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“Mister”-the girl’s voice was soft with awe-“how’d you know all that?”

Ben looked at her. She was pretty and shapely and ripe for picking. “And I’ll bet this Corning-I’ll bet he likes you a lot, right?”

She nodded her head. “He’s taken a shine to me, yeah.”

“No doubt.” Ben’s reply was dry. How quickly some of us revert, he thought. Tribal chieftain. He stood up and the kids quickly backed away, toward the open door. “Take it easy. I won’t hurt you. Are you going to get into trouble for coming here, warning me?”

The girl shook her head. “We come the back trails. We know where the lookouts is. “You leavin’?”

“Yes, I’ll be gone in half an hour.”

She stood gazing at him. “We’re not bad people, mister. We jist don’t want no more of your world, that’s all. Why cain’t ever’body just live the way they want to live, and then ever’body would git along?”

Why indeed? Ben thought, and once again, the Rebels entered his mind. He felt compelled to say something profound. Instead he said, “Because, dear, then we wouldn’t have a nation, would we?”

She blinked. “But we ain’t got one now, have we?”

Then they were gone.

“Wonder what happened to that cult?” Cecil asked.

“Died out, hopefully. Maybe someone bigger and stronger than Corning came along and killed him. That’s the way it usually happens, I guess.” He stood up and stretched. “Any word from Dan?”

Cecil grinned a warrior’ smile of satisfaction over hearing of an enemy’s defeat. “Not since yesterday. That is one randy Englishman. His bunch completely destroyed a full column of IPF troops. Wiped them out to a person.”

“For a fact, Cec, Dan does not like to be bothered with prisoners. Those SAS boys were randy as hell.” Ben grinned. “Besides wiping out an entire column, they demoralized the hell out of a bunch of other IPF troops.” Ben’s grin grew wider. “I can’t help but wonder what happened to that colonel who was commanding the unit.”

“Dan said he turned tail and ran.”

“Well, he got his tit in the wringer for that, I’m betting.”

Cecil gave Ben a mock grimace. “God, Ben! I’m

glad Gale isn’t here to hear that crack.” Ben laughed. “Me, too.”

General Striganov at first could not believe his ears. He stared at Colonel Fechnor for a full moment. “The entire battalion!” the general finally roared. He rose from his chair to face a still-badly-shaken Fechnor. “I can’t believe this. You lost an entire battalion?”

Colonel Fechnor’s driver stood by the colonel’s side. The young man was trembling from fear and exhaustion: fear at General Striganov’s rage, and exhaustion from the long and sometimes-harrowing drive north, all the while imagining all sorts of dire repercussions from the general. Much to his regret, what he envisioned was coming true.

Fechnor stood at full attention, no give in him at his general’s rage. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “First a bridge blew, then we were forced to wait and regroup. Then we were ambushed in Ottumwa. I-was

“I am not interested in excuses!” Striganov roared. His face was red with fury. “Excuses are a weak man’s forte. You are not a weak man, Fechnor. Fechnor-was he visibly calmed himself-“you are a trained, experienced combat veteran. You were decorated for your work in Afghanistan, for bravery as well as for common sense. We’ve been together since you were a mere lieutenant. What in the name of everything we hold sacred has happened to your courage?”

“There is nothing the matter with my courage, General,” Fechnor flared, forgetting to hold his tongue. “My scouts reported the town deserted. I am forced to accept their findings-as any field commander must.

We approached the city with all due caution. My people fought well. But in vain. As for me-was

“You ran.” Striganov stated the damning fact flatly, considerable heat in his voice. “You should have remained there, fighting and dying with your people.”

The colonel met the general’s stare, refusing to back down. “What you say may be true, General. If so, I am ready to accept and face whatever punishment you deem necessary, including, of course, the firing squad. I-was

Striganov waved him silent. He ordered the driver to leave the room. The young man almost fell over his feet in his haste to obey. Both men were forced to smile at the young man’s antics. They both remembered their own youth, and their fear and awe of superior officers. The eyes of the two senior officers of the IPF met and held, and understanding passed between them in silent messages.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Valeska,” Striganov said. “I have absolutely no intention of putting you against a wall. I spoke in haste; you should not have stayed and died. You are my most experienced and valuable field officer. I cannot afford to lose you; you know that. I apologize for losing my temper. Your scouts are to blame for not thoroughly checking the city. They should have-as you did-sensed an ambush.” Striganov returned to his chair and sat down heavily, sighing deeply. He remained thus for a time, brooding silently. Finally he looked up, catching Colonel Fechnor staring at him. The colonel was still standing at attention.

“Stand at ease, Colonel,” Striganov said. “No,” he amended that order. “Relax, make

yourself comfortable. Have some tea. I insist.”

Colonel Fechnor relaxed and walked to the tea service, pouring a cup of tea. He sugared and creamed the beverage and returned to sit in a chair facing General Striganov’s desk, carefully placing cup and saucer on the desk.

“Valeska,” the general said softly, “do you believe in any sort of supreme being?”

The question caught Fechnor off-guard. He thought for a few seconds, then said, “Why I…” He paused, not sure how to reply,

“Truthfully, now, old friend,” Striganov said with a very slight smile, as if sharing some secret with the man, a confidence only the two of them knew. “We have no one listening to report our conversation back to the Central Party Headquarters.”

Fechnor returned the slight smile. “Yes,” he said. “One does tend to forget the old ways no longer apply, da?”

“Old habits are difficult to break,” Striganov agreed.

“Yes,” Fechnor spoke after a time. “Yes… I do believe there is something … something-I don’t know what-after death. Good or bad,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Yes-I simply cannot believe that all the world, with its trees and flowers and animals and … beings just evolved. I have felt that way for a long time. Since maturity.” Colonel Fechnor felt better for having said that.

“I see.” Georgi spoke the words so softly Valeska had to lean forward and strain to hear them. The colonel waited for his commander to drop the other shoe-if he had another shoe to drop. He did.

“Yes,” Striganov said. “I find that interesting, Valeska. For I, too, have felt for some time there just might be some truth to the belief in a higher power. Although I do not profess to know what type of higher power-I don’t believe anyone does. I …” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I do believe … I have this thought, this theory, that President-General Ben Raines stands-quite unknowingly, I think-very close to this… this higher being, there really is some sort of… supreme being.”

Col. Valeska Fechnor could but stare at his commander. He could not believe the words his ears had heard.

Striganov’s smile held more than a touch of amusement. “Oh yes, Valeska. Your ears have not deceived you. But I repeat: I do not believe Ben Raines knows of his … closeness. If my theory is correct, that is. However, I do not think Ben Raines is always viewed in a favorable light by-was he grimaced-“by whatever it is that we believe might exist as some higher power or order.”