Them Bones

THE BOX VII

Smith’s Diary

I went to see Kilroy.

I told him the brass told us to come up with a real longterm plan. Not like the seventy-year plan we’d started with, the one more than a hundred people had worked on.

‘Great,’ he said, ‘just great. How long?’

‘At least five hundred years,’ I said.

‘I’m not going to be around that long, and neither will any of us.’

‘That’s just the kind of plan they want, Specialist,’ I said. ‘How do we go about setting up anything that’ll take half a millennium? What are we supposed to do, kidnap Indian kids, brainwash ’em, set up an operation that’ll elect Stevenson in ’52 rather than Eisenhower? Or what?’

‘If I’m supposed to figure all this out,’ said Kilroy, ‘why am I just a grunt? I thought only officers had that much foresight.

‘It’s not just for them,’ I said. ‘It’s for me too.’

‘It’s you?’ he asked. ‘You want me to come up with a five-hundred-year plan for you? While I pull bunker guard and shitburning detail? For your amusement, or what?’

‘To see if there’s any reason for keeping up this whole charade,’ I said.

He put down the bottle of Indian honey wine he’d been drinking from. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Free will versus determination? That kind of stuff?’

‘It’s not all of us, and everybody, anymore.’ I tried to make myself clear. ‘It’s just every one of us, alone. By ourselves. If there’s a plan, anything, it’ll be easier for all of us. Don’t you see?’

‘Yes. First thing is, we’ll have to make lots of babies. I’m ready!’

‘That’s pretty stupid, Kilroy,’ I said.

‘Probably. But for an officer, ma’am, you’ve got great legs.’

‘Uh,’ I said.

‘I’ll get on it,’ he said. ‘God knows I’ll have to think about this.’

I started to go. Then I said, ‘Thank you.’

‘That’s what I’m here for,’ he said. And made a fake smile. Then he added, ‘You’re the only one who really cares about any of this. Not just the mission but what happens to us.’

‘Shut up,’ I said. ‘Get some sleep.’ Then I left.