Kinder des Schicksals 4 (Xeelee 9): Resplendent

soft flesh can win the day. Our humanity is our only, our final
weapon, and that is how we will win.’ As he talked his broad face was
alive with a kind of pleasure.
    Around Luca the squads of children went through their routine of
training, punishment, reward and abuse, their young minds shaped like
bits of heated metal. He conjured up the face of Teel, her soft
humanity above the stiff collar of the military uniform.
    Dolo was watching him again. ’You’re thinking of the lovely
Captain. This is where she came from.’ He waved a hand. ’An inductee
into this dismal boot camp, here on New Earth, she was a tough
fighter. Saw her first action at twelve, survived, went back for
more. Why do you think I brought you here?’
    Luca, bewildered, looked down at the dirt.
    Dolo, at random, beckoned a small boy standing in a row of others.
With a glance at his overseer the boy came running and stood at
attention before them. His eyes were bright, lively. Dolo bent down
and smiled. ’Do you know who we are?’
    ’No, sir,’ snapped the boy.
    ’Then who are you?’
    ’Who I am does not matter. Sir,’ he appended hastily.
    ’Good. Then what are you?’
    ’I am a little boy now, and I must study. But when I am big enough
to operate a weapon I will join the unending war, and avenge those
who have fallen, and fight for the future of mankind.’
    Dolo straightened up. Luca would have sworn he could see a tear in
his eye. ’Novice, it has taken us twenty thousand years - perhaps
even longer - to get to this point. But, step by step, we are
reaching our goal. I give you the child soldier: the logical future
of mankind.’
    When Dolo nodded dismissal the boy turned away and walked back to
his section. Luca could see he was struggling to contain his youthful
energy, trying not to skip or run.
     
    When they got back to the Rock, an evacuation and hasty
re-equipping was underway. Non-combatants were removed from the Rock,
equipment, stores and people hurried underground, weapons, sensor and
drive emplacements rapidly completed and tested. Meanwhile the
troopers were checking their skinsuits and other kit, and injecting
themselves with mnemonic fluid, a record which might help the
military analysts reconstruct whatever happened to them.
    It turned out that orders had been changed. The Rock was to be
hurled on its new mission to the Front in just a few more days, weeks
ahead of the old schedule. Perhaps, Luca thought with a shiver, the
prognosticating librarians on distant Earth had discerned some
shifting in their misty maps of the future, and the Rock was to be
sent to secure some famous preordained victory - or to avert some
predetermined disaster.
    But for him the most important consequence of this chain of events
was that he was to be taken off the Rock and flown out to another
station, while Teel was to ride the Rock once more to the Front
itself.
    He hurried to her quarters.
    Aside from a small bathroom area there were just two pieces of
furniture, a simple bed and table. She was sitting on the bed
studying a data desk. The top button of her uniform was undone; he
found his eyes drawn to the tiny triangle of flesh that showed
there.
    She put down the desk. ’I knew you would come.’
    ’You did?’
    ’You have learned about the new orders. Your emotions are
confused.’
    Tentatively he sat beside her on the bed. ’I’m not confused. I
don’t want to be parted from you.’
    ’Do you think I should defy my duty? Or you yours?’
    ’No. I just don’t want to lose you.’
    Her blue eyes were wide, deep as oceans. ’It’s not that. You’ve
been to New Earth. Now you know where I come from - what I am. You
want to save me, don’t you?’
    He was hot, miserable, perplexed. ’I can’t tell if you are mocking
me.’
    She took his hand and enclosed it in hers. ’Go home.’
    ’Take me with you,’ he said.
    ’What?’
    It was as if he was framing the thoughts even as the words emerged
from his mouth. ’To the Front. Give me a posting on the Rock.’
    ’That’s absurd. You’re a Commissary - a Novice at that. You don’t
have the training.’
    He let his voice harden. ’I could surely be as useful as the
twelve-year-old conscripts who will be riding with you.’
    ’Do you know what you will face?’
    ’I know you will be there.’ He moved his face closer to hers, just
a little, until he could feel her breath on his mouth. It was his
last voluntary act.
    Her passion was primal, like the way she ate, as if