Robert Asprin - Wartorn Obliteration

He eyed the two of them, closing the door behind. After a moment he said, "Deserters get executed, I understand."

"That would be the tradition," Radstac said neutrally.

It quirked the man's brow. He seemed to find it amusing. He nodded. "All right. Are you two deserters?"

"Certainly not."

"Does he speak?"

"We're not deserters," Deo said, his tone as calm as Radstac's. Perhaps he, too, sensed that any show of fear before this man would be disastrous. Or maybe he was just following her lead.

"There," the man said. "You're not deserters. See how simple that was? Deserters don't get themselves Far Moved to an occupied city. They sneak off in the night. And they don't abandon an army that's winning fight after uncontested fight." He no longer seemed to be addressing them. He was of medium height and build.

Was he a Felk officer? Radstac wondered. Then why no uniform? He didn't seem like the type of ranking soldier she had encountered in that Felk camp.

"Lieutenant Wesbecht was most upset that you arrived here without orders."

"He's the one with his mouth in a pinch?"

"He is. Wesbecht is an orderly individual. And you two are a couple of untidies. Why is it that you don't have any traveling orders, anyway?"

"We were never issued them," Radstac said.

"And there again. Simplicity. You were verbally ordered into the portal—"

"We were."

"—and in you went. You don't question an order, do you? Of course not. And so you arrive here in Callah without the niggling credentials you need, and whose fault is that? Not yours, obviously. Unlucky circumstances. And worst of all, you've personally done nothing wrong."

The man crossed the office, around the desk, and dropped into the chair. He casually put up his feet, folded his hands over his middle. Radstac and Deo watched and waited.

Finally he spoke again. "I like it. It requires no proof on your parts at all. You were told. You obeyed. Paperwork? You don't know anything about paperwork. I can only guess why a soldier would want to leave the field of action. Wait. That's a flagrant lie. I was in the field. I hated it. I got myself transferred to Sook, and I was much happier there. Had a bed to sleep in, decent food. No marching, no fighting. Callah's far from the action, isn't it?"

"Actually," Deo said, "I for one am not quite sure where this place is."

"This is the empire." Something dark moved in the man's voice. "That's all you need to know."

"Yes, sir."

The man said, "You both give convincing details about troop units and commanding officers. It's a pity you can't name the one who ordered you to be Far Moved."

"She never identified herself," Radstac said.

"Well, that was her prerogative, wasn't it?" The man sighed. "You understand, of course, that something must be done with you. We can't just let you take up space here. Colonel Jesile... he's the governor here... he has handed the matter over to me. He's got enough on his hands. Coincidentally, so have I. I don't really have time for this. The easiest thing to do would be to send you right back where you came from."

Radstac didn't wince. They hadn't been relieved of their weapons. This office had no windows, but if they killed this man, then overpowered the guard or guards outside—

"I could also have you executed. The court-martial would consist of me signing an order. There would be a certain neatness about that. Whatever trouble you've aroused in the smooth running of operations would be over."

Deo nearly spoke up. But he caught himself, shook his head minutely, stayed silent.

"It's really all up to me. And since they've deposited this matter with me, I see no reason why I shouldn't take full advantage of it and benefit myself as best as possible. I haven't introduced myself. Now that I've made up my mind about you, I shall. I am an agent of the Internal Security Corps. It is entirely possible you have never heard of that branch of our empire's operations. I like that anonymity. But it doesn't negate the authority I bear. My job is to sniff out treason and unrest. My methods are up to me. I report to the head of the Corps. This eliminates a great deal of the fuss and nonsense of military life. Currently, here in Callah, I'm on the trail of a group of rebels who I believe are responsible, among other activities, for tampering with local water supplies. It's an important task I have. I intend to be successful at it. I have one other agent presently working with me. It occurs to me that I could use more. Say, two more."

He smiled now.

"My name is Aquint, and this is an opportunity you can't afford to pass up."

Callah didn't look familiar. Then again, Isthmus cities had a dreary sameness about them, so it was remotely possible that Radstac had visited here before. The air was decidedly chilly, and the wind stung her face.

Radstac and Deo had been relieved of their Felk uniforms. She had also given up her sword. The one called Aquint had arranged for it to be stored at the Registry. She still had her boot knives, however; and certainly no one was going to take away her left glove with the two recessed prongs. She had surrendered her leather armor, which was being kept with her combat sword. Coats had been found for her and Deo, civilian wear.

It had all been organized in the space of a single watch, and this was convincing testament of Aquint's authority. None among the Felk who issued her and Deo the proper credentials questioned Aquint's actions. Actually they seemed to regard the Internal Security agent with a certain apprehension.

Aquint had led them, in their new garb, out of the Registry, into Callah's streets. Radstac was perplexed when the agent put his arm into a sling before they departed.

"We'll need cover stories for both of you," he said now as they strode along. There was traffic in the streets, people going about their business. But there were Felk, too, here and there, armed and armored, watching these citizens. Radstac noted a wariness in their eyes, their postures.

"Cover stories?" Deo asked. He, like Radstac, had agreed immediately to Aquint's proposal to join him as agents under his authority. Plainly they'd had no choice.

"You're of fighting age," Aquint said. "Both of you. Why aren't you off at the war?"

Radstac suddenly understood the reason for the sling. They were supposed to blend with this conquered population. They needed plausible grounds for their exemption from conscription.

"You..."—Aquint glanced back at her over a shoulder—"look like you've seen a good amount of combat in your day. Can you fake a limp? With those facial scars that might be all you need." He turned round the other way. "But you... I don't know about you. You're the kind of prime meat they like to put straight into the infantry. Do you have any thoughts? You're being paid to think , not just do."

Radstac looked sidelong at Deo. This had all happened with such improbable speed.

Deo mulled it a moment. "How about this?" he suggested. He let his features go slack, his lips part. His blue eyes dulled. "It'sh a cold day today, ishn't it?" He spoke with a childish slur.

Aquint halted. He faced Deo directly. "You think you can keep that up?"

"Ash long ash I have to."

Aquint nodded. They turned down another street, narrower, less trafficked. Radstac tried out the limp, hitching her right leg slightly. It wasn't much of a chore. Like Deo, she figured she could maintain it indefinitely.

They came to a large ramshackle building that, like many others Radstac had noticed, had flamboyantly constructed eaves. Must be an architectural affectation, she thought. This Callah appeared to be a fairly sizable city, at least by Isthmus standards.

Aquint led them into a front parlor, where he haggled briefly with a plump aging woman with whom he was apparently acquainted. It didn't stop either of them from angling for the best price. When they were done, Aquint handed over a small batch of curiously colored bits of papers, which the house's proprietress accepted as if it were money.