Daniel Polansky - Tomorrow, the Killing

Galliard chortled, then fell silent.

I stood to leave. ‘Well then, I’ve my duties to attend to, as I imagine you’ve yours.’

The captain lifted his corpulent buttocks from his chair and shook my hand. ‘Quite right, quite right. See you next week.’

‘Next week,’ I agreed, and found myself out.

9

I wasn’t expecting to come back to the Earl and find Hroudland and Rabbit waiting for me at the bar. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have showed – I’d have found my way to the docks, lit up a twist and hoped for a breeze.

They were the only people in there, the rest of the coterie out for the morning, trying to take care of a day’s worth of errands before the sun made travel too uncomfortable. That meant I wouldn’t be able to count on Adolphus’s muscle if things went sour – but it also meant I didn’t have to bother with any pretense of amiability. ‘What the fuck do you want?’

Rabbit belched out a giggle, and Hroudland answered me with an easy lilt to his voice. ‘You know, Lieutenant, there’s really no need to begin the conversation in such a combative fashion.’

‘I suppose that’s something else we’ll need to disagree on.’ I rolled up a cigarette. The flare of the match was an unnecessary aggravation in the heat. ‘Let me make it easy on you, because I know dialogue isn’t your strong point. Adolphus ain’t here.’

‘Not looking for Adolphus,’ Rabbit piped in, a smile swelling his lips, looking for all the world like a child spoiled with a secret. ‘We’re here for you.’

‘Why, Rabbit, is that you over there? You cheeky devil, hiding in the back, so quiet I’d never even notice! And then you start dribbling nonsense and ruin the whole effect! You don’t want to see me, Rabbit, because I don’t want to see you. I was fairly clear on that point, last time we spoke.’

Rabbit laughed again, laughed and blushed, and Hroudland took over the reins. ‘The big man wants a word with you.’

‘I’m not sure who you’re referring to.’

‘Commander Joachim Pretories.’

‘Is he really what you’d call big? Guess we’ve got a different sense of scale.’

‘I don’t want to argue with you, Lieutenant.’

‘Well, I’m in no mood to dance, Hroudland – and since you don’t want to argue and I don’t want to dance, I’m not sure what’s left for us.’

‘The commander just wants a few minutes of your time. Surely that’s not such a sacrifice.’

‘You haven’t factored in the opportunity costs – a few minutes of my time is like a decade to you or Rabbit. Who knows all the extraordinary things I could do with a half hour? Write a sonnet maybe, or find a cure for the flux.’ I shook my head. ‘If you think about it that way, it’s actually quite a lot that you’re asking – more than I feel like offering.’

‘The commander said I was to insist.’

‘He said you were to insist now, did he? You hear that, Rabbit? The two of you are supposed to insist.’

‘That’s what the captain said,’ Rabbit agreed.

‘That’s what he said all right.’ I stubbed out my smoke. ‘You so sure you could compel my attendance?’

‘No,’ Hroudland said. ‘Not at all. Which is why I’m hoping you’ll do the smart thing, and come for a little walk with us, rather than push this into a direction it doesn’t need to go.’

That was in fact the smart thing to do, even if it was Hroudland saying it. And if Hroudland wasn’t sure he and Rabbit could force my attendance, I wasn’t sure they couldn’t. And it would be a damn stupid thing to die over, because I felt like taking the weather out on two men I vaguely disliked.

‘You’ll buy me an ice on the way over, Rabbit?’

Rabbit laughed, the same as he had with death thick in the air. ‘Lieutenant wants to know if I’ll buy him a ice!’

Rabbit was an easy audience. It was one of his few positive qualities.

The Association for the Advancement of the Veterans of the Great War – or the Veterans’ Association if you were a fan of brevity, or simply the Association if you were really obsessed with the concept – was an institution claiming to represent those unfortunate souls who had found themselves manning the trenches during the Empire’s last foray into mass suicide. It was founded by Roland Montgomery six months after the Humbling of Donknacht loosed a quarter of a million former soldiers back upon the homeland they had killed to protect. When Roland died two years later, it had been taken over by his long-time second, Joachim Pretories, and he’d spent the interim turning it into a respectable political power. For all its pretensions it was a typical corporate entity, nominally advocating for the rights and privileges of its members, in practice cadging for the few lucky souls at the top.

For a while it had been something else. But then things used to be different all over, back in the day.

They headquartered in an old banking house in Offbend, a few stones’ throw from the Old City, or one really good throw for those well practiced in throwing stones. It was a beautiful structure, four floors of white brick on a cobblestone square. A wooden platform had been erected in the middle of the arcade, a focal point for their frequent rallies. A handful of men stood stiffly outside the entrance, their attempts at loitering spoiled by too many years in the ranks. They nodded at my escort and allowed us inside.

‘I’ll tell the commander you’re here,’ Hroudland said, disappearing into the back. I took the time to inspect my surroundings.

The entrance hall was big enough to hold a few hundred people, though at present there were barely a dozen occupying it – apart from me and Rabbit, there were a handful of men seated at a long wooden table, waiting to cater to the needs of paying members. Trophies of our conflict hung on the wall, captured pennants and Dren weaponry, tapestries depicting major battles. I spent a moment inspecting these last, though I had trouble recognizing myself in the ranks of proud spearmen chasing the fleeing enemy into the distance, or in the mounted officers leading the charge. Hung over a huge fireplace was a portrait of the Association’s founder, staring down at his children, blue eyes stern but supportive.

His father’s name could have earned him a spot away from the front line and the dangers of combat, but that hadn’t been Roland’s way. Indeed, no promotion seemed sufficient to force him back from the front. By the time I’d met him he was well on his way from man to myth, and if the first had ended three years after the armistice, face down in the Low Town mud, the second had only continued to grow. A decade on and his was still a name to conjure with amongst anyone who’d ever served in the ranks.

Hroudland opened the back door and waved at us. Rabbit and I followed him down a narrow corridor, up a flight of stairs and past several more watchmen, stopping in front of the commander’s quarters. ‘Through here,’ Hroudland said. ‘When you’re done we’ll take you back to your bar.’

‘Rough neighborhood like this, I need someone to protect my virtue.’

Hroudland shook his head, glad to have me off his hands. He opened the door and I headed inside.

Soldiering is not a profession that lends itself toward the glorification of violence, nor of those who practice it. The flux kills more men in an hour than the most skilled warrior could account for in the entirety of his bloody existence, and no amount of bravery or strength is proof against a stray artillery shot. Afterward, trying to impress a girl in a tavern, you might spin a yarn about some squadmate who could down a dozen Dren single-handed, might even say that squadmate was you. But at the time, while it mattered, you knew all that was nonsense. One sword doesn’t swing the outcome of a battle – there were too damn many of us for any particular individual to play much import. A man was either solid – which was to say if he was next in line when you went over the top, you didn’t check to make sure he followed – or he wasn’t, in which case you hoped he’d die soon and leave the rest of the squad his rations. Anything beyond that was fodder for the broadsheets back home.