Gonzalez nodded sympathetically. “The Kristang won’t allow weapons on the elevator. We’re supposed to get weapons, body armor and everything else we’ll need, when we get to wherever we’re going. Personally, I like my old M4, but I don’t want to go up against the Ruhar with it.”

“We’re serving with Marines, sir?” I asked.

“A Marine brigade, yes. And, I hear, Brits, French, Chinese, maybe some Russians and Indian army also. You men checked in yet?”

“No, sir, I just got off the bus from the airport.” I said. I could still feel the steel slats of the bus seat on my butt. We had come from the airport, and climbed the rough, newly-cut road, in a convoy of garishly-painted old schoolbuses that were probably the finest transportation this part of Ecuador had to offer, before the Ruhar attacked.

“Uh-uh.” Jesse shook his head. “I’ve been here since this morning, and as soon as I got off the bus, the Marines had me moving food pallets.”

“Better get checked in, then, you need a medical eval before you take the magic carpet ride up into space. You see that big circus tent over there, the one with the UN flags?” He wasn’t joking, it really was a circus tent. “Get over there on the double, the elevator’s leaving at 1700 hours.”

The tent was a madhouse. Jesse and I weren’t looking forward to getting poked and prodded by Army doctors, we needn’t have worried. The medical exam consisted of standing fully clothed in a booth the size of a shower, and having a light beam run down, up, down and up again. When I stepped out, the doctor didn’t look up from his computer. “You’ll live, Bishop.” I could see a file with my picture on the computer screen, the doctor clicked a few buttons, and the file was replaced by some other guy’s. “Next!”

“Excuse me, sir, is that it?” I asked, confused.

“That’s it. You just got your first exam with a Kristang medical scanner, and it says you’re healthy enough. Move along, people, we haven’t got all day. Next!”

After the medical exam, we got showers, with honest to God hot water, although we weren’t issued new uniforms so we put our old clothes back on, and then went to another tent for a hot meal, Army style. As far as I was concerned, Army-style was a good thing, it meant I got plenty of food. I went through the line, and was standing with my tray in hand, looking for a place to sit, when Jesse stood up and waved me over to his table. "This here's Gus, 1st Armored," Jesse said through a mouthful of cornbread, pointing to a guy sitting next to him.

“I thought only infantry was going on this trip?” I asked.