“Does that mean that I will be included?” Andre said.
Finn flicked her collar up with a finger, the side with the division insignia on it. “That makes it official,” he said. “Meanwhile, there’s still a part of your education that’s been sadly neglected.”
Andre frowned. “But I was assured that my programming was quite complete,” she said.
“All except for one thing,” said Finn, “and that’s something implant education can’t take care of. Now that you’re a soldier, you’re going to have to learn to drink like one.”
“Are you implying that I’m deficient in that department?” she said with a smile.
“Well, let’s say that you have yet to prove that you are not,” said Finn, chuckling.
“That sounds like a challenge.”
Finn grinned. “Name your poison,” he said.
Andre looked at him with amusement. She knew that Delaney was a prodigious drinker, but she also recalled that there was one drink in particular, preferred by Col. Forrester, that Delaney truly loathed. She hadn’t tried it, but she recalled Delaney saying that it took a deathwish and a cast-iron stomach to be able to stand it.
“Red Eye,” she said.
Delaney looked aghast. “Oh, no!”
Lucas burst out laughing. “Ten chits says she drinks you under the table,” he said.
“Okay, you’re on,” Delaney said. “Only let’s make it more interesting. If you want to collect, you’re going to have to match us drink for drink.”
“I think that I can make it still more interesting,” said Andre. “It’s been years since I’ve had a man and the last one left a great deal to be desired. We’ll all go drink for drink and if one of you wins, I’ll take him to bed.”
The two men raised their eyebrows and exchanged glances. “But suppose you win?” said Lucas. “Unlikely a possibility though that may be,” he added.
Andre smiled. “Then the two of you will pool your resources and purchase me the services of a Class 1 male courtesan.”
“A Class 1… Where in hell did you learn about that?” Delaney said. “They’re putting that kind of stuff in the programming?”
“My therapist at Colorado Springs seemed to think that I’d been sexually deprived,” said Andre. “She suggested that as a solution. The idea of a male whore intrigued me greatly and I told her that I would consider it. She said to ask for a Class 1, since they possessed the greatest level of skills.”
“Do you have any idea how much something like that would cost?” said Finn. “It takes years to achieve a Class l rating.”
“Well, you did say that you wanted to make the wager interesting,” she said.
“Of course, you realize that by bringing a Class 1 licensed courtesan into the wager, you’re placing a not inconsiderable value on yourself?” said Lucas, with a hint of amusement.
She replied with a straight face. “I always have,” she said.
Lucas chuckled. “Very well, I’m game. What about you Finn?”
“I’m still trying to decide if I can afford it,” said Delaney. “A major makes a great deal more than a noncom.”
“So who asked you to get busted so many goddamn times?” said Lucas. “I’ll tell you what: if Andre wins I’ll advance you whatever you’re short, at the usual rate of interest. How about it?”
“This could get very expensive,” said Delaney.
“Of course, if you think you’ll lose…” said Andre
“All right, I accept,” said Finn. “But on one condition. I name the time and place. When I collect, I want both of us to be cold sober.”
Finn and Lucas staggered into the briefing room, both of them terribly hung over. Delaney’s eyes looked like a map of the city’s transit system. Priest was afraid that he had destroyed his stomach lining. They found Andre already in the briefing room, drinking black coffee and looking remarkably invigorated and refreshed. She glanced up at them and smiled sweetly.
“Well?” she said. “Have I learned to drink like a soldier or do I still require practice?”
“That’s the last time I ever make a bet with you,” said Finn slowly lowering himself into a chair and signaling the orderly for a cup of coffee. Lucas sank into a chair on her other side.
“I still can’t believe she was sober enough to collect last night,” he said. He looked at Andre and shook his head, sadly. “Considering how much it must have cost, I hope you were at least clearheaded enough to remember the experience!”
“Oh, it was quite memorable,” she said, lightly. “It was fortunate for me that there was a female officer in the lounge last night who could assist me in making the selection. I explained our wager to her and she was delighted to help out. She examined your credit discs and programmed the credit transfer, then guided me in making a wise choice. I must say, I found it all absolutely fascinating. However, I had no idea that these courtesans were paid by the hour. It must be an extremely lucrative profession.”
Finn shut his eyes. “How long did you keep him?”
“Oh, all night, of course.”
Delaney put his head into his hands and moaned.
“Ten-tion!” called out the orderly as Col. Forrester entered the briefing room. Andre leapt to her feet and snapped to a smart attention. Lucas took considerably longer to rise and Delaney didn’t even bother, remaining slumped over in his chair with his head in his hands.
The massively built Forrester removed his cap from his bald head and looked them over, his craggy, wrinkled features contorting into a grimace of wry distaste.
“As you were,” he said, dryly. Andre and Lucas sat back down. “Corporal Fleming,” said Forrester.
“Yes, sir, I know,” said the orderly. He already had the hypogun prepared. Delaney winced as the corporal pressed the gun against his neck and injected the adrenergen soldiers had nicknamed “nitro” directly into his carotid artery.
“Christ!” Finn shouted as the “nitro” hammered into his brain. He jerked violently in his chair. His eyes rolled and he shivered as if with St. Vitus’s Dance.
The orderly approached Lucas with the hypogun, but Forrester stopped him, saying, “That’s all right, Corporal Fleming. As long as he can stand up on his own, he’s sober enough for me. Just bring the major some more coffee.”
“Yes, sir.” The corporal looked disappointed.
“Delaney?” Forrester said.
“Sir!”
“I swear, I think you’re starting to like that stuff. Do you think we can proceed now?”
“Fuck, yes!”
“A simple ‘yes, sir’ would have been sufficient.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Sit down and shut up, Delaney. And try not to shake like a monkey on a stick. It’s most distracting.”
Delaney sat back down, holding the arms of his chair with a death grip. He tried to control the flow of energy, but he still continued to vibrate like an epileptic.
Forrester glanced at Andre and smiled. “Glad you’ve joined us, Private Cross. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Think you’re ready for a mission?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. This one should provide a decent shakedown for you. I shouldn’t think you’d have much trouble, after the Timekeeper affair. This one should be quite simple compared to that.”
“I’ll do my very best, sir.”
Fob nodded. “Priest, you all right?”
“Just a bit hung over, sir.”
“That must have been some celebration last night,” said Forrester. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
“We’ll give you a rain check on another one as soon as we get back, sir,” Lucas said. “I’d sort of like to see you and Private Cross hoist a few together. She drinks Red Eye as if it were iced tea.”
“Really? Well, it’s nice to know that there’s at least one person in this unit who can hold her liquor. How much did you lose?”
“I’d rather not say, sir.”
“That bad?” Forrester chuckled. “You and I will have to sit down to some serious elbow-bending, Cross. I don’t think that these two amateurs are in our class “
“Anytime, sir,” said Andre. “It will be my pleasure.”
“Good, it’s a date. Now let’s get down to business, shall we?” Forrester went up to the podium console and leaned against it. “You people will be happy to know that you’ll be fairly autonomous on this mission,” he said, “meaning that you won’t have the Temporal Intelligence Agency to contend with.”