Infinite Day (7 page)

“Spoken like the very best of bodyguards, Sergeant.”

Lloyd checked his rearview mirror. “Thank you, sir, but . . .”

Merral was conscious of unease on his aide's face. “But what?”

“Sir, the handbook says that a bodyguard should never be reluctant to raise issues of security. Apparently, it was often a major failing. So . . . permission to speak, sir?”

“Lloyd, I owe you my life. Speak your mind.”

“Well, it's Azeras. I spent some time with him last week.” Lloyd screwed his big face up as if considering something hard. “I think I am concerned that we are—how shall I say it?—integrating him too closely with us.”

“You mean he isn't one of us?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He has made an alliance to work with us. But you're right; he's not become part of the Assembly. He's made no oaths of loyalty to the Lamb.”

Lloyd checked his rearview mirror again. “And, sir, he still has this loyalty to these True Freeborn. If they exist anymore.”

“I can't argue. But do you have any specific cause for concern?”

“Frankly, no. And I spent a lot of time with him down in the foundations. But he doesn't share everything. Well, only last night we realized exactly how little he has told us about what he got up to in his war. And, well, sir . . . the thing is, we are going back to his worlds. Here, he's played by Farholme rules.”

“And what you are saying is that out there, he may not.”

“Exactly, sir.”

Merral drummed his fingers on the window frame.
I don't need this—another concern
.

“Okay, Lloyd, you have my approval to keep an eye on him. And warn me and Vero of any concerns. Immediately.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Merral saw that they were at the outskirts of the city now. “And would I be correct in assuming that you also retain your major suspicions about Betafor?”

“Yes, sir. I don't think I need to say anything more about that thing. I've never trusted it, and it's given me no indication that I should start now. And when we get within hailing distance of the Dominion, I think we need to be very careful. It looks after itself, it does. I reckon there's a fair chance we will have to eject it out of an air lock.”

Oh, wonderful; an impossible mission with crew members I can't trust!

His aide continued. “In fact, sir . . . I think you should stay armed on the ship. In case—”

“Sergeant, are you serious?”

“We have a handful of small pistols built to an old template. Each has a ten-shot magazine with low-penetration bullets so you can fire in a spacecraft. Fits in a waistband, or even straps against the ankle. I'll get you one.”

“No, I refuse—”

“Sir, be better if you wore it. But it's your decision.”

“It is.” Then Merral paused. “And, Sergeant, when you do decide to eject Betafor out of an air lock, can you ask me first?”

Vero met with Ludovica shortly after her return to the airport, in a room that she had taken as her office.

“M-madam Chairman,” he began as he closed the door behind him.

“Ludovica will do,” she interrupted, extending a hand as she rose from a chair to greet him.

Taking it, Vero thought she looked strained.

As he took the only other chair, she stared at him. “So, Sentinel, what can I do for you?”

“F-first, I want to thank you for helping the committee come to its decision.”

“It's only conditional approval. And you didn't come here for that. I know enough of you to know that.” The tone was terse. “I'm afraid I don't have much time; I have to meet this Betafor and Azeras.”

Not a good start.

“V-very well. Ludovica, let me say I think we need to boost Merral's public profile.”

“Why?”

“F-Farholme needs a hero. All being well, we are leaving. Even if we do come back, we will be going straight on to Earth. You will, no doubt, have an acting head of the FDF, but I think you need more than that. I think the public needs a hero.”

A wary frown appeared. “But Merral is already well known.”

“The accounts of the battles at Tezekal and Ynysmant have not been fully given. Clemant's versions deliberately downplayed his role.”

“Indeed.” Vero felt her eyes stare through him.

“And let me guess—
they
are what this is all about?”

She's sharp.
“Yes. I am th-thinking further ahead. I'm w-worried about what Clemant and Delastro are going to say when they get to Earth.”

“That had crossed my mind.”

“I think they will present a version of events in which Merral's role is reduced. That could make our position very difficult if we get there. We will need to take incontrovertible imagery that he fought, and he won, and that he has the right to speak of what happened. To the whole Assembly.”

There was a slow nod. “So you want him . . . what? publicly affirmed?”

“Yes. And I have some ideas on how it can be done.”

Ludovica shook her head and ran fingers through her hair. “How terribly reminiscent this all is of early twenty-first-century politics.” Her voice bore a pained sadness. “Images. The creation of a persona. The cult of the personality. It borders on propaganda.”

“No! It will be done in the name of truth.”

A flicker of cynicism crossed the weary face. “Of course, Sentinel.” She sighed deeply. “Vero, when I took on this post, I resolved on a strategy of firmness. I also promised that I would be totally transparent. There were to be no more private deals. No special understandings.” She bore a sharp, almost antagonistic look. “And no more secret armies in cellars.”

Aah. Do I defend myself? No, there are more important matters to deal with.
“Excellent goals, Ludovica, but there is military necessity.”

“Yes, of course. ‘Military necessity.' I am unconvinced.”

Vero, momentarily defeated, hesitated before he spoke again. “L-Ludovica, there is something else.”

“Yes?”

“Let me say to you something that few people know, and fewer still understand. The Dominion is frightened of someone they call the great adversary, a legendary hero who will frustrate their plans. Lezaroth, at least, believes Merral is this figure. That's why he set the trap at Ynysmant.”

“Ah, so that's why he picked there.”

“Indeed. And, having been with Merral from the start, I believe . . . that it may be true. I think he is called by the Most High to be the warrior of our age. I think it is his destiny, and I think he has the gifting for it.”

A long silence elapsed before she spoke.

“And you feel I—we—need to affirm that?”

“Yes. I think it is right.”

“Maybe. How?”

“One, call a full-scale press conference here, where he can answer questions. Worldwide coverage. Two, if you can get one quickly, give him a medal. At the conference. Three, I also think it's a good idea to get what they used to call an official war artist. For portraits, posters, that sort of thing.”

An eyebrow rose. “My, you
have
thought this through, haven't you?”

She's on my side now
. “It's my job, madam. Oh, and then one more thing: persuade him to give a speech to the volunteers. Make sure it's broadcast worldwide too. He does a good speech. And put all this together in a file with a full and accurate record of the war on Farholme, so that, if we are able eventually to proceed to Earth, we can take it with us.”

There was a slow nodding of the head.

“I see. I can do that. But the press conference. How do we know he'll get the right questions?”

“Leave that to me, Ludovica.”

“‘Leave that to me'?” The eyes tightened. “Vero, you are very devious. It worries me.”

“It worries everyone.”
Me especially
.

Merral ignored the strange, deserted smell that pervaded the Kolbjorn Suite. He found a backpack and rummaged through his cupboards, throwing in the things he felt were necessary. Then he looked around and, in a moment of inspiration, opened the top drawer and pulled out the glass egg that was his castle tree simulation.
Over the next month or so, I will have some spare time. What better way of spending it than developing my simulation?
He put it in his pocket next to the cedar cone.
An artificial tree and the seeding body of a real tree. Together they will remind me of who I really am—Merral D'Avanos, Forester
. He smiled.
And, just maybe, they will point to who I will be again.

Then, locking the door behind him, Merral set off with Lloyd for the airport.

They entered the hangar by a back door and were greeted by a weary-looking Vero, who outlined what sounded to be satisfactory progress.

“Where is Ludovica?” Merral asked, staring at an apparently interminable number of requisition forms awaiting his signature.

Vero looked uneasy. “She's gone to talk to Azeras and Betafor. But Luke is here somewhere.”

“That's one piece of good news. Look, I shall be up in the office, and when you can separate Betafor from her admirers, can you send her up? We need to talk.”

“Will do. Merral, the pilot is here. Laura Bezemov. You'd better like her.”

“Why?”

“No other candidates have suitable experience.”

In other words, we are running out of pilots
. “I want to meet her. Send her up too.”

Twenty minutes later, as Merral was checking long lists with a team, he heard a familiar booming voice call out his name.

Making apologies, Merral made his way to the door where Luke Tenerelt stood. The thinness of the man's face seemed accentuated by a small, neat bandage on his right cheek.

They hugged each other, and leading Luke away to a quieter corner of the office, Merral began to apologize for not having seen him since the battle at Ynysmant.

The chaplain gave Merral a dismissive pat on the back. “Oh, I gather you did what you had to do. Anyway, I was busy.” His face clouded with sorrow. “Aah, there were a lot of needy folk there that night.”

“Yes. . . .” Silence hung between them. “What did you do to your cheek?”

“Oh, that? I rather stupidly got too close to a Krallen. I thought it was dead. It was, pretty soon afterward. But it could've been worse. In fact, I quite like it. It is going to make a slight but striking scar.”

“I'd never have thought of you as the sort of person to seek trophies!”

Merral saw a gentle look of reproof. “It's not that, Merral. It allows me to look the men in the eye. I am now one of them.”

That's Luke for you.
Merral realized that the chaplain had a backpack at his feet. “You can come?”

“I would count it an honor, Merral.”

“Thank you. You know what happened with Lezaroth and the hostages?”

“I heard. So we are going after them?”