by Eric Flint
Chip rubbed the stubble on his chin. "So when I come back to my unit like a good little soldier… The colonel craps me out for not having shaved and puts me in the brig, because I'm dead." He shook his head at the corporal. "And you tell me it's no laughing matter. Well, if I didn't laugh, I'd have to cry. And I'm too happy to be alive to cry."
The colonel's clerk looked at Chip as if actually seeing him for the first time. "You're either completely crazy… or you're not joking." She turned to the sergeant who was in charge of the cells. "What do you think, Ngui?"
The sergeant scratched his chin. "Well. Like you say, he's either crazy or telling the truth. I'd say crazy-if it wasn't for the fact that it's been on the news last night. The scorpiary being captured. Shaw's daughter being rescued. Only they said it was some Special Services commando that did it."
Chip's shoulders shook. "Commandos, my ass. We told them we were just a bunch of grunts in the wrong place at the right time. The reporters wouldn't believe us. That's all there was to it, Sarge. The Maggots didn't know how the hell to deal with us, once we were inside their nest. We got lucky, and we got out alive. And now I've come back."
The both stared at him. Finally the corporal spoke. "But… did they just send you here without any travel instructions?" The colonel's clerk plainly lived by paperwork. It was obviously hard for her to accept that anything could be true without it.
"Who's 'they,' to write it in the first place?" asked Chip, shrugging. "Lieutenant Rosetski isn't writing anything without an Ouija board. He died the first hour of the Magh' assault. And the next officer I saw was Major Van Klomp. He was told by some major general at HQ to send Ginny Shaw back at once with an armed escort. Ginny told him that she wanted us for an escort. So he radioed the general and said he was sending her back with us."
Chip had to grin at the memory. Van Klomp had described the rats and bats as "the toughest commando group in the HAR army. Really special Special Services soldiers." Which, as Van Klomp had said afterwards, was a fine description so long as the major general didn't actually see them.
"Major Van Klomp organized an escort back to line three," he continued, "and a driver and transport to take us to divisional headquarters. Weather was really down and the choppers couldn't fly."
"But… didn't he get his clerk to cut you any orders?" demanded the colonel's clerk.
Chip looked pityingly at her. She was a slight young woman with a pale face, and she walked with a pronounced limp. He would wager a guess that she was probably stationed in the camp because she was medically unfit for combat duty. That was hardly her fault, even if a lot of women would like to swap places with her. She obviously knew very little about front-line conditions. "Things were kind of confused, Corp. There were a lot of Maggots still around, and not one hell of a lot of paper. We had an escort from the major with us back through to the vehicle. There was supposed to be an escort waiting there for us, but it got delayed, and we didn't wait."
She thrust her head forward inquisitorially. "Then how did you get back here from division headquarters?"
"I asked some brigadier… Charlesworth. Yeah, that was his name, where we should go now. He was kind of taken up with fawning over Ginny and was in a flap because somebody had locked him up in his own headquarters. You can't believe the chaos there. I thought the captured scorpiary was a mess, but that camp was more like a disturbed ants' nest than a camp. He said we should get to our units as soon as possible. I asked around and they told me that the remains of my unit were sent back to Camp Marmian. I tried the transport officer. He didn't know or care who some grubby Vat was, but he told me that I could go on next Vat redeployment trucks in a week or two, if I could find space. Or make my own plan. He said much the same but worse about the rats and bats. He was too busy trying to please explain why they'd cooperated with Major Fitzhugh and would I bugger off. So I did. I cadged a lift with one of the trucks transporting the captured Magh' stuff back to the university research unit. Got the driver to drop me at the turn-off and walked to the gates. Made the guard commander take me to the colonel and told him I was reporting for duty. He told me I needed a shave and threw me in the brig."
The corporal looked at the sergeant. Looked at Chip. Then back at the sergeant.
The sergeant reached for his keys. "Nobody could actually make up such a stupid story, Corporal. Nobody, but nobody, is quite that dumb. So he's probably telling the truth, you know."
The corporal put her hands around her head. "What a mess. I'm sorry, Private."
"What are you doing?" demanded Chip, as the sergeant began unlocking the cell.
"Letting you out," said the sergeant tersely. "It's not procedure, but I'm damned if I'm going leave you in the cells for a minute longer. I was a front-line soldier myself, before I was invalided out, and this isn't right. We'll go and explain to the colonel now."
Chip reached through the bars and caught his hand. "Oh no you don't, Sarge. I'm staying right here. I'm happy here." He grinned. "I'm dead. Dead people need lots of rest. You guys just leave it, and me, alone."
"I think he is crazy," said the corporal, warily.
"Nope, Corp. Well, not more than most of the front-line troops, hey Sarge," said Chip cheerfully. "But if I go out there, ten to one the bastards will have me doing drill. Or your colonel, who sounds like a real champion at handling things well, will post me back to the front. Now. I don't like drill. I sure as hell don't need to get back to the front in a hurry. Here I can sleep, and the sarge'll see I get three squares a day. I'll probably even get a shower and a quiet mooch in the exercise yard. Carrying rocks and the other delights of Detention Barracks don't start until you've been court-martialed and sentenced, do they?"
"Uh. No."
"If you get me out of here, do you see your colonel giving me a week's pass?" asked Chip.
"Uh." The corporal shook her head. "To be honest, no. The colonel will probably feel you made a fool of him, and he's a vindictive son-of-a-bitch."
"Yeah. That's about what I figured," said Chip. "I also reckon I owe him the chance to make a proper fool of himself. So, have I actually done anything wrong? I mean, when they get to the court-martial can they actually do anything to me?"
"You got witnesses for the brigadier giving you the order?" asked the sergeant.
Chip started to giggle. "I got one better. The guys who were filming Ginny filmed that bit. One of them came and tried to interview me, afterwards. Thinking about it now, I reckon Charlesworth hadn't figured out that we were the bunch that had rescued her. He thought we were just part of the escort. He told me to tell my platoon sergeant to give me a demerit for my uniform and not having shaved. Got maybe fifty witnesses. About half of them civilians-Shareholders, no less."
"So long as we can find some of those people, it should be open and shut. You were given a legitimate order from the senior ranking officer, and you obeyed it."
Chip shrugged. "Piece of cake. Tim Fuentes, INB. There were the rest of the bats and rats too. You should have seen that brigadier's face when Ginny said we must come along."
"Well, rat testimony has been used in a few cases," said the sergeant. "So that's got precedent. And tracking down this INB guy should be easy."
The corporal nodded, serious faced, just the edge of an unpracticed dimple in her cheek showing. "And you reported for duty to the colonel. He accused you of going AWOL…"
"He's a prat. It should have been desertion under fire," interrupted the sergeant. "AWOL is for back here, out of the combat zone."
"AWOL," continued the corporal smoothly. "You told him exactly where you'd been. I heard every word. He decided to throw you in the brig." She smiled, transforming her face. "We'll get you a shave, shower, clean uniform and a defense attorney from the JAG's office. You're entitled to that, even for a regimental court-martial, which is what you're up for. You just tell your story with a nice straight face and you should actually get a public crow-eating, and, if you play your cards right you'll probably get some leav
e, too. They owe you."
"The Army owes you," said the sergeant, heavily. "But, speaking as someone who has been through the system, it doesn't usually pay, Corporal. It collects. Look, son. I still reckon we should go and talk to the colonel. But it's up to you. You do it the way you want to. You can stay in my cells just as long as you like. But anytime you change your mind I'll take you up to the colonel. Should take 'em a while to get to the court-martial. They might even work out what is going on and come looking for you before that."
Chip yawned. "They might. And it's fine if they do. But I reckon this lot couldn't find their own ass without both hands. And I haven't slept on a mattress for a long time," he said, longingly.
The corporal looked at the inch-thick strip of gray foam. "Uh. Sergeant. Couldn't he get a better one?"
Chip yawned again. "Don't bother, Sarge. It's not mud, it's not rocks, and it's probably going to stay dry. Sounds great to me."
Chip heard them talk as they walked away, and he snuggled down on the mattress and pulled the thin gray blanket over him. Just snatches…
"Combat veteran all right…"
"Pictures in the newscast. I thought the face looked familiar…"
"It's not right…"
"Post traumatic stress…"
"What he wants, Corporal."
They weren't quite right. What he really wanted was Virginia. Well. Maybe he wanted to sleep first. He was too screwed up about the way she'd turned her back on him to feel up to handling the question of Ginny right now. But a veteran learns to sleep when he can. And where he can.
Eric Flint
The Rats, the Bats amp; the Ugly
Chapter 13
Eric Flint
The Rats, the Bats amp; the Ugly
Ward 11 (officers, male), First Military Hospital,
George Bernard Shaw City.
Fitz made the trip back from the front in an ATV army ambulance. It gave him more insight into why it was best to drug patients. He was accompanied by Lieutenant Pringle, and two other MPs. Once through the front lines an MP escort joined them. Fitz would be going to the military hospital for examination, and thence, if pronounced fit enough, to the hospital wing of the military prison, and thence to trial. Having been in a great hurry to field court-martial and summarily execute him, it now appeared that they were in no hurry to send him for trial. Fitz was. He was sharing his stretcher with Ariel, and taking her into a military prison could tax his ingenuity.
***
CHARGE I, Violation of the Military Code, Article 90 (Assault on a Commissioned Officer)
SPECIFICATION: In that Major Conrad Fitzhugh, Military Intelligence, Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, did, in time of war, strike Brigadier General Winchester Charlesworth, his superior commissioned officer, then known by Major Conrad Fitzhugh to be his superior officer who was then in the execution of his office, in the stomach with a bangstick with intent to cause severe or deadly injury.
CHARGE II, Violation of the Military Code, Article 94 (Mutiny)
SPECIFICATION: In that Major Conrad Fitzhugh, Military Intelligence, Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, with intent to usurp and override lawful military authority, did seize command of the Fourth Division, Army of Harmony and Reason and unlawfully direct its operations with intent to lead their destruction.
CHARGE III, Violation of the Military Code, Article 95 (Flight from Arrest)
SPECIFICATION: In that Major Conrad Fitzhugh, Military Intelligence, Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, did flee apprehension by Military Police.
CHARGE IV, Violation of the Military Code, Article 104 (Aiding the Enemy)
SPECIFICATION 1: In that Major Conrad Fitzhugh, Military Intelligence, Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, did, without proper authority, knowingly attempt to aid the enemy by attempting to disrupt secret plans for offensive operations conducted by the Fourth Division, Army of Harmony and Reason, and did attempt to lead the Fourth Division to its destruction through enemy action.
CHARGE V, Violation of the Military Code, Article 104 (Aiding the Enemy)
SPECIFICATION 2: In that Major Conrad Fitzhugh, Military Intelligence, Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, did, at divers points in the Southern Front Area of Responsibility, without proper authority, knowingly give intelligence to the enemy by informing the enemy of the numbers, resources and operations of the Army of Harmony and Reason.
CHARGE VI, Violation of the Military Code, Article 106 (Espionage)
SPECIFICATION: In that Major Conrad Fitzhugh, Military Intelligence, Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, did, in time of war, at divers points within the Southern Front Area of Responsibility, act as a spy while purporting to serve as Military Intelligence Officer for the Southern Front Headquarters, Army of Harmony and Reason, for the purpose of collecting information regarding the numbers, resources and operations of the army of Harmony and Reason, with the intent to impart the same to the enemy.
Signature of accused _
***
Conrad Fitzhugh looked incredulously at the list of charges. Then at the woman major with her pale mauve lipstick. Then at the list of charges again.
At least they hadn't tried to forge his signature. Fitz thought he'd taken everything this war could throw at him. And now he realized that he hadn't even begun to catch it.
"Do you have a problem, Major Fitzhugh?" Major Gainor asked coolly. "You've had the charges read to you. You've now looked at them at some length. Unless you're prepared to sign it right now, which means confessing to the charges, I'll require some information. And I really doubt that you are prepared to sign it, because I'm sure that you're innocent. I just need to track down the witnesses to prove it. Can you help me?"
She ended by patting his thigh. Tana Gainor was the kind of woman who hadn't patted his thigh for a long time, not since well before his face had been so disfigured on the left-hand side. "You're with the JAG, aren't you?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes, I am."
"I was prepared to plead guilty for what I did do." Fitz shook the sheaf of papers at her. "This however, is a pack of vicious lies. It's a load of rubbish, which, you must know as an attorney, has not a chance of getting a guilty verdict. I am not a traitor, or a spy. They don't have a chance of making this stick."
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I know. But if I have a list of witnesses, we can really sew it up." He realized that she'd slipped a hand inside the sheet and was kneading his biceps. Hard to think straight with this charmer…
She shrieked and pulled back her hand. "Get your hands off, you hussy!" Fitz heard Ariel hissing. "He's mine!"
The major backed off, clutching her fingers. "That's a rat! You've got a rat in there!"
"Hello. It's the stitcher," said a cheerful voice from the door. "Don't talk to her, Fitz. Not unless you've got two lawyers present, and an anti-shark fence."
It was Mike Capra, who had been a flamboyant young attorney and fellow skydiver. He used to favor exotic waistcoats. Now, instead, he was in uniform with a pair of pips on his shoulders. He'd seen Major Gainor clutching her fingers, seen Ariel's head popping up from under the sheets… and had obviously added things up.
Capra saluted. "Good afternoon, Major. Don't you return a fellow officer's salute?"
She ignored the question, preoccupied with trying to stop the bleeding. "What are you doing here?" she asked poisonously, her voice very different from the sweet tones she'd used moments before.
"The same as you, I imagine, but for the other side." Capra winked at Fitz. "I'll bet Tana didn't inform you of your rights either."
Fitz tried to get his head around all this. "You're prosecuting me, Mike?"
Lieutenant Mike Capra shook his head with mock regret. "No. For my sins, I've been ordered to offer my services as part of your defense team. You are, of course, entitled to ask for someone else, and I hardly think the prosecution co
uld refuse to allow you a second attorney in a case of this size. They'd try, mind you." He pointed to the major who was now sucking her bitten finger. "This is the prosecution. Doubtless come to 'help' you. That's usually her line. Isn't it, Tana?"
With a look at him that could wither steel wire, she stormed out. Mike Capra exhaled, long and slow. "I hope you didn't tell her anything, Fitz?"
"No. Fortunately." He sighed. "How long am I likely to lie here, Mike? I can't get a straight answer out of these medics. I think that electrode-muscle stimulus should come under the heading of cruel and unusual punishments. Look, with nothing to do but lie on my damn back I've had nothing to do but think. And I need to talk to Bobby Van Klomp."
"I don't think that would be at all wise. He's got to keep his nose clean, Fitz. You need to say anything to Van Klomp, tell me."
"I need to discuss our supposed allies with him. Those 'treason' charges just crystallized some ideas in my head."
"You just go on letting them crystallize. I've been told that basically the medics can't find anything wrong with you and you're due to be discharged from here and into the tender care of the MPs. But don't worry. I'll still be around to hold your little hand, from time to time."
