Intrepid

''Be careful what you say, Major,'' Cortez said behind his hand. ''You don't want the psalm singers to think that we don't know what we're doing.''

Zhukov glanced around, saw troops in white coats carefully looking away from the command unit … but not closing their ears. ''But we don't,'' he said softly.

''I know that. You know that, but we must not have anyone else even thinking that. Put on your game face,'' the colonel said, glancing at the sky. The midafternoon sun glared down at him. He eyed the map, then stabbed his finger at what he saw.

''There. There is heat. See, Zhukov. See. Troops have occupied the ditches.''

The officer came to peer over his commander's shoulder. ''No visuals of anything but bushes and trees,'' he pointed out.

''As there is here,'' Cortez said, waving at the screen well ahead of him. ''But there weren't any heat signatures in the trenches before. Now there are.''

''Do we attack them this afternoon?''

Cortez measured the distance, both across country and along the winding road, then shook his head.

''No, too far to go, and our troops are tired. Beside, the faster we push them, the more step into these so-called ferret holes. No, let's plan to camp here, a good four miles away from them tonight. We can walk the psalm singers in early and fight in the cool of the morning.''

Zhukov preened. ''And we can get the Guard to bed early. They will have no problem with a little walk in the dark, no matter how wet it is. It's time we started telling the drummer what the dance will be.''

31

As Kris spread her troops over three farmsteads for the night, she had two problems. How to get the most out of tomorrow's misfire at the dugouts was something she'd enjoy batting around with Jack and Gunny. The quality of her volunteers and their exact behavior in a real firefight tomorrow wasn't likely to be resolved tonight. Still, tonight was all the time she had to patch something together.

She started with a small meeting of her best. She'd hardly mentioned how much she wanted some human control over how the dugout ''battle'' played out before Sergeant Bruce stepped forward.

''If Nelly would be kind enough to give me some nanos, I think I can make things happen just the way you want it, Your Highness. Nothing special, Nelly, just make them wag their tails when they see something.''

''Computers have no tails to wag, Sergeant,'' the computer made clear in a rather schoolmarmish voice. But in the next second Nelly had switched to the voice of a twelve-year-old, tickled that the game was afoot. ''But I can rig a couple of nanos to squeak so that only someone listening for the precise squeak could tell it isn't just part of the background noise. What kind of nanos do you want?''

Jack failed to hide a grin. Kris just shook her head. Nelly was developing so many different personalities … and trotting them out so fast … that even Kris never knew what to expect when she talked to her computer. It could be all fun and games, but could Nelly become unreliable?

Kris had to make time to talk to Auntie Tru about her favorite pet computer.

But Sergeant Bruce was having no problem. ''Motion sensors, both for air and water. At least, if I was attacking the dugouts, I'd have that heavy infantry walk in from the wet side. Oh, and some nanos to set the fireworks off in a cascading daisy chain. If I understand your intent, Captain, Your Highness, the object is to make the colonel the laughingstock of his troops. Any casualties are kind of icing on the cake.''

Jack eyed Kris, who found herself grinning happily.

''Yes, Sergeant,'' Jack said, ''I think you read your commander's intentions perfectly.''

''Nelly, how long to forge the nanos?'' Kris asked.

''I've been done it seems like just way foreverrrrr,'' Nelly said, sounding far too much like that certain twelve-year-old girl who now infested Kris's ship.

For a moment, Kris wondered how Cara was making out, with her teacher groundside. She'd probably spent the time wrapping Professor mFumbo and his helpless boffins around her little finger. The girl did not belong on a warship. Kris would have to do something about that.

Just as soon as she got some invaders to leave this planet. And did something about the mess on Xanadu. She had come out here to resolve that problem. Couldn't forget that bunch of nuts. Hopefully, Cara wouldn't have to wait too long, but Xanadu did come ahead of her. Just as this bunch of uniformed bandits had somehow gotten ahead of Xanadu.

Kris doubted the Guides of Xanadu could get into much mischief while she was stuck in the mud here.

''Sergeant Bruce, could you hold out your personal computer?'' Nelly didn't quite order. The Marine did.

''I've transmitted subroutines and the nanos to your machine. You must talk to Kris about a computer a bit more capable.''

''Nelly!'' Kris snapped.

''Yes, Kris. But you really should. At least for the noncoms who you use a lot.''

''As you were,'' Kris growled.

''I am not in the Navy. You can't order me around.''