the
room, "they should have shot the bastard"
     The room went silent, everyone turning to look at the speaker, who  sat
at a  dimly lit  table, surrounded by half a dozen men and  women who looked
around nervously. Jason could tell  instantly that  they were outsiders  and
that reaction he found to be curious. He'd been around military types for so
long a group of obvious civilians in a military bar seemed strange.
     Nearly everyone  who frequented the place now were either the few still
serving with the fleet or  ex-service, easily identified by the gold star of
the army, fleet pin, or fouled anchor pin of  a Marine on his collar.  There
was  also an  unexplainable something  else that  so easily  set the veteran
aside, a bit of a distant far away look, from having seen the far reaches of
known space, from having fought, and far too often  having seen friends die.
The six in the corner were not of the club.
     The room went quiet for a moment and Jason finally broke the ice.
     "It's a  free  Confederation, go ahead and speak up if you want to," he
announced.
     A short portly man  stood up and came over to  the bar,  followed a bit
nervously by the rest of his group.
     "Doctor Torg's the name, he said, "I didn't get yours."
     "I didn't give it, but it's Bondarevsky."
     "Oh yes,"  one of the women behind Torg gasped.  "I saw  the holo about
you. Oh, the girl you loved was just so beautiful."
     "The actress didn't look anything like her," Jason said quietly.
     "But still it was so sad," and she came up to Jason's side and actually
touched him on the shoulder and then looked back excitedly at her friends.
     Another woman in  the  group looked  at the  excited girl and shook her
head.
     "Say, Lisa, just back off a bit, OK."
     "But he's famous, Elaine."
     "I don't think he really wants the attention," Elaine replied.
     Jason nodded her a thanks and then looked back at Torg.
     "You don t like the Admiral, is that it?" Doomsday growled.
     Torg looked over at Doomsday and then turned away, ignoring him.
     "Do you know how much this war's been costing us?" Torg asked.
     "I think so," Jason said quietly.
     "Just under eight trillion a year."
     "That  wasn't  the  cost I was thinking  of," Jason replied slowly, his
voice barely a whisper.
     "The Baron  is  right.  Didn't  you  see  his  interview  on  the  holo
yesterday?"
     "We kind of missed it, Doomsday interjected, so please enlighten us."
     "Why, he said that this war was nothing but a conspiracy on the part of
the military to get power and make money. The longer the war dragged on, the
more power your admirals, generals, and military suppliers got."
     "Oh,  Baron Jukaga  said this," a pilot from the other side  of the bar
said,  "how  interesting, and  what  about  their  fleet?  I  guess  they're
innocent."
     "Why, he admitted that their fleet and military had done the same thing
too."
     "Was this holo shown in the Empire as well?" Kirha asked.
     Torg looked up at him nervously.
     "I don't know, I  guess so. He said  that a full  report would  soon be
issued by the Kilrathi-Human Friendship Committee."
     "The what?" several patrons of the bar asked in unison.
     "Why, it's just a  wonderful idea," the excited girl  announced  as she
walked to the far wall to look at the rows of silver mugs. "Doctor Torg is a
member of the committee, he's even met the Baron."
     "The  Baron is organizing a friendship committee that will provide  for
peaceful exchanges  between  our peoples," Torg said. "I  think he's  really
quite sensitive  to our culture, to a  tolerance for multicultural diversity
in the  universe, and  the rights of indigenous peoples of all races to live
in  peace.  I've even arranged for  him to  speak at my  university on Earth
about his understanding  of our literature and how to strengthen our ties of
peace."
     "Just  wonderful. I can't  wait to attend,"  Doomsday said, the sarcasm
dripping in his voice.
     "I  think  you're  being  too  narrow  minded  in  all  of this,"  Torg
announced,  looking  at Doomsday and  at  the  rest of  the patrons who were
shaking their heads.
     "Narrow minded. I hung  my hide out on the line for  over fifteen years
with the fleet and you're saying I'm narrow minded?" Doomsday snapped.
     "That's the problem  with military types like you," Torg replied with a
superior disdain. "You forget to  look at the broader issues. This war was a
lot more complicated than kill or be killed. You  military  types just don't
see the big picture, that's always been a problem throughout history. I have
my doctorate in sociology, I've made a study of this war and the  conspiracy
of a number of people to keep it going."
     "Say,  I  like these mugs up  here," the woman who had  been talking to
Jason announced,  going up  to  the  wall and taking one down.  The bar went
silent.
     "Especially the ones with the gold handle. How can I get one?"
     "You  get  killed in action,  that's how. Gallagher gilds the handle of
the mug when he  hears that the owner  bought a  permanent piece  of space,"
Jason said quietly, and the  woman looked  at him wide eyed and then  turned
pale.
     "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know."
     "That's all right," Jason replied softly.
     She came back to Torg's side.
     "Dave, maybe we should go."
     "Just a minute, Lisa."
     Come on, I think we've interfered enough here." Torg ignored her.
     "Listen, pilot, I think I  know a bit more about the complexity of this
than you do. As a  professor it's been my  job to  study and interpret these
types  of issues," Torg said.  "Just because you  got a service pin  doesn't
mean you own the Confederation. ъemember the war's  over, friend, so get off
the taxpayers back, get a real job, and get a life."
     Several  chairs  were kicked  over  and Jason  held  up his hand as  if
signaling his friends not to do anything.
     "Listen, buddy," Jason  replied. "You heard what Kirha said. This whole
thing is  a  sham.  The Baron's  talking  us into laying  our  necks  on the
chopping block and  he'll be back with  the axe. In fact I think some people
in this government are so stupid they're even  helping him sharpen the blade
and drawing the line on our necks for us, and you'll be there to help them.
     "Are you saying that President ъodham and I are traitors?"
     "No, just stupid."
     "If  there's  a  traitor  around it's you  and  people like you,"  Torg
snapped. "It's time to shut the hell up and get behind the government. Those
who disagree now with ъodham are traitors.
     "I was never behind our government," Jason replied. "I was out in front
of it, laying my hide on the line. Maybe you people back here on Earth  have
forgotten what a real gut-busting war is all about.  Yeah, you've  paid your
taxes for it, bought your war bonds, and lord knows sent enough of your sons
and daughters off to die in it.
     "You're damn straight," Torg replied, "my  wife's brother got killed in
it, and more than one of my students, and for what?"
     "For  what? Listen, buddy, out  on the frontier, on the colonial worlds
we damn well knew for what. We saw it up front and up close. We knew that if
the Kilrathi  ever got  through the thin  line of fighters and  carriers our
worlds could be scorched to  a  cinder. I saw enough worlds like  that.  You
folks back here on Earth maybe have forgotten that."
     "Not  all of us," Elaine  interjected. "I want  peace, and  I'd like to
believe the Baron, but I can understand what you're saying, Captain."
     "It's Jason."
     She  smiled and Jason could sense Torg bristling  that  someone in  his
entourage was siding with the enemy.
     "Then  if you  want war so damn much, why are you  drinking  with  this
Kilrathi?"
     Jason started to laugh.
     "You just don't get it, do you?"
     "Listen, doc," a pilot said, coming up to join the argument. "If  I had
met this Kilrathi in a fight,  him and me out there in the middle of it, I'd
have killed  him without a second thought  and I bet he'd have done the same
to me."
     Kirha grinned and nodded.
     "But  that's  my duty and it was his duty. I can hate his Empire, I can
hate what it does, but I can tell you this, at least the Cats serving in the
fleet, the pilots the  crews of the ships usually fought honorably. Imperial
legion assault troops, now they're a  different breed, but not him, at least
I hope not."
     "I was with the fleet," Kirha announced proudly.
     The pilot nodded.
     "And I respect him. At least he shared the same things I did, the fear,
the months  of waiting,  the moments of  sheer terror. I have more in common
with him than I do  with armchair philosophers like  you who think you  know
about war. You professor types kill me. You think just because you get  that
Ph.D. you're God almighty and everyone  is  supposed  to  kneel and call you
doctor.  Some  of the  biggest  fools  I  ever  met when it came  to war and
politics  I usually found back in  the classrooms. You fill  your  students'
minds with a  bunch  of crap  about a  world you don't even  understand. You
don't  have a clue as to  just how nasty  the real universe is, and then you
attack those  who  are protecting you from the darkness that would rip  your
guts out if it had the chance."
     "You're just another ignorant military brute," Torg sneered.
     The pilot snapped.
     "I spent  four years  at  the Fleet  Academy and six years in  advanced
training. I have the equal of a doctorate in aerospace  engineering and nine
years of combat tours," the pilot  snapped. "As for this Kirha, I'll buy him
a drink anytime. As for you,  the damn thing is I'll die defending  you when
this war starts again, and that kind of makes me want to puke right now."
     Torg hesitated for a second, unable to reply.
     "Let's get out of here,"  Torg finally announced, looking back  to  his
friends. "There's just no sense in arguing with people like this."
     "What do you mean people like this?" Ian interjected.
     "You know what I mean."
     "No, enlighten me."
     "War mongers, that's what you are. You  get your kicks out  of it,  and
then  live high  on the hog, taking your hundred  a week pension out of  the
taxpayers like me. If I had my way, we'd have ended  this war years ago  and
then spent the money  for things that really count and not  waste it on your
high tech war toys that are good for nothing but killing."
     "I  thought freedom was worth  something," Doomsday interjected "Enough
of my friends died for it. Enough of my friends died so you  could come here
and  play tourist and  speak your piece. That's the problem with people like
you. You forget all  too  quickly just how expensive  freedom really is  and
then curse at the very  people who  gave it to you.  No  wonder  I'm  always
depressed," and he turned away.
     "Now I  know  where  I've  heard  your  name,"  Torg snapped,  ignoring
Doomsday and  looking back at Jason. "It wasn't that holo movie,  it's  that
you're  one of  Admiral Tolwyn's  hangers-on. He's just the type I'm talking
about and he  got exactly what he deserved. In fact I agree  with the Baron,
he should have been executed."
     Even as he finished speaking he realized he had overstepped his bounds.
Jason stood  up and Ian put out  his hand to restrain  him. The bar  went as
silent as a tomb.
     Torg backed away a step.
     "Come on, let's get out of here," he  snapped,  trying  to  exit with a
display of bravado and contempt and failing miserably.
     "He turned  and headed for the door and then looked back nervously over
his shoulder.
     "Elaine."
     "Go on, Torg, just get out of here. Haven't you done enough already?"
     Torg quickly went out  the  door and then started talking loudly again,
denouncing Tolwyn and the military to his followers.
     Jason turned back to the bar as Elaine came up to his side.
     "I'm sorry, Jason."
     "Why don't  you just go, he whispered,  trying to control the anger  in
his voice.
     "Jason," and she touched him on the shoulder.
     He looked over at her, shrugging his shoulder so that she drew her hand
away.
     "He's a jerk," she said
     "I'd call him something else," Kirha said, and she smiled.
     "Listen, Jason. There's always some people like him around."
     "Well, he sure seemed like one of your friends."
     She laughed softly.
     "Like hell.  He's a professor on some stupid committee  that's supposed
to look  at turning over some of the bases here on the moon to civilian use.
I'm up here on assignment to cover it."
     "A reporter?"
     "Yeah,  a writer of sorts,  my magazine wants me to do  a story on  the
project. That's how I wound up with him this afternoon."
     "Oh great, another member of the press," Doomsday mumbled.
     She laughed
     "We're  not  all idiots,"  she replied, "and what you  heard  from Torg
isn't what most  people think.  Sure, we want peace, but most  of us, myself
included, are still suspicious of this whole thing. And  I'll tell you this,
you might have your idiots  like Torg ranting and  raving on some campus and
boring the  hell  out of his  students but he's  a  joke to anyone with real
sense. Nine out of ten people are damn proud of you. My older brother put in
two tours with the Marines  till he  got invalided out and I'm proud of him.
Ordinary folks aren't big on talking about it, but they feel it inside," and
as she spoke tears came to her eyes.
     "Well, the way the papers and holo stations report it,  it doesn't seem
that way," Jason said
     "You know and I  know the full story never really gets told, and didn't
your mother ever tell you don't believe everything you read?"
     He laughed softly.
     "As a matter of fact, she did."
     Elaine smiled.
     "Look, I've got  to go," she said and then fumbled in the bag  over her
shoulder. She pulled out a  card, scribbled a  number on the back  of it and
handed it to him.
     "That's my phone number while I'm out on assignment, and the  card's my
business office. I'll be up here for a couple of more days, maybe we can get
together for a drink."
     "I'd make a great story, is that it? Ex-hero, what is he doing now?"
     "Don't be so defensive," she said quietly. "It's not that at all."
     "A pick up then, is that it?"
     "You wish," she laughed. "No, just being  a  friend.  That  jerk really
embarrassed me. Most all of us are  damned grateful for what  all of you did
in the war. A lot of us lost people we know. If we're buying the peace thing
its because we  just want the damn thing  to  stop. The offer's just being a
friend, nothing more."
     She looked at him and smiled.
     "Honestly."
     "You  know we  want it  to end too," Jason replied, "but  we want it to
stop after we know it's really over, and that we or our kids  after us don't
have to go back out and fight it all over again.'
     She nodded in reply.
     "Just a friendly  gesture on  my  part,  no strings  attached. OK?" She
extended her hand.
     "OK," and he smiled softly.
     She  shook his hand  and turned to leave and then hesitated, looking up
at Kirha.
     "So you really think its a trap?"
     Kirha nodded.
     She sighed and left the bar.
     Shaking his head Jason watched as she headed out into the main corridor
and  disappeared  around the  corner.  He had  to  admit she  certainly  was
attractive,  he always did have a thing for very slender brunettes. But then
the flash memory of Svetlana hit  him and all the old  pain came back again.
He  folded her card up and pushed  it under the coaster  for  his  beer. The
whole thing with Svetlana was still too close for him to want to even make a
try at getting involved again.
     "Think what that professor guy said is for real?" the bartender asked
     "If  so  you'd  better  learn how to  serve Vak'qu, because many of  my
former comrades will be drinking in this place once  the next  war is over,"
Kirha growled.
     "What the hell is that?"
     "It makes what you call single malt scotch look like bak."
     "Bak?"
     Kirha and Ian laughed
     "It  has something to do  with old diapers, Ian cut in. "Let's just say
Vak'qu will burn a hole right through durasteel."
     "Hey, look what  just  dragged in," Doomsday announced and to the shock
of everyone he leaped from  his seat and went  up to  greet a  short, almost
baby-faced pilot coming through the door.
     "Lone Wolf Tolwyn," Jason  shouted and  went up  to join  Doomsday in a
round of backslapping.
     At the name Tolwyn the other pilots and ex-service crowd in the bar got
up and gathered around him.
     "How's the old man taking it?" and the question  was shouted a dozen or
more times as Kevin made his  way up to the bar and  allowed Doomsday to buy
his "old life saving buddy," a drink.
     "It's been tough on him," Kevin announced quietly. "He's retired to the
family  estate  out  on  the Shetland Islands.  At least out there the press
can't get at him."
     Kevin  chatted  with  the crowd  for several  minutes  and then  caught
Jason's eye and motioned for him to break away from the group.
     As  they moved away Kevin nodded for Doomsday and Ian to join them in a
corner of the  bar. Settling down around a table which was covered  from one
end  to  the  other with carved initials and squadron insignia  Kevin looked
around at his old comrades and smiled.
     "My uncle  sent me up here on  a little, how shall  I  say,  recruiting
expedition."
     "For what?" Jason asked.
     "I  can't  tell you, because I don't even really know myself, but  he's
been calling in a  lot of his  old  comrades and  personnel to stop  by  his
estate for  a visit. He sent me out to round up some  of  you hanging around
out here at the  old base. Would you  three be willing to drop down to Earth
for a day or two?"
     "Anything the old man wants," Ian said.
     Kevin smiled.
     "There's a shuttle  leaving in  three hours and  I  took the liberty of
booking some  seats on it for you and a couple other people I'm looking for.
Transfer over to the London shuttle once you  get to Earth orbit. Touch down
and head  to gate 443, there'll be  a ground  hop waiting for you  there.  I
don't think I need  to tell you that this  little trip is very  private,  so
lets keep a secure lid on it."
     Ian suddenly frowned and looked back to the bar where Kirha was looking
over expectantly at him.
     "Got a  problem,"  Ian said  quietly and motioned to where his Kilrathi
friend was sitting.
     "What about him?"
     Kevin looked over at Kirha and smiled sadly.
     "My uncle said that poor Cat might try and look you up. I'm sorry, Ian,
security is just too tight on this."
     Ian nodded sadly.
     "Look, let's do it this way," Jason interjected. "Your family still has
that farm back in Australia. Send him there until  we finish up  whatever it
is the Admiral wants."
     Ian smiled and then reached into his wallet and pulled it out.
     Doomsday, Kevin, and Jason,  seeing the dilapidated  condition of Ian's
wallet and overall financial condition pulled out what money they had.
     "That ought to be enough to buy him a ticket. Thanks, lads."
     "Look, he can take one of my seats down to London, and then you can fly
him to Australia from there. I'll get in contact with my uncle and make sure
someone meets us at the shuttle port to take him out."
     Ian nodded his thanks.
     Kevin smiled and shook hands around the table.
     "I'll see you at Windward."


        CHAPTEъ FOUъ

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