Martine stared hollow-eyed at the treacherous beans. His squadmates stared at him. Felix shoveled pay chits into an embroidered leather bag ornamented with a hand-stitched picture of a Scorpion ground-effect tank on the side. There was a tense silence. Perched above the tableau, HuГ©mac schooled his face to impassivity and then – when the men behind Martine fully grasped they'd lost their last month's pay in a single game of patolli – he dropped lightly to the floor beside corporal Felix.
"Officer on deck!" someone bawled in fear and surprise. "Attention!"
Twenty-five men scrambled to adopt something approaching proper posture. Even Felix was on her feet, the embroidered bag already hidden inside her field jacket. Martine was looking rather pale, his squadmates pressing around him on either side.
"At ease," Thai-i HuГ©mac announced, back straight as the vanadium core barrel on a squad shipgun. "Private Martine, whose mat and beans are these?"
"Mine, sir." The Marine swallowed and managed to stiffen to attention. More than one pair of surreptitious hands helped him. A squad had to stick together in the face of enemy fire.
HuГ©mac looked consideringly at Felix, who was not smiling but was very, very attentive. "Do you even own a patolli mat, corporal?"
"Sir," Felix said in a very earnest voice, "I do not."
HuГ©mac tried not to smile. Sometimes you have to play these things out, as a public lesson. "Do you like to play patolli, corporal? Are you a gambling woman?"
"No, sir," Felix said with an entirely straight face. "I never gamble."
The senior lieutenant looked around at the goggling faces of the Marines crowded into the barracks. Most of them were on the verge of apoplexy, though HuГ©mac could make out one or two – including the relaxed Heicho Tonuac and his pamphlet – who were trying not to grin. Squadmates, the lieutenant recognized, or men who'd bet on Felix rather than on poor Martine. HuГ©mac returned his attention to the sallow-looking private.
"Private Martine," he said very patiently. "Did you invite Heicho Felix to join your game of patolli? Is this your mat, token and beans?"
"Yes, sir." Martine's voice was very faint. He appeared to be having trouble focusing on the lieutenant's face.
"I see." HuГ©mac raised his voice, so everyone in the compartment could hear. "I am sure Heicho Felix only joined your game to be polite. I understand she does not like to gamble. I suggest in the future, you scrupulously respect her wishes in this matter. Private, you should pick up your patolli board before someone steps on it."
HuГ©mac stood there, stone-solid, until the crowd of Marines began to break up. They were glum, shamefaced and broke. Inwardly, he sighed in despair. What was Martine thinking? He knows Fourth Squad lost all of their money last month!
"Felix – you stay right here." The senior lieutenant did not turn, but he could feel the corporal freeze in her tracks and then resume a parade rest. HuГ©mac waited, thumbs hooked into the back of his uniform belt, until the Marines had returned to their usual pursuits. Only Heicho Tonuac was still watching the senior lieutenant out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to read. HuГ©mac turned, eyes narrowing to black slits, a hint of the steady anger he felt showing in his face. Felix stiffened, lips compressing into a bare rose-colored line. "The chu-sa," he said quietly, "in his infinite, godlike wisdom has tapped your squad, corporal, for some extracurricular activity. Normally, Gunso Fitzsimmons would be here to take on preparatory duties, but he is absent. So you will run every single man in your unit through a full workup on their combat z-armor, ship-to-ship assault gear and secure comm tech. Weapons is running up a simulator pack for you. I'd guess you'll have a couple days to run through the scenario."
HuГ©mac almost smiled. "You'll be assault leader, Felix, so I will be watching you very closely. Your squad will have a 'hot' target and I dislike losing men. The chu-sa will be paying close attention to how you do in the sim."
"Yes, sir!" Felix was starting to look almost as pale as Martine, though the thai-i knew the young Marine was aware of what was coming, where the foolish private had been led blindfolded to the butcher's block. "May the corporal ask a question, sir?"
"Go on." HuГ©mac tilted his head to one side, watching tiny beads of sweat begin to collect along the woman's hairline. He wondered how quickly a betting pool would start, wagering on the exercises in the sim. Within the hour, he supposed. Maybe by the time I leave the compartment.
"Who…who will be running opposition in the sim, sir?"
The senior lieutenant's smile widened, showing a full set of perfect white teeth. "Sho-sa Kosho has been assigned that role, corporal."
"Sir?!" Felix blurted, her face ashen. "The Wind-knife, sir? She'll -"
"She'll what?" HuГ©mac asked curiously.
Felix seemed unable to speak and HuГ©mac watched with interest while the Marine recovered her composure. Something like real dread had penetrated the corporal's usually unflappable demeanor.
"Nothing, sir." Felix stiffened to attention again. "Have mission guidelines been posted?"
"I have them," HuГ©mac replied, his bronzed face once more composed. "You'll find them…challenging, I think. But Chu-sa Hadeishi has expressed great faith in your abilities, Heicho Felix. I hope you do not disappoint him."
"Thank you, sir." Felix started to look pale again. Her voice had strangled itself into a squeak. "Hadeishi-tzin asked for me?"
HuГ©mac nodded gravely, a peculiar glitter in his dark eyes. "He did. He thinks you're lucky."
Outbound from Ephesus III
"Still nothing…" Magdalena was curled up in a nest of Navy-issue blankets over-flowing the captain's chair on the bridge of the Palenque. Slitted yellow eyes watched another set of scan data unspool on a secondary v-pane. There was plenty of noise, static and ghostly warbling filling the comm bands down on the planetary surface. But there was a singular lack of recognizable traffic on Imperial and Company channels. "Parker, can you switch on the main array? Just for an hour or two?"
There was a grunt from behind her and the Hesht tilted her head back far enough to see one of the human's legs hanging out of a ceiling tile. Though the Navy engineer had managed to get the ship underway, the bridge systems of the Palenque were still mostly down. Coils of conduit, cable and guide-sheathing were exposed everywhere. Very few systems were working. There was no heat, no light. Other than the cold, the Hesht was very comfortable in the cavernlike space.
"Parker…" Magdalena began a harsh, throbbing growl at the back of her throat.
There was a scraping sound and the human pilot's face appeared in an opening between two of the tiles. Light from a glowbean shone around his balding head. "Miss Cat," he said, sounding wrung out, "the main comm array is shut down, turned off and locked out by order of our dear judge. If you want it active, you will have to persuade Stoneface down in Engineering."
"He eats moss," Magdalena replied, ears twitching. Finely napped black fur curled back from her fore-incisors and she let an inch of claw expose on her left hand – just for a moment. "Rrrrrr…they could be in trouble dirtside. Another pack might have them cornered. Her leg could be broken, she could be caught in the open, exposed!"