Tombstone Read Online Free PDF Page B

imbeciles."  He paused, clearly
enjoying my dumbstruck silence.  "But to answer your question, no, if you
so no to us we won't turn you in.  Not for your robberies and certainly not to
the megacorp that runs that farm."
    "You'll just let me go?"  I looked at him
quizzically.  "Just walk out the door?"
    "Yes.  With a stern warning never to steal from us
again."  He looked at me and his eyes were deadly serious.  "A very
stern warning."
    I was quiet for maybe half a minute, trying to process
everything he said.  Free to go?  I could just walk out?  "So if that's
true, why would I ever agree to sign up?  If you're not blackmailing me with
prosecution why shouldn't I just leave now?"
    He let out a deep breath.  "Well, Darius, the first
part of that answer is the fact that you're asking the question at all.  I just
told you that you could leave any time you want to.  Why are you asking me
questions at all?"  He paused for an instant, but continued before I could
answer.  "It depends on what you really want, Darius.  You're smart enough
to get by as a thief for a while, at least until you step on someone else's
toes and you end up mining meteor fragments on the moon.  Or more likely
dead."
    He rolled up his sleeve.  "You see this arm?"  I
looked at him, confused.  "I got this blown off as a private.  My first
battle." 
    I thought to myself, this guy needs work on his sales pitch
if that is his idea of an inducement.  But I kept listening anyway.  I was
curious where he was going with this.
    "This is a new one.  A perfect regeneration.  You'd
have to be a member of the political class here for that kind of medical
priority.  But in the Corps all you have to be is a Marine.  What was your
medical priority rating before you ran?  Zero?"
    I frowned.  "So you're saying if you get my arm shot
off you'll grow me a new one?  You’re a lousy salesman."
    "No."  He looked at me with the first hint of
impatience I'd seen from him.  "I'm saying that the Corps is someplace
that respects all of its members.  We don't prioritize our people and throw
most of them away because it's expedient.  An injured Marine gets the care he
needs, whatever that is.  Private, general…it doesn’t matter.  A Marine in trouble
gets the support he needs."  He stared right at me, his eyes boring into
mine.  "Haven't you ever wanted to belong somewhere?  To be part of a team
where everyone has your back?"
    "So it's that simple?  I say yes, and you make me part
of this team you're talking about?"  I had to admit to myself, the
prospect of not feeling totally on my own every second was appealing.  I also
thought it had to be bullshit.
    He laughed.  "Far from.  If you say yes, I will give
you a chance to make it.  If you sign on you will do six years of
training."  He paused, smiling wickedly at the blank expression on my
face.  "Yes, that's right.  Six years.  You'll get the education you never
got before, and you'll learn how to really use that reasonably effective brain
I think you have.  You'll also work like a dog; like nothing you have ever
experienced.  You think they worked people hard on that farm?"  The wicked
grin widened, becoming downright maniacal.  "You'll end up face down in
the mud puking your guts up from physical training you can't imagine now.  Our
program is serious."  He paused, and the grin slowly vanished.  "It's
dangerous too.  People die in training.  You may die in training."
    "So you sell the Corps hard and then try to scare me
away?"  My head was spinning.  I didn't know what to think.  "So if I
make it through your training, then what happens?"
    "Then you graduate as a private."  His voice was
serious now.  All the earlier informality was gone.  "And when you make
your first drop you're one of us."  Long pause.  "For the rest of
your life."
    "After my first drop?"
    "Graduating from training gives you the right to drop
with a Marine unit.  Completing the drop makes you a