“I’m in the market for carpet,” Gracie said.
“Then this is a lucky a day for one of us,” Crower said.
“Speak of the devil,” Leff said, and pointed toward the front of the room. “It looks like Captain Lehane is going to say something.”
Creek craned his head and saw a youngish man in a white dress uniform—the uniform of the Haysbert-American line—standing and banging a fork lightly against a wine goblet. The room, full of chatter, settled down quickly.
“Fellow veterans,” Lehane said. “Soldiers, marines, midshipmen, and yes, even officers”—this got a laugh—“I welcome you to the Neverland.” This line brought applause; Lehane smiled and let it go on for a few seconds and then held up his hand to settle it back down.
“All of us are here for a reason,” he said.
“To drink!” someone yelled from the back. The crowd roared.
Lehane smiled again. “All right, two reasons. The other reason is to honor our friends and comrades who fell on the field at Pajmhi. More than a decade has passed since we—some of us barely out of high school—fought and died in the largest commitment of human armed forces since our planet joined the Common Confederation. In that time, many things have been said about the Battle of Pajmhi. Many things have been said against it. But not once has anyone doubted the courage of the men and women who fought and died there. We above all people know this truth, and of the brotherhood and sisterhood formed between us in that fight, that exists now among those of us who lived, and that calls us to remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice for their planet and their fellow soldier.” He raised his goblet. “To our brothers and sisters.”
“To our brothers and sisters,” came back to him from every table. Everyone drank.
“As you know,” Lehane continued, “Chagfun is a special port of call for this journey of the Neverland, and we have arranged for a memorial ceremony on the plain of Pajmhi. I hope to see each of you there. Before and after that, of course, you’ll be able to enjoy yourselves at all our usual ports of call, and with the Neverland’s onboard activities. Because as my friend at the back of the room noted, while we remember our compatriots, there’s nothing wrong with having fun as well. So for the crew of the Neverland, again, welcome, and enjoy yourselves. Thank you.” He sat at his table to applause. Waiters came out from the sides of the room to begin delivering salads.
“That was well done,” Gracie said.
“Told you he was good,” Leff said.
“How are we going to have a ceremony on the plain of Pajmhi?” Lopez said. “I thought those Nidu planet crackers wiped it off the face of the planet.”
“Yes and no,” Leff said, and leaned back to let the waiter deliver his salad. “The plain is still there. The only difference is now it’s under about one hundred meters of freshly laid rock. That’s from the lava flow after the bomb went off. Our ceremony is going to take place in one of the cooler parts of the rock flow.”
“You mean there are still warm parts?” Crower said.
“Oh, yes,” Leff said. “There’s a volcano built up now where the south part of the plain used to be. It’s still spewing lava. We’re going to be on the north side of the plain.”
“Goddamn Nidu,” Gracie said, and jabbed at his salad.
“Chuck,” Evelyn warned.
“Sorry, sweetie,” Gracie said, then looked around the table. “But you all know what I’m talking about.”
Robin held up her hand. “Hi,” she said. “Actually, I don’t. What do the Nidu have to do with this battle?”
Gracie looked at Robin, chewed thoughtfully on his salad, and then looked over to Creek. “You didn’t tell her anything about it?”
“The relationship is still pretty new,” Creek said.
“We’re still picking up the parcels,” Robin said.
Gracie looked around. “Anyone mind if I give a brief review?” When no one complained, he continued. “The short story is that the planet Chagfun is a Nidu colony, and about twenty years ago, the Chagfun natives started getting uppity. For about six, seven of those years, it was small-scale terrorist stuff—homemade bombs, exploding markets, assassination attempts. Nothing the Nidu can’t handle on their own. But then something happened that made the Nidu sit up: The local Nidu military commanders took the side of the Chagfun natives and took their weapons with them. Which is something that’s absolutely not supposed to happen.”
“Why not?” Robin said.
“It’s because of the Nidu hierarchy,” Leff said, cutting in. “The Nidu are a caste-bound culture, grouped in clans that are incredibly suspicious of each other. The current ruling clan keeps control of everything—and I do mean everything—through a computer network. Every single piece of military and government equipment is tied into the network, right down the rifles the Nidu issue to their infantry. The power structure is top down, so commanding officers have control over every decision that gets made. It goes right up to the top. If the leader of the Nidu wanted, he could make a specific rifle on a battlefield stop working, just by ordering it.”
“What happens if the soldier gets cut off from the network?” Robin asked.
“His rifle stops working,” Leff said. “Or his transport, or his ship, whatever. It’s the way the Nidu hierarchy keeps control.”
“Except that in this case,” Gracie said, stealing back the conversational ball, “somehow the local commanders appeared to disengage themselves from the Nidu network and keep their rifles working. And their ships. So they take them offline and Chagfun declares itself independent. Nidu declares war—”
“—and because Earth signed a mutual defense treaty, we get dragged into it,” Lopez said. “And we end up fighting Nidu’s civil war for them.”
“Not that our Defense Department was complaining,” Crower said.
“No, not at all,” Gracie said. “Defense was looking to show off Earth military readiness. So we do a joint military operation with the Nidu, and because it’s Nidu’s party, they’re in charge of the show. There’s just one problem.”
Robin waited for a minute for Gracie to continue, but he was clearly enjoying his dramatic pause. Finally, Robin said, “Yes? And the problem was what?”
Gracie opened his mouth to speak but Leff got there first. “The problem was that the Chagfun rebels weren’t actually disconnected from the Nidu network. They’d stopped the Nidu leadership from commanding their equipment, but they could still eavesdrop on the network.”
“So they knew every move the Nidu were going to have us make,” Gracie said. He stuffed more salad into his mouth.
“That’s bad,” Robin said.
“It was very bad,” Lopez said. “We landed 100,000 troops on the plain of Pajmhi because Nidu intelligence told us it was an ideal staging area. It was supposed to be away from the main concentrations of rebel troops, with sympathetic civilians in the local towns who wouldn’t cause us any trouble. But the rebels knew we were coming and were ready for us. They hit us while we were still getting organized. There was no way we could mount an effective defense.”
“It was a real clusterfuck,” Gracie said.
“Chuck,” Evelyn Gracie said.
“Your husband’s right, Mrs. Gracie,” Lopez said. “There were 23,000 killed and about that number wounded. When half of your troops are casualties, clusterfuck is the right term for it.”
“Thank you, Lopez,” Gracie said, and pointed to one of the ribbon bars on his uniform with his salad fork. “I got shot at Pajmhi; took a slug in the leg. Damn near tore the leg clean off. I figure I can use the term clusterfuck if I want.”
“So what happened?” Robin said.
“Well, after a couple of Chagfun days, which are, what? Thirty hours long?” Gracie looked over to Leff.
“Thirty-one hours, seven minutes,” Leff said.
“That long,” Gracie said, pointing to Leff. “We managed to get our troops out of there, and told the Nidu to take care of their own damn messes. And t
hey did.”
“They dropped the bomb on Pajmhi,” Crower said. “One of their planet crackers. It’s a bomb that blasts down into the skin of a planet. Weakens the crust and lets the molten rock come through.”
“It’s like making a goddamn volcanic explosion, is what it is,” Gracie said. “The Nidu dropped the bomb smack down into the plain of Pajmhi. Wiped out every living thing for a couple hundred kilometers around, including all those towns and villages.”
“That was before the eruptions blew enough dust into the air to cool down the planet,” Neff said. “Chagfun had its own miniice age that winter. Colonists froze and starved. The Nidu had a blockade of the planet. No one would run it.”
“Why didn’t the CC do anything about it?” Robin asked.
“Internal matter,” Lopez said. “The CC only gets involved if one of its nations attacks another. It stays out of civil wars.”
“So the CC let all those people die,” Robin said.
“Basically,” Lopez said. She forked the last of her salad.
“But it worked,” Gracie said, bringing the conversation around to him again. “The Chagfun rebels surrendered to keep their families from starving and dying anymore. The Nidu swept in and took control and as far as I can recall executed every single rebel fighter. So through incompetence and ruthlessness, the Nidu ended up killing tens of thousands of humans, executing tens of thousands of surrendered combatants, and starving and freezing hundreds of thousands of their own people. And now you know why I say, ‘Goddamn Nidu.’” This time Evelyn Gracie said nothing to her husband. The waiters came to take away the salad bowls.
“But enough of this depressing subject,” Gracie said. He reached into his uniform and pulled out a small camera. “I have a favor to ask. As the duly appointed representative of my regiment on this trip, it has fallen to me to be annoying and take pictures of every little thing to send back for the regiment newsletter. So I hope you won’t mind all crowding together for a quick photo. Evelyn, sweetie, if you wouldn’t mind.” He handed the camera to his wife, who got up from the table to frame the photo. The others at the table crowded around Gracie; Creek and Robin edged themselves away from the group, not at all interested in having themselves photographed.
“Hiroki, Debbie,” Gracie said. “Squeeze in.”
“I don’t have a uniform,” Creek said.
“Hell, man, I was just ribbing you about the uniform,” Gracie said.
“It’s okay. I’ll sit this one out,” Creek said.
Gracie shrugged and looked over to Evelyn, who was framing the picture “Go ahead, honey,” he said.
Evelyn Gracie thought Hiroki and his nice young fiancée were simply being shy, and also a little silly. She pressed a button on the back of the camera to flip the framing choice from Normal to Panoramic, bringing the stubborn couples’ profiles just into frame. She snapped the picture and handed it back to her husband. “Thank you, dear,” he said.
“You said ‘regiment,’” said Crower, to Gracie, as the waiters handed down the main course of vatted prime rib. “Were you in cavalry?”
“Better,” Gracie said “Ranger. 75th Regiment, 2nd Battalion. Fort Benning, Georgia. The 75th has been around since the 1900s, which is a hell of a bit of continuity. I’m not the only member of the 75th here—I know a couple of guys from the 1st and 3rd Battalions are here, too. But they’re making me take all the pictures. You were cavalry, right?”
“3rd Armored, Tiger Squadron, Crazy Horse Troop,” Crower said. “Out of Tennessee.”
“A fine state,” Gracie allowed. “What about you, Lopez?”
“46th Infantry, 146th Forward Support Battalion,” Lopez said. “The Wolf Pack. Michigan.”
“3rd Batallion, 7th Marines,” Leff said. “California. The Cutting Edge.”
“What about you, Hiroki?”
Creek looked up from his food. “12th Infantry. 6th Battalion.”
There was dead silence at the table for several seconds. “Holy Christ, man,” Gracie said, finally.
“Yeah,” Creek said. He sliced off some prime rib and put it in his mouth.
“How many of you got out of there?” Lopez asked.
Creek swallowed. “From 6th Battalion?” Lopez nodded. “Twenty-six.”
“From full battalion strength,” Leff said. “The whole thousand soldiers.”
“That’s right,” Creek said.
“Jesus,” Leff said.
“Yeah,” Creek said.
“I heard one of your guys got the Medal of Honor,” Gracie said. “Held off the rebels for two days and saved his squad.”
“He held off the rebels,” Creek said. “He didn’t get the Medal of Honor.”
“Why the hell not?” Gracie said.
“He didn’t save his entire squad,” Creek said.
“He must have been pissed not to get it,” Crower said.
“He was more upset about not saving the man he lost,” Creek said.
“Did you know the guy?” Lopez asked. “Who was he?”
“Harry Creek,” Creek said. “I knew him.”
“Where is he now?” Lopez asked.
“He became a shepherd,” Creek said.
Gracie laughed. “You’re not serious,” he said.
“Actually, I am,” Creek said.
“And is he any good at it?” Gracie asked.
“I don’t know,” Creek said, and glanced over at Robin. “You’d have to ask the sheep.”
Creek disappeared after dinner; Robin went looking for him after a couple of hours and found him on the Promenade Deck, staring out into space. “Hey,” she said.
Creek turned to look at her and then turned back to look out at the stars. “Sorry about ducking out,” he said. “Dinner dredged up a few things.”
“Were they true?” Robin said. “The things you said about your battalion. About the Medal of Honor.”
Creek nodded. “They’re true. My battalion was right where the Chagfun rebels had massed their main troops. We got hit before we knew what was happening. My squad managed to break out and head for cover but we were ambushed.”
“But you fought them off,” Robin said. “You saved your squad.”
“I saved most of my squad,” Creek said. “My best friend died. He’d gotten excited and went after a squad of rebels, and our squad followed him into an ambush. We fought it back but took heavy casualties. The rest of the 6th was already wiped out or fighting for their lives so we were on our own for two days. At the end of it Brian was dead. I carried his body off the plain, but that’s all I could do for him.”
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Robin said.
“It’s all right,” Creek said. “I just wish I had been able to save him.”
“One of the things I’m learning about you is that you have an overdeveloped sense of personal obligation,” Robin said. “I mean, I like it. It’s kept me alive over the last couple of days. But it makes me worry about you.”
“You’re worried about me,” Creek said.
“Don’t mock me,” Robin warned. “I may be half-sheep but you know I can throw a punch.”
“I’m not mocking you,” Creek said. “I appreciate it. And you’re only twenty percent sheep.”
“Details,” Robin said.
Behind them someone cleared his throat. Creek turned and saw Ned Leff standing there. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said. “I saw you here and I thought I’d come over.”
“We’re just looking at the stars,” Creek said.
“Waiting for the jump?” Leff said. “We’ll be jumping into n-space in a few minutes. It’s usually quite a sight.”
“Now that you mention it, yes,” Creek said. “That’s exactly what we were doing. How can I help you, Ned?”
“I was hoping I could impose on your good will,” Leff said. “You know there’s going to be a memorial ceremony on the Pajmhi plain, and one of the things we’re planning is to have one member of each service arm lay a wreath on a memoria
l we’re bringing. Thing is, the vet we had representing the Army missed the cruise. Got into a crack-up on the way to the spaceport. Wrecked his car and broke a leg. He’s all right, but he had to get his leg fixed before anything else. So we’re down one serviceman. I was hoping I could get you to replace him.”
“Thanks,” Creek said. “But I don’t really—”
Leff held up a hand. “I get the feeling you’re a modest man, and I can understand that,” he said. “But I think it would be especially inspiring for the other vets to see a member of the 6th up there, laying a wreath.”
“I don’t even have my dress uniform,” Creek said. “My luggage got shipped to Bermuda.”
“You let me worry about that,” Leff said. “Just tell me you’ll do it.”
“When is the ceremony?” Creek said.
“We stop at Caledonia Colony tomorrow, and after that Brjnn, and then we do our stop at Chagfun,” Leff said. “So a week from now. More than enough time for you to prepare, if that’s what you’re thinking about.”
“A week would be perfect,” Creek said. A week would be after the time the Nidu coronation ceremony was supposed to go off; Creek had no doubt that by that time Ben Javna would have resumed contact or otherwise tracked him down. Either he and Robin would already be off the Neverland, or he could risk standing at a podium with a wreath.
“Great,” Leff said, and shook Creek’s hand. “When I see you at dinner tomorrow I’ll have more details for you. Until then, have a great night.” He looked down at his watch. “And look at that—we’re done just in time for you to watch the jump. I won’t intrude any further. Enjoy it.” He left.
“He seems pretty excited about the jump,” Robin said, after Leff walked off.
“You’ve never seen one?” Creek said.
“I’ve never been off Earth before,” Robin said. “This is all new to me. Why?”
“Well, just watch and see,” Creek said.
Robin looked out at the stars. “What am I looking for?”
Every star in the sky suddenly twitched and smeared, as if each had been a sphere of iridescent and incandescent paint suddenly pressed into two dimensions by a universally large pane of glass. The light from each flattened sphere swirled with the light of the others, dancing prismatically and producing unexpected streaks of color until the whole sky settled into flat gray that nevertheless seemed to seethe and threaten to erupt with another show of pigment and flash.