TW03 The Pimpernel Plot NEW by Simon Hawke Read Free Book Online

in period, but Lucas’ insignia of rank was clearly visible on his armband and the fact that they were in a shuttle normally reserved for officers clearly labeled them for the groups of soldiers waiting to clock out. Those who were close enough as the shuttle passed to see their silver dog tags, worn on the outside of their garments, and their divisional insignia added small, respectful nods to their salutes. From the point of military etiquette, it wasn’t strictly proper to give a nod of greeting while saluting, but it had become an informally established practice among the members of the corps to single out those in the First Division in this manner. The silver dog tags stood out in marked contrast to the color coded ones issued to the regular troops. Members of the Observer Corps wore gold tags and only soldiers of the First Division wore silver. The tags meant that the wearer was about to clock out to the Minus Side and silver tags meant an adjustment team was on the way to deal with an historical discontinuity.
    There wasn’t a single soldier in the Temporal Corps who did not know the meaning of those silver tags and the nods were both a greeting and an unspoken wish of good luck.
    Andre still marveled at the sight of all those soldiers dressed in period, waiting around the sprawling plaza beside their piles of gear. Some smoked, some drank, others chatted, a few slept, and the green recruits were easily identifiable by their air of nervous tension and their restlessness. They passed a group of Roman legionnaires in breastplates, sandals, and plumed helmets gathered around a video game machine. They took turns pitting their skills against the game computer and they laughed and shouted like small children, slapping each other on the back and calling out encouragement. A platoon of Visigoths snapped to attention as they passed, quickly palming several tiny metal sniffers which they had been passing back and forth. On past a group of Crusaders, with red crosses on their chests, among whom was an obvious green recruit who, in his nervousness, had been swinging a short mace about. At the sight of the shuttle, the recruit snapped to attention and, without thinking, tried to toss off a sharp salute. Unfortunately, he had tried to salute with the hand that held the mace and the resulting “bong” as he coshed himself and fell to the floor with a clatter of metal brought about hysterical laughter from his companions.
    The ground shuttle brought them to the gate of the departure grid, a large, permanently installed chronoplate that differed from the portable personal units in that it could transport whole platoons of soldiers at a time. The Barbary pirates standing by to clock out next hurriedly made way for them as they walked through the gate to report to the grid transport detail. The OC came to attention and saluted. Lucas returned his salute, then removed his armband with his rank insignia upon it, surmounted by the divisional pin, and handed it to the OC along with his silver dog tags. Andre did the same.
    The Officer in Charge separated the dog tags, taking one each off the chains and then placing the single tags with the chains along with their armbands and insignia in separate plastic boxes. With a “By your leave, sir,” he then proceeded to search Lucas quickly and efficiently, as per regulations, to make certain that no unauthorized effects would be clocked out along with him, either intentionally or unintentionally. Another member of the detail observed the same procedure with Andre. The man who searched Andre came up with her credit disc, to her embarrassment. She had forgotten all about it.
    “Sorry, sir,” she said to the sergeant. “I must have transferred it to my pocket without thinking when I changed.”
    “Don’t worry about it, soldier. Happens all the time.” He placed the computer disc into the same plastic box containing her armband and dog tag.
    The OC then took the two tags that he had