Life wasn't too unendurable in those days. The duties were incredibly
dull, of course, but the danger of sudden death had receded, since only
a few fanatics still tried to pick off us occupation troops. And this
new world of Haldoria's was rich in the things a sensitive and artistic
man appreciates: painting, sculpture, music. Then there was this new
and pleasing thing of living with a woman....
But it wouldn't last long.
Soon there'd be another planet to invade and maybe a space battle with
the great enemy. More years of cramped living and lurking danger, for
in the Empire one was drafted for the duration, and this duration was
now some four hundred years old. The most Trontar Ruxt could expect,
the very most, was to somehow keep alive for another fifty years and
then to retire on a small pension to one of the lesser worlds of the
Empire.
"Trontar Ruxt! Your records show that you're a statistician." My
commanding officer stared at me suspiciously, for a fighting man, even
one on guard duty, distrusts office personnel. And as everyone knows,
"Once a fighting man, always a fighting man." I think my C.O.'s last
action had been thirty years ago.
"I was a statistician before I got in the service, Sir."
"Well, they're screaming over at headquarters for qualified office
personnel, and we have to send them any trained men we have--of any
rank."
"It's for Haldor, Sir," I said. By now I knew the correct answer was
most often the noncommittal one.
I reported to the Headquarters, 27th Invasion Force. The rumor was
that Phase II, Reduction of Inhabitants to Slavery with Shipment to
Haldorian Colonies, was about to start. And also, our Planners were
supposed to be well into Phase III, Terraforming, already. Terraforming
was necessary, of course, to bring the average temperature of earth
down to something like the sub-arctic so that we Haldorians could live
here in comfort. We lost quite a few fighters during invasion when
their cooling systems broke down. Rumor, as always, was dead right; and
the Headquarters was a mad rat-race.
The Senior Trontar of the office was delighted to get another body.
"Took your time getting here, Ruxt! You guard louts don't know the
meaning of time, do you?"