I have come to say goodbye, Dolly Gray,
It's no use to ask me why, Dolly Gray,
There's a murmur in the air, you can hear it everywhere,
It's the time to do and dare, Dolly Gray.
The British had appropriated the song for their own use during their war with the Boers in South Africa. But now the Americans had taken it back again and it had gained new popularity.
So if you hear the sound of feet, Dolly Gray,
Sounding through the village street, Dolly Gray,
It's the tramp of soldiers true, in their uniforms so blue,
I must say goodbye to you, Dolly Gray.
Andrew, McGill, and Kennedy boarded their own train, but they could still hear the troops singing:
Goodbye, Dolly, I must leave you, though it breaks my heart to go,
Something tells me I am needed at the front to fight the foe,
See - the boys in blue are marching and I can no longer stay,
Hark - I hear the bugle calling, goodbye, Dolly Gray!
* * * * *
January, 1910, Washington, D.C.
The President’s New Year’s gala was very subdued this year. The weather was terrible and only a few thousand people braved it to line up and have their hands shaken by Theodore Roosevelt. They had come and gone before the afternoon was half over. The foreign diplomats had not lingered much longer, and Roosevelt was free to retire to the family quarters for dinner much earlier than most years. In an unusual move, he had invited Leonard Wood to join him. Since his wife, Louise, was visiting relatives, he had accepted.
The usually jovial Roosevelt, indeed, the whole Roosevelt clan, seemed more somber than usual today. The two oldest boys, Ted and Kermit, were both missing from the gathering. Ted had gone off to join the 26th Infantry and Kermit’s artillery battalion was already on its way west. Ted’s position as his father’s military aide had been taken by a tall, personable captain with the unfortunate name of Archie Butt.
Dinner had been consumed and Wood found himself sitting near Roosevelt, staring at the roaring fireplace. They’d been sitting there for quite a while before the President broke his unusual silence. “So, Leonard, what do you think the new year will bring? Are we finally going to start driving those devils back? We’ve poured so much into this already, the people have made so many sacrifices. They deserve a victory.”
Wood paused for a while before answering. “I don’t know, Theodore. By spring we will have moved a huge number of men and equipment west; far more than Funston had when he launched his attack. And we’ll be preparing to move on multiple fronts. Evidence suggests that the force that counterattacked Funston came down from the batch which landed in Idaho. If we can attack on that front and in New Mexico, they won’t be able to help each other. Of course, they’ve been reinforced by the new landings, but still, I’m hoping for the best.” He paused and looked at his old friend.
“But I’m afraid that you and I were spoiled by the Spanish War. That ‘Splendid Little War’ was over before it had barely begun. Three months from start to finish. We’ve been at this one in earnest for a little over a year and I don’t see it ending any time soon. Consider the Civil War: the first year was mostly spent getting ready, along with a few missteps, and it wasn’t until well into the second year that big things started happening.”
“And it took four years to finish it,” nodded Roosevelt. “Do you think it will take us that long?”
“We might be able to finish it here in America in four years—if we are lucky. But consider how much of the world is in the Martians’ hands already. It might take us decades to be rid of them entirely.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s…”
“Father! That means I’ll get a chance to fight!” The sudden shout from behind them made both men jump. Wood looked around the back of his chair and there was Roosevelt’s youngest son, Quentin, sitting on the floor, with a huge grin on his face. The boy had just turned twelve and Wood knew he was as eager as—well, as eager as his father had been - to get into the war. “Will I get a chance to fight? Mother says it will all be over before I have the chance, but if it goes on for decades - that’s ten years, right?—I’ll surely be old enough!”
The elder Roosevelt reached back and pulled the lad forward. “Eavesdropping, eh? That’s not polite, you know.”
“But you and General Wood were sitting here talking! It’s not my fault I could hear you!”
“No, I suppose it wasn’t.”
“But is it true the war could go on for years and years and I’ll have a chance to fight?”
“Well, maybe, but no one can know that, can they? Let’s keep that our secret, eh? A real military secret! If you’re going to be in the army you need to be able to keep a secret! Can you keep it a secret? Even from your mother?”
“From Mother, too?”
“Wouldn’t want to worry her, now, would we? She worries about your brothers, you know. Let’s keep it a secret, eh?”
“All right, Father, I shall!”
“Bully! Good for you! Now go and play with your Christmas gifts, while I have a chat with the general!” The boy got up, a sly smile on his face, and ran off. Wood wondered how long that particular secret would remain one.
Roosevelt was looking thoughtful. “I suppose the blasted thing could go on for ten or twenty years, couldn’t it, Leonard?”
“It could, I’m afraid.”
“Then maybe we really should keep that a secret.”
* * * * *
January, 1910, St. Louis, Missouri
“Taking near as long to get there as it did last time, sir. Even without the bleedin’ tanks draggin’ along behind,” said Sergeant McGill.
“At least we’re warm and dry while we wait, Sergeant,” replied Andrew. “Could be worse.”
“Aye, sir, a lot worse, and that’s the truth!”
They were sitting on a bench in the very crowded and rather palatial Union Station in St. Louis, waiting for their train to get clearance to move. Between some very bad weather and the army’s massive redeployment to the west, train service was a frightful mess. It had taken them almost two weeks just to get here and by all indications it might take another two weeks to get to Santa Fe. They’d slept several nights on the train and several more in stations along the way. The rest of the time they’d managed to find a hotel when they knew the train was going to be delayed long enough not to leave without them. Andrew wasn’t sure what it would be tonight.
“I’m going to get a drink, Sergeant, hold on to our spot here,” he said suddenly, getting up.
“Yes, sir,” said McGill.
“I’ll bring back something for you and the corporal.”
McGill’s face brightened. “Very good, sir!”
He made his way through the crowd to the station’s bar. This was even more crowded, but he eventually made it to the front and bought a bottle of whiskey. He took it and a glass, thinking to head back to the bench, but then he spotted a table which had just opened up and he took a seat before anyone else could grab it. McGill was a fine fellow, but just now he wanted to be away from him for a while. He opened the bottle and poured himself a glass. It wasn’t the best whiskey he’d ever had, but it wasn’t bad, and felt soothing after the days of frustration. He’d drink a glass or two and take the rest back for McGill and Kennedy.
“Excuse me, Major, is this seat taken?”
He looked up and saw a tall, solid-looking second lieutenant standing in front of him and pointing to the empty chair opposite him.
“No, help yourself, Lieutenant.” The man sat down, draping his greatcoat over the chair back. He was a good-looking fellow, with a long straight nose and sharp eyes. Looking closer, Andrew noted that his uniform wasn’t standard issue, it had been privately tailored and fit the man perfectly. He clearly had some money besides his army pay. Then he noticed the Tank Corps collar disk.
“On your way to the front, Lieutenant…?”
“Patton
, George Patton, sir. And yes, I’m to join the 326th Tank Battalion. They’re assembling near Kansas City.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Comstock.” He offered his hand and Patton took it in a very firm grip.
“Ordnance Department?”
“Yes, I’m heading to Santa Fe to observe some new equipment—including the tanks. How did you happen to end up with them?”
“Well, sir, I just graduated from the Point last spring and it seems like they’re the wave of the future. I applied and was accepted. Just finished my training at the camp in Gettysburg.”
Andrew looked closer. Patton seemed a bit old to be a freshly graduated cadet, but perhaps not. “Well, at least they have their own branch now. The last time I was at Camp Colt, the cavalry and the artillery were fighting over who would control them.”
“Yes, and they both lost, didn’t they?” Patton grinned.
“I guess so. Drink? Sorry, I don’t have another glass.”
“Thank you, sir,” Patton took the bottle and drank from it.
Just then Corporal Kennedy ran up. “Major? They just announced our train will be moving in ten minutes. Better get going, sir.”
“Right,” he stood up, stoppered the bottle, and handed it to Kennedy. “Give that to the Sergeant. Lieutenant? Nice meeting you. Good luck with your unit.”
“Thank you, sir. Good luck to you, too.”
* * * * *
Cycle 597,844.0, Holdfast 32-1
Qetjnegartis watched as the excavator dumped its load into the processor. The crushed rock and soil was sucked inside to the separator and smelter. The crust of the target world held a higher percentage of the useful elements than did that of the Homeworld. Still, the total amount was generally small. Until a more thorough survey could be done to locate denser deposits, they would have to be satisfied with what could be extracted from digging locally. Fortunately, Element 22, which was used in large amounts, was proving quite abundant. And Element 26 was available in huge quantities from the metals salvaged from the prey creatures and could be substituted for Element 22 in many applications. Elements 42 and 79 were proving scarce so far, but other clans had reported finding significant amounts of the latter among the prey-creatures. The power elements, 90 and 92, had only been found in a few locations, but the Race was well supplied with that until local deposits could be located.
An ingot of metal emerged from the processor and another machine transported it to one of the construction machines. Qetjnegartis followed along in its travel chair to the main manufacturing chamber. Here, dozens of the newcomers were at work, guiding the machines. The five transport vessels had not been able to carry much equipment in addition to the passengers, but each carried a constructor machine and now those five and the other four were working continuously to produce the fighting machines the clan needed. Not just the machines for the fifty newcomers, but for the forty-six buds which had recently been detached. In less than a quarter cycle they would have over a hundred fighting machines ready for action.
One of them here was almost complete. It was a new design, brought from the Homeworld. It was slightly smaller than the standard model. It had a weaker heat ray and thinner armor, but it was considerably faster. No longer would those beast-mounted prey be able to outrun them.
Qetjnegartis’ body was maturing rapidly. Soon it would be fully functional. The plentiful food supply was letting all the buds grow more quickly than usual. Those of the first group were nearly adults now and able to contribute in almost every way. Another quarter cycle and they could begin producing buds of their own. Yes, the holdfast was secure and the clan was strong.
Not as strong as some, though. The Mavnaltak Clan to the north was not only stronger but now had three holdfasts securing their large holdings. Valprandar was determined that once offensive operations were permitted again that the Bajantus Clan should create new holdfasts as well. It was a logical move to control such vast areas.
“Qetjnegartis, report to the command center at once.” The order came over the communicator in its travel chair and it acknowledged immediately. It moved through the corridors, noting that the freezing temperatures had put an end to the leaks which had been such a nuisance. No doubt they would return when this hemisphere’s spring came, unless some permanent solution could be found.
As expected, it found Valprandar waiting for it in the command center. “Yes, Commander? You wished to see me?”
“Yes, Qetjnegartis. New orders have come from the Conclave. We are to resume our attacks against the prey-creatures.”
“So soon? We have fighting machines for only half our…”
“Large scale attacks are still not permitted. But it has been observed by other clans, elsewhere on the planet, that fast-moving raids, deep into the enemy’s territory, can produce great disruption of their operations. In particular, destruction of their transportation system can cripple their ability to resist. We are ordered to begin such operations here very soon.”
“This sounds like a wise course of action, Commander.”
“It is good that you approve, Qetjnegartis. For you will be leading a major part of our forces.”
“Indeed, Commander?” Its tendrils twitched at this unexpected news.
“You appear surprised, Qetjnegartis. Why?”
“The fact that you were sent to take command indicated that the clan elders were not pleased with my performance here. I did not expect to be given further responsibilities.”
“This is true,” said Valprandar. “And I was given authority to terminate you if I thought it necessary. After being here, observing the situation, and conferring with the other survivors I determined that while you did make errors, your judgment is not completely flawed. It would be an error on my part to not make use of your experience and abilities.
“Therefore, in ten days you will depart with a force of fifteen war machines. You will travel northeast and once through the mountains you will split into five groups of three.”
“Commander that will take us very close to the border with the Mavnaltak Clan.”
Qetjnegartis could sense the amusement in Valprandar’s reply. “Yes it will, won’t it? Another similar group will be sent to the south. So far there have been no prey-creature forces contacted to the west, so we will only send a small scouting force in that direction. I and the rest will remain here and complete work on the holdfast and continue construction of more war machines. Your mission is to destroy everything you encounter, but you will not put your forces at risk. Understood?”
“I understand, Commander. We will destroy everything.”
Chapter Twelve
January, 1910, Santa Fe, New Mexico Territory
Rebecca Harding tsk-tsked over the soldier’s frostbitten fingers. “You need to take better care of yourself, soldier. You’re probably going to lose some skin from the tips, but you were lucky this time. Make sure you wear your gloves!”
“Was wearin’ gloves, miss! Just mighty darn cold out there!”
“Yeah, I can’t argue with that. Still, try to be careful, keep your hands in your pockets as much as you can.”
“Hard to do that when you’re standin’ guard duty and carryin’ a rifle!”
“Got an answer for everything, don’t ya?” said Becca, smiling. “Well, be as careful as you can. You can go back to your unit now.”
“That’s all? Don’t I get no medicinal spirits or anything? The boys said they gave that out here!” The man looked indignant.
“Oh! So that’s why you’re here! Sorry, soldier, we only give out spirits for frostbite if bits of you are falling off. Move along.” She smiled so he’d know it was a joke.
“Uh, how big a bit?”
“Git!” She swatted the man and laughed. He grinned back at her and went out, letting in a blast of icy air before the door was shut. But at least they had doors now. The tents had all been replaced by wooden huts with sheet metal roofs. There were big iron stoves in every building and it wasn’t too bad
most of the time.
The Martians seemed to have gone into ‘winter quarters’, too. There’d been no sign of them for several months and the only casualties they’d had to treat had been the usual sort any army in winter had to deal with. There were still quite a few men in the wards, but it was a lot different from when combat was going on.
Becca finished her shift and went to the mess hall. It was a while until the next meal, but it was where everyone came to socialize. She exchanged greeting with some of her friends and got a cup of coffee and sat down. She chatted with a few people, but then there was a commotion by the door and a number of people cheered when it turned out to be an orderly with the mail. Eager people clustered around the man as he handed things out. Becca didn’t go over because she never got any mail from anyone. Well, every now and then she’d get something from Frank Dolfen, but the man was terrible at writing letters and she didn’t expect anything.
So she was surprised when the orderly called her name. Maybe Frank had written to her! She jumped up and went over and took the envelope. It had her name on it on careful block letters, but no return address. What was this? She tore open the envelope and extracted the paper inside. Her eyes grew wide.
Dear Miss Harding,
I have received your letter and I wish to inform you that I am in Santa Fe. I would very much like to talk with your friend. I will accede to whatever conditions he might demand and will make no attempt to identify him or remove him against his will. Please arrange a meeting. You can contact me at the address given below.
Your Obedient Servant,
Major Andrew Comstock
She looked around, but Sam wasn’t in the mess hall. Would he really agree to a meeting? She’d practically had to twist his arm just to get permission to send that letter to the major. He probably didn’t think he’d ever reply. Well, Becca hadn’t really, either. But he had and he was here! So what should she do? She couldn’t just walk up to him and say that the major was here, Sam might bolt.
Breakthrough Page 23
