Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

keep!  I’d like another beer over here and .  . .”
    “Whisky.”
    “And a whisky
for my friend.”
    The robot arm
zoomed up the bar.  “I’m sorry, sir, but we are not allowed to serve you
any more alcoholic drinks; today’s limit has been reached.”
    Mike leaned
toward the arm.  “Now you look here, this is a war hero and we want our
drinks, okay?”
    “I’m sorry
sir.  Would you like to file a customer services incident report?”
    Bobby cut
in.  “Could I have a beer and a whisky?” he asked.
    “Of course,
sir, coming up.”  The arm whirred off to prepare the drinks.
    “See that!”
Mike cried.  “Even the machines have respect for a war hero!”
    Bobby smiled
and shook his head.  The arm placed the beer and whisky on the bar in
front of them.  “Your account has been debited.  You have two drinks
remaining for the current period.  Enjoy yourself, and drink responsibly.”
    Mike grabbed
his beer, thrusting it toward Bobby.  “To drinking responsibly,” he said,
with a slight slur in his voice.
    “To drinking
responsibly,” Bobby answered.
    After taking
swigs they sat in silence for the next few seconds, Mike toying with the edge
of a bar mat.  He glanced up at Bobby.  “What was it like?”
    “Lahore?”
    Mike seemed
ashamed now at having asked the question.  “Yeah, Lahore.”
    Bobby pulled
himself back in his seat, tilting his head to one side as he searched for an
answer.  “It was rough.  Like they said.  But we held on to
it.  And some of us got medals, too.”
    There was a
pause, then Mike said, “We’re all very proud of what you guys did.  I
mean,” he struggled for words, “. . . thank you.  Thank you
for your service.”
    Bobby
nodded.  “It shouldn’t have happened that way, but,” he paused,
“. . . but we did all we could and we made it in the end.”
    “People
actually died, didn’t they?”
    “They
did.  We lost thirteen squads, thirteen commanders.  Worst losses of
the entire war.”
    Mike’s mouth
fell open.
    “Thirteen?”
he repeated, dumbfounded.  “My God .  . .”
    “Twelve mechs
to a squad, with the command drone.  You don’t want to be losing a hundred
and fifty tactical fighting units in the biggest battle of the Fourth World
War, but what can you do?  War sucks, huh?”
    Mike was
still staring.  “But the people.  Thirteen .  They said it
was four in the bulletins.”
    Bobby
smirked.  “Well, you know.  The first casualty of war and all
that.  Anyway, we held onto Lahore, and you know the rest.  Peace
with honour.”  He offered up his glass.  Mike chinked his against it.
    “Peace with
honour,” he said.
     
     
    Mike shuffled
in his seat and studied the drinks behind the bar as if he had never seen them
before.  “You know,” he said, “I’m a bit of a history buff.  Military
history, that sort of thing.”  Bobby looked at him quizzically.  Mike
continued.  “That’s what I read, mostly.  I’ve read hundreds of books
about that stuff, especially the world wars, one, two and three.  And of
course I’ve been following this one, your one, in the news.  Different to
being there, I guess.  How about you?  Do you read that stuff?” he
asked.
    “Not really,”
said Bobby.  “We did a little in training, studying tactics, strategy and
so forth, but I’m not much of one for history.”
    “It’s really
interesting,” said Mike.  “It fascinates me.”
    Bobby sipped
his drink.
    “I was a big
supporter of the Commander Program, you know?  A lot of people didn’t like
it but I knew it would be good, I knew it would work and I knew it would be
worth it.  I think we lost our way with the drones.  We lost
something, you know what I mean?  It made war too easy.  Everyone was
far too willing to reach for the military option when there were no risks
involved.  It made war, somehow,” he struggled to find the word,
“. . . dishonourable.  Apart from this last war, do you
know when