"I know what you mean," said Phule, with a quiet smile. "Day-to-day life in the military actually tends to be pretty boring..." He looked at the expression on

Rembrandt's face, and added, "Well, maybe this company is an exception."

"I consider that rather an understatement, sir," said Beeker, his eyebrows raised.

Rembrandt cleared her throat. "Perhaps we ought to let Thumper finish what he's saying, sir," she said.

"Ahh, of course you're right, Lieutenant," said Phule. "Please, Thumper, tell us what you were about to say. Sorry for the interruption."

Thumper's ears twitched, and he looked open-eyed first at Rembrandt, then at Phule. "I was going to ask how I could get out of the Legion and go back home," he said. "Everything that's happened to me since basic training had convinced me I'd made a really bad mistake. But I think I just changed my mind. I mean, I never heard an officer admit he was wrong about something, or apologize to an enlisted legionnaire. I've gotta think about this. So if you don't mind, I think I'll withdraw my request to speak to you, sir."

"All right, Legionnaire Thumper," said Phule, carefully. He hadn't seen much of the little Lepoid in action-just that one incredible burst of speed in the dining hall-but he'd read the report from Sergeant Pitbull, who'd been Thumper's drill instructor in basic. Pitbull's report was obviously phrased so as not to set off too many alarms if a certain Someone in Legion Headquarters happened to see it, but reading between the lines, it was full of praise for the diminutive recruit. Maybe Headquarters had done Omega Company a favor without intending to do so. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened. He chuckled, then added, "Go look around the company and see if you like what you see. If you still want to get out of here after you've had a good look at us, I'll make sure nobody stops you. But give us a chance. I have the idea you might fit into this company better than you think."

"I'll give you a fair chance if you'll give me the same, sir," said Thumper, coming to attention and saluting with a crispness that reminded Phule that the recruit was fresh out of basic.

Phule returned the salute, and added a smile. "You've got a deal, Thumper."

"Somebody remind me where we were before the roof fell in," said Sushi. It was early in the evening after the food fight in the mess hall, and there was a prominent shiner under Sushi's right eye, where a too-enthusiastically thrown apple had nailed him. He'd gone to the autodoc, which had dispensed a couple of pain pills and a tube of cream that would take down the swelling, but the discoloration would still last a couple of days.

"Tryin' to learn how these here Zenobians can write before they can talk," said Rev, who'd fallen to the floor early and managed to avoid being hit by anything solid during the food fight. "And, to get right back to square number one, tryin to find out somethin' about this here character name of 'L'VlZ in their mythology, which is what got me started on this whole fuss and botheration."

"Yo, Rev, you really think there's some kinda connection?" asked Do-Wop. He'd somehow managed to avoid any damage other than a thoroughly besmirched uniform, despite being one of the prime instigators and most active participants in the mess hall fracas. "I mean, the dinos and humans never even met until just a couple-three years ago. Don't make sense that they'd know squat about your guy, the King. What d'you think, Soosh?"

"It seems far-fetched to me, too," Sushi admitted. "But tell me, Rev-why haven't you just asked Flight Leftenant Qual what it's about? He's got to know."

"Sure he does," said Rev. "In fact, I tried 'xactly that, and the little leftenant clammed up quicker than a politician on the witness stand. The long and short of it is, I gotta find out on my own."

"All right, I guess that makes sense," said Sushi. "It just doesn't sound like Qual to me. But what if it does turn out that the Zenobians had their own analog of the King? It'd be the most sensational discovery since it turned out the Synthians have a game exactly like human chess, only with a nine-by-nine board and an extra piece on each side, and the pawns reverse direction when they reach the back row, instead of promoting. Who could resist the chance to be in on a discovery like that?"

"Me for one, if they were givin' away free beer across the street," said Do-Wop. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Rev-doin' this job is way better than KP, or nighttime guard duty. But I don't think it makes a whole bunch of difference how it turns out, y'know?" Rev looked at Do- Wop with one eyebrow arched.

"Well, Do-Wop, if this here project don't move you, I could always cut you loose. 'Course, if you were hangin' out in the parade ground doin' nothin' in particular, ol' Beeker might remember just who it was who was flingin' the cheese sauce that got allover the captain's uniform. I won't claim I've had to pull any strings to keep you off'n some kind of punishment duty, but it could happen, y'know. It could happen."

"Aw, c'mon, Rev," whined Do-Wop. "You know the captain wouldn't do that to me. He's a laid-back dude..."

"Sure," said Rev, shrugging. Then he added, with a hint of significance, "But Beeker jes' might be the kind to hold a grudge."

"You think so?" asked Do-Wop, now visibly worried. "Jeez-I wonder if there's any way I could make him forget about what was goin' on there..."

"Why don't you jes' let me take care of it, son?" Rev put his hand on Do-Wop's shoulder and spoke in his most sympathetic voice. "The captain knows I don't have no kind of ax to grind, except maybe to see that the King's good people get treated fair and square. You do a good job for me, and I'll make sure nobody ever says boo to you."

Sushi chuckled. "And if my buddy joins the Church of the King, you'll make double sure nobody bothers him, right?" he said, with a knowing grin.

"Why, Sushi! I'm surprised you would suggest such a thing," said Rev. "Everybody in Omega Company is my concern, you know that."

"Right, but the ones with pompadours, sideburns, and pouty mouths are a little bit more your concern," said Sushi. "Don't worry about Do-Wop, Rev. I think I've known him long enough to have a pretty good idea what he does best. .."

Do-Wop looked up with a surprised expression. "Hey, thanks, Soosh. I didn't know you thought that much of me.. ."

"... which is goofing off," Sushi finished.

"Yo! That ain't fair!" said Do-Wop, punching his buddy on the shoulder. "I thought you was gonna defend me!"

"You've known me long enough that you should've known better," said Sushi. "But seriously, Rev, you don't have to worry about Do-Wop. He knows a good deal when he sees one, and this is about as good as he's going to get in the Legion. Trust us-we'll get you results, if anybody can. Now, here's an idea I just came up with..." Rev and Do- Wop bent close to listen, and soon their heads were nodding.

"Pssst-Harry sent me," said a shadowy figure just beyond the perimeter of Zenobia Base.

"Yeah? What's the word?" said Double-X, who'd volunteered for sentry duty on this part of the perimeter. Rembrandt had been mildly surprised that the Supply sergeant's assistant was volunteering for anything at all, but she'd shrugged and put Double-X on the duty roster. Anytime somebody actually wanted to take on nighttime guard duty, it was one fewer warm body she'd have to cajole into doing

it. And while she'd probably wonder about the reason for the unusual request, the captain's policy was to give the troops a good deal of slack, and she wasn't about to overrule him.

"Bird is the word," said the voice from beyond the perimeter.

"What's the bird?" said Double-X.

"Thunderbird," said the voice, somewhat exasperated.

"Hey, can we come in now? This password stuff is silly."