"Training a pilot, nonsense!" the marshal was shaking his baton at him again, in indignation. "A pilot won't do. He must also be a trained reconnaissance man. Must be able to follow terrain from the air. Identify military forces both in nature and number. I needn't tell you this, major. You above all know the problem."
It hadn't occurred to Joe, but the other was obviously right. There couldn't be more than a few dozen men in Category Military who could hold down both the job of pilot and reconnaissance officer. In another six months, the situation would have changed. Officers would quickly be trained. But now? As Cogswell said, he was caught short.
Joe came to his feet. "Sir, I'll have to consider the commission. Frankly, my plans were otherwise."
Cogswell started at him grimly. "Mauser, you've always been one of the best. An old pro, in every sense of the word. However, there have been some rumors going around about your ambitions."
Joe said stiffly, "Sir, my ambitions are my own business, whatever these rumors."
"Didn't say I believed them, major. We've been together too often when the situation has pickled for me to judge you without more evidence than gossip. What I was leading up to, is this. There's nothing wrong with ambition. If you see me through in this, I'll do what I can toward pushing your promotion."
Joe came to the salute again. "Thank you, sir. I'll consider the commission and let you know by tomorrow."
Cogswell flicked the baton, in his nonchalant answer to salute. "That will be all, then, major."
VII
Freddy Soligen wasn't at home when Joe Mauser called. The Category Military officer was met, instead, by young Sam Soligen, clothed this day in the robes of a novitiate of the Temple. Joe remembered now that Freddy had mentioned the boy in training in Category Religion.