A Desert Called Peace Part 43

"We could just blast them out, you know," Parilla objected.

"Yes," Carrera agreed slowly. "But then how would we get any future use of them? And I think we're going to need them in the future. I think we've got the best group of Arabs on Terra Nova, right here."

The party went silent then as two a.s.sault teams composed of mixed armor and infantry moved into firing position and spent five minutes or so each blasting two large gaps in the university walls. A "practicable breach," Carrera had called it.

"Order the troops to cease fire except in self defense," he commanded. "Get the air ala ala circling overhead." circling overhead."

"Amid, there's a white flag showing near the main gate," Qabaash informed Sada. "Just three men, one holding the flag, another with a small loudspeaker, and the last standing there with his arms folded. You suppose they want to surrender? The loudspeaker asked for you, personally."

Sada looked around at some of the remnants of his filthy, ragged command and answered, "Somehow I doubt they intend to surrender to us."

"Are you going to meet them, Amid Amid? If so, I need to have the barriers at the gate cleared away."

"Can't hurt to talk, I suppose," Sada answered. Every minute we gain...gains us... Every minute we gain...gains us... nothing. "Have someone shout to them that I'll be along in thirty minutes. And, yes, open the gate." nothing. "Have someone shout to them that I'll be along in thirty minutes. And, yes, open the gate."

It had begun hot enough, standing there in the open and waiting for the Sumeris to respond. As the sun arose, it grew hotter still, despite the wide swath of pockmarked greenery on which they stood. Sweat poured off the faces of Carrera, Soult and Fahad. Their uniforms, and Fahad's civilian clothing, grew soaked with it even though the dry, dusty air sucked it away almost as fast as it formed.

"There he is," Fahad said. "Magnificent, isn't he?"

Carrera agreed, though he said nothing. The man approaching under flag of truce was caked with sweat and dust, but tall, well built, and walked like a man of fierce courage still.

Carrera's party stood in place while the Sumeri approached. Sada stopped only once, gaping at Fahad from just recognition distance. Fahad made a small bow, Yes, my general, it is me. Yes, my general, it is me.

"How may I be of service?" Sada asked in polite, Anglian accented English. He looked at Carrera's eyes and thought, Creepy, like the Blue Jinn. Creepy, like the Blue Jinn. Glancing at Fahad again, he added, to Carrera, "I gather you know who I am." Glancing at Fahad again, he added, to Carrera, "I gather you know who I am."

Taking the hint, Carrera offered his hand, which Sada took, and introduced himself, adding, "Your men have fought well, as have you."

"Thank you, Liwa Liwa Patricio." In the Arab way, Sada used rank and first name. "And, might I add, they're ready to keep on doing so." Patricio." In the Arab way, Sada used rank and first name. "And, might I add, they're ready to keep on doing so."

Carrera bit his lower lip, doubtfully. "For a while," he conceded. "But the rest of your army, elsewhere, has folded. These are the only men who've made a good stand. It would be a shame to rob your country of them now, don't you think?"

Overhead, six NA-23s and a like number of Turbo-Finches circled in two separate groups. Reinforcing these, ten helicopters, ostentatiously bearing rocket and machine gun pods, hovered. Carrera didn't have to point them out; their noise reached the ground with a low, steady thrum. thrum.

"The other thing is...you can surrender to me or you can surrender to the Federated States Army which, now that it has nothing better to do, is sending a division this way to reinforce us. You'll get better treatment from me. So will your men."

Seeing that Sada was still full of fight Fahad was right about this one. A Fahad was right about this one. A wonderful wonderful enemy. Even in defeat he's got pluck enemy. Even in defeat he's got pluck Carrera put in a sweetener. "I've got medical teams standing by, just behind the line, to go in and see to your wounded." His eyes swept around the gra.s.sy strip. "We can medevac them from right here." Carrera put in a sweetener. "I've got medical teams standing by, just behind the line, to go in and see to your wounded." His eyes swept around the gra.s.sy strip. "We can medevac them from right here."

"I have a lot of wounded," Sada answered, wavering slightly.

"I know. And not much food and not much ammunition. And no medicine. Friend, this is the best thing you can do for your men, hurt or unhurt. For reasons I'll explain later, it's also the best thing you can do for your country and your people."

Sada's shoulders, previously proudly squared off, sank just a little. "Terms?" he asked.

"The usual," Carrera answered, "except that I'll want officers to take their sidearms even into captivity to maintain order."

"We don't have enough nine millimeter ammunition left to maintain order."

"No problem; we'll give you enough." That That was an almost unprecedented offer of grace. was an almost unprecedented offer of grace.

Sada nodded, then let his face hang downward.

"And I'll want your men to march out under arms, like honorable soldiers, colors flying and band playing."

"I don't have a band," Sada objected.

"That doesn't matter. I I do." do."

Sada looked...well, he looked ripped up inside. "This is hard. Hard. Hard. I've never surrendered my command. In three wars I've never given up." I've never surrendered my command. In three wars I've never given up."

"I understand," Carrera commiserated. "It's the hardest thing one can do. But is your pride worth getting the only part of your army that consistently fought well destroyed? Your country is going to need these men. Is your pride more important than that?"

Sada inhaled deeply. When he gave up that breath his shoulders slumped even more than they had been. "When? How do you want it done?"

The sun was high overhead and the PSYOP cameras were rolling when Sada reappeared at the gate. From above, confirmed by both observation teams and the still circling aircraft, the remnants of his command were formed up behind him. Medical teams from the legion were already inside the compound, triaging the wounded and treating them where practical. Fahad and Soult had accompanied the medics and doctors to translate. The three-way translation was slow and awkward, but ultimately effective enough.

Precisely at noon Carrera reappeared in the green strip fronting the gate. This time he was accompanied not by a mere two men. Instead, he had the dozen each pipers and drummers of the legion, their Secordian-born pipe major, plus an honor guard of one century from the 1st Cohort. The pipes and drums stood to Carrera's right, the honor guard to the left. Well behind him, on the far side of the boulevard, Parilla and the legionary staff stood on a makeshift platform raised above the rear decks of two tanks. The one gold and eleven silver eagles of the ground and air elements of the legion were drawn up, held aloft by their bearers, in front of the stand. Cohort. The pipes and drums stood to Carrera's right, the honor guard to the left. Well behind him, on the far side of the boulevard, Parilla and the legionary staff stood on a makeshift platform raised above the rear decks of two tanks. The one gold and eleven silver eagles of the ground and air elements of the legion were drawn up, held aloft by their bearers, in front of the stand.

Sada appeared within the gate. Behind him were his staff and his brigade colors, a splash of green against the white background.

Carrera looked right and nodded at the pipe major who raised his baton and lowered it. Immediately the drums began a marching beat. Four beats later the pipes joined in with "The Muckin' o' Geordie's Byre."

Qabaash looked terribly forlorn and depressed, slumping behind Sada. He turned his head and gave the order to "Mark time, march." The men began to march in step, lifting their feet in time to the beat. This was followed by, "Forward...march." Sada, the staff, the brigade colors, and the first group of soldiers stepped off.

Four abreast the Sumeris flowed out of the gate. Weary as they no doubt were, still the pipes and the drums gave them a bit of energy they'd perhaps not known they'd had. They came forward, dirty and ragged but in good dress and step, until Sada reached a point six meters in front of Carrera. There Qabaash gave the order, "Brigade...halt." The pipes and drums ceased.

Sada and Carrera exchanged salutes. Then Sada walked forward, unbuckling the sword a great prize and artifact of his clan to present to Carrera. Carrera held up his hand in refusal, saying, "I am not the commander." He turned and pointed to Parilla, standing on the platform, and said, "Your sword and your colors go to him. Have your command follow me and then peel off in line along the gra.s.s."

With that, Carrera executed a letter-perfect about face and once again nodded to the pipe major. The drums and the tune picked up as the honor guard marched forward to insert itself between Sada's colors and the bulk of his brigade. Following Carrera, the Sumeris advanced into the boulevard to just before Parilla's reviewing stand. Behind Sada the remaining units peeled off right and left to form a line of columns. They were few and took up comparatively little of the s.p.a.ce.

At the reviewing stand Carrera saluted Parilla, reporting, "Al Sada Brigade, present and accounted for and ready to surrender after a gallant defense." The pipes and drums automatically cut out.

Parilla returned the salute and answered, "Continue with the ceremony."

Carrera turned and nodded at Sada. Sada, in turn, gave the orders in Arabic for his colors to follow him. They marched in time, pipes silent and drums only beating a slow march. There Sada once again unbuckled his sword belt and gave it to Parilla, who took it and pa.s.sed it to Sergeant Major McNamara. Parilla then, followed by McNamara, walked gingerly down some rickety steps that led to the flat below the stand.

Sada turned and took the brigade colors from their bearer. Oh, this hurts. Oh, this hurts. He turned once again, in place, and offered these to Parilla who took them as well. Parilla held them in his hand, momentarily, savoring the ultimate battlefield commander's high, the capture of the enemy's soul. Then, smiling, he gave them back to Sada. He turned once again, in place, and offered these to Parilla who took them as well. Parilla held them in his hand, momentarily, savoring the ultimate battlefield commander's high, the capture of the enemy's soul. Then, smiling, he gave them back to Sada.

"I don't understand," the Sumeri said, in English.

McNamara translated to Parilla who answered, through him, "You've earned t'e right to keep t'em."

Sada felt unmanly tears begin to form. He bit his upper lip and, nodding gratefully, returned the colors to their bearer. He saw Qabaash the Fierce suddenly lose his dejected demeanor and stand tall. By the time Sada turned again, Parilla had retrieved his sword from McNamara and was offering that back as well.

The tears began to course then in truth. Sada hung his head in embarra.s.sment. Parilla just smiled broadly and slapped the Sumeri's shoulder, saying something in Spanish that Sada had no clue to.

McNamara handed a small hinged box to Parilla, who took from it a medal on a ribbon. This Parilla hung about Sada's neck while his head was bowed.

"What?" the surprised Sumeri asked.

"Can you identify forty or fifty men officers, non-coms or enlisted, makes no difference, except I'd prefer some of each who just did a really good, really courageous job here?" Carrera had asked. "I mean soldiers that everyone in your brigade would recognize as being number one fighters, first cla.s.s men?"

"Forty or fifty? I could probably give you four or five hundred." Sada had answered with pride, standing there on the green strip as the two worked out the final details of surrender.

"No...let's not be too ostentatious. Forty or fifty will do, for now."

"Follow t'e commander," McNamara said to Sada, as Parilla walked to the group of fifty Sumeris who had followed just behind the colors and were centered in middle of the remnants of the brigade. Sada did so, with the Sergeant Major following. Another legionary followed the Sergeant Major, bearing a scrounged metal tray on which were laid out fifty Steel Crosses.

"What the h.e.l.l is he doing?" Sada asked of the Sergeant Major.

"T'ere is no bar in our regulations," McNamara answered, "to decorating for bravery an enemy who has fought well. As a matter of fact, if you read t'em t'e right way, it is required, at least where possible."

"No s.h.i.t?" Sada asked.

"No s.h.i.t....sir."

Well, this was certainly something different. With a very odd mix of feelings, Sada followed Parilla as he walked down the five ranks of ten and hung a medal around the necks of each of the Sumeris Sada had identified as particularly worthy. At each man Parilla shook hands and said a few words, technically incomprehensible but in practice quite clear. "Good man...brave soldier...it was an honor to fight you...wear it with pride."

With the presentation of the last award, Parilla again shook Sada's hand. Again they exchanged salutes. Sada walked back to his position in front of his staff while Parilla went back to the reviewing stand.

Carrera gave the order to Sada, "Have your soldiers ground arms."

Unit by unit, starting from the right of the line as they faced, the remnants of the Sumeri units grounded their rifles and machine guns on the gra.s.s strip, the men bending at the waist to carefully lay the weapons down before recovering to attention.

When the last unit had disarmed, Carrera ordered, "Have your brigade follow me." With another head nod, the pipes and drums picked back up again. The Sumeris began to march, first marking time in place and then, as the way cleared, wheeling left or right and moving forward behind the colors following their commander who, in turn, followed Carrera.

The honor guard from 1st Cohort stepped out to stand beneath the reviewing stand, between the eagles and the boulevard.. When Carrera reached the stand he turned his eyes to the right and saluted the Cohort stepped out to stand beneath the reviewing stand, between the eagles and the boulevard.. When Carrera reached the stand he turned his eyes to the right and saluted the Dux Dux and the Eagles. The Sergeant Major ordered, "Present...arms." and the Eagles. The Sergeant Major ordered, "Present...arms."

Carrera dropped the salute and continued on.

Taking the hint, Sada gave the command, "Eyes...right," and rendered 'Present Arms' with his clan's sword. The colors of his brigade dropped to a forty five degree angle until he ordered, "Ready...front." The silver eagles likewise lowered but to a lesser degree.

As the group of Sumeris Parilla had just decorated reached the stand they, too, executed an eyes right. Parilla saluted and dropped it. Then Parilla began to applaud. The staff on the stand joined him, holding the applause until the Sumeri honorees had pa.s.sed.

That night, Sada met with Parilla and Carrera in a large and tacky office in one of the local munic.i.p.al buildings that had been mostly spared in the fighting. The cheap but ostentatiously gilded furniture glinted in the now dim and then flaring kerosene lamps.

Fahad was in attendance in case translation should be needed.

"Your men? Settled in? Fed? Watered?" Parilla asked in his marginal English.

"Yes, sir," Sada answered. He was still in mild shock at the decent, even gallant, treatment he and his men had been accorded. Indeed, back in the wire-ringed temporary camp in which he and his troops were housed under first cla.s.s Misrani tents his staff was still scratching their collective head.

"I have to apologize for the food," Parilla said, through Carrera. "Frankly, we're not eating all that well, either. We're supposed to have a somewhat improved supply situation in a few days."

"That's fine," Sada said. "After a week of boiled camel and rice, and not much of that, the men are happy just to be full."

"Drink?" Carrera offered, indicating a mostly full bottle and some mostly clean gla.s.ses.

"Please. We Sumeris are not, generally speaking, Salafi fanatics, you know."

Fahad poured for the four. There was no ice so it was scotch, neat.

They sipped, in silence and contemplatively, for a few minutes before Carrera began to speak.

"The FSC-led coalition has ordered your entire army to disband, the f.u.c.king idiots," he said, heatedly. "Allegedly they'll provide a month's severance pay, at least to the officers."

Sada laughed, low and deprecatingly. "I can't even begin to tell you what a bad idea that is. You're going to suddenly un unemploy several hundred thousand young men, all trained to arms, and my brigade excepted with every reason to hate your guts. Oh, my. Saleh, wherever he's hiding, must just be coming in his pants over that that one." one."

"Not us," Carrera corrected, "the FSC. Seems some civilian, never-heard-a-shot-fired-in-anger-idiot there, decided for the military that troops who had run away and surrendered were just not worth keeping around. Mind you, the money was all allocated to keep them under arms and employ them. But, no, this dips.h.i.t civilian with never a day in uniform thinks he knows better."

Sada shrugged. "Well," he admitted, "they're mostly not not worth keeping around for the good they can do the FSC. At least not any immediate good. They're worth keeping around for the worth keeping around for the good they can do the FSC. At least not any immediate good. They're worth keeping around for the harm harm they might do if left to their own devices." they might do if left to their own devices."

"We agree," Carrera said. "That's why we don't want to let your brigade go."

Seeing Sada bridle at the thought of his men spending some uncountable amount of time locked up behind wire, Carrera hastened to add, "Wait. I don't mean we want to keep them as prisoners past the time we must. I mean we we want to hire them. And you." want to hire them. And you."

Well...that was different. "So that's what all that pageantry was about."

"Partly," Carrera admitted. "But only partly. You and your men deserved it, too. What we have in mind, what we need, is three things. We want to hire about one hundred and fifty of your men as auxiliaries. They'll go to school to learn Spanish for about four months. Then they'll be a.s.signed right down to century level to act as guides and interpreters for our units."

"That's...do-able," Sada agreed. One hundred and fifty men was only a fraction of the men he had who would need employment.

"The second thing we want is for you to reform a regular brigade of three or four infantry battalions. Call it two to three thousand men. You and they will fall under command of the legion and, frankly, be used."

"I don't have that many men," Sada objected, "not unhurt anyway."

"We expect you to recruit. We expect you to recruit very carefully because this brigade must must be really first rate." be really first rate."

"a.s.suming you're paying, I suppose I can recruit. But I'll have to be very careful who who I recruit." I recruit."

"We know," Carrera agreed. "We expect you to take your time about it. It's going to be a few months before the insurgency we expect to come about can really kick off. You have to be ready by then."

"The insurgency is in place," Sada answered. "It's been in place. And with the FSC letting all those soldiers go, it's going to grow fast."

"Yes, but not here here, not in our area."

"Maybe not," Sada said, noncommittally. "But it will spill over even so."