Episode 25

How the Body Works

I looked around our new digs. The girl in the fountain was still spitting water, though now she had a hovertank parked next to her. Our new base was sprawled across the lawn of the palace. The Ulimbese had taken the royal building for themselves, but we had our own tent city going across the lawn and some of the outbuildings. Our new “barracks,” where I’d slept the night before, were a large barn. We didn’t all fit and the overflow was scattered around containers and other outbuildings. The base was obviously still in progress.

My biggest concern was finding the mess tent at this point.

“A drink and a smoke,” Jock said, “then some target practice.”

“I don’t get you,” I said, “you eat like a girl but you’ve got no problem drinking and smoking.”

Jock looked at me with a frown. “You stupid, Tommy? Don’t you understand balance?”

“Balance?” I said.

“Yeah. You eat well, then you can smoke and drink. You eat crap and smoke and drink, you die. You eat healthy, then you can smoke and drink all you want. It all balances out.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” I said.

“Yeah, well you don’t understand how the body works. You’re just lucky that someone will shoot you in the head long before your arteries are clogged.”

We found the mess tent and a couple of older local women heaped portions on our plates. It was some sort of roots in a gravy. Not my first choice for breakfast, but I was famished. I topped off my coffee cup from a big metal carafe and found the brew to be better than expected. The Ulimbese or Corwistalians or someone must grow the stuff.

Park joined Jock and me a couple minutes after we sat down. He had a sly grin on his face but wouldn’t say why. I figured he’d gotten some of the local brandy and didn’t want to share. Bastard.

“Yo,” came a voice. It was Ace. “Long time no see,” he said, sitting down with his plate. On top of his roots he had some shredded cheese.

“Cheese?” Park said. “Where did you get that?”

Ace shrugged and tucked in.

And then we heard the sound of that Ulimbese tube drum howling and battering away.

“What the hell?” someone muttered.

Jock nodded his head. “They’re gonna hit back.”

“Yep,” I said.

“Hit where?” Ace asked.

“Corwistalian base.”

Then Four-eyes joined us and Jock turned to him. “Isn’t that right, Four-eyes?”

“Yes,” he said. “The base is about 30 kilometers from here. My bet is they’ll send in some troops and mortar it. Corwistalians have little in the way of armor and not enough guys holding the base.”

“It would be fun to drone it,” Park said around a mouthful of potatoes.

“Yeah,” I said, “but the major said no. Not our objective. We’re just hanging around for now. Hurry up and wait.”

“So,” Jock said to Four-eyes, “when are the Ulimbese mounting their assault?”

“Not sure,” said Four-eyes. “Right now they’re just on alert and readying equipment. Nothing else on the chatter.”

I finished my roots and decided to go back for more, then found a confrontation at the head of the line.

“Hey,” a private was telling one of the local serving women, “come on, I’m starving here.”

“Nothing else,” she said. “We’re done!”

“Done?” I said, “what do you mean you’re done?”

“They told us to stop, then took the food,” she said. “Sorry. We’re just cleaning up now.”

“Who? What?” I said, then looked back. “Hey Jock—the Ulimbese just took the rest of the food.”

“St. Possenti kick their puckered asses,” Jock swore. “What is this crap?”

“Stratarches Tark being pissy,” I said.

Just then Ward and Leighton walked in, still bleary eyed. “I could kill for some scrambled eggs,” Leighton said.

“You’ll have to,” Jock said. “The diner is now closed.”

“Closed?” said Ward. “You kidding us?”

“I wish,” I said. “I was really hoping for a second plate of delicious boiled roots.”

And then, in walked Major Skelton. The few dozen men stood and saluted and he saluted back briskly.

“Listen, men—we have an issue. Colonel wants everyone. Command tent. Now.”

We filed out after him. The beating of the Ulimbese instruments had stopped. I glanced across the gardens as we headed towards the colonel. The Ulimbese were in formation near the castle, and more men were on top of a balcony. Looked like an address was taking place but I couldn’t hear anything from here.

We reached the tent and I saw a lot of guys squinting and holding their heads. They had definitely drunk all the good stuff, the greedy pigs.

We gathered together as best as we could in the parking lot containing the command tent. I caught quite a few questioning eyes and shrugs.

About five minutes later, the colonel walked out of the tent, flanked by Lt. Colonel Adams.

“Good morning, men,” he said, looking us over. “We’ve hit a potential snag and we’re going to un-snag it before it turns into a tear.”