Balance of Terror (37 page)

“His efforts are turning him into a danger to himself as well as the entire Ground Forces deployment in this territory.” Koul was beginning to lose his temper, his voice rising and his jaw working even when he wasn’t saying anything. “If you don’t do anything about it….”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Koul?”

There was a moment of charged silence, before he pulled himself together with obvious effort. “He is a threat to the war effort,” he concluded in a sullen voice. “If everybody else starts thinking like him, the entire territory will fall apart.”

Koul’s way of looking at a situation was simple. If there was a risk to the campaign, the best way forward was to eliminate that risk and, as he saw it, Vanqill and his foolhardy tactics were the biggest risk to the Nineteen. Unfortunately, Cheloi was privy to certain information regarding the state of Perlim military resources, and the message from Central Control was clear. We are running out of bodies. Preserve the soldiers.

“We are an all-volunteer army,” she cut in, her expression kind, mostly because she knew it annoyed the hell out of him. “That means we conserve forces as much as possible. I agree that Sub-Colonel Vanqill is inexperienced, but he is also energetic. Furthermore, I will not allow an entire sector to be massacred just because you itch to teach a puppy some lessons.” She paused. “Of course, if you disagree with my assessment of the situation….”

This was not the first time Koul had challenged her and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Every time he did it, it was up to her to slap him down. If he was a pet relehn dog, she would have had him shot by now for his pig-headedness.

Koul grimaced and looked away. “Yes, yes, I understand.” His hands, splayed on the table’s matte surface, pressed down so heavily Cheloi thought they would leave impressions on the metal. “You are in charge of this territory and I bow to the wisdom of Central Control.”

“Very good.” She nodded and allowed herself to relax, leaning back in her chair. “Now, do you have any ideas on how to handle Wakor?”

A veteran and the commander of Black sector, Senel Wakor also disliked the impetuous Vanqill for a number of reasons, including the fact that Vanqill was little more than half Wakor’s years and already a Sub-Colonel. The young commander also had a string of successes under his belt that seemed to defy the accepted and venerated tactics that Wakor had learnt at officer school and an arrogant energy that rubbed most of the senior officers the wrong way. Wakor’s dislike, more than apparent at the briefing table, was compounded by the constant redeployment of his own sector troops to help the younger man.

“Stop Senel from slitting Vanqill’s throat, you mean?”

All three officers grinned in a rare moment of camaraderie and Cheloi felt the last of the tension bleed from the room.

Koul’s voice softened. “Let me think of something. There’s a reported rebel ammunition dump just beyond Black sector’s current sphere of operations. I think I can arrange a distraction for him.”

“Thank you, Koul.”

She made to stand up, thinking to pay a visit to the Tactical Room next, when Koul said something else.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Cheloi stilled before straightening. “Oh?”

“You lost your aide more than a month ago. Well, I have his replacement. Come, I’ll introduce you.”

Rumis shrugged behind Koul’s back, indicating he had no idea of what was coming. Whatever it was, Koul had kept things very quiet. Cheloi trained her face to impassivity.

“That’s very, considerate of you. Lead on.”

They left the briefing room in silence.

Cheloi heard sounds of industry from the kitchens as they entered the subterranean canteen. It was past mid-morning and preparations were already under way for lunch. For now, all the tables were unattended, the chairs unfilled, except for one.

A frown started gathering on Cheloi’s brow as the three of them approached the canteen’s lone customer, zigzagging through the rows of tables and hastily pushed back chairs. She felt a wave of impending doom lapping at her feet, surging higher the closer they got to the lone, occupied chair.

Had Koul somehow guessed…?

But how would he know? She kept that part of herself bottled up tight, vacuum-sealed against the world.

When they reached the inhabitant, in a rare moment of courtesy, Koul smiled and gestured with his hand. The stranger stood up. Correction, the
woman
stood up and turned around.

She was as tall as Cheloi with dark blonde hair, olive skin and hazel eyes. Unlike the Colonel, who sported a shorter more military cut, her longer hair was pulled back and pinned in a sleek bun, exposing streaks of pale gold. Cheloi imagined those golden streaks gleaming in the sunlight, as warm as the colour in her eyes, then quickly quelled the thought. What the hell was she thinking? Golden streaks? Warmth? What was wrong with her?

It was only the expression in those eyes that settled her again. She saw wariness, mixed with a degree of apprehension. That calmed her. Dislike, cynicism, anxiety, all these she could deal with, was comfortable with, although it made her wonder exactly what Koul had told her.

She knew what Koul thought of her in his private moments, because there were no truly private moments in the military, only relative ones. If Koul thought he was getting intelligence on Cheloi from intermediaries who were willing to talk, then it would be best for him to remember that it cut both ways.

Spraen.
Cheloi’s lips twitched momentarily. Koul might think it an insult, but she enjoyed the comparison to one of the ravening scavengers of Perlim myth.

Coming to pick at your bones, eh Koul?

“Senior Colonel, may I present Senior Lieutenant Lith Yinalña.”

Cheloi clicked back to the present.

“Yinalña.” She rolled the name over her tongue, stressing the second syllable. It didn’t sound very Perlim-like.

The lieutenant, her soft military cap clutched in one hand, saluted smartly. Cheloi returned the salute and offered a handshake which, after a moment’s hesitation, was taken. Yinalña’s hands were warm but rough, indicating that the junior officer often dabbled in manual tasks. There was a sense of strength and capability in the short greeting, two traits that Cheloi usually admired.

Usually. She wasn’t liking any of this. She darted a quick glance at Koul but his expression was open and innocent. Or at least as innocent as an expression got on that particular face. She introduced Rumis, and they began a desultory conversation, but her eyes were still on Lith Yinalña, moving up and down her body in quick strokes, taking in the curves of her breasts and the swell of hips that the jacket couldn’t hide. The lieutenant’s pulled-back hair emphasised her high cheekbones and full lips. They may have been of the same height, but Yinalña was younger and less androgynous than Cheloi. The Colonel felt something flutter again, deep in her stomach. Her hand was still warm from the brief handshake, but the rest of her felt frozen and icy with premonition.

She was going to be trouble. Cheloi could feel it in her bones, a feeling compounded by the fact that it was Koul who brought her here. That figure, that hair, those lively welcoming eyes. Cheloi felt like she was standing on the edge of a dark precipice on a summer’s day, a glowing sun eclipsing disaster.

“Where did you find Lieutenant Yinalña?” Cheloi asked her second-in-command, making her voice casual.

“Quite by accident, while on a tour of Blue sector.”

So, last week. If I can believe him.

“If you recall, you sent me there to carry out an evaluation of the situation.”

Yes. It was not a happy time for the Empire. An entire company had been lured into a rebel ambush and killed almost to the last soldier. Koul had recommended withdrawing the company’s remnant to facilitate a regroup and injection of fresh soldiers. Cheloi agreed.

“Yinalña’s commander died during the retreat.”

“I see.”

“But the company’s Sergeant Major commended her diligence and engineering dexterity to me and I thought you would find that useful.”

It was only a slim straw but Cheloi grabbed it. It was nothing she wanted to articulate, but she had to get rid of her new staff officer as quickly as possible. “Won’t she be missed? After all, it’s the engineers that keep the wheels of the Empire turning.”

“She’s only had informal training.”

“So she’s not a formal member of the Engineers then?”

“No.”

Cheloi tried not to let the disappointment show. “No safer posts available?”

No, that question came out too quickly. She knew she shouldn’t be pushing matters so hard and so soon. Even now, she saw a trace of speculation in Koul’s pale eyes and cursed herself for handling the conversation so ineptly. If she’d been thinking, she would have accepted the driver with an offhand negligence then quietly ordered Rumis to find some way of getting rid of her. But something about Lith Yinalña unbalanced her in a way that more than three years of combat in a war zone hadn’t.

Koul’s words were slow and deliberate, clear signs that there was much more going on in his head than he was willing to admit.

“She volunteered for a posting at the front. I thought it a natural solution to the problem. Was I incorrect in my assumption?”

Koul tried to look puzzled but Cheloi saw behind his gaze to the underlying cold calculation. She knew she was going to have to concede the point.

“As always, Koul, you anticipate my wishes,” Cheloi smiled tightly and raised her voice to encompass the other two. “Perhaps Major Swonnessy can show the Senior Lieutenant to her quarters. We can set up a quick briefing for later this afternoon. Rumis, see to it.”

“Immediately, Colonel.”

Rumis Swonnessy smiled broadly at the lieutenant as he reached for her soft-pack, shrugging the bag’s thick strap lightly onto his shoulder. “Follow me.”

The speculative gazes from two pairs of eyes followed the figures as they wound their way out of the canteen.

Lith looked around her with unabashed curiosity. All the military facilities she’d been assigned to had so far been on the planet’s surface. This was the first time she’d been given an underground post.

“A bit different, isn’t it?”

She looked over at the man who accompanied her and nodded agreement. He was Major Rumis Swonnessy, Senior Colonel Sie’s adjutant. She hadn’t expected such a handsome face to match the reputation he had already built up. And she hadn’t expected such a pleasant personality either.

“The Nineteen, as you already know, is a long and thin territory, and all the transport routes travel quite close to our encampments. Central Control thought that siting our headquarters aboveground would make it easier for rebels to target us, so we were ordered to construct it underground instead.”

“It’s, er, very impressive.”

Actually, the word Lith was thinking of was more along the lines of oppressive, but she couldn’t say that to someone who was showing her around with such obvious pride. The canteen they had just walked from was near an exit, but Swonnessy pointed out corridors that led to other exits aboveground. Lith feverishly memorised their positions, afraid of an imminent attack of claustrophobia.

They passed through the administrative block, where the Tactical and Information Rooms were located, and she was shown where the Communications Room was situated, near the end of a long tunnel. Above her head, square panels of light, evenly spaced, illuminated the regular scraping texture of the walls and the grainy texture of the floors. Small crunches indicated footsteps of soldiers as they passed the pair, intent on their own tasks. It was like being in the belly of some infernal beast or trapped in a military-run underworld. Lith shivered, her guilty conscience prodded by the fact that she was actually where she had originally planned to end up. Her feet slowed as she fought the instinct to grab the bag off Swonnessy’s shoulder and flee. She fought to take in a full lungful of air. Was there a problem with the ventilation systems or was it her own fear, constricting her lungs and making it difficult to breathe?

Oblivious, Swonnessy happily chatted on, pointing out other major points of interest. They passed to the accommodation block.