Wholmes must have given him an enthusiastic recommendation, because they released him the next day into the charge of a stiff-legged old Bear named Yarborough.
"Machine-gun bullets, both legs", Yarborough said, easing his way down the corridor with a cane carved from Reaper femur.
Yarborough took him up to the Bear cafeteria and watched Valentine consume a vast meal of potato-heavy stew. "Tired. Very tired", Valentine said, wiping up the plate with a heel of warm bread. He was only half paying attention to Yarborough; his mind was on the layout of the elevator, in particular the bumper at gurney level.
"You'll get used to it". Yarborough winced as he rose. "A little exercise helps. Want to throw some pins around?"
"Maybe a walk outside".
Yarborough looked doubtful. "I was nervous as a colt my first time out of doors. You might panic and try to take down a truck".
"I've got it under..."
"Boo!" Yarborough ejaculated, lunging with both hands across the trays.
Valentine found himself six inches backward, heart thudding away, and nonplussed.
"Um ... grrrrr?" Valentine said back.
They both laughed. "I think Sir's slipping", Yarborough said. "Even a week after my Invocation, I would have been trying to open my head like an M-22 if I were you".
"Can I ask a question, Yarborough?"
"Fire away".
"What happens to the little kids?"
Yarborough's brow came down like a guillotine. "What do you mean?"
"I saw a truck full of little kids, too young for school, babies, pulling out after the last clearing operation. What happens to them?"
"They go to orphanages, poor souls. Some up to Canada, some out East or the other side of Rainier. You know Eagle, right? He came out of one of the orphanages, went in older than most even, ten, I think he said".
Valentine didn't know Eagle, but relaxed. He'd been worried they were used as Reaper bait. Or worse.
"How about that walk?" Sure.
The cafeteria was starting to fill up with the lunch crowd. Bears hurried to pile their trays with rice-flour bread and mulligan stew. Thunderbird and an adjutant came walking in as they approached the door.
"Valentine, a new man, I see", Thunderbird said.
"Tired as an old one", Valentine said. "But I'm going to try a walk aboveground, if that's okay".
Thunderbird clucked his tongue. "Sure. Be good for you. Stop by my office when you feel yourself again".
"How about tomorrow instead?" Valentine couldn't say whether he'd ever be himself again, after witnessing Pacific Command's Bears in action.
"Anytime. Door's always open, you'll remember".
Valentine took his walk on the flattened valley floor at the foot of the ridge. He tried balancing on one of the train rails that led to the big unloading station in the tunnellike terminal, though he'd never seen or heard a train come in. The breeze felt good on his face, but clouds screened the sun.
Yarborough watched him from the bench at the headquarters shuttle pickup.
Valentine took a short run about a third of the way up the hill, and
Yarborough opened a box marked with the network-phone squiggle. Puffing a little, Valentine reached the halfway mark on the ridge and hurried back down.
His bad leg twinged, but stayed steady on even the steep slope of the warren. He ran to the train-cave mouth, saw a big wire gate inside, and ran back again.