march?”
Falkenberg looked to Colonel Harrington. “Are we to hold the Jordan area, as well, sir?”
“You won’t need much here,” Harrington said. “The militia can take over now.”
“And what precisely are we to accomplish in the southern farm area?” Falkenberg asked.
“I just told you,” Swale said. “Go down and put some pressure on the Protective Association so they’ll see reason.”
“And how am I to do that?”
“For heaven’s sake, Falkenberg, it’s a punitive expedition. Go hurt them until they’re ready to give in.”
“Burn farms and towns. Shoot livestock. Destroy transport systems. That sort of thing?”
“Well . . . I’d rather you didn’t do it that way.”
“Then, Governor, exactly what am I to do?” Falkenberg demanded. “I remind you that the Protective Association is itself an occupying power. They don’t really care what we do to the farmers. They don’t work that land; they merely expropriate from those who do.”
“Then confine your punitive actions to the Protective Association—” Swale’s voice trailed off.
“I do not even know how to identify them, sir. I presume that anyone I find actually working the land is probably not one of the criminal element, but I can hardly shoot everyone who happens to be idle at the moment I pass through.”
“You needn’t be sarcastic with me, Captain.”
“Sir, I am trying to point out the difficulties inherent in the orders you gave me. If I have been impertinent, you have my apology.”
Sure you do, I thought. Deane and Louis grinned at each other and at me. Then we managed to get our faces straight. I wondered what Falkenberg was trying to do. I found out soon enough.
“Then what the devil do you suggest?” Swale demanded.
“Governor, there is a way I can assure you a reasonable and adequate grain supply. It requires your cooperation. Specifically, you must withdraw recognition from the Protective Association.”
“And recognize whom? An unorganized bunch of farmers who couldn’t hold on to the territory in the first place? Captain, I have sympathy for those people, even if all of you here do suspect me of being a monster with no feelings. My sympathy is of no matter. I must feed the people of Harmony, and to do that I’ll deal with the devil himself if that’s what it takes.”
“And you very nearly have,” I muttered.