Three hours later after a short discussion with Hale I gathered up the people I wanted for a conference. But I decided this wasn't going to be a committee meeting; I wasn't going to put up my proposals to be voted on. It was going to be an exchange of ideas and information, but the only person who was going to have the final say was none other than yours truly.

 I had found Duddy shaving in front of his tractor.  "Dara, we might be going through a tough time in the next few days." He looked a bit blank while the lather on his chin dried in the sun.  "I need someone to keep the crew whipped in line.  You think you can do it?"

He gave a slow grin.  "I can do it."

"Hurry up with your shaving.  I need you to sit in on a conference."

We had Duddy, Spalding, Giles, Hale, Captain Checnecaiel and me.  Muisenaiel had been joined at our camp by Sister Anna and they were included as a matter of courtesy; any decisions would affect them, and, in any case, I didn't think I had the power to keep them out.  I had already realized they made a strong team:  just how strong I was shortly to find out.

Firstly, I outlined the geographical position, and gave them my reasons for changing our direction.  Instead of going on up the arid fastness of Tarsaz we would turn at right angles and take the secondary road to the Esnijani border at Lake Mavkhod on the Sayaiel River.  Here we had two options whereas at Tarsaz we had just one, or slightly less than one; we could turn back along the border road to Khentulga and the capital if the two countries had by then settled their border war and things were judged safe, or we could get the men (at least the men) across the Sayaiel into Esnijan and diplomatic immunity.

Hale had already heard this from me and was resigned to the possibility of losing Starduster and the capsule, and of not being able to fulfil the terms of his contract with the two opposing governments.  He did not hear my arguments.  I had already spoken to Giles and Spalding and heard it all from him.  Giles was still obviously fretting but Spalding's faith in Hale was all-consuming.  If his boss said it was OK, had no objections.  I asked Duddy what he thought the men's reactions might be.  "We don't have any choice, the way I see it.  You're the man.  They'll see it your way." He implied that they'd better, which suited me to a T.

Checnecaiel was torn between a sense of duty and a sense of relief.  To take the long hard road up to the desert, with all its attendant dangers, and without any knowledge of who or what he'd find waiting there, was less attractive than returning to a known base, in spite of the unknown factors waiting in that direction as well.  But there was one problem he didn't have that we did:  any decision concerning the moving of Starduster.

We discussed (briefly) the possible state of the road back.  It was all guesswork which Giles loathed, but at least we knew the terrain, and there was a bonus of the fact that it was principally downhill work, redescending the plateau into the woods once again.  We wouldn't run short of water; there were far more people and therefore more chance of food and even of fuel. And we wouldn't be as exposed as we would be if we continued on through the scrublands.  I hadn't discounted the likelihood of a Shamari aerial attack.

Spalding and Giles, with an escort of soldiers, were to scout ahead to check out the road while Duddy and Thad Hanchard began readying Starduster for her next stage forward, or rather backward.  Hale asked Duddy to call a meeting of the crew, so that he could tell them the exact score before we got down to the business of logistics.  Everything was falling nicely into place, including my contingency plans to help the hospital as much as possible before we pulled out.

Everything didn't include the unavoidable X factor. And the X factor was sitting right there with us.

The moment of change came when I turned to Dr. Muisenaiel and said to him, "Doctor Mu, those drugs of yours that we've got in refrigeration for you; how important are they?"

He tented his fingers.  "In the deepfreeze we have serum samples and control sera, also blood clotting agents for our few hemophiliac patients.  In the fridge there's whole blood, plasma, blood sugars, insulin and a few other things.  Not really a great deal as we try not to be dependent on refrigeration.  It's been more use in saving some of our food, though that's being used up fast."

I was relieved to hear that; they could manage without refrigeration if they needed to.  After all, most mission hospitals in poor countries work in a relative degree of primitiveness.

"We'll keep your stuff on ice as long as we can," I said.  "And we're going to have a shot at repairing your generator.  We'll do all we can before leaving."

Dr. Mu and Sister Anna exchanged the briefest of glances, which I interpreted, wrongly, as one of resignation.

"Captain Checnecaiel," said the Doctor, "Do you have any idea at all as to whether there will be a measure of peace and order soon?"

Checnecaiel spread his hands.  "No, no idea at all," he said. "Apparently, the Shamaris have defeated us; they control not only Mochi-Jojeji, but all of Zarmaria now.  I no longer have a government to answer to, I fear.  All will be done that can be done for civilians, that is true, but I have been told to stay with Mr. Drake and protect his Starduster vehicle particularly, you see.  It is very difficult to make guesses."

They spoke in English; I think in deference to us.

"The people of Kauchmaunliw will scatter among the smaller villages soon," Mu said.  "The area is well populated, which is why they need a hospital.  Many of them have already gone."

"But that solution does not apply to my patients."

"Why not?" Giles asked. 

"Because we do not have the staff to scatter around with them, to visit the sick in their homes or the homes of friends.  Many are too sick to trust to local treatment.  We have many more patients now thanks to the Shamaris and their idiotic air raid."

"How many?"

"About fifty bed patients, if we had the beds to put them in, and a hundred or more ambulatory patients.  In this context they could be called the "walking wounded," he added acidly.

"Making this only a matter of extra shelter you need," said Checnecaiel.  I knew he was partially wrong but waited to hear the doctor put it into words.

"It is much more than that, Captain.  We need shelter, yes, but that's not the whole of the problem.  We need medical supplies, but we can manage for a while on what we've got.  But our patients need nursing, food and water."

"There will be dysentery here soon," put in Sister Anna.  "There is already sepsis, and a lack of hygiene, more than we usually suffer."

"They are also vulnerable to the depredations of the Shamjari occupation forces," said Dr Mu, a sentence I felt like cheering for its sheer pomposity.  But he was right for all that.

"As we are all, including the younger nurses," added the Sister.  It began to sound like a rather well-rehearsed chorus and Hale and I exchanged a glance of slowly dawning comprehension.

"Am I not correct, Mr. Drake, in saying that you consider it the safest and most prudent course for you to leave Kauchmaunliw, to try and get away to a place of safety?"

"You heard me say so, Doctor."

"Then it follows that it must also be the right course for my patients."

For a long moment nobody said anything, and that broke the silence.  "Just how do you propose doing that?"

Muisenaiel took a deep breath.  This was the moment he'd been building up to.  "Let me see if I've got everything right that I have learned from you.  Mr. Spalding, you say that the large object you carry on your great vehicle weighs over three hundred tons, yes?"

"Yes."

"Could it carry another seven tons?"

"No trouble at all," said Spalding.

"Seven tons is about the weight of a hundred people," said Muisenaiel blandly.

Or one more elephant, I thought with a manic inward chuckle.  The silence lengthened as we all examined this strange proposition.  It was broken by the Doctor, speaking gently and reasonably, "I'm not advocating that you take as all the way to a border, of course.  There is another good, if small, hospital at Vaujhoraus on the north road, just at the top of the next escarpment.  It has no airfield and is not itself important so I don't think it will have been troubled by the war.  They could take care of us all.

I doubted that and didn't think for a moment that Dr. Mu believed it himself, but I had to hand it to him; he was plausible and a damned good psychologist.  Not only did his proposition sound well within the bounds of reason and capability, but I could tell from the rapt faces around me that the sheer glamour of what he was suggesting was beginning to put a spell on them.  It was a Pied Piper kind of situation, stuffed with pathos and heroism, and would go far to turn the ignominious retreat into some kind of whacky triumph.  The Dunkirk spirit, I thought---the great British knack of taking defeat and making it look like victory.

There was just one little problem.  Vaujhoraus, it appeared, was on the very road that we had already decided to abandon, heading north into the desert and across the into Shamajar to our original destination, Sutovo.  I was about to say as much when to my surprise Hale cut in with a question that implied that his thinking was not going along with mine at all.

He said, "How far is it to this Vaujhoraus?"

"Fifty miles.  The road is quite good.  I have often driven there," the doctor said.

Spalding spoke up.  "Excuse me, Doctor.  Is it level or uphill?"

"I would say it is fairly flat.  There are no steep hills."

Duddy said, "We can rig tents over the bogies to keep off the sun."

Spalding asked, his mind seething with practicalities, "Fifty odd patients, and a staff of...?"

"Say ten," said Sister Anna.

"What about all the rest, then?"

"They would walk.  They are very hardy and used to that, and even those who are wounded will manage.  There are a few hospital cars, but we have no spare gasoline.  I believe Starduster does not go very fast, gentlemen."

"We could take some up on the space between the cab and the launcher. And we've got your car, Mr. Drake, and Mr. Giles's Land Rover, and maybe the military could give up some space," Spalding said.

"Couldn't you do away with that so-called 'launcher'?" the Sister asked

"Oh, no way, ma'am.  It's fixed to Starduster's superstructure by steel plates set in cement.  Besides, that part of Starduster contains equipment and machinery we can't do without.  Maybe there's room in the launch-control office on the starboard side.  The windows are made of sunscreen-treated glass so that'll eliminate sunburn potential."

Duddy said, "As long as they don't touch anything, there's room for some of the nippers in the cab.  Damn thing's as wide as the bridge of the bloody Starship Enterprise."

"Nippers?" the doctor asked.

"The children," Duddy said.

I looked from face to face.  On only one of them, and that predictably was Cliff Giles, did I see a trace of doubt or irritation.  Minds were catching fire as we talked.  Geographical niceties were either being overlooked or deliberately avoided, and somehow, I couldn't bring myself to splash cold water on their blazing enthusiasm.  But this was insanity itself.

Dr. Mu regarded the back of his hands and flexed his fingers thoughtfully.  "I might have room to operate while we're traveling.  Would there be room for that?"

"Room, yes, but it'd be too bumpy, Doctor.  You'd have to work whenever we stopped," said Spalding.  He had a notebook out and was already making sketches.

Checnecaiel spoke.  "I think my men can walk, and the wounded will ride.  They are our people, and we must take care of them."  He squared his shoulders as he spoke and I saw the lifting of a big burden from his shoulders; he had been given a job to do, something real and necessary no matter which side was winning the mysterious war out there.  It called for simple logistics, basic planning, clear orders, and he was capable of all that.

And, above all, it called for no change in the route once planned for him and us by his (former) masters.  It was perfect for him. It solved all his problems in one fell swoop.

Sister Anna stood up.  

"Have you a schematic for your Starduster?"

"Yes, ma'am.  What do you need it for?" he asked.

"I want to know how long she is. I have to plan for beds, you see."

"I'll come with you," he said. "You'll need somebody to help you read it."

Duddy lumbered to his feet. "I'll go round up the lads, Mr. Hale," he said. "You'll be wanting to talk to them yourself."  The doctor too rose, dusting himself off fastidiously.  He made a small half-bow to Andy Hale.  "I have to thank you, sir," he said formally. "This is a very fine thing that you do.  I'll go back now, please.  I've got many arrangements I've got to make."

Checnecaiel said, "I will take the Doctor and then prepare my own orders.  I'll come back to advise you, Mr. Drake. We should not delay, I think."

Around us the conference melted away, each member intent on his or her own affairs.  Astonishingly, nobody had waited to discuss this new turn of events or even to hear from the so-called bosses as to whether it was even going to happen.  In a matter of moments Giles, Hale and I were left alone.  For once I felt helpless.

Giles shrugged his shoulders.  "It's all quite mad," he said.  "We can't possibly get involved in this..this...."

"Stunt?" Hale asked gently.  "Cliff, we are involved.  I've never seen a piece of manipulation more skillfully done.  Those two have run rings around the lot of us, and there's no way that we could put a stop to this business.  What's more," he went on, overriding Giles's protests, "I don't think I'd want to stop it.  It's nuts, but it sounds feasible and it's humanely necessary.  It's going to put a lot of heart into our lads. None of them likes what's happened, they feel frustrated, cheated, and impotent.

I finally got a word in.  "Andy, we'd already decided that we shouldn't carry on northwards.  This would be a very fine thing to do, but..."

"You too, Sam?  Are you seriously going to fight with me about this?  I think it's damn important.  Look, it's 50 miles.  Two, maybe three days extra, getting there and back here to Kauchmaunliw.  Then we're on our own again. And there's more.  The news that we must turn back on is one they were going to take damn hard.  This way they'll at least have the feeling that they're doing something worthwhile."

He stretched his arms and yawned, testing the stiffness in his side.

"I'll feel like I'm doing something worthwhile, come to that. Let's get to it"

Down near Starduster Duddy had called all hands together.  Hale and I went to meet them.  On the way I stopped and called Hudson over to give him an instruction that brought first a frown and then a grin to his face.  He in turn summoned Gue and they vanished.  "What did you tell him?" Hale asked.

"A bit of psychology.  You'll see.  Don't start till he's back, will you?"

Hudson and Gue returned a few moments later, lugging two cardboard boxes.  To the assembled men I said, "Here you go, guys.  One can apiece.  Send them around, cookie."

Hudson began handing out six-packs of beer, "Management too," I reminded him. "And that includes the Doctor and Sister Anna." There was a buzz of conversation as the packs went out, and then I held up a hand in silence.

"Everybody happy?"

Laughter rippled.  Cans were already being opened, and Harry Gue paused with his halfway to his mouth.  "What are we celebrating, chief?  The end of the war?"

"Not quite.  We're celebrating the fact that this is the last cold beer we're all gonna get for a while."  At this there was a murmur of confusion. I held up an open can.  "Some of you may know this already.  We're using the fridge to store the hospital's drugs and as much food as possible for the patients, especially the kids.  From now on, it'll be warm beer and canned food for the lot of us.  My heart bleeds for you."

This brough yet another laugh.  Gilbert said, "We're staying here, then?"

This was Hale's moment, and he walked up the little gangway and stood beside the hatchway that led into Starduster's cab.   He had recovered well from his shakeup in the air crash, unlike Artem Sirenko, who still lay comatose in Starduster's shade and was a constant source of worry to all of us.

Hale said, "No, we're not staying here.  We're moving out, maybe today, more likely tomorrow.  But we're not going much further north."

Into an attentive silence which I judged to be not hostile he outlined the geographical picture, the political scene such as we knew it, and the reasons for abandoning the contract.  The crew accepted everything without argument, though there was a lot of muted discussion, and I was impressed again by Hale's air of command and his control over his team.  I'd had my eye on Patrick and Harry Gue as being the two most likely hardliners, but there was no opposition even from them.  The argument in favor of saving their own asses was a strong one, and unlike Herolution's management they had no stake in the outcome of the job.

Hale went on to the second half of the story, and now their astonishment was obvious.  There was a burst of talking and signs of excitement and enthusiasm beginning to creep into their voices.  It was almost like giving a bunch of kids a dazzling new game to play with. 

"There you have it, chums.  We move out as soon as we can, and we're taking a whole lot of sick and injured people and all the hospital staff with us, and everybody who can walk will be tailing along for their daily bandage changes.  We're going to carry as many people as possible, especially the badly injured, on Starduster. We're going to need every ounce of your energy and charity.  Are we all in agreement?"

There was a ready chorus of assent.  Hale went on: "Any bright ideas you may have, pass them along to Dara or Mr. Spalding or me.  Any medical questions direct to the Sister."  I smiled briefly at the division between those who were "Mr." and those who were not, even in these fraught moments; another example of the gulf between their country and mine.

"When we've seen them safe at the hospital in Vaujhoraus, we'll turn around and set off towards the Sayaiel.  We reckon on only two extra days for the mission. Thank you, chums."

Dara Duddy rose and bellowed.

"Right, lads! Five minutes to finish your beer and then let's be at it.  There's plenty to be done."

As Hale and I walked off, well pleased with the way our bombshell of news had gone down, Sister Anna waylaid us, having no doubt got all she wanted from Nick Spalding.

"Mr. Drake, I want transport back to the hospital, please."

"No way," I said. "You're needed here.  The crew is going to be pestering you with questions and ideas, and Andy and I have got quite a few of our own."

"I'll be needed at the hospital."

"I'm sure you will.  But Sister Matthew is there with the others and you're the only one here. And the rate your Dr. Mu works, there'll probably be a first load of patients arriving within the hour.  The boys'll work under your direction, yours and Nick's that is.  They've got tents to pitch, bedding to get cut, all kinds of stuff.  And you've got to choose a spot for your operating room.

"I've already done that." But she wasn't pig-headed when faced with plain good sense and agreed readily enough to stay and get on with her end of the job, for which I was thankful.  If it came to the crunch, I didn't think I would ever win out against her.  

We all worked hard and Starduster was transformed.  Checnecaiel's men rounded up some of the local women and put them to work erecting crude tents, silently at first and then as the strangeness and fear started to wear off, they had begun to sing in a melodic chorus as they worked.  As it took shape Starduster's mid-section began to look pretty strange wearing a little town of plastic and cloth umbrellas.  I was amused to think what Giles would have to say:  he had gone off to check the road leading northwards out of town.

Hay from ruined barns began to pile up to make bedding for each of the patients as we found places for them.  Even the tank Duddy had salvaged was to carry its share of patients, perched in the turret.  The gun had been ditched once it was clear that there was no ammunition for it.  I doubt if you could see anything in the world more incongruous than a tank with colorful canopy made of woven cloth and plastic.

Checnecaiel had unearthed two old trucks which Nick Spalding pronounced as serviceable, and we fashioned a canopy for one of those.  The other came with its own canvas tent.  There were few other vehicles in Kauchmaunliw that had escaped either the strafing or the fires.

There was moderately good news about gasoline.  Outside the town we found a full 4000-gallon tanker.  It must have been abandoned by its driver at the onset of the air strike.  It escaped tenting because I jibbed at carrying bedridden patients on top of potential bombs.  

Sister Anna was endlessly busy.  She supervised the cutting of bedding, to make sure that none was wet and that the worst of the bug life was shaken out of it, checked through our food supplies and made a complete inventory, rounded up towels and sheets from everybody, and selected a space on Starduster for Dr. Mu's mobile OR.  Her choices were limited because it was hard to find a space that would not get smothered in the dust our massive vehicle would stir up in its progress.  What she settled on, a small patch just behind the cab dome, was, she pointed out, very exposed.  But in our supplies, we had a gaggle of mylar pup tents and one of these, after some tailoring, made a fairly passable enclosed space.  A second tent formed a screen for the patients' toilet, a high-impact plastic bucket.

It was all quite astonishing.

The Sister then proceeded to go through the camp like a one-woman locust swarm, sweeping up everything that she thought might be useful.  Every pair of scissors she could find she confiscated; she almost denuded the galley of knives; and she kept young Gue on the run, setting him to boil water to sterilize the things she found.

Once done, they were wrapped in sheets of polyethene.  Everything as sterile as she could make it. They were then stored in a corner of Starduster's freezer, to slow down microbial activity.  She confiscated packets of paperclips and went through Giles's Land Rover, removing clips from every piece of paper in sight, garnering sticky tape, rubber bands and string. Our several first aid boxes all went into her hoard.

Military trucks began arriving from the hospital, carrying, not people yet, but things like food, medicine, bandaging, implements, dishes and hardware of all kinds.  Among other things was a contraption on a trolley that Sister Anna dismissed with annoyance.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdxPaQPMFY3

"That thing doesn't work.  Hasn't for a long time.  It's a waste of space."193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIa1h4NnbfT

"What is it, Sister?" It was Nick Spalding who asked, and who seemed to be in constant attendance, not in Dara Duddy's proprietorial fashion but as head gofer to a factory foreman.  Her demands fascinated and challenged him.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmOKOhkRjpq

"It is, or was, a portable anesthetic machine." 

"If it were fixed, could be used?" She nodded and he fixed it.  He was a damned good mechanic.

The Sister found a place for Artem Sirenko and he was gently lifted onto his pile of bedding; Starduster Hospital's first patient.  He'd been showing some signs of recovering consciousness in the past few hours, but the portents weren't good; he looked and sounded awful.

I kept busy and tried not to think about him, putting him in the same mental folder in which lurked other worries:  the state of the two countries and Mochi-Jojeji, the war's progress, and the chance of another Shamari squadron bombing us as we sat helpless.  Starduster could run out of water, the trucks' fuel might run out, there could be sickness or mechanical failures.  There was no communication with the world aside from the unreliable and sporadic messages received on the captain's radio.  I kept going, knowing that when I stopped the problems would close in.

It was a long, complex and trying day.   There was little talking as evening fell and we ate thoughtfully and turned in.  I lay fighting off despair, and even coined a phrase for it: Drake's Depression.  The odds against us seemed to be stacked far too high.