John Ringo - Against the Tide

“That can be arranged as well,” the officer snarled, reaching for her.

“First of all, if you get your blood pressure up having sex, don’t blame me for the headache you’ll get,” Rachel said, avoiding the grab. “And as to the rest, you’ll have to take it up with Mr. Conner.”

The officer paused at that and then shrugged. “There will be later.”

“I’m sure,” Rachel replied. “Now get the hell out of my -hospital.”

She ducked through the flap of the tent and walked to the rear. The back of the main examining tent was by the east wall and there was a broad avenue between it and the wall. Since it was only used to move troops during an attack or a drill, it was a relatively quiet and out of the way spot for her to try to get her head back together.

The two Changed assigned to watch her followed her out. They were remarkably docile for Changed but that was Conner’s doing. As long as she stayed in the hospital area and didn’t try to talk to anyone but patients, they left her completely alone.

She looked up and nodded. The UFS fleet had to be near because there was a dragon up watching the camp nearly every day. It was right towards the sun but that suited her just fine. She ducked her head and twiddled the reflector back over her eye then looked back up at the dragon. It was a chance but she didn’t think the Changed were smart enough to know what she was doing. They had been instructed not to let her talk to people, not to prevent her from signaling .

“Herzer,” Edmund said as the major came through the door. His eyes widened in surprise as the Blood Lord was followed by Megan Travante. “Mistress Travante. I asked to see Herzer, however.”

“Am I unwelcome?” Megan said sitting down in one of the chairs. She glanced at the floor and saw that the bloodstains still hadn’t been removed.

“No,” Edmund said after a moment. He picked up a pair of stapled together message sheets and flipped them to Herzer. “From one of your dragons keeping an eye on the camp. You were right.”

Herzer looked at the sheet and frowned. The top was broken words, the bottom an attempt at translation.

“Eleven gates in tent,” Herzer read. “Trap for legion and archers. Seventy to one hundred thousand Changed. Feigned retreat. Conner in charge. Buggly.” He looked up at Edmund and frowned. “Buggly?”

“I used to call Rachel my little buggly-wuggly,” Edmund said, frowning at the desktop. “Not the sort of thing you would expect them to extract in questioning.”

“And not the sort of thing they’d tell us,” Herzer said, waving the paper. “That it’s a trap. But you suspected that, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Edmund replied, still looking at the desktop. “And even my intended counter to it won’t work against the full force. Unless…” He leaned back and rubbed at his chin, closing his eyes. “A hundred thousand. How fast for them all to emerge? Figure two abreast through ten portals with the eleventh for special weapons and groups. How fast are they emerging ?”

“Figure twenty per second,” Herzer said. “Close enough. But, sir, we can’t let them come out!”

“This is the bulk of the New Destiny army,” Edmund pointed out. “If we can break them, here…”

“Will all due respect your Dukeship,” Herzer said, tossing the paper back down. “We can’t face a fraction of that force!”

“Yes we can,” Edmund said, his eyes flaring open. “Don’t kid yourself. It’s all in the timing and we can do timing; they can’t.”

“Timing is all well and good…” Herzer said.

“How long to construct a fortified camp?” Edmund asked.

“Two hours,” Herzer replied, automatically.

“Not a full camp, just the beginnings,” Edmund said. “Stakes and one trench.”

“Say… forty-five minutes,” Herzer said. “Why the -catechism?”

“I think we can get that down to fifteen,” Edmund replied. “Okay, the first force comes out. There’s a brief clash. They run back towards camp. What happens then?”

“We pursue, the main force comes out of the portals and we get our head handed to us,” Herzer said, sighing. “They’ll probably start coming out in the middle of the battle. The retreating forces will be diverted around the camp to the side gates and the main force will sally through the north gate.”

“How long?” Edmund asked. “For the main force to reach the archers?”

“Say… fifteen, twenty minutes?” Herzer asked. “Why?”

“We don’t pursue,” Edmund replied. “Or, rather, the whole force doesn’t. We go to the archers’ hill.”

“And construct a camp?” Herzer said, aghast. “No time , sir!”

“There’s enough,” Edmund said. “We’ll have the archers and some people we’ll link up with them start on it. The Blood Lords with them can get it pegged out at least, start on the parapet. Then when the rest get there…”

“They just have to settle down and dig,” Herzer said. “Fast. But, sir, there are a hundred thousand of them, against six thousand. Even in a camp that’s long odds!”

“No, against twelve thousand,” Edmund said, poking at the table top. “Caught between two fortified camps. Two legions. Besides, it’s only going to be about fifty thousand, tops.”

“Sir,” Herzer said, frowning, “Balmoran is too far away to directly affect the main force. They’ll be concentrated, we’ll be dispersed. And they have a fortified camp in the middle…”

“Oh, I forgot that part,” Edmund admitted. “They won’t have their camp. We will.”

“And how have you been spending your time, Miss Ghorbani?” Conner asked as Rachel was led into his tent.

“Sewing up your more useable officers that forgot to duck,” Rachel replied. “How’s the siege going?”

“Slowly, slowly,” Conner answered. “Unfavorable winds slowing down the fleet, don’t you know. Can’t rush things too much. But they should be here in the morning. Since I’d hate for you to miss the show, I think your duties as a doctor are about done. You’ll be staying… closer to me. Won’t that be fun ?”

“I dunno, do I have to talk to you or can I just play with Roc?” she asked, grinning. “I bet he plays chess.”

“I have… spoken to Roc about his interactions with you,” Conner said, smiling thinly. “There will be no more interaction. Understood?”

“Of course,” Rachel replied, sadly. “Hate to break the elf out of the monster, wouldn’t we?”

“That would be… quite impossible,” Conner said. “There is nothing left of what you would call the ‘elf.’ Yes, as you’ve surmised, it is a modified elf. And there will be more, many more.”

“Only so many on earth,” Rachel said, musingly. “And they can’t reproduce…”

“There are ways and ways,” Conner replied. “There will be more. Not that it will matter to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Rachel said, twitching one cheek. “Although, one of my fondest dreams is being the one that tells the Lady about it.”

“Forget those dreams,” Conner said, bluntly. “As soon as your father takes the bait, you’ll be going back to Ropasa. Where… something different awaits.”

“More or less what I expected,” Rachel sighed. “So, in the meantime, what?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I do play chess,” Conner said, pulling out a board. “Care for a game?”

“I can’t imagine you playing chess,” Rachel said, frowning as she sat down. “There’s no way to cheat.”

“Conner is, as far as I’ve been able to determine, my opposite number with New Destiny,” Travante said. He and Sheida were present as avatars for a meeting with Edmund, Shar, Megan and Herzer. “He is… not a general. Probably a criminal before the Fall and now something like the head of their intelligence corps and assassination arranger. It was he, undoubtedly, that set the assassins on you, Duke Edmund.”