and the Fly, Mary Howitt
Building 59, Tauran Union Security Force-Balboa, Fort Muddville, Balboa Transitway Area, Terra Nova
“Bullshit,” said Hendryksen to Campbell, as she waved—Fernandez didn’t lack for a sense of drama—a gilt engraved invitation, in good English, for her and a male escort of her choosing to spend a full month with Second Infantry Tercio, during the annual training. “Let me see that.”
She handed over the invitation, then arched her back ever so slightly. Looking down she said, “Aye, lassies, ye did it.”
“I doubt it was them,” said Hendryksen, rolling his eyes eloquently.
“You leave me ma own delusions and I’ll leave you yours,” Campbell retorted.
“Sure,” he said, with bad grace. “You realize you’re going to need de Villepin’s approval, right?”
De Villepin was the Gallic chief of intelligence for the Tauran Union Security Force-Balboa, and their local superior. In fact, he had little direct power over anybody not in the Gallic Army, and had to really work at it, as did General Janier, to influence the army for which they really did work.
“Oh, teach yer mither to suck eggs, Kris; I know how a military bureaucracy works, yes. You want to be ma escort?”
“I’d love to,” he said, “but the Frogs are going to want a Frog.”
“Fock!” was all she could say to that prospect.
“It will be all right provided they give you an enlisted man or noncom,” Hendryksen assured her. “Tell you what, though; I will give you a list of questions I’d like answers to. Hmmm…what date did they give you?”
Campbell rechecked the invitation, then did a little figuring in her head. “Thirty-seven days from today.”
“Don’t count on doing it then. His Gribbitzness will be starting Operation Carbuncle before that. About ten minutes after the Balboans realize the rules have changed, and that their current degree of restraint is going unappreciated, they’re going to become rather less open and friendly.”
“So I’d better accept soon, hadn’t I, so that their gentlemanly instincts will kick in and they’ll refuse to disappoint a lady.”
Hendryksen sighed. “There are many words I would use to describe you, Jan, all of them complimentary, but until this moment ‘lady’ probably would not have been among them.”
“Heathen,” she answered, with a sniff of pseudo-hurt.
Casa Linda, Balboa, Terra Nova
It had been easy for Ant to find the direction to Hamilcar’s new school. She’d simply asked one of the compound’s Pashtun Scout guards for the use of a compass so that she could pay proper obeisance to their joint lord daily. That had sounded good enough for the guard that he’d gone to supply and gotten her one to keep, then trained her in how to use it. Thereafter, every evening, she, her co-wives, Hamilcar’s sisters (when they could sneak away), and Alena had all gathered in his bedroom at the casa, then prostrated themselves in the direction of Puerto Lindo and the Sergeant Juan Malvegui Military Academy, praying fervently to be reunited with their god.
Meanwhile, Ant’s swimming lessons, her minor thefts of relatively nonperishable food, and her acquisitions of necessary equipment and information continued apace.
But I’m not ready yet, she sighed to herself in the dark. Not yet. My feet aren’t tough enough yet. I don’t know the dangerous plants and animals well enough yet. I can’t swim well enough yet. And, though I’ve been practicing, I can’t use a map and compass well enough yet.
But soon .
Training Area C, Academia Militar Sergento Juan Malvegui, west of Puerto Lindo , Balboa, Terra Nova
It’s about time to take some of Centurion Cruz’s advice, thought Ham.
It was also dinner time. Better still, dinner was combat rations, rather than the deliberately tasteless crap they usually dished out. Rather, it was combat rations, minus, since the boys were not going to get the rum ration until they were much, much
Building 59, Tauran Union Security Force-Balboa, Fort Muddville, Balboa Transitway Area, Terra Nova
“Bullshit,” said Hendryksen to Campbell, as she waved—Fernandez didn’t lack for a sense of drama—a gilt engraved invitation, in good English, for her and a male escort of her choosing to spend a full month with Second Infantry Tercio, during the annual training. “Let me see that.”
She handed over the invitation, then arched her back ever so slightly. Looking down she said, “Aye, lassies, ye did it.”
“I doubt it was them,” said Hendryksen, rolling his eyes eloquently.
“You leave me ma own delusions and I’ll leave you yours,” Campbell retorted.
“Sure,” he said, with bad grace. “You realize you’re going to need de Villepin’s approval, right?”
De Villepin was the Gallic chief of intelligence for the Tauran Union Security Force-Balboa, and their local superior. In fact, he had little direct power over anybody not in the Gallic Army, and had to really work at it, as did General Janier, to influence the army for which they really did work.
“Oh, teach yer mither to suck eggs, Kris; I know how a military bureaucracy works, yes. You want to be ma escort?”
“I’d love to,” he said, “but the Frogs are going to want a Frog.”
“Fock!” was all she could say to that prospect.
“It will be all right provided they give you an enlisted man or noncom,” Hendryksen assured her. “Tell you what, though; I will give you a list of questions I’d like answers to. Hmmm…what date did they give you?”
Campbell rechecked the invitation, then did a little figuring in her head. “Thirty-seven days from today.”
“Don’t count on doing it then. His Gribbitzness will be starting Operation Carbuncle before that. About ten minutes after the Balboans realize the rules have changed, and that their current degree of restraint is going unappreciated, they’re going to become rather less open and friendly.”
“So I’d better accept soon, hadn’t I, so that their gentlemanly instincts will kick in and they’ll refuse to disappoint a lady.”
Hendryksen sighed. “There are many words I would use to describe you, Jan, all of them complimentary, but until this moment ‘lady’ probably would not have been among them.”
“Heathen,” she answered, with a sniff of pseudo-hurt.
Casa Linda, Balboa, Terra Nova
It had been easy for Ant to find the direction to Hamilcar’s new school. She’d simply asked one of the compound’s Pashtun Scout guards for the use of a compass so that she could pay proper obeisance to their joint lord daily. That had sounded good enough for the guard that he’d gone to supply and gotten her one to keep, then trained her in how to use it. Thereafter, every evening, she, her co-wives, Hamilcar’s sisters (when they could sneak away), and Alena had all gathered in his bedroom at the casa, then prostrated themselves in the direction of Puerto Lindo and the Sergeant Juan Malvegui Military Academy, praying fervently to be reunited with their god.
Meanwhile, Ant’s swimming lessons, her minor thefts of relatively nonperishable food, and her acquisitions of necessary equipment and information continued apace.
But I’m not ready yet, she sighed to herself in the dark. Not yet. My feet aren’t tough enough yet. I don’t know the dangerous plants and animals well enough yet. I can’t swim well enough yet. And, though I’ve been practicing, I can’t use a map and compass well enough yet.
But soon .
Training Area C, Academia Militar Sergento Juan Malvegui, west of Puerto Lindo , Balboa, Terra Nova
It’s about time to take some of Centurion Cruz’s advice, thought Ham.
It was also dinner time. Better still, dinner was combat rations, rather than the deliberately tasteless crap they usually dished out. Rather, it was combat rations, minus, since the boys were not going to get the rum ration until they were much, much
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