The least I can do is sympathize. Suppressing my own internal conflict, I extend a hand and words of consolation to the pilot, First Lieutenant Schulz.
“I would much prefer an elegant trip through the skies, guided by a first-rate pilot such as yourself. But orders are orders, Lieutenant.”
“And what are the orders, exactly?”
I respond sadly. “Why, we are to truss you up in a parachute and toss you from the plane. Those were our orders. I’m truly sorry, Lieutenant…but you’ll need to hand the controls over now.”
“Is there no way I can fly the plane instead…?”
“I understand your reluctance to let go. But this is a one-way trip, Lieutenant Schulz. We can’t let a pilot, someone unable to fly on his own, get wrapped up in this.”
“But I know this plane, I’m the best qualified to make sure you get where you’re going. This is going to be its last flight…”
The pilot insists indignantly that he can handle the plane better than we can, showing an admirable sense of responsibility toward a salutary asset. From the viewpoint of a fellow good citizen, someone who feels similar pride and confidence in my work, I fully sympathize with First Lieutenant Schulz.
“I’m sorry to have brought something so unfortunate to your doorstep. But, like you, our hands are tied.”
“Can’t you overlook just one person?”
“I can’t,” I confirm, shaking my head sadly. “It all comes down to orders. Veteran pilots are rare. If I were to waste even one, I’m told, there would be hell to pay.”
“How heartless. Who issued such a threat?”
“Why, it came from the infamous ne’er-do-wells of the General Staff, of course. But if you would like to petition the government for compensation, you have my full support. Just send the invoice to the General Staff, if you please.”
A sad consolation, perhaps, but at least the first lieutenant gets to abscond from the battlefield. If it were me, I think I would celebrate.
“If needed, I can attach a note. General Zettour may be the type to order what is necessary, but worry not, he is not the type to categorically reject complaints.”
“A complaint to General Zettour? Thanks, but I’d rather steer clear of the heavyweights. I’m sure he’d be happy to foist even more trouble on my shoulders, given half a chance,” blurts out First Lieutenant Schulz.
Although this is technically criticism of a senior officer, I decide to let it slide, as I consider that sort of talk forgivable on the front lines. Just then, however, the young officer standing next to me speaks up.
“What did you just say?” he barks, causing me to reflexively turn his way. “I’m sorry, Captain Schulz. What did you just say about General Zettour?” asks First Lieutenant Grantz, glowering, as he stands and places a hand on Schulz’s shoulder.
The pilot continues to stare straight ahead as he responds, however, completely unfazed. “I said he’s a big shot who wouldn’t hesitate to cause me trouble. What of it?”
First Lieutenant Grantz instantly explodes with laughter.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!”
“Whoa, what is that reaction for?”
“I feel exactly the same! Captain Schulz, you are absolutely correct! Once this operation is over, give me a chance to chew your ear off. I’ll buy the drinks. I’ve got plenty of complaints of my own to share!”
“Me?”
“Yes indeed,” cries First Lieutenant Grantz, bobbing his head vigorously. “It’s not just General Zettour, it’s all those heavyweights over at the General Staff Office. They’re monsters. You’ve got the right idea: better not to have anything to do with them at all! I’m glad to meet a fellow soul, maybe this is a good day after all!”
As I watch my subordinate firmly shake the man’s hand, I feel a small morsel of regret. First Lieutenant Grantz is not the shy type, but perhaps he was not cut out for dealing with a senior officer like General Zettour. This must be a stress response. Despite handling things perfectly fine on the battlefield, when it comes to interpersonal relationships, there is apparently a side to Grantz I hadn’t expected.
“Lieutenant Grantz, I’m surprised. A warmonger like you—I saw the way you rushed out from your cushy place at General Zettour’s side just to return to the front—speaking ill of an old man like that!” I tease, but First Lieutenant Grantz vehemently objects.
“I’m sorry, Colonel! But if I am a warmonger, then General Zettour must be the world’s greatest enemy! That is not me speaking ill of him, this is just an accurate assessment!”
Captain Schulz responds to the First Lieutenant’s witty retort with enthusiasm. “Well put, Lieutenant Grantz!”
“You said it, Captain!”
The two seem to be on the same page. They would probably get along, thick as thieves.
I, on the other hand, as their superior officer, start to wonder if I should put the brakes on my subordinate badmouthing the “big shots” like this…but I soon decide to let it pass. After all, everything Grantz is saying is true, and one must always respect the truth.
Whatever. I shrug. But it’s time to wrap things up. I move to bring the derailed conversation back on track.
“Well, rejoice, Lieutenant Grantz, as you’ve now been given the honor of joining that enemy of the world, General Zettour’s, grandest operation yet.”
Turning away from the surprised First Lieutenant Grantz, I address the captain gently.
“In any case, I’m sorry to make you miss out on all the fun, but this party is for mages only.”
“This is discrimination against non-mages. You should feel ashamed.”
“A very enlightened and progressive opinion. I agree wholeheartedly. By all means, make your feelings known to the higher-ups. I can sign an affidavit if necessary. But progress is gradual and takes time. Perhaps one day, things will change, but for tonight, you will have to bow out.”
Still gripping the control stick firmly, Captain Schulz manages to squeeze out one more stoic reply.
“The festivities are really for mages only, then?”
“Indeed, a special event for our entertainment only.”
Not that I particularly want things that way, but as the one sponsoring this New Year’s mixer with the Federation Army, General Zettour has set the rules. It’s the boss’s wish. A faithful employee can only comply.
“Now then, please disembark, and keep your ears tuned to the base’s wireless. Perhaps you’ll hear the Federation Army’s rapturous welcome cries as we, and we alone, throw the finest bash this world has ever seen,” I say.
In response, Captain Schulz nods slowly and stands up.