In-Body by Vincent H. O’Neil “You’re not supposed to be doing this, Colonel.” Dentzler kept his eyes on the low table and pretended he hadn’t heard. “You said her In-Body chip was damaged?” “When the grenade went off.” Ensign Teel pointed at a spot under the olive-colored draping that covered the broken form on the table. “One piece of shrapnel, penetrating front to back, managed to nick it." Dentzler swept the shroud away to reveal a small collection of bare human bones. His large hands gripped the low wall at the table’s edge, and it was a long moment before he spoke. “Well, she was right.” “About what, sir?” “The Hoops. They don’t den in the forest. Every piece of data said they did, but she tracked them out into the grassland.” “She was stubborn that way.” “The good scouts always are.” The colonel replaced the sheet. “So her In-Body recording is intact?” “Sir, it is against Force regulations for you—for anybody—to experience In-Body of more than one fatality in a single mission year. And you’ve been doing every one of them.” “Your objection is noted, Ensign. Thank you. Now is the recording finally ready?” “It’s been ready for hours, sir.” Defiant eyes locked with his own, and squared shoulders dared him to rebuke her. “The electronics on two of her ‘bot dogs transmitted the whole thing before the Hoop snakes destroyed them.” Dentzler’s lined face broke into a tight-lipped grin, and he regarded Teel with affection. “Lying to your boss again, Ensign?” “You’re going to get into big trouble doing this, sir.” She let her features go blank. “And then I’ll have to train a new boss. Hopefully one who’ll listen to good advice.” “I have to do this, Veronica.” Dentzler’s eyes were on the table again. “I train them. I send them down there. I owe them this when they don’t make it back.”