Джеффри Лорд - Return To Kaldak

A fringe of Newtec buildings surrounded the towers, rising to nearly half their height, One was still under construction-Blade saw a steam-powered crane hauling a metal beam aloft. Three of the eighteen streets were now public gardens and one was a market with shops and covered booths along both sides.

A fifth was now the parade ground for the army units quartered in Kaldak. Barracks, warehouses, and garages for the Fighting Machines jostled each other for room on either side. Blade's party went up this street to the headquarters of the High Commander in the tower at the far end.

Sidas had been a well-built, good-looking young warrior. He was still physically impressive, although his brown face was lined and his black hair was turning gray. He'd grown a bushy mustache and added a few pounds from sitting too long behind desks. He'd also added a shrewd, penetrating stare. The stare said plainly that he'd seen practically everything and it wasn't wise to try keeping secrets from him.

For someone in Blade's position, that stare was almost as unpleasant as the Doimari rocket barrage. He would have liked to think the stare was an act, but doubted it. Sidas had been one of the quickest learners among the warriors of Kaldak and must have stayed that way. Otherwise Kareena wouldn't have married him. Now he had all his natural intelligence plus thirty more years of experience. If anyone was likely to pierce the secret of Blade's identity, it would be Sidas.

Sidas walked up and down in front of Blade, Ezarn, and the other four men receiving medals today. He wore a plain green coverall, but his boots were leatherworkers' masterpieces, polished until they shone like glass. They also squeaked like angry mice with every step, until Blade was ready to grit his teeth.

Finally Sidas stopped in front of Blade. His eyes showed no sign of recognition as he pulled a small box out of his belt pouch. «You know the Intelligence people want your hide now?» he said conversationally.

«No, sir. I didn't know.»

«No reason for you to, either. It's secret, and stays that way.» He fixed everyone in the room with a glare which promised death by slow torture for anyone with a loose tongue.

«We didn't learn anything from those Doimari you grabbed. Not an un-Lawful thing! Two of them didn't know anything, and the other died under the truthseer.»

Some sort of hypnotic compulsion, probably, thought Blade. The Doimari must really think their secret weapon is worth protecting. Aloud, he said, «I'm sorry about that, sir.»

«No way you could have known, Voros. No way at all. And that's what I've told the Intelligence people, and if they say anything more I'll throw them all into a pile of munfan dung! So you get the Star of Honor. Here.» He handed the box to Blade. «For heroism, courage, and so on. You and your comrades know how well you did, and I'll leave the pretty words to someone else.» He moved on to the next soldier.

Blade opened the box and saw a seven-pointed bronze star with «Honor» on it in Kaldakan script. He hung it around his neck, glad to have the High Commander's attention turned elsewhere for the moment. The less Sidas saw of him, the happier he would feel.

Right now Blade felt frustrated to the point of anger. He'd suspected that the Doimari might have some protection against interrogation. He'd even thought of mentioning the suspicion to the officers. But the company commander wouldn't have listened. The Intelligence people might have wondered how Private Voros came by this knowledge. Once again, he couldn't do half as good a job as he wanted to, because of the bloody be damned Dimension X secret!

At last Sidas returned to Blade. «Voros,» he said abruptly. «You can go to the Commander's School if you want to. You've got a commander's head on your shoulders. You're a damned fine private, but you'll be better leading a platoon. Even a Company, maybe, before long, if the Tribesmen think Doimari weapons will let them go on fighting us. What do you say?»

«Sir, I'm honored. I accept.»

«I was hoping you'd say that.» They shook hands, and Sidas moved on again. Blade heard him offering equally generous rewards to the other men. One, who'd been badly wounded and was still on crutches, accepted early retirement on full pension. Another wanted a transfer to the Fighting Machine battalion of the City Regiment and got it. Ezarn asked for enough money so that his mother and sister could keep their farm.

Blade knew that he would be in the public eye as an officer cadet, still more as an officer leading troops. However, he was there already, thanks to his insisting on being a hero! Also, he'd passed the test with Sidas. Nobody else in Kaldak was as likely to recognize him. He wasn't safe by a long shot, but he could breathe a little easier.

He also had to admit that he wanted the greater freedom of action which would come with being an officer. As an officer, he wouldn't have to let Doimari take their secrets to the grave because he didn't dare speak up. And he wanted to help find out what the Doimari were up to. If he could help Kaldak without danger to the Dimension X secret, he would do it.

Ezarn came up to Blade outside Sidas's office and gave an exaggerated salute. «Sir, do I have permission to speak, sir?»

«Next time you ask my permission to speak, I won't give it.» Blade growled. His voice was harsher than he'd intended. He'd rather looked forward to having Ezarn's rough comradeship while he was in Kaldak. Now he was going to be all alone again inevitable, perhaps, but even the inevitable can get a little wearing if it happens too often!

«All right. Thing is, this is the first time you and I can hit the taverns together. Also gonna be the last time, without some mother-raping Law-sucker kicking me for it. So let's get some of the boys together and move out.»

«You won't have to drag me, Ezarn.»

A long night of drinking sounded like a good idea. Blade wondered if Kaldakan liquor had improved any in the last thirty years. Even if it hadn't, it would let him forget about the Dimension X secret for a few hours.

The soldiers' tavern was like others Blade had seen in many Dimensions. It was overcrowded, hot, noisy, and smoky. Here in Kaldak the smoke came from something burned in brass pots hung from the ceiling on chains. To Blade it smelled like old rubber tires, but the Kaldakans didn't seem to mind it. He wondered if it was a narcotic, an aphrodisiac, or simply intended to make people get drunk faster so they wouldn't have to go on smelling it!

The brass pots hung so low that Blade had to duck his head to get under most of them. Many of the Kaldakans were short enough not to have this problem, but Ezarn had already knocked himself out. Now he lay snoring quietly in one corner. A comrade mounted guard over him, to keep people from robbing, trampling, or vomiting on him.

Blade had put down several large jugs of beer. The dark-haired girl on his lap kept trying to make him drink hard liquor. He kept refusing. Kaldakan liquor was bad enough straight. Taking it on top of beer-well, he didn't want to show up for his first day at the Commander's School with a history-making hangover.

After a while the girl started to plaster herself against Blade. She was pleasantly curved and felt warm and comfortable against him. It helped that her blouse was now open and her skirt hiked up to mid-thigh, and she wasn't wearing any underclothes.

As her blouse slipped down off her shoulders, Blade saw tattoos on the upper slopes of both breasts. He prodded them with a forefinger.

«Tribe?» he said.

The girl wouldn't meet his eyes. He put a hand under her chin and lifted her head gently until she did. «Yes,» she said finally. «I was taken when I was fourteen. The son of the farmer who bought me freed me when I was twenty. But what could I do with the freedom, except come here?» Blade caught the note of desperate defiance in her voice. She'd swallowed her pride enough to let her earn a living as a tavern whore, but it was still there.