The Godmakers Read Online Free PDF Page B

beside Stetson.
    The starchy newness of Orne's blue I-A fatigues failed to conceal his no-fat appearance. It gave Orne a look of military spit and polish, but something about his blocky, off-center features suggested the clown.
    "I'm getting tired of waiting," Orne said.
    "You're tired! Ha!"
    "You hear anything new from Hamal?" Orne asked.

    "Forget Hamal! Concentrate on Gienah!"
    "I was just curious, trying to pass the time." A breeze rippled the tops of the green ocean below them. Here and there, red and purple flowers jutted from the verdure, bending and nodding like an attentive audience. The rich odor of rotting and growing vegetation came in the open ports.
    "Just look at that blasted jungle!" Stetson said. "Them and their stupid orders!"
    Orne listened quietly to the sounds of anger from his chief. Gienah obviously was a very special, very dangerous problem. Orne's thoughts, though, kept going back to Hamal. The O-force had taken over on that planet and things were in their expected mess. No way had ever been found to keep occupying troops from betraying an overbearing attitude and engaging in certain oppressive activities -- such as picking off all the prettiest and most willing women. When the O-force finally lifted from Hamal, the people of that planet might be peaceful, but they'd bear scars which five hundred generations might not erase.
    A call bell tinkled on the bridge console above Orne. The red light at the speaker grid began blinking. Stetson shot an angry glance at the offending equipment. "Yeah, Hal?"
    "Okay, Stet. Orders just came through. We use Plan C. ComGo says you may now brief the fieldman on the classified information, then jet the aitch out of here."
    "Did you ask them about using another fieldman?"
    Orne looked up attentively. Secrecy piled upon secrecy and now this?
    "Negative. It's crash priority. ComGo expects to blast the planet anyway."
    Stetson glared at the speaker grid. "Those fat-headed, lard-bottomed, pig-brained, schlemmel-hearted POLITICIANS!" He took two deep breaths. "Okay.
    Tell them we'll comply."
    "Confirmation's on the way. You want me to come up and help in the briefing?"
    "No. I . . . Dammit! Ask them again if I can take this one!"
    "Stet, they said we have to use Orne because of the records on the Delphinus."
    Stetson sighed, then: "Will they give us more time to brief him?"
    "Crash priority, Stet. We're wasting time."
    "If it isn't one . . ."
    "Stet!"
    "What now?"
    "I just got a confirmed contact."
    Stetson brought himself upright, poised on the balls of his feet. "Where?"

    Orne glanced out the port, returned his attention to Stetson. The electric feeling of urgency and reluctance in the bridge made his stomach chum.
    "Contact . . . about ten klicks out," the speaker rasped.
    "How many?"
    "A mob. You want I should count them?"
    "No. What're they doing?"
    "Making a beeline for us. You'd better move it."
    "Right. Keep us posted.
    "Wilco."
    Stetson looked across at his untried junior fieldman. "Orne, if you decide you want out of this assignment, you just say the word. I'll back you to the limit"
    "Why should I want out of my first assignment?"
    "Listen, and find out." Stetson crossed to a tilt-locker beside the big translite map, hauled out a white coverall uniform with gold insignia, tossed it to Orne. "Get into these while I brief you."
    "But this is an R&R uni --"
    "Get that damn uniform on your ugly frame!"
    "Yes, sir, Admiral Stetson, sir. Right away, sir. But I thought I was through with old Rediscovery & Reeducation when you drafted me into the I-A."
    He began changing from the I-A blue into the R&R white. Almost as an afterthought, he said: ". . . sir."
    A wolfish grin cracked Stetson's big features. "You know, Orne, one of the reasons I drafted you was your proper attitude of subservience toward authority."
    Orne sealed the long seam of the coverall uniform. "Oh, yes, sir . . . sir."
    "All right, knock it off and pay attention." Stetson gestured at the translite map