Read Online Not For Glory by Joel Rosenberg - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joel Rosenberg
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Fantasy Fiction; American, Science fiction; American
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Shimon."
Levine tapped a flimsy. " 'Freiheimers,' he says, 'are rivetting their tanks. I know something else of use to you. But I am valuable where I am.' Through no coincidence, I'm sure, emissaries of both Freiheim and Casalingpaesa are offering for Metzada's services. We've meetings scheduled with both for just about a thousand hours from now, at the Thousand Worlds preserve on Thellonee."
He indicated Alon with a jerk of his chin. "David's leading a negotiating team. Tetsuo, we want you to go in under cover of it and talk to Shimon."
His face was grim. On matters of business, my boss's face is always grim. One of the things I like about him is that he never bullshits me, never tells me that I've got an easy one.
"It's not all bad." DCSOPS Alon grinned. "Both sides are so jittery they're each paying for travel and the rooms—so we make a profit, even if we turn both down. Which we won't; Freiheim will make an acceptable offer for a regiment to act as cadre, if nothing else. Going to be a deal."
Ari opened his mouth, and then closed it. I knew how he felt.
Ari earned his captain's bars on Neuva Terra under Shimon, fighting for the Casas, fighting the Freiheimers. Ari spent a lot of that time leading Casas; in fact, his first Metzadan command came later, on another world.
But it's credits that keep Metzada spinning. If the money was right, we'd sign on with Freiheim.
That's something even young light colonels ought to understand; it is something people with stars on their shoulders must. Metzada is a fragile operation, all too often; we need the offworld credits and the goods that they bring, and Freiheimer money is just as good as Casalingpaesan. Better, when there's more of it.
Levine smiled. "It seems that Shimon feels the same way you do. Does that suggest anything to any of you?"
Ari and Zev shook their heads.
"Nothing," I said, "except that it's important. And not obvious. And that he's in some kind of trouble or he wouldn't have been so cryptic. He wants us to bust him out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into." My uncle wouldn't have arranged a courier-carried message if it weren't important; he wouldn't have put it in the clear if its use were manifest.
"All true." Levine pursed his lips. "The first part didn't suggest anything to me, until I ran it by a couple of Armor boffins."
"Good men," Alon said. "They're working on the new Maccabee XI—"
"David," Levine said, stopping him. Technically, head of Section and DCSOPS are independent, and equals, but Levine reported daily to the premier; even the chief of staff sees the premier only weekly.
"Sorry."
Levine pushed his glasses back. "It seems that the old NAF Army—"
"United States Army," Alon put in. "Pre-NAF. Pre-unification."
"Quite. Well, it seems that for a while, on one model of tank, they used riveted hulls."
"World War II. M3 tanks."
"Trying to save time and money welding a few points." Lev quirked a smile. "Apparently they also saved the time and money a good test would have cost."
"Typical peacetime innovation that shakes right out in combat. It worked just fine," Alon said, "until the tank got hit. Even with a non-killing hit, often some rivets would break loose and rattle around inside."
I shrugged. So what?
Rivka Effron completed the thought. "They raided around the insides of the tank at bullet speeds, rattling right through the tank crews."
Levine eyed me and Zev levelly. We were expected to see the potentials there, in both directions.
Ari didn't; his eyes went wide. "Which means that a Casa armored cav strike would go through German armor like—"
"Freiheimer," Levine corrected patiently. "They are Freiheimers, not Germans."
Knowing Levine, I read it as a serious reproof, but Ari either didn't see that or didn't care. He just sat back in his chair, clearly satisfied, as though all that that meant was that we now had an edge for hiring on with Casalingpaesa, only pretending to deal with the Freiheimers in order to
Levine tapped a flimsy. " 'Freiheimers,' he says, 'are rivetting their tanks. I know something else of use to you. But I am valuable where I am.' Through no coincidence, I'm sure, emissaries of both Freiheim and Casalingpaesa are offering for Metzada's services. We've meetings scheduled with both for just about a thousand hours from now, at the Thousand Worlds preserve on Thellonee."
He indicated Alon with a jerk of his chin. "David's leading a negotiating team. Tetsuo, we want you to go in under cover of it and talk to Shimon."
His face was grim. On matters of business, my boss's face is always grim. One of the things I like about him is that he never bullshits me, never tells me that I've got an easy one.
"It's not all bad." DCSOPS Alon grinned. "Both sides are so jittery they're each paying for travel and the rooms—so we make a profit, even if we turn both down. Which we won't; Freiheim will make an acceptable offer for a regiment to act as cadre, if nothing else. Going to be a deal."
Ari opened his mouth, and then closed it. I knew how he felt.
Ari earned his captain's bars on Neuva Terra under Shimon, fighting for the Casas, fighting the Freiheimers. Ari spent a lot of that time leading Casas; in fact, his first Metzadan command came later, on another world.
But it's credits that keep Metzada spinning. If the money was right, we'd sign on with Freiheim.
That's something even young light colonels ought to understand; it is something people with stars on their shoulders must. Metzada is a fragile operation, all too often; we need the offworld credits and the goods that they bring, and Freiheimer money is just as good as Casalingpaesan. Better, when there's more of it.
Levine smiled. "It seems that Shimon feels the same way you do. Does that suggest anything to any of you?"
Ari and Zev shook their heads.
"Nothing," I said, "except that it's important. And not obvious. And that he's in some kind of trouble or he wouldn't have been so cryptic. He wants us to bust him out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into." My uncle wouldn't have arranged a courier-carried message if it weren't important; he wouldn't have put it in the clear if its use were manifest.
"All true." Levine pursed his lips. "The first part didn't suggest anything to me, until I ran it by a couple of Armor boffins."
"Good men," Alon said. "They're working on the new Maccabee XI—"
"David," Levine said, stopping him. Technically, head of Section and DCSOPS are independent, and equals, but Levine reported daily to the premier; even the chief of staff sees the premier only weekly.
"Sorry."
Levine pushed his glasses back. "It seems that the old NAF Army—"
"United States Army," Alon put in. "Pre-NAF. Pre-unification."
"Quite. Well, it seems that for a while, on one model of tank, they used riveted hulls."
"World War II. M3 tanks."
"Trying to save time and money welding a few points." Lev quirked a smile. "Apparently they also saved the time and money a good test would have cost."
"Typical peacetime innovation that shakes right out in combat. It worked just fine," Alon said, "until the tank got hit. Even with a non-killing hit, often some rivets would break loose and rattle around inside."
I shrugged. So what?
Rivka Effron completed the thought. "They raided around the insides of the tank at bullet speeds, rattling right through the tank crews."
Levine eyed me and Zev levelly. We were expected to see the potentials there, in both directions.
Ari didn't; his eyes went wide. "Which means that a Casa armored cav strike would go through German armor like—"
"Freiheimer," Levine corrected patiently. "They are Freiheimers, not Germans."
Knowing Levine, I read it as a serious reproof, but Ari either didn't see that or didn't care. He just sat back in his chair, clearly satisfied, as though all that that meant was that we now had an edge for hiring on with Casalingpaesa, only pretending to deal with the Freiheimers in order to
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