John Ringo - East of the Sun, West of the Moon

“I don’t know,” Megan replied, smiling. “Does it include one channel entirely filled with chatter?”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Herzer admitted, frowning. “Gods.”

“Maybe we give her her own channel?” Megan said, grinning.

“If she even goes,” Herzer pointed out. “She’s not the adventurous type. And I don’t think we can exactly conscript the people for this mission. I’m going to call for volunteers from the Blood Lords for an unspecified mission with ‘high hazard and high chance of death.’ Which means more than half of them will volunteer and I’ll pick and choose from the other half if I need to. They’ll be the ones that have already seen enough war to know that I mean it. But the techs… I don’t think we can force them. We’ll have to ask them without being specific about what the mission involves. And most of them aren’t going to volunteer.”

“Which means we’ll be critically short of techs,” Megan pointed out.

“Yep,” Herzer said, frowning. “Which means more care about protecting them. Especially since we won’t have time to more than half train the Blood Lords on onboard systems so they’ll be lost if they run into anything technical.” He paused again, frowning.

“I want to bring in some assistants. I don’t know where they’ll fall in the TO and E but the information load is getting beyond me. I’d ask to borrow Meredith but she’s busy enough with your stuff and she’s not available for the mission.” He paused and frowned again then shrugged. “One of them is a female that I have some history with, but she’s got damned near as sharp a mind as Meredith. The other two aren’t as sharp but I think I’ll need them both, if not on the mission. Van Krief might not be shipboard; somebody is going to have to handle shuffling forces on the Earth for reinforcements. I need to get them headed this way, soonest. But that means taking time to go over to the War Department myself. Which is one of the reasons I need them.”

“Tell Meredith what you need and Ashly will run it over to the War Department,” Megan said, frowning in thought. “I still don’t have any technical data to start training on, for that matter.”

“I sent a message about that as well,” Herzer said, brow still furrowed in thought. “And I want to find out if there’s any intel on what Celine is going to throw at us.”

“If Dad has found out anything, he hasn’t told me,” Megan said. “Of course, I haven’t talked to him since this came up. Put that on the list.”

“I don’t even know if Van Krief can write an operations order.” Herzer groaned. “I’m probably going to have to write the damned thing myself. All two hundred sub paragraphs.” He frowned and shook his head. “I need a copy of FM-196-4, damnit!”

“What in the heck is…?” Shanea said. “That… what you said.”

“Manual on Field Operations,” Herzer said, distantly. “I can practically recite it — especially since I was on the committee that wrote it — but practically and actually are two different things. It helps, it’s like an outline that you fill in the blanks. Part of that is you find where the blanks are .”

“Herzer,” Megan said, gently. “You’re getting so wrapped up in this you’re practically spinning. Tell Meredith what you need and then take a break.”

“You’re right,” Herzer said, shaking his head. “Thank you. We still need more staff. I’ll put Van Krief in charge of setting up the operations order, probably Destrang in charge of keeping us updated on intel and Tao will be general runner. And I can use him as a spotter when Bue’s not available. But I need them soonest, by tomorrow preferably.”

“Why don’t you and Meredith go work it out,” Megan said.

“Oh, and Mike and Courtney may be coming over this evening,” Herzer added. “I sent a message to their hotel. And I’m meeting with someone, here, at four.”

“Okay,” Megan sighed. “I guess I should have run you over to the War Department when I had a chance, huh?”

“Sorry,” Herzer said, standing up. “Meredith, if you have a moment?”

“Of course, Major,” Meredith said coldly.

Megan picked up a slice of cheese and took a bite, frowning.

“Megan,” Shanea said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Megan replied.

“Are you and Herzer…” Shanea furrowed her brow in thought and then said: “Screwing?”

Megan flinched and then swallowed the cheese.

“No.”

“Can I borrow him?” Shanea asked. “I mean, have you seen him? He glows! And he’s got the most enormous…”

“Shanea!” Megan said, sharply.

“Pecs…” Shanea drifted off. “Please? Just for a few minutes? Hours? A couple of days at the most? You’re not using it and I haven’t…”

“Shanea,” Megan sighed. “No. A definite no.” She stopped and thought for a moment, then shook her head. “It wouldn’t work, Shanea. Really. Don’t do this to me, please.”

“You’re so mean!” Shanea spat, standing up. “You’re worse than… Christel,” she added, storming out of the room.

Megan set down the rest of the cheese uneaten, dropped her face into her hands and sighed.

“You look like hell, dearie,” Mirta said.

“Did you catch any of that?” Megan said from inside her hands.

“Most of it,” Mirta replied. “I’m surprised it took this long for them all to start panting.”

“All?” Megan said, sitting up and looking at her poisonously.

“Open your eyes, Megan,” Mirta said, sharply. “All.”

“Ashly?” Megan spat. She and Ashly had not gotten along in the harem initially. When Megan arrived Ashly was the unspoken leader of the girls and could be, and was, poisonous to the point of sadism. They had arrived at a truce only after Megan had more or less beaten her half to death. Without any marks. The truce had lasted well enough but now a stab of pure jealousy shot through her at the thought of the tall, gorgeous blonde and Herzer.

“And Meredith,” Mirta said.

“ Meredith ?” Megan snapped, looking at the corridor to the office and weight-room. “Meredith?” she repeated, shaking her head. “She never so much as… she hates men!”

“Oh, she’s getting over it,” Mirta said, pouring some wine and sipping at it. “Quickly. I suppose it was the sudden change in him that caused it. He was, face it, more or less cooling his heels at your beck and call. More of a kept man than a soldier for the last few months. Give him a mission, especially one where he knows he has to be in tip-top shape, and he turns into something… different.”

“I’ve seen it, too,” Megan said, biting her lip. “Was it that bad? I knew there was something… different. He was different on the ship.”

“He’s a caged bird here,” Mirta said, shaking her head. “You know what that’s like. He’s in the cage of his own will, but the bars are there nonetheless. But now, he sees the cage opening. A tough mission, a command? He’s in heaven. And the bulging… muscles don’t hurt. Meredith, poor, poor soul, has to be in there with him as he builds up those rippling muscles, grunting and sweating with all those huge weights, pumping away…”

“Enough,” Megan said, gritting her teeth. “I get the picture.”

“And of course, he’s giving off enough signals of blue balls to fell a mare at a hundred paces,” Mirta pointed out.

“Not you, too?” Megan said, sadly.

“Oh, I’m a bit beyond the game, dearie,” Mirta said, laughing. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t look!”

“What am I going to do ?” Megan practically wailed.

“Well, getting him laid would help,” Mirta pointed out. “If the rest of us can suddenly realize we have parts south of our stomach, I’m surprised you haven’t. Especially given the pheromones running around in the apartment. It’s not the food or water; we’re all eating and drinking the same stuff.”