The Puppies of Terra by Thomas M. Disch

Author:Thomas M. Disch [Disch, Thomas M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi, Science Fiction
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 1980-01-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

In which I stand in debt to N. Gogol.

Let us say nothing of frying pans and fires. Let us say nothing of probabilities. To have parachuted smack-dab into the middle of the enemy’s camp (and the neatest bomb could not have dropped on its target more truly than I had, by blind chance) is an event so deficient in probability that only the incontrovertible fact of its having happened can ease my embarrassment in relating it. In fiction such a coincidence would be inexcusable; in history these things happen all the time.

So, to return to la chose véritable…

“You have been,” I asked, hesitatingly, “expecting me?”

Captain Frangle twirled a moustache craftily. “There have been rumors… a word dropped here, and a word there… Nothing you can put your finger on, you understand… nothing explicit, but nevertheless.”

“Rumors, you say? Exactly what sort of rumors?”

“Oh—vague rumors, sir! Extremely vague and indistinct. Almost unbelievable, but nevertheless…” And the Captain winked knowingly.

“Nevertheless?” I insisted.

“What I meant to say was—nevertheless, here you are, you see. Which shows, I think, that there must have been something in the rumors after all. Then again, perhaps not. Far be it from me to say, one way or the other. You would certainly know better than I, Major.” He trailed off into a laugh of consummate self-deprecation. Then, turning to two of his underlings who had been gathering up the folds of the parachute, he bade them hurry up with their work—in quite opposite tones.

Now fortunately I was at that time well enough acquainted with “The Inspector General”, that splendid comedy by the Russian master, Nikolai Gogol, to suspect a certain congruence between the situation of Gogol’s hero and my own plight. The eagle on the shoulder of my borrowed overcoat had apparently deceived Captain Frangle into thinking I was his superior officer; it also seemed that he had been anticipating the visit of a senior officer—and not with relish. For the time being I could hope to keep up the bluff, but it was not an imposture that could be maintained indoors, for beneath my overcoat and rubber boots I was naked as Laocoön.

“A cup of coffee, Major? Or if you prefer something more… spirited? Eh? Something to bring color to the cheek and a smile to… Eh? That is to say, if you don’t object to a glass… or two? Eh?” All the while, Captain Frangle was edging toward a lighted doorway at the corner of the compound.

“A few questions first, Captain, if you don’t mind.”

“By all means, sir! Abso-lute-ly! We’ve nothing to hide from you, sir. Our hearts… and our hands… are as open for your inspections as if… and, if you wish, our pocket-books, too! Only joking, you understand, but feel free, Major. Make yourself right at home in our little penitentiary here.”

“How many officers are here beside yourself? And how many guards?”

“Officers? Well, Lieutenant Mosely, of course. Good man, Mosely. You’ve already met him, I think, when you were at the Shroeder evacuation.”

“Oh yes, Mosely.

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