Soldier's Duty

by Patty Jansen

  Wairin said, "Local families involved?"

  Eris shook his head. "That's rubbish."

  Izramith said, "I'm not so sure about that. There is a rift in the council. I blundered into a council meeting and saw councillors attacking each other. Now this may be a regular state of affairs and you may have become used to it, but it is hardly normal. Some groups in town are very angry. The old councillors worked under the Mirani occupation for years. It made them rich and protected their status. Now they have to comply with gamra law and it tells them to do things they don't like. Give up some power to groups they formerly repressed, and their right to have many women at the same time. It's not hard to see why they would allow Mirani to come in their houses. Some of them will think that Barresh was better off under Mirani rule. For some of them, it might even be true." Like the merchant stuck with masses of ex-Mirani army clothing.

  Eris looked disturbed. "But why would they do that? These people are Daya's friends. Since Daya has come, this town has never been so rich."

  "The town, yes, but what about the traditional families themselves? Everyone is joking about how lazy and decadent they are. Even you are doing it between yourselves. You know, that your family's butts are not big enough to fill council chairs." He opened his mouth, and closed it again, understanding on his face. "I'm sure they can't be too impressed with that treatment. They were more respected and had more power under Mirani rule."

  "But if that's true, then every old keihu family could have an interest in bringing down the Barresh council."

  Izramith nodded. "And every house along that route could harbour a sniper. That's what I've been trying to say, but everyone is so fixated on that guesthouse that no one is listening. Yes, the guesthouse is part of the problem, but it's not the only problem, and not by far the worst problem."

  "Shit," Braedon said, staring out the window.

  After a silence, Izramith asked him, "Do you think your brother might postpone the wedding?"

  He gave her a sideways glance. "Because of this?"

  "Because the problem is more serious than we thought, and we don't know where else these people have their posts, we don't know how many of them there are, and there will be no time to search the entire city." In fact, it she felt overwhelmed by the possibilities.

  Braedon said, "We don't need to secure the entire city, just the streets along the route. That should be feasible. My brother is not the kind to back down."

  Damn Traders. "Can I at least talk to him? He needs to consider all the facts before bringing everyone else in danger."

  He shrugged. "Talking does no harm."

  Chapter 24

  Soon, the fields of green leaves became denser and the waterways more crowded with boats, and then the houses of the island passed underneath.

  When the craft landed at the airport, a couple of guards were waiting for them and took the prisoner off their hands. He'd gone quiet and looked defeated, like a convicted man waiting for punishment. She wondered what sort of interrogation techniques Barresh used. At Hedron, there were a couple of guards who specialised in getting answers out of people. Izramith had watched their interviews sometimes. They never touched anyone, but had twisted ways with words that managed to break their spirits enough to make them spill their story. Izramith stood in awe of those women. Who needed torture when those people existed?

  A couple of guards helped unload the stretcher with Loxa's body. Dashu went with them, in the direction of the new terminal building.

  Izramith watched the sad group progress across the airport. What would happen to him? Would Dashu hold a ceremony? Would she be alone farewelling him? Would she have to notify Loxa's family? And then a thought: if she died here, would anyone know how to notify her family? In her application, she had left the next of kin field blank. Maybe that was a silly thing to do. Her father at least would like to know, and she would like her mother to know, even though she might not care very much.

  Izramith, Wairin and Eris went into the council building, where she passed the datasticks she had taken from the equipment in the cave to the people who worked in security. Dashu and Loxa had been two of those people. Later, she would have to deal with replacing Loxa. Would she be required to find Dashu a new zhayma or could she just find someone else who knew about security? Someone who was not Coldi, preferably?

  The question made her feel sick. What did she know about this? If sheya was an instinct rather than a taught behaviour, she might have some of it, but it wasn't strong and nothing told her what needed to be done for Dashu, who clearly expected her to have the answers.

  Everything in the security room had Loxa's mark on it. The cloying atmosphere reminded her too much of Indrahui. Too much loss, too much death and destruction.

  Eris caught her staring into nothingness seated in the chair in the security room. Dashu normally sat there, but she had not yet come back.

  He leaned against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

  "I know you haven't been getting along very well with Dashu and Loxa, but you should come this afternoon."

  "Come?"

  "The farewell ceremony for Loxa."

  Oh. "Here in Barresh?"

  "At the jetty where we left. You'll be welcome. I mean it. There will only very few of us."

  "He has no family in town?"

  "They're all at Asto. Dashu has been in contact with them."

  And that, by rights, should have been her job. Damn, she'd made a mess of this. She could still hear Dashu's voice You have a lot to learn. She did. Not about security, but about people. About learning to confide in people and learning to trust them.

  And damn it, the tears were so close to the surface these past few days. She hated it. She hated herself and all the Hedron guard toughness. It was a front, and it didn't work. You couldn't be tough on the outside if you had a weak inside. Inner strength was not denying grief and doubt. It was acknowledging it and dealing with it.

  "Can I… is there anything I can do to help?"

  He shook his head. "It's all organised." His expression was sad and his eyes met hers for longer than necessary.

  With the weight of guilt settling on her, she went down the corridor and asked to see Daya, but a council worker told her that the council was in session and he was not available until later. When she asked for a time that the session would be finished, he told her that he didn't know, but that council sessions often went overtime.

  Just wonderful. Did Daya even know what had happened?

  She left the council building again and walked to the guesthouse to clean up. Her head was in turmoil. The implications of what the young prisoner had told her were still sinking in. There were few houses along Market Street that did not belong to the old keihu families. Most of those houses had top floor windows that looked out over the street, or roofs from where you could see over the boundary walls. If all those families were now suspect, there was a lot of work to be done and they had about ten days to do it.

  In the hall of the guesthouse, a group of keihu people stood talking to each other and looked strange at her when she walked past in her blood-soaked and dirty clothes.

  She charged through the hall, up the stairs, across the gallery and into her room—and stopped. Why was her bag open? Why were her clothes on the floor? Who had searched through her belongings while she was away?

  She slid her pack from her shoulder and flung it on the bed with such force that the bed slid across the tile floor with a scraping sound.

  "Oh, fuck this fucking hellhole!" Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.

  They had no idea about proper security procedures, they hired her and ignored what she said. They were too stubborn, too stupid or too lax to listen, or too politically-motivated to understand.

  She was finished here, in this horrible, hot, cloying, sticky place.

  She upended her bag on the bed and went through her things a number of times, but couldn't discover anything missing. They'd found nothing because there was nothing
to find. Then she scanned the room for listening devices, both visually and with her frequency scanner, but didn't see anything either. Neither did the door display any signs of breaking in.

  And Daya was talking about trust and honesty, the hell! The guesthouse owners had allowed someone to come in here.

  This place was worse than Indrahui. She understood fighting. Shooting enemies was unpleasant, but at least she knew who she was shooting at. War was awful, but the parameters were clear. These are the good guys, these are the bad guys.

  This… was such a fucking mess. And she was supposed to work with these people and slash her way through political motivations, grandstanding and posturing. Meanwhile, everyone was trying to appease Daya and didn't see his zhadya-born manipulation.

  To hell with keeping a low profile. The council would sack her, but she was going to give the people in this town a piece of her mind.

  She left the room and went down to the registration counter in the hall.

  The matron with the ridiculous hairdo was talking to an elderly Kedrasi couple, and glanced over their shoulders at Izramith.

  Was she nervous? Good. She had better be.

  When the couple moved away, Izramith came to the desk, placed both her hands on it, fingers splayed, and leaned forward. "Explain to me why someone searched my room."

  Her voice was low, but the couple turned at the door and then quickly disappeared.

  The matron retreated, her eyes wide. She had the gall to look surprised. "I did—what?"

  "Why did someone search my room while I was gone? All my belongings were on the floor. Do you think I wouldn't notice?"

  "But no one could have—"

  "I have the key and took it with me. Who else, except you, can get into the room?"

  "Our staff would never do that," the matron said, her face miffed. "They are all trustworthy people."

  "There is no sign of a break-in. So if that doesn't scream foul play to you, I'm not liking your customer service."

  She swallowed visibly. "Why would we search your room?"

  "A very good fucking question. Why? Tell me? Because some lazy arsehole of a rich guy doesn't like me here and wants to find something to pin on me so he can force me to leave?"

  The woman said nothing. Her massive bosom heaved with shallow breaths. "I… I don't like this sort of threat. I don't like your language. We're a quality establishment. We—"

  "If you think this is a threat, wait until I make a fucking threat."

  The woman retreated further, her eyes wide. "You stop this or I'll call—"

  "The guards?" Izramith laughed. "I work for the guards. You'll get no sympathy from them for going through my stuff. Who's paying you?"

  "I honestly know nothing about this. It must have been some… maintenance worker, or…"

  "Rubbish."

  "Someone went into my room to look for something. Who was it?"

  The woman gave a tiny squeak. "I know nothing. I swear."

  Izramith glared at her, but realised that the woman probably spoke the truth. Likely she had accepted a bribe in return for the key, but knew nothing more.

  "I'll be reporting this to the guards and the council. If this happens again, I'll make you regret ever having accepted me in your guesthouse. You understand?"

  The woman nodded, her eyes still wide.

  * * *

  Dressed in her dark tunic, Izramith went back into town and made for the other side of the square. An unpaved path wound past the side and back of the airport to the water. At the end of the path was a jetty, with a number of boats already moored there.

  Dashu stood on the edge of the jetty, wearing the traditional Asto maroons. She stood so close to the water that for a moment Izramith was afraid that she might jump and drown. The eels would make short work of her.

  In the water lay a boat made of bundles of reeds tied together with rope. A rather flimsy construction. On top of the flat bottom lay a human shape wrapped in white cloth, surrounded by pink flowers.

  Izramith went to stand next to Dashu. She didn't look aside, but stared into the distance where the waters of the marsh bled into the horizon. "Apparently, there is a sea out there," she said, her voice empty.

  "I've seen it," Izramith said. "When I came in."

  "It was dark when I flew in." Dashu let a silence pass. "I think he will enjoy the sea." Her voice caught.

  Izramith's vision became blurred. She failed Dashu and Loxa.

  Dashu wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Sorry."

  "You should apologise to me?"

  "You at Hedron don't like emotion."

  "That doesn't mean we don't have any." It came out too angry.

  Dashu turned and met her eyes. A look of understanding went between them. There was no hint of sheya or any of the Asto Coldi nonsense.

  Izramith wanted to say how much of an absolute dick she had been, and that she was at fault for Loxa's death, but words wouldn't come out. She did what Braedon had done to her: she hugged Dashu.

  Her body felt delicate under her uniform, her upper body shaking with cries.

  Eris and Wairin had also arrived and stood like solemn statues.

  She helped Dashu down the steps to the water and together, they untied the knot in the rope. The current tugged it from Dashu's hand, taking the boat with the tide towards the horizon. The reeds would get wet and it would sink. Loxa would be one with nature.

  The sad group made their way up to the square in the last rays of dying sunlight. Looking over the square and all the building activities, the majestic and ancient building of the Exchange and the roofs of rich family's mansions, it was hard to imagine the level of betrayal in this town.

  Izramith let Eris take care of Dashu. She had some serious talking to do.

  * * *

  It was late afternoon by the time Izramith arrived at the Andrahar house and the garden was bathed in orange sunlight. The place looked so idyllic that it was hard to believe that there was so much tension under the surface. That illusion proved hard to pierce.

  There were no children playing on the veranda this time, so she crossed the yard, past the burbling fountain, the bench with the overhanging vine with its floppy flowers—they had fallen all over the seat—and up the steps to the front door. As seemed traditional in Barresh, it stood open and the sound of laughing children's voices came from inside.

  No security whatsoever. At Hedron, even Edyamor had a guard at the door to his family's private residence.

  In the hall, she found the twins playing in the knee-deep water of the fountain with a couple of tailed Pengali kids and their toddler sister, soaking wet and squealing with laughter.

  Watching the kids was Braedon's younger brother Taerzo. He sat on the stairs with a reader, his hair tied at the nape of his neck, and wearing only his uniform tunic and trousers. Without the shirt underneath, his upper arms and shoulders were bare. His skin was pale, his arms thin but wiry and corded with lean muscle. In her mind, she felt the touch of Braedon's soft skin under her palms.

  She said, "I want to speak to all of you, mostly Rehan."

  Taerzo greeted her and ordered the kids out of the hall. They drooped off, making protesting noises.

  He preceded her into the house's living room, where his mother sat at the table with the golden-haired child and old-fashioned books on the table.

  The boy's face serious as he copied characters onto a writing pad, his lips pressed together in concentration. The old woman spoke soft words to him in Mirani, then rose from the table.

  "I'm busy teaching, as you can see. Is this urgent?"

  "Urgent enough for me to come here."

  Her pale blue eyes met Izramith's and held her gaze for a moment. Assessing her intentions and the seriousness of the matter.

  "Very well."

  The boy looked up. Isandra spoke to him, leafing through pages of a book.

  Taerzo bade Izramith to sit on the couch. From the back of the room, he retrieved a tray with a c
arafe and glasses. Condensation pearled on the outside of the glass.

  The door opened and Rehan came in, followed by his bride-to-be. They all sat down on the couches, while the little boy kept working on his letters at the table.

  "Is Braedon not here?" She had expected him to be, and wanted to talk to him. Not that she knew what she would say, but she just wanted to see him, wondering why he hadn't come to Loxa's farewell.

  "He's on a run to Indrahui," Rehan said.

  So he'd come back from this emotionally exhausting trip and he'd gone straight to work in a violent war zone? "No time to sleep, huh?" She chuckled awkwardly, trying to hide her disappointment.

  Isandra said, "He received an emergency call from the military hospital. My son always responds to emergencies." The way she said it sounded like Izramith had ticked her off about something.

  She put her pad on the table and explained the problematic situation, about what they discovered, that the old keihu families were likely to be involved, and that many of them supported Mirani interests. She showed all the places along the route that now needed re-checking now and all the things that were currently unknown. Taerzo watched from the corner of the couch, Rehan and Mikandra next to each other opposite the table. They were both in uniform.

  When she finished, Rehan licked his lips. "The council has assured me yesterday that there are no major issues."

  "That was yesterday. This changes everything. This is not some amateur setup."

  "You killed seven of them. That will have taken the heart out of their operation."

  "We don't know that. The man we captured suggested that this is a large operation and that there are various people in town involved."

  "She is right," Isandra said. "You can be foolhardy to go through with it, but we know what Miran is capable of. Can I remind you of a yard with a burned-out house?"

  "I strongly advise to cancel or change the route or length of the parade. We may not have enough time to sort this out. We may not have enough people. We're up against a group of people who will have formed a tight wall of protection around their group, and have probably been doing so for years. We have some of their data, but we're a long way off being in control of this situation. You can go ahead with the parade, but I won't be able to guarantee your safety."