A military man.
I should have guessed, said Sutton to himself. But I was thinking in the present…not the past or future. And there are no military men, as such, in the world today. Although there were military men before my time and apparently there will be military men in ages yet to come.
He said to Case, "War in four dimensions must be slightly complicated."
And he didn't say it because he was interested at the moment in war, whether in three or four dimensions, but because he felt that it was his turn to talk, his turn to keep this Mad Hare tea chatter at its proper pace.
For that was what it was, he told himself…an utterly illogical situation, a madcap, slightly psychopathic interlude that might have its purpose, but a hidden, tangled purpose.
"The time has come" the Walrus said, "To talk of many things, Of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax — Of cabbages — and kings—"
Case smiled when he spoke to him, a tight, hard, clipped, military smile.
"Primarily," Case said, "it is a matter of charts and graphs and very special knowledge and some superguessing. You figure out where the enemy may be and what he may be thinking and you get there first."
Sutton shrugged. "Basically that always was the principle," he said. "You get there fustest…"
"Ah," said Pringle, "but there are now so many more places where the enemy may go."