“It would be our duty,” the doctor said and heads nodded like fury on all sides. “It would be like saving someone from drowning, a public duty, no payment expected.”
“Great! Then I will now teach you another word…”
“Can I guess?” Morton cried out, I nodded. “Desertion!” I nodded aeain. Battle ioined at last!
Chapter 22
Enthusiasm gave way quickly to fatigue and it was agreed that the session would continue after we all had had some sleep. I found myself tucked away m a small room in a soft bed, with a portrait of Mark Forer beaming down electronically upon me. I sipped a last sip of wine and crashed.
By the next evening I had put together the rudiments of a plan and had assembled my team.
“We have to try it out, smooth it out. Then, if it works,
we pass it on to others. We will operate and proceed like an ancient seam, a term I ran across when doing research into crime.” I did not add that my reasons for doing this were to improve myself as a criminal. This would .have been too much for these simple IMers to understand. “Here is how it will work. This evening I will enter one of the eating and drinking establishments you have described to me. I will then stand next to a soldier and engage him in conversation. You, S timer, will be seated at a table with empty chairs, or next to an empty table. I will come over with the soldier and sit close enough for you to overhear our conversation. Sharia will be with you, she is your daughter.”
“You are wrong, she is not my daughter.”
“Just for tonight she is your daughter, like in a play. You do have plays here?”
“Of course. In fact I was on the stage when younger, before I was attracted to the delights of flowing electrons. I even acted the title role in some classics, how does it go again… to was, or not to was—”
“Fine, great, glad to have an old thespian aboard. So tonight you act the role of ShaHa’s dad. Follow my lead and it should work. I’ll pick an easy target this first time, an apple ripe for plucking. So there should not be any trouble.”
“What do I do?” Morton asked. “You said I was on the team.”
“Right. You have the important job of taping all of this for the record. So when it works as it should we can make training copies for others. Keep the recorder out of sight and the mike close. Ready?”
“Ready!”
We waited until after dark before we set out. Volunteers, drafted from the street of course, worked ahead of us to make sure we didn’t meet any roadblocks or MPs. They reported back all the obstructions so we had a pleasant, if circuitous, walk to the Vaillant quarter of the city which I had been assured was the correct place to go for theatre, opera, dining out, lM reinforcement groups and the other heady joys of this civilized planet. It looked an interesting locale. Although it was fairly empty this evening with no more than a quarter of the establishments lighted up. Stirner led the way to the Fat Farmer, where he said he always enjoyed good food and better drink when in the city. There were some locals sampling its pleasures—but no invading soldiers.
“You told me that the army had leave passes, that they could be found in this area. Where are they?”
“Not inhere, obviously,” Stirner said. “What do you mean—obviously?”
“Since they cannot pay they won’t be served.”
“Sounds fair. But, since they are the invading army, what stops them from just grabbing the booze 3hd helping themselves?”
“They are not stopped. However everyone leaves and the establishment shuts down.”
“Obvious. All right then. To your stations and I’ll see if I can drum up some trade.”
I felt very pimpish standing under the streetlight with a dead cigar for a prop. In the local garb I was just part of the passing parade and no one took notice of me. I watched all of them though—on the lockout for MPs or anything that resembled the part of the military I did not want to see, stripes, bars, the usual thing. None of these appeared, but eventually t\lIO unmilitary figures in military uniform drifted into sight. Hands in pockets—shame!—caps on at odd angles. They stopped at the Fat Farmer and looked in the window with longing. I stepped up behind them and held up the cigar. “Either of you guys got a light?”
They jumped as though they had been goosed, shying back from me.
“You talked to us!” the bolder one said.
“I did. I pride myself on my linguistic ability. And if you will remember I asked you for a light for my cigar.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“Good for you. Cigarettes kill. But don’t you carry a fire apparatus for those who do?” They shook their heads in gloomy negation. Then I raised afinger rich with inspiration. “I know what—we will enter this eating and drinking place and they will light my cigar. Perhaps you young gentlemen from distant planet will also join me in a drink and I can practice my talking?”
“Won’t work. We tried it and they closed the place and went home.”
“That is only because you had no wirr, the local unit of exchange, our money, so could not pay. I am rich with wirr and am buying…”
I followed after their rapidly retreating footsteps, found them pushing against the bar in eager anticipation. Stimer had given me his wirrdisc and briefed me on its operation.
“Three beers,” I ordered, “large ones,” and dropped the plastic slab of integrated circuits into the slot in the top of the bar. While the robot bartender, all chrome and brass with bottlecaps for eyes, drew three big brews, the cost was subtracted from Stirner’s lifetime account. I grabbed the wirrdisc as it was rejected.
“Here’s to the army, lads,” I said raising my beer high. “I hope you enjoy your chosen careers.”
They chugalugged enthusiastically, thengasped and whined nostalgically familiar whines that took me back to my own army days.
“Chose an army career! Cagal! Drafted. Chased, hunted down, caught.”
“Then after that, basic training. Pursued at the double night and day by foul-mouthed fiends. Would anyone voluntarily choose a career like that?”
“Certainly not! But at least you eat well…” I enjoyed the outraged cries and loathsome descriptions of hotpups while I ordered up another round of beers. When their faces were buried in the suds again I made the suggestion.
“I know it is past your dinner hour, but I see three seats vacant at that table, next to the elderly gentleman with the kinky bird. Would you join me for a small repast—say a large steak and fried wirfles?”
The thunder of feet was my only answer yet one more time. I joined them in the steaks, and very good they were too. We polished them off quickly, had a few more beers—and tried not to belch because there was young lady at our table. Sated and boozed they now had time for the third of the troika of military pleasures and their eyes moved steadily in Sharla’s direction. Time for act two.
“Well,” I said, “if the food is bad in the army, at least you enjoy the wisdom and companionship of the sergeants.” I listened to the answers for a bit, nodding and commiserating, then elicited other similar complaints with leading questions about officers, latrines, kitchen police—and all the other bitches so dear to the enlisted man’s heart. When enough had been ventilated I gave Stimer his cue and sat back.
“Young draftee soldiers from a distant planet, you must excuse my impertinence in addressing strangers. But I, and my lovely daughter Sharia, could not help but overhear your conversation. Can it be true that you were forced into military service completely against your will?”
“You better believe it, Pops. Hi, Sharia, you ever go out with guys other than your Dad?”
“Very often. I simply adore the company of handsome young men. Like you.”
All three of us fell into the limpid pool of her eyes, splashed around for a bit and emerged gasping. and in love. Stirner spoke and they did not hear. I finally ordered large beers and had them placed in front of their bulging eyes to cut off sight of the gorgeous Sharia. This produced the desired result. While they glugged Stirner talked.