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"One wrong word scrapes the wrong nerve and you'll find yourself back at Supply
Cen-tral, busted in rank and cataloging foodstuffs for the du-ration."
"Anything would be better than squatting in the middle of this jungle, waiting
to go mad."
"You are joking," said Selinsing slowly. "Though if someone like Chin were to
give the orders ..."
"Give orders, hell." Carson turned to stare intently at Moreno. "If Chin feels
the same way about these delays as the rest of us, could be he might consider
doing more than just issuing orders. Like maybe leading an assault himself.''
Suddenly aware he might have gone too far too fast, Moreno adopted a cautioning
tone. "Slow down, my friends. I've only suspicions. I don't know Colonel Chin's
feelings exactly. It's only been mentioned on a couple of occasions, and
casually at that. Chin never got specific. He's a funny kind of guy, even for an
officer."
"Nothing wrong with his rep. I know he's got what it takes upstairs." Carson
rapped his belly. "Question is, does he have it here?"
"If we hit the enemy with our full strength," Selinsing was murmuring, "not just
our three squads but everything on the base, we could roll right over them and
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strike for their planetary headquarters. Ja; maybe even get ourselves a couple
of squids. Vacuum them right out of the forest."
"That's the wipe!" Carson drained his tankard, glanced hopefully at Moreno. "How
about it, Juan? You think Chin might go for it?"
"Not in so many words," the shorter man replied care-fully. "Chin's as focused
on his career as any officer. He'd have to feel he was covered in case of a
screwup."
"Certain ambiguities might creep into official commu-nications, rendering
ultimate comprehension a matter of individual interpretation." Both men looked
at Selinsing, who smiled like a petite wolverine. Communications was her
subspeciality.
"There is a certain officer in Base Operations," she explained unctuously. "He
is Massood. If these hypothet-ical orders happened to be received in Massood,
difficul-ties in translation might have to be resolved as best as possible by
whichever personnel happened to be present at the time."
"Like you?" Carson wore a grin of a different sort.
She smiled ever so slightly. Escaping rainbows stained her jet-black crewcut.
"It is not inconceivable. It would of course also be incumbent upon me to see
that matters of ambivalence were conveyed personally to the acting base
commandant so that he could propose a determination based on available evidence
and expert opinion."
"You again." Carson's admiration knew no bounds.
Having intended only to submit the first draft of a casual notion, Moreno was
somewhat taken aback by the speed with which his companions had proceeded to
polish it.
"Slow down. We're all half-drunk."
"Not me," Carson insisted cheerfully. "I'm four-fifths, at least.''
"What if Chin doesn't take to the idea in the spirit with which it's offered?"
Selinsing shrugged. "Then I can be held responsible for a poor translation from
the Massood, remember? I'm willing to take that much of the risk. If he so
chooses, all he can fault us for personally is an excess of enthusiasm."
Carson's chair hummed as it retreated from the table. He rose, weaving only
slightly. As he stepped out of the Human cone of influence, the shape in the
shadows changed from that of a tall, voluptuous woman to a short and to the
sergeant's eyes utterly repulsive female S'van.
"Let's do it now." His eyes blazed. "Let's do it quick. I'm sick of sitting on
my ass blowing kisses at shadows. I want to kill something."
That was Carson for you, his friends knew. Just a reg-ular guy. Whispering
excitedly among themselves the non-coms exited the club, oblivious as always to
the expressions of disgust and relief which crossed the faces of their non-Human
allies and fellow patrons as the three primates de-parted.
Chin's apartment was located deep within the forward firebase's central
accommodations complex. Given the op-tion, on Eirrosad as elsewhere,
high-ranking officers usu-ally elected to sacrifice sweeping views in favor of
claustrophobic safety. As befitted the base's second-in-command, Chin rated not
one but three rooms: a sleeping cubby, private hygienic facilities, and a
meeting and strat-egy room. Native vegetation had been planted atop the complex,
which in combination with sophisticated meth-ods of camouflage allowed the base
to blend into the sur-rounding jungle.
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