Soldiers

2912.07.13/16:27G

OSP to AMS Nairobi; copy all AMS program labs

Subject(s): Foulbrood project

Kanika, given the update by Marijka on the venom project (shudder), and by Issa on the fecundity project (shiver), I certainly hope you folks are making good progress.

– Benny

Encrypted pulse OSPCO

OSP to all AMS program labs

Subject(s): NSS 12

At 03:05G this date, NSS 12 reported passing the halfway point (eccentricity 1.06) to Tagus. Looks good so far, but don't depend on it.

– Debbie C.

"Excuse me," said Major General Pyong Pak Singh, and took the call on his privacy receiver. "Pak," he said.

"Sir, this is WO-3 Kiefer." Yolanda Kiefer sounded very young, something he hadn't gotten used to. She was older than he was. "Dierdre just brought a message from War House," she went on. "About two minutes' worth. I can read it to you if you'd like."

A savanted message. "Just a moment, Kiefer," he said, and turned to his visitor, Mayor Ritala of nearby North Fork. "This will take perhaps two minutes."

The Luneburgian nodded.

"Read it to me," Pak said. "I'm ready."

"From Lieutenant General Titu Cioculescu, deputy chief of staff, Commonwealth Army." Cioculescu, Pak thought, impressed. Lefty Sarruf's right hand. "To Major General Pyong Pak Singh, commander, New Jerusalem Liberation Corps. Greeting. When you have reached New Jerusalem, you will provide War House with three Wyzhnyny prisoners alive and unwounded. Do not rely on serendipity. Develop a plan, and train teams accordingly. You will be informed later on how the prisoners are to be processed. Personnel will be provided to handle and transport them. You will be further informed as appropriate.

"(signed) Cioculescu."

Frowning, Pak pursed thin lips. "Thank you, Kiefer. Is that it?"

"Yes, General."

"I'll answer him when I've seen it in writing."

Reaching, the general disconnected, wondering what War House wanted with prisoners. It seemed highly improbable they had a translation program for whatever language the Wyzhnyny spoke, or whistled, or gestured, or however they did it. It didn't occur to him that the questions might have originated from an agency he'd never heard of: the Office of Special Projects. And that the answers would come not from questioning, but from chromatographs and other tests.

He turned to his visitor. "Mayor Ritala, I appreciate that your merchants would like my troops to come into town more often, and I'm glad their behavior meets with your approval. But we are on Pastor Luneburger's World to train, preparing to fight a very dangerous foe. The present schedule of passes on alternate Sevendays will have to suffice, and at any rate it's about as often as their very modest pay permits." He paused. "Is there anything else?"

The general's voice held a tone of dismissal; his closing question was clearly rhetorical, a courtesy. A thought passed through the mayor's mind: to invite the general to his home for Sevenday dinner. But somehow he didn't. This soldier was too single-minded for that.

It also occurred to him that single-mindedness was desirable in generals, given the circumstances the human species found itself in.