The Lotus Eaters

Veselej, soldat, glyadi!

V'yotsya, v'yotsya znam'a polkovoye,

Komandiry vperedi.

Soldaty v put', v put', v put'!

A dlya tebya, rodnaya,

Est' pochta polevaya.

Proshaj! Truba zov'ot,

Soldaty - v pohod!

The Pashtians of Hamilcar's guard and the Volgans had a history of cutting each others' throats. Carrera glanced from singing paratroopers to glaring riflemen and decided, No, probably not today.

Catchy tune, Carrera thought. I'll have to have Samsonov have it translated into Spanish. He also observed that the Volgan troops were not acne faced young conscripts. They looked older, more mature, more confident; professionals, as advertised. As Opposing Forces for the Legion's training center, the Volgans of the company passing by wore the dark, Sachsen-designed tarnung, or camouflage, uniforms. Others wore different uniforms at different times. Samsonov, himself, wore the legionary pixilated tiger stripes in jungle colors. The 22nd was one of only three regiments on Terra Nova with its own costume department, the others being Fernandez's intelligence Tercio and the 14th Cazador Tercio. Not particular tall, the Volgan commander gave the impression of vast solidity and strength, topped by a round head, itself fronted by a face that looked both highly sincere and very intelligent.

Noting Carrera interest in the passing company, Samsonov asked, 'You like singing, Duque?'

Carrera nodded, 'Yes, Ivan, for its own sake and as a weapon of war both.'

'Yes, well, they not that good. Someday you come, hear Regiment's chorus. They are good.'

'I'll do that,' Carrera agreed, while thinking, If I can find time to wipe my ass, anyway. 'As a matter of fact, if the chorus, or even a part of it, is available, I wonder if your lovely wife wouldn't escort Lourdes . . .'

'Excellent idea,' Samsonov agreed, smiling broadly. He said something to his adjutant in their own tongue, causing the adjutant to nod briskly, then turn on his heels and enter the building behind.

He didn't have to say anything to Irena; she understood the English her husband and Carrera shared well enough. She floated off the steps with a grace and fluidity surprising in a woman of her solidity.

As Irena took Lourdes by the arm and began to lead her off, Hamilcar cast a glance at his chief of guards. Protect my mother. At the guard chief's word, a quarter of the twenty guards immediately fell out of their perimeter and formed around Lourdes and Irena.

Carrera watched only for a moment, to make sure Lourdes was comfortable, before turning his attention back to Samsonov and asking, 'By the way, what does the song mean?'

Samsonov stopped and thought for a moment. 'It means . . . 'The march before us with you is long . . . soldier take livelier look . . . regimental banner whips and twists . . . commanders are up front. Soldiers on march'—that chorus—'And for you your own field mail is waiting but . . . Listen? . . . no, Hark!', maybe Hark . . . 'trumpet calls . . . and soldiers march on.' '

'Have one of your people send a copy to Professor Ruiz, would you. Along with some trooper with a good voice to sing it for him.'

'Certainly, Duque,' the Volgan agreed. 'And now, breakfast, yes? Men eat better here than they used to. And we don't have to grow food ourselves. So when they get fat, I have more time available to work fat off. It more than evens out.' Samsonov called something into the headquarters and positioned himself by Carrera's left side.

Carrera walked with head cocked, hands clasped behind his back. 'Tell me about your regiment's capabilities, please. And with no fluff; if you can't do something, I need to know.'

Samsonov shrugged, 'As you wish. We were one of better parachute infantry regiments of former Tsarist Army. You know this. Possibly we are best. Towards end, with your help, we could pay and feed men when rest of division going to scrap heap. Many good men transfer over to us from other regiments in 117th Guards Airborne Division before we leave Rodina. NCOs, Praporschiks—you would say 'warrant officers'—and officers; most have much combat experience. Some older ones fought in Pashtia. Other's on borders during break up of Empire. Most other ranks too. All volunteers. Many long service troops. I am prejudiced, I know, but I think we are better than same number from FSC 39th Airborne Division, maybe not so good as FSC Rangers. . . . Then again, maybe.'

Carrera nodded. 'Pay?' he asked.

'Very good, by Volgan standards. My privates' five hundred and twenty-five Federated States Drachma a month is five or six times as much as mid level manager in Volga now. This part of reason morale is high. Plenty to send home, plenty to have good time here when not on duty.'

'Problems?'

'Still we have no Orthodox chaplain. Many men do not care. More do.'

'I am looking into that. Kuralski has some prospects. He's had a hard time finding one to suit. Thought he had one, but that priest wanted to be made a captain.'

Samsonov did not understand. 'So make captain.'

'No,' Carrera shook his head emphatically. 'I don't generally commission lawyers, doctors, pilots . . . specialists like those can be, should be, warrant officers or enlisted. Only leaders of men get commissioned. No commissioned chaplains unless they go through the same route as other officer candidates. I don't suppose your regiment had a combat experienced Orthodox priest?'