“Yes,” I said, wondering what kind of snake pit we’d dropped into. “We can build you an army. I assume that you will allow us to handle our own recruiting?”
“Absolutely out of the question,” Frida thundered, furiously. It did interesting things to her jumper. “You have to take the people we send you for training.”
“Not everyone who volunteers will be suitable,” Peter put in, from his position. “We may only accept a hundred out of a thousand volunteers. The training course is intended to separate the men from the brats and it does that extremely well.”
Frida scowled at him. I could almost read her thoughts. If the Progressives had supplied most of the Army, it would be loyal to them, although I doubted it. Soldiers don’t get to indulge in wishful thinking and the training program was designed to help recruits separate wishful thinking from proper thinking. A politically-neutral army might be harder to accomplish, but it was what the President needed. It might even be able to disarm the factions and put an end to the threat of civil war.
“You can open up recruiting booths in the cities,” the President said, firmly, “but you will give all the recruits a firm chance.”
“Of course,” I said. We always did, after all. “What other military resources are available?”
All eyes turned to General Fredriksson. “The Militia is formed largely from former resistance men,” he admitted, slowly. He looked ashamed, somehow. “In theory, we have ten thousand ready and willing to serve. In practice, half of them are permanently unavailable or absent without leave. What I have left is a light infantry force with only limited training, given by a handful of UN deserters. It isn’t suitable for anything other than light patrolling and I can’t send it into… political situations.”
He rubbed his bald dome. “We have a large dump of military supplies that the UN left behind when they pulled out,” he added. “Some of it got stolen before we managed to secure it all, but the remainder is at your disposal. It wasn’t as if we had a use for tanks and armoured fighting vehicles. A UN officer offered to raise an armoured regiment for us, but we refused his offer. It wasn’t as if we needed it.”
“I’ll inspect that later,” I said, firmly. I’d have to make sure that the UN hadn’t left the gear behind because it was useless, or because they’d decided to leave a few unpleasant surprises behind when they left. If nothing had blown up by now, it probably wouldn’t, but it always paid to be careful. “How long do we have to prepare the army?”
The President looked around the room. “The elections are in six months,” he said, grimly. “We need a deterring force by then.”
“Yes, Mr President,” I said. I doubted that the force would deter anyone. I’d have to study the history of the planet myself, but if there were two conflicting ideologies involved — with lots of weapons to boot — we’d probably end up with a war anyway. If Fleet’s intelligence was accurate, and it normally was, the two sides literally couldn’t get along without each other. It was going to be the worst kind of war. “With your permission, then, I will start shipping my people down to the surface.”
Frida smiled. “And the recruiting?”
“It will start a week from today,” I said, carefully. I thought we could secure the spaceport and work out the details quicker than that, but it never hurt to have extra time to work with, if we needed it. I also wanted to study the planet more carefully. “I trust that that is acceptable?”
“Yes, thank you,” the President said. For a moment, he looked very tired and old. “Ask for anything you need and it’ll be sent to you. We’ll talk later, Andrew.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, standing up and saluting. “There’s no point in wasting time.”
“Interesting set-up,” Muna said, when we were back in the car. Peter checked all three of us with a counter-surveillance tool he picked up on Heinlein. The President and his men were surprisingly trusting. They hadn’t tried to bug us… unless, of course, they had access to better bugging tech than we had countermeasures. I doubted that that was possible, but it was well to be careful. “It’s just like home.”
The edgy flat tone in her voice brought me up short. I still knew almost nothing about her, but one thing I did know was that she never wanted to go home. I had a suspicion I knew why, as well; I’d seen her naked once and she was scarred in places that had made me want to hunt down the person who’d done that and cut him into tiny pieces.
“They’re going to tear that poor man apart,” she continued, unaware of my thoughts. “This coming election will certainly tip off the civil war, whoever wins. I don’t think coming here was a good idea, boss.”
“Maybe not,” I agreed, and grinned. “Look on it as a challenge.”
Peter snorted. “A challenge,” he said. Muna’s snort was even louder, somehow. I doubted she saw it quite the same way I did. “Someone will probably write that on your tombstone.”
I laughed and keyed my wristcom. “Johan, this is Andrew,” I said. “You may begin the unloading now. Contact the William Tell and invite them to send inspectors if they wish, but tell them that we cannot delay to suit them. If they push it, agree — reluctantly.”
“Yes, sir,” Johan said. He’d been a former UNPF officer himself and there were times when I suspected that he was a Fleet spy watching us. How else would we have gotten to keep the Julius Caesar, a former UNPF Infantry transport? “We’ll commence the unloading now.”
“And tell Ed that I want A Company to land first and secure the spaceport,” I added. “I want the entire place checked completely before we start training operations.” I broke the link and smiled at Peter. “Shall we go earn what we’re being paid?”
Chapter Three
According to UNPF regulations, all spaceports and other service facilities have to be located at least twenty kilometres from any major habitation, for safety concerns. Officially, they worry about the safety of civilians, but unofficially they worry about preventing insurgents from getting close enough to attack the base.
The spaceport, when we returned, was a hive of activity. Captain Stalker had landed A Company in three shuttles and ordered the spaceport secured, before we landed anything else. A team of armed soldiers met us at the entrance and insisted on checking our ID, even though they recognised us. I’d have disciplined them if they’d done anything else. The UN’s enemies had proved adroit at using the UN’s weaknesses against it before. It wouldn’t be long before someone on the planet tried to sneak into the spaceport.
Ed saluted when we finally caught up with him. “Sir,” he said. “We have secured the outer limits of the spaceport and are sweeping through the interior buildings. So far, we’ve located all of the barracks and enough equipment to keep a brigade functioning for years. We haven’t found any unpleasant surprises so far.”
“Good,” I said. Back on Heinlein, it had been a persistent worry that the defenders would mine the spaceport with nuclear bombs, detonating them when the invasion force tried to land. Here, with Fleet controlling the spaceport, I doubted that there would be any real threat, but it was worth checking. Start as you mean to go on, as my old Sergeant would have said. “Is there anything else to report?”
“No, sir,” Ed said. “I believe that Captain Price-Jones intends to have a few words with you, but he’s still on his ship.”