"You know, you're the first sophont of your kind I've seen," he said, turning around to look Thumper in the eye. "We got some Gambolts in the company, a couple Synthians, a Volton-and all kinds and shapes of humans, of course.
But you're the first-what did you say your species was?"
"I'm a Lepoid, from Teloon," said Thumper. "I guess we look like some kind of Old Earth animal called a rabbit. In basic, the sergeant called me things like Bunnyears and Cottontail. Do the sergeants here make fun of people and call them names?"
"Captain don't like that," said Gears. "People do it anyway, but if they get too nasty, they can get in trouble. Mostly it's just funnin' between friends." Lieutenant Armstrong was more aloof than Gears perhaps his confrontation with the hunting party had something to do with that. Still, the lieutenant's first reaction to Thumper had been a kind of shocked silence, and he had never really done much in the way of welcoming him to the company. Thumper wondered whether Armstrong was uncomfortable with nonhumans, though Gears's mentioning that legionnaires of several other races belonged to the company seemed to rule that out. Well, unless Armstrong was his immediate superior, that seemed unlikely to be a problem. Thumper's train of thought came to an end as the hoverjeep crossed into the Legion camp and came to a stop.
"Well, here we are," said Gears. He pointed toward a large woman sitting at a portable desk, shaded by an awning.
"You'll need to report to First Sergeant Brandy, I guess that's her over there. She'll tell you where to go and what to do."
"Thanks!" said Thumper, grabbing his duffel and jumping out of the hoverjeep.
"No problem, buddy," said the driver. "And good luck!" He started the jeep back up and he headed off. Thumper shouldered his duffel and began walking toward Brandy. He still had no idea what Omega Company had in store for him, but he was about to find out and this-time, he was determined not to throwaway his opportunities.
9
Journal #695
My employer's single stroke of genius was his perception that running his Legion company was in principle no different from running any other kind of business. Well, perhaps "genius" overstates the case, but certainly the discovery was something no one else in the military seems to have stumbled upon. This meant, among other things, identifying key personnel arid making certain that their loyalty was secured by the most direct means.
I am quite certain that my employer would have been unable to parse the admonition "Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn," let alone identify its source; but he showed a keen understanding of it in practice. This understanding was particularly evident in his handling of the Supply sergeant, one Chocolate Harry.
Chocolate Harry yawned and looked around his office. Somewhere or another he'd put a catalog of custom hovercycle parts, little things that might add the perfect finishing touch to his beloved Hawg. Where had he put it? He riffled through a the top couple of inches of a stack of magazines and catalogues on his desk, then stood and went to one of the file cabinets. But the thought of dealing with the chaos he knew he'd find inside was almost enough to chill his enthusiasm. He kept meaning to set up his database engines to connect him to the major hovercycle supply houses, but it was too much like work... His hand went halfway to the handle of the most likely drawer, then he drew it back. Before he ordered up any new parts, he really needed to give the Hawg a bit of a ride to see just how it was running. It'd been a few days-as good as Omega Company had been to him, he'd fallen in the habit of actually giving his job priority over his hobbies. The old Chocolate Harry would never have approved. But Captain Jester had made a very persuasive case for the advantages of taking care of Legion business-very tangible benefits, as it happened. And the captain had no qualms about letting the noncoms have all their traditional prerogatives... including the little rake offs Harry had become accustomed to. Still, it had been a few days since he'd revved up the bike. It wasn't good for it to sit idle. Harry turned his gaze out the window, to the semiarid landscape beyond the Legion camp. It was a clear day, but-not too hot, and there were miles of open territory out there, just begging for somebody to cruise through them at full throttle. Harry shrugged. "What the hell," he said, and touched a button on his wrist communicator. "Yo, Double-X! I'm taking a couple hours off," he said. "Gotta check out the Hawg, give it a real shakedown. Anything comes up, you can handle it or make it wait until I'm back. Got it."
"Sure 'nuff, C. H.," came the raspy voice of Harry's Supply assistant. "Got it covered. Have a good ride!..-see you in a couple."
Harry nodded He knew he could trust Double- X not to mess up too seriously if something complicated came up in his absence. He pushed the starter button on the hover unit and listened critically as the antigrav units warmed up. Satisfied at the low purr, he mounted the bike and put on his helmet, then keyed the remote to open the Supply dump's delivery bay door. It slid noiselessly open. Harry edged the throttle up a notch, put the propulsion module into slow forward setting~ and edged the Hawg out the doorway into the late-morning sunlight.
A few legionnaires waved to the Supply sergeant as he came into sight on the hovercycle. Chocolate Harry grinned and waved back, then rolled his left wrist slightly, revving the engine just enough to remind the onlookers of the Hawg's power. A quick motion of the right hand, and he was in gear, soaring off into the desert in search of whatever adventures awaited him. Well, to tell the truth, there weren't usually any adventures, but out in the open air, it felt as if the chances were a lot better than at his desk in the Supply depot.
At first Harry took a familiar path-a broad, level swath where he could push the hovercycle close to its top speed without worrying about obstacles. He leaned forward, lowering his profile as the Hawg cut into the dry wind, enjoying the speed for its own sake. Out of the comer of his eye he could spot small desert animals belatedly scurrying out of the way of this noisy intruder. He'd never seen any living thing much bigger than the palm of his hand-there was nothing larger than that in this part of the planet, according to the Zenobians.
He came to a halt on a low rise, where he wheeled the bike around to get a look back toward the camp. The landscape around the Legion base was flat enough that even a slight hillock gave a long view in all directions. Harry normally didn't spend a great deal of time admiring the view, however. In his opinion, the desert landscape was just so much worthless real estate. Not even the locals had much use for it-as evidenced by the fact that they'd given it to the Legion for a base.
This time, though, there was something new in the picture. In the middle distance, just south of the Legion base, there was a green canopy-a tent of some sort, Harry realized. It only took a moment for him to remember the scuttlebutt he'd heard from the command office. Captain Jester had finally found out that all the support he'd gotten from his buddies in the State Department came with a hefty price tag: namely, giving a party of big-time politicos the run of the planet for hunting. Harry could have told him it was going to cost-in fact, he'd be surprised if this was the only payback in the deal.
Of course, that was only part of the story. Visitors from off-planet wouldn't have all the stuff they needed to handle local conditions. Chocolate Harry was just sure they'd have to have all sorts of supplemental provisions and supplies.