"I wasn't hungry."
"Kids your age are hungry all the time, but let that pass. What do you think happened to Artillery Pledge Fletcher?"
"The commandant hit the nail on the head, sir. Some outsider jumped him between here and mess hall, and the pledge got so scared he dropped dead. I wish I'd gone with Pledge Fletcher. He wouldn't have attacked the two of us." I made the mistake of glancing at the treasure. Squadron saw my eyes move. Grinning, he slid the book to the edge of the dresser.
"No outsider has ever, and I moanever, managed to sneak in here without being seen. It's almost impossible to get in or out without passing a guard station. Breaking into the dorms, you have to set that up in advance, don't you? Get a buddy to crack a window for you, talk him into hanging around a fire door?"
Once or twice a month, a reckless cadet who had escaped into town regained entry to the dorms by precisely those means. "I don't know anything about that."
He folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head to one side, still smirking at me. "But since this is between you and I, we both know the commandant's story is horse puckey, don't we?"
I did my best to look puzzled. "Sir, I don't understand."
"I probably don't, either. But here's what I know." He unfolded his arms and used the index finger of his left hand to tick off points on the fingers of his right, as he did in our calculus class. "Point one. Only two other cadets with fourth-floor rooms were still around on the night in question. Cavalry Pledges Holbrook and Joys reported to the mess by 1800 hours and returned to their quarters before 1900 hours to study for the same final in military philosophy you had to take. They observed lights-out at 2330 hours.
"Two. Artillery Pledge Fletcher's roommates, Artillery Pledges Woodlett and Bartland, witness to his intention of dropping off in your quarters a book you wanted to borrow, thereafter to proceed to the evening meal in time to arrive approximately when they would do so, then report back to the third floor and prepare for his chem final until lights-out.
"Three. When their roommate failed to appear at mess, Artillery Pledges Woodlett and Bartland assumed that he had chosen to forgo dinner in favor of study in the library. Shortly before lights-out, they went downstairs into the courtyard for the purpose of greeting the pledge on his return from his solitary labors. He did not return, guess why, the poor kid was already dead. Artillery Pledges Woodlett and Bartland remained down there until 2330 hours, at which time a single window on the north side of the fourth floor remained alight. That was the window of your room, Pledge."
"I apologize for the infraction, sir," I said.
He focused on the wall above my cot. "They came up here, thinking that the pledge might have been in your room all that time. During their short conversation with you, they were informed that he had loaned you the book and gone on his merry way. They returned to quarters in the hopes that the pledge would appear before the night was out. Unfortunately, the pledge did not. Instead, a deal of trouble was visited upon us, and the name of this fine institution was dragged through the mud."
He fixed me witha blunt stare. "At which time, and I think we have come to point number four, you came into my mind. I suppose you had been in my mind all along. I was already starting to wonder if you had put all those pledges into the infirmary."
"Sir," I said, "accidents happen. Did any of them blame me for their injuries?"
"Right. Point five. Accidents happen. After careful consideration, I have surprised myself by concluding that you are one of those accidents." He was staring directly into my eyes. "I think you're something new. I don't even know what to call it. You spooked those kids so had they're afraid to open their mouths. Know what I think? I think our setup here was exactly what you were looking for."
"Sir, excuse me, but this is incredible," I said. "A bunch of kids fall down and break some bones, and you blame it on me."
"Point six." Captain Squadron was still holding my eyes. "Let's get back to that light in your window. Artillery Pledges Woodlett and Bartland were surprised to see that it was turned on. There were a number of reasons why that could be. You might have forgotten to turn it off before leaving. Or Artillery Pledge Fletcher forgot to turn it off. Or, what they were hoping, he hadn't switched off your light because he was still in the room. So up they come and, surprise, surprise, you're here after all."
He gave me an odd, twisted smile and tilted his head against his raised fist in a charged, deliberate pause. I was surprised to feel a chill of fear in my stomach, and I hated him for causing it. "Did they knock before they came in?"
"I think they did," I said. He was getting too close. "Everybody does. Section three, paragraph six of chapter two in the Reg Book, 'Pledge Deportment.' "
He looked as if he was figuring out how to get a nasty stain off the wall. "But you don't knock on the door of an empty room. The pledges, whose memories seem to be better than yours, say they just barged in."
"It's possible," I said.
Squadron held his pose for another beat. He lowered his hand and gave me a slow, sub/zero smile. "Artillery Pledge Fletcher did the same thing, didn't he?"
Humiliating fear sparkled in my viscera. "I believe he followed regs and knocked first."
"I believe he did not." Squadron gazed around the room for a moment, then shot me a speculative glance. "Where are we, point eight?"
"Seven," I said. "Sir."
"Okay, seven. Point seven. After atremendous amount of thought, I have come to believe that Artillery Pledge Fletcher came across something he shouldn't have seen. He surprised you. All of a sudden he was a threat. Boy, I really wonder what that kid stumbled into. And I wonder how you managed to scare him so bad his heart actually stopped, but I don't suppose you'll tell me. You did it, though. And you knew what you were doing."
"That's crazy," I said. I felt as if a truck had run into me. "You can't actually be telling me that you think I killed Fletcher."
"I'm not saying you planned on doing it, and I'm not even saying that you did it directly. Otherwise, Pledge, that's an affirmative. I think he put you in a position where you had to get rid of him, and somehow you managed to do that. Hell, I don't think you killed him, I know you did. That kid walked in here and never walked out."
I stared at him with what I hoped looked like rubber-faced shock. "Sir," I said, "on my honor as a pledge, he came in, gave me the book, and left. That's all."
Squadron moved to the door and slouched against it. His demeanor had changed from hard-edged aggression to a weary certainty shot through with sadness. That this uncomplicated ramrod of a man had risen to something like emotional subtlety heightened my fear.
"I suppose you hid the body under your cot until you could move it without being seen."
"How can you say these things? Because I'm new? Because you decided you didn't like me?" My anger floated dangerously close to the surface. "I should have gone out for football. Then I'd still be your fair-haired boy, and you wouldn't be blaming me every time one of your prize dumbbells gets a broken bone." Before I went any further over the line, I managed to get myself under control. "Excuse me, please, sir, that remark was uncalled for. I apologize. But I repeat, I swear on my honor as a pledge—"
"Halt," he said. "Stop right there."
"But sir, I—"
"Halt, I said.” His eyes had darkened with disgust. "I have only one more thing to say to you, and I don't want you fouling the air before I do." Captain Squadron gave his jacket a yank and then gripped the flaps of his pockets and yanked again, savagely, as if he were trying to rip them off. "I don't want to hear any more bullshit about your honor as a pledge, because as ridiculous as it must seem to you, I happen to lake our code very, very seriously. It takes some transfers a little while to figure out that the code isn't just empty words, but most of them get it in the end. You never will. You're like a species of one. You're a disease."