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She had scared Alicia half to death, and felt uncharacteristically penitent for it afterward, the first time she activated her host's main processor and walked her body across the room without consulting her. Their security codes meant nothing to Tisiphone, and she unlocked them effortlessly, exploring the labyrinthine marvels of logic trees and data flows with sheer delight. Their molycirc wonders had become a vast, marvelous toy, and she flowed through them like the wind, recognizing the way in which she might use them, in an emergency, as both capacitor and amplifier. They restored something she had lost, restored a bit of what she once had been, and she had sensed Alicia's amusement as she chattered away about her finds.
Yet it was past time for them to be about their mission, and she wondered if Alicia's meeting with Sir Arthur Keita would bring the moment closer or send it receding even further into the future.
-=0=-***-=0=
Alicia's spine stiffened against her will as she stepped into the sparsely appointed conference room. A small, spruce man in the crimson tunic and blue trousers of the Ministry of Justice's uniformed branches stood looking out a window. He didn't turn as she and Ta
He still refused to wear his ribbons, she noted. Well, no one was likely to pester him about proper uniform. She came to attention before him, clasping her hands behind her, and stared three inches over his head.
"Captain Alicia DeVries, reporting as ordered, sir!" she barked, and Sir Arthur Keita, Knight Grand Commander of the Order of Terra, Solarian Grand Cross, Medal of Valor with diamonds and clasp, and second in command of the Personal Cadre of His Imperial Majesty Seamus II, studied her calmly.
"Cut the kay-det crap, Alley," he rumbled in a gravel-crusher voice, and her lips quirked involuntarily. Her eyes met his. He smiled. It was a small smile, but a real one, easing a bit of the tightness in her chest.
"Yes, Uncle Arthur," she said.
The shoulders of the man looking out the window twitched. He turned just a tad quickly, and her lips quirked again at his reaction to her lese majeste. So he hadn't known how the troops referred to Keita, had he?
"That's better." Keita pointed at a chair. "Sit."
She obeyed without comment, clasping her hands loosely in her lap, and returned his searching gaze. He hadn't changed much. He never did.
"It's good to see you," he resumed after a moment. "I wish it could be under different circumstances, but—" A raised hand tipped, as if pouring something from a cupped palm. She nodded, but her eyes burned with sudden memory. Not of Mathison's World, but of another time, after Shallingsport. He'd known the uselessness of words then, too, when she'd learned of her promotion and medal and he'd shared her grief. A time, she thought, when she'd actually believed she would remain in the Cadre and not just of it.
"I know I promised we'd never reactivate you," he continued, "but it wasn't my decision." She nodded again. She'd known that, for if Sir Arthur Keita seldom gave his word, that was only because he never broke it.
"However," he went on, "we're both here now, and I've postponed this debrief as long as I could. The relief force pulls out for Soissons day after tomorrow; I'll have to make my report— and my recommendations—to Governor Treadwell and Countess Miller when we arrive, and I won't do that without speaking personally to you first. Fair?"
"Fair." Alicia's contralto was deeper than usual, but her eyes were steady, and it was his turn to nod.
"I've already viewed your statement to Colonel McIlheny, so I've got a pretty fair notion of what happened in the fire fight. It's what happened after it that bothers me. Are you prepared to tell me more about it now?"
The deep voice was unusually gentle, and Alicia felt an almost unbearable temptation to tell him everything. Every single impossible word. If anyone in the galaxy would have believed her it was Uncle Arthur. Unfortunately, no one could believe her, not even him, and they weren't alone. Her eyes nipped to the Justice man, and an eyebrow arched.
"Inspector Ferhat Ben Belkassem, Intelligence Branch," Keita said. "You may speak freely in front of him."
"In front of a spook?" Alicia's eyes snapped back to Keita's face, suddenly hard, and the temptation to ope
"In case you've forgotten, I'm a spook," he replied quietly.
"No, sir, I haven't forgotten. And, sir, I respectfully decline to be debriefed by Intelligence perso
Keita sighed, but he didn't retreat. His eyes bored into her across the table, and there was no yield in his voice.
"That isn't an option, Alley. You're going to have to talk to me." "Sir, I decline."
"Oh, come on, Alley! You've already spoken to McIlheny!"
"I have, sir, when under the impression that he remained a combat branch officer. And—" her voice turned even colder "—Colonel McIlheny is neither Cadre nor a representative of the Ministry of Justice. As such, he may in fact be an honorable man."
She felt Cateau flinch behind her, but Ta
The brigadier leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You can't decline, Alley. This isn't like last time, and I can't make any bargains with you." She sat stonily silent, and his face hardened. "Allow me to correct myself. In one respect, this is exactly like last time: you can damned well end up in the stockade if you push it."
"Sir, I respectful—"
"Hold it." He interrupted her in mid-word, before she could dig in any more deeply, then shook his head. "You always were a stubborn woman, Alley. But this isn't the case of a captain breaking a colonel around the edges—" Ben Belkassem's eyes widened fractionally at that "—and I don't have the latitude to allow you a gesture." He raised a palm as her eyes flared hot. "You had a right to it. I said so then, and I say so now, but this isn't then, and the questions aren't coming just from me. Countess Miller personally charged me with uncovering the truth."
His eyes drilled into hers, and she sat back in her chair. He meant it. If it had been only him, he might have let her off—again. But he had his orders, and orders were something he took very seriously, indeed.
"Excuse me, Sir Arthur.' Ben Belkassem raised one placating hand as he spoke. "If my presence is the problem, I will willingly withdraw."
"No, Inspector, you won't." Keita's voice was frosty. "You are part of this operation, and I will value your input. Alley?"
"Sir, I can't. It— I promised the company, sir." Her own hoarseness surprised her, and a tear glistened. She felt Tisiphone's surprise at the surge of raw, wounded emotion, then relaxed minutely as the Fury slipped another pane of that mysterious glass between her and the anguish. She drew a deep breath, meeting Keita's eyes pleadingly but with determination. "You understand about promises, sir."
"I do," Keita didn't wince, though his voice gave the impression he had, "but I have no choice. I know what happened at Shallingsport, and I was at Louvain. I understand your attitude. But I have no choice."
"Understand?" Alicia's voice cracked. She swallowed, but she couldn't stop. Despite all Tisiphone could do, an old, old agony drove her. "I'm not sure you do, sir. I don't think anyone could—except Ta
"I know."
"Yes, and you know why, too, sir! You know why that son-of-a-bitch screwed our mission brief to hell! You know he sent us in against a 'soft target,' a bunch of crackpot League separatists with 'improvised weaponry' and no tactical training. Well, I've got news for you, sir— there were two fucking thousand of the bastards, with the best weapons money could buy! But Captain Alwyn took us in, and we did our job. Oh, yes, we did our goddamned job, and seven of us came out alive!"
"Alley. Alley!" Alicia's augmentation crackled with prep signals as emotion jangled through her, and Gateau's hands massaged her shoulders, trying to relax her tension. "They did their best, Sarge." Ta
"Not like this," Alicia grated. "Not like this time, does it, Uncle Arthur?" Her eyes were green flint, challenging his, and he inhaled deeply.
"No, Captain. Not like this," he said at last, quietly, and looked over her head at Major Gateau. "Did Alley ever discuss this with you, Major?"
"No, sir." Ta
"No," he sighed, and turned his eyes back to Alicia. "Forgive me. You promised me you wouldn't, didn't you?
She stared back, face like marble, and he pursed his lips in thought, then nodded slowly.
"Perhaps it's time someone did, Major." He gestured at the chair beside Alicia and waited until Gateau sat. "All right. You know about the, um, flap when Alicia resigned?" Ta
"No, sir."
"I'll be damned. I never thought the cover-up would hold." Keita pinched the bridge of his nose again. "That officer, Major Gateau, was Colonel Wadislaw Watts, Imperial Cadre, the man—" he met her eyes, not Alicia's "—responsible for the Shallingsport intelligence assessment. And she didn't just 'strike' him; she hospitalized him in critical condition. In fact, it was, by her own subsequent admission, her intent to kill him.
Ta