“come in, private. have a seat. make yourself comfortable.”
“thank you, sir,” private jones managed to say. he sat down uncertainly in the chair in front of the general’s desk, and probably would have knocked the chair over if it had not been bolted to the floor.
general johnson smiled at private jones in the pleasantest manner he was able to summon.
admiral barker and air commander washington were seated in comfortable chairs to the left and right of the general, and they too managed something like friendly smiles and nods at the bewildered private.
behind the three senior officers a map of the galaxy, with colored pins indicating the progress of the war, covered the wall.
“i don’t suppose you know why you are here,” the general asked the private.
“no, sir, i do not.”
“do you have any thoughts, any suspicions, as to why you may be here?” the general asked gently.
private jones hesitated, but replied again, “no, sir, i do not.”
“none at all?”
“no, sir.”
“do you know your rank, private? i do not mean the fact that you are a private, but your ranking within human society?”
“yes, sir, i do. i am number 11, 789, 543, 201 - out of 19, 788, 895, 023.”
“very good, private, very good.” the general glanced back at the other two officers.
“did you just look that up?” admiral barker asked, “or did you know it?”
private jones flushed slightly. “i try to keep track, sir.”
“that’s good, private, very good,” the general replied. “well, that is enough chit chat. let’s get down to business. how would you like to go on a secret mission, eh? a secret mission that might change the whole course of the war?”
“a secret mission to change the whole war, sir?”
“i perceive you are not deaf, private. that is what i said.”
“but, sir, why me? as i have indicated i do not even rank in the top 50 percent of society! i am barely in the top 60 percent! and i have no special training or aptitude for such a thing - so - so, i have no idea why you would choose me.”
“we chose you precisely because you are so unlikely,” said air commander washington. “we have good reason to believe that the mutants have spies among us and have compromised our security. therefore we want to find someone buried so deep in the population that they could never find them. does that answer your question?”
“um - yes, sir. thank you.”
“tell me,” the general asked private jones, “what are your thoughts on the cat-men and the dog-men? do you think you could pass yourself off to them as a deserter and a sympathizer?”
“i - i am not sure, sir.”
“does the thought of being torn to pieces by them, if you were found out, frighten you?,” the admiral asked.
“i have to admit it does, sir.”
“i don’t know why,” the admiral replied. “it would be no worse than being blown to bits by a bomb from the mutants - a risk we all face every day.”
“that is true, sir,” private jones answered. “i had not thought of it that way.”
“what were your thoughts on animals before the mutation?” the general asked. “did you have any pets, any cats or dogs or other pets when you were growing up?”
oh, yes, sir i had a cat. a cat named sunshine.”
“sunshine, eh? and were you fond of sunshine?”
“oh yes, sir, i loved her very much! she was the sweetest little kitty you ever saw. she was the whole world to me.”
“i see. and do you think your memories of sunshine have any effect on your enthusiasm for the war effort.”
“i really do not know, sir.”
“what are your thoughts on the war, private?” air commander washington asked. “in a broad historical context, i mean.”
“oh, sir, i think it is terrible! terrible that living creatures can not just get along, but must fall on each other and tear each other to pieces. i do not understand why we can not just get along, as i got along with sunshine, in the faraway golden days.
“i think we have heard quite enough,” said the admiral.
“i agree,” said the general. “you may go, private.”
private jones jumped to his feet. “thank you, sir. do you think, sir that i will - “
“you may go, private,” the general repeated.
private jones made his escape, and the guard closed the door behind him.
“another one bites the dust,” observed the air commander. “what was that, the fifteenth today?”
“the fifteenth or sixteenth,” sighed the admiral. “but what can we do but carry on?”
the general opened a drawer in his desk. “i think we could all use a drink,” he announced.
there was no disagreement.
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