But his father was chuckling. "You have spirit, captain. I need spirit
now. You are quite correct. My son, though a capable officer, I assure
you, has probably not participated in a fraction of the fracases you
have to your credit. However, there is something to be said for the
training available to we Uppers in the academies. For instance, captain,
have you ever commanded a body of lads larger than, well, a _company_?"
Joe said flatly, "In the Douglas-Boeing versus Lockheed-Cessna fracas we
took a high loss of officers when the Douglas-Boeing outfit rang in some
fast-firing French _mitrailleuse_ we didn't know they had. As my
superiors took casualties I was field promoted to acting battalion
commander, to acting regimental commander, to acting brigadier. For
three days I held the rank of acting commander of brigade. We won."
Balt Haer snapped his fingers. "I remember that. Read quite a paper on
it." He eyed Joe Mauser, almost respectfully. "Stonewall Cogswell got
the credit for the victory and received his marshal's baton as a
result."
"He was one of the few other officers that survived," Joe said dryly.
"But, Zen! You mean you got no promotion at all?"
Joe said, "I was upped to Low-Middle from High-Lower, sir. At my age, at
the time, quite a promotion."
* * * * *
Baron Haer was remembering, too. "That was the fracas that brought on
the howl from the Sovs. They claimed those _mitrailleuse_ were post-1900
and violated the Universal Disarmament Pact. Yes, I recall that.
Douglas-Boeing was able to prove that the weapon was used by the French
as far back as the Franco-Prussian War." He eyed Joe with new interest
now. "Sit down, captain. You too, Balt. Do you realize that Captain
Mauser is the only recruit of officer rank we've had today?"
"Yes," the younger Haer said dryly. "However, it's too late to call the
fracas off now. Hovercraft wouldn't stand for it, and the Category
Military Department would back them. Our only alternative is
unconditional surrender, and you know what that means."
"It means our family would probably be forced from control of the firm,"
the older man growled. "But nobody has suggested surrender on any terms.
Nobody, thus far." He glared at his officer son who took it with an easy
shrug and swung a leg over the edge of his father's desk in the way of a
seat.
Joe Mauser found a chair and lowered himself into it. Evidently, the
foppish Balt Haer had no illusions about the spot his father had got the
family corporation into. And the younger man was right, of course.
But the Baron wasn't blind to reality any more than he was a coward. He
dismissed Balt Haer's defeatism from his mind and came back to Joe
Mauser. "As I say, you're the only officer recruit today. Why?"
Joe said evenly, "I wouldn't know, sir. Perhaps freelance Category
Military men are occupied elsewhere. There's always a shortage of
trained officers."
Baron Haer was waggling a finger negatively. "That's not what I mean,
captain. You are an old hand. This is your category and you must know it
well. Then why are _you_ signing up with Vacuum Tube Transport rather
than Hovercraft?"
Joe Mauser looked at him for a moment without speaking.
"Come, come, captain. I am an old hand too, in my category, and not a
fool. I realize there is scarcely a soul in the West-world that expects
anything but disaster for my colors. Pay rates have been widely posted.
I can offer only five common shares of Vacuum Tube for a Rank Captain,
win or lose. Hovercraft is doubling that, and can pick and choose among
the best officers in the hemisphere."