Starship Troopers

Maybe—But I didn't want to chance it.

I clicked to my private circuit. "Sarge—"

"Yes, sir?"

"You might as well get a nap. I'll be on watch. Lie down and prepare to sleep... one... two—"

"Excuse me, sir. I have a suggestion."

"Yes?"

"If I understand the revised plan, no action is expected for the next four hours. You could take a nap now, and then—"

"Forget it, Sarge! I am not going to sleep; I am going to make the rounds of the listening posts and watch for that sapper company."

"Very well, sir."

"I'll check number three while I'm here. You stay there with Brumby and catch some rest while I—"

"Johnnie!"

I broke off. "Yes, Captain?" Had the Old Man been listening?

"Are your posts all set?"

"Yes, Captain, and my odd numbers are sleeping. I am about to inspect each post. Then—"

"Let your sergeant do it. I want you to rest."

"But, Captain—"

"Lie down. That's a direct order. Prepare to sleep... one... two... three—Johnnie!"

"Captain, with your permission, I would like to inspect my posts first. Then I'll rest, if you say so, but I would rather remain awake. I—"

Blackie guffawed in my ear. "Look, son, you've slept for an hour and ten minutes."

"Sir?"

"Check the time." I did so and felt foolish. "You wide awake, son?"

"Yes, sir. I think so."

"Things have speeded up. Call your odd numbers and put your even numbers to sleep. With luck, they may get an hour. So swap ‘em around, inspect your posts, and call me back."

I did so and started my rounds without a word to my platoon sergeant. I was annoyed at both him and Blackie—at my company commander because I resented being put to sleep against my wishes; and as for my platoon sergeant, I had a dirty hunch that it wouldn't have been done if he weren't the real boss and myself just a figurehead.

But after I had checked posts number three and one (no sounds of any sort, both were forward of the Bug area), I cooled down. After all, blaming a sergeant, even a fleet sergeant, for something a captain did was silly.

"Sarge-"

"Yes, Mr. Rico?"

"Do you want to catch a nap with the even numbers? I'll wake you a minute or two before I wake them."

He hesitated slightly. "Sir, I'd like to inspect the listening posts myself."

"Haven't you already?"

"No, sir. I've been asleep the past hour."

"Huh?"

He sounded embarrassed. "The Captain required me to do so. He placed Brumby temporarily in charge and put me to sleep immediately after he relieved you."

I started to answer, then laughed helplessly. "Sarge? Let's you and I go off somewhere and go back to sleep. We're wasting our time; Cap'n Blackie is running this platoon."

"I have found, sir," he answered stiffly, "that Captain Blackstone invariably has a reason for anything he does."

I nodded thoughtfully, forgetting that I was ten miles from my listener. "Yes. You're right, he always has a reason. Mmm... since he had us both sleep, he must want us both awake and alert now."

"I think that must be true."

"Mmm... any idea why?"

He was rather long in answering. "Mr. Rico," he said slowly, "if the Captain knew he would tell us; I've never known him to hold back information. But sometimes he does things a certain way without being able to explain why. The Captain's hunches -- well, I've learned to respect them."

"So? Squad leaders are all even numbers; they're asleep."

"Yes, sir."

"Alert the lance of each squad. We won't wake anybody... but when we do, seconds may be important."

"Right away."

I checked the remaining forward post, then covered the four posts bracketing the Bug village, jacking my phones in parallel with each listener. I had to force myself to listen, because you could hear them, down there below, chittering to each other. I wanted to run and it was all I could do not to let it show.

I wondered if that "special talent" was simply a man with incredibly acute hearing.

Well, no matter how he did it, the Bugs were where he said they were. Back at O. C. S. we had received demonstrations of recorded Bug noises; these four posts were picking up typical nest noises of a large Bug town— that chittering which may be their speech (though why should they need to talk if they are all remotely controlled by the brain caste?), a rustling like sticks and dry leaves, a high background whine which is always heard at a settlement and which had to be machinery -- their air conditioning perhaps.

I did not hear the hissing, crackling noise they make in cutting through rock.

The sounds along the Bug boulevard were unlike the settlement sounds— a low background rumble which increased to a roar every few moments, as if heavy traffic were passing. I listened at post number five, then got an idea -- checked it by having the stand-by man at each of the four posts along the tunnel call out "Mark!" to me each time the roaring got loudest.

Presently I reported. "Captain—"

"Yeah, Johnnie?"

"The traffic along this Bug race is all moving one way, from me toward you. Speed is approximately a hundred and ten miles per hour, a load goes past about once a minute."