Officers' Selection Course was, I knew, Fighter Basic Course multiplied in length and casualties. Less than 20 per cent graduate ... or escape.
"No, Sir," I said. "I wondered if I mightn't be of more value to Haldoria in some way other than being in the combat services." So now I'd said it and there was nothing to do but to go on. "Perhaps," I ventured, "I might be of some help in the administrative services."
The Accountant said nothing, his face was immobile, his hands still. He'd learned his lessons well, once.
"In fact," I said, deciding to go for broke, "with my knowledge of the language and the customs here, I might be of most service to Haldoria right here on this planet."
"Had you guessed, by any chance, Trontar," the Accountant's voice was neutrally soft, "that we won't be terraforming this world? And that we may not even exploit the slavery proposition?"
"I thought both those possibilities likely," I admitted.
"But you know that in such a case we would have no administrative services on this world? Thus you are, in fact, asking for a position that wouldn't exist." The Accountant, without a change of position or expression, somehow gave the impression of looming over me.
"I thought," I said, trying to pick exactly the right words, and at the same time all too conscious of a twitching muscle in my left eyelid, "that there might be an analogous position, even so."
The Accountant loomed higher.