Armor (7 page)

“Out of touch, I suppose.”

“Where you been posted? Were you a starprobe or something?” asked Yin with a laugh.

“No “ replied Felix seriously. “Nothing like that.

“What were you?” asked Bolov, equally serious,

“A civilian.”

There was a long silence while they stared again. In a hushed voice, Bolov finally broke the silence.

“Felix,” he asked slowly, “how long have you been in the fleet?”

“Nine months.”

“Nine months? You’re a greener?” asked Yin, amazed.

“What’s that?”

“He means,” added Obel quickly, “is this your first Drop?”

Felix nodded, “This is it,”

“Holy shit,” breathed a stunned Bolov. “On Banshee.”

“But. . . but you’re a scout. How could you be a scout?”

Obel wanted to know.

“I just drew it.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Obel with finality. “That sort of thing just doesn’t happen. ‘ ‘

“It might,” suggested Bolov quietly. “They needed a lot of people fast. This is a fullscale war, after all.”

“But scout duty?” wailed Obel. “For a man with less than a year? A greener?”

“How long have you guys been in?”

“Eight years,” said Obel.

“Nine years,” said Bolov,

“Five years,” said Yin.

It was Felix’s turn to be amazed. “You mean this is. . . your career?”

“Hell, yes,” said Obel.

“So you’ve. . . done this before?”

“Fought before?” asked Yin. “Sure we have. Fought the

Barmi on Silo.”

“And the Zee’s. Don’t forget them,” added Bolov.

“How could I,” replied Yin dryly.

“Hell,” blurted Obel, importantly. “My very first Drop was Ervis Three ..”

“But you were backup then. . .”

“Yeah, yeah,” drawled Yin. “We know you’ve been around.

We’ve all been around,”

“Had to have. That’s why we’re alive and talking about it” said Obel. “You can’t match experience.”

“Felix has,” replied Yin with a short laugh.

“So far,” admitted Bolov, “it’s incredible.”

“Why is that?” asked Felix.

“Felix, you ask around. I bet you a month’s credits that you’re the only greener still alive.”

“I’d bet more than that,” muttered Obel. “And as a lousy scout, too. I still don’t see how he got stuck with that.” “Maybe he volunteered,” offered Yin.

“He’s not that stupid,” replied Obel.

“Maybe he wants to be a hero,” returned Yin. “Some do.

I bet he did volunteer.”

“Bet he didn’t,” replied Obel.

“Which is it, Felix?” asked Bolov. “Are you stupid. . .?”

“. . . Or just unlucky. . .”

Felix smiled slightly to himself. “I didn’t volunteer for anything.”

“You volunteered for the goddamn war, didn’t you?” prompted Bolov.

“Yes.”

“That was your first mistake,” said Bolov.

“Maybe your last,” added Obel. “Why’d you do it? You from Earth, huh?”

“Yeah,” added Yin. “Your family in South America?

You here to get revenge?”

Felix stared, taken back. “No,” he said at last. “I’m not from Earth.”

“Yeah?” asked Obel. “Then why did you sign up?”

Felix stared at him, hesitant. Bolov saved him.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “He’s here now. He’s on Banshee, a scout, and fighting. Fighting damn good, too.”

“A lousy scout,” mused Obel. “A greener scout. Do you know where that puts you on the stat? at the very …”

“Cut that, Obel,” growled Bolov. “That won’t help anything.”

“I figure he’s got a right to know.”

“Oh, is that what you figure? Shaddup.”

“No,” said Felix, resigned to it all. “May as well give it to me.”

“It’s the survival table, Felix,” said Yin in a quiet voice.

“And…?”

“And. . .?” Bolov was hesitant. “Look, Felix, it’s like this: They have this scale that gives the odds for survival for any given warrior on any particular Drop. They change for each Drop. Like, for a greener warrior it’s a four.” “Four what…”

“Four for ten,” offered Obel.

Bolov sighed. “It means that there are four chances out of ten that he’ll make it. A statistical survival rate of 40 percent.”

Felix couldn’t believe his ears. “You mean to say that only 40 percent survive their first Drop?”

“If it’s a major Drop,” added Obel quickly. “You know, an assault Drop.”

“Look, Felix,” explained Bolov. “There are two kinds of Drops; Major, an assault Drop. That means you’re one of the first to hit. Then there’s the Minor, or backup. The scale I’m talking about depends on it being a major with a casualty rate of at least 10 percent, and with all that being so, a greener warrior would be four on the scale if it was first.” “Course, it changes with each Drop,” offered Yin. “Year,” agreed Bolov. “It gets better. Second drop rates a six. Sixty percent chance. Third is seven. Fourth is as bad as the first, though. It’s four, too.”

“Overconfidence sets in,” added Obel. “Know-it-alls that figure it can’t happen to them just because it hasn’t yet. Forget to duck.”

“Yeah,” said Bolov, continuing. “Anyway, it’s. . . uh, four for the first, six for the second, seven for the third, back to four for the fourth back to seven for fifth. Sixth, seventh and eighth are the best. They’re all eight. Then it starts down again. Ninth is seven. Tenth is only five. You get tired, you know? Anyway it stops at ten. Nobody’s ever made more than ten major Drops.”

“And most Drops aren’t majors,” Yin reminded him. “Most are just backups. Only one out of seven are majors because they rotate you that way. The odds are a lot better on backups. Nine for vets. Even greeners get eight.”

“That’s why greeners should always drop backups first,” offered Bolov. “You get experience that way which helps you later on. It works out better, somehow. I don’t really understand it all. But say you’re like us and you do seven backups before your first major. The stat says you then get the same rating as if it were really your third major. You get a seven. See?”

“Vaguely,” replied Felix, understanding a little. “How many Drops have you made, Bolov?”

“Me? Eighteen. But only three were rated as major and, really, only two of them were really bad. For the other fifteen, I was rotated to the rear where it’s a hell of a lot safer. And there’s lots more warriors around you, most times. Course, none of ‘em were this Banshee shit.”

“So your odds would be. . .?”

“I’m at eight, now. We all are. We’ve got experience, the know-how, plus we get lots of rest.”

“The more rest you get, the less chance of battle fatigue,” added Obel.

“Hmm,” said Felix, thinking aloud. “Then I’m at four.” “Uh, no,” replied Bolov, a trifle embarrassed. “You dropped a scout. That’s different.”

“That’s worse,” said Obel.

“A lot worse,” added Yin.

“Scouts never get better than six, no matter what. And since you’re also a greener …”

“So I’m a what?”

“You’re a one.”

“What?”

“One, Felix,” Bolov said tiredly, sadly, as if pronouncing sentence. “That’s one out of ten. A ten percent chance.” Felix stared at him, not speaking.

“You should never have been Dropped as a scout your first time,” added Bolov hurriedly, consoling.

“Not as a greener,” agreed Obel.

“You were robbed,” insisted Yin.

Nobody said anything for awhile after that. Occasionally the other three would stare at Felix, awaiting some reaction. But Felix was long past reacting to any of it. Long past lots of things, he thought.

And then the line had brought them to the Can. There were only three spaces. Felix waited while the other three made Connection. And, just as he was about to step up. Forest appeared beside him.

“You’re just now making Connection?” she asked, surprised “It was a long line.”

“You don’t have to wait in line. You’re a scout. You get priority.” She stepped in front of the warrior behind Felix and made Connection. “Being a scout is a lot different from being a warrior, my friend.”

Felix sighed, made Connection beside her. “I’ve heard that,” he said in a tired voice and watched his dials rise with the surge of power.

He found that he could no longer finish the stick of nutrite he had started chewing. He spit it into the tube. He rinsed his mouth out with water and spit that out too. Beside him, Forest was making noisy chewing sounds.

“I see you met our little trio,” she said after a particularly loud swallow.

“Who?”

“Bolov, Yin and Obel,” she said with a slight belch.

“What did they tell you?”

“Odds.”

“Aw, shit,” she muttered. “What did they say?”

“They said I was a one for ten. Were they right?” “Well, yeah,” she replied reluctantly. “Did that get to you?”

“Probably.”

“Well, I can see how it could. But Felix, that’s just a probability scale, you know, not a death sentence. It doesn’t have your name on it. For one thing, it assumes average ability, average reflexes. And you’re a lot quicker than that. Besides, you’ve already beat worse odds than that just by being here.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. So do you. Remember A Team? Two hundred and four Dropped, only you survived. As a scout, yet. Far as I know, that’s a first. You’re some kind of record.” “Some kind. . .” he said, distantly.

“Never mind that stuff. What else did they have to talk about?”

He turned and looked at her. “They talked about you, as a matter of fact. About your athletic career. The armored. ...”

“Olympics,” she prompted. “The Armored Olympic Trials.” “Yes. They seem to think you’re pretty good.”

“I am. Damn good. One of the best.”

“They think you’re the best they’ve ever seen.”

“I probably am at that.”

“They seem to think that you should have won that thing.

One of them thought you’d been cheated. Were you cheated? ‘ ‘

“I was beaten. Badly. Cheated, huh?” She laughed softly, a pleasant sound. “What a lovely thought. Felix, I was never really in it. He slaughtered me.”

“He?”

“Kent, Nathan Kent. You’ve probably heard of him.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Really? I’m surprised. He’s quite famous. Not just on Earth, either. He’s recognized on sight on about a dozen planets, and his name is well known on about two dozen more. People care about him that aren’t even sports fans. Everybody’s Hero, he’s called.”

“Everybody’s Hero?”

A warrior with corporal’s markings appeared beside them.

“What’s all this about a hero?” asked a feminine voice.

“Who’s a hero?”

Forest laughed. “What for, Lohman? You volunteering?” “Not a chance,” replied Lohman. She sat down on the sand in front of them.

“Lohman, meet Felix.”

“Howdy, Felix.”

“How do you do?”

“So who’s the hero?”

“We were talking about Kent,” said Forest.

“Oh, yeah,” responded Lohman dryly. “He’s a hero, all right. Everybody’s Hero.”

Felix found himself drifting, wanting to be alone. But he was determined to stay and try.

“I suppose every war needs heroes,” he offered.

“Especially this one,” said Forest and Lohman, in unison. Then they looked at each other and laughed. Felix managed a small grin.

“Well, we better take care of him. Can’t lose him now,” he said.

Lohman laughed again at this, but her laughter had an edge of bitterness to it. “Lose him? How? He’ll never even see an ant.”

Felix looked at her. “I beg your pardon?” he asked “Can’t lose him,” said Lohman sarcastically. “Not the darling of good old Earth. Hell, if something happens to Kent, the people back home are liable to figure out that we aren’t invincible like the politicians have been telling them. No. They’ll be real careful with Kent. Treat him like a newborn baby, instead of a warrior.”

“That’s not fair, Lohman,” said Forest quickly. “He’s doing his part.”

“Really? By staging more phony demonstrations while people are getting killed? He’s not a warrior anymore. He’s a joke.”

“He could tear you in half with ten percent power,” said Forest evenly.

“Sure he could,” snapped Lohman, undismayed. “He could wipe me out. But ants are the enemy. What’s he done to them? Where do you think he is right now? He’s so far away, he couldn’t see Banshee with a starprobe.” “I don’t see why it should bother you,” said Forest. “Oh yeah?” retorted Lohman. Then, suddenly, her voice became gentle. “Well, what I’d like to know is why it doesn’t bother you, Forest. You did pretty well yourself, but all it gets you is the dirty jobs. Doesn’t it bother you? Don’t you ever wonder why you’re stuck here about to die when the warrior with the best odds for survival in the Fleet will never get a bruise? Just because somebody decided he was gonna be our symbol?”

“Somebody didn’t decide, everybody decided. Or maybe he decided it. He is the best, you know.”

“I know,” snapped Lohman. “That’s the point.”

“Lohman,” asked Forest patiently. “Do you really think he has any choice about where he’s sent? Do you really think he’s a coward?”

“No, of course not. But just the same. I’d like to see him make a Drop.”

“Suppose he did. We could all say: Lookee there, he’s just a regular warrior like the rest of us. Would you like that?” “Yes.”

“Would you? Would you really?”

“I said, yes,” snapped Lohman.

“Fine,” said Forest, sitting up straighter. Felix noticed that she had become quite animated all of a sudden. “So you’d be happy for a while. But what if he bought it? What then? That would be pretty bad, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course it would be bad. I wouldn’t want. ...”

“You’re goddamn right you wouldn’t,” retorted Forest with a growing fervor. Felix looked at her. “And you know why, too, Lohman. Because he’s not like everyone else and you know it. He’s not. He is a symbol. He’s everybody’s symbol. And more. It’s like. . . he’s the kind of thing that we all. . . that’s all of us put together to. ...”

“ ‘He’s the best of us, ‘ “ said Felix, reciting. “ “The best of our best, the best that each of us will ever build or ever love. So pray for this Guardian of our growth and choose him well, for if he be not truly blessed, then our designs are surely frivolous and our future but a tragic waste of hope.