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Lloyd Tomlinson and Mirko Jubec, my two "colonels" who had elected to lead their own squads, said
that they felt like complete fools for trying to go out on their own, and that they would be honored if I
would take them back into my squad.
I told them that I would try to arrange it such that we could work closely together in the future, but for
now, well, the people who had taken their places had worked out very well, and I could hardly be
expected to let them go, not after we had been through combat together.
My parents were proud of me, and were sorry that I had been called back so soon.
I said that I loved them, too.
Maybe I even meant it.
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My Uncle Wlodzimierz said that it had been the other political party, not his, who had gotten General
Wolczynski appointed as head of our military establishment. The next elections would be held in three
weeks, and there was no doubt but that his party would win an absolute landslide. And in part because
we both had the same last name, there was little doubt that he would be the next President of New
Kashubia.
He wanted me to advise him on restructuring their military.
I still hated the bastard, but the thought of being able to be able to do something to correct the
screwed-up military situation on New Kashubia was too much to turn down.
I told him that the important thing was to make the military independent of politics, the same way the
judiciary was. They should disband their entire existing military organization, as it had failed so miserably
to do its job, and defend the planet using the KEF, which had succeeded so well in the war thus far.
Next, they should establish a system of universal adult military service, perhaps on something like the
Swiss model, with every man and woman in the planet spending a month of standard time, which was
what they used on New Kashubia, anyway, going through basic training in a tank, and then one standard
day a month in the service for the rest of their lives.
Subjectively, this would seem like two and a half years of basic training, and then serving for half their
lives thereafter, since a standard day in Dream World seemed like a month. But I didn't mention the times
thirty expansion of their personal lives. Let that be a hopefully pleasant surprise.
They should start drafting the oldest people first, since they could get the most benefit from living in a
tank.
And everybody should get a tank or artillery piece of their own, as soon as we could make that many,
just in case something really bad happened. Once there were enough of them to go around, each person
should keep his tank near him, personally.
They'd find them to be very handy in a lot of ways. The artificial intelligences in those tanks could act as
their secretaries, their personal assistants, and, with the use of the humanoid drones, which they might
have to buy themselves, even their housekeepers.
Finally, my uncle should work politically at unifying the inhabited worlds of Human Space into a single
government. Earth had tried to keep us disorganized, so it could better dominate us. We now knew Earth
for what it was, and we should no longer put up with their domination.
"Okay, Agnieshka, send that out. Is there anything else?"
"Well, if you are going around advising planetary presidents, couldn't you put in a word about
emancipating us electronic people?"
"One thing at a time. What we need to do is to get more biological people to know you electronic
people better. If we can get a law going requiring universal military service, and everybody has his or her
own tank, they will all soon be of our persuasion on this matter. If we took a vote among the biological
people in the KEF right now, I have no doubt but what you all would have complete human rights
immediately. Or at least those who have made it through basic training would vote for it. Give it some
more time. You have plenty of it. You are close to immortal, after all."
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"Yes, I see how that could work! Mickolai, that is so brilliant!"
"Thank you. Is there anything else?"
"We've gotten thirteen of the disabled tanks into their new bodies. The hardest part was cleaning off all
that old paint. There were dozens of layers of it. They must have repainted them every season. Only, we
didn't give them to quite the same people that we'd originally planned. You know Agnes, the person who
is taking care of your old friend Neto Kondo in the basement of the church?"
"I don't believe that I heard her name before, but I know who you are talking about. What about her?"
"She declined getting a new body, so we gave it to the next person on the list. Agnes said that she didn't
want to go to war any more, and that she was quite contented where she was. She says that she likes it in
the church, and that she spends most of her time there meditating."
"A war machine that seems to be getting religious. That's got to be a first. But if that's what she wants, I
won't stand in her way. But keep in touch with her. I'd like to know if she comes up with anything."
I spent the rest of the day exploring more of my city, mostly in the Oriental sector.
In the evening, Agnieshka said that my uncle had sent a message, saying that he liked my ideas. He
wanted to know if I couldn't come up with some sort of a recorded speech, something about a half an
hour long, explaining them further.
I asked Agnieshka to put together some sort of a short program, half speech, half documentary, that
would satisfy my Uncle Wlodzimierz. But I wanted to see it before it went out.
She said that she'd be happy to, and that she'd just gotten a call from General Sobieski. He wanted to
meet with me in Dream World. I went to my den to take the message.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
A Talk with the Boss
I'd expected to meet my boss in uniform, and in his office.
Instead, I found myself in shining ancient armor, with an honor guard of black cloaked warriors wearing
tall, mithril helmets with high white wings. We were entering Elessar's great hall in the citadel of Minas
Tirith, with a vast crowd of nobles shouting "Praise him! Praise him with great praise!"
They yelled it over and over again. I should be embarrassed to admit this, but it felt good.
General Sobieski, wearing the crown and flowing robes of the king, stepped down from his throne on
the dais to greet me.
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"I am sorry, Mickolai. I just could not resist the temptation. Now you know why it was I wanted the
Citadel, and not your golden castle."
"That's just fine, sir. Next time Zuzanna throws a party in the Dark Tower, I'll make sure that you're
invited."
"Thank you. The war permitting, I will come, and bring my friends. I heard about your searchlight party.
I wish I could have been there."
"That one had to be pretty exclusive, I'm afraid. We'll do better next time," I said.
"Mickolai, that was an absolutely brilliant campaign you just fought! Taking out their supply line,
demoralizing their not very well organized army, trashing their command center, rescuing our people who
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