"Don't get impatient," I snapped. "We haven't had the wedding yet. We've only had time to make a baby. Hey-" I looked up, startled. "These aren't promotion papers. You have me resigning from the Special Forces!"
Wallachstein and Anderson both looked startled. "You didn't tell him?"
Lizard looked unhappy. "I didn't have a chance." She shook her head in resignation and apology. "I figured it would be better if you explained it."
"Explained what?" I demanded.
"General Wainright doesn't like you. Dannenfelser hates you."
"So?"
Danny Anderson spoke up. "I'm afraid you've made rather a had enemy of the Wicked Witch of the West. Nobody does revenge like a faggot."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me-?" I remembered Lizard telling me once that Danny was gay.
"It takes one to know one. The point is, the son of a bitch has filed charges against you. You nailed him to a wall, didn't you?"
"Not hard enough, I guess. He pried himself loose."
"Well, aside from the fact that there are several dozen members of the general's own staff who'd like to shake your hand, there's also a disciplinary hearing pending. You're damned lucky that it isn't a court-martial. You have got to be the luckiest goddamned son of a bitch in the whole United States Army. Your history is full of this kind of crap. And you've never even had your wrist slapped. That business with leading the renegades to the storage facility, the appropriation of military property, your absence without leave, the assumption of Captain Duke Anderson's identity, that raid you led on the renegade camp, the executions that followed-you left quite a trail of bodies."
Uncle Ira interrupted, "We covered for you then because you were treading very close to several other operations that we needed to protect."
"I never assumed that it was out of any sense of loyalty to me."
Uncle Ira ignored my interruption. "We also protected you because General Tirelli felt that your testimony might assist the President in making the decision to use nukes in Colorado."
"God only knows why we bothered," Danny Anderson said. "That cute little exercise with Major Bellus-well, you pulled a real rating with that stunt. We wouldn't have covered for you on that one, but you have a friend in the President's ear." He didn't have to look to Lizard; I knew what he meant.
"Danny-" Wallachstein stopped his colleague with a touch on the arm. He turned back to me. "The joke is that we can protect you from a charge of murdering civilians-that's easy-but we can't protect you if you rough up a general's catamite. After I put you on the plane to Panama City, I found out that Dannenfelser had filed charges against you-obviously, he did that with Wainright's backing; the son of a bitch does not stay bought-and now the MPs are looking for you to put you under arrest. I had to do some very fast tap-dancing. Lucky for you, I'm good at it. I managed to lose your paperwork for a while, so they're still looking for you in Idaho or Alaska or somewhere in transit between those points. Hell, for all I know, you might be in Saskatchewan. I don't know where you went. In fact, I'm not even here myself."
"These papers," said Anderson, indicating the sheaf of documents I still held, "are predated. If you resigned your commission before you decked Dannenfelser, he can't bring a military action against you, only a civilian one."
"I see," I said. "And when did I resign my commission?"
"Verbally, to General Tirelli, when you were replaced as science officer on this mission. General Tirelli will confirm that." I looked to Lizard. She nodded.
"This paperwork makes it official. It doesn't protect you if Dannenfelser wants to bring charges against you in civil court, but I think that's highly unlikely. This is going to catch them very off balance."
"I seem to be missing something here. I resign from the Special Forces and everybody's off the hook, right? I assume that means I'm also off the mission-and if that's true, why did Lizard reclassify me and why did you let me into your Double-Q, Red Status briefing?"
"Would you finish looking through the papers, please? And would you sign them quickly? You're holding up lift-off."
I shuffled through to the bottom of the stack. "What the hell?"
"Congratulations," said Wallachstein. "You're going to be the first Indian scout the federal government has hired in more than a century."
"Indian scout-?"
"Uh-huh. The United States Army is authorized to hire civilians for specific purposes as needed. Civilians with special aptitudes. Indian scouts. You're one-quarter Cherokee, aren't you?"
"Does that matter?"
"Not really. It just suits my sense of irony."
"One-eighth Cherokee, actually," I explained. "My maternal grandmother. I'm also one-quarter black and one-quarter Hispanic on my mother's side. We're sort of a one-family melting pot. I've got Jewish and Irish blood too."
"Never mind. That's close enough," Wallachstein cut me off impatiently. He pointed to the papers. "That contract guarantees your employment for the duration of the war, or until either party requests its termination. Your wages will be four times what you earned in the Army; plus, you're eligible for the continuation of all current military insurance, medical, financial, and other allied benefits. And, yes, you'll continue to collect bounties on every worm you kill directly or indirectly, on a pro-rata basis. You'll find that the schedule of bounties for attached civilians is significantly higher than that of military personnel."
"As an official United States Army Indian scout," added Danny Anderson, "you will be assigned to General Tirelli's staff, and you will be required to perform whatever duties she may require of you. Your first assignment will be to accompany her on Operation Nightmare and apply your expertise with the Chtorran infestation toward the successful conclusion of this mission."
Wallachstein added, "Officially, of course, you will no longer be an active part of the Special Forces, nor will you be privy to the Special Forces data network. You will, however, become part of the Uncle Ira operation, and you'll find that the quality of information available to you as a Double-Q Red is much more interesting.
"The important thing is that this will also remove you entirely from General Wainright's chain of command. In fact, it will remove you from everybody else's chain of command too. You won't be giving any more orders-only advice. You won't be allowed to lead any military operations either. You might find that a little frustrating. But if you'll check out section thirteen, you'll see that the United States Army retains the option of reactivating your commission at some unspecified time in the future. If necessary."
"In other words, I can be drafted twice-I thought the law didn't allow double jeopardy."
Wallachstein shrugged. "We're leaving the door open, in case General Wainright drops dead. Someday it might be useful to put you back on the. main track. Will you sign the papers, please?"
"What if I refuse? What if I decide to fight Dannenfelser's charges?"
"Then I'll have to order General Anderson to place you under immediate military arrest, remove you from this vessel, and turn you over to the proper authorities as soon as we return to Houston. Any other questions?" Wallachstein gave me a bland blue-eyed stare. I recognized the expression; it was the don't-bother-asking-any-more-questions, the-answer-will-be-no expression.
I made a noise of annoyance and signed the papers anyway. Lizard witnessed them. Danny Anderson notarized them. Uncle Ira took them, folded them up quickly, and stuffed them into a pocket inside his jumpsuit. Danny Anderson said, "Your ID card too, please?" I handed it across, and he slipped it into the slot of his clipboard. He thumbed in a command, waited two seconds, then passed it back to me. I glanced at it without curiosity. Where my rank had been listed, the notation retired had been added, followed by civilian attached specialist; several of the military validations also looked different. The validation number on its face changed as I glanced at it; the number would cycle through random changes forever. The card could be counterfeited, but not the program contained within its chip. I slipped the card back into the transparent slot on the front of my shirt pocket.