War Games by Christopher Anvil & edited by Eric Flint

Author:Christopher Anvil & edited by Eric Flint [Anvil, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 1-4165-5602-8
Publisher: Baen Books
Published: 2008-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

Arakal reread the message that had come in flashes of light down the line of towers from New England. He looked at Slagiron.

"The Russ are heading for Kebeck Fortress, overland." He handed the message to the leader of the Kebeckers, who had just joined them, and whose translator, standing between his chief and Arakal, translated Arakal's comment, then bent over the message and read it in a low voice.

The Kebecker chief glanced at the plot, where the red emblems climbing the green and brown slopes and surrounded by a multitude of small blue markers were now being moved further forward. Then he turned with a slight smile, to give the message back to Arakal.

"Ça sera un peu difficile pour les Russes," the Kebecker said, speaking slowly and distinctly, and holding one hand up to silence his translator.

Arakal winced and glanced at the ceiling. It came to him that the Kebecker had somehow learned of the hundreds of hours he, Arakal, had put into a study of the Kebeck tongue, while the depth of winter made campaigning impractical. Arakal had been prepared to forget all about this and rely on the translators, but someone's sense of humor had given away the secret. All winter Slagiron and the others had joked slyly at Arakal's laborious progress, while Arakal, chafing at the depths of linguistic incapacity revealed to him with each day's effort, nevertheless had refused to give up. Determinedly good-natured, he replied, "While you pass the winter in perfumed idleness, I am laying the groundwork for the future. If we are going to clout the Russ in the springtime, one of us, at least, ought to understand the Kebeckers' chief. He has shrewd ideas, but the translators are no military geniuses, and now and then they miss the point. And it is up to us to solve it somehow. You know as well as I do that their chief can't speak a word of English—not that he hasn't at least tried."

Slagiron shook his head. "He did memorize that greeting when we got Carlo across the border and went up there for a talk."

Arakal nodded, remembering the incident soberly. "That's what I mean."

Colputt turned to Smith. "Did we ever figure out what he said?"

Smith looked helpless. "Don't ask me. Did you see the looks on the faces of the translators?"

"In my opinion, it wasn't anything," said Casey. "Neither their talk nor our talk. Just noise. It sounded like something, but nobody could make it out."

Arakal shook his head. "Our translators explained it to me later. He had our words and his way of speaking. That's why nobody could follow it. But the translators finally figured it out. What he said was just what we thought he must be saying, from his expression. He greeted us, praised Carlo, and looked forward to our future cooperation."

"Hm-m-m," said Slagiron slyly, "but will you be able to do as well come next spring?"

Everyone had laughed at that as the snow whipped around the winter camp, and the cold set its teeth into the logs of the buildings.

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