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As far as anyone would be able to tell, it was just a regular black-market operation. He sold Imperial materials to the Mardukans, and in return he had a nice Mardukan servant and trade goods, which he used to purchase materials from docking spacers. In reality, the majority of materials weren't being sold, but stored in bunkers. Each time he sent stuff down, he also sent along payments to the mayor—either human goods, or Krath coin. And each time he pulled stuff out, he paid more. He had backup caches in the hills, including a full set of armor, for which he had the codes, and a heavy plasma gun. If he had to fight to get the rest, he could. But he'd never had any trouble with Tul. He thought of it as his little war-bank.
And now it was time to make a withdrawal.
They came into the village the back way, through the turom fields, stepping carefully around the round balls of horselike dung. Like much of the continent's architecture, the mayor's house was a squat construction of heavy basalt rocks. It was built more like a fortress than most, and its back door was constructed of half-meter thick planks that didn't respond well to a standard knock. Which was why Jin drew his bead pistol and pounded on the door with its handgrip, swinging the gun like a hammer.
After a few moments, the door swung open to reveal a wizened old Mardukan female. Jin had never been sure if she was the cook, or a mother-in-law, or what. It probably didn't matter, but it nagged at his sense of curiosity. She was always the one to answer the door, no matter if he was early or late.
She looked at him, looked at the Mardukans with him, made a motion to wait, then closed the door. After a few moments more, it was opened by the local Krath leader.
"Temu Jin, I see you," he said. "You bring Shin to my door?"
"I need to get a few things."
"Of course," the mayor said with a gesture of resignation. "I fear that the authorities are becoming too interested in this affair."
"I'll do my best not to let you get caught up in it," and Jin said. "I treasure your security as much as you treasure my gold."
"Perhaps," the mayor muttered, then beckoned for Jin to follow him and led the way through the darkened town.
The route took them to an abandoned basement which had been hollowed out and reinforced on one side. The hollow, in turn, had been packed with boxes, and Temu Jin started checking packing lists.
"Cataclysmite," he muttered, shaking his head. "What in hell does he want two hundred kilos of cataclysmite for?"
* * *
Despreaux waved the cup of wine away as Julian filed out of the door.
"Not for me, either."
"Don't make me drink it all alone," Roger said. "Besides, it's good for healing bones. It's got calcium in it."
"That's milk, you goof," Despreaux said. She chuckled, but then she sobered. "Roger, we have to talk."
"Uh, oh. What have I done now?"
"I think ..." She stopped and shook her head. "I think we should stop seeing each other."
"Look, you're my bodyguard," Roger said. "I have to see you."
"You know what I mean."
"If it's the fraternization thing, we'll handle it," he said with a frown. He was begi
"It's not that," she said, shaking her head. "Let's just leave it, okay? Say 'thanks,' and shake hands and be friends."
"You're joking," he spat. "Tell me you're joking! What ever happened to 'eternal love' and all that?"
"Some things ... change. I don't think we're right."
"Nimashet, right up until we got to Mudh Hemh, you thought we were as right as— Well, I can't think of a metaphor. Very right. So what's changed?"
"Nothing," she said, turning away and getting out of the water.
"Is it one of the Marines?"
"No!" she said. "Please don't play twenty questions, all right?"
"No, not all right. I want to know what's changed."
"You did, Your Highness," she said, sitting back down on the edge of the water and wringing out her hair. "Before, you were prince Roger, Heir Tertiary to the Throne of Man. Now, you're either a wanted outlaw, or the next Emperor. And you're not willing to settle for wanted outlaw, are you?"
"No," Roger said balefully. "Are you?"
"I don't know," she sighed. "There's been so much death, I'm afraid it's never going to end. Not even get better."
"Hey, yo, Sergeant Despreaux," he smiled. "You're the one who carried me out of the battle in Voitan. Remember?"
"Roger, I haven't fired a shot in combat since ... Sindi. Yeah, I think that's it. That little 'holding action' of yours before the main battle."
"What?"
"Remember when we were coming out of the temple in Kirsti? Who was the only person with ammo?"
"You were," Roger replied. "But ... I thought you'd just been very conservative with your fire."
"I hadn't fired at all!" she snapped. "Not even when that bastard almost took your head off on the back stair!"
"But—" Roger stared at her, stu
"Nothing," she admitted. "Except that you're not going to just let bygones be bygones. You're going to go charging back to Imperial City with blood in your eye. And you'll either overthrow Jackson, or die trying. Right?"
"Damned right!"
"So, you're either going to be dead, or the Emperor, right?"
"Well, Mother is probably competent—"
"But when she dies, or abdicates, you're the Emperor, right?"
"Oh."
"And do you think that the Emperor can just marry any old rube farm girl from the back of beyond?" she asked. "Sure, when you were just Prince Roger, it was like a dream come true. I figured I'd be a nine-day celebrity, and then we'd find some out of the way place to ... be Roger and Nimashet. But now you're going to be Emperor, and Emperors have dynastic marriages, not marriages to girls from the out-planets."
"Oh," he repeated. "Oh, Nimashet—"
"You know I'm right," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I saw the way O'Casey was looking at me. I'm willing to be your wife. I'm even willing to be your girlfriend. I'm not willing to be your mistress, or your concubine. And those are the choices available to Emperor Roger and Sergeant Nimashet Despreaux."
"No," he said, wrapping his arms around her knees. "Nimashet, I'll need you. Even if we succeed, and that's not a given, I'll need you to be there. I ... you're always at my back. Maybe you're not shooting anymore, but you're still there. Even when Cord isn't, you're there. You're like my right arm. I can't make it without you."
"Hah," she snorted through the tears. "You'd still be cursing your enemies with both arms and legs hacked off. And drown them in blood to kill them. You don't know when to quit. Me? I do. I quit. When we get back and everything is done, I'm turning in the uniform. And until then, I'm going to see Sergeant Major Kosutic about putting me on noncombat duties. It's beyond combat fatigue, Roger. I just can't focus anymore. I may be at your back, but that's because you're wiping everything out in front of you, and at your back is the safest place to be. The only problem is that I'm supposed to be your bodyguard, not the other way around."
"You've saved my life ..." He thought about it. "Three times, I think."
"And you've saved mine as many," she replied. "It's not a matter of keeping score. Just, let it go, okay? I can't marry the Emperor, I can't guard you worth a damn, and I'm not much good for anything else. I'll head back to Midgard, buy a farm, find a nice stolid husband, and ... try not to think about you. Okay?"