Esau interrupted. "But she lied! She said I accused her of playing up to him!"

"That doesn't answer my question. It's backflash, Recruit Esau Wesley, and it's earned you a six-by pit to dig before you go to bed tonight. You've got to break that habit. Another backflash tonight and you'll go without breakfast again in the morning."

Esau seemed to shrink, but his expression was bitter and obstinate.

Hawkins' voice was mild again. "Now, I'll ask you once more. Your last chance. Do you think she could have run faster this morning? Or is it just a matter of she couldn't run as fast as most of the others?" Esau didn't answer at once. "The answer, Esau," Hawkins prompted, his voice soft but ominous. "The answer. Nothing else."

"No, sir. It seems to me she ran as fast as she could."

"Thank you, Esau, for your honest answer. So why did you, ah, upbraid her for her late finish?"

Esau looked at his hands, folded on his lap. "I'm the leader of our fire team. I'm responsible for it. And her and Isaiah Vernon are both in it."

"And?"

He looked at Hawkins now, frustrated and upset. "They can't run as fast as the others, and they're weaker!"

"I know that. But do they do as well as they can?"

Esau deflated. "I guess."

"You have some doubts, do you?"

There was a brief lag, then Esau answered. "No. No doubts. She tries all right, hard as she can. And I suspect he does too."

"Are they improving?"

Grudgingly, "Yessir."

"Good. That's what we want them to do. What we want all of you to do. And you Jerries are doing well. You were strong to start with, and you try hard. Your corporals just completed their training here, and they tell us how impressed they are with you all. Jael in particular, because she's a woman. And most young women don't get the kind of physical exercise young men get. Even on New Jerusalem I suspect."

He paused, sizing up Esau, who seemed to be coming out of his black pit. "Tell me, Esau: have you said anything to Isaiah about his running? And his strength?"

"Once or twice."

"Did you ever upbraid him the way you did Jael?"

Esau relapsed a bit. "No, sir."

"Why is that?"

"He's not my wife."

"Do you think your wife's running, and her strength, reflect on you personally?"

He met Hawkins' gaze now, and his voice turned monotone. "It's not that. But I'm our fire team leader, and because of them, my team is the weakest in the platoon. I'll never make squad leader, or recruit platoon leader."

"Ahh! So you want to be squad leader. At least. Why?"

The question took Esau by surprise. "Why, so things'll be done right, and folks'll give it all they've got. Captain Mulvaney said it himself: we'll have to give it all we've got to win the war."

Hawkins nodded slowly. "Those are good reasons. So let me tell you how that works. You start with the people assigned to you, whoever and whatever they are. Some will be strong, some not so strong, some smart, some not so smart. Some able, some not so able. A leader's job is to work with what he's got, and make them an effective team. To do it with fairness, and a minimum of turmoil and resentment. A fire team and squad live together, work together, defend each other. They're closer and more loyal to each other than brothers.

"We senior cadre will base our final decisions on leadership on how well you lead. On your ability to handle the personnel you have." He paused meaningfully. "Including your fairness.

"You, Esau, are physically strong. And fast and smart. But those aren't enough by themselves. Just now, Ensign Berg and I have misgivings about your suitability for leadership. You've shown excellent potential, but you have two major weaknesses. One, you are sometimes surly, and take your frustrations out on others. In this case your wife, which is seriously unfair.

"The other is your backflashing. You backflash more than anyone else in the platoon. When given orders, carry them out! Don't answer back, or argue or discuss-except when invited to. You can't be given authority to order others, when you take orders so poorly yourself."

Hawkins got to his feet. "Now. About your punishments-Recruit Jael, for punching Esau in the eye, you will dig a pit tonight, six feet long, six wide and six deep. After lights out. Recruit Esau, you will also dig one, for backflash. The CQ will supervise you. Report to him in the orderly room at 2200 hours.

"You are now dismissed."

Jael and Esau didn't go directly to their hut. Instead they strolled silently along the road that framed the battalion area. Esau's hand found hers, and she accepted it. After a bit he spoke. "At school once, Speaker Farnham chided me for bullying other kids. I denied it, didn't think I did it, till he gave me instances." He stopped, turned her to him, and held her two hands gently. "And this morning I was bullying you. The onliest one here that means much to me. I'm truly sorry, Jael, and I hope you'll forgive me." His voice broke then, taking him by surprise, and he took her in his arms, his tears falling on her hair and upturned face.

"Oh Esau, I do forgive you, I truly do. And I hope you'll forgive me for striking you. That was bullying, too. I'm not sure I'd have done it, if I hadn't known inside that you wouldn't hit me back. So that makes me a bully."

They clung to each other in the unlighted street until Esau could speak again. "Sweetheart," he husked, "I'm not sure but what I might slip up and talk like that again sometime. I'll surely try not to, but man is a weak vessel, and I might could slip up. So if ever I bully you again, just punch me in the eye. To remind me." His composure slipped again, and again his tears fell on her.

"Honey," she answered without smiling, "I'll pray not to. Because I do love you so."

They embraced again, this time their lips joining.

When the couple had left the orderly room, Sergeant Hawkins went to the hut and told Recruit Isaiah Vernon to come with him, that he had questions he wanted to ask. Then he took him to the dayroom, looking for privacy. At Hawkins' suggestion, they both drew a cup of coffee from the small urn there, before sitting down on opposite sides of a cribbage table. Isaiah had never been in the dayroom before. A sort of recreation room, it was part of a company's normal setup, but the recruits' training schedule left them almost no time to use it. Most had literally forgotten it was there.

"Vernon," Hawkins began, "you said you were being educated as a speaker of the books. I suppose by now you realize that we Sikhs don't know much about the Church of the Testaments. As children we're taught the basics of all the major religions, but we don't get down much into the, um, subdivisions. So I may ask you questions from time to time, to give me a better sense of your beliefs." He paused. "Does it bother you that we refer to you as Jerries?"

"No sir, Sergeant. Not me at least, and I've never heard anyone complain of it. It seems like a natural thing to do." He hesitated. "We are not a people greatly given to complaint. And in The Book of Contemplations, Elder Hofer taught that we should tolerate and respect… unbelievers."

Hawkins nodded solemnly. Their briefing had mentioned that a North American named Albert Hofer had founded the Jerrie church. "Ah," he said, "we have tolerance in common at least. "Guru Nanak founded the Sikh religion on the philosophy of religious tolerance." He raised an eyebrow. "How do you get along with other religions on New Jerusalem?"

Hawkins knew the answer, but he wanted to learn how frank this youth would be with him. The question didn't faze Isaiah. "Sir, there are no other religions on New Jerusalem. Other religions have their own worlds, or at least a place on Terra, and we respect that. But we keep our planet for ourselves. It's in our charter with the Commonwealth."