The War for Profit Series Omnibus (51 page)

The troops stood and left the room. Spike had been sitting in the back and came forward. Galen asked him, “So how’d I do?”

“Pretty good. I’m surprised there weren’t a lot more questions.”

“These guys have dealt with advanced technologies most of their lives. They probably don’t see this as anything all that great or all that amazing. They’ve traveled in space, after all. This is just another gadget for them. I figure they’re more concerned with how to work it than how it works.”

Spike said, “For now. After they use it this afternoon, a couple of them might get real curious.”

Galen said, “That’s why we blast out of here tomorrow morning, so they don’t have time to get curious.”

“Let’s do lunch.”

Galen said, “I have to brief the board first, then I’ll meet you in the corporate cafeteria.”

“You know, I’ve never been there before.”

“First floor of the corporate building, to the right at the end of the hall, the entrance is on the left side. I’ll be there in about an hour. Pretty good chow.”

“See you there.”

Galen went through his office and left the Brigade headquarters building through his commander’s entrance and strode across the quadrangle to the corporate building. There was a small administrative staff on the first floor and there was some office space on the second floor for the Brigade’s investors, but most of the building was actually apartments for the unit’s field grade officers and their families. Galen took the elevator to the third floor and found the doors to the board room open and the board members seated around the table in comfortable chairs.

“Come on in and have a seat,” said the chairmen, not giving Galen a chance to knock on the door. “And close the doors behind you.”

Galen closed the doors and sat at the opposite end of the table from the chairman and looked around, making eye contact with each of the eight investors and the chairman. The chair provided for Galen wasn’t as nice as all the others, but it was comfortable. “Gentlemen, lady, chairmen. Good afternoon.”

“Relax, Colonel, and just give us our brief.”

“All right. The dividend is secure for this quarter and the next. We have a contract to serve as heavy combat reserve forces on Kreinbaur, acting on behalf of the government of Tuha, the employer. The terms are generous to say the least, for a six month contract. We’ve received twenty per cent advanced payment, which is enough to cover all the costs of the contract, the rest is profit. If all goes well, I’ll be obligated under the terms of our unit charter to issue a special dividend.”

The chairman said, “My grand daughter, your betrothed, Karen, is pregnant.”

Galen said, “I thought you would be happy about that.”

“I am. I also saw today’s lab reports. She’s going to have twin boys, and they are due to be born in eight months and two weeks, give or take a few days.”

“I’ll be back in time to have the wedding before that happens. But what does this have to do with Brigade business?”

The chairman smiled, “I have already gotten what I want from you, a grandson. Two grandsons. Your performance has been exemplary. So if you want to get killed on Kreinbaur, that’s okay with me.”

“Chairman, you should have more faith in my abilities.”

The chairman stood and said, “I looked at the contract, and I’ve been checking the news. Your employer is setting you up for failure. If I don’t see you again, remember this: I told you so.”

“Duly noted,” Galen stood.

The chairman said, “Dismissed.”

Galen took the stairs down to the first floor and had lunch in the cafeteria with Spike.

Galen watched the maintenance bay doors slide open in front of him and stood high in the cupola of his Hercules command tank and put on his commo helmet and blew into the microphone and said, “You got me, driver? Gunner?”

“Roger,” said Private Parks, the driver.

“Check.” Corporal Slaughter, the gunner.

Galen keyed the comms switch on the side of his helmet. “All right, Spike. You ready?”

“Roger.”

“Three Charlie?”

“Roger. Charlie three six out.” Third platoon, the platoon leader. Lieutenant Hayes.

Galen said, “Guns?”

“Gun one one, roger,” First gun, first section.

“Gun two one, roger,” Second gun, first section.

The two modified Hercules chassis outfitted with particle cannons would bring up the rear. The crews were from the direct/indirect fire assault gun battery. They were accustomed to handling overloaded, underpowered, top heavy, awkward vehicles.

“We’re going to the pig farm. Follow me.” Galen released his external comms switch. “Move out, driver.”

The Pig Farm was an area of the test track that was kept a soupy, sloppy mess of slick mud for the purpose of training crews in the recovery of mired vehicles. Galen led the column of armored vehicles right into the middle of it, each one coming on line to his left to get stuck like chuck, high centered and their tracks spinning in the mud, flat hulls of the underbellies of the vehicles gripping the slop like a suction cup. Galen looked over the side and saw that the mud was level with the base of the turret of his tank.

He keyed his comms. “Okay. What you might wan to think about doing is turn on your ATCS and slowly turn the knob to the left. Then instruct your driver to pull ahead slowly. Your vehicle should rise in the front and then you can ease out. Travel across to the other side of this swamp and line up in column. I’ll go last.”

Galen pressed the knob and the green light came on. He then cranked the knob to the left and the front of the tank rose half a meter. Galen knew that turning on the ATCS made both the rear and front lifters operate at 75% capacity, reducing the vehicles’ weight by thirty tons, making it twenty six tons instead of fifty six. Turning the knob to the left brought the front lifter up to 100% and dropped the rear lifter to zero, allowing the back of the track to bite into the mud with greater pressure while lifting the nose of the tank out of the mud. But Galen kept that to himself. Let the troops think it was magic or sliding magnets under the hull or whatever. Just as long as they knew how to use it, that’s all that mattered.

The gun carriages left first, crossed the mud hole and lined up on the other side to be the rear of the column. Galen watched the four tanks of Three Charlie drive across with no problem. Spike took his tank across, and once he was parked at the head of the column, Galen let his driver move out. The vehicle eased forward and picked up speed.

“This is awesome, sir!”

“I hoped you’d like it. Now get across and park at the head of that column. We have a hill to climb.”

Galen noticed that the front ends of some of the vehicles were still jacked up. He pressed comms, “When you don’t need it, turn the knob straight up and turn it off.”

The noses of the vehicles leveled off. Galen’s tank parked at the head of the column. He said, “Now we go to the hill climb. We’re going straight to the one hundred per cent slope, the eight hundred mil ramp. I’m going first. Follow me.” Galen heard a cacophony of “Roger, Check, Hooah,
etc.
in the earphones of his helmet. “Shut up.”

Silence. His driver drove to the base of the steepest hill of the test course. It went up for two hundred and fifty meters, level on top for ten meters and then back down at the same angle on the other side. Galen noticed there were very few vehicle tracks on the hill, and none of them were recent. This obstacle didn’t get used very often. He put his comms on vox and said, “Listen up, all you all. This is the most dangerous part of today’s training. The ATCS helps with vehicle pitch but causes excessive vehicle roll. Avoid using it on side slopes, as it makes your vehicle more likely to roll over. Got it?”

A series of positive responses.

“I’ll talk my way through everything I do here, so you can learn from my example or my mistakes if I make any. And no laughing on this net.”

“Ha!” Spike’s voice.

Galen paused for a moment. “First thing, gunner, elevate the gun just enough so it doesn’t poke into the hill when we pull forward.”

The main gun rose.

“Next, I engage the ATCS and turn the knob all the way to the right.”

The rear of the tank rose. The gunner elevated the main gun a little more to compensate.

“Driver, get me on top of that hill and then come to a halt.”

The driver pulled ahead, the underside of the hull scraping a bit as it hit the base of the hill. The tank then tilted and as it made its way fully onto the slope, Galen felt like he was looking straight up. He felt like the vehicle was going to flip over backwards any moment, but the tank kept chugging on up the hill to the top, nary a slip nor slide at all. The driver stopped at the top.

Galen said, “Damn, that was scary, but the ATCS did what it’s supposed to do. I’m now turning the knob all the way to the left before going down the other side. Forward, driver.”

The tank drove down the other side of the hill. The extreme slope made Galen nervous but he knew he could get used to it. “I’m at the bottom on the other side, and I’m nervous after that ride. I’m parking off to the side and shutting off the ATCS. Okay, next tank, come on over the hill and park along side me.”

The next five vehicles were Hercules tanks and rolled over the hill just like Galen’s. The gun carriages had a hard time getting started at the bottom, but the crews figured out they could raise the front, pull up until six of their eight road wheels were on the slope, then lower the front and raise the rear, and then proceed right on up and over the hill. Galen led them around the base of the hill to the start point and they drove over the hill again. Then they took a chow break in place and ate field rations. On the convoy back they drove through the automated wash rack, through the marshalling yard and tied their vehicles down on the landing boats lined up at the space port. Galen checked his wrist chronometer: 22:12 local time. On the way back toward the Brigade compound, the Gun Chief caught up to Galen and walked on his left side.

“Sir, I couldn’t help but notice how the guns seemed more stable than the tanks. That doesn’t make sense.”

Galen knew why; it was because the guns had four lifters, one near each corner, which controlled the roll side to side, while the tanks had only two lifters, one center front and one center back, allowing an awkward roll when the vehicle drove on side slopes. But Galen wasn’t about to tell the Gun Chief that. “Chief, you have better crews. They’re used to top-heavy vehicles.”

“No sir, that isn’t it.”

The flattery didn’t work. Galen realized he was dealing with a Field Artillery Gun Chief; too much common sense, too detail-oriented to lead a group larger than a section, and too damned smart to believe any kind of misleading falsehood. “Okay, here’s the deal. I shouldn’t tell you this, but the secret, and I mean secret,” Galen glanced around, eyes narrowed, and said in a low voice, “The guns have harmonic balancers, for a more stable firing platform.”

“What does that mean?”

Galen said in a whisper, his mouth just four centimeters from the Chief’s ear, “I don’t know, Chief, but it’s what they told me. I flunked physics.”

The Chief nodded knowingly. “Don’t worry sir, you’re secret’s safe with me.”

Galen lengthened his stride and pulled away from the Chief. Galen was certain the Chief was filled with the self-assurance and gratification that came with once again proving himself smarter than yet another hoidy-toidy officer. Which was fine with Galen; he just wanted the conversation to end.

When he got back to his apartment, Karen was on the couch reading an eBook on the flat screen. “Hey boyfriend.”

“Hey babe. I’m headed for the shower.”

“Everything go all right?”

Galen said, “Yes. It was wonderful.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Galen took his shower and put on the big, fluffy robe she had bought for him and came back out and sat on the couch next to Karen.

“Finally,” she said. “I thought you’d never wear that robe.”

“I’m not a ‘robe’ type person, but I figured, why not?”

Karen took her empty tea cup to the kitchen. “Want anything?”

“A face full of you.”

Karen said, “My grandpa says you’ll get killed.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Any good news for me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your pregnancy?”

“What about it?” Karen returned from the kitchen and sat next to Galen on the couch. Then, “Oh, I thought I already told you. Twin boys.”

“Your grandpa told me at the board meeting.”

“Oh. What else did he say?” Karen leaned on his shoulder.

“He congratulated me.”

Karen sat back up straight. “So, about this Grinder contract. Let’s play ‘what if’ and see where that goes.”

“What if everyone is worried about nothing, doubting my judgment at every turn, but it turns out just fine. We get paid high-end compensation for a low-risk job and I get to say ‘I told you so’ every morning from then until the next contract.”

Karen said, “What if all the troops and equipment you take to Grinder get grinded up.”

“The unit has capital, the coffers are full. The training base here is booked with enough outside students to keep running for a year. The loss of equipment is insured at 50% replacement costs, so half its value is seed money to rebuild the Brigade. The cadre can have the ranks refilled with qualified troops. In less than a year, the Brigade would be fully operational again.”

“And what about you? What would I do without you?”

“Being the senior officer at that time, you’d assume command of the Brigade, of course. And you are going to have twin boys. My work here is done. The Brigade will go on just fine without me.”

Karen said, “I’m tired of this game.”

Galen pulled her close and kissed her full on the mouth.

She pulled back. “When do you leave?”

Galen said, “You know when we leave. First boats lift at 0530. I’ll blast out of here last on the command drop ship at 0800, then—”

She cut him off by placing her hand over his mouth, “When do you leave the apartment in the morning?” She removed her hand.

“Oh. 0430.”

“I’ll make sure you’re up.” She kissed him back.