East of the Sun, West of the Moon tcw-4

by John Ringo

  “Yes, sir,” Destrang said, sighing.

  “They also use ships through the delta,” T noted. “We managed to capture one of the sailors. However, when we started to interrogate him, a mark on his forehead flashed red and he died, rather horribly.”

  “Shit,” Destrang said, shaking his head.

  “So, tell Herzer that it’s unlikely that I’ll know what she is going to throw at him until, maybe, the last moment. I have observers around some of the reactors that they will use for extraction, but reporting back will be difficult. I will try to get the information, but I have a finite number of teams that are capable of what these men do and I won’t throw them away lightly.”

  “Yes, sir,” Destrang said.

  “Stygia is an enigma wrapped in a puzzle,” T mused. “I have no idea where Celine resides, where her labs are or, for that matter, how the place is organized. But I suspect the answer is: Horribly.”

  “We’ll know when we win, sir,” Destrang said.

  “Yes,” T said. “And I suspect we won’t want to. We’re done here, get back to Herzer. All of the information is his or Miss Travante’s ears only.”

  “Yes, sir,” Destrang said, standing up.

  “The colonel will show you out.”

  “Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, then paused. “Sir, is he a real colonel?”

  “He is now,” T replied. “I had him appointed when he got back from the recon mission in Stygia.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m glad there was a portal,” Megan said as they stepped through the mirrorlike doorway.

  “Otherwise you’d have to have made one?” Herzer asked, chuckling. The exit point was in the Seventh Legion’s camp, which was set in a valley in central Sylania, not far from the Sussan River. The camp was flanked to the east and west by high ridges but they were at least five klicks away. The camp was crowded with legionnaires training and tending to chores but the first thing they saw was a group of officers standing stiffly to attention. Clearly they were expected.

  “Countess Travante,” a brigadier general in the lead of the group said, rendering a salute and then dropping it. “I’m General Eyck. A pleasure to have you in Camp Devil.” As he finished the introduction the officers accompanying him dropped to parade rest, clearly on cue.

  “The pleasure is all mine, General,” Megan said, taking his hand. “You know Commander Herrick?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure, ma’am,” the general said, nodding at Herzer. “May I present my officers?”

  “Of course,” Megan replied.

  Each of the officers was duly introduced and Megan shook hands and nodded as Herzer stood back and cooled his heels. Finally, the formalities were over and the general gestured towards the command tent.

  “I’ve prepared refreshments, Countess,” he said, beaming. “And I was wondering if a brief tour of the camp…”

  “General, we just came from Washan,” Megan pointed out. “We’re quite refreshed. And we have our first briefing scheduled in less than an hour. While I’m sure I’d be fascinated by your command, I’m afraid that with our time constraints…”

  “I understand, of course,” the general said, somewhat stiffly. “I wasn’t aware that you were going to be part of the briefings…”

  “General,” Herzer interjected, “with all due respect, all information regarding this mission is classified and, sir, with all due respect, you don’t have need-to-know. There may be a later time that might be better.”

  “Of course, Commander,” the general said.

  “If we could get a guide to the training facilities?” Megan asked, placatingly.

  “Lieutenant,” the general snapped, pointing to one of his aides. “Direct Countess Travante and Commander Herrick to the training facilities.”

  “Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, bowing to Megan and gesturing down one of the streets of the crowded camp.

  “Herzer?” Megan said, as they followed the aide, trailed by Van Krief, Mirta and Shanea. “Military politics issue here?”

  “I think the answer is: it’s complicated,” Herzer replied. “First of all, I suspect the general thought you were accompanying me, not a part of whatever is going on and, therefore, had all the time in the world. Second, he’s justifiably proud of his command. Seventh is listed as having a very high level of training; he’s pushed them hard. And with the possible exception of Duke Edmund, I doubt that any Key-holders have inspected it and given him the ego-boos he’d like. Taking a look around at some point would be politic. Third, I doubt very much that he likes having to move his camp to protect the training facility. I’m not even sure he knows what we’re training for.”

  “There’s that,” Megan admitted as they came to what was effectively a camp within a camp. The facility was protected by a standard trench and wall palisade with a wooden gate. The palisade had a high, thin, wood wall so that no one from outside the camp, except on the surrounding hills, could see what was going on. The guards were Blood Lords, dressed much like the legionnaires they had passed but with their armor and shields marked with blood red eagles instead of the devil face fronting of the Seventh. Blood Lord units were rare since most of the training was devoted to inducting junior officers; the only facilities they guarded were those at their main base in Raven’s Mill, Blackbeard Base in the Bimi Isles and now this base. Not only were there Blood Lords on the gate, but they could be seen patrolling the palisade as well.

  They were stopped by a sergeant who consulted a clipboard.

  “Countess Travante, it’s a pleasure to see you,” the guard said, flipping to a page. “Your picture doesn’t do you justice. Lieutenant Van Krief, Miss Shanea Burgey, Miss Mirta Krupansky and Major Herrick. When were you promoted, sir?” the guard asked.

  “Three days ago,” Herzer said.

  “Congratulations, sir,” the sergeant said, with apparent indifference. “You’re all cleared to pass. Lieutenant, thank you for directing them here.”

  “This is as far as I go,” the lieutenant said, smiling but with a touch of asperity. “Good luck on… whatever.”

  “Thanks,” Herzer said as the gates of the facility were opened.

  There was a dogleg made of heavy baulks of timber supported by thick pilings and backed by packed earth. It served to both turn any attacker through the gate and to prevent anyone seeing the facilities.

  When they cleared the dogleg they were confronted by a camp not much different from that outside. The buildings were permanent structures instead of tents, but it was laid out much like any standard legion camp. The exception to this was at the center where a small lake was visible. There were buildings on the shore, a dock and a large building apparently built out over the lake stretching to near its center.

  “Hey, Graff,” Herzer said as soon as they were in the facility proper.

  “Hey, Herzer,” the sergeant replied, grinning. “Coming up in the world.”

  “Edmund had to decide whether to charge me or promote me,” Herzer said with a shrug.

  “Well, there’s always killing you,” Graff noted.

  “He keeps trying and trying,” Herzer snorted. “Like now. I’m soliciting volunteers, by the way.”

  “Not on your life,” Graff replied. “I wanna live to spend my pay. Vaston will show you to your quarters,” he added, gesturing at one of the guards on the inside of the gate. “After that, you’ll need to go by camp security and get your badges.”

  “Badges?” Megan said.

  “We don’t wear them on the gate,” the sergeant said, reaching into his armor and pulling out a badge on a lanyard. It was blue paper encased in plastic and had a rather bad picture of the sergeant on it along with his name and ID number, but not rank. “But you have to have them to move around the camp and to get back in if you go out. Both entrance and exit are restricted. You, ma’am, obviously have free run, although you’ll be required to show your badge in various areas. But your aides will require specific, written, permission,
to leave the camp or return.”

  “I see,” Megan replied musingly.

  “What’s with the lake, Private?” Herzer asked as they proceeded through the camp.

  “Sir, we’re pretty careful about what questions we ask,” the private replied tightly. “The short answer is: I don’t know. And I don’t want to know, sir, if you get my drift.”

  “Got it,” Herzer said. “Good answer.”

  They seemed to be the only people stirring in the base and Herzer realized that with the exception of themselves, the guards and whatever support personnel had been scraped together, the camp was empty. He’d never looked at the total of the slain but the scorpions must have killed over a hundred highly trained personnel in their attack.

  The quarters, when they reached them, were in a two-story wooden building that showed all the signs of hasty construction. The room Megan was shown to was probably one of the best on the base and it was furnished with a small couch, a single bed, a footlocker and a small kitchen area, all in one room. It had its own bathroom, consisting of a porcelain sink, a commode and a shower.

  “Sorry, honey,” Herzer said, looking around the room and shrugging.

  “Well, they haven’t been wasting funds on accommodations,” Megan said, shaking her head. “It’ll do. I have to wonder what the guard barracks are like.”

  “Bays, ma’am,” Vaston replied. “Thirty to a bay. And there were only half the guards that we’ve got here, before, so we’re hot-bunking about sixty to a bay. Most of us sleep outside anyway; it’s bloody hot in the barracks.”

  “Sorry I asked,” Megan said, shaking her head. “And sorry you’re cooped up like that, Private.”

  “Not a problem, ma’am,” the Blood Lord replied, grinning. “We’re rotating out of here to Blackbeard.”

  “Fun in the sun,” Herzer said. “Guard stands are hell down there, but the rest of the accommodations are first rate.”

  “And the mer-girls like the guards,” the private added, grinning, then looking stricken at joking about that subject with the councilwoman present. “Sorry, ma’am!”

  “Not a problem,” Megan replied.

  “The rest of the rooms are singles,” the guard continued, gesturing the others out of the room. “You share bathrooms.”

  Herzer’s room was adjacent to Megan’s, but not adjoining. He figured he could find someone to put in a door.

  “We need to go by base security,” Vaston said when they’d been shown their quarters. “Are you going to have more luggage following?” he asked, noting that they’d brought nothing with them.

  “Lieutenant Tao is going to be bringing it,” Herzer said. “We came on ahead. Let’s get the rest of the details over with; we’re on short time.”

  “Yes, sir,” the private said, leading them out of the building.

  “What’s on the top floor of the building?” Herzer asked as they were walking across the base.

  “More rooms, sir,” Vaston replied. “For others on the team.”

  “That was one of the buildings that got hit, wasn’t it?” Megan asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the private said.

  “No stains on the floor,” Herzer noted.

  “We had a bit of cleaning when we arrived, sir,” Vaston said. “Replaced some of the wood on the floor. Sanded the rest. And the walls.”

  “I could have done without that image,” Megan said.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” the private replied. “I’ll try to watch it in the future.”

  “It’s okay,” Megan said, quietly. “I’ve seen bad enough things in my life. Do you know who was in my room before?”

  “Colonel Carson, ma’am,” Vaston said as they reached another two-story building.

  The room in the interior was filled with desks but the only person in it was a Blood Lord officer manning a counter that barred passage to the rest of the room.

  “Countess Travante,” the lieutenant said, standing to attention as Megan entered. “Good to see you, ma’am.”

  “We need to get our badges, apparently,” Megan said, smiling charmingly.

  “Yes, ma’am, I have them right here.” The officer pulled out a clipboard, printed pages and a handful of badges. “Please sign beside your name,” he added, handing out the badges along with sheets of paper. “This is a map of the facilities. The badges are color coded. Yellow is restricted to only yellow areas. Purple can move in purple or yellow. Blue in those two and blue. Red has full access.”

  Shanea and Mirta’s badges were in yellow, Van Krief’s in blue. Only Megan and Herzer were issued red badges.

  “What if we’re in a red area and we need one of our aides?” Megan asked, frowning.

  “They can be given special access, ma’am, of course,” the lieutenant said, swallowing nervously. “They’ll require an escort. If they’re with you, of course…”

  “Okay,” Megan said. “We’re supposed to report to an initial in-brief…”

  “It’s in Building Seventeen, ma’am,” the lieutenant said, sliding over a map and pointing to the building in question. “That’s a blue zone.”

  “Mirta and Shanea are not on the mission,” Herzer noted.

  “I know,” Megan said. “Mirta, I’m not even sure why I asked you to come along.”

  “To be a helper bee and not get in the way,” Mirta said, taking the clipboard out of Shanea’s hand, turning it over and signing Shanea’s name. “Just put an X here, dear.”

  “Thanks,” Shanea said, brightly.

  Herzer looked at the clock on the wall and shrugged.

  “I guess you guys can go explore the yellow areas,” he said. “Megan, Van Krief and I need to get over to the briefing.”

  “Private Vaston,” the lieutenant said. “Why don’t you show the councilwoman’s aides around?”

  “Sir,” Vaston said woodenly. “I’m detailed to gate guard.”

  “I’ll send a runner over,” the lieutenant noted.

  “And we’re out of here,” Herzer said, grabbing Megan’s arm.

  Building Seventeen was only two doors down and, unlike the majority of the buildings, was a low, one-story building, made entirely out of concrete. The main door was heavy steel and, as it turned out, locked. Herzer knocked on it furiously, bruising his knuckles, but there was no response.

  “What the hell?” he asked the sky.

  “Maybe nobody’s home?” Megan asked humorously. “I can open it easily enough…”

  “No, let me take a look around,” Herzer said, walking around the side of the building. Near the far end was another door on which he also bruised his knuckles. It was eventually opened by a dwarf. Herzer had seen a few prior to the Fall but the only ones he’d seen since were at Raven’s Mill. Dwarves were a Change, not a genegineered race like the elves, but they tended to reproduce as families. And, even before the war, they were considered odd.

  “Yes?” the dwarf asked suspiciously. He had a heavy accent.

  “You’ve got a council member cooling her heels at your front door,” Herzer noted angrily.

  “Well, what in hell is she doing at the front door?” the dwarf asked. “I’ll go open it. Who’re you?”

  “Herrick,” Herzer said, waving the badge.

  “Right, the new meat,” the dwarf said, stepping back and closing the door in his face.

  Herzer opened his mouth to retort, realized it was pointless and walked back around to the front.

  “There’s apparently…” he said as the door opened.

  “Councilwoman Travante,” a different dwarf said, holding out his hand. “Angus Peterka, Chairman of Dwarven Mining Consolidated. A pleasure to make your acquaintance at last.”

  “Dwarf Peterka,” Megan replied, shaking his hand and stepping in the room. It was small, with only the door to the outside and an equally heavy interior door. There was a dwarf manning a desk by the door and two more, in armor, holding large axes, guarding it. The day outside was hot but the room was pleasantly cool.

 
; “Sorry,” the dwarf at the desk said. “Gotta check the badges.”

  When the badges had been duly presented and checked the dwarf opened up a communications tube and whistled in it.

  “Travante, Megan. Herrick, Herzer. Van Krief, Amosis. His Nibs.”

  There was a muttered response from the tube and the door opened from the inside.

  “Sorry about all this,” Peterka said. “But this was one of the few buildings that the damned scorps didn’t penetrate, so there’s that for it.”

  “I can see why,” Herzer replied. The door led only to a small room with another door.

  “Man-trap,” Peterka noted. “The inner door can’t be opened unless the outer door is closed. Interlocks and such.”

  “Very heavy security,” Megan said.

  “Well, it’s where we’ve got all the plans for our systems,” Peterka said. “We insisted, built the thing ourselves. Not because of the mission, mind, although that’s important. But these are dwarf systems. We don’t let just anyone look at them. Primary production’s at the mines, of course, but the security’s tighter there. Nobody but dwarves allowed.”

  “And if I wanted to see it?” Megan asked jokingly.

  “We would, with all due respect, tell you to go to hell,” Peterka said gruffly.

  “I see,” Megan replied dryly. “You and my father would get along splendidly.”

  Finally, they were in the building proper, but there wasn’t much to see. The corridor they were led down had doors to either side but they all had locks on them. Near the end, Peterka pulled out a ring of keys, fumbled through them, and opened up a door like any other.

  The room was oval and had several chairs around a table. At one end was a dais with some covered equipment. At least two of the pieces had to be man-shaped statues but the rest were a mystery.