his forearm and brought the bottom of the tube down sharply on the counter. Startled by the loud swooshing sound, Chalice stepped backwards. Five green balls of light burst above the bunker. They fell quickly towards the valley floor, casting an eerie glow upon the closest huts before disappearing. “That was cool. I wouldn’t mind sending a few of those home. They’d be great for parties.”
“I’ve already sent about ten, really about fifteen; but some of them must have got intercepted. Here comes somebody. Halt! Who is there?”
“Harmon.”
“Okay.”
“Did you guys shoot off a star cluster?”
“No, I think it came from behind us,” Forsythe answered.
“Yeah, I’ll bet. How ’bout cuttin’ the shit? The Captain of the Guard tonight is a real asshole. . . . How’s Chalice doing?”
“All right, we’ve been keeping him away from Payne.”
“That’s good. What watch does Payne have tonight?”
“Second.”
“Good. I’m gonna stay up just to see if I can catch him crashing again. If I do, I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”
“Good idea. Wake me up first if you do. I wanna watch.”
“Okay, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Don : t fuck around anymore.”
As Harmon walked back up the slope, Chalice asked, “What type of guy is he?”
“Damn straight. Him and Hunky — that’s Kovacs — don’t kiss anybody’s ass. Watch out for Preston though.”
“Who’s he?”
“The right guide. Don’t ever trust him. He’s fairly harmless though. Anytime he starts his shit, Harmon gets Hunky to get him off our backs. If he pulls anything with you, just tell Harmon. . . . I’m gonna crash. See you tomorrow.”
At daybreak Tony 5 woke his fire team. Chalice was collecting his gear when Forsythe stopped him. “Just leave it in the bunker. We’ll pick it up after chow. . . . Did you bring a soft cover?”
“No. You mean we have to wear covers even in the bush?”
“Yeah. You wouldn’t get ten feet before some lifer’d stop you. Take the liner out of your helmet and wear it.”
“Where can I get a bush cover?” Chalice asked, referring to the broad-brimmed camouflage hats.
“Our battalion doesn’t issue them. You can’t wear them on the hill anyway. C’mon, let’s go to chow.”
“Man, this is as bad as stateside. What do we do after chow?”
“They’ll split us up into different working parties.”
“What type of working parties?”
“Everything you can think of — building bunkers, unloading supplies, burning shitters, policing the area, you name it.”
“You really make it sound great.”
“Oh yeah, I can’t help but get enthused when I talk about it. See the sign?” Forsythe pointed to a reenlistment poster nailed on the side of a building.
Chalice read it aloud. “ ‘Mac Marine says, It’s a great career, stick with it.’ Well, you know a million Marines can’t be wrong.”
“Oh, they’re not wrong now all right, but that’s because they know how wrong they were when they signed that little white paper.” Forsythe changed the subject. “Did the 105’s bother you much?”
“Those big guns were 105’s. They didn’t start fucking with ’em till I got halfway asleep, then boom. I didn’t know what the hell happened, so I grabbed my rifle and headed for the bunker. Tony was sleeping right in back of it and when I ran by he asked me where the fuck I was going. He said he didn’t hear anything, but that it was probably the 105’s. I can’t believe he heard me walking by, but didn’t hear those guns.”
“You’ll get like that too. You usually hear everything whether you’re asleep or not. If it means danger, then you’ll wake up; but sometimes when you should, you don’t. There’re a lot of dead Marines that’d tell you that if they could.”
When they reached the mess hall, Forsythe walked over to two men, Chalice following behind him. “Professor, no platoon in the Corps is complete unless