Epilogue
It was recruiting day at Westerly Antiagathics. The army was back with its dog and pony show. The master of ceremonies, dressed casually and attractively in a clingsuit of muted terra cotta, was just finishing up his opening remarks and now the Parade of Uniforms was starting. They came from the wings of the stage, two from either side, a man and a woman dressed in period. They walked onto the stage in pairs and, as the army spokesman made some brief remarks about the periods which they were representing, they moved down the apron and onto the long runway, walking with the gait of experienced models.
Rick Cooper, a clerk in the administrative department, sat in the thirty-second row. He watched a Greek woman as she moved languidly past him on the long runway and he exhaled heavily.
"Boy, that's the life, eh? What I wouldn't give to get my hands on someone like her!"
The man beside him chuckled. "That lady ain't no trooper, son. The closest she ever came to ancient Greece was when she studied it in school."
"Well, maybe so," said Rick, "but you've got to admit that they don't make 'em like they used to."
"That's for sure," said Lucas. "As a temporal trooper, you'd be able to appreciate that. If you were lucky enough to find some time in which to enjoy a woman, she'd probably be some stinking prostitute with no teeth and a crotchful of lice. Let's hear it for the old days."
"Oh, come on now," Rick said, "you're just focusing on the bad parts."
"If the teeth and crotch are bad, I wouldn't give you much for the rest of her."
"You know what I mean. Things were simpler back then. Men were men, not just cogs in some conglomerate machine. There's no adventure anymore, no glamor."
"Sure. It's a lot more glamorous to be cannon fodder than to be a cog."
"Oh, what would you know about it?"
"I was in the Corps," said Lucas. "Name's Lucas Priest, First Lieutenant, United States Army Temporal Corps, retired."
"You were an officer? Really?"
"Well, my promotion and my honorable discharge came together."
"So you know what it's all about, then. You know the score."
Lucas nodded. "Don't let 'em scam you, kid. It's a hell of a rough gig. The roughest. They only tell you about how glamorous it is, a simpler time, the quest for adventure and glory and all that bullshit. It's a snow job. You join the service, chances are you'll never get out alive. Oh, you'll get to see all those wonderful places they tell you about, plus some they don't tell you about, like Stalingrad, Bataan, Carthage, Thermopylae. It's a real picnic—and you get a front row seat, too. Join the Temporal Corps, travel through time to wonderful, far off exotic places. Meet glamorous, exotic people. And kill them. Or get your own nuts shot off."
"Maybe you've got a point," Rick said. "Maybe it is all just a snow job. Maybe it is a lot rougher and a lot more dangerous than they let on. Maybe I won't get back alive. Maybe I'll get shot or knifed or catch an arrow in my back or God only knows what else, come down with some disease and not get cured in time, but you went through it and you made it, didn't you?"
"Only because I was very lucky," Lucas said.
"Then you can't be the only one," said Rick. "I know they lay it on pretty thick, I'm not a fool. But look at me. I'm eighteen years old and I've done nothing but go to school all my damn life. I worked my ass off so I could get a decent job and now I've got one and what do I have to look forward to? Spending the next hundred years working for the corporation, filling out forms, programming computers, sitting on my duff all day and coming home to watch the holo at night. Anyplace where you can go for some excitement, I can't afford. So that's it, right? Okay, so maybe you're a little jaded, but you've had your shot. You took the gamble and you time traveled and you made it back and now that you're older, you can settle back and enjoy a boring job and have those memories to keep you going. Me? I never even had a chance to get any memories. I say the hell with it, I'm joining up. Maybe I'm throwing my life away. Maybe I'll go through all kinds of hell and feel sick and scared and hurt, but it beats being bored to death. This job might be all right for you, Mr. Priest, because you had a chance for some adventure while you were still young. Me, I'm not going to blow that chance."
He got up and walked to the back of the hall, where the recruiting tables were set up.
Lucas sat still in his seat. "While I was still young?" he said to himself. He shook his head. "Damn kids. Think they know it all. Stupid fool's throwing his life away."
He looked up to see an armored knight walking past him on the runway, nysteel gleaming, sword held at the ready.
Maybe he's the one who's got a point, thought Lucas. It does beat hell out of being bored.
He licked his lips, sighed, then got up and followed Rick toward the recruiting tables.
"Shit," he said. "I'm really going to hate myself tomorrow morning."