The Spectre General

XIV

Lieutenant Colonel Blick, acting commander of the 427th Light Maintenance Battalion of the Imperial Space Marines, stood at his office window and scowled down upon the whole civilized world, all twenty-six square kilometers of it. It had been a hard day. Three separate delegations of mothers had descended upon him demanding that he reopen the Tech Schools for the sake of their sanity. The recruits had been roaming the company streets in bands composed of equal numbers of small boys and large dogs creating havoc wherever they went. He tried to cheer himself up by thinking of his forthcoming triumph when he in the guise of the Inspector General would float magnificently down from the skies and once and for all put the seal of final authority upon the new order. The only trouble was that he was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that maybe that new order wasn’t all that he had planned it to be. As he thought of his own six banshees screaming through quarters, his suspicion deepened almost to certainty.

He wandered back to his desk and slumped behind it gloomily. He couldn’t backwater now, his pride was at stake. He glanced at the water clock on his desk, and then rose reluctantly and started toward the door. It was time to get into battle armor and get ready for the inspection.

As he reached the door, there was a sudden slap of running sandals down the hall. A second later, Major Kane burst into the office, his face white and terrified.

“Colonel,” he gasped, “the I.G.’s here!”

“Nonsense,” said Blick. “I’m the I.G. now!”

“Oh yeah?” whimpered Kane. “Go look out the window. He’s here, and he’s brought the whole Imperial fleet with him!”

Blick dashed to the window and looked up. High above, so high that he could see them only as silver specks, hung hundreds of ships.

“Headquarters does exist!” he gasped.

He stood stunned. What to do… what to do… what to do— The question swirled around in his brain until he was dizzy. He looked to Kane for advice, but the other was as bewildered as he was.

“Don’t stand there, man,” he stormed. “Do something!”

“Yes, sir,” said Kane. “What?”

Blick thought for a long, silent moment. The answer was obvious, but there was a short, fierce inner struggle before he could bring himself to accept it.

“Get Colonel Harris up here at once. He’ll know what we should do.”

A stubborn look came across Kane’s face. “We’re running things now,” he said angrily.

Blick’s face hardened and he let out a roar that shook the walls. “Listen, you pup, when you get an order, you follow it. Now get!”

Forty seconds later, Colonel Harris stormed into the office. “What kind of a mess have you got us into this time?” he demanded.

“Look up there, sir,” said Blick leading him to the window.

Colonel Harris snapped back into command as if he’d never left it.

“Major Kane!” he shouted.

Kane popped into the office like a frightened rabbit.

“Evacuate the garrison at once! I want everyone off the plateau and into the jungle immediately. Get litters for the sick and the veterans who can’t walk and take them to the hunting camps. Start the rest moving north as soon as you can.”

“Really, sir,” protested Kane, looking to Blick for a cue.

“You heard the colonel,” barked Blick. “On your way!” Kane bolted.

Colonel Harris turned to Blick and said in a frosty voice: “I appreciate your help, colonel, but I feel perfectly competent to enforce my own orders.”

“Sorry, sir,” said the other meekly. “It won’t happen again.”

Harris smiled. “O.K., Jimmie,” he said, “let’s forget it. We’ve got work to do!”