The Forever War (The Forever War, #1) - Joe Haldeman Page 0,70
column relies on observation for its flank security except when the terrain and visibility dictate the need for small security detachments to the flanks, in which case the advance party commander will detail one platoon sergeant…” and so on. That’s from Strike Force Command Small Unit Leader’s Handbook, as if you could call something a handbook when it takes up two whole microfiche cards, 2,000 pages.
If you want to become a thoroughly eclectic expert in a subject that repels you, join UNEF and sign up for officer training.
One hundred nineteen people, and I was responsible for 118 of them. Counting myself but not counting the Commodore, who could presumably take care of herself.
I hadn’t met any of my company during the two weeks of physical rehabilitation that followed the ALSC session. Before our first muster I was supposed to report to the Temporal Orientation Officer. I called for an appointment and his clerk said the Colonel would meet me at the Level Six Officers’ Club after dinner.
I went down to Six early, thinking to eat dinner there, but they had nothing but snacks. So I munched on a fungus thing that vaguely resembled escargots and took the rest of my calories in the form of alcohol.
“Major Mandella?” I’d been busily engaged in my seventh beer and hadn’t seen the Colonel approach. I started to rise but he motioned for me to stay seated and dropped heavily into the chair opposite me.
“I’m in your debt,” he said. “You saved me from at least half of a boring evening.” He offered his hand. “Jack Kynock, at your service.”
“Colonel—”
“Don’t Colonel me and I won’t Major you. We old fossils have to…keep our perspective. William.”
“All right with me.”
He ordered a kind of drink I’d never heard of. “Where to start? Last time you were on Earth was 2007, according to the records.”
“That’s right.”
“Didn’t like it much, did you?”
“No.” Zombies, happy robots.
“Well, it got better. Then it got worse, thank you.” A private brought his drink, a bubbling concoction that was green at the bottom of the glass and lightened to chartreuse at the top. He sipped. “Then they got better again, then worse, then…I don’t know. Cycles.”
“What’s it like now?”
“Well…I’m not really sure. Stacks of reports and such, but it’s hard to filter out the propaganda. I haven’t been back in almost two hundred years; it was pretty bad then. Depending on what you like.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, let me see. There was lots of excitement. Ever hear of the Pacifist movement?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Hmn, the name’s deceptive. Actually, it was a war, a guerrilla war.”
“I thought I could give you name, rank and serial number of every war from Troy on up.” He smiled. “They must have missed one.”
“For good reason. It was run by veterans—survivors of Yod-38 and Aleph-40, I hear; they got discharged together and decided they could take on all of UNEF, Earthside. They got lots of support from the population.”
“But didn’t win.”
“We’re still here.” He swirled his drink and the colors shifted. “Actually, all I know is hearsay. Last time I got to Earth, the war was over, except for some sporadic sabotage. And it wasn’t exactly a safe topic of conversation.”
“It surprises me a little,” I said. “Well, more than a little. That Earth’s population would do anything at all…against the government’s wishes.”
He made a noncommittal sound.
“Least of all, revolution. When we were there, you couldn’t get anybody to say a damned thing against the UNEF—or any of the local governments, for that matter. They were conditioned from ear to ear to accept things as they were.”
“Ah. That’s a cyclic thing, too.” He settled back in his chair. “It’s not a matter of technique. If they wanted to, Earth’s government could have total control over…every nontrivial thought and action of each citizen, from cradle to grave.
“They don’t do it because it would be fatal. Because there’s a war on. Take your own case: did you get any motivational conditioning while you were in the can?”
I thought for a moment. “If I did, I wouldn’t necessarily know about it.”
“That’s true. Partially true. But take my word for it, they left that part of your brain alone. Any change in your attitude toward UNEF or the war, or war in general, comes only from new knowledge. Nobody’s fiddled with your basic motivations. And you should know why.”
Names, dates, figures rattled down through the maze of new knowledge. “Tet-17, Sed-21, Aleph-14. The Lazlo…’The Lazlo Emergency Commission Report.’ June, 2106.”