WHEN CONRAD AND Ariel checked in to the headquarters-parking-precinct, Corporal Simms was waiting for them. Hopping with impatience.
"You'd better get home, Johnny. Be sure you sign out." Fitz spoke before the car had even fully stopped. This was a good man. No point in dragging him down into what was going to be a hell of a mess.
Simms simply ignored the comment. "I've got the G23-A signed and waiting. I've got current troop deployments up on screen for you. I think the division at Cressy could be mobilized within the hour. The only problem is that Brigadier Charlesworth is in charge of it. Still, they're the nearest. I took the liberty of going ahead and organizing transport vehicles. They've got farther to go. The dispatch riders have gone with that one, and I've got three others on standby."
For a moment Fitz could only stare at him. Swallow. How the hell? "Johnny, you go and get yourself signed out of that gate, now. PDQ! You've a wife, and a kid on the way, you fool. I want you out of this."
The corporal twitched a grin. There was no humor in it. "Let's get to the office, sir. There are lots of other men with wives and families. Sometimes, a man just does what he has to do."
They hurried down the passage. "How the hell did you know what I was going to do . . . and where the hell did you get redeployment orders?"
"Yeah. Well done, Johnny," said Ariel. "Saved us some trouble."
Simms sighed. "I'm a Vat, Major. I don't have delusions about Shareholders. I knew Carrot-up wouldn't do a thing, even if he believed you. The Kreutzler family has the main artillery-shell contract. Not in the family interest to do anything to disturb cost-plus. I know you. I knew what you'd decide to do."
Fitz stopped, removed his cap, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm a Shareholder too, Johnny."
The corporal grinned. "Nossir. You are a lunatic."
Ariel laughed. " 'Tis true. Hey Johnny, I wish you could have seen Daisy horse riding. Tell him, Fitz."
But the major was still intent on the subject in hand. "And the G23-A's? Redeployment orders live locked up in the general's safe."
"Yessir," said Simms. "They are well locked up. They're still well locked up. But only after Daisy orders the forms from central stationary stores. I walked into there and helped myself . . . about a month ago."
Once more Fitz found himself without a word to say.
"That's just how the army works, sir," said the corporal, obviously by way of further explanation.
Fitz had to admit that there was quite a lot of truth in this. "We're going to get court-martialed, you know."
"Yes, sir. That's unfortunate, sir."
Fitz made notes off the screen as Corporal Simms filled in the troop redeployment forms in a neat, precise hand . . . totally unlike General Cartup-Kreutzler's sprawling signature. "No word in from the satellite guy?" he asked.
The corporal looked up briefly from his meticulous detailing. "Nothing, I'm afraid, sir."
"Shit. They've bought it. Well, if we move fast maybe we can still salvage something from the price they've paid."
"If that idiot colonel has got his troops into position in the Magh's lines . . . and if they can hold until these troops get through," muttered Simms.
The phone rang. The corporal picked it up and answered in his best Shareholder drawl. His written counterfeiting was much better. "General Cartup-Kreutzler's office. Liaison Officer Simmons . . . Excellent! No. I'm afraid the general's unavailable right now. Yes, sir. I'll pass that on, sir. Yes, he is a genius, sir."
With huge smile, he turned to Fitz. "They've just pushed forward into the Magh' earthworks on sector Delta 355. They're totally unoccupied. He hopes the backup he's requested gets there soon. He says the general is a genius."
"And here is the A.33-1," said the returning rat. "Do you know how many stupid forms there are in that rat's-nest of an office? It's a disgrace! And what a mess they're in! The only reason that Daisy keeps her job is . . ."
Fitz grinned affectionately at her. Of course, most people would have found it a frightening experience. "Ariel, there is a box of chocolate cointreau straws in my top drawer! You are a rat past price. A darling."
"I love you too," said Ariel. "Even when I don't get my favorite form of chocolate for giving you the pleasure of shafting Brigadier Charlesworth."
Fitz looked at the forms. "Forget the dispatch rider, Johnny. I'm going to take these myself."
"Yesss!" Ariel cheered.
Corporal Simms looked worried. "What about the satellite stuff?"
Fitz pulled a face and spoke quietly. "They're dead, Corporal. They went damn well. All that is left now is to see that their effort isn't wasted. I'm going to see that that happens."
The phone rang again. Simms answered as previously . . . and then: "Henry! Sorry, didn't realize it was you. Yes, he's here."
Corporal Simms smiled beatifically, and held out the phone. "You're fucking well wrong, sir," he informed his commanding officer with glee.
Fitz reached for the phone. "Then I have some more organizing to do. But I'm still going."