Valentine's Rising (22 page)

“The terrorists? The renegades?”

“They're right about them. Most of them are just misled. They don't know the Reapers are like white blood cells in an organism. If a piece of the body isn't working right, if it doesn't belong, if it's dead wood, it gets taken out to keep the rest of the system healthy.”

“So you don't have problems with the system.” He waved his assistant farther away to plant another stake.

Valentine's dancing heart missed a step. He'd found that among people who disliked the Kurians, they put a little extra stress on the phrase “the system” as a way of sounding out others who might share unorthodox opinions.

I've been running my mouth again. Is this a trap? Does he want to see how far I'll step into the noose?
The problem was, he liked Xray-Tango for some reason, and when he liked someone, the dam on his garrulousness broke. This time, a breach could cost every man in his command his life. He needed to stuff a sandbag in his mouth, block it up like the river, before his tongue hung them all.

“I've done well under it,” Valentine said, after a pause he hoped didn't betray him as thinking about his answer too much.

“Nothing's perfect under the sun. Come to think of it, even the sun up there isn't quite round. It's a bubbling sphere. Sends out some long arms of superheated gas now and then, if you look at it close. But the governors and their Reapers are in the here and now, not millions of miles away. When you're close to them, just like with the sun, sometimes you see the flaws. But we're a stronger civilization, thanks to them. Even if the system's ugly at times, doesn't work as fairly as it should.”

“Are you saying something's wrong with the system, General?”

“I suppose I am, in a roundabout way. Thing is, if something doesn't work right, you either throw it away or you fix it. The poor bastards who used to live in this part of the country, they tried to get rid of it. It got rid of them, instead. I'm sure you've noticed as you get higher in the ranks it becomes more seductive. You know who Nietzsche was?”

“Ummm . . .” Valentine knew, but he wanted to let Xray-Tango talk.

“He talked about supermen, beyond old concepts of good or evil. You get to feel that way after a while. Beyond law, because there really isn't one, except don't cross the Kurians. Beyond morality, since there's no one to censure you—and as long as you do your job right the Higher Ups won't.”

Valentine felt his admiration for Xray-Tango ebb. He'd heard too many upper ranks in New Orleans talk this way.
The supermen rise, and decide who shall rise behind them. The others have to die
. “Freedom,” Valentine said.

“Yes, it's damn near perfect freedom. I've got a brass ring, so I know what I'm talking about. But you know what? While most use their freedom to put on airs, or lose themselves in drink, or vice—hell, I know a colonel who screws little boys and girls—some of us use it to improve things. You can improve the system. Not all at once, and maybe not outside where you hold whatever authority you've climbed to, but you can make a difference. Tell you the truth, Le Sain, it's pretty satisfying, helping those who don't have a choice about anything.”

Valentine stood silently, until it became clear Xray-Tango expected him to say something. “I'm not going to argue with anything you've said, sir. But why are you telling me this, General?”

Xray-Tango turned. He accidentally bumped his
groma
and, before it fell, caught it up again in a blur of motion. Valentine hadn't seen anyone move like that, anyone who wasn't tuned up by the Lifeweavers, that is. Now he knew how Xray-Tango won all those trophies. He wondered if he was looking into the mismatched eyes of a Cat, deep undercover.

“I'm telling you this, Le Sain, because I've taken a shine to you. You're a good officer. I've decided I want you in my command. You'll have an enviable place in New Columbia—in the new Trans-Mississippi, one day. I want to put men in place who think like I do. Maybe together, we can build something worthwhile. Consul Solon's got the vision, he just needs men who can help him carry it out.”

“Thank you, sir. But I've promised my command a chance to distinguish themselves, at least doing something other than hunting down the moonshiners.”

“Are they that eager, or is their commander?”

“Action means promotion,” Valentine said.

“You may get your chance soon. We're going to activate your brigade, refit them as light infantry. Once we've gotten through the final push up those mountains, we'll be in a position to promote you. Maybe even get you the ring you're sparking on.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It's not quite as easy as that. You still need to speak to someone before you formally join AOT Combat Corps. Trust me, you'll come through with flying colors. You're intelligent, and you've already proven yourself where it counts. He might test you some more, but don't worry; I passed it and I'm sure you can, too.”

Xray-Tango shouted to his assistant, “Sun's dying, son. Let's call it a day. We'll finish laying out the quad tomorrow.” He picked up his Roman surveyor and shouldered it. “Hungry, Colonel?”

“I could eat.”

“Good. Maybe our little meeting would go better over dinner.”

Had Consul Solon slipped in early? The rumor, spread up and down the slop-pail lines, was that Solon was due in New Columbia, to check on plans for construction of his new capital city and especially his Consular Residence on the north bank of the Arkansas. He'd heard grumbling from the engineering officers, who were still clearing rubble with a single bulldozer while Solon's engineers had a crane, backhoe, cement mixer, and “the good dozers” up on his hilltop west of town. Supposedly, plans for the final push against the remnants of Southern Command were to be outlined, giving the generals in the field time to work out the details once the general strategy was handed down. Boats were already ferrying men from the hospital to clear bed space.

The worst cases went to the seashell-like tower still under construction. Some said that afterward their bones ended up in the cement mortar.

As they walked back to Xray-Tango's headquarters, Valentine marshaled his arguments to petition for a role in the offensive; he wanted all the operational knowledge he could get. The fact that Xray-Tango had offered to arm and activate his men could mean that the battalion was to take part.

The general led him past his sentries. His headquarters still buzzed with activity, though there were fewer present to be busy. Instead of taking Valentine to his corner office the general led him down a set of stairs, along a whitewashed warren of corridors, and around a corner to another sentry. This one had a different uniform than the other rough-and-ready soldiers in the general's command. He wore a dark, crisp uniform that was a cross between old Marine Corps dress blues and an SS ceremonial uniform. A bullpup assault rifle came to present as the general rapped on the door and opened it.

So Consul Solon's got his own version of the Praetorian Guard
, Valentine thought as he passed in. He readied his mind for the interview with the new administrator of the Trans-Mississippi.

Then he stopped. This was an interrogation room. Complete with mirror at one end, a desk and a waiting chair.

Sitting behind the table in the bare little semicell was a Reaper.

 

“
have a seat, mr. knox le sain,
” the Reaper hissed. It had a dry, menacing voice, like old bones grinding against each other. Its skin had all the life and animation of a rubber mask; its heavy robes had a faint mustiness, but a sharper smell—like hospital disinfectant—came from the sleeve holes and cowl. Piss-colored eyes, as cold and unblinking as a lizard's, fixed on him. The Reaper's gaze escorted him into the room.

“Colonel Knox Le Sain, my lord,” Valentine corrected, sitting in the armless chair across from evil. The presence of a Reaper made the everyday motion into a fall. It was poised, still, and every instinct in Valentine's gut told him that it would spring into action, a praying mantis going after an unwary fly. He wondered how many fearful tells could be read on his face, and tried to assume the complacency of one who is used to conversation with a Reaper.

“
that remains to be decided. do you know to whom you are speaking?”
The Reaper's face had all the expression of an Easter Island monolith.

“I haven't had the privilege of your lordship's acquaintance.”

“I can handle introductions,” Xray-Tango broke in. “Le Sain, you're in the presence of the governor of New Columbia, Lord Mu-Kur-Ri. You understand how this”—
blink-blink-bliiink
—“errr, works?”

“I know I'm speaking to his lordship's vehicle for interacting with us. At least that's how it was explained to me.”

“
you're nervous, le sain
.” The Reaper used a quiet monotone, so Valentine wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.

“Put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn't you be?”

“
we are beyond emotion
.
you need not be frightened. we simply wish to thank you for your service in our recent flooding. had the warehouses and their stores been lost, our preparations would have been delayed. it is time for this territory to be pacified, once and for all. it has already taken far too long. one concern remains.
”

Sometimes the Kurians liked to toy with their food. Valentine wondered if the ax was just slow to fall in this case, or if the creature was speaking the truth.

“What concern?” Valentine asked. He tried to lower his lifesign, worried that the Kurians could use it as a lie detector of some sort. He imagined jamming all his fear into a blue bag he could reduce to the size of a marble that he could carry about in his pocket.

“
the origins of your ghost commission. our cousins in louisiana do not care to cooperate with us in tracing you. certain inconsistencies need to be explained.”

Valentine tried not to react at the word “ghost,” his code name. “Guilty. I'm not a colonel. I was a captain once, but I got busted back to the ranks. Got involved with the wrong man's daughter. I heard you needed men fast. Figured it would be a chance at a new start, fresh ground.”

“Sort of a Foreign Legion, Le Sain?” Xray-Tango said. “Not a bad idea. They've got one of those on the Mexican border with California. From what I hear it's a success.”

“
the aztlan rangers do not concern us in the trans-mississippi, general. tell me, le sain, how are you at following orders? do you put your ambition ahead of your lord's trust?”

“My main ambition was to get out of the swamp. Then find a position where there was a chance of promotion. Done and done. You've already shown yourself hell-and-gone better than their lordships in Louisiana and Natchez. Food and uniforms are both an improvement up here. You said something about a reward?”

“
we shall get to that. but where are my manners, colonel? general, have some food brought in.”

Xray-Tango left. “
he is an efficient officer,”
Mu-Kur-Ri's caped mouthpiece said.
“he carries out orders intelligently. you would do wise to learn from him, in all things save one. he is a blade lacking an edge.”

“Meaning?”