Chapter 9

Even the scenery looks different, Catma notes with surprise.

The entire complex has been reborn. Once a gaudy old collection of cracks, holes and tumbledown walls, it now rises, clean and bright in the footlights.

Gone are the bedraggled plants and skinny leafless trees. In their place, magnificent wickwood trees, crowded at their bases with blossom-filled bushes and colorful beds of flowers. Tall, willowy grasses, by gentle breezes swaying.

Rank upon rank of n-visiwrap-capable, battle-hardened T-7 skyships fill the quad at both sides. In one sector e-cannons stand solid and ominous, with silver gleams of evil reflecting from their upright barrels.

Light towers radiate from high above the quad’s four corners, chasing away the shadows and brightening the entire sector with wide cones of brilliance.

The doorway mists silently away, and Catma steps inside. Then chuckles, amazed at what he sees.

His new command has been re-equipped with the most up-to-date instrumentation available. New compudata systems and polished, combat-grade compads. A full rack of divine e-spears is locked to one bulkhead, at the ready.

“May I be of service, sir?”

Catma jerks in surprise, then grouches. “Do not creep up on me like that, Majin. Make a little noise with those boats you call feet.”

Visor Majin grins ear to ear, pleased with his own maneuver.

“Caught you off-guard again, sir?”

Catma growls playfully, toying with his second.

“That is the last time, soldier! I mean it!”

Majin is dutifully obedient. His eyes full of glee, he says, “Yes, sir!”

“Where were we?” Catma says.

“About to prepare coffee, I believe, sir.”

Pleasantly mollified by his younger, Catma mutters, “Smart ash.”

He e-rods the power up on the main console, eyes flickering across the vidplay’s various screens, and pauses one of the visual segments.

“Mmm, excellent!” he says, one-eying his second, who twiddles his thumbs.

“Visor Majin,” Catma says. “You prepare the coffee, and I will populate our ranks. By-the-by, do you have preferences for your squad leaders?”

Visor Majin snicks softly. His leader’s “by- the-by” is old fashioned.

“Under prior submission, sir. One hour ago. My old compad—by-the-by—is still functional.”

“You are provisioned by my order with a new compad… And a divine-order e-spear. Transfer your data and complete the e- requisition for the spear.”

Catma holds up a hand and counts off with his fingers, “Be fitted for the new uniform, as well, Visor Majin, with proper rank insignias.

Then begin scheduling training. And petition a royal Sect of Shem philosopher for refresher lessons for the troops. Any questions?”

” By-the-by? Who shall I choose as my second, sir?”

“Enough, Visor Majin! Choose a second at your own discretion, “

“Thank you, sir. At your command!”

And for what unholy cause do we now sacrifice our young men? Catma of Uruk thinks.