"Corporal," Szilard said. "Tell me, what have you heard about the situation over Coral?"
"Not very much, sir," I said. "Just conversations with friends."
"Really," Szilard said, dryly. "I would think your friend Private Wilson would have given you a comprehensive briefing by now."
I was beginning to realize that my poker face, never very good, was even less so these days. "Yes, of course we know about Private Wilson," Szilard said. "You might want to tell him that his snooping around is not nearly as subtle as he thinks it is."
"Harry will be surprised to hear it," I said.
"No doubt," Szilard said. "I also have no doubt he's also appraised you on the nature of the Special Forces soldiers. It's not a state secret, incidentally, although we don't put information on the Special Forces in the general database. Most of our time is spent on missions that require strict secrecy and confidentiality. We have very few opportunities to spend much time with the rest of you. Not much inclination either."
"General Szilard and Special Forces are taking the lead on our counterattack on the Rraey at Coral," General Keegan said. "While we intend to take the planet, our immediate concern is to isolate their tachyon detection apparatus, disable it without destroying it if we can, but destroy it if we must. Colonel Golden here"—Keegan motioned to a somber-looking man next to Newman—"believes we know where it is. Colonel."
"Very briefly, Corporal," Golden said. "Our surveillance before the first attack on Coral showed the Rraey deploying a series of small satellites in orbits around Coral. At first we thought them to be spy satellites to help the Rraey identify Colonial and troop movement on the planet, but now we think it's an array designed to spot tachyon patterns. We believe the tracking station, which compiles the data from the satellites, is on the planet itself, landed there during the first wave of the attack."
"We think it's on the planet because they figure it's safest there," General Szilard said. "If it were on a ship, there's a chance an attacking CDF ship might hit it, if only by sheer luck. And as you know, no ship but your shuttle got anywhere close to the Coral surface. It's a good bet it's there."
I turned to Keegan. "May I ask a question, sir."
"Go ahead," Keegan said.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "I'm a corporal with no squad, platoon or battalion. I can't see why I should need to know this."
"You need to know this because you're one of the few survivors of the Battle of Coral, and the only one that survived by something more than chance," Keegan said. "General Szilard and his people believe, and I agree, that their counterattack has a better chance of succeeding if someone who was there in the first attack advises and observes the second. That means you."
"With all due respect, sir," I said. "My participation was minimal and disastrous."
"Less disastrous than almost everyone else's," Keegan said. "Corporal, I won't lie to you—I'd prefer we'd have someone else in this role. However, as it stands, we do not. Even if the amount of advice and service you can give is minimal, it is better than nothing at all. Besides, you've shown the ability to improvise and act quickly in combat situations. You will be of use."
"What would I do?" I asked. Keegan glanced over to Szilard.
"You'd be stationed on the Sparrowhawk," Szilard said. "They represent the Special Forces with the most experience in this particular situation. Your job would be to advise the Sparrowhawk senior staff on your experience at Coral, observe, and act as liaison between CDF regular forces and Special Forces if one is required."
"Would I fight?" I asked.
"You're a supernumerary," Szilard said. "You would most likely not be required to participate in the actual engagement."
"You understand that this assignment is highly unusual," Keegan said. "As a practical matter, due to differences in mission and in personnel, regular CDF and Special Forces are almost never mixed. Even in battles in which the two forces are engaged against a single enemy, both tend to perform separate and mutually exclusive roles."
"I understand," I said. I understood more than they knew. Jane was stationed on the Sparrowhawk.
As if following my train of thought, Szilard spoke up. "Corporal, I do understand that you had an incident with one of my people—one stationed on the Sparrowhawk. I need to know that there will be no other incidents like that one."
"Yes, sir," I said. "The incident was over a misunderstanding. A case of mistaken identity. It won't happen again."
Szilard nodded to Keegan. "Very well," Keegan said. "Corporal, given your new role, I think your rank is deficit to the task. You are hereby promoted to lieutenant, effective immediately, and will present yourself to Major Crick, CO of the Sparrowhawk, at 1500. That should give you enough time to get your things in order and say your good-byes. Any questions?"
"No, sir," I said. "But I have one request."
"Not the usual thing," Keegan said, after I had finished. "And in other circumstances—in both cases—I would say no."
"I understand, sir," I said.
"However, it will be arranged. And some good might come out of it. Very well, Lieutenant. You're dismissed."
Harry and Jesse met me as soon as they could after I messaged them. I told them of my assignment and promotion.
"You think Jane engineered this," Harry said.
"I know she did," I said. "She told me she had. As it happens, I may actually turn out to be useful in some way. But I'm sure she planted a bug in someone's ear. I'm on my way in just a few hours."
"We're being broken up again," Jesse said. "And what's left of Harry's and my platoon is being split up, too. Our platoon mates are getting assignments to other ships. We're waiting to hear our own assignments."
"Who knows, John," Harry said. "We'll probably be back at Coral with you."
"No, you won't," I said. "I asked General Keegan to advance you both out of general infantry and he agreed. Your first term of service is done. You've both been reassigned."
"What are you talking about?" Harry said.
"You've been reassigned to CDF's Military Research arm," I said. "Harry, they knew about you snooping around. I convinced them you'd do less harm to yourself and others this way. You're going to work on whatever we bring back from Coral."
"I can't do that," Harry said. "I don't have the math for it."
"I'm sure you won't let that stop you," I said. "Jesse, you're going to MR, too, on the support staff. It's all I could get you on short notice. It's not going be very interesting, but you can train for other roles while you're there. And you'll both be out of the line of fire."
"This isn't right, John," Jesse said. "We haven't served our time. Our platoon mates are going back out to fight while we'll be sitting here for something we didn't do. You're going back out there. I don't want this. I should serve my time." Harry nodded.
"Jesse, Harry, please," I said. "Look. Alan is dead. Susan and Thomas are dead. Maggie is dead. My squad and my platoon are all gone. Everyone I've ever cared about out here is gone but you two. I had a chance to keep you two alive and I took it. I couldn't do anything for anyone else. I can do something for you. I need you to be alive. You're all I have out here."
"You have Jane," Jesse said.
"I don't know what Jane is to me yet," I said. "But I know what you are to me. You're my family now. Jesse, Harry. You're my family. Don't be angry with me for wanting to keep you safe. Just be safe. For me. Please."
FIFTEEN