Cadmians Choice (6 page)

Now, in less than two
weeks, Third Battalion would be headed south, to deal with another rebellion of
sorts.

Just what was
happening ... and why?

An alector who speaks
of choices has no place in the governing of a world, for the very word implies
an equality between alternatives, and such choice is an illusion. Thus, the
alector either deceives himself or others. If he deceives himself, he will
administer badly. If he deceives others, his deception will eventually be
discovered, and the anger created by such deception will undo any benefits that
may have momentarily accrued.

While each
alternative facing an alector may have differing advantages and disadvantages,
alternatives are never equal. The task of any high alector is to determine the
best of alternatives in light of the desired objective and then implement his
decision in the manner most efficacious for its accomplishment.

Those who prattle
about choices either lack understanding of the matter before them or seek to
deceive others into believing that a true choice between equal alternatives
exists. The only choice is between a good alternative and one not so good. An
alector who cannot differentiate between such and make such a determination
based upon what is and what will be has failed to learn enough to understand
the situation before him. If one must decide between dissimilar alternatives,
the overall effectiveness of each must be determined, as well as the costs, the
timing, and the lifeforce expenditure gained and that required.

In the case of
similar alternatives, the same process must obtain. No two pearapples are
equal, nor are any two oaks, nor any two steers, nor any two alectors. Nor are any
two alternatives. Each alternative has ramifications and outcomes, and those
must be studied and determined, in light of what best serves the Archon and the
future of all alectors.

Views of the Highest

Illustra

W.T. 1513

Undercaptain Veluara knocked
on the door to the senior officers’ quarters precisely half a glass after
Alcyna had departed. As he rose from the chair, Dainyl supposed that there was
some significance to the timing, and that he might find it in due course. Then
again, given Alcyna’s reputation, he might not. He just intended to discover
what he could about what was happening in Alustre and the east, then return to
Elcien, and report what he had discovered to the marshal. He had few doubts
that discovering would be easier than returning, since Alcyna was the type who
would want him to know how clever she was before arranging some fatal accident
or incident.

Just before he opened
the door, he paused. Alcyna might be far smarter than that, but, however she
handled it, he doubted that he would have to worry as much on the first day or
so. Too early an “accident” would have the marshal and High Alector Zelyert
both after her.

Undercaptain Veluara
stood tall, nearly as large and as muscular as Dainyl. She wore a flight jacket
over her uniform, unfastened, and her eyes were a blackish brown, a color
unusual for an alector. She also seemed to be older than the usual
undercaptain, although that was not something Dainyl intended to ask or
suggest. “Submarshal, sir? Submarshal Alcyna asked me to be your escort for an
informal tour.”

Dainyl nodded,
stepping out onto the balcony and closing the quarters door behind him. “It’s
kind of you, and I appreciate it.”

“Where would you like
to begin, sir?”

“With a tour of
headquarters here. I am certain everything is in order and as it should be, and
I would like to report that to the marshal. I leave the order of inspection to
you, Undercaptain.”

“I would suggest we
begin with the outbuildings, sir. Perhaps the pteridon squares?”

“That would be fine.”

Dainyl followed the
tall undercaptain down the steps and south across the courtyard of the
headquarters compound. Despite her size, her movements were practiced and
graceful.

The pteridon squares
were identical to those in Elcien, each thirty yards on a side with a massive
perch across the roof. The perch was oriented to face the rising sun. Even with
only twenty-one pteridons in a company, the space required for each company was
considerable.

As he walked down the
open area that split the squares of the two companies, past the duty square,
Dainyl glanced at the nearest pteridons, those of Fourth Company, presumably
third squad, taking in the afternoon sunlight. Their blue crystal eyes held a
darkness mat had no color, and their long blue crystalline beaks were hard
enough to shatter iron. Each blue leathery wing, even folded back against a
pteridon’s body, was more than ten yards long. The comparatively short legs
ended in three crystal claws—two opposed by one, so that a pteridon could perch
anywhere or grasp whatever it wanted, given that the claws were as hard as the
beak.

“You’re a squad
leader in Fourth Company. Third squad, as I recall.”

“Yes, sir.” There was
the faintest tone of surprise in her voice, as well as hidden amusement.

“How have you liked
serving under Captain Josaryk? You were in Third Company before, weren’t you?”

“Captain Josaryk and
Majer Noryan are good officers, sir.”

“Were you on any of
the patrols where the pteridons were lost this past winter?”

Undercaptain Veluara
did not reply for the briefest of moments. “That depends on what you mean, sir.
We did some of the overflight patrols, but three of the four losses in the west
were from Third Company after I left.”

“I don’t suppose you
saw what happened?”

“No, sir.”

About that, the undercaptain
was telling the truth.

“Have you ever seen
one of the ancient ones?”

“Sir? Has anyone?
Have you?”

“Since they once
inhabited the higher and colder areas, and there are more of those here in the
east,” replied Dainyl, not answering her question in a fashion similar to the
way she had avoided his, “I had thought it might be more likely that you or
others in Third and Fourth Company might have seen them.”

“I know Major Noryan
did, but he said he wasn’t able to talk about it. He sent a sealed dispatch to
Lyterna, though.”

Dainyl did not
comment, although he had never seen the report.

At the end of the
pteridon squares, the undercaptain turned west. “The armory is on the lower
level in the corner here.”

“About the ancients,”
Dainyl prompted.

“Only from a
distance, just once, west of Scien, when we were looking for the missing
Cadmian company. That was when third squad was relieving second squad. It was
just a green globe of light. I could barely make it out, and then it was gone.”

From what he could
tell through his Talent, Dainyl was fairly certain that she was telling what
she had seen— mostly. “The old reports say that they could hover. Could you
tell?”

“It looked that way.”

“Has anyone found any
sign of the Cadmians yet?”

“No, sir. Major
Noryan thinks they were caught in a sudden early blizzard. Those can get fierce
that far north. If that’s what happened, we might find them when all the ice
melts. The North Road won’t be clear until early summer this year.”

“Even though it’s
eternastone?”

“Yes, sir. That’s one
reason why the submarshal decided to close the posts at Scien. The town is
mostly deserted anyway, except for the fishing crews in the summer, and a
handful of indigens who like ice and cold.”

“What about Pystra?”

“It’s not much
better, but it’s east of the Frozen Headland, and the harbor’s clear of ice
most winters.”

“Besides the problem
in Coren, have you had much trouble with indigen intransigence?”

“There’s always
someone who tries to get around the Code, thinking that he can get a few more
golds, but we do a lot of overflights, looking for patterns that would show
lifeform abuse or misuse.” She paused. “What really happened in Dramur? I don’t
mean to pry, sir, but the reports we got seemed so strange.”

In short, Alcyna
wanted to see what Dainyl would reveal to an attractive and attentive
undercaptain. “What happened there wasn’t lifeform abuse, or anything else that
could be seen from the air. Some of the local landowners spent years amassing
enough golds to bribe an engineer in the rifle manufactory. They were trying to
take control of Dramur while still appearing to follow all the provisions of
the Code.” That was truthful enough, so far as it went. “Dramur is far enough
away from any Myrmidon post that what they were doing went undetected for a
time. The marshal discovered some aspects of the plan and sent for me. It took
two seasons to resolve, and it won’t happen again.”

Veluara nodded. “You
want to see the armory?”

“Every bit of it.”
Dainyl laughed. “Otherwise, how could I explain to the marshal?”

His words got the
faintest smile from the undercaptain.

“You have not been in
Alustre in recent years, have you?” asked Veluara.

“No. Not since I was
a captain,” replied Dainyl. “At that time, Submarshal Alcyna was a senior
majer.”

“You both have come
far since then.”

“It has been a while.”
Dainyl wasn’t about to get into a discussion of how either he or Alcyna became
submarshals, not with an undercaptain, and especially not with one as sharp and
experienced as Veluara. He realized that he had best be more careful with his
comments. “How did you choose the Myrmidons?”

“What other choice
was there? I wasn’t that interested in engineering, and I like being outside.
What about you, sir?”

“After the armory,”
Dainyl said with a laugh.

“Yes, sir.” Veluara
smiled openly, leading the way toward the wide archway. The left door of the
double doors was ajar. “Technical Squad Leader Vresnyl is in charge of the
armory,” she added in a low voice before she pulled the door open.

Inside was a small
stone walled and floored foyer, with a stone counter, waist-high, in the middle
of the rear wall. By the time they reached the counter, a broad-shouldered and
short alector stood at the counter, waiting. Behind him was a small chamber
with little besides a row of tall cabinets against the wall, all closed.

“Tech Leader Vresnyl,
Submarshal, sir.”

“I’m pleased to see
you, Vresnyl. Weren’t you in Lysia before?”

“Yes, sir.” The
armorer smiled. “Been here just over a year.”

“How are you finding
Alustre?”

“It’s cooler, and that’s
better in the summer, and worse in the winter. Armory’s a little bigger.
Otherwise there’s not that much different.”

“Have you had any
problems with skylances?” Dainyl asked.

“Like they did in
Dereka, sir? No, sir. Every single one’s accounted for. With proper
maintenance, they’ll last almost forever. We follow the rotation schedule and
send them to Lyterna for inspection every three years. We’ve never had one
fail, though. Haven’t lost any, either.”

“What about sidearms?”
Dainyl smiled broadly as he asked, since he doubted there were more than five
anywhere in the east, reserved as they were for nonflying senior officers.

“You need one, sir?
If it’s not working right, that’d be the first one in more than a century.”

“No.” Dainyl grinned.
“I had to ask, though.” He paused. “Would you show me through the workroom and
repair spaces?”

“Yes, sir. I’d be
pleased to.” Vresnyl gestured to the cabinets. “Those hold the training lances,
and not much else.” He turned and moved toward the door on the south end of the
small chamber.

Dainyl made his way
around the counter and followed, with Veluara behind him.

Vresnyl stopped just
inside the next small room. “Here’s the crystal testing equipment for the
skylances and the sidearms, and the collector that puts a basic charge in a
replacement crystal. Only had to do that once or twice this past year.
Sometimes happens when they’ve been flying in winter weather, high clouds and
not much sun.”

“Where do you keep
the replacement crystals?” Dainyl knew where they were supposed to be.

“Those ... there aren’t
that many, you know, sir. Those are kept in the usual place, in the vault and
lockbox in the watch pteridon’s square. After the business in Dereka, the
submarshal moved all the skylances there as well. Had another pair of lockers
built, one for each company. That’s when the flyers are here. On deployment,
the lances stay with the pteridons, like always.”

Dainyl nodded and
turned to Veluara. “Are they doing that for the companies in Dulka and Lysia?”

“That’s what I
understood, sir.”

The precaution made
sense, but it also concentrated the control of the fearsome weapons, and that
left Dainyl uneasy, even though they were supposedly useless except when used
in conjunction with a pteridon. He looked to the armorer. “Let’s see what else
you have.”

“Yes, sir.”

After that came the
storeroom for gear—pteridon saddles, skylance holders, special winter flying
parkas, all items that wore out more quickly than pteridons and skylances.
Below the main storeroom was the storeroom for specialized equipment used less
frequently, such as emergency crystal beacons, or the crimson armbands worn by
Myrmidons for the administration of justice, the lash and mace of justice,
special solutions, and the cross-form to which malefactors were fastened.

After he closed the
lower storeroom, Vresnyl turned to Dainyl. “That’s what we have for the
Myrmidon equipment, sir.”

“How much blasting
powder and other explosives do you have down below for the High Alector of
Transport?”

“Well... sir, not so
much as they’ve got in Dereka or the west. There’s not so much of a call for it
here. It’s on the lowest level.”