Soldier at the Door (44 page)

Mahrree took his arm. “Perrin thought what, Shem?”

He shuddered. “Do you have
any idea
how frightening he can be, Mahrree?”

She smiled in sympathy. She knew more than anyone. “A bit, yes. He’s been rather bear-like for the past few weeks. The children and I have been staying well out of his way.”

“Someone told him someone in Edge was behind the attacks,” Shem blurted. “And the first person he questioned was me!”

Mahrree’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No! How dare he?! Why, why,
you
of all people? You . . . you’re here all the time! You take care of our children! You even come for dinner and sit with us at the congregational meetings! You’re our favorite soldier—”

She stopped, but kept her hand on his arm.

“Which, if you
were
a spy,
would
give you remarkable access and knowledge about our family.” She looked at the floor, lost in thought. “Hmm.”

Shem made a choking noise in his throat. “But I’m not one of
them!
Please, Mahrree!”

She snapped out of her thoughts. “Oh, Shem—of course you aren’t! I just can see how someone might
think
that. No, no . . . you’re
Uncle Shem!
” She gave him a one-armed hug and pushed him gently to sit down on the sofa.

“He scared me near to death, Mahrree,” he stared at the wall as he remembered it. “He apologized afterwards, but I’ve never seen his eyes so hard. I don’t think he entirely believed me.”

Mahrree sat next to him. “Ever since he lost Hogal and Tabbit he hasn’t quite been himself. Give him some time.”

Shem nodded. “I miss them, too. Rector Densal had a great way of explaining things. In fact, there are a few things I wished I could ask him about.”

Mahrree patted his shoulder. “Hogal really liked you, you know. He wanted us to keep you close. Told us several times that you were a most exceptional young man.”

Shem turned pink. “That’s only because I’m the only other so
ldier in the entire fort that went on Holy Days.”

“It was much more than that, Shem. Don’t worry too much about Perrin. I think once he sets his new plans in motion, he’ll b
ecome easier again. He’s taking all of this very personally and snapping at everyone.”

He’d even barked at Barker, which amazed Mahrree, but only made the black beast blink.

Shem nodded. “That’s what Lieutenant Karna told me, after. That even Cockalorum and Curglaff said the attacks were ‘convenient’ for the major.”

Mahrree cringed. And she was just beginning to hope he was softening again. “Oh, he’s not going to be much fun tonight. I was thinking of having you over for dinner,” she patted his leg, “but—”

“I’m on duty until midnight, anyway.” He stood up abruptly, pushing her hand away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be doing this, sitting and talking with you
like this
. I’m on duty right now!”

The poor boy, Mahrree thought. Perrin really had him shaken.

“Part of your duty is informing me of what’s going on at the fort, especially with my husband!” Mahrree winked at him. “You
are
a spy, and with more than one commander. Don’t you realize that?”

Shem turned pink again. “Yes, I’m
well
aware of that, ma’am. Mahrree,” he corrected himself.

“Tomorrow night then, Shem. You come over for dinner. I don’t want you going home for leave without the two of you on better terms. He’s
only doing his duty—it’s not about you. Tomorrow he’ll be better. If not,” she bobbed her head back and forth, “I’ll let you know.”

Corporal Zenos took a more formal stance. “Yes, ma’am! I best get back to the fort. This house is secure. I’ll make my report to the major.” Shem paled a little at the thought.

Mahrree chuckled. “Chin up, soldier! You’re a hero, remember?”

Shem looked positively wretched.

C
hapter 14 ~ “Shem, I don’t know if you realize what you’re asking.”

T
he Administrator of Loyalty sat in his office late at night reading again. Gadiman’s office used more candles than the entire floor combined. Across his desk came news from all over the world. And there was no better way to spend his days, evenings, and nights than making sure he was aware of every incident in Idumea and beyond. Nothing could be more important.

His wife never understood that, and now he was no longer bu
rdened with trying to make her understand. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure exactly when she left. He noticed a few weeks ago that the shelves were getting dusty and bare of food, the dishes overflowing in the basin hadn’t been washed, and that his house had been pleasantly silent for at least a moon’s full phase, maybe even two.

He turned the pages of the file secretly retrieved from the garr
ison after the High General of Idumea had left for the evening. The full report contained the details of each of the raids and the aftermath. Now every village without a fort was clamoring for increased speed in constructing theirs, and those with forts wanted reinforcements. The three villages targeted would receive fifty more men, and the other forts an additional twenty-five until recruitment numbers could be increased. And now, Chairman Mal—
and
General Relf Shin—were receiving stacks of letters from citizens praising their “forward thinking” in giving so much power to the commanders.

Gadiman seethed.

It was his idea! All of it!

Well,
most
of it, about giving more power to the commanders.

But he told it to Mal, and Mal shared
his
idea with that worm of a man, Doctor Brisack. Brisack didn’t deserve to have that other chair! He didn’t deserve to be Mal’s left hand. That was Gadiman’s position!

But since Gadiman was
only a
law assessor
, not some heady scientist who conducted experiments with grass and bark and sulfur, he wasn’t “good enough.”

Oh, he was
good enough
to judge the loyalty of the world, to identify which citizens were getting just a bit full of themselves and needed to be knocked down a notch or two. Mal depended heavily on his reports, but still Brisack sat in
his
chair. How much longer would Mal put up with him?

Gadiman quickly—but precisely—jotted down numbers and names and locations for his own comprehensive report. So many dead, and not the correct ones. If Gadiman had been in charge, there’d be no Shins left alive! He would’ve seen to that.

Brisack, what did he do? Gave vague messages, obscure suggestions, and hoped everyone did everything right. He couldn’t even make contact with their so-called Quiet Man. In the last three incidents, Shin wasn’t hurt beyond a scratch on his back.

That was Brisack’s failure. And Gadiman was keeping track of all the
good doctor’s
failures. Every last number and detail.

Gadiman wouldn’t fail.

He knew precisely what to do, and that lieutenant he was training was hungry enough to follow Gadiman’s every command.
He
could pull this off. He’d succeed where the others failed.

Gadiman
only had to wait for Mal to finally be fed up. And he would be, probably by tomorrow. And then the Administrator of Loyalty would demonstrate his immense loyalty by presenting the ultimate plan for destroying Shin.

Whichever Shin Mal wanted destroyed.

-
--

“Finally!” a large man in dark mottled green and brown clothing breathed as he saw the lone figure walking up to the hot spring. He rushed over to the young soldier and embraced him. “You have no idea the worry you’ve caused.”

The young man chuckled and sat down on the log. “Nice to see you again too! I
am
sorry, but I haven’t been able to leave before now.”

“Understandable.” His companion sat next to him. “We had a
ssurances you would recover, but still—” He took the corporal’s head and looked at the scar healing on his forehead. “I suppose that’s the best they could do. At least it’s at the hairline.”

“So it won’t ruin my boyish good looks?” the young man grinned.

The large man shook his head. “No, no you haven’t changed a bit. Feeling all right?”

He sighed. “Yes. Bit of a difficult day with Major Shin, but I think we’ll come out of it all right.”

“So you still want to continue? We can pull you out—”

“No, absolutely not!” he said. “There’s nowhere I want to be more than here. I’m making excellent progress with the family. It’s almost like they’re mine. My second home,” he added quietly.

The large man eyed him closely. “Some may not be happy to hear that, Shem.”

He nodded apologetically. “I know. Phrase it however you need to. Just let them know I have no intentions of leaving. Certainly not now.”

The large man nodded. “Still going to return on your leave that’s coming up? Are you up to it?”

Zenos nodded. “Yes, I’ll be up to travelling. I’ve been thinking a great deal about everything and I need to ask a question.”

“Hifadhi will be expecting you.”

---

Barker’s head snapped up late that night, and he ran to the fence by the alley, his tail wagging so wildly it slapped the fence.

“Missed you too, boy,” the man in the black jacket chuckled quietly, tossing him a large piece of bacon. “I’ve got extra tonight. Now, up, up, up!”

Barker immediately stood up and put his paws on top of the fence.

It was going to be a good night.

-
--

Chairman Mal looked up from his desk in his mansion. The young officer he sent for stood at attention in the doorway. “Sit, Heth.”

The lieutenant sat down at a nearby chair. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes,” Mal said. “You’ve read the report?”

“I’m assuming that was your third test of Shin, correct?”

Mal nodded once.

“And it seems he passed it?”

Mal folded his hands on the desk.

“Which wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for,” Heth said with a small smile that wanted to be a snigger, but he held it in. “Which means . . . I get my chance, don’t I?”

“Lieutenant, I’ve been thinking, and I realize I’m coming at this from the wrong angle,” he said with detached analysis.

But he couldn’t keep it up.

“I want to see Major Shin brought to his knees!” he snarled. “I want him struck so close to home that he feels threatened even in his own bedroom! I want to prove to him he can crumble like everyone else! And I want
you
to be the one who gets revenge on the Shin family for what they’ve done to you and your family!”

“With pleasure, sir!” Heth said proudly. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Apparently Gadiman has a plan, and is anxious to prove his worth to me,” the Chairman said, rubbing his hands. “Brisack has his own plan, but I’m assuming it will fail as everything else has. We have an insider, but so far he’s been
too
quiet and hasn’t contacted us. So you and Gadiman have the backup plan. Realize this is not only a test of Shin, but of you and Gadiman. You pass this test, you’ll both be in most enviable positions.”

“Sir, was that an ‘
if
we pass this test,’ or a ‘
when
we pass this test’?”

“It better be a ‘
when’
, Lieutenant. An ‘
if’
will see you sharing the same grave as old Master Sergeant Wiles.”

---

Tuma Hifadhi sat at his desk looking out the window, watching for the horse and rider to arrive. When they did, he smiled and stood up to begin his slow shuffle out to the main room. The front door opened a moment later and the young man beamed when he saw the old man.

“Sir!”

Hifadhi smiled at his army greeting. “Come here!” he said holding out his arms. “Let me see that head, Shem!”

Shem grinned and walked over to him. Hifadhi caught him in a quick embrace, then pushed him gently to sit down on a chair. Shem sat obediently as Hifadhi brushed back his hairline and looked at the scar. He pressed carefully, but Shem flinched.

“Sorry, son,” Hifadhi said. “Seems you’ll have an indentation there for the rest of your life.”

Shem nodded. “That’s the same conclusion the doctor, my f
ather, my sister, and everyone else who has pushed on that spot came to.”

Hifadhi chuckled and sat down in a chair next to him. “So good to see you again! I must say, that was a close call.”

Shem shook his head and smiled. “I was fine, sir. Always was! Sir, I have something to ask.”

“Oh?”

Shem swallowed hard and licked his lips. “Sir, I want to ask permission to . . . go back.”

Hifadhi nodded. “You still have about eight moons—”

“No sir,” Shem interrupted. “I mean, go back
indefinitely
.”

Hifadhi sat back and sighed. “Shem, you know we allow for o
nly a two year commitment—”

Shem leaned forward and took the old man’s hands. “Sir, please—this is different. I
must
stay with the Shin family!”

Hifadhi looked at him hard. “I read the report. You said they’re like your own now?”

Shem shrugged and looked at his feet.

“Anything
else
I should know about?” Hifadhi asked leadingly.

“Sir, I . . . I feel a great need to stay with them.”

“For how long, Shem?”

“For as long as it takes,” he said simply.

Hifadhi raised his eyebrows. “Shem, I don’t know if you realize what you’re asking. ‘As long it takes’?
None of us knows how long that is.”

Shem looked back up at him. “Sir, this is my life. It
needs
to be my life—”

Hifadhi held up a hand. “We keep the commitments to only two years for a good reason. After that, people tend to lose their perspe
ctive. The possibility that they begin to drift to the other side—”

Shem stood up. “I won’t do that!” he insisted. “I’m strong enough! Please, make an exception in my case.”

Hifadhi raised his hand again. “How can you be so sure you won’t be like others, Shem Zenos?” His voice was still quiet, but his tone was firm. “Do you realize what would happen if you forget your purpose?”

Shem nodded, now much more in control of his emotions. “I do, sir. I also know what might happen to the Shin family if I’m
not
there. They need me. And, to be honest, I need them.” He kneeled down in front of the old man. “Nothing’s more important than this family.”

Hifadhi’s normally kind eyes squinted into something far more penetrating and severe. “To
you
, Shem?”

“Yes, I’ll confess—to
me
, sir.” He met Hifadhi’s sharp gaze. “But also to
all
of us. I know the balance that must be maintained. I have incredible access to the family and their home. I can keep myself separate, and I
am
keeping my perspective. I can
do
this, sir. Have I done anything to lose your confidence yet?”

Hifadhi shook his head slowly. “No, Shem. You’ve been exe
mplary.” He sighed. “We’ve been discussing your unique situation at length. Consider, we could send someone in with you for a time, then—”

“No! No one else. It’s too risky. Please, let me stay. Until . . .” his voice dropped off.

“Until when, Shem?”

Shem shrugged. “The end?”

Hifadhi watched him for a moment. He stared deep into his eyes and saw what he wanted to see.

But he said, “You’d have to keep a low profile, and your name quiet. Make no lasting connections with anyone else. Become as anonymous as possible. Avoid drawing attention to yourself . . . We’ve had some in the past struggle to keep quiet,” Hifadhi told him sternly, “and put themselves
and others
in great peril, even once drawing the attention of the Administrator of Loyalty—”

“I know, sir,” Shem said, his anxious eyes so pleading they
could have made a puppy seem hostile. “But, please?”

Hifadhi couldn’t torment him any longer.

“Shem Zenos, if it were any other man than you, I wouldn’t be saying this: Tell your father I’m sorry, then tell Major Shin you’ll re-sign, long term. You’ve decided the army is your career.”