to take their place. You will get combat gear and you will join your troops and you will board the transport at once. We will all be away by midnight.'
The colonel ignored all the complaints and protests and finally lost his temper. He pulled a wicked-looking pistol from his holster and fired a shot up through the roof of the bus. Then pointed the gun at us. The silence was extreme. He had a nasty smile and pointed teeth.
'That is better,' he said, and kept the weapon pointed. 'You are all time-serving cagal-kopfs which means you have wangled and bought soft assignments which will do you no good now. You are in the army and in the army you obey orders.' He fired another shot into the roof as the bus stopped. 'Now, I want volunteers for combat duty. All volunteers step forward.'
We stepped forward in a rush. The lights in the supply depot were burning brightly in the night, clerks waited by the loaded shelves and an officer blocked the doorway.
'Move aside,' our colonel said, keeping a wary eye on us as we emerged from the bus.
'Can't, sir.' the supply officer said. 'I can't issue anything until I have the orders from headquarters. They haven't come through yet …'
'The colonel shot out the light over the depot door then put the hot muzzle of his gun against the supply officer's nose.
'What did you say?' the colonel growled.
'Orders just arrived, sir! Open up in there and issue everything. Quickly!'
And quickly was what it was. We surged through the depot at top speed, grabbing up clothing, boots, barracks bags, belts, everything on the run. The manic colonel seemed to be everywhere now, his gun banging occasionally to keep up the pace. The street behind the building was a hellish scene of officers tearing off their uniforms, discarding them on the ground as they pulled on the green combat fatigues, jamming helmets on heads and everything else into their bags. Staggering forward into the next building where weapons were being issued. But no ammunition I noticed; the colonel was no fool. Stumbling under the weight of my burdens I staggered out into the street and dropped against a wall, adrip with perspiration. Morton dropped next to me.
'Do you have any idea what this is all about?' he gasped.
'A very good idea. The powers that be think they are being spied upon. With good reason since they are. So they have pushed up the date of their invasion before details of their plans can be discovered.'
'What will happen to us?'
'We invade. At least we will go out as officers. Which means that we can stay to the rear and order the troops forward in case of any enemy resistance…'
'Open your barracks bag,' the moth said into my ear.
'What are you saying?'
There was a sharp burning sensation in my earlobe as the moth discharged its batteries into my skin.
'Open… bag!' it gasped and dropped off, batteries drained and dead.
I bent and opened the bag, wondering if something had been planted there. There was a whistle and the stink of let fuel as the bird plummeted past me into the bag.
'I'm not smuggling this damn bird and getting caught and shot!' I shouted.
'You must do it for the sake of all mankind,' the bird said, eyes glowing wildly. 'Reactivate by pressing the bil twice. Out.'
The glow died and it went limp. I jammed the bag shut as footsteps approached.
'Into the transport!' the colonel ordered. 'We are on our way!'
Chapter 14
There was very little time to sit around and relax. As fast as the officers were spewed out of the supply depot, staggering under the weight of all their combat gear, trucks appeared to carry them away into the night. Groaning and complaining, with the rest of the groaners and complainers, Morton and I heaved our bags and weapons over the tailgate of a truck and clambered after. When it was filled to capacity, and slightly more, we lurched away.
'And to shink that I just reenlishted. Voluntarily,' an officer expostulated leaning heavily against me. There was a gurgling sound from an upended bottle.
'Share the wealth, share the wealth,' I muttered as I pried the bottle from his shaking grasp. It was pretty foul stuff, but was rich with alcohol.
'You still don't drink?' I gasped at Morton, holding up the rapidly emptying bottle.
'I'm learning fast,' He gulped then coughed, then gulped again before relinquishing the bottle to its original owner.
A deep rumble washed over us and we had to close our eyes against the glare as a spacer took off. The invasion was on. We swayed into each other as the truck squealed to a halt and a now familiar and loathsome voice ordered us out. Our nemesis, the pressgang colonel, was waiting for us. He was backed up now by a radio operator and a gaggle of noncoms. Behind him companies, battalions of soldiers, were marching in good order to the waiting transports.
'Now hear this,' the colonel bellowed. 'Those are good troops back there, and they need good officers. Unhappily all I have for them are you fat-bottomed desk types, the dregs of the base. So I'm going to split you up, one to every company, in the hopes that you will maybe get some experience before you get dead.'
This was not good. I had promised Morton I would look after him. Which I could not do if we were in different companies. I sighed. I would have to break the first rule of military survival. Although it violated the primary army axiom - keep your mouth shut and don't volunteer - I volunteered. Stepping forward smartly and slamming my bootheels down as I snapped to attention.
'Sir! My bottom is lean, my gut is flat, I have field experience. I fire sharpshooter, I instruct unarmed combat.'
'And I don't believe you!' he roared into my face.
I threw him onto the ground, put my foot on his back, took away his gun, shot out one of the streetlights, helped him to his feet and handed back his weapon. His fierce glare melted almost to a smile as he wiped pebbles from his uniform.
'I could use a few more like you. You get a combat company. Name?'
'Drem. I respectflilly request Lieutenant Hesk here as exec. He is young and dumb but I have been training him.'
'You got him. Move out. Any more volunteers?' I grabbed up my bags before he could change his mind and hurried off toward the transports with Morton stumbling behind.
'I thought that I was going to die when you knocked him down,' he gasped. 'You took some chance.'
'Just being alive in the modern world is taking a chance,' I pontificated, 'what with all the carcinogens and traffic accidents. And I think we can stop and put the bags down. Help has arrived.'
An eager-looking sergeant, with a bald head, large moustache and two privates, came trotting up and I returned his salute.
'I am Acting First Sergeant Blogh. If you are Captain Drem you are the new CO.' the sergeant said.
'Right both times, sergeant. Get those men on these bags and let's go.'
'Last of the company boarding now. We blast off in ten minutes.
'We can make it. Let's move.'
The loading ramp vanished from behind our heels and the outer lock began to grind shut. We had to climb over boxes of equipment bolted to the deck to reach the stairs. Two flights up was the company, sprawled from wall to wall on their G pads. We dived for ours and were just horizontal when the red lights began flashing and the engines came to life.
As takeoffs go, it went. They poured on a lot more G's than a commercial transport would, but that is what the army is all about. When the acceleration dropped to one-G I stood and waved the sergeant over. 'Canteens full?'
'Yes, sir.'
