A couple of hours later Gandhi reported to him in his office. Samuel stood by the map. "I am going to use your troops," he began, "to patrol the city. That's where I think they'll be most beneficial. After we get settled in a bit, some of the older ones may go out on rural patrols. But I want them to get accustomed to the country first, get to know the people.
Warlock West will brief you on what we're up against out there in the bush. Damon Rice will give you the low down on the city. He's come to know it better than the natives. Those new vehicles will mean we can cover a lot more territory.
I don't want to throw too much at you at once. Let's take the time for everybody to settle in, get to know each other, then we'll get down to some serious business!"
Samuel noticed Gandhi kept staring at him. "Is there something the matter?" he asked.
"No, sir," she remarked, "it's just...well..your wives, sir. I met them when I dropped off my belongings. Isn't there such a thing sir, as going a little TOO native?"
Samuel laughed. "That situation," he answered, "takes a bit of explaining. I will let each of them tell why they're in my house, and you can tell us something about yourself over supper."
"The question of quarters, sir," Gandhi put in, "I'd really rather be in the barracks."
"And I would rather have you close at hand," Samuel answered, "so if there's an emergency at night the clerk doesn't have to run all over the base to gather all key personnel. We will not be home together that much, anyway. I assure you, WARLOCK, I have no intention of requesting that YOU be my consort. So let's end this difficulty quickly, shall we?"
The Warlock straightened. "Sorry, sir," she snapped, "I was only thinking of appearances. Some of my ladies made comments already when I was checking on them in the barracks."
"Inform them," Samuel snapped, "that in future such comments will not be advisable. We are professionals here. I expect everyone to act as professionals."
"Yes sir!" the Warlock managed.
"Now," Samuel continued, "go see to the storage of your equipment. Make sure everything is in order. I'll see you at supper."
Gandhi came to attention, saluted, and quickly departed. Samuel went to his desk, sat back and grinned. He had a feeling he was going to like Gandhi once they got settled in.
He finished his afternoon's work, went home and relaxed with some music and some reading. Joy was getting quite proficient with a native instrument that looked like a cross between a squash and a flute and sat playing for her father until it was time for the news broadcast.
"This in from The United States," the broadcaster put in. "The long struggle between The Spiritist Church and ABC has finally come to an end. This morning executives of ABC announced they were selling out to The Spiritist Broadcasting System, and their affiliates were all changing over to that system. The old network will cease to exist. All of its properties will be turned over to the Spiritist Network. Their spokesman stated that they could simply no longer carry on the struggle for individual rights. They had done their best, but the American people had deserted them in favor of a new way that will not tolerate people with different opinions.
The Spiritist Church announced they were grateful this unfortunate struggle was finally concluded."
"Took long enough!" Samuel sighed. His wife announced supper. Everybody piled in to the big diningroom. Gandhi appeared in a lovely Indian dress. "Is civillian attire appropriate?" she asked.
"We're off duty here," Samuel answered. "EVERYBODY can tell you their stories later. I'm sure ALL of us would like to hear how you came to be with us."
Gandhi shrugged. "It's a story thousands of Indian women can tell you," she began, "the lucky ones, anyway."

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