Stone Blade by James Cox

before his arrest. Micah smiled at the lady who brought him lunch and words of encouragement. The kindness was better than the food and the food was excellent.
    By the end of the test Micah knew he'd failed completely. He had academic questions mixed with logic puzzles mixed with technical questions mixed with virtual-holographic models and projects. Micah's fingers were solid rods of pain and his brain was numb. He shunted aside the pain, of course, but that it took conscious effort told him just how tired he was.
    “Not bad,” said Glade, “I've seen better but I've seen a lot worse, too.”
    Micah nodded absently. He appreciated Glade's kindness but he knew the truth.
    “I won't have full correlates 'till tomorrow, Micah, but your raw scores are well above average.”
    For a backworlder, added Micah silently.
    “Now have a good meal and rest a bit. I'll see you early tomorrow.”
    ***
    Micah took a breath and left the consulate. A Marine guard stood just outside the building. He smiled at Micah and turned his attention back to the plaza. Micah walked down the few steps and looked around. Off to one side stood the border to Caustik proper. Commonwealth constables patrolled it, making themselves even more visible when one spotted Micah. He turned his back on them and walked to the plaza proper.
    Micah spent half an hour just walking about and watching the crowds. Almost every person he saw smiled and met his eyes. The ones who didn't obviously had urgent business. Micah saw several constable-like figures, League version, but they showed no interest in harassing any person, including himself!
    And the shops! Micah didn't try to count the sheer variety of stores he saw. Half or more bore the Merchant's Guild crest he vaguely recalled from history classes but the ones that didn't seemed just as busy.
    “Mister Stone.”
    Startled, Micah turned to face two Marines. He recognized them from the consulate.
    “Sorry, sir. Didn't mean to startle you. I'm Jack Collins and this is Pete Reyhie. We were  wondering if you'd join us for some slosh.”
    Micah shook their hands and thought quickly.
    “No thanks,” said Micah, “I really need to go back.”
    “Blather,” said Reyhie, “Don't be doof, it's on us. And we won't take no for an answer.”
    Collins and Reyhie sat after a toast to the Corps and another to the League. Micah joined on the second and received their nods of approval.
    “Now I'm not speaking facts,” said Collins, looking at Micah squarely, “but rumor says you saved a lot of asses. Did you?”
    “Not really,” said Micah, “I reported an enemy flanking. That's all. We tried to hold them back but they broke us.”
    Collins and Reyhie swapped glances and Micah felt sure they'd shared a joke. Then they turned their smiles on him.
    “Stone, the more a soldier does the less he talks about it! I think you just confirmed it.”
    That embarrassed Micah. He looked away.
    “Rumor also says,” continued Collins, “the soggies here gave you the boot for it.”
    Micah nodded.
    “Slaggers,” grunted Reyhie, “Stone, I'll say this once. You oughta have a slosh from every rat jock whose ass you saved. We can't afford that but we can sure as hades spot you a few! Slammit down!”
    “Slammit down!” seconded Collins. And they did!
    Micah managed to leave before things blurred too badly. He and Reyhie swapped a few stories. Before he transferred to soft duty, explained Reyhie, he'd been a Drop Marine, a 'rat jockey.' After they discussed the finer points of HRAT deployment Collins stated his preference, plain and simple, for having a solid ship around him when he landed.
    That led the two League Marines to discuss some of their missions. Micah recounted a couple of his. Talking to Pete and Jack, he found, lessened the sting.
    Back in his room Micah stepped into the shower and turned up the heat. His head ached and he didn't remember it starting. After a few minutes under the scalding water the ache subsided