John Robb - Zone Zero

The plane was a light bomber. It dipped low over the proving ground while D’Aran and Keith waved. Then it swooped away to the north and disappeared.

“It’s gone,” Keith whispered. “They didn’t see us…”

“It’ll be back,” D’Aran said. “It must come back. And I know why it is here. There is only one explanation.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“It is making a final reconnaissance of the proving ground before the explosion. I think we are saved, man ami …”

Five minutes later the plane landed and taxied towards them. The side door opened and a couple of baffled men in pale blue uniforms stood in the opening.

“ Sacre !” one of them said. “What are you doing? Where are you from?”

They did not answer until they were inside the plane.

The adjutant shook D’Aran’s hand.

“Glad to see you back,” he said. “You very nearly didn’t come back.”

D’Aran nodded. There was nothing to say. The humiliation was coming now. This was merely a courteous preface.

“The explosion was successful, too—even though it had to be delayed a few days until we evacuated the area.”

Another nod

The adjutant tapped his desk with his fingers. “How old are you, lieutenant?”

“Er—twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two. A good age, mon ami . A good age to seek experience, don’t you think?”

“Ah, oui , I suppose so.”

“With women, of course.”

Now it was coming! The old fool was trying to lead up to it gently! But inside himself, he’ll be laughing, D’Aran thought. What does he know of temptation? He didn’t have to fight for a scholarship to St. Maixent! He’d never known poverty! He could meet a tramp like Lucinne every night and never suffer for it, as Lieutenant D’Aran was about to suffer!

The adjutant continued after a pause: “But with the ladies one must use discretion.”

“I realise that—now.”

“Yet we all are indiscreet at times. We learn by our mistakes.”

Dieu ! When was he going to reach the point? Why did the fool have to bleat platitudes. It didn’t make it any easier.

“Sometimes we learn too late, major.”

“Perhaps. But not always. Anyway, it is an academic matter. Let us get down to business…”

He shuffled with some papers, putting them into precise order. Then: “You will, I hope, continue with your appointment as treasurer of the mess funds.”

“I—I…”

“ Oui , I thought you would, lieutenant. Now there is one other small matter. Strictly between ourselves, of course. It’s about that fifty thousand francs you borrowed from me. Don’t worry about it. Repay when it is convenient…”

© John Robb 1954, © Anna Robb 2014

John Robb and Anna Rob have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the authors of this work.

First published in 1954.

This edition published 2018 by Endeavour Media Ltd.