Chapter 5
The blade flashed past Anny's face as she twisted aside. Before she could recover, another attack came at her and she barely managed to beat it away with her own sword. Her opponent was fast and skilled and he knew he had her off balance. The attacks came faster and faster and Anny fell back, desperately fending them off, but with no chance to counterattack. She was strong and with great reflexes, but she had little experience in this sort of fighting. Her opponent's blade was like some living thing, moving almost faster than she could see. Sweat trickled down the side of her face and she retreated step by step.
Finally the inevitable happened and the blunt tip of her opponent's blade slid past her defenses and jabbed her solidly in the thick padding of her jacket. A buzzer sounded inside her safety helmet and she lowered her sword with a sigh of frustration. "Well done, ensign," she said. "A good touch."
"You didn't do bad yourself," said Ensign Vorgard. "For a beginner." He pulled off his helmet and grinned at her.
"You've only been with the regiment a little over a year yourself. You've sure learned a lot in that time!"
"Oh, my da had me taking fencing lessons before I was ten, Lieutenant," said Vorgard making an elaborate sweep of his blade. "I didn't pick this all up here!"
"Ah, I see," said Anny feeling a bit better. "Then I shall count myself fortunate getting lessons from you."
"My pleasure, sir." Vorgard made a formal salute with the sword. "Same time next week?"
"Uh, sure. See you then." Vorberg nodded at her and headed for the locker rooms. Anny went over to one of the benches and sat down, watching the other pairs working out. Fencing! When she'd been with the 42nd Infantry, they had been close-combat-mad and had competitions and a regimental champion and Anny had assumed that the 61st would be the same. Wrong! Here it was fencing. Or they called it fencing, but it was not just swords; they competed with a wide variety of edged and non-edged weapons. Foils, epees, sabres, battle axes, quarterstaffs, halberds, you name it. And it wasn't just ritualized combat like she was doing here, some of it was serious: combat training in power armor with toned-down versions of the hammers and maces the ordnance sergeant had shown her.
That meant this was all mandatory. Not just the training, but the other competitive fencing, too. Two nights each week, the officers' gymnasium was converted to a fencing salle. Everyone was expected to participate and anyone with any real skill had to be on the teams that the regiment boasted. There were competitions and tournaments with other regiments and with teams from private clubs and schools. It had been like that at the Academy with the sports teams, too, of course. Soccer, thugby, crossball, and fencing, too, there were teams for all of them. But for some reason no one had even asked Anny to try out for those teams and for once she had been more than happy to be excluded. She had had better things to do with her time. Poor Patric Mederov had been a natural for thugby and he'd nearly flunked out due to demands it had put on his time.
But here in the 61st it was a matter of regimental tradition. The original Vorlinton Guards, centuries earlier, had once made a legendary bayonet charge which had broken the enemy and won the battle and forever after they'd prided themselves in that. It was the whole 'give them the cold steel!' thing and there was no escaping it. Anny wasn't even sure she wanted to escape it. She'd only had a few sessions so far but it did look like some of it might be fun. More fun than close-combat, anyway. And she had been looking for a way to become a part of things…
"Care to give me a touch, Lieutenant?" Anny looked to her right and saw several men in fencing gear looking back at her. The one who'd spoken looked familiar somehow.
She stood up. "Uh, sure, Mister…"
"Vorkerkas, Adrien Vorkerkas at your service." He made a tiny bow. A chill went through Anny. This was the jerk who'd nearly started a fight with Jer and Alby a few days earlier. Somehow she couldn't believe this was just a chance encounter. But it was too late to back out now. Vorkerkas led the way to an unoccupied piste and Anny followed. For some reason a half-dozen other men trailed along. I don't think I like this…
They took their positions and immediately Vorkerkas attacked. She managed to fend him off for a while but eventually he scored on her with a hard thrust. Her jacket was padded, but it still hurt a bit. She'd been told that the padding was deliberately left thin enough to punish the fencer when scored upon. "Well done," she said.
"You'd do better if you kept your elbow more in line with your body," suggested one of the watchers with a grin.
"I think he's right," said Vorkerkas. "Again?"
Were they looking for her to give up and quit? "Why not?"
They went at it again and she managed to hold him off longer this time, but he still scored on her in the end. "Best of five?" asked Vorkerkas. She nodded. The next round Anny found her rhythm and did better, attacking as well as defending. This seemed to surprise Vorkerkas and he was surprised even more when she darted her foil past him to score a touch. This produced several guffaws from the audience, which had grown.
"Two to one," said Anny.
"Yes," said Vorkerkas. "En garde."
This round went on quite a while with Anny and her opponent advancing and retreating up and down the piste. He was clearly much more experienced, but she had an edge in speed and reflexes, she thought. And several times he could have scored on her except that he made exaggerated lunges that delayed him just long enough for her to twist aside. But if they had landed… was he deliberately trying to hurt her? She watched for him to do it again. When he did, she was ready. She deflected his thrust and then instantly counterattacked and scored. "Two-all," she said, trying not to grin.
"Yes," said Vorkerkas, stepping back. "For the match, then." He came at her again. Back and forth they went, thrusting and parrying. Then Vorkerkas lunged again. Anny partially deflected his blade but it caught her on the upper arm and a jolt of pain yanked a gasp from her as his sword bent nearly double. The speaker in her helmet gave a sharp ping instead of a buzz.
"Not a touch, Adrien," chuckled one of the watchers. "Outside the target zone. Still Two-all."
Vorkerkas stepped away and saluted with his weapon. "You're quite good with the foil, Lieutenant. But I prefer the sabre, myself. Are you game?"
Anny hesitated. The sabre was a different weapon with a different set of rules. You could score with the sides of the blade, not just the point, and the whole body above the waist was a legal target. She'd only tried the sabre a few times in her earlier sessions.
"Of course, I understand if you'd rather not. The sabre really is a man's weapon." Vorkerkas was smirking now.
Anny rubbed her arm and frowned. She'd faced shit like this at the Academy often enough to recognize it. He was deliberately goading her. And he could probably make mincemeat out of her with a sabre. She should just claim fatigue and walk away… Damn it… "I'd be happy to give it a try, sir."
"Good! Good!" He grinned broadly and one of the officers produced a pair of sabres almost instantly. Obviously this had been planned. But why? She glanced around at the watching officers. No one from her company, no one that she knew very well… Wait, there's Sven Estaban… The man she'd met her first day here was looking at her with an odd expression. When he saw her looking at him, he turned and moved quickly away. "Ready?" asked Vorkerkas.
She squared off and Vorkerkas came at her. She decided to concentrate strictly on the defense for now and initially she was successful. Vorkerkas' sword came at her from the front, sides, high, low, but she managed to deflect or dodge each strike. He deliberately left himself open to counterattacks several times, but she suspected it was a trap and didn't take the bait. But by not attacking she was leaving Vorkerkas free to plan his attacks carefully and finally he got past her guard and whacked her upper arm painfully. "Hurts a bit, doesn't it?" he chuckled. "Something you have to get used to, Payne." He stopped and chuckled again. "Pain for Payne! I rather like that!" Several of the others laughed. Yeah, I bet you do! Anny held her anger in check and took the ready position.
This time she made a few attacks of her own but Vorkerkas easily blocked them. The movements with the sabre were entirely different from those with the foil and she'd barely ever practiced them. Vorkerkas clearly had. I don't have a chance here. Maybe I should just let him have his three touches and call it quits…
Suddenly Vorkerkas struck low and slashed across her upper thigh. Ow! The sabre's edges weren't sharpened, but it still felt like a whiplash despite her protective trousers. The speaker in her helmet pinged. Below the waist wasn't a legal target.
"Sorry about that," said Vorkerkas. But he didn't look the least bit sorry.
They continued and shortly he managed to slash her other thigh. The first hit was burning like fire and this one was just as bad. "Heavens, I'm out of practice," smirked Vorkerkas. "I better be more careful or this match could take all night."
And that was just what he wanted! Yes, she could see it now: he'd deliberately keep striking her in illegal spots and drag this out as long as he possibly could. Until she quit.
Or until she won.
But she quickly saw that there was no chance of that. He was just too good. Even after she was expecting the low attacks, she wasn't able to take advantage of it and score on him. She started concentrating on defending her legs even though that meant exposing her upper body. She was hoping he'd make the scoring touches and end this one-sided contest, but he didn't. He just wanted to hurt her. Why? What had she ever done to him? When did they ever need a reason? Her thoughts went back to her first year at the Academy…
Vorkerkas' blade darted to one side and Anny twisted to avoid it, but then in a blur of movement he brought it around to her other side and savagely slashed it across her exposed backside.
"Oh nicely done!" cried one of the watchers.
"Well placed!" said another. The watchers all laughed.
"Oops," said Vorkerkas, grinning.
The pain was so intense that Anny had to bite her lip and blink furiously to keep the tears from dripping down her cheeks. Damn! What the hell was she going to…?
"Lieutenant Payne? Is Lieutenant Payne here?" A raised voice attracted everyone's attention.
"Over here," she gasped.
An enlisted man pushed through the crowd of watchers and she was surprised to see that it was Private Kerbeck from her platoon. "Oh, there you are, Lieutenant!"
"What is it, Private?"
"Sergeant Kay needs you at the company office right away, sir. Some sort of emergency."
"What's wrong?"
"Don't know. He just said to come get you ASAP."
"All right, I'm coming." She looked at Vorkerkas, who was frowning. She tossed him her sabre and he caught it. "Sorry, Lieutenant, duty calls. We'll have to continue this another time."
Vorkerkas nodded. "Yes, another time."
Anny hobbled over to her locker and pulled off her protective gear and stuffed them inside. She was wearing her fatigues underneath. She put on her cap and followed Kerbeck out of the gym. She tried not to limp, but Kerbeck slowed his pace to match the best she could do. "You all right, sir?" he asked.
"Fine."
"Bastards," muttered Kerbeck.
"What was that, Private?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Didn't think so."
By the time they reached the C Company barracks, she was able to walk almost normally. She went up the short flight of steps and into the company HQ office. Sergeant Kay was there with a couple of the other sergeants. "What's the emergency, Sergeant?" she asked. Kay jumped to his feet.
"Oh, sorry sir! False alarm! Sorry to call you here for no reason. I should have commed you after I sent off Kerbeck to fetch you."
Anny stood there and stared at him for a moment, a frown growing on her face. "Why did you think you needed to send for me in the first place?"
Kay reddened. "Uh, it was nothing sir. I thought that… well you see… nothing, sir! Nothing at all!"
"Well! Almost lights out," declared one of the other sergeants suddenly.
"Yeah. Big day tomorrow," said another. "G'night, Lieutenant."
"I better check on the boys, sir," said Kay. "See you tomorrow." He went past her out the door. Kerbeck had already vanished.
What the hell was that about? Did they deliberately try to get me away from Vorkerkas and his cronies? How could they have known…? Estaban? Had he tipped off her men? A smile slowly grew on her face.
[Scene Break]
"I'm gonna break his neck!" snarled Jer. "Look at this!"
"Can't," murmured Anny. "M'head doesn't turn that far. But don't stop."
"Hedonist."
"You bet. Mmmm…"
Anny was lying face-down on Jer's bed without a stitch on. He was tending her wounds and if the welt and bruises on her ass were anything like the ones on her thighs and arm they must be spectacular indeed. But Jer was rubbing in a healing ointment and at the moment she was feeling just fine.
"Seriously! You ought to bring Vorkerkas up on charges!"
"For what? Sabre practice? I agreed to fence against him and I could have quit at any time. Not exactly enough to court martial him, Jer."
"He knew you wouldn't quit! He was counting on it!"
"Yup. And I walked right into it. I ought to bring myself up on charges for gross stupidity."
"How can you not be upset?"
"With you doing what you're doing? Right now I couldn't be upset with anything. Mmmm…. Don't think he hit me there, but keep going."
Jer snorted, but did what he was told. "This is just like our first close-combat session at the Academy. Remember? That was a set-up, too."
"Yup. Except this time I made it out with no broken bones and not under arrest. See, I'm improving."
"Yeah, right. By the time you make general you might be able to join a new unit without mussing a hair! But it was lucky you got called away."
"If it was luck. I'm thinking maybe it wasn't."
"Estaban?"
"Don't know who else could have tipped off my men."
"Well, he is an okay guy, I guess…" admitted Jer, grudgingly.
Anny laughed. "Don't be jealous! I doubt he could do this half as good as you are. Mmmm, doubt anyone could…" Jer's hands had now strayed well out of the damage area.
"But I still don't see what Vorkerkas is after," persisted Jer. "He tried to pick a fight with me and then he does this to you. And yes, I know he doesn't need a reason. But we need to be on our guard, Anny. I doubt he'll give up."
"Well, we won't either." She rolled over and grabbed him. "Now shut up and kiss me. We can talk about this later!"
[Scene Break]
"The finest were Vorlinton's Guard;
The Sixty-First is just as hard;
Our arms we wield from star to star
Far from the hills of Barrayar.
Far from the hills and skies of home,
We'll strike at planet, ship or dome;
From Cetaganda to Escobar,
Far from the hills of Barrayar."
Anny listened to the men singing and felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Over sixteen hundred men, slightly out of sync because of the long column, and slightly out of tune because some of them couldn't sing worth a damn, but it was still splendid. The regimental band drowned out the worst of the sour notes as the men roared out the Regiment's marching song.
"The Colonel said: Give them your steel!
And we crushed the foes beneath our heel;
We'll crush our foes both near and far;
For the Emperor! For Barrayar!
Far from the hills and skies of home,
We'll strike at planet, ship or dome;
From Cetaganda to Escobar,
Far from the hills of Barrayar."
She had heard bits and pieces of the song from time to time, but this was the first time she'd heard it sung like this. She found herself listening closely. There had been a notation in the regimental handbook reminding people that the old version of the song was still banned. A little research had revealed the next-to-last line of each verse used to go: From Cetaganda to Komarr, but for political reasons that had been changed to the present version. Supposedly some troops would still sing the old version, but she didn't hear anyone doing that today.
"Be at the ready, on your marks;
Precise as scalpels, fierce as arcs.
For nothing must our honor mar
Learned in the hills of Barrayar.
Far from the hills and skies of home,
We'll strike at planet, ship or dome;
From Cetaganda to Escobar,
Far from the hills of Barrayar."
The tune was taken from an old, old folk song that Anny had heard a hundred times, but it was catchy and stuck in your head. She found herself singing along with the rest.
"Send us your best to do their worst,
They'll break upon the Sixty-First.
And when we're done, we'll leap afar
Back to the hills of Barrayar.
Back to the hills and skies of home,
Done with our march, no more to roam;
From Cetaganda and Escobar,
Back to the hills of Barrayar."*
The song ended and the band took up another march, drums pounding and fifes trilling, as the regiment moved onto the parade ground. The column—band, regimental headquarters, and 1st and 2nd battalions—stretched over half a kilometer from the barracks. Everyone was in their dress greens. There were a lot of people already there waiting for them. Three of the behemoths of the 283rd were lined up at the south end of the field and the crews and support personnel arrayed around them. At the north end were the vehicles, guns and crews of the 32nd Artillery and arrayed between the tanks and the guns, along the west side of the field were the men of the 139th Infantry. The reservists had arrived that morning and after a day getting settled in, they were now on the field with all the other units of the 25th Brigade.
The 61st moved across the field and formed its line in front of the 139th, facing a raised platform that had been erected on the field's east side. The brigade commander, General Vorsilva, would be there with his staff. To the right of the platform were several of the smaller units attached to the brigade: engineers, medical and service personnel. All around the field was a huge crowd of civilian spectators. Apparently the rumors had been right: the 139th had brought their families.
"Battalions… Halt!" shouted out Colonel Fetherbay in a roar that Anny envied. The band stopped playing and everyone halted. "Front!" Everyone faced to the left and there was a commendably small amount of shuffling around as the ranks were dressed. "Order… Arms! Parade… Rest!" Anny lowered her sword and rested her hands on the hilt. She was in the rank of file closers, directly behind her platoon and she looked over her men with satisfaction.
She still hadn't been able to drag the truth out of Sergeant Kay about how he'd known to send Kerbeck to 'rescue' her from Vorkerkas last week, but she supposed it didn't really matter. What was important was that they had saved her. Their lieutenant was in a bind and they'd come get her. They didn't have to—it wasn't a combat situation or their responsibility in any way—but they had. They were accepting her and that's what counted. She felt a warm glow inside.
The General was supposed to give some sort of speech, but there seemed to be a delay and she could see people scurrying around on the platform. Hurry up and wait. It didn't really bother her anymore. She looked to left in hopes of catching sight of Jer with 2nd Battalion, but she couldn't see him. Alby was with the regimental staff.
A distant rumble caught her attention and she glanced behind her. The weather forecast was for thunderstorms late in the day and there had been towering clouds building up beyond the western mountains all afternoon. She hoped Vorsilva's speech didn't run too long or everyone was going to get soaked. Or hit by lightning.
Finally things got straightened out and Vorsilva gave his speech. Anny found it uninspiring and she blanked much of it out. He was just welcoming the reservists and talking about the importance of the reserve system and how vital it was for every citizen to do their bit in defending the Imperium. She only perked her ears up when the General mentioned the large-scale exercise that would be held near the end of the 139th's training month. That ought to be fun.
The thunder was getting louder and she was relieved when Vorsilva finished up and the brigade could pass in review. It was pretty impressive, really, the most troops and equipment she'd seen in one place since the parade celebrating the birth of Princess Kareen back in second year at the Academy. But the storm was coming and as each unit finished passing by the reviewing stand,they headed directly back toward their barracks. No one lingered behind and the spectators were rapidly dispersing. She just had time to dismiss her men and then sprint for the Regimental Officers Mess. A strong wind had come up, swaying the tall pines, and a few fat rain drops were splattering the ground as she went up the steps.
Inside it was crowded and the shelves for their hats were piled high. Swords had to be leaned against the wall because all the hanging pegs were filled. As the home regiment, the 61st was hosting the officers from all the other units. The doors between the mess and the attached gymnasium had been thrown open and extra tables set up in there. Dozens of stewards were bustling about trying to handle the influx. They'd had to set up an annex for the bar. More officers were pushing in behind her. It was pouring outside now.
Anny moved away from the door and through the mess into the gymnasium area which was still relatively uncrowded. Between all the officers from two infantry regiments, several battalions, and brigade headquarters, along with their wives and girlfriends, it might get very crowded indeed. She managed to find Jer and they both got beers and found a place to sit down. "How are things going?" she asked him.
"Not bad," he replied. "No problems with Vorkerkas although we're giving each other as wide a berth as we can. How about you?"
"Good. The platoon is in fine shape. Well mostly."
"Problems?"
"Well, I'm worried about my platoon sergeant, Kay. He's not really carrying the load. He tries, he's not a deadbeat, but he just doesn't seem to have a handle on what the job's all about. I think it's because his last boss was Sergeant Milroy who used to be the platoon sergeant before he was made the acting platoon commander. I suspect that Milroy couldn't bring himself to let go and just sort of did both jobs and let Kay watch. Now I want Kay to do his job and he doesn't know how."
"Have you talked with him?"
Anny sighed. "Not really. I've hinted at it, but I don't seem to be getting through. And… and…"
"And you don't want to come down hard on him because you're new. Yeah, I can see that. Maybe you should talk to the company first sergeant and see if he can get through to Kay. That is part of his job, after all."
"Yeah, maybe I should…"
"Ah, there you are, Lieutenant, we were looking for you." Anny looked up and then sprang to her feet. Colonel Fetherbay was there and with him were General Vorsilva and another colonel who could only be the commander of the 139th, Colonel Downes. All three men had their wives with them.
"Sir." she said. Jer was on his feet, too, but neither of them saluted. No salutes in the Mess.
Fetherbay smiled and then turned to Vorsilva. "General, may I present two of our new lieutenants: This is Lieutenant Payne and this is Lieutenant Naddel."
"Well, no doubt which is which," said Vorsilva, stepping forward to shake hands. He was a beefy middle-aged man with a bushy mustache and thinning hair. His dress greens had an impressive collection of decorations on the chest, too many to decipher at the moment. "Welcome to Fort Vorolson, gentlemen," he said. "I hope you're liking it here."
"Yes, sir," said Anny and Jer in unison.
"Glad to hear that. This is my wife, Penelope, and this is Colonel Downes and his wife, Janice." Greeting were made all around and then Lady Penelope couldn't contain herself anymore.
"Oh, Lieutenant Payne, I've just been dying to meet you! Harold didn't even tell me you were here until last week! Can you believe it? The very first woman in the military—ever!—right here on our base! And he didn't even tell me! And just look at you! You look just like a soldier! That's so wonderful!" Behind Lady Penelope Anny could see Colonel Fetherbay's wife, a nice lady named Sara, and Colonel Downes' wife exchanging glances and rolling their eyes.
Lady Penelope kept rambling on and Anny kept smiling and nodding and the General's frown kept getting darker and darker. Finally Fetherbay broke in: "General, I think I see our other new addition over there. Lieutenant Vorsworth is the grandson of Admiral Vorsworth who died two years back, as you remember. You really ought to meet him, too. He's helping out with the new simulator project." Anny saw Alby across the room and was tempted to yell at him to run, but restrained herself. Vorsilva managed to drag his wife away.
"We must have tea sometime!" she called back to her. Somewhat to Anny's surprise—well, maybe it wasn't so surprising after all—Colonel Fetherbay's wife didn't go along with the others. Anny had met her a few times in the mess, but they'd never really had a chance to talk.
"She means well," said Mrs. Fetherbay, nodding at the General's wife. "Don't be put off by her manner. She misses the bright lights and social events of the capital, I think. You're the only excitement to happen around here in quite a while."
"If she considers me excitement, things must be really dull."
The woman smiled. "Well, you are rather exciting, Lieutenant. At least to some people. In fact, I wanted to ask a favor of you."
"Ma'am?"
"We're having a little get-together of all the officers' wives—from all the units—next week and I was wondering if you'd be willing to come and give a little talk?"
"A talk?" said Anny in surprise. "What about?"
"Why about you, of course. Why you decided to go to the Academy. How you got there. What it was like and how you made it through. There are a lot of us who would really like to know."
"I… I…" stuttered Anny, flustered. "I have duty and…"
"My husband has already said that you can be excused duty for this, Lieutenant."
"I've never done anything like that, ma'am, I don't know if I…"
"Lieutenant… Anny, please," said Mrs. Fetherbay. "I have a teenage daughter. A lot of the other wives have daughters. And some of them… a lot of them are talking about you and what you've done. They want to know—I want to know—what they'll face if they try to do it too."
The woman looked at her so intently that Anny found herself saying yes. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll get the details to you tomorrow." She smiled and went after her husband. Anny plopped back down on her chair.
"Shit."
Jer laughed. "What's the matter? It might be fun."
"I've never done any public speaking!"
"You do it all the time! You commanded a company of cadets and now you command a platoon of assault troopers. That's gotta be harder than talking to a batch of women."
"Easy for you to say," she muttered. A bright flash of light came through the windows followed almost immediately by a loud crack of thunder that shook the whole building. "See? Even the gods are against it."
"You'll do fine, Anny."
Shaking her head, she took a swig of her now-warm beer and tried to decide if she was hungry. Due to the large number of people, dinner was buffet-style tonight. The lines looked pretty long. Maybe she'd wait…
"Holy crap!" cried Alby, who suddenly appeared through the crowd. "I never thought I'd get away from her!"
"Lady Penelope?" smirked Jer.
"Yes! How'd you manage to escape her?"
"The General spotted you and dragged her away. We owe you one."
"You certainly do!" he grabbed an empty chair and carried it over next to theirs. "But I need to talk to you two."
"What about?"
"Vorkerkas."
"Oh dear," sighed Anny. "What now?" She glanced around, but despite the crowd, they seemed to have relative privacy in their corner.
"I might—might!—have figured out why he's taken such a shine to the two of you."
"Really? Why?"
Alby pulled out his ubiquitous computer pad and called up a display. Anny squinted and realized that it was a genealogical family tree of some sort. He pointed to one of the boxes. "Here is our dear Lieutenant Vorkerkas."
"Yeah? So?" asked Jer. "According to that he does have a mother and a father—who would have guessed?"
"Yup," said Alby. "And a grandfather who had a sister who married into another family…" Alby touched the controls and the diagram shifted sideways revealing a bunch of other boxes. "And if you follow this other family tree down a few generations you'll see that it dropped one seriously rotten apple." Anny stared at the box Alby was indicating and her blood ran cold.
"Shit!" snarled Jer "Yosef Vorritter!"
The name seemed to burn into Anny's brain like a hot iron. Vorritter! He'd been a lieutenant on the frigate Swifsure during a short training cruise to Komarr Anny had taken in her third year at the Academy. He'd seemed friendly and helpful, but once they'd reached Komarr… He and three friends had lured her into a tavern with plans to drug and rape her. Only the lucky arrival of Jer and Alby and Patric and Denis Fallon had saved her. Vorritter had been court-martialed, cashiered, and sent to prison. She'd tried to erase him from her memories—with no success.
"Vorkerkas is related to Vorritter?" demanded Jer.
"Second cousins, once removed," confirmed Alby.
"Second cousins! I don't even know any of my second cousins! And if one of them was a criminal I sure wouldn't hold it against his victim if he got thrown in jail! I can't believe that he…"
"The Vor take stuff like this seriously, Jer," said Anny. "Blood ties are a big deal to them."
"Very big," said Alby. "I don't know for sure there's a connection between this and his behavior, but there might be. And if he is out for avenge his family honor, we all need to watch out! I was just as involved in that fracas as you two."
"I suppose we do. But how'd you ever think to look this up?"
Alby shrugged. "He'd made it pretty clear that he was our enemy, so I decided to do some intelligence-gathering. Besides I was bored out of my mind with that bloody simulator job and needed something to do."
"Did you find out anything else we should know?" asked Anny. She didn't need this. She really didn't need this!
"Not so far," replied Alby, shaking his head. "There don't seem to be any other relatives of Vorritter serving here—although there are some others elsewhere. I did hack into Vorkerkas' personal communications and plant a bug, so I'll see if he's planning anything with anyone else."
"Alby, someday you are going to get caught!" Alby was a very skilled computer hacker—as he'd proved several times at the Academy.
Alby just grinned. But then he tapped the computer pad. "Don't expect this to warn us if he is planning anything. We all need to be on guard. And guys? I really think we need to get off the base, out of the BOQ. I know you're worried about the cost, but it still might be best."
"I don't know," said Jer. "We might be safer here."
"If I buy or lease a house, I can have some real defenses installed," said Alby, grinning again. "And keep in mind that it might not just be Vorkerkas. He's got friends in the regiment. We don't know who we can trust here."
"I can trust my men and I think we can trust Estaban," said Anny. "Maybe he'd like to go in on the house."
"That's a thought. Well, I'll take a look again at the market and get back to you. In the meantime, let's eat! I'm starved!" He got up and headed for the buffet.
Anny followed, but she wasn't the least bit hungry.
*Song by Jonathan Cresswell-Jones (with many thanks—again!)