Free Armor by John Steakley Page B

Forest, sitting up straighter. Felix noticed that she had become quite animated all of a sudden. “So you’d be happy for a while. But what if he bought it? What then? That would be pretty bad, wouldn’t it?”
    “Of course it would be bad. I wouldn’t want. ...”
    “You’re goddamn right you wouldn’t,” retorted Forest with a growing fervor. Felix looked at her. “And you know why, too, Lohman. Because he’s not like everyone else and you know it. He’s not. He is a symbol. He’s everybody’s symbol. And more. It’s like. . . he’s the kind of thing that we all. . . that’s all of us put together to. ...”
    “ ‘He’s the best of us, ‘ “ said Felix, reciting. “ “The best of our best, the best that each of us will ever build or ever love. So pray for this Guardian of our growth and choose him well, for if he be not truly blessed, then our designs are surely frivolous and our future but a tragic waste of hope.
    Bless our best and adore for he doth bear our measure to the
    Cosmos. ‘ “
    “Hot damn,” shouted Forest. “That’s it. That’s exactly it.”
    “Where did that come from, Felix?” asked Lohman, equally touched. “Is that a prayer?”
    “Not precisely. It’s part of a coronation ceremony.”
    “Coronation?” repeated Lohman. “You mean like royalty?
    Like a King?”
    Felix wished he had kept his mouth shut, replied evenly.
    “A king in a way. The title is Guardian.”
    “It’s beautiful,” said Forest.
    “Yeah,” agreed Lohman. “But what’s that part about choosing? You don’t choose royalty. Don’t people just have to okay it, no matter what?”
    “No,” said Felix. “They can refuse a potential Guardian before he assumes the title.” He was lost, then, for an instant. In the past. “In his youth,” he continued after a moment, fumbling somewhat.
    The other two seemed to sense his unease.
    “Sounds interesting,” said Forest.
    “Fascinating,” echoed Lohman. “What planet did you say this was from?”
    “I didn’t,” replied Felix curtly, deciding, suddenly, to end it.
    There was a long pause while the other two exchanged glances. Finally, Lohman broke the silence.
    “You’re a strange one, Felix. What are you doing here anyway?”
    Felix lifted his helmet and met her gaze as best he could through their two face screens.
    “Fighting ants,” he replied evenly.
    “And what else,” Lohman wanted to know.
    “Fearing ants,” he added.
    “Hmm,” said Lohman after a slight hesitation. “Well, I must be off. Nice meeting you, Felix.”
    And she was gone. Forest got up then too, mumbling something about some sort of duty.
    Felix sat there alone and tried not to think but, of course, could not help it. He thought and he wondered and realized that he couldn’t really conceive of what Forest had meant when she had spoken of Kent. He was totally unable to effectively associate what he was doing with symbols or inspiration or. . . love. For it was a form of love that he had seen in her voice. Perhaps, he thought, it’s because I didn’t start this with any of those things in mind. Or more likely, it’s because none of those things have anything to do with me now. Maybe they never did.
    He lay back prone on the sand and gazed up into the artificial twilight caused by the eclipse. In his mind he saw the names of Forest and Kent and Felix and tried to feel some sort of connection between the three of them, some common . . . something. A little while later he gave it up. And a little while after that, he decided that it didn’t matter at all.
    “I’m sorry, Felix,” said Forest.
    Felix said nothing. Instead he watched the retreating form of the Colonel, ambling up through the gorge past the jostling lines of warriors passing casualties head over head to the top.
    It was an awkward exercise. Battle armor was bulky and difficult to get a good grip on, even for similarly suited warriors. Those wounded who were awake helped as best they could, which was little enough. For some positions, though more convenient for the carriers, were quite