John Ringo: Against the Tide

“Oh,” Van Krief said, looking thoughtful.

“She’s also been gone for a year or more,” Herzer continued. “And she might turn up in another year, or a decade, expecting that we’ll take up where we left off as if she had never been gone. Or she might be standing by the side of the road on the way to the conference, expecting to hitch a ride. Sometimes I expect her at any moment. Like… now,” he ended sadly.

“God, I hope not,” Edmund muttered.

“As I said,” Herzer said with a grin. “She’s often quite irreverent. I’m sure she would scandalize the admirals.”

“I’m thinking of the admirals’ wives,” Edmund muttered again, looking out the window with a pained expression.

“Are you… monogamous, sir?” Destrang asked, clearly not looking at the ensign at his side.

“No,” Herzer replied. “I don’t know if Bast is when she’s gone or not, I wouldn’t bet one way or the other. I certainly don’t expect her to be and I’m not even when she’s around. Nor does she encourage me to be or even discourage other liaisons. She’s… incredibly open about sex and as uninterested in conventions about it as she is in all the rest of the rules she breaks.” He grinned and shrugged. “The term ‘drunkard’s dream’ comes to mind.”

“Sounds like it,” Tao said.

“Mine,” Herzer replied with a grin. “Or not. Bast is entirely Bast’s. As she has said before, she will still be young when I die of old age, assuming I last that long. But if you ever meet her, don’t think that you’ll woo her. She walks in and points and crooks a finger. She’s quite immune to charm, dislikes it in fact.”

“I’ve met elves,” Van Krief said, suddenly. “She doesn’t sound like any elf I’ve met.”

“She’s not a high elf,” Edmund replied. “Which is who you have met before. I’m not sure there are any other wood elves besides Bast. She might even have been a one off, rather than a production model.”

“You make it sound as if she was made in a factory,” Tao said. “I thought the elves were a Change race, like the mer.”

“An assumption that, if you ever make it in one’s hearing, will get you a very cold shoulder indeed,” Duke Edmund replied, seriously. “The elves are a race of created super-warriors. They were made by the North American Union when it was facing a series of small, ugly wars, in the days leading up to Consolidation. It was discovered in the early twenty-first century that humans produce an internal sedative in response to stress. The best of the warriors of Norau had limited uptake of the sedative. Since they didn’t panicÑor succumb to post-stress syndromeÑboth of which could lead to unpleasantness and atrocities in combatÑthe elves were created with enhanced production.” He grinned faintly and looked out the window. “But they’re not Changed. They’re not even vaguely human, for all they look that way.”

“If the elves ever got a case of the ass,” Herzer warned, “humans would be extinct in short order. And if you ever piss one off, personally, cut your own throat. It’ll be quicker and far more pleasant.”

“That explains the elves I met,” Van Krief said, her eyes glazing a bit at the memory. “They were so… calm. Delightfully calm.”

“Drugged to the gills,” Herzer said, chuckling. “But, yes, they are intelligent and beautiful and delightfully calm.”

“Sir,” Destrang said, greatly daring. “Charles… he had…”

“Pointed ears,” Edmund said, nodding. “Dionys had pushed the protocols as far as he could to add elven enhancements. Further, really. He was protected and aided, although we didn’t know it at the time, by Marshal Chansa, then one of Paul’s faction on the Council and now the head of the Ropasan armed forces.”

“The one time I saw an elf pissed was at McCanoc,” Herzer said. “That was before the Fall. I don’t know what happened to him after, though?”

“Had to be Gothoriel,” Edmund said. “he was the Rider of the Eastern Reach, basically the guy that the Lady left out in this area of Norau to make sure we weren’t getting up to too much mischief. He got cut off by the Fall when the Lady closed Elfheim. I haven’t seen him, but Bast said she had.”

“Elfheim, General?” Tao said. “I’m starting to get one of my headaches.”

“Too much for you, Ensign?” Edmund said with a grin. “Elfheim is an artificial dimension that the elves opened when they decided that living in the world was just too dangerous all around. Humans never really took to elves very well, and vice versa. Too many differences. Things that enrage humans the elves care less about and things that enrage elves humans tend to be able to ignore. The Lady withdrew and so did the majority of the elves. There’s no proscription, though, they can come and go, at least they could until the recent unpleasantness. Then the Lady turned off the portals to Elfheim and stated that there would be no transfer in either direction. This cut off her eyes among the humans, as well.”

“Are they on our side, sir?” Tao asked.

“No, son, they’re not,” Edmund said. “But they’re not on the side of New Destiny, either. I’m not really sure I want them on our side; they’re too likely to do things for reasons I don’t understand. But I know I don’t want them fighting for New Destiny. Can’t imagine they would. But if New Destiny wins, if they manage to capture all the power systems and take over the world, you can bet they’ll try to take the Lady on. That will be a battle to watch. Of course, at that point we’ll all be dead or Changed.”

They traveled for two days in the stuffy confines of the coach, changing horses at regular intervals and stopping not even to rest, traveling at night by the light of coach lanterns. Halfway through the first day they left the Via and started on the road to Newfell to the south. This was a road made since the Fall, for all it was on an ancient roadbed, and it was dreadful in comparison; rutted, filled with potholes and barely touched with gravel where it wasn’t pure dirt.

Conversation had languished after the first burst, the ensigns perhaps a bit surprised at their temerity. Edmund got from them that they came from almost equilateral points in the UFS. Tao was from the plains far to the west, Destrang hailed from the northeast coast and Van Krief was from the coast of the gulf to the southwest.

“We lived on a spring-fed river that led to the Gulf,” she said, looking out the window. “When the Fall came my dad was diving someplace, you know, you never know where. And then he was gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Herzer had said, looking anywhere but at the young ensign.

“We survived,” she said, shrugging. “There were fish and orange trees. Alligator is pretty tasty. We got by. Mom’s still down there. What about your parents, sir?”

“I don’t know where they were,” Herzer said, his tone hard, then he shrugged. “We hadn’t seen each other since a few years before the Fall. My messages…” He paused and shrugged. “We weren’t close,” he said, more or less closing off the conversation.

Finally, after what seemed an interminable journey, they pulled to a stop at a guard shack and at a word from Edmund were waved through. It was the deep of the night but the Navy base seemed barely affected; personnel, carts and material were moving in a constant stream from one area to another. The road they were on was lit by lanterns every dozen yards or so and there were more over the doors of the buildings so the scene was relatively well lit.

They pulled into the portico of what looked like a large house and Edmund opened his door, stepping down to the lantern-lit entry-walk.