"I am not short on ideas, Viktor. I am short of laser cannon and artillery. We can assume Zhiguli with all our artillery and supplies did not make it through, and will not now, since they have obviously reinforced the bore holes enough to find our transponders. We can assume our operative has been captured and the Russian science team is ineffective, either by choice or because they are in stockade. And we can also assume that our heavy-lifter pilots and crew do not relish staying outside for weeks while we get ourselves killed in here."

"What are you saying, Pavel? Be blunt." Garabedian smiled. With his undershot jaw, he had always reminded Mirsky of a sturgeon.

"We are not getting the support we need."

"Do you believe the war has been fought on Earth—and lost?"

Mirsky shook his head. "I believe we have taken out their orbital capability. That would make quite a show from up here—"

"Pavel, they surely can tell the difference between an orbital showdown and holocaust."

Mirsky clamped his jaw and shook his head stubbornly. "We are here to fight and take an objective. There must be a reason."

"Ask the Zampolits. We are here to spread Socialism and safeguard the future of our State and our country."

"Shit," Mirsky said, surprised at his vehemence. He hated the Zampolits. He had always hated all Zampolits wherever he had served. As usual, the company's political officer—Major Belozersky—was in the rear, issuing orders that sometimes conflicted with Mirsky's own. "Yes, fine, they've cooked the Earth. So what are we to do, abandon the fight and—what? Go home to ashes? This time, it would not be a little exercise in the schoolyard between hero and bully. It would be a flaming rubber-stamp skull and crossbones across the northern hemisphere!"

"That's what they're saying has happened. Pletnev backs them up. Surely we couldn't expect to take out their orbital defenses and have them kick their heels in the air and scream for mercy."

"They are corrupt," Mirsky said. "Weak and fearful."

"Pavel, I do not like playing your Armenian voice of reality. You, of all people, should face facts and their implications. Do not underestimate the enemy. Do weak and decadent people march ahead of you in almost every sphere?"

"Oh, shut up and let me babble," Mirsky said, cradling his head between his hands. He glanced up at the sergeant. "Get out of here," he said wearily. "Bring me good news or none at all."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant said.

"Pity we don't have any penal battalions to send on ahead to glorious sacrifice," Garabedian said. "That's how we've won wars in the past."

"Don't let Belozersky hear you say that. I have enough trouble with him—and with you—as is. We keep the bridge intact," Mirsky said. "That's final. And we make our move in the next hour."