Chapter 20

Dear Mrs. Kominski,

By now you will have gotten the official notification of your husband's death. I just wanted to write to you to express the regrets and sympathy of myself and the entire company. Rolf was a valued member of his platoon, well-liked, hard-working and courageous. He will be sorely missed. He died while involved in…

"Involved in the most fouled-up operation you can imagine!" growled Anny Payne under her breath. She pushed herself away from the desk and ran her hands through her hair. This was the fourth such letter she'd forced herself to write. Four more to go after this one.

She supposed that C Company had been lucky to only have had eight 'really dead' and six more 'almost dead' from the operation. Plus another twelve who were wounded seriously enough to go home with the six cryo-pods and thirty more who would be able to stay to return to duty eventually. Lucky! A third of the company casualties and they called it lucky!

It could have been a lot worse she conceded, but the fact remained that C Company had suffered more serious casualties than the rest of the regiment combined. And all because of that stupid harbor attack!

Technically it was called a coup de main, 'an offensive operation that capitalizes on surprise and simultaneous execution of supporting operations to achieve success in one swift stroke', was how it was defined in the textbooks. She and the rest of C Company would use a different set of words to describe it! She'd done some historical research after they were briefed on the operation and it was clear that this sort of thing was loved by the high command and hated by the people who actually had to carry them out. Sometimes they worked spectacularly, but just as often they failed—spectacularly. And in that context C Company was lucky: all too frequently the coup de main force was annihilated when things went wrong. She'd tried to find out who, exactly, had come up with the idea, but with no success. Probably just as well.

She shook the image of throttling that anonymous staff officer out of her head and pulled herself back to the comconsole. What could she say to Mrs. Kominski that wouldn't sound exactly like the previous letters? She had to assume that the new widows and bereaved mothers might compare notes so she didn't want to just copy each message. Had she ever met Lara Kominski in the women's groups she'd set up at Fort Vorolson? Perhaps she should send a message to Sara Fetherbay, too…

While she was pondering, Jac came into her quarters and started tidying things up. He came behind her and paused. "Ah," he sighed. "Sad duty, that, Miss. The Regiment hasn't had this many transfers to the White Battalion in a long while."

Anny swiveled her chair to face her dog-robber. She always smiled when he forgot and called her 'miss'. But this time she didn't smile. "White Battalion?I've heard some of the other old timers—I mean other veterans—use the term a few times. What's it mean, Jac?"

Now Jac smiled. "It's all right to call me an old timer, sir. No use tryin' to hide the truth." Now his smile became sad. "But White Battalion? Oh, that's just an expression we use sometimes. When a fellow passes on we say he's transferred to the White Battalion. Everyone ends up there sooner or later. The one battalion that's always at full strength."

Ghosts. He means it's a battalion of the dead. Anny was moved and touched and, to her surprise, a little comforted at the thought. She sighed.

"Yeah, a whole new squad reporting in. What do I say to these women, Jac?"

"You're writing all the letters? All eight? But only three were from your platoon."

"Vorstang said that since I was in command I should have the honor. I guess he's right. But I hardly knew some of these men." She looked at him hard, her throat tight. "If it was you making the transfer, Jac, what would you want me to say to Polly?"

Jac looked thoughtful and scratched at an old scar on his cheek. He looked at the screen of her comconsole, reading what she'd written so far. "It's not so much the words, Lieutenant, though these are fine words, it's the fact that you took the time to write 'em. That's what really counts. Polly'd be glad to know that I was worth the writing to you. That she isn't grievin' for me alone. You're doin' fine, just fine."

She looked back at the screen. "I was… angry."

"I know. Sometimes a person can't help but be. Only natural to be when things could have been done better."

"Things should have been done better!"

"Maybe. But a person could drive themselves mad worryin' about all the could-haves and should-haves in the world. The only things worth botherin' with are the right-nows and the first-thing-tomorrows, Lieutenant. You get your mind all wound up with those other things and you're asking for a quick transfer. Wouldn't want that, an' that's the truth."

Anny slowly nodded and then reached out and patted Jac's arm. "Thanks. But don't you think about transferring any time soon, either."

"Don't have any plans to. Gotta watch out for you, Lieutenant."

Anny smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I need a lot of looking after, don't I? Always getting into trouble."

"I was a tad alarmed when I heard about what you did with that bunker, Miss. Not the proper job for an officer."

"Yeah, Captain Vorstang chewed me out pretty good for that." Anny winced at the memory.

"But he was real impressed with how you took command when you had to."

Anny snorted. "Not that he told me!"

"Well of course he wouldn't tell you. But I've got my ways of knowing, Lieutenant, and he was right pleased with you." Anny was a little surprised, but thinking back, Vorstang did say a few things that could almost be taken as compliments during breaks in the chewing out. But how did Jac know what Vorstang felt? The dog-robber network? Probably.

Jac went back to his tidying and Anny forced herself to write the rest of the letters and a short note to Mrs. Fetherbay asking about how the families were dealing with the casualties. She did some more paperwork and then rewarded herself with a break. She had no duty until that evening so she had the whole afternoon to herself. And she needed to be by herself for a while. She buckled on her belt with the hand plasma arc in its holster, put on her cap and left her quarters.

Her quarters were now in a pre-fabricated module that had been flown in from Araxa. They were the same type as they'd been using at the huge base there, but the setting could hardly have been more different. While Fort Gatchall was part of a vast sea of concrete surrounded by large buildings, the regiment was occupying Tamborete in company-sized encampments and C Company's was situated in a pleasant meadow outside the town.

Since their objective was to pacify the island, not conquer it, they were trying to not look like an invading army. Of course they did look like an invading army, but at least a small one. 1st Battalion was garrisoning the big town of Milagres, the one they'd fought to take. The companies were spaced around the outskirts in fortified camps, while battalion and regimental HQs were inside the town itself along with various support troops and the medical companies.

Aside from the initial fighting, things had been peaceful since the Regiment had arrived. There had been a cleverly hidden fortified base inside Milagres but not a lot else on the island. Once the resistance at that base had been neutralized, things had settled down. At least for the moment.

Anny hitched a ride on an armored transport vehicle into town. She'd have preferred to walk and stretch her legs, but things weren't quite settled down to the point that individual soldiers could walk around alone and she didn't want to order up an escort. There were a few other soldiers in the vehicle with her. They nodded to her courteously, but didn't attempt to make conversation, which was fine by her at the moment.

It only took a few minutes to reach the center of town. It wasn't really a large place; population around 25,000 or so, although it was huge compared to the little village Anny had grown up in. There were another 50,000 scattered in smaller towns and villages around the island. Anny had seen a few of those villages and they were a lot more like what she had been used to.

But Milagres was a clean, modern town—or it had been until the 61st and the EnBees had blown the hell out of it. The damage wasn't actually all that bad in most places; the waterfront area was the worst. After the battle they had brought in a battalion of engineers and they were rumbling around with heavy equipment, clearing the rubble and getting the power and water systems back on-line. Anny had heard they would be staying to rebuild wrecked homes and businesses, too.

She wandered around the main square. There were guards posted, many in battle armor, all over. The buildings reminded her a bit of that first place they'd taken shore leave on the way here. What the hell was its name? Lengkeek? Yeah, that was it. Oh yeah, that hotel… Anny smiled. Most of the buildings here were only a few stories high with stucco walls and red roofs, and like Lengkeek there were shaded colonnades along the streets. Of course the natives here were not blue-white nor the plants purple, but the architectural style was similar. The only really big structure was a palace-like affair that had apparently belonged to the local grandee who ran Tamborete. Regimental HQ was there now.

Anny walked the streets without plan, but her feet took her toward the waterfront. She didn't want to see that place again, but her feet took her there anyway. The damage here was the worst and the engineers numerous. There hadn't been many locals on the street even in the center of town, and here they were almost entirely lacking. She walked to where the remains of that bunker lay. She hadn't really had the chance to take a close look at it before and there wasn't much left of it now. Jer's heavy mass driver had really done a job on it. The engineers had already swept up most of the loose debris and apparently they planned to demolish the remains as well.

She stood there a while, replaying her crazy assault in her head. She was lucky to be alive, she decided. Even if she'd managed to get through the force field and plant the demolition charge, her chances of getting safely away would not have been good. Jer had saved her life, no doubt about it.

She turned and headed to one of the undestroyed sections of docks. The tide was going out and she watched as the waters were sucked away at incredible speed. She was amazed to see a boat navigating the rushing waters. A lot of the locals were fishermen and somehow they managed to get in and out of the harbor without getting smashed to pulp. We should have talked to them before we attacked.

The boat quickly dwindled to a speck and then disappeared behind a small island that sat in the middle of the semi-circular harbor. Tamborete, like many of the islands on Novo Paveo, had volcanic origins. The harbor was the ancient remains of a caldera nearly ten kilometers across. The chunk of rock out there marked its center. She found a spot to sit down and watched the sea go away. After a while, the island in the harbor wasn't an island anymore, it was a strangely shaped spire of rock. It was a beautiful day and Anny didn't feel like doing anything at all; her usual restless energy was missing—sucked away like the water.

After a while she felt eyes on her and slowly turned. A small boy was watching from a dozen meters away. He tensed when she turned, but didn't flee. "Hello," she said in Portuguese. She had picked up a little of the local dialect, but only a little. The boy didn't answer. "I am Anny. What is your name?"

The boy considered this for quite a while before replying: "Paulo."

"Hello, Paulo." That just about exhausted her vocabulary and she pulled out her compad with its translator program.

But to her surprise the boy said: "Hello Anny." In English.

"Ah, you speak English?"

"A little. They teach in school. Used to."

"Well, your English is way better than my Portuguese! How do you do?"

"Good. You are Barr-a-ya-ran?" He mangled the last word so badly it took her a moment to realize what he'd asked.

"Yes."

"You soldier?"

"Yes."

"Girl soldier? Not see Barrayaran girl soldiers."

"There aren't many of us yet." Only one technically. But the Second Six graduate this year.

"You fight?"

"Yeah, I fight. When I have to."

"Fight here? Kill EnBees?"

"I fought here. Not sure if I killed anyone. But aren't you an EnBee?"

"No!" said the boy emphatically. "Novo Pavaean! Not EnBee!"

"Ah, I see." So he was a rebel, not a loyalist. A rather small scrawny rebel, but still a rebel. Theoretically, they were on the same side.

He came a bit closer. He had black hair and light brown skin and big brown eyes. He was kind of cute, under a coat of dirt. "You live around here?" she asked.

He pointed. "That way."

"Did… did your home get damaged in the fighting?"

"One hole in wall!" said the boy as if it was a grand thing, making a circular shape with his hands. "But we hide in… in… room under the ground."

"The basement?"

"Yes! My Mama and sis hide there. I want to watch battle, but Mama not let me." He looked sad and disgusted.

"Your mama is very smart. Battles are not things to watch. Very dangerous. What about your father?"

"Gone. Long time." Anny didn't know what to make of that. A long time was a very subjective thing for a kid that age. Gone since before the war or gone since last month? She didn't really want to know.

"That your gun?" asked Paulo, edging closer and pointing at her holster.

"Yes."

"Can I see?"

"No."

He looked disappointed, but with his hand still out Anny noticed that it was discolored and seemed to be hurting him. "What happened to your hand?" she asked. The boy drew it back and frowned.

"Burned. Saw funny piece of metal in ground after battle. Dug up, but still hot." He shrugged. "No problem."

"Can I see?" The boy looked doubtful, but after a bit of coaxing he eventually let her examine his hand. "It's infected," she said but Paulo didn't understand. "Sick in hand. Get more sick. Do you have a doctor?"

"No. EnBees took away doctors. No doctors." The boy looked worried.

"Well then, come along with me. I know some doctors." She got to her feet. But he didn't want to go with her. All her coaxing was in vain this time and Paulo was edging away. Finally, as a last resort, she said: "If you come and see the doctor, I'll let you see my gun."

At that his eyebrows popped up. "See gun?"

"After the doctor."

"Okay! We go!"

Anny smiled and led the way to where the medical company had its facilities, Paulo alternately following along and skipping ahead. Unlike the base at Araxa, here the medics were allowed to treat the locals. Encouraged to, actually. They were here to win 'hearts and minds' and part of that was to also heal bodies. The medical company had a half dozen modules set up in a vacant lot, but they had taken over a building next to it to use as the treatment facility for the locals. A short line wound out the door, but Anny by-passed it and took Paulo around to the side entrance and sought out Chris Tropio.

"Hi Anny!" said the woman. "Say, what have you got there?"

"This is Paulo. Paulo, this is my friend, Chris. Chris, Paulo has got a burn on his hand that I think is infected."

"Well, I'm sure we can fix that up. Hello Paulo," said Chris, switching to Portuguese. She was much better at it than Anny. "Can I see your hand?" The woman's friendly manner seemed to put the boy at ease and he suffered her to take a look at his hand and run some scanners over all of him and even take a small blood sample. "Yes, there is definitely an infection," she said after consulting her instruments. "I'm going to give you a wide-spectrum antibiotic that should take care of things. And I'll bandage up your hand, too."

"Paulo tells me there are no doctors in town. Is that true?" asked Anny while Chris worked.

"Nearly," said Chris frowning. "Apparently during the civil war that was going on before we got here, the two sides tried to grab control of the infrastructure and that included the people who ran it. Doctors, engineers, teachers, most were rounded up by one side or the other. We've had a couple of doctors come out of hiding since we got here and they're helping in the clinic, but for the last six or eight months there's been no real medical service on Tamborete beyond what they could provide in secret. The EnBees were keeping a tight hold on this place."

"So I guess the locals are pretty glad to see you."

"Yeah. For the most part the people seem pretty healthy, although undernourished. But that wasn't going to last much longer without help. The locals were suspicious at first, but more and more are coming to see us."

"Undernourished? But this place is nearly all agriculture and fishing. Were the EnBees taking the food, too?" She reevaluated Paulo's skinny frame.

"A lot of it from what I'm hearing. I guess many of the other farming regions have been fought over a lot and production is way down. Tamborete was spared a lot of that, luckily. There! Paulo, you are all fixed up. And don't you pick at the bandage! It will fall off in good time."

The boy looked his hand over and wiggled the fingers. "Thank you," he said. Then he turned to Anny. "You said I could see gun." Chris turned toward her, frowning accusingly.

Anny blushed and shrugged, "It was the only way I could get him to come with me." She took out her plasma arc, removed the power pack, and confirmed that it was harmless before handing it to the boy. Paulo looked at it delightedly. It was too big for one of his hands so he held it in both and started pointing it around the exam room making zapping sounds.

"Hey! Hey!" cried Anny in mock alarm. "That's no way to handle a gun!" Enlisting Chris' aid as a translator she gave him a quick lesson in gun safety and then eventually repossessed her firearm and put it back in its holster. "Well, I have duty in an hour and I think I better get you home. Come on Paulo."

The boys' home wasn't far away and Anny escorted him there to make sure he stayed out of trouble. While they walked Paulo kept asking questions. "You drive EnBees out?"

"That's the idea."

"And you stay until they gone and not come back?"

"That's the idea."

"How long?"

Anny shook her head. "I have no idea."

[Scene Break]

Lady Akuti Tejaswini Jyoti ghem Estif Arqua Vorpatril lay on a lounge chair, sipping a cold drink, and watched what appeared to be a tidal wave roaring toward her.

"Impressive, huh?" said her husband Ivan Xav from beside her.

"Yes," she said. Actually it was rather frightening even though she knew the churning water would not reach her. Their chairs were perched on a cliff overlooking the northern coast of the main continent, about a hundred kilometers from Araxa. A few weeks earlier they had moved into a new apartment in the diplomatic compound of that city. It was nice enough she supposed, but when they learned that a well-secured resort had been set up by the sea, they ended up spending a lot of their time here. She'd seen the tide come crashing in a dozen times now, but to the space-station bred Tej it was still kind of scary. So much raw power, totally out of anyone's control. The waves reached the base of the cliff and sent up huge splashes of water that soared dozens of meters above their heads. Fortunately, the wind blew the spray back out to sea instead of on to them. The noise was such that they had to speak loudly to be heard.

"Kind of like being back on Ylla," said Ivan Xav. "Not the view, I mean, but there we had a beautiful ocean that we didn't dare to swim in and it's the same here."

"Except that there you got eaten by sea monsters while here you get smashed to bits by the waves. But I agree that it is beautiful."

"Well, there is that one section of beach where you can swim for a half hour or so at high tide."

"No thanks, I'll stick to the pool." They sat there for a while watching the tide come in. Eventually the most violent part of the process was over and the spray and the noise subsided a bit. "What's that way off in the distance? That gray patch on the horizon. Is it another island?"

"Yes, I think that's Tamborete."

"Oh, that's the place your troops captured last month? You were talking about that a lot for a while."

"Uh huh. The brass are quite excited about it. We beat up the EnBees pretty bad during the assault and now the new pacification program seems to be working well."

"I didn't realize it was so close. But this isn't the only place you're trying to do this sort of thing, right? That whole 'new approach' thing?"

"Right. We've got our troops spread out all over the planet. You never really got a look at the base at Araxa before this started, but it's a ghost town now compared to what it was. Not just the Barrayaran contingent, but all the others, too. They're all out trying to pacify the planet one small chunk at a time."

"And is it working?"

"A little too early to tell, but the generals are hopeful. The critical thing is going to be getting the local militias trained so they'll have real security even after our boys leave. And unfortunately, we're not just fighting the EnBees, we have to keep President Rodrigues and his gang at arm's reach, too. The locals just don't trust the revolutionary government and it's hard to blame them."

"But if you are setting these militias up as independent from the central government won't that lead to competition between the two?" demanded Tej. "That could end up meaning hundreds of independent military forces and, why, it could end up the way we run things on Jackson's Whole!" Tej paused, looked at Ivan Xav slyly, and then added: "Not that I'm admitting that is a bad thing, of course."

Her husband looked around to make sure they couldn't be overheard by any of the other people who were enjoying the view. "Yeah, that could well be a serious problem down the road. But from the vibrations I'm picking up, I don't think anyone really cares what happens once we leave here. The objective is to rout out the Enbees, make sure this place can never be used by them as a base, and then get out as soon as we can decently do so. I think Vorpinski is working on some scheme for a simultaneous withdrawal of both us and the Cetagandans so neither one can grab an advantage."

"Huh," said Tej. "Kind of hard on the locals, but I can see that it would make sense for everyone else. So does that mean we can leave before too much longer?"

"Anxious to go home?"

"Starting to get that way," she admitted.

"Well, it will be at least a few more months before anything is decided, but after that, yeah, I think it's time to go home.

"Good."

[Scene Break]

"No! No! Your other left, you worthless bastards!"

Jer Naddel, glanced over his shoulder at the shout, and found himself smiling as Adrien Vorkerkas' training platoon disintegrated into chaos. Half the people had turned one way while the rest had turned the other and the formation had become a milling scrum. More curses rang across the open field they were using a as drill ground, but Jer returned his attention to his own platoon to make sure the same thing didn't happen to it.

The occupation of Tamborete was going smoothly. All the EnBee facilities had been captured and fast-penta interrogations of the prisoners had allowed them to root out a lot of other personnel and sympathizers among the populace. Sadly, all the captured officers had been given the fast-penta allergy conditioning and couldn't be questioned that way. Jer was sure that the Intel people had been hoping to get leads to where the other EnBee bases were hidden, but so far (at least as far as he knew) nothing had been turned up using other methods of interrogation.

Phase one of the operation, seizing the island, was complete. Now it was on to the next phase: creating a stable local government and defense force that could make sure the EnBees didn't come back once the Regiment pulled out. A major part of that was creating a local militia and Jer was one of the officer who had been tapped for that job. It made sense, he supposed; there was almost nothing for the heavy weapons units to do in garrisoning the island. So the officers and many of the NCOs of all three weapons companies and even some of the weapons platoons of the rifle companies had been drafted into the effort.

And so, Jer found himself in command of a 'company' of raw recruits. The island had been divided up into nine recruiting districts, three in the big town of Milagres, and the rest covering the remainder of the island. Training facilities had been set up with tents and support services. The camp Jer was at was located close to where he and 3rd Battalion had made their initial landing. The extinct volcano at the north end of the island towered up beyond the forests.

So far the recruits had only come in a trickle and his company was barely the size of a platoon. But considering that every recruit had to pass a fast-penta exam to declare themselves loyal to the new government and not an EnBee sympathizer, Jer was amazed that they had gotten as many people as they had. They were all young, some extremely young, and to the consternation of many of the Barrayarans training them, about a third of them were women.

There had been some protests about that at first, but there was no getting around it. EnBee society and Novo Pavean, too, naturally, had long ago gotten rid of gender chauvinism and trying to keep women out of the new formations would have wrecked the project before it even got started. Jer, of course, had no problems with it and he was convinced that was why his own company was well over half women while many of the others had a much smaller proportion.

"Companhia, parar! Frente!" Jer had managed to memorize all the basic drill commands in the local language and he was pleased that his troops were responding to them correctly. His company halted and faced front just as he'd ordered. He'd been drilling them all afternoon and their faces were ruddy and sweat-covered, but most still looked eager and interested. He switched on his microphone and translator. "All right, everyone. Well done. You are starting to look like soldiers." He paused while the translation was made and transmitted to the tiny speakers in the troops' ears. Smiles appeared on most of the faces. "We are done for today. Get showered, get some chow, and get some rest. We go back to work in the morning. Questions?"

There was some nervous shuffling in the ranks and then one boy put up his hand. Jer hadn't memorized all the names and faces yet, so he just nodded at him. The boy said something and a moment later the translation came through on Jer's earbud. "Please, noble sir, when do we get our guns?"

"And our uniforms?" said another.

"Yes! We were promised uniforms!"

"And guns!" More voices rang out.

"Quiet in the ranks!" roared Jer. A guilty silence followed and Jer scowled at them for a good minute.

"You will be given guns and uniforms when you have earned them!" he said. "Guns do not make soldiers! Uniforms do not make soldiers! It is what is in here…" he tapped his head, "…and in here…" he thumped a fist over his heart, "… that makes soldiers! When you have proved yourselves worthy, you will be given uniforms and guns!" He let the translator work on that for a few moments and then let it sink in for a few more. "However… you are all doing well. It will not be too much longer until you receive what you are asking for." A translation-delayed cheer followed and now they were all smiling again. "All right. Enough for one day. Companhia! Atencao! Liberar!"

The troops snapped to attention and then broke ranks, chattering excitedly. Nearly all of them headed toward the tents which had been set up for their use. Jer turned and walked toward the modules the Barrayarans used. He quickly realized that he wasn't alone. One of the trainees, a young woman, was following along a few steps behind. She smiled shyly when he looked at her. "Yes?" he said. "You want something, recruit?"

She let loose a rapid string of Portuguese that Jer couldn't hope to follow. His translator made a valiant attempt, produced a few incoherent words in English, and then beeped plaintively. Jer made a calming gesture with his hands. "Slow down. Devagar!" The girl put a hand over her mouth and blushed. She tried again, speaking much slower.

"Sir Naddel," said the translator, "I wanted to thank you for all your help. You are so patient with us. Much more patient than…" she glanced toward where Vorkerkas was still trying to get his troops back in some sort of order. "…than some of the others. You are a very grand officer."

"Oh, well thank you, Recruit… ah… Levine. You are all working very hard."

The girl seemed delighted that he'd remembered her name, even though it was pinned to her shirt. He started walking again, but she stayed right with him. "Some of my comrades are too eager. I tell them to have patience, just as you do. But they mean no insult to you, sir."

"Oh, I know that," said Jer. "They are good people and will make good soldiers." Another dazzling smile from the girl. She was almost a full head shorter than Jer and really very pretty.

"I can do other things than march," she said. "Cook, clean… other things. You just ask!" She looked at him with big, dark eyes.

Jer blinked. Was she actually flirting with him? He knew that among the mixed companies quite a lot of… shenanigans, as Anny would say, were going on—but with each other! It hadn't really occurred to him that it might extend beyond… A nasty thought struck him: were the other Barrayaran trainers taking advantage of this? Definitely not good for discipline.

"Ah, w-well, thank you, recruit," he stammered. "If I need anything I'll let you know. Now you need to get back with your comrades." He pointed toward the tents.

The girl's face fell for an instant, but then she laughed. "Yes sir!" She gave him an exaggerated salute and then ran off. Jer watched her go.

"Everything all right, Mister Naddel?"

Jer spun around and there was Captain Andronov watching him. A half-smile was on his face.

"Uh, yessir! The recruits are enthusiastic and willing—to learn, I mean!. We just need some more of them."

"Yes. And you're doing a good job with them. I wish everyone was doing as well." Andronov paused and pointed to where the girl was trotting away. "But watch out for that sort of thing. It's crazy enough around here as it is. We don't need to add any more craziness, do we?"

"Uh, no sir! That's for sure!"

"Good. Carry on."

Jer saluted and Andronov went back into his office module. Jer let out his breath.

Crazy? That's for sure!