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"Balmy spring morning" at that northerly lat.i.tude of Thorsfinni's World meant the breeze was stiff but seldom howled or gusted to gale force, and the temperature was a bit above ten degrees Celsius. The air was damp with moisture from the snow evaporating from the mountains that lurked on the windward horizon-n.o.body but the new men noticed the constant, pervasive, smell of fish.
"Sir!" Gunnery Sergeant Thatcher barked, and brought his hand crisply up in salute as Lieutenant Humphrey marched up and halted two paces in front of him. "Company L, all present and accounted for."
Humphrey returned Thatcher's salute. "Company L, all present and accounted for," he echoed. "You are dismissed, Gunnery Sergeant."
26 Thatcher cut his salute, said, "Aye aye, sir," and executed a sharp about-face. He marched to the barracks and disappeared into it.
Everyone's attention was piqued; the lieutenant carried a clipboard. Captain Conorado never carried a clipboard to morning formation unless he had some important news to give them. As Humphrey looked over the formation from one end to the other, each Marine before him was trying to guess what Humphrey would say. There could be an important visitor coming, or a FIST commander's inspection, or a deployment. The platoon commanders, standing at attention in a line behind him, also gave no hint. A deployment was most likely. Even though Company L had deployed by itself recently, and its third platoon not long before that, the entire FIST hadn't mounted out in a couple of years, an unusually long time.
A couple of years. The normal tour of duty for a Marine a.s.signed to a hards.h.i.+p post such as 34th FIST was two years. Many of the Marines had been with 34th FIST for much longer than two years. Maybe Humphrey had word on when rotations would resume. Probably not. He'd dismissed Gunny Thatcher, so maybe it was an unexpected training exercise and the Gunny needed extra time to make plans for it. Humphrey didn't let the suspense last overlong. "At ease," he said in a voice that carried clearly, and stood easy himself. "Thirty-fourth FIST has a deployment." The announcement was met stoically by the men who had been with the FIST the longest and were most looking forward to transfer. It was received with nervous antic.i.p.ation by the newest Marines who had never been on a deployment.
"Eight days from today," the acting company commander continued, "we will board the CNSS Grandar CNSS Grandar Bay Bay , an Amphibious Landing s.h.i.+p Force, for transport to the Kingdom of Yahweh and His Saints and Their Apostles. I know a few of you have been to Kingdom in the past. It appears the peasants are revolting again. Thirty-fourth FIST's mission is to restore peace and order." Humphrey didn't sound happy about the deployment, and with good reason; he was one of the Marines in Company L who had been there before and had no love and less respect for the world's government. , an Amphibious Landing s.h.i.+p Force, for transport to the Kingdom of Yahweh and His Saints and Their Apostles. I know a few of you have been to Kingdom in the past. It appears the peasants are revolting again. Thirty-fourth FIST's mission is to restore peace and order." Humphrey didn't sound happy about the deployment, and with good reason; he was one of the Marines in Company L who had been there before and had no love and less respect for the world's government.
"During the coming week you will have time to put your affairs in order. Most of the time, though, we will undergo refresher training on civil strife response actions. There are no further announcements. When you are dismissed you will proceed to your quarters and commence preparations for deployment. You will be notified of the time and place of the first training evolution.
"COMP-ney, a-ten-HUT!" he barked, and snapped-to himself. There was a crisp snap as the Marines returned to the position of attention. Humphrey looked them over again, then said, "Platoon sergeants, take your platoons!" He stepped off and led the officers back into the barracks. The sergeant of third platoon, w.a.n.g Hyakowa, pivoted to face his men. "At ease," he said, and held up a hand. "No questions. This is the first I've heard of this deployment. I don't know anything about the training we'll be having other than the civil strife response action training I've had in the past, and most of you have had that training as well. I've never been to Kingdom, so I can't tell you anything about it either."
That last statement wasn't totally true. Hyakowa had heard about it from other Marines who'd been there, and seen the trids and vids they'd made of conditions on that world. He knew it to be an agrarian world on which the overwhelming majority of the population lived and worked in the countryside; communication with the outside universe, including books and all other forms of entertainment, was 27 27 forbidden to the general populace; literacy beyond what was needed for scripture study was almost nonexistent; life expectancy for all but the ruling theocracy was little more than half the 117 years in the Confederation at large.
The little Hyakowa knew about Kingdom made him wonder why the Confederation a.s.sisted its government in putting down the frequent peasant revolts instead of aiding the rebels. But that was something he couldn't say to his Marines. What he did tell them was: "You heard Lieutenant Humphrey. Go to your quarters and start packing. Dismissed."
The platoon broke formation and the Marines headed for the back door of their wing of the barracks, talking among themselves. Hyakowa didn't try to listen to them as they went past, but he couldn't help but overhear comments, and so it was obvious to him that the more experienced Marines didn't like the deployment, and that it had nothing to do with resentment over their indefinitely delayed rotations to more civilized, more mainstream duty stations than Thorsfinni's World. Few Marines who'd ever been on a mission to put down a peasant revolt had any stomach for another. Generally, peasants were poorly armed and trained, and more often than not their leaders.h.i.+p had little or no knowledge of military tactics. Thirty-fourth FIST's deployment to Wanderjahr three years earlier had been an exception; the leaders of the rebels had excellent military training. Even so, when the Marines and rebels had met, it was a slaughter. It was one thing to meet a properly trained and equipped soldier in combat and kill him-he at least had a chance, no matter how small. It was altogether something else to kill an untrained, poorly armed farmer-especially one who might have a legitimate grievance. But they were Marines, Hyakowa thought. They went where they were sent and did their job. n.o.body said they had to agree with the mission, much less like it.
When the second fire team of third platoon's second squad reached its room on the second level of the barracks, Corporal Kerr, the fire team leader, went straight into the head they shared with the squad's third fire team and bolted both doors, though the head could accommodate all six men simultaneously. He needed a few minutes' privacy. It had been on a mission not too dissimilar, one that required heavy civic action, that he was savagely wounded and spent many hours in surgery while the doctors put the inside of his chest cavity back into a working arrangement. That was followed by months of recuperation, and even more months of physical therapy while he regained his full strength and agility. Since his return to Company L after an absence of nearly two years, Kerr had been on two deployments: Third platoon went to the exploratory world nicknamed "Waygone," and then Company L went to the quarantined world of Avionia. On the first one, they encountered strange beings from elsewhere, the ones they called Skinks. On the second, they dealt with smugglers who were trading with a backward alien sentience. Contact with that sentience, the existence of which was a closely guarded state secret, was the reason for the cancellation of all transfers out of 34th FIST. When he'd first returned, Corporal Kerr was uncertain whether he'd be able to function properly as a combat infantry noncommissioned officer. But after an initial fright on Waygone, he'd been the same cool, collected Marine corporal he'd always been. But neither of those missions had been a civil action. Neither had any relations.h.i.+p to the mission on which he'd been almost killed. This one did. Quite unexpectedly, Corporal Kerr found himself terrified at the prospect of a civil strife response 28 28 action. He knew he had to get hold of himself and overcome this fear. If he didn't, he not only risked his own life, but would unnecessarily place the lives of his men, and other Marines, in jeopardy.
Lance Corporal Schultz noted Corporal Kerr's disappearance and chose to ignore it. He knew Kerr was a solid Marine who would get over whatever was bothering him. He turned immediately to his own preparations. He had little in the way of personal possessions that he couldn't take along; his packing could wait until the last day or until he was ordered to pack. First, he wanted to learn about Kingdom. This wasn't his usual first step in preparing; usually he made sure-for him an unneeded operation-that his weapons were ready. Next, he wanted to undergo any training that might be needed for the mission. Learning about the mission world was low priority because, he figured, people were people no matter where they were in Human s.p.a.ce. But Schultz had heard a few comments when morning formation broke up, and thought he detected an undertone to Lieutenant Humphrey's voice when he told them about the mission. This made him curious. He got out his reader, flipped it on, and checked the index. Yes, it still held the Confederation Intelligence Agency's FactBook Overview. He called it up and opened it to the entry on the Kingdom of Yahweh and His Saints and Their Apostles. Three short paragraphs. Founded by an ec.u.menical group of religious fundamentalists, Kingdom had a closed, agrarian culture. It was well away from normal s.h.i.+pping routes and had little interstellar trade. The small off-worlder community was restricted to one settlement, Interstellar City. Congress between off-worlders and Kingdomites was limited to official contacts. The entry was followed by a short listing of references, none of which Schultz had in his library. He was linking into the Camp Ellis library to see which of those references it had when Corporal Doyle, the fire team's third man, interrupted him.
"L-Lance Corporal Sch-Schultz?" Doyle was afraid of Schultz. In fact, Schultz was the kind of man who inspired fear, but Doyle's fear ran much deeper-he was secretly afraid of all warriors.
"Speak." Schultz kept his attention on his data search.
"What's it like?"
"What?" Schultz found a reference and downloaded it for study. He kept searching.
"A civil strife response action? You've been on one." Doyle's most recent duty was as Company L's senior clerk. His entire Marine career had been as a clerk, so he was familiar with the careers of the Marines of the company. This was his first a.s.signment as an infantryman.
"Chickens.h.i.+t." Schultz found two more references and downloaded them.
"What?"
"Hmm." Schultz had found and downloaded a total of seven references, precious little for a Confederation member world.
"Wh-What do you m-mean, 'chickens.h.i.+t'?" Schultz glowered at Doyle. He wanted to read the material he'd downloaded. "Farmers acting up. We put them in their place. Almost like Elneal. Chickens.h.i.+t." Schultz returned to his reader. 29 29 "Farmers acting up?" Doyle's mind flashed on an ancient vid he'd once seen that showed peasants in homespun, swinging scythes and hoes as they attacked a castle. Then he flashed on a Hieronymous Bosch painting of h.e.l.l, with Marines as the devils and farmers as the d.a.m.ned souls. He shuddered. That wasn't anything like the action he'd taken part in on Elneal. Absently, he fingered the material of his s.h.i.+rt above the left pocket-where the Bronze Star medal he'd been awarded for that action hung on his dress reds.
Farmers acting up? A Boschian h.e.l.l? What?
He shuddered again.
Schultz was immersed in his study. The "chickens.h.i.+t" was about more than farmers acting up. He knew 34th FIST was secretly designated as the Confederation's official alien-contact military force. Why were they being sent to deal with a Mickey Mouse peasant revolt?
The company cla.s.sroom could comfortably seat fifty. All 120 Marines of Company L crammed themselves into it. The platoon sergeants stood against the wall on both sides of the entrance. Lieutenant Humphrey stood outside, waiting to make his entrance. Top Myer, the company first sergeant, stood at one side of the small stage opposite the entrance, Gunnery Sergeant Thatcher at the other. They gave the men a moment or two to settle themselves, then mounted the stage.
"AT EASE!" Thatcher bellowed. The susurration of voices stilled and all eyes turned toward the stage.
"We have a week before we mount out. We will spend that week in training for the coming mission." Myer looked through the entry door and caught Humphrey's nod. "COMP-ney, a-ten-HUT!" he roared. There was a cacophony of sc.r.a.ping chairs, shuffling and clicking boot heels as the Marines jumped to their feet and snapped to attention.
Lieutenant Humphrey strode into the cla.s.sroom, followed by the platoon commanders, who peeled off and took station next to their platoon sergeants.
"As you were!" Humphrey called when he was halfway down the aisle between the chairs. The men relaxed from their stiff postures but remained standing under the glares from Top Myer and Gunny Thatcher.
Humphrey reached the stage and stood at the lectern, looking out at the Marines for a moment. It wasn't formally necessary for him to make the appearance, and he had nothing to say that Myer and Thatcher wouldn't, but almost none of the men had known a commander other than Captain Conorado during the time they'd been with Company L. He needed to get them accustomed to seeing him as the commander until Conorado returned or another captain replaced him.
"Sit," he ordered.
When the Marines were seated, he began. "You know we have a mission. You know it's a civil strife response action. All of you have had training in civil strife response actions, but Company L hasn't trained 30 30 in it for quite some time. On Kingdom, Brigadier Sturgeon expects us to function in company-, platoon-, and squad-size actions. Therefore, during the short time we have before we mount out, we will train accordingly. The training will continue as conditions allow while we are in transit. By the time we make planetfall, I expect every man jack in this company to be so well versed in civil strife response actions, he'll be able to take a squad or larger unit of the Kingdom army and train it into proficiency." Humphrey cracked a smile, knocked it off his face. "Don't misunderstand, we won't integrate with the Kingdom army as we have with some other planetary armies. I don't think the ruling theocracy would allow such contamination of their true believers." This time he couldn't keep a wry smile off his face. A few of the Marines got the joke and chuckled. "We won't be training the Kingdom army, but I expect all of you to achieve that level of expertise. With good fortune, and a few Marines, this mission should be wrapped up in a matter of weeks. We should be back on Thorsfinni's World in time to undertake training with the flies and mosquitoes of high summer." That elicited groans from the Marines who had trained at Camp Ellis during the local summer.
"Now I'll turn you over to the good graces of First Sergeant Myer and Gunnery Sergeant Thatcher." He stepped away from the lectern and strode down the aisle to the exit.
"COMP-ney, a-ten-HUT!" Top Myer barked, and the men snapped to attention. He took station at the lectern and glowered at the men for a moment, then snarled, "Siddown and listen up. You heard the Skipper." He too would reinforce who was in command during Captain Conorado's absence. "You're going to learn, and you're going to learn well. You will train so hard you'll be able to do it all in your sleep. You'll need to be able to do it in your sleep, because even a whole FIST isn't big enough to deal with a planetwide uprising. Don't expect to get any sleep while we're on Kingdom. Everybody's going to have to do double and triple duty.
"Now, to get started on this. Gunny." He nodded to Gunny Thatcher and left the stage to join the platoon sergeants at the rear of the room.
"There's something I want to get out of the way immediately," Thatcher began, "because I don't want anybody worrying about it instead of paying attention. No nonlethal weapons. We don't know how the rebels are armed, so we go in with blasters and a.s.sault guns fully charged and at the ready." He paused to let the murmurs run their course. On their last mission, the men of Company L had been armed with nonlethal weapons. That had caused quite a bit of upset among the Marines, and might have led to a degree of laxity. Even though they hadn't suffered any fatalities as a result, there were a few casualties that might have been caused by overconfidence-if their opponent wasn't dangerous enough to require lethal force, the opponent couldn't be dangerous enough to harm them.
"The Rules of Engagement for this mission are still being developed," Thatcher said when the murmurs had gone on long enough, "but I can tell you what some of them are likely to be. Given the nature of Kingdom, one of the top rules will be no contact with the native population except under clearly prescribed conditions. Here's one way of interpreting that rule: any of you who believes in a girl in every port, tie a knot in it. You don't get a girl in this port." He went on for several more minutes. Most of the probable rules he discussed had to do with restraints on contact with the Kingdomites. Then he got into the training regimen.
"We're going to train in small unit ops, platoon and smaller, with heavy emphasis on squad and fire team actions." He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at the squad and fire team leaders, who grinned at the news; the junior NCOs relished the opportunities to act independently. Time to stabilize their excitement, he decided: "Many of you squad leaders and fire team leaders have been on operations before where you functioned 31 31 as leaders of independent units. There's a difference in this one." He paused, satisfied to see the grins slipping. "A probable ROE that I didn't mention is-no firing until fired upon." That was met with muted exclamations of disgust. No firing until fired upon sometimes caused casualties. Thatcher smiled inside.
"You have to challenge any armed people you come across. These are peasants, not soldiers; you have to give them a chance to surrender." All the grins were gone; the mission had suddenly become more difficult.
Thatcher talked a little longer about the training, then dismissed the Marines with, "All right. Make a head call. Even if you don't need to go, go anyway. It'll be several hours before you have another chance. Form up behind the barracks in fifteen minutes. Go!" There was clattering, shuffling, and shouts as the Marines left the cla.s.sroom.
CHAPTER SIX.
Thirty-fourth FIST began boarding the Amphibious Landing s.h.i.+p, Force, CNSS Grandar Bay CNSS Grandar Bay three days after it arrived in orbit around Thorsfinni's World. The three days after it arrived in orbit around Thorsfinni's World. The Grandar Bay Grandar Bay was a Mandalay cla.s.s s.h.i.+p, modern in all respects, including its berthing and the training s.p.a.ces for the Marines it carried. Mandalay s.h.i.+ps had the same troop-carrying capacity as the Crowe cla.s.s Amphibious Battle Cruiser, but lacked the Crowe's planet-busting armament. The integral weaponry of the Mandalay cla.s.s was purely defensive. Given the generally slight capability for s.p.a.ce combat of most planets, and the fact that amphibious landing s.h.i.+ps normally traveled in convoy with fighting s.h.i.+ps, the cla.s.s was effectively unarmed. The first thing Lance Corporal Schultz did when his weapons and other gear were secured in second squad's compartment was hook into the was a Mandalay cla.s.s s.h.i.+p, modern in all respects, including its berthing and the training s.p.a.ces for the Marines it carried. Mandalay s.h.i.+ps had the same troop-carrying capacity as the Crowe cla.s.s Amphibious Battle Cruiser, but lacked the Crowe's planet-busting armament. The integral weaponry of the Mandalay cla.s.s was purely defensive. Given the generally slight capability for s.p.a.ce combat of most planets, and the fact that amphibious landing s.h.i.+ps normally traveled in convoy with fighting s.h.i.+ps, the cla.s.s was effectively unarmed. The first thing Lance Corporal Schultz did when his weapons and other gear were secured in second squad's compartment was hook into the Grandar Bay Grandar Bay library. The little he'd learned about Kingdom from the resources available on Thorsfinni's World had only made him more curious about why 34th FIST was a.s.signed to this mission. Neither could he find anything in the very extensive library. The little he'd learned about Kingdom from the resources available on Thorsfinni's World had only made him more curious about why 34th FIST was a.s.signed to this mission. Neither could he find anything in the very extensive Grandar Bay Grandar Bay library to explain why a FIST with a specialized and cla.s.sified mission would be sent to put down a peasant rebellion. He would have scoffed had anybody suggested to him that routine bureaucratic machinations and inept.i.tude might be the reason. library to explain why a FIST with a specialized and cla.s.sified mission would be sent to put down a peasant rebellion. He would have scoffed had anybody suggested to him that routine bureaucratic machinations and inept.i.tude might be the reason.
Midway through the second day after the first elements of the FIST launched into orbit to board the Grandar Bay Grandar Bay , the last of its supplies were secured in the s.h.i.+p's holds and the stars.h.i.+p eased out of orbit and headed in a direction perpendicular to the planetary plane. Mandalay cla.s.s s.h.i.+ps were fast, and she reached jump point only three days after leaving orbit. Klaxons blared throughout the s.h.i.+p. "All hands, now hear this," a melodious female voice intoned. "All hands, now hear this. All hands not at required duty stations, secure for jump. All hands not at required duty stations, secure for jump. Jump is in zero-five minutes." None of the Marines had required duty stations. They'd already been restricted to their compartments in preparation for the jump into Beams.p.a.ce. Fire team leaders made sure their men were properly strapped into their racks, then strapped themselves in. Squad leaders checked their fire team leaders, and platoon sergeants followed up on the squad leaders. Everyone was ready before the computer's female voice announced, "Jump in one minute. All hands not in required duty stations, secure for jump." , the last of its supplies were secured in the s.h.i.+p's holds and the stars.h.i.+p eased out of orbit and headed in a direction perpendicular to the planetary plane. Mandalay cla.s.s s.h.i.+ps were fast, and she reached jump point only three days after leaving orbit. Klaxons blared throughout the s.h.i.+p. "All hands, now hear this," a melodious female voice intoned. "All hands, now hear this. All hands not at required duty stations, secure for jump. All hands not at required duty stations, secure for jump. Jump is in zero-five minutes." None of the Marines had required duty stations. They'd already been restricted to their compartments in preparation for the jump into Beams.p.a.ce. Fire team leaders made sure their men were properly strapped into their racks, then strapped themselves in. Squad leaders checked their fire team leaders, and platoon sergeants followed up on the squad leaders. Everyone was ready before the computer's female voice announced, "Jump in one minute. All hands not in required duty stations, secure for jump." 32 32 Jump into Beams.p.a.ce was routine for the Marines. Even the greenest Marine, fresh from Boot Camp, had jumped from s.p.a.ce-3 into Beams.p.a.ce and back no fewer than half a dozen times. Navigation between stars wasn't a precise science, and on a typical voyage a s.h.i.+p would have to return to s.p.a.ce-3 two or three times to recalculate its course. There was a moment of vertigo when the s.h.i.+p's gravity was turned off, then the female voice counted down the final seconds to jump. "... three, two, one, jump." Abruptly, the entire universe turned gray or black or red or purple. It shattered into colors so fragmented they couldn't be identified. Weight vanished; it wasn't a floating sensation like null-g had been, but a total absence of weight, as though ma.s.s had been turned off. All the weight that ever was, was now, and ever would be, settled onto every individual on the s.h.i.+p. There was no sound, yet there was such a volume of sound it seemed the universe must be ending in the collapse of everything into a primordial speck that instantly exploded in a Big Bang.
Then the transition from s.p.a.ce-3 into Beams.p.a.ce was complete. Colors returned to their proper places in the spectrum, sounds resumed normal audibility, and Newtonian ma.s.s reigned once more. The s.h.i.+p's gravity was turned back on.
"Aargh!" PFC MacIlargie cried out as he unstrapped himself from his rack. "Does anybody ever get used to that?" He lay supine in a top rack. Corporal Linsman, his fire team leader, stood up from his middle rack and smacked MacIlargie on the top of his head. MacIlargie yelped indignantly.
"n.o.body ever gets used to it so there's no point in complaining." Linsman checked the time. "Who's for chow?"
"How can you think of food after that?" MacIlargie said.
"The galley's open, that's how," Corporal Kerr said, standing up. "Let's go eat," he said to his men.
"We've got time before we hit the cla.s.sroom." Corporal Doyle shakily hauled himself out of the bottom rack. He looked more than a bit green, but if his fire team leader said "Let's eat," he'd get something down and try to keep it there.
"Later," Schultz grunted. He had already plugged his reader back into the library jack. Everyone but Schultz filed out of the compartment. A couple of them glanced oddly at him, wondering what it was that interested him so much, but none dared disturb the big man by asking.
One modern convenience of the Grandar Bay Grandar Bay was its galley arrangement. The main galley was large enough to accommodate two infantry companies at a time. The FIST's elements rotated through it three times a day, and each had an hour for each meal-not that any unit had an open hour for dining in its training and study schedule. Two smaller galleys were open around the clock except during the half hour prior to a jump into or out of Beams.p.a.ce. Those satellite galleys doubled as lounges for Marines who might find themselves with some unexpected leisure time. But once in a while they did. was its galley arrangement. The main galley was large enough to accommodate two infantry companies at a time. The FIST's elements rotated through it three times a day, and each had an hour for each meal-not that any unit had an open hour for dining in its training and study schedule. Two smaller galleys were open around the clock except during the half hour prior to a jump into or out of Beams.p.a.ce. Those satellite galleys doubled as lounges for Marines who might find themselves with some unexpected leisure time. But once in a while they did. 33 33 "How are you holding up, Dorny?" Corporal Kerr asked when he and Corporal Dornhofer found themselves relaxing over mugs of real coffee.
"I'm doing fine," Dornhofer replied. "Why not?"
"You were almost killed on Avionia. For a little while after you got shot we thought you were dead." Dornhofer laughed. "Yo, Kerr, I understand where you're coming from. But I wasn't almost killed the same way you were. I got drilled pretty bad, but it didn't tear up my insides like what happened to you."
"You sure?"
"Hey, I'm a Marine. Gotta expect to get dinged once in a while."
"That was one h.e.l.l of a ding you got."
"Want to compare scars? I'll bet yours is a whole lot bigger than mine." Kerr grunted. If Dornhofer had a scar, it was bigger than his own. After the doctors reconstructed the inside of his chest, they did just as good a job on the outside; he didn't have any scars from that wound. No visible scars anyway.
After four days the Grandar Bay Grandar Bay returned to s.p.a.ce-3, got its bearings, and jumped back into Beams.p.a.ce on a slightly different heading. The Marines continued their civil strife response action training. returned to s.p.a.ce-3, got its bearings, and jumped back into Beams.p.a.ce on a slightly different heading. The Marines continued their civil strife response action training.
During the downtime at the end of a training day of the second period in Beams.p.a.ce, Schultz jacked out of the library and announced, "No peasants."
"What do you mean, 'no peasants,'" Kerr asked idly without taking his eyes from the novel he was reading.
"Kingdom. Not a peasant rebellion."
"Then what is it?" Kerr kept reading.
"Don't know."
Kerr grunted and hoped Schultz would drop it. He was just getting into a tricky section of the novel's plot and it demanded his attention.
When Schultz didn't reply immediately, Doyle nervously asked, "What is it, Hammer?" Schultz just looked at Doyle. Doyle might have more rank than he did, but he had no experience. Well, not much experience. He knew that Doyle wouldn't understand if he told him. Schultz jacked back into the s.h.i.+p's library, not to do more research, but to wall himself off from the other men in the squad so he could spend time thinking.
Corporal Doyle, former company senior clerk now filling the billet of an infantry PFC, was headed into 34 34 an unknown danger. He felt a lump of cold in his chest. The lump grew into a bar that fused to the ventral side of his spine and grew toward his sternum. He spent a paralyzed moment wondering whether he could move without shattering, then crawled fully dressed into his rack, pulled the blanket over his shoulders, and hugged himself tightly. He hoped his violent s.h.i.+vering wasn't visible to the other Marines. Doyle's s.h.i.+vering was visible, but those few who noticed it misinterpreted the movement and thought he should have waited until lights out.
During the second jump, the Marines were introduced to a new piece of equipment they'd be using on Kingdom. The Grandar Bay Grandar Bay didn't have a s.p.a.ce large enough to gather the entire FIST, so each unit a.s.sembled in its normal cla.s.sroom, where the men watched the introduction given by Brigadier Sturgeon and the equipment technician over the s.h.i.+p's trid system. At first Gunnery Sergeant Ba.s.s wondered why Top Myer was watching him instead of the trid projection. But when the presentation started, he forgot all about the first sergeant and concentrated on not erupting in a compartment-mangling fury. didn't have a s.p.a.ce large enough to gather the entire FIST, so each unit a.s.sembled in its normal cla.s.sroom, where the men watched the introduction given by Brigadier Sturgeon and the equipment technician over the s.h.i.+p's trid system. At first Gunnery Sergeant Ba.s.s wondered why Top Myer was watching him instead of the trid projection. But when the presentation started, he forgot all about the first sergeant and concentrated on not erupting in a compartment-mangling fury.
"What the h.e.l.l is with those people?" Ba.s.s roared when the company's officers and senior NCOs a.s.sembled in the company office after the all-hands briefing. "Who in Fargo is getting paid off?"
"Now now, Charlie," Lieutenant Humphrey said placatingly. He patted the air for Ba.s.s to lower his voice.
"Are they getting money, women, are they being blackmailed?" Ba.s.s continued in a hardly lower voice.
"That's it! Terminal Dynamics has something on someone high up in procurement and is blackmailing him into buying this piece of s.h.i.+t!"
"Charlie," Top Myer said quietly, "calm down."
"No I will not calm down! That thing kills Marines!"
"Gunnery Sergeant!" Myer roared. "You will belay that s.h.i.+t!" Ba.s.s's teeth clacked together as he shut his mouth and snapped to attention. His face was so deep a red it verged on purple, and his chest heaved with each deep, fast breath he took. Ba.s.s's eruption was caused by the introduction of the Universal Positionator, Up-Downlink, Mark III. The first two UPUD Marks had been a combination radio, geographic position system, and motion detector-one piece of equipment designed to replace three. The Mark III also had the capability of data and detailed mapping reception.
It had been Ba.s.s's misfortune to field-test the first two versions of the UPUD under combat conditions. The first, on Fiesta de Santiago, had exposed a design flaw the manufacturer had glossed over. That flaw had gotten fifty Marines lost and out of communications. More than half of them died before they were able to reopen communications. Over his protests, Ba.s.s field-tested the Mark II on Elneal. It turned out to be too sensitive and burned itself out, again leaving Ba.s.s and his Marines isolated, with no communications or means of knowing exactly where they were. Now, after Ba.s.s thought the demon was dead and buried, its latest incarnation was being given to 34th 35 35 FIST to field-test on a live operation.
"I understand your feelings, Charlie," Myer said when he saw Ba.s.s had regained a measure of control.
"This isn't Fiesta de Santiago, it isn't Elneal. It's a Mickey Mouse peasant revolt. The thing can die the first time you power it up and it won't hurt a thing." Still at attention, eyes fixed on the bulkhead above and behind Humphrey, Ba.s.s said in a strained voice, "Elneal wasn't supposed to be Elneal either."
With two days remaining in the third and final jump, Company L a.s.sembled in a cla.s.sroom compartment for its final briefing before making planetfall on Kingdom. Communications with a s.h.i.+p in interstellar transit could only be accomplished by physically intercepting it at a jump point. Such interceptions had to be planned well in advance and were used only in the event vital information had to be pa.s.sed on. n.o.body in the Confederation government thought there was any information regarding this deployment that 34th FIST didn't already have, so there was no attempt to intercept it. Lieutenant Humphrey merely reiterated what the Marines already knew; he had nothing new to impart to them. He could have given them a pep talk about the importance of the mission, but he had misgivings and couldn't come up with anything that justified it in his own mind. Besides, he knew First Sergeant Myer would do a much better job of, as Top put it, "Tuning up the troops," than he could. So when he finished repeating what everybody already knew, Humphrey handed the company over to the first sergeant for his unofficial briefing. Then he and the platoon commanders retired to the company office to listen in on the s.h.i.+p's intercom. Top Myer's unofficial briefings were supposed to be restricted to the enlisted men, but everybody knew the officers listened in.
Top Myer waited until Gunny Thatcher dogged the hatch behind the departing officers, then bowed his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and began pacing to and fro. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone about it, but he believed the Marines should not be sent in to put down a peasant revolt on Kingdom. He'd never been there himself, but he'd undertaken as deep a study of the world as possible since the FIST got its orders. What he learned fleshed out everything he'd heard during his long career from other Marines who had been deployed to Kingdom. Fleshed it out and underscored it. Personally, he believed the Confederation should simply stand back and let the peasants overthrow the government. But they were Marines. They went where they were sent and did their jobs. n.o.body said they had to like the mission, much less agree with it. His job just then was to tune up the Marines so they'd go in alert and ready for anything. The sharper they were, the less likely any of them were to get wounded or killed. No matter how much he disliked the mission, he liked having Marines wounded or killed even less. He stopped pacing and faced the Marines of Company L.
"Peasant revolt," he began in a booming voice. "Most of you probably think this is going to be a cakewalk. You imagine we're going to face a bunch of poorly armed, ill-trained, badly led farmers.
"Maybe we will meet unprepared peasants. Probably not, though. You may not be aware of Confederation policy regarding peasant revolts. No military intervention until Confederation lives and property are threatened." He carefully neglected to say that policy applied only to Kingdom.
"Confederation officials and Confederation property are at threat on Kingdom. That's why Earth saw a need to deploy Marines. Not only are Confederation lives and property being threatened, the revolt must 36 36 be very widespread. Otherwise we wouldn't have an entire FIST deployed to deal with it. If it was the Mickey Mouse rebellion many of you may be thinking, the Confederation would send in a couple of companies from an army engineering outfit, or send in military police to deal with it. But they aren't sending the army, they're sending Marines. That means someone high up thinks this revolt is a very serious matter, and that the 'revolting peasants' present a clear and present danger.
"Now, just how dangerous can peasants be, you wonder? A millennium and a half ago, China was the most powerful nation on Earth. It had been united under one emperor for centuries, it was the most populous and geographically the largest nation-state on Earth. China secured its borders against potentially hostile nation-states by conquering and administering its immediate neighbors.
"One of those neighbors was a small country that occupied not much more than a river's valley and its delta. The country was called Nam Viet. Ah, I see some glimmers of recognition. Yes, the old United States Marines fought in Vietnam, but that was a much later version of the country after it had done its own expansion and was considerably bigger. But the Nam Viet I'm talking about was much smaller, and the Chinese thought it was weak.
"Two young women, the Tranh sisters, raised a peasant army and threw the Chinese out of Nam Viet.
"You heard me right. A peasant army, led by two young women, threw the most powerful nation on Earth out of their country. And they did it without outside a.s.sistance.
"In the fifteenth century England was clearly the most powerful nation in Europe. During the Hundred Years War, England conquered France, arguably the most powerful nation on the European continent. A peasant woman by the name of Joan raised an army and threw the English out of France.
"The American colonies' revolution against England in the eighteenth century qualifies as a peasant revolt, as does the French Revolution a few years later.
"The history of the first two-thirds of the twentieth century is the story of peasant army after peasant army in far-flung places rising up and throwing out colonial powers or overpowering despots: Kenya. Tanzania. Congo. The Dominican Republic. Cuba. Algeria. Vietnam. Iran.
"In the twenty-first century, United Central and Southern Africa was ruled by a despot who controlled one of Earth's largest and best equipped armies. Two hunters, N'Gamma Uhuru and Freedom Mbawali, raised an army of illiterate villagers-peasants-and defeated that army.
"Many of you were with 34th FIST when we went to Wanderjahr. The rebellion we dealt with there falls under the heading of 'peasant revolt.'
"Are you getting the idea that peasant rebellions aren't necessarily easy to put down? History is full of examples of peasant armies that rose up and defeated the professional armies of powerful nations. We cannot, we will not, join the ranks of professional armies that were defeated by a peasant army. Be aware, people! We are headed for something that could be far worse than anybody imagines." He was through. It didn't matter that every one of the "peasant revolts" he'd just enumerated was righteous, just as he thought the one on Kingdom probably was. The right or wrong of the mission was irrelevant; the important thing was to save the lives of his Marines.
"That is all." Top Myer began to head for the exit, but a loud voice stopped him. 37 37 "It's not peasants!"
He turned to the speaker; Lance Corporal Schultz.
"What do you mean?" he asked in an ominously soft voice.