The bears didn’t fight that way. They generally let their dead warriors stay dead. They didn’t believe in reviving their fallen, seeing them as failures. Eventually, this tradition led to a loss of morale and an urge to flee.

  Whatever the cause, we pushed and pushed, we killed, and we killed. It took days, but at last, the bears got back into their ships. They left half their troops dead on the ground behind them, and they took off flying back to the stars.

  Word had it they took a whole lot of Mogwa-meat home with them, but I couldn’t swear to that part.

  -56-

  When it was all over and done with, you might have thought that someone would pin a medal on old McGill—but you’d have thought wrong. Like I’ve always said, there are heroic deeds in war—and then there are those who take the credit for them.

  In this case the line was long and illustrious. People like Graves, Primus Collins, Jink and me—we were at the very rear of that long, long line.

  As it turned out, Tribune Kraus had crowded to the front of the pack. Now, it was the God’s-honest truth that old Kraus had been dead or at least missing in action throughout much of the dramatic finish, but the brass assumed that everything that went right had been his idea.

  In fact, shocker of shockers, it was discovered that orders predating my trip to Blood World had been written by Tribune Kraus. These documents outlined the use of the gremlins in precisely the fashion I’d pioneered. The proof was irrefutable.

  When all this came to light, there were naturally a lot of narrowed eyes and muttered conversations. Some discontents in my cohort and others dared to complain openly.

  I wasn’t among them. I laughed the whole thing off, suggesting that none of it mattered. We’d won the battle and saved the day. That was good enough. The newspeople back on Earth wanted heroes, and Legion Victrix looked like heroes. That was just how things tended to go.

  As to what Earth decided to do about the gremlins, well, that part was sketchy.

  “McGill?” Graves said, coming to my tent while I was taking a well-earned nap. “McGill!”

  I rolled out of my bunk, scratching and groaning.

  Graves looked me over. He nodded in approval. “You fought well out there.”

  “Thank you, Primus.”

  He hesitated, but I didn’t ask him why he’d come. I knew he’d get around to it. The fact he wasn’t talking right off indicated it was something bad—so I had a doubly good reason to keep quiet.

  “McGill… there’s an issue. With the gremlins.”

  “How’s that, sir?”

  “Did you promise them they could take the Mogwa power-armor home with them?”

  So there it was. Jink had gone to the top officers and put in his claim. I’d kind of hoped all that would have gone away by now.

  My jaw sagged, and my eyes flew wide. “What now? That’s just crazy-talk, sir.”

  “Are you sure? The gremlins seem pretty adamant about it.”

  I laughed and stretched. “I know old Jink pretty well by now. We’ve killed a thousand bears if we’ve killed a single cub. You’ve got to know how the gremlin sense of humor works, see.”

  Graves squinted at me. I could tell he didn’t know what to think. That meant my lies were working better than usual on him today.

  He heaved a sigh. “We kind of thought it might be a power-play by the gremlins. Disappointing. We fought so well together.”

  “Uh… we sure did. What are you thinking about doing to resolve the issue, sir?”

  Graves shook his head. “There’s no way the brass will let them march machines back to Blood World. They’ll start a revolution, or a coup, or something. Besides, the Mogwa want their machines back. If these little monsters would only see reason…”

  My neck was feeling itchy, so I gave myself a good scratch. I shrugged and looked at Graves, who was clearly troubled. I didn’t like to see that. He wasn’t a man who was troubled by walking over a stack of his own dead corpses. Whatever was going on inside his brain—it had to be something real bad.

  “Drusus wants you to do it,” he said at last, looking back up at me.

  “How’s that, sir?”

  He pointed a finger at me. “You heard me. Go to the gremlin camp. Talk to Jink—and kill him.”

  That floored me. I’d expected a dozen different things, but not that. My jaw set in a line, and I frowned back at him. We stared for a few long seconds. Finally, I shook my head.

  “I pass.”

  “What?” Graves asked in disbelief.

  “I’m not doing it. You can demote me, or shoot me… I don’t care. I fought with those nasty little bastards for days. They’re human, you know—sort of. They’re kind of like primitives. Like some offshoot of our line that died out thousands of years ago—but they’re still men. I’m not killing my comrade in arms as a final ending to this whole shitty campaign.”

  Graves sighed. He reached to his belt and drew his pistol. He aimed it at me.

  “Aw now, seriously?” I complained.

  “Let me get this straight, you’re refusing to follow a direct order from your direct superior?”

  “Yessir. In this rare instance, I’m doing exactly that.”

  Graves and I glared at each other for a few seconds. Neither one of us wanted to back down. We’d never seen eye-to-eye at moments like this. To Graves’ way of thinking, an order was an order, and you either followed it, or your life wasn’t worth spit.

  But at last, to my surprise, Graves holstered his pistol again. He heaved a weary sigh. “All right, fine. I’ll do it myself.”

  “What? Uh… sir?”

  But I was talking to his back. He walked out and left me thinking hard. A part of me was regretting making big, bold promises to the gremlins. Promises that I couldn’t keep. Maybe I should have bargained a bit more, or gotten the brass onboard with some of it.

  Stretching out on my bunk, I decided that was all foolish thinking. I’d been in desperate straits. Arguing with the Blood Worlders or with headquarters would only have wasted valuable time. I’d taken the initiative, and I’d gotten the impossible done. After such success, there was no point in second-guessing the details.

  At last, I fell asleep. Hours later, I was awakened again by a boot in my ribs.

  I rolled up, snarling, and I found an angry-looking Primus Graves glaring at me. His hair was kind of… drippy.

  “You tipped them off, didn’t you?” he growled.

  “Huh?”

  “The gremlins, you moron. They were waiting for me. Jink talked as if it was all a big misunderstanding, he said it was all a mistake. While he spoke, one of his little frigging sidekicks snuck up on me.”

  “Ohhh… you didn’t… like… do a little dance did you, sir?”

  He glared at me. “I sure as hell did.”

  Looking down, I saw his pistol was there, in a white-knuckled grip. I shook my head.

  “Sir, I fell asleep after you left. I didn’t send any messages to any gremlins.”

  “I know. I checked. But I also know you’re tricky.”

  “Come on, sir. I wouldn’t set you up to be killed and laughed at—they did laugh, right?”

  “They sure as fuck did!”

  I nodded. “Right, right,” I said, suppressing a grin. “That’s kind of a tradition with them, see. They’re a hard people to like.”

  “I don’t see how you could stand working with them for days on end in close quarters. The McGill I know would have gone ape and killed them all within hours.”

  Raising my nose high, I sniffed. “Maybe I’ve matured a bit, sir. What with all my long years of life and experiences.”

  “Bullshit.” Grumbling, he put his gun away, then he stalked out again.

  I followed and caught him outside. “Uh… sir? What happened to the gremlins?”

  “They took off. Almost all of them did, anyway. I guess they went back to Blood World. But they did leave me something. A note for you. That’s why I figured maybe you tipped them off.”

  After a bit of wrangling, he gave it to me. I opened it up and read it.

  You owe me, big-man.

  That was all it said.

  “Huh…” I said.

  Graves was peering at me again. “What do you owe them? What deal did you make, McGill? They had to be fighting for something.”

  I thought it over, and I finally remembered with a jolt. I snapped my fingers. “Floramel…”

  “What? Who…? Oh… that’s right. That tall chick from Rogue World. You were sweet on her, right? But wasn’t she permed years back?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “She’s dead and gone. But the Blood Worlders are sad about that. They want me to bring back her ashes to spread around in their deserts.”

  Graves was squinting at me. He was squinting real hard. “They’re sad, huh? Those tiny psychopaths are feeling low about Floramel? This whole thing smells like Georgia horseshit, McGill.”

  “A fine earthy scent, sir. I know it well.”

  Snorting, Graves left me in peace at last. I had trouble falling asleep again, but I managed it after a few minutes.

  -57-

  The next day found me in high spirits. Sure, I hadn’t gotten a medal, but the gremlins had cleared out without killing me for lying to them, and the whole legion was going home in a few days.

  Our fleet rode the skies over City World, and it felt good to see those ships up there. The Mogwa citizens who’d survived the war—something like half of them—were out and about in spacer suits, cleaning things up. They weren’t a very brave people, but they were industrious. I suspected they’d have their city patched up and spic-and-span inside of a year.

  Now and then, I saw the Mogwa turn their gaze skyward. They marveled at Earth’s fleet, and that was a fine thing to see.

  Primus Collins came to talk to me at lunch, which was held outdoors on a scorched terrace. The spot had once been the Mogwa equivalent of a shopping mall, but we’d commandeered it for legion use.

  “McGill?” Collins said. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Pull up a chair, sir!”

  She did so, and she put down a tray of food opposite me. We blinked in the sunshine. I was smiling—but she wasn’t. She seemed troubled.

  “Uh… what’s this all about, sir? Don’t tell me one of my after-action reports is missing.”

  She snorted. “Hardly. I hear you rarely turn those in unless one of your adjuncts writes it for you.”

  “Hmm… yeah. That’s pretty much how it goes.”

  We ate in silence for a bit. I could tell she had more to say, but I also knew that women would always get around to telling you what was on their minds eventually. You never had to push for that.

  “McGill… I feel kind of guilty.”

  “How’s that, sir?”

  “Did you know I’ve been offered a post in Victrix?”

  I looked up at her, blinking in surprise. I forced a smile. “That’s great—assuming you want to go, that is.”

  She shrugged and poked at her food with a fork. She hadn’t eaten much, and I was already scheming a way to get my hooks onto her tray.

  “I do want the transfer,” she said at last. “I’m taking it, in fact. Who wouldn’t?”

  I shrugged.

  “I’m feeling guilty because… well, because I can’t help but think you should have the position. Not me. You set up the winning tactic with the gremlins. I just helped organize things.”

  “Did you try to tell anyone that?”

  Her face twitched. It was the fastest half-smile in history.

  I laughed. “You sure as hell didn’t, did you? You didn’t want to blow it, right? Your ticket out of Varus? But now, you’re feeling guilty. Who would have thought it?”

  She sighed. “Look, I’ve come here to talk to you about it. To offer you my spot, if you want it. I’ll tell them—I’ll sell you to Kraus. I’ll do that, if you want me to.”

  My jaw hit my chest. “Really? You’d do that for me? You hate me.”

  “Yeah, well… I don’t like injustice.”

  “Hmm… well, fortunately for you, I don’t want to leave Varus.”

  “You don’t?” she asked in surprise.

  “Nope. Just think about it. How would Victrix enjoy working with old McGill? I’d be drawn-and-quartered by Friday, then court-martialed on Sunday morning.”

  She burst out laughing. “It would only take a few weeks, I bet.”

  “That’s right. Victrix and me—we’re not a good fit. So you enjoy your transfer. I wish you well.”

  She smiled, and it was a real smile this time. “Thanks,” she said, and her hand strayed across the table. She put it over mine, and she gave me a quick squeeze.

  I ate quietly with her for another minute or so, finishing up my breakfast. “But we have something else to talk about,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “How you’re going to repay this debt you’ve been talking about.”

  It was her turn to stare at me, open-mouthed. “What? Are you—?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. You took credit for my ideas. You sold yourself hard to Victrix. You got what you wanted.”

  “Yeah, but you said you were cool with that.”

  I nodded. “Right, I’m not trying to stop you. But we’re talking about some repayment, here. One favor deserves another—or maybe two, since this was a big one.”

  “Two? Two favors?” She blew her bangs up with a puff of air. “All right. Tell me, what do you have in mind?”

  “You’re agreeing?”

  “Certainly not. Not until I hear these ideas of yours.”

  “Wise… wise. Okay, first off, you should insist on taking Adjunct Barton with you to Victrix.”

  She looked confused. Of all the things I could have asked for, I could tell this wasn’t even on her list.

  “Adjunct Barton…? That stern woman, your light platoon commander?”

  “The very same. She’s my best officer, and you know how good she is. You’ve seen her in action.”

  Collins thought it over and nodded. “All right. But why? I mean, if she’s your best, why would you want to let her go?”

  I shrugged. “Because she wants to go. Are you willing to do it?”

  “If they’ll let me.”

  I shook my head. “Not good enough. You have to insist. It’s both of you, or nothing.”

  She rubbed at her neck, and she looked around. I knew she was probably thinking of ways she could get out of the deal if she had to—but I knew she’d at least try.

  “All right. I agree. What else?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said there were two favors, James. I’m not leaving anything hanging over my head. When I leave Varus, I want a clean break.”

  “Oh yeah. The other thing.”

  I stopped talking, and I looked at her. I smiled. I smiled big.

  It took a few seconds for her to catch on. After she did, she fussed a bit, but she also looked kind of flattered. In truth, I suspected that’s what she’d wanted all along.

  The rest of the day went pretty well, and after we were off-duty, I visited Primus Collins in her private quarters. We had a great night together. We had such a good time, in fact, I regretted she was planning to ditch old Legion Varus the minute we got back to Earth.

  -58-

  When I woke up the next morning, I was in a fine mood. The birds were singing in my head—but not in reality, as City World didn’t seem to have any birds. They had some gigantic flying insects, but that really wasn’t the same.

  Breakfast came and went, and Primus Collins was called away by the end of it. I’d learned her first name was Cherish—a really sweet name for such a ball-buster of a woman—but I didn’t call her that in public.

  Still, despite our half-hearted efforts to keep our new found romance under wraps, people noticed.

  Leeson was up and around again now that the fleet was in orbit, and we were running our revival machines at full capacity. He came to congratulate me the moment Primus Collins left.

  “Bagging new game these days, McGill?”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  He was grinning at me. I tried to play ignorant, but I soon gave up. I knew it wasn’t going to work this time. I frowned at him instead. “Mind your own business, Leeson. You’re just one step from being dead again.”

  “I’m kind of glad I didn’t experience these last few days. I’m going to call it a forced vacation. There was some hard fighting involved, according to every report. I don’t even like gremlins… or the Mogwa, for that matter.”

  “Yeah. It was rough.” In my mind recent events were replayed. I saw fire, smoke, blood and thousands of permed Mogwa citizens.

  “Say, how did Gary work out? As my replacement?”

  “He did okay. At first, he was pissing his pants, but he got over that eventually.”

  “Harris was telling me about one death he saw—”

  “Yeah, yeah, shut up about that. Harris likes seeing other people die too much.”

  Leeson laughed and walked away. I was glad to be left alone—but it didn’t last for long. The next person to pester me was Gary himself. He’d changed somewhat, I could see it in his eyes. They were dark and a little bit haunted.

  “Sir? Can I talk to you?”

  “You sure can,” I told him.

  He took a chair and leaned forward. He glanced around, and when he saw no one else was listening, he started talking.

  I was already bored, but I let him talk. He obviously had something he thought was important on his mind.

  “Sir, there have been rumors going around that Adjunct Barton is leaving your unit.”

  “That’s unofficial and unapproved. I’m surprised to hear you go in for gossip, Adjunct.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not interested for that reason, sir. I’m concerned because there’s another rumor floating.”