"Also be warned if there are shining bits of metal on the shoulders, here and here. Those who wear these are known as officers and are usually too stupid to be dangerous. They must still be avoided.
"Another group, very dangerous, can be recognized by their headgear and brassard. If the letters MP appear upon the arm—go the other way. Also look for the redcap which will be mounted squarely upon the brutal head.
"Now that you know what to avoid, you know whom to approach. A simple uniformed slave. Q?me close, smile, make sure that none of thei striped and barred beasts are close, then whisper in the slave's ear… 'Do you like fresh air?' If he smiles with joy and answers 'yes,' why then he is yours. May Mark Forer guide you in this great work!"
"Cut, print, thank you gentlemen."
Morton biinked as the spots died away and began to tear off the uniform. "What, may I ask, what was this cagal • about the fresh air."
"No cagal, old friend," I said, holding up the liberty pass I had taken from the pocket of the borrowed uniform. "I intend to go forth to bring the word to the troops that when they go out the gates tomorrow night they should not bother to return."
"I knew that you had an insane idea!" he shrieked, staggering back, wide of eye and pale of skin. "The only way that you can talk to the troops is by going back onto the base."
I nodded a solemn nod of agreement.
"It is suicide," Morton shivered.
"Not at all. Good sense. If that swine Zennor is still looking for me-he certainly won't be looking among the troops. I have this pass dated for today. I return to base early since there is not much doing in the old town tonight. Then I go to the latrine, the PX, all the other exciting places where the troops assemble, and talk to the lads. And do some other interesting things which it is best you don't know about. Don't worry about me." I could worry enough for myself I thought, darkly. Once back in the army there were a number of problems I would have to tackle. And all of them were dangerous.
"But how will you .get out again?" Morton asked, his voice speaking as though from a great distance, cutting through the black brooding of my thoughts.
"The least of my worries," I laughed hollowly. And indeed it certainly was. I turned to the ever-patient Stimer who had been listening to us in silence. "You know what to do with the cassettes?"
"It will be as you planned. Volunteers are already waiting to distribute them to even more volunteers who will go forth and do good deeds just as we did. It was inspiring!"
"Indeed it was. But no sallying forth until tomorrow night in the very earliest. The password must be spread,
there must be eager volunteers to make this a mass movement. Because once the officers catch wise things will become difficult. The railroad will be watched or stopped altogether. If that happens other transport must be provided. Keep things moving though, until I get back. You are the authority on desertion now."
"How long will you be away?"
"Don't know. But for the shortest amount of time that is possible-that I can guarantee."
There was little more to say, nothing more to do. I squared my cap upon my aead and turned to the door. "Good luck," Morton saia. "Thanks." I was going to need it.
As I walked back through the empty streets toward the Vaillant section of town I fought off the depression that accompanied the uniform I wore. Nor could I drown my sorrows in drink, since money was worthless here and I had returned Stirner's wirrdisc. Soon I was walking among the inaccessible, brightly lit palaces of pleasure, pressing my nose against the window just like the other uniformed figures that roamed the streets. Some leave! Although the evening was still young, many of them were already drifting back toward Fielden Field where the camp had been built. IJoined in this Brownian movement of despair.
Bright lights burned down upon the barbed wire that encircled the green grassy meadows, where once the good citizens of the city had taken their ease. Green no more, pounded now into dust and filled with gray army tents erected to house the troops. No effete comforts for the conquering soldiers; they might get spoiled. The officers, of course, lived in prefab barracks.
It took all the strength of will that I possessed to join the line of depressed figures that moved toward the MPs at the gate. While my intelligence told me that the last thing to be expected was a soldier with a pass illegally entering the camp, the animal spirit within me was screaming with anguish.
Of course nothing untoward happened. Dim little eyes stared out from under the matt of thick eyebrows, scanned the familiar pass, waved me back into captivity. The sweat cooled from my brow and I jingled the few coins in my pocket that the freedom-bound soldier had been happy to leave behind. There was just about enough of them to buy an understrength beer in the PX. Anything is better than nothing.
