Kuralski nodded. 'And you would be Terry?'
'Yes, Terry Johnson. Pleased to meet you.'
The two men shook their introductions. Kuralski gestured toward the door and the parking lot beyond. 'Come on. We can use my car.'
Both men were graduates of the Federated States Military Academy at River Watch, though of different classes. They didn't know each other. They did tend to know a number of the same people, though. During the drive they traded information on mutual friends and acquaintances just as Hennessey and Johnson had done a few days before. The fact that their classes were three years apart and they had never served in the same location limited their conversation. They drove in silence a while before Kuralski asked, 'Where do you know Pat from?'
'He was my Company XO when I was a platoon leader in Balboa. And you?'
Kuralski smiled at a half-forgotten memory. 'We've never actually served in the same unit. The way the school schedule worked out we always seemed to end up going to school together. The Basic Course at Fort Henry was where we first met.' Dan laughed aloud.
At Terry's quizzical look he elaborated, 'My first acquaintance with our friend Pat was when he chewed me out for not keeping my foot in the same fixed position and my mouth shut while standing at ease. You would have thought that in four years at the academy someone would have taught me the proper position for standing at ease. I thought they had. We argued about it, which amused everyone but Pat and myself. Finally he just told me to shut up and do what I was told. It was kind of funny, one shavetail chewing out another. I was more shocked than anything, shocked enough to shut up anyway. You know: rank among lieutenants, virtue among whores? After he fell the formation out I went up to complain. He told me to go look it up. I did. Unfortunately for my self-esteem, he was right. That, and a few other occasions where other people doubted him, convinced me that when he insists something is right; it's right… or he wouldn't have insisted.'
Johnson chuckled. 'That sounds like him; he's an anal bastard, all right. Where else did you go to school together?'
'Ranger School. The Advanced Course at Fort Henry again. Then the Combined Arms Center for the short course.'
Johnson said, 'You know, Pat taught me a lot about being a combat leader. When he was XO he used to just dog all the platoon leaders out trying to teach us everything from the proper employment of barbed wire obstacles to how to conduct a raid to understanding, and, more importantly, ignoring when required, the principles of war.'
Kuralski agreed, 'Oh, he's good. At least as near as you can tell from peacetime operations.'
'Wartime, too,' Johnson answered. Seeing the look on Kuralski's face he half-explained, 'Oh, you didn't know about him taking leave from Balboa to go to San Vicente with a Vicentinian pal of his to fight the Arenistas? Big stink, that one. And then, because he knew the country, his mech infantry company from Fort Leonidas was tapped to deploy to Balboa for the invasion. I understand they did quite well.'
'I didn't know about those,' Kuralski answered.
'He can be pretty closemouthed about such things,' Johnson agreed.
Abruptly turning off the road they were on, Kuralski pulled into his driveway. Johnson followed him into the split-level house that stood next to that driveway. Once inside Terry noticed a number of pictures of a woman. Crap. A married man might not go.
Kuralski motioned for Johnson to take a seat in the living room. Johnson placed a briefcase on the couch beside him and took out an envelope. He handed the envelope to Kuralski.
Kuralski opened the envelope, took out the letter inside, and began to read:
2/8/459 Dear Dan:
The bearer of this letter, Terrence Johnson, is representing me. He is well known to me, trustworthy and loyal. You may speak with him as if you were speaking to me. I am writing to offer you a job, working for me, as a military planner and consultant. The job will be performed in another country. You do not need to know at this time which country. Suffice to say that it is a pleasant, hot and wet but otherwise comfortable place, with a large city and an active nightlife. Do not expect, if you accept this offer, to have overmuch time to enjoy the nightlife. Your particular job will be as chief of a small staff I am assembling. You will be second in rank after myself. The pay is initially 4,800 FSD per month, plus room and board. All of that amount is tax free. Life and medical insurance will be provided. Terry will arrange transportation. You may assume that nothing I will ask of you is illegal, likely to be of interest to the Federated States in the near term, or harmful to the Federated States in any way in any term. If you decide to join up, let Terry know immediately. I would give you time to decide if I could. I can't. I must ask you not to repeat any of this. Terry will collect this letter, and your decision, now. I hope you will join me. It's not like I couldn't find someone else to do the job, but I really want it to be you.
Sincerely, Patrick Hennessey
Kuralski felt a small flush of warmth at that last sentence. He looked up from the letter, toward Johnson. 'He doesn't allow much time to decide, does he?'
Johnson answered, 'If you think about it, if someone needs a long time to decide something like this, then he probably doesn't need to go. Have you decided?'
Kuralski looked around at the interior of his house. Fading memories, painful ones as often as not. There was nothing there to hold him. 'I'll go. Can I have a few days to get my house on the market?'
'You can take fourteen days from today. I'll send you tickets as soon as I finish making arrangements. You'll have to take care of your own passport, if you don't have one.' Johnson offered his hand a second time. 'For Pat, let me say 'Welcome Aboard.' Ah, what about your wife?' he asked, pointing at a picture.
'Dead. Cancer. It's why I'm not in the army anymore. I had to take care of her and so I missed my chance to command a company. No command; no chance.'
'Oh. Sorry. Pat didn't know.'
'Thanks. No reason he or you should have. Anyway, it would be worth the trip just to see Linda.'
'She's dead, too. Pat said it was on seven-one-one in ^ the TNTO.'
Kuralski bowed his head and began to fight back tears.
'You loved her too, didn't you?' Johnson asked.
Kuralski just nodded and said, 'Yeah… yeah, I did. But, then, who didn't? What a woman.'
Johnson smiled grimly. 'I know. And pity the poor bastards who murdered the family of Pat Hennessey.'
Interlude
31 December, 2049, Brussels, Belgium, European Union
Margot Tebaf's chauffeured limousine passed row upon row of empty, boarded-up shops and unmaintained apartment buildings. It seems like only yesterday, she thought, when those shops were open and vibrant, when there were flower boxes at the windows of the apartments, when the streets were clear. Has it been thirty years?
The driver cursed as one of the front tires slipped into a pothole. Nobody was maintaining the cobblestones anymore. He muttered something unintelligible but ugly sounding as he maneuvered around a pile of uncollected trash, then cut the wheel hard to avoid the charred and rusted ruins of a burned and ancient automobile, parked-if that was the word-so as to jut out into the street and make passage for those still able to afford private transportation more difficult.
Perhaps it was an ambush point; the city's crime rate was so high now that the police hardly bothered taking reports. Outside of the neighborhoods dominated by the European Union's bureaucracy, they didn't bother with enforcing the law even when it was violated before their eyes.
Margot's gaze avoided the street-too ugly-and looked instead at the little towers above, each ringed with green neon lights.
To a viewer of even twenty years before, the streets would have appeared remarkably clear of motor traffic. Instead young, unemployed men wandered aimlessly, followed often enough by black-clad women trailing masses of children. The men glared at the passing limo. Margot might have feared attack except that her auto was armored. It was also preceded and trailed by armed police escort vehicles.
The one-way glass of the limousine's windows allowed Margot to see out without anyone seeing in. Thus, no one saw her shiver when she considered what things might be like if Europe were a democracy in anything but name and merest appearances.
Thank the god that doesn't exist that my ancestors were wise enough to destroy democracy before we had a
