Wine of the Gods 26: Embassy

by Pam Uphoff

  "But you did give an order to shoot?"

  "Specifically, the person—that girl—who was attacking the troops. She was a legitimate military target."

  "Hmm. I'll get on this."

  The joys of electronics were such that they sped everything enormously. His lawyer produced his dress uniform. The first hearing resulted in the dropping of all except three charges. His lawyer mentioned that Captain Ghadir had been arrested for perjury.

  The Court Martial was quite brief. He admitted ordering his gunner to shoot a member of the Dimensional Security forces, specifically Director of Research Quail Quicksilver. As she was at that time engaged in actions against the UE forces, he considered his response reasonable, and that on the charge of attempted murder of a civilian he was innocent. Failing to follow his orders? He had, as ordered, driven through the gate. At that point the situation had changed drastically, rendering the remaining orders . . . impossible. Failing to carry out a direct order from Captain Ghadir? His lawyer pointed out that he had simply delayed to suggest a non-lethal alternative, and that charging him with both shooting and failing to shoot Director Quicksilver was a bit contradictory. The trio of judges conferred. At one point they glanced at the observers from Comet Fall, a grey haired Colonel Wacolm and the middle-aged blonde woman, Captain Parsons. They still returned a not guilty verdict on all charges.

  He walked from there straight to the hearings on the actions of his command. That judge looked bilious, and all the evidence had been given already. Mantigo squeezed in beside Chang, who gave his rank tabs a visual check, then grinned.

  They were arguing points of law. Blaming a misunderstanding of the ordered non-lethal show of force. Arguing whether there had been a legitimate military need to raze the buildings targeted, and whether the Geneva Conventions applied on a world that had had no indigenous population when the Earth discovered it over a century in the past. So the government owns the planet entirely, and can erect or remove buildings at will? Yeah, sure, but not while there are people in them. Which, quite apart from the reason—a show of force—was the crime. In my opinion.

  Not that anyone asked his opinion. But most of the points were addressed.

  In the end only a few specific soldiers were indicted. The remainder cleared of all charges.

  Down at the podium, the paperwork was completed, and court adjourned. The clerks descended on them with paperwork, so to speak, it was all electronic at this point.

  "Right. Now the question is, who do I report to, where'd all my stuff get to since I've been missing for months, and . . . what the hell do I do now?"

  "We already worked through all that. What you do is report into your old command, request barracks space and delivery of your stored goods, which are god knows where. But since your lawyer obviously got them out to find your dress uniform, someone will know."

  Mantigo nodded. "Right. And just how poisonously did they look at you when you reported?"

  Chang grinned. "Very. I've been looking for an apartment but didn't want to commit before the hearing. I suppose I might as well wait and see what my new orders are, right?"

  "That sounds like a good plan."

  ***

  Mantigo's reception was . . . cool.

  No one wanted to touch him.

  "Goatiness is not contagious." He looked his fellow soldiers over.

  "How do you know? They do a lot of Von Neumanns over there. Very dangerous." His commander scowled. "And no one wants you."

  Mantigo bit his lip. Insanity. "Sir. I respectfully request a transfer to the Embassy World Embassy Guard. That would minimize the danger of my spreading any Von Neumanns here."

  "Are you insane? You? The officer who ordered their precious Q killed?" General Ho glared. "They've been carry on like she was royalty."

  "Actually, sir, I've spoken to her and she didn't seem the least bit vindictive or angry." He stared straight ahead. Of course the rest of the Fallen may want my head on a pike.

  Ho shook his head. "I'm sending this on, but I think you are insane."

  A week later he was assigned to detached duty, as liaison to the Department of Interdimensional Security and Cooperation.

  "I'm a dimensional cop? Me?" He reversed his minimal unpacking and found himself back on a familiar plaza the next day, a bright eyed Chang beside him. He glanced at the glass tower, and turned to the black building on the corner. Very imposing, all the black. "Do you suppose their uniforms are all black, too?"

  "Actually the ones I've seen are a dark charcoal grey, with plenty of pockets. Rumor is that the head guy carries a low tech arsenal, throwing knives and such, in his." Chang fairly bounded up the steps, and stopped dead at the sight of a tall man waiting for them.

  "Relax. We don't bite, as a rule. I'm Xen Wolfson. I think we've settled on the title 'Director of Security.' Personally I was in favor of Master of the Multiverse, but they said my head was too swollen already. C'mon, we've got you set up with furniture."

  The building was mostly tan inside, sandstone rather than basalt. The Director led them down a hallway. "All the offices are upstairs, we've got a couple set up for you, you can hunt them down in a bit."

  "And are our co-workers happy with our appointments?" Chang chewed his fingernails as they walked out the back of the building into a sunken garden. There were some oddly shaped buildings on the left side, and houses staggered toward the top of the right side. The geometrically terraced garden dropped to form a long valley down the middle of the housing complex.

  Xen led off to the right. "Err, well it was a mixed bag. It's been an interesting week since the court ruling. These two homes will be yours. In response to cultural pressure, there's even an attached 'bathroom' with a flushing toilet, and a laundry room. Pick whichever you want, the keys should be somewhere in plain sight."

  Mantigo tossed his gear through the second door, and grabbed the key.

  "The large building there across our personal valley is the communal kitchen and dining room. Now that we're moving our families in, we're sort of redesigning it as a restaurant. We may add a grocery store later. And yes, the landscaping is excellent for developing strong leg muscles." Wolfson headed down the steps and Mantigo followed, Chang on his heels.

  "The nursery and school is the next building, it's for Disco personnel. Haer Clostuone there is a licensed teacher on the One World, so the kids are getting a top rated education." He glanced back at them. "Your files said you are both bachelors, no children? That you know of?"

  "Oh, we don't have accidental babies. Very often." Chang shrugged. "All boys get a vas plug at puberty. Girls get an implant that stops their cycles, so they don't have to deal with the mess of natural menses."

  Xen shook his head. "Humph. No wonder you lot are so vicious. No civilizing influences, no sense of a future. Not to mention envying those dirty natives their multiple children."

  Mantigo squirmed. "I didn't shoot any natives, hygienic or otherwise. Just, umm, one of my new colleagues." The steps up were no problem. Apparently time spent as a goat was good for physical fitness.

  "Oh, yes. remind me to show you where the privy cleaning tools are, you'll need them for your first, second, and third assignments."

  A chorus of giggles erupted from a group of kids near the door. Most of them looked away quickly, but one girl with bright red hair walked over and glared at him close up. "If you ever even think about hurting my other mother again, I will eat you." She stalked back to her friends.

  "Twelve years old. The rest of the family has a bit more mature attitude. Wavelength is a bit resistant to the theory that war zones are inherently dangerous, and refuses to consider that the enemy isn't actually individually evil and is capable of feeling regret."

  Mantigo winced. "I'll try to stay out of her way."

  "Can't be done, we're too small a community. Hopefully she'll get over it, like me. really, you're lucky you were an anonymous goat for a while." Xen eyed him. "I suppose you won't believe me if I mention that she's a
shape changing dragon and is not being at all sexual when she threatens to have you for dinner."

  "I assure you, I didn't take that as a sexual overture. I was wondering just what sort of threat it was."

  "Just take it as a death threat. Let's get some lunch, then I'll show you around the office.

  Three very young women apparently ran the communal kitchen, managed the housing and kept the main building clean. Nighthawk, Lapwing, and Kestrel. "They're taking classes on computers from a University on One World, and thinking about attending in person."

  Just like regular people. My new coworkers are going to kill me.

  "So . . . do microwaves cross the gates?"

  "No, or rather not well enough. The Oners have set up laser repeaters to relay phone connections across. So they can chat with friends and family." Xen slanted a glance back at them. "I think Earth has something similar. They think it's a big secret, though."

  Mantigo paused. "Umm . . ."

  "No, no, go ahead and tell them I said that. We're trying to be open and honest. With a dose of one-upsmanship."

  "I see."

  And after an excellent sandwich, it was time to meet all the rest of his new colleagues.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Late Summer 1399

  Embassy

  Chris Hanger watched the men walking toward the Disco building and bit his lip indecisively. "I still don't believe Xen allowed them to assign the second in command of the Earth's attacking forces—the one who ordered his sister shot—to Disco."

  Jiol chuckled. "Welcome to the 'I do not understand the Fallen' Club. C'mon. I want to look this guy over." She trotted down the back staircase.

  The two months he'd been working here had been a mixed bag, some interesting moments over goats, some diplomacy over who did and didn't want a gate opened and how to deal with a government that wanted a gate and a populous that didn't. And some boring times in between, when Xen and Q would train the magic users of any sort, and teach the non-magic users how to recognize when magic was being used on them, and what to do about it. Sommer Albrecht and the two older agents from Warmonger Earth were the only non-magic users around.

  Hanger was definitely the greenest student, including the house cleaning staff and stable boy and girl. But he could now gather power, and hold a shield that would either deflect bullets or absorb the most common frequencies of laser pistols. In theory, with practice, he could do both at once.

  But right now he wanted to check out these two new agents from Warmonger Earth. At least, after their time as goats, they wouldn't be doubting the existence of magic.

  He could hear Xen's voice.

  "I need to check on something, I'll be back in an hour. Jiol, will you show them around?"

  They walked up the stairs, and Hanger watched as Jiol chatted with them.

  "Welcome to Disco. I'm Agent Jiol Withione, just say Jail if the subtleties escape you. This is Agent Chris Hanger, from a slightly different Earth." She turned and walked down the hall. "The front corner is Garit Negue's, then Inso Clostuone's. The back corner room is Xen Wolfson's. The rest of us are in between. In theory, this side is Peacekeeping and Law Enforcement. The other side is Research and Exploration. Xen, Garit and Inso give the orders over here. Q runs the other side. But as you noticed, she's not the least bit hesitant to jump right in and do a bit of peacekeeping when something happens right under her nose. Lon Hackathorn, one of your fellow representatives, is her second in command, so to speak." She opened two doors halfway down the hallway. "These two have furniture, and a whole bunch of reading for you to catch up on. If you leave your doors open, people will feel free to poke their heads in and introduce themselves. And this room was added at the insistence of Chris, here. Help yourself to coffee."

  Abandoned, the two soldiers swapped glances and then looked back at him.

  "I don't operate well without coffee." Hanger said, and walked through to top off his cup. "There are mugs up there. Help yourselves to any of the plain white ones."

  They both took it black. Mantigo, the older and higher ranked one, eyed him curiously. "So, what Earth are you from? And how did you wind up here?"

  "They think we diverged around 2100, when a world-wide but rather low key terrorist-incited multiple-insurgencies type war suddenly went nuclear. I was a Cop, District of Columbia Police, but I quit and was hired here. The assigned agents from my World are both FBI agents. A dimension traveling criminal gang hit our World, and the D-cops helped us . . . well, actually they helped us get home. We still haven't caught the raiders."

  "But, I think I've found them." Q walked in, looking smug. "Captain Mantigo, Lieutenant Chang. Or have I got that backwards? Is it Lieutenant Xian?"

  "No, Ma'am, it's Lieutenant Chang. Er, is the office formal?"

  "Or Agent Chang, I suppose, for a while. Er, no, Xian, we tend to be very informal. Call me Q. I suppose we'll eventually get big enough to have to get formal with titles and hierarchies, but not yet. I'm glad to see you didn't get stuck with the whole smelly mess, Karl. I just wish we could untangle all the political bull, or at least be reasonably sure the Council has finally realized that they can't just tromp around killing people."

  And that's Q, very firmly telling everyone in hearing range that they aren't to pick on these guys. Wait . . . "You said you found the Combat gang?"

  "Well, a World with six permanent gates." She wrinkled her nose. "I promised Xen I would tell him in advance and take some muscle along. Since there's almost thirty of them I suppose that's reasonable. Have you two had time to read up on the cross dimension crime spree? You ought to do that first, as they're who we'll be dealing with really soon now."

  ***

  ". . . babies and kids everywhere, but I swear those witches get out of childbed hornier than hell."

  Easterly leaned back casually. "How many witches? There a limit to how many women even your over inflated ego can claim to have fucked, Cousin."

  "At least a dozen. More if yah include t'servants. An I did."

  "Yeah, right, Tyrone." Easterly was finding his cousin easy to get talking, no interrogation skills needed beyond knowing the man all too well. "No doubt after you beat up twice that many wizards and mages."

  "Beat them up? Nah, they're real party boys, I swapped some spells with them that'd knock your socks off, if you were magic." Tyrone sneered and radiated superiority. "Some of the girls came along, so there were as many men as women. And the wine flowed and we fucked all night long."

  Easterly snorted. "These people have any names? Where are they from?"

  Tyrone reeled off a bunch of names, some recognizable, some not, all with salacious information attached. And superstitious nonsense. ". . . Mag's a Sea King, but he made a bad mistake when he bargained with the Sea Hag. He asked to be safe from men's control—poor sot left out the women, see? They can do anything they want with him. Them and that Rior. I told Mag he was probably a woman turned into a man, like Nabelle, and he got all excited about it, said that explained why he could control him."

  Easterly nodded his understanding. "Nabelle hasn't changed back?" He couldn't recognize most of his family, these days. "Or, umm, Haro?"

  "Nah, he makes too much dancing. Did you know he had a baby, birthed it like a woman."

  Tyrone sounded horrified. Easterly was a bit horrified himself. The days of merely being disgusted by his lazy good-for-nothing cousins were starting to look golden.

  "So, they got a village over there?" Easterly had the Earther's descriptions, but figured another perspective wouldn't hurt.

  "Nah, they've got a mansion bigger than those things on Ericka's Ridge."

  "Give you a tour, did they?"

  Tyrone wasn't the most observant person in the World, but Easterly teased out a general idea of where the kitchen and dining room were, where people slept, stairways and doors to the outside, privy, barn . . . "Sounds like it's big enough for twice the people there."

  Tyrone laughed. "They got so many babies they do
this thing with these bubbles, and just store them. Freaky. But it beats having to listen to them squall all the time. I told them we had herbs and such so women didn't get pregnant, and they seemed to think we were cheating somehow, not paying for their fun. I figure they're going to pay big time, when they finally take all their brats out of bubbles and have to raise them all."

  Easterly made a mental note to have Xen or Q search the premises for bubbles after they had the gang under control.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Late Summer 1399

  Embassy

  Garit eyed the planning committee as they sat down. Hideously eager. But I have more sense. Right?

  "As best as we can tell, we're looking at sixteen trained magic users, five young teenage witches who may or may not be trained, nine unknowns, and a pot load of children and babies who are probably too young to be magic, and who may or may not be capable of magical attack."

  Inso narrowed his eyes. "We've got five magicians and a half dozen others. We're going to need help."

  "Yes. I think Magic Central, the small troop I've been working with, and . . . perhaps some of those infamous Action Teams of yours would like to get some experience in magical battle against Fallen Magicians?"

  Jiol nodded. "I'm sure they will also want to send observers."

  Garit shrugged. "So long as they wait until the fighters are through."