John Steakley - Armor

“Me either,” said Obel. “You can’t beat Kent.”

“My friend was there, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Bolov. “Who is it? What’s his name?”

Yin managed to look stubborn even through his face screen.

“She was robbed,” he insisted.

“Well,” said Bolov with a trace of bitterness, “that is the way her luck usually goes.”

“Yeah. Can you imagine that?” said Obel, musing. “That she’s stuck here getting the worst of the shit because of some cheat while Kent spends his time showing off?”

“That would be something,” admitted Bolov. “If it were true.”

“It is true,” insisted Yin again.

“I don’t know, Yin,” replied Bolov. “She’s awfully good….”

“She’s the best I’ve ever fought with, true. But to beat Ken…?”

“Hell yes, she’s better’n Kent ever was.”

“Nobody’s better’n Kent,” said Obel firmly.

“Forest is,” retorted Yin.

“Ah, Yin. You only say that because you know her,” said Obel.

“Fuck that. She’s the best,” replied Yin. He looked at Felix. “What do you think, Felix? You’ve fought with her. Right with her. You think she can beat Kent, don’t you?”

“Kent who?”

All three stared at him.

“Kent who…?”

“Nathan Kent, who else…?

“Three time Class One Armor Champion Nathan Kent.”

“Never heard of him.”

They stared again.

“You’re kidding. You’ve never heard of Nathan Kent?” asked Bolov.

“Where’ve you been?” asked Obel.

“Out of touch, I suppose.”

“Where you been posted? Were you a starprobe or something?” asked Yin with a laugh.

“No,” replied Felix seriously. “Nothing like that.”

“What were you?” asked Bolov, equally serious.

“A civilian.”

There was a long silence while they stared again. In a hushed voice, Bolov finally broke the silence.

“Felix,” he asked slowly, “how long have you been in the fleet?”

“Nine months.”

“Nine months? You’re a greener?” asked Yin, amazed.

“What’s that?”

“He means,” added Obel quickly, “is this your first Drop?”

Felix nodded. “This is it.”

“Holy shit,” breathed a stunned Bolov. “On Banshee.”

“But… but you’re a scout. How could you be a scout?” Obel wanted to know.

“I just drew it.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Obel with finality. “That sort of thing just doesn’t happen.”

“It might,” suggested Bolov quietly. “They needed a lot of people fast. This is a full-scale war, after all.”

“But scout duty?” wailed Obel. “For a man with less than a year? A greener?”

“How long have you guys been in?”

“Eight years,” said Obel.

“Nine years,” said Bolov.

“Five years,” said Yin.

It was Felix’s turn to be amazed. “You mean this is… your career?”

“Hell, yes,” said Obel.

“So you’ve… done this before?”

“Fought before?” asked Yin. “Sure we have. Fought the Barrm on Silo.”

“And the Zee’s. Don’t forget them,” added Bolov.

“How could I,” replied Yin dryly.

“Hell,” blurted Obel, importantly. “My very first Drop was Ervis Three…”

“But you were back-up then…”

“Yeah, yeah,” drawled Yin. “We know you’ve been around. We’ve all been around.”

“Had to have. That’s why we’re alive and talking about it,” said Obel. “You can’t match experience.”

“Felix has,” replied Yin with a short laugh.

“So far,” admitted Bolov, “it’s incredible.”

“Why is that?” asked Felix.

“Felix, you ask around. I bet you a month’s credits that you’re the only greener still alive.”

“I’d bet more than that,” muttered Obel. “And as a lousy scout, too. I still don’t see how he got stuck with that.”

“Maybe he volunteered,” offered Yin.

“He’s not that stupid,” replied Obel.

“Maybe he wants to be a hero,” returned Yin. “Some do. I bet he did volunteer.”

“Bet he didn’t,” replied Obel.

“Which is it, Felix?” asked Bolov. “Are you stupid…?”

“…Or just unlucky…”

Felix smiled slightly to himself. “I didn’t volunteer for anything.”

“You volunteered for the goddamn war, didn’t you?” prompted Bolov.

“Yes.”

“That was your first mistake,” said Bolov.

“Maybe your last,” added Obel. “Why’d you do it? You from Earth, huh?”

“Yeah,” added Yin. “Your family in South America? You here to get revenge?”

Felix stared, taken back. “No,” he said at last. “I’m not from Earth.”

“Yeah?” asked Obel. “Then why did you sign up?”

Felix stared at him, hesitant. Bolov saved him.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “He’s here now. He’s on Banshee, a scout, and fighting. Fighting damn good, too.”

“A lousy scout,” mused Obel. “A greener scout. Do you know where that puts you on the stat? at the very…”

“Cut that, Obel,” growled Bolov. “That won’t help anything.”

“I figure he’s got a right to know.”

“Oh, is that what you figure? Shaddup.”

“No,” said Felix, resigned to it all. “May as well give it to me.”

“It’s the survival table, Felix,” said Yin in a quiet voice.

“And…?”

“And…?” Bolov was hesitant. “Look, Felix, it’s like this: They have this scale that gives the odds for survival for any given warrior on any particular Drop. They change for each Drop. Like, for a greener warrior it’s a four.”

“Four what…”

“Four for ten,” offered Obel.

Bolov sighed. “It means that there are four chances out of ten that he’ll make it. A statistical survival rate of 40 percent.”

Felix couldn’t believe his ears. “You mean to say that only 40 percent survive their first Drop?”

“If it’s a major Drop,” added Obel quickly. “You know, an assault Drop.”

“Look, Felix,” explained Bolov. “There are two kinds of Drops; Major, an assault Drop. That means you’re one of the first to hit. Then there’s the Minor, or backup. The scale I’m talking about depends on it being a major with a casualty rate of at least 10 percent, and with all that being so, a greener warrior would be four on the scale if it was first.”

“Course, it changes with each Drop,” offered Yin.

“Year,” agreed Bolov. “It gets better. Second drop rates a six. Sixty percent chance. Third is seven. Fourth is as bad as the first, though. It’s four, too.”

“Overconfidence sets in,” added Obel. “Know-it-alls that figure it can’t happen to them just because it hasn’t yet. Forget to duck.”

“Yeah,” said Bolov, continuing. “Anyway, it’s… uh, four for the first, six for the second, seven for the third, back to four for the fourth back to seven for fifth. Sixth, seventh and eighth are the best. They’re all eight. Then it starts down again. Ninth is seven. Tenth is only five. You get tired, you know? Anyway it stops at ten. Nobody’s ever made more than ten major Drops.”

“And most Drops aren’t majors,” Yin reminded him. “Most are just backups. Only one out of seven are majors because they rotate you that way. The odds are a lot better on backups. Nine for vets. Even greeners get eight.”

“That’s why greeners should always drop backups first,” offered Bolov. “You get experience that way which helps you later on. It works out better, somehow. I don’t really understand it all. But say you’re like us and you do seven back-ups before your first major. The stat says you then get the same rating as if it were really your third major. You get a seven. See?”