War Games Page 4

  “I believe it’s part of every citizen’s duty to progress the Empire’s aims.”

  Did people even believe that any more?

  “You could do that behind the front,” Cheloi countered. “Behind the Nineteen. We have the highest casualty rates of any territory on Menon.”

  Maybe she could persuade Yinalña to request a transfer herself? Koul would lose. She would regain her focus.

  “I know. Colonel Grakal-Ski explained all that to me.”

  Did he? Cheloi willed her eyebrows not to launch into the stratosphere.

  “But I still told him I wanted to be assigned to Territory Nineteen.”

  Nothing. Yinalña wasn’t giving her anything to work with.

  “Were you Commander Mazhin’s aide?” Cheloi asked, trying a different tack.

  “Er, no.”

  Finally! Some hesitation. Cheloi locked onto the falter like a missile on a heat-source.

  “I was with the Commander’s staff in an auxiliary position. But,” Lith hurriedly stressed, “in addition to being a competent engineer, I have also driven most classes of vehicles currently in operation on Menon and am familiar with a commander’s routine. Colonel Koul thought those skills would be useful.”

  Rumis snorted. “Nice of him to think of the Commander’s needs after all this time.”

  Cheloi couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips, knowing it had a cynical tilt to it. She had lost her last aide two months ago in the same accident that had injured her leg. Had it really been a stray rebel missile? Or something else? The investigation had cleared her second-in-command but her doubts remained.

  For the time being, Cheloi was conceding defeat. There were too few data points. She would have to wait for the detailed dossier to come through and keep her eyes open in the meantime.

  “Your skills are exactly what I need,” she interjected smoothly. “And I’m glad to have you as a member of my staff.”

  “Major Swonnessy was briefing me on my duties.”

  I bet he was.

  “He said I’m to be your driver, oversee your wardrobe and act as general, er, errand-runner.”

  “I mentioned that you’re still recovering from your injury, Commander,” Rumis added, “and so need someone to do courier work for you even within the HQ complex.”

  “I’m happy to do that,” the young officer said.

  From the way Yinalña’s voice changed, Cheloi knew she was looking from Rumis to her.

  “You didn’t have much military experience prior to the Menon campaign,” Cheloi said, drawn back to her previous train of thought.

  “None,” she agreed.

  “Yet….”

  Yinalña anticipated the obvious question. “Why did I request assignment at the front? My family thought it was stupid of me but I felt a driving need to do something to help the Empire. And it was a way to get some independence from my parents.”

  Cheloi heard the shy laughter in her voice. Here, under a cloak of darkness, if she just controlled her own expression, she could enjoy Yinalña’s rich voice without any painful facts intruding. Cheloi stopped listening to the words, letting only the musical voice with its myriad intonations wash over her. What if they were somewhere else? What if she wasn’t a combat officer with the Perlim Empire and Yinalña wasn’t an aide appropriated by Koul? Under such conditions, was there even the slightest chance in the cold, vast universe that Yinalña would be attracted to her?

  “Colonel?”

  It was only when Rumis repeated the word for the second time that Cheloi realised Yinalña had stopped talking. She turned and gestured to the two officers with a casual flick of her finger.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking over the latest orders from Central Control.”

  Liar!

  “Rumis, perhaps you’d like to show the lieutenant where we normally take our evening meals? I’ll not join you tonight. Have a tray sent to my quarters instead.”

  She heard the scuffing as two sets of shoes moved to attention.

  “Yes, Senior Colonel!”

  Cheloi stayed in the bubble until she knew the stars that had begun their journey at the horizon were edging almost to the black sky’s zenith.

  She needed to remember why she was here and it was all because of the Fusion. The Perlim Empire was overplaying its hand because of the Fusion. It used and encouraged brutal techniques and heartless efficiencies because of the Fusion. And Menon IV was haemorrhaging blood because of the Fusion.

  This was the one rare area where she and Koul were in complete agreement. The Fusion was the ahnol-muncher that the Empire was reacting to while pretending it didn’t exist, the Emperor ordering battalion after battalion of his troops to land on the planet’s surface, daring the atmosphere to smash the transports into hard rock. He commanded his soldiers to eat dirt and carry out up-close-and-personal attacks and counter-attacks against the tenacious Menon rebels, apparently mindless of the high casualty rates. And he did this to set an example to the Fusion, to show them that the ageing Perlim Empire was still a force to be reckoned with.

  Screw strategy, the Empire was willing and crazy enough to take on the Fusion in an orgy of bloodletting and it didn’t care who in the galaxy knew it. Never mind that it wasn’t true. Appearance was everything.

  If Cheloi put the importance of Territory Nineteen together with the proximity of Yinalña’s home-world to the dreaded Fusion, she knew the loyalty of her new aide could not be taken for granted. On the other hand, Koul was the most patriotic officer she knew. If he had vetted Yinalña, then there was a good chance there was nothing sinister and Fusion-like to find. The problem was, there was something niggling at her, an intuition that she knew better than to ignore.

  What was Yinalña doing in the misogynistic and homophobic Perlim military? With her intelligence, she and her talents were completely wasted. She must know that. Was her joining the military an act of rebellion against her rich parents, as her truncated details intimated, rather than one of patriotism?

  And how should she read her possible liaison with Rumis? As an unwanted fraternisation to be disciplined? Or something she should encourage as a way to keep Yinalña as far away from her as possible?

  Cheloi was already juggling enough balls in the air and hardly needed another, especially one as exquisitely shaped as her driver. She had to keep her eye on Wakor, and remember that he and Koul were old friends. She had to keep Vanqill in one piece because he was key to her plans, if he but knew it. She had to find a way to mollify and short-circuit Koul and any game he had currently set running. And she had to carry out Central Control’s orders to their satisfaction. She had no time to think of anything else, certainly not Rumis working up the courage and opportunity to kiss her aide. In a moment of weakness, Cheloi tried inserting herself into that picture instead, but the image was chill and stiff, lacking vibrancy.

  Maybe this war had taken more out of her than she thought.

  Her dinner was cold by the time she limped back to her quarters but she ate it anyway, and turned in with a tired grimace.

  Chapter Three

  Day 1,501 of the War:

  Lith faced the featureless door to the Colonel’s quarters and stared hard at it. It was five minutes to the hour when she would officially begin her first day as Cheloi Sie’s driver and aide. She knew she should be requesting access but she didn’t want to enter those quarters. It was more than nerves. It was fear.

  She swallowed and looked around, trying to give the impression that she had only just arrived at the door and was straightening her uniform. Thankfully, the corridor was still empty. At this hour, most of the soldiers were either in the canteen enjoying their breakfasts or catching some sleep after coming off night duty. Thirty minutes ago, Lith had tried to join the noisy crowd who were busy eating, but her morning meal congealed like a lump of rock in her stomach. She finally disposed of the half-eaten meal with a grimace of distaste before walking back to her quarters to fetch her jacket.

 
The Major had told her the day before that space limitations meant that the Colonel’s anteroom also functioned as her office. Blue sector had been like that too…but Blue sector hadn’t contained Cheloi Sie. Just thinking about walking into the personal territory of the Nineteen’s commander was enough to make her fingers tremble.

  The sound of approaching footsteps finally gave her the courage she needed. She jabbed at the access panel with a rigid thumb.

  “Come in.”

  Sie looked up as Lith walked through the door. She was seated behind a desk. Lith scanned the room quickly, noting the cramped but tidy arrangement of furniture. To her right, a doorway loomed, probably leading to the Colonel’s bedroom. She swallowed and faced front again.

  “Senior Lieutenant Lith Yinalña reporting,” she said smartly, matching words to a crisp salute, her gaze focused on some imaginary object fifty metres in front of her.

  “Relax, Lieutenant,” Sie told her, after a small pause. “I’m just finishing up something. I’ll be with you in a second.”

  Lith allowed her hand to drop to her side, taking advantage of the relative peace to observe the Colonel more closely. Cheloi Sie exuded a palpable air of power, her movements measured and confident. Lith watched the dexterous fingers as they flicked through a small stack of flimsies before moving to the adjacent keyboard, punching out something with the speed if not the full skill of a trained typist. She muttered to herself when she made a mistake.

  So, there were things that even the great Cheloi Sie couldn’t do. Somehow, that made her seem more approachable. The tremors in Lith’s fingertips subsided.

  The Colonel was dressed in her uniform with the jacket fully buttoned. She looked formidable, but Lith noticed the small creases cascading down her left sleeve and the crooked placement of the scar-raptors on her shoulders. She could only guess how the otherwise immaculate commander regarded such laxity and repressed a small surprised smile.

  Sie finished whatever it was she was doing and transferred her attention to Lith in time to see the slight curve of her lips.

  “Has something amused you, Lieutenant?” The words were strict, but the tone flensed them of bite. There was only friendly curiosity in those dark eyes and a mirroring curve of her lips.

  All of a sudden, Lith was struck by how open she looked in that moment. Not a cipher or even the emblem of a hated occupation, but a person in her own right. And an attractive one, at that. It was the lock of hair that rebelliously fell forward over her right eyebrow and the air of restrained scruffiness. Her eyes were warm, her fingers lean and capable, her aura one of competence. Lith had expected none of these things. All the characteristics together, wrapped in one living package, were like a punch to a nerve plexus.

  “It was nothing, Colonel,” she said. “A mere whimsy on my part. Please forgive my inattention.”

  The apology was accepted with a quick nod. “I believe Major Swonnessy briefed you yesterday on your duties.”

  “Yes Colonel, he did.”

  “And do you think you’re up to the tasks? Aide to a sector commander is one thing, but aid to a territory commander can be much more frenetic.”

  “I think I’m capable of handling anything you can dole out, Colonel.”

  The words sank between them before Lith realised their impertinence. The Colonel’s eyebrows rose. Embarrassed, Lith lifted a hand to her mouth.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  Sie raised a hand. “No matter. Let’s move on to less, controversial subjects.” Her lips quirked as she reviewed a flimsy, but Lith pretended not to notice. This Colonel Sie was too civilised for her liking. It was too easy to let her guard down around her.

  “I’m sure Rumis—Major Swonnessy—told you that part of your duties is to tour the sector’s medical facilities. In addition to supervising any special requests, you are also to distribute the minor citations and record commendations. I tend to reserve the medal awards for a monthly ceremony held here at HQ.”

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  “Do you know the location of all the territory’s medical facilities?”

  “Er,” Lith thought furiously. “I’m familiar with those in Blue sector, of course,” she began, “but as for the others….”

  “I would have been surprised if you had,” Sie told her as she petered off into silence. “Central Control considers the locations to be military secrets. I’ll get the Major to forward you a map of the facilities so you can familiarise yourself with them.”

  “Thank you.”

  The Colonel cocked her head to one side. “I have to say, Lieutenant, you’re not at all what I think of when I consider the typical characteristics of a junior Perlim officer.”

  Her gaze was direct but there was something else in those bitter chocolate depths besides the impersonal frankness. A certain heat, a tingle of physical awareness. Lith felt it zipping between them and it made her flush.

  “I’m sorry, Colonel. I don’t believe I follow you.”

  “Your dossier outlined your family’s background on Laeyek Omni B. It’s unusual, because the children of well-to-do Perlim families don’t usually volunteer for military service.”

  “Maybe they just need the proper encouragement,” Lith replied.

  “And what do you think that might be?”

  You.

  The errant thought startled her and Lith felt her eyes widen. In front of her, observing every flicker of emotion that flashed across her face, the Colonel watched carefully. Her eyes betrayed a quick blaze that was gone in a flash.

  “The, the reasons for public service,” Lith said in a rush, in a room that seemed to contain too little air, “are as varied as the people themselves. I think. I mean, I’m sure.”

  But the Colonel didn’t seem to be listening. There was such a hot intensity in her gaze that it deepened the previously receding flush along Lith’s cheekbones. She felt the heat slash across her face and quelled the urge to wipe the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. A strange flickering erupted chaotically in her belly, as if her stomach had somehow been temporarily isolated and shoved into a zero-gravity field.

  The two women looked at each other.

  No, she can’t be looking at me like that! As if she…she wants me.

  Lith tried to conjure up a sense of distaste, some protective shield of contempt but couldn’t. She swallowed.

  The shrill call of the comms console finally broke the frozen tableau and both exhaled quickly, as if suddenly free of an unexpected enchantment.

  A man’s voice erupted from the speaker, and Sie reached quickly for the earpiece, jamming it in her ear and dismissing Lith with a languid wave.

  “Uniforms,” she mouthed, before redirecting her attention to a point in midair. “Yes, Chinwoh, what can I do for you?”

  Lith fled.

  Day 1,502 of the War:

  “So what do you think of her?”

  Cheloi knew she was only taunting herself by talking to Rumis about the matter, but there was method in her madness.

  “I like her,” he said simply.

  His head was still bent, tallying the supply and expenditure figures for the territory, so he didn’t see the fond look Cheloi directed at his dark head.

  In only three years, Rumis Swonnessy had grown into a brother-substitute for Cheloi. She had picked him out of junior officer drudgery during the dying days at the Thirty-Five, promoted and mentored him during her tour at the Eight and he arrived, sparkling and efficient, as her adjutant at the Nineteen. She appreciated his decorative qualities but also warmed to his sense of humour, air of calm, and honesty. It was ironic that she should value what she herself could not share.

  By rights, the both of them should have been working in a separate office complex, one focused on the administrative tasks at hand. But the Empire, already reeling from an increasingly expensive war that it had instigated, was not about to manufacture more cavern space for rooms that would remain empty for half of each day. Cheloi had to accep
t that her office was part of her quarters. In any case, being an officer of the Empire meant that one had to give up all pretensions to a slab of personal space. The policy stood whether someone was off planet or on one. Only the Emperor and the stratum below him, that layer of high-level policy-makers that included Central Control, were entitled to cubic metres of emptiness. If she was honest with herself, the lack of space, and its subsequent privacy, was beginning to drive Cheloi crazy.

  Despite the constrictions, she had managed to wedge a desk, some chairs and a bureau into the small subterranean space. Three steps in any direction met either a door or a piece of furniture, but she was pleased that she managed to pack everything vital to how she operated into the one compact area. The privacy she was going to have to do without. At least, until she was off the planet. Hopefully, that day wasn’t too far away.

  “Don’t you find it suspicious that Colonel Grakal-Ski found her?” she asked.

  He did look up then, his eyes crinkling with a touch of humour.

  “I did consider that, but Lith doesn’t seem the type to sympathise with the Colonel. She’s too,” he searched for a word, “open.”

  Still, wouldn’t that be something a twisted Koul Grakal-Ski might have considered? Mightn’t he have deliberately looked for someone so obviously his psychological opposite as a ploy to get around Cheloi’s defences? She couldn’t discount the possibility, which made what she had to say to Rumis that much more painful.

  “Maybe you should shadow her,” she said. “Find out how she thinks. You’re due to do the hospital rounds tomorrow. Why not take her with you and start training her on her duties? She can take over when you’re satisfied.”

  The smile that split Rumis’ face expressed unfeigned delight and Cheloi clenched her jaw to stop her teeth gnashing.

  “If you insist, Colonel.”

  “Our casualty figures are up,” she said abruptly, and curbed a burst of satisfaction when Rumis sobered. She scanned the figures across several flimsies arrayed horizontally across her desk and frowned. “Hmmmm. I see the same number of sorties throughout the Nineteen. No flare-up of rebel incidents. Yet we’re taking a hit. What intel do we have?”