Shadows of War by Larry Bond Page B

exactly the sort of reputation no cadet wanted. He survived that first semester, but just barely.
    Every time his path crossed with Christian’s following that, whether it was in sports, academics, or social life, inevitably Zeus came off on the losing side.
    It would be really nice to clock the SOB today.

    â€œWhat are you doing?” asked Rosen.
    â€œThere’s got to be a solution.”
    â€œThat’s what Perry’s been telling his people for the past week and a half, and we still cleaned his clock. Perry has tried everything.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œIf there was a solution, Doner would have told it to Perry by now.”
    â€œMaybe he doesn’t know it.”
    â€œOh, he knows it. He knows everything.”
    Zeus pulled up the statistics panel, checking to see the average length of hostility—the amount of time Blue usually hung in before the game was lost by the computer. It was only three months.
    Three months.
    China would defeat America in an Asian war in three months.
    Without nuclear weapons.
    If it were World War II, America would be out of the war by March 1942. No reinforcements for the Soviets, no invasion of Africa, Italy, and then Normandy. No atom bomb on Hiroshima or Nagasaki—Hitler would have gotten the bomb and used it on London after taking Moscow and confining the tattered remains of the Russian army to eastern Siberia.
    Maybe he wouldn’t bother using the bomb; he could just starve them out, assuming the U.S. abided by whatever terms the peace treaty with Japan provided. And if the U.S. didn’t, then he’d use it on New York and Washington, D.C., instead. Before turning it on the Japanese.
    Correlating simulations to real life was a dangerous and fruitless exercise; the simulations were set up to test different theories and situations. Even if they were supposedly neutral, there was no way to accurately account for all of the variables in real life. Once the shooting started and the fog of war descended, even the best plans usually went out the window.
    Still, if real life was even remotely this hopeless, America ought to sue for peace right now.
    What would he do if this were real?
    Try to get Red to attack the Russians.
    â€œYou coming to lunch?” said Rosen.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œI just asked you twice: Do you want to go get lunch? ”
    â€œWhat we need is a proxy,” said Murphy. He jumped up and walked over to the table. “Someone weak at the beginning of the simulation whom we can build up secretly.”
    â€œThen let Red use as a punching bag?”

    â€œSomething like that.”
    â€œLet’s eat.”
    â€œYou go. I have to look at the rules.”
    â€œHell, you’re going to read the rules? I thought you wanted to win.”

9
    Northwestern Vietnam, near the border with China
    Finally, there was nothing left for Josh’s stomach to give up. He rose shakily, furling his fists under his arms.
    There were no illusions left for his mind to fool itself with, either. Optimism was absurd. Survival itself might even be out of the question.
    Blundering into the village was a mistake, a stupid mistake. Whoever did this could have been waiting. Why did I do it? Do I want to die?
    Hell no. I won’t. I won’t.
    So do something right. Find a weapon. Find a way out.
    If he was going to survive, if he was going to make it through this, he had to act like a scientist. He had to be detached, unemotional, take each step carefully.
    Josh alternately scolded and encouraged himself as he searched through the hamlet for things he could use. He told himself to act like a survivor, and a scientist. He went back to each hut, forcing himself to look more thoroughly inside. He didn’t find any more bodies, but he saw more evidence of shootings—blood clotted on the dirt floors, bullet holes. Things he’d missed or ignored earlier—like the broken furniture—were obvious to him now, and told a