‘You don’t like them?’ he asked Sala.
‘Frankly, they offend me,’ Sala said.
‘Now, look here —’ Hail started, but Walker held up his hand.
‘Excellent,’ he murmured, mostly to himself. Without turning, he pushed the poles over, leaving the flags prostrate.
‘Sergeant Sala: I, personally, owe you so much,’ Walker continued, ignoring the shock on Hail’s face. ‘On Commander Holland’s recommendation, I have read your file several times over the years. I’ve written the odd comment in it myself. I’ve watched many hours of unedited footage of you. In short, I’ve followed your progress closely.’
‘Makes you sound like a bit of a pervert, sir.’ Sala peered hard at him. Up close, she thought, he was shiny. Suspiciously so: was he wearing a mask?
‘Sergeant Sala, stand to attention,’ Hail said. ‘You really are too much.’
‘It’s fine: at ease, at ease,’ Walker said. He smiled a wide smile that hurt his face. ‘I didn’t expect you to last this long, given the spirited way you fight.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, SIR.’
‘You misunderstand me. On purpose, I can see.’
‘I’m not just a pretty face, eh?’
Walker allowed himself another smile, but he could feel the dizziness start to impose itself. He fought for balance, as best he could.
‘You could always simply accept my compliment,’ he said, ‘which is heartfelt and richly deserved.’
‘Is that an order, SIR? That I accept your compliment?’
Mostly, Sala wanted to make Hail fret, since he seemed so prone to it. But there was no unsettling Walker, she could see. He was entirely unfussed by her poking and prodding. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it. And yet something was wrong with him. She could sense it.
‘It’s not an order,’ Walker said. ‘Merely a request that you accept the truth: you have been an unusually fine and effective and committed soldier. Not just during your final glorious act, but throughout your career. You have been a magnificent servant of the people of Rise — and of Shine, for that matter. And you have my word that you will get all the personal and professional support you need, now and into the future. You are a hero to the people. Your sacrifice will help feed us for years. I hope that you will find a way to feel proud every mealtime, and that you allow yourself to take pleasure in your conduct.’
‘Don’t misunderstand me, sir: it’s the great honour of my life to serve the people. And it’s really quite nice to meet you.’
‘Even if you didn’t have a choice, eh?’
‘I had a choice to serve or not. I had a choice how to serve. But now, in my moment of glory — that’s what you just called it, right? — I have no choices. Except to speak my mind.’
Walker stepped forward so that he was very close to Sala’s face, and examined it in forensic detail. She inhaled and exhaled through her nose because she didn’t want to breathe on him. But her damaged, half-closed nostril hissed, and the scar tissue throbbed. And while he inspected her, she saw right through his face powder to the wounds beneath. Shit, she thought.
‘You understand what must happen now?’ Walker said.
‘I do, sir, but … Yes, I understand. But I want to ask: is there any way, any way at all, that I could stay in my battalion? I love the trenches. I am at peace fighting. I know the rules, but I’ve thought about this a lot, and I’m certain that I could —’
‘Sergeant Sala, I’ll say it again: come to attention,’ Hail said.
‘Ease up there. It’s been a big month,’ Walker said to Hail. But to Sala he said, ‘What you ask is impossible, and you know it. Haven’t you looked in the mirror lately? Your legacy will endure, but your work in the trenches is at an end. You’re immortal, but you’re done. Okay,’ he said to Hail, ‘let’s do this.’
Walker and Hail stood erect and formal, and Sergeant Sala, after considering her options — she had none — followed their lead. Hail read from a document that appeared on a personal autoscreen before his eyes:
‘Sergeant Sala, you are hereby honourably discharged from the 4th Armoured Battalion after seven years, eight months, and twenty-five days of service, including six years, nine months, and three days of active combat service. You are released on full pay for thirty years, and four-fifths pay thereafter, index-linked, with free medical treatment, including for all existing and new tumours, until you die. You are released from your obligations with the people of Rise’s grateful thanks.’
‘And with my personal best wishes for whatever civilian life holds in store for you,’ Walker added. ‘Is there anything further you wish to say?’
‘Please understand me: I don’t care about my face. Really, I don’t. But I will mourn my lost calling for the rest of my life.’
‘I understand. But you’ve done all you can do.’
‘This way, please,’ Hail said, taking Sala’s elbow. She glanced over her shoulder as she left. She and Walker shared a nod, almost of equals. These days, Walker rarely met another human being who didn’t bow and scrape. He would have jumped and cheered, if only he’d had the energy.
Hail returned, patting his tummy contentedly. ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Did you feel anything then? Seeing her up close must have done it for you.’
Walker shook his head. ‘No, nothing,’ he said. But he continued to ponder ex-Sergeant Sala. He knew the best of the best. He could sniff them out. Sala was too skilled, too self-possessed, too smart, too brave to disappear into retirement, aged twenty-something.
Hail, meantime, had more pressing matters on his mind. It was his job — increasingly, he thought, it seemed to be his only job — to try to get Walker to eat something. Anything.
‘We need to move on to Plan B. I repeat: commence Plan B,’ Hail said into his wearable. ‘You won’t be able to resist this, boss. Not a chance in the world.’
‘Oh, the world,’ Walker murmured. ‘Remember the world?’
The doors opened to admit a grinning, slobbering dog. It staggered into the room, led by a handler, shackled by a plastic rope and noose. Mid-sized, with random sweeps of brown, black, and white hair, the creature moved on four legs of different shapes and lengths. In place of a tail, it had a wagging fifth leg, which may or may not have doubled as a penis. It struggled to walk, stumbling constantly on its gnarled nails. The handler handed the lead to Hail and left the room.
‘First dog I’ve seen in …’ Walker said.
‘Thirty-four years, give or take,’ Hail said, doing the maths for him. ‘Say hello to Fred.’