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Updated: June 12, 2025
Good girl, he thought; she's started playing on the Army team, and about time! "Well, of course...." Keaveney began. Then he stopped, as a Terran sergeant came up to the table and bent over Barney Mordkovitz' shoulder, whispering urgently. The black-bearded brigadier rose immediately, taking his belt from the back of his chair and putting it on.
"My God, I thought Don Quixote was a Spaniard, instead of a German!" "Argentino," von Schlichten corrected. "And don't try to sell me that Irreplaceable-Man, either. Them M'zangwe can replace me, Hid O'Leary can replace him, Barney Mordkovitz can replace him, and so on down to where you make a second lieutenant out of some sergeant. We've been all over this last evening.
"Where's Colonel Quinton?" he asked. "She ought to be taking a turn in the sack, now." "She's taking one," Major Falkenberg told him. "General Mordkovitz chased her off to bed a couple of hours ago, called me in to take her place, and then went out to replace me. Colonel Guilliford's in the hospital; got hit about thirteen hundred. They're afraid he's going to lose a leg." More reports came in.
In fact, it was when Rakkeed came here that the condition General Mordkovitz was speaking of began to become conspicuous." Von Schlichten nodded. "And I might say that Lieutenant-Governor Blount has reported from Keegark, where he is now, that the same unnatural absence of hostility exists there."
"I'll see what Them M'zangwe can do about transport; get what force you can started for Konkrook at once." He left the booth. "Barney!" he called. "General Mordkovitz! Who's the ranking officer in direct contact with the Eighteenth Rifles? Major Falkenberg?" "That's right." "Well, tell him to get as many of his Kragans as he can spare down to the equipment-park." He turned to Inez Malavez.
At 1100, Paula Quinton and Barney Mordkovitz virtually ordered him to get some sleep. He went to his quarters at Company House, downed a spaceship-captain's-size drink of honey-rum, and slept until 1600.
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