The Three-Cornered War| Chapter | F | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
The Three-Cornered War
The White Regiment arrived on Splenn with less than half its virgin strength. Arrived by ship. There Colonel Artus Romlar exercised his influence with the Confederation Ministry, and had his three civilians forwarded to Iryala in a ministry courier. The regiment itself gated to Iryala by teleport, arriving in a security area of the Landfall Military Reservation. The troopers were quartered there overnight, and the next day given a reception by the Office of Special Projects. The king himself attended, and a crew from Iryala Video broadcast the welcoming ceremony.
Interesting, Romlar thought. Apparently the government wanted to add to the regiment’s reputation.
The next day the troopers were given new paycards that accessed the credits they’d accrued. Then they dispersed for a dek,1 to vacation, and visit their families. It was their first leave on their home world in more than four years.
Colonel Romlar, however, began three days of debriefing by an officer from the Office of Special Projects. He’d expected the OSP debrief. What surprised him was having an audience, all of them obviously members of the Movement. The general from the Ministry of Armed Forces asked about the training Romlar had given to Smoleni rangers on Maragor. Apparently the army planned to overhaul its own training.
On the fourth morning, Romlar was picked up by limousine, for a trip to "the residence of Lord Kristal." He was delivered, however, to a high-rise government office building on the extensive royal estate. Lotta Alsnor met him at the broad steps, and they faced off, holding hands between them, looking at each other. He grinned. "How come I have such a pretty girl?"
Her laugh was light. "Bullshit, Artus," she said. "I’m a plain and scrawny little minx. Wiry anyway. I prefer it that way. It holds down the distraction." She grinned. "But say it again; I like it." She squeezed his fingers. "I suppose you’re wondering why you were brought here. And what I’m doing here."
"It crossed my mind."
"Let’s go see Emry, and we’ll uncross it."
She led him into a large reception area where security personnel were conspicuous. The couple was not stopped; apparently Lotta was known to them. A wide main corridor took them to a glass-domed rotunda, some eighty yards across and fifty high. There, small groups of trees were surrounded by lawns, fountains, shrubs, and bright, many-colored flowerbeds. There was a fragrance of blossoms. Birds darted, twittered, sang. Apparently, Artus thought, tailored repellent fields kept them inside.
Lotta grinned at him. "Nice, eh?"
"My driver said he was taking me to Kristal’s residence."
It was an inside joke, she explained. The building officed OSP headquarters and labs. As His Majesty’s Governor of Special Projects, and a widower, Kristal lived there in a penthouse apartment.
So the OSP rates a governor now, Romlar thought. It’s risen on either the importance scale or the PR scale. Or both.
They rode a lift tube to the top floor, where Lotta led him to a large reception room with offices on two sides. Its windows extended from floor to ceiling.
The receptionist looked up smiling. "His lordship is expecting you," she said. "Just a moment." She spoke quietly into a commset, then motioned toward a door. "Go right in."
The old man was on his feet to greet them. Taking one of Romlar’s thick hard hands in both of his thin ones, he shook it. "Artus, it’s good to have you back. It’s spring where you’ve come from, right?"
"Going on summer."
"Well. And here you find summer half used up." His deep bright eyes examined Romlar’s. "I have a new assignment for you. A new and different assignment, to start after you’ve had your leave. A short leave, I’m afraid, a few days."
He paused. "I take it your regiment came home in good mental and spiritual condition?"
"Most of them better than I did."
Kristal nodded as if he knew what Romlar alluded to. "The regiment will not be contracted out again," he said. "The Confederation has its own need for it. An imperial invasion armada is on its way, little more than two years distant. You’ll help develop strategies and tactics to counter the invasion. Which will mean turning over regimental command to someone else—whomever you consider best suited."
Romlar wasn’t smiling now, but his face was relaxed, his answer casual. "Coyn Carrmak," he said. "He’s my best officer, the best leader, and the smartest man in the regiment. And the men know how good he is. Beyond that, he’s also the luckiest person I’ve ever seen." He glanced at Lotta. "With the exception of your brother. Jerym’s come through more than anyone else in the outfit, unscratched."
He turned back to Kristal. "I’m not surprised. What specifically do you have in mind for it?"
"More training. Partly in techniques and tactics no one’s invented yet. That’s where you come in. Are you willing?"
Romlar grinned. "I’m your man. It sounds interesting."
"Good. To start with, you’ll work right here. Your office will be two floors down."
Romlar put a hand on Lotta’s arm. "Does Lotta have a role in this?"
Kristal laughed. "She’ll take you to lunch and answer your questions. Meanwhile, I have a great deal to do here." His gesture took in not only his desk and monitor, but the whole building. "We’ll talk again, very soon."
Lotta took Romlar to the second floor, to a dining room whose transparent inner walls bordered the Rotunda. There they took a table near a cluster of flowering fern trees, their fronds soft green through the glass. A waiter brought menus, took their drink orders and left.
"An impressive place," Romlar said. "What hat do you wear here?"
"I’m Emry’s principal psychic resource, and the head of his Remote Spying Section."
"How about getting married then? Take an apartment and be together for a change."
"I’m afraid I can’t take an apartment with you."
His eyebrows raised. "Why not?"
She laughed. "Because Emry’s assigned me a guest house on the hill. As free from psychic disturbance as you can get, this near the capital. I’m one of a kind, he tells me. To be more exact, he said: ‘Lotta, you’re like Artus. You’re one of a kind.’ " Her smile softened. "There’s lots of room, if you’d like to share it with me. Our schedules won’t always match, but we’ll be together a lot more than once every few years."
Romlar chuckled. "I love you, Lotta. Very much. I suppose I’ve mentioned that before."
"I seem to recall something like that. In the dim past." She grinned. "Would you like to see the house first? Before you commit yourself to anything as drastic as marriage?"
He laughed aloud, then leaned across the table and they kissed.
| Chapter | F | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
