Soldier's Duty

by Patty Jansen

  Anmi met Izramith's eyes, dark and penetrating. A corner of her mouth lifted. "You did well."

  Daya snorted. He turned back to the couch and sat down.

  He said nothing for a long time, and then he blew out a breath. "Jisson Semisu. Why did he talk to you?" The latter to Izramith.

  "Because we captured Ridan, a bunch of the councillor's sons tried to silence me, so I wouldn't tell you what he had told me about the councillors. But these men couldn't kill a fish if they tried. They are as unprepared for this sort of conflict as the rest of this town, so they took me to see him instead. He says he and his people are sick of being the joke of town. He says their daughters had no future, so Miran offered them work, and they paid for the girls in the way this used to happen in this town. He said you should know what work these people are doing for Miran, because you barely escaped from Miran yourself."

  Daya came back to the couch and put both his hands on the backrest.

  "It is true that Miran tried to kill me," he said in a low voice. "When I first came here. It's… a long and unpleasant story. You may hear it some day. Most likely, you will not. When I escaped, they tried to blackmail me. They wanted to hold me hostage because they thought my father was trying to insert spies into Barresh."

  Izramith laughed, not in a happy way. "Since when have Coldi fathers cared about their sons?" Especially the zhadya-born ones. Coldi fathers cared about their daughters, because they continued the line of family inheritance—from father to daughter to son to daughter. "What Miran did had nothing to do with your father. It was because of what you are. Nemedor Satarin has a breeding program for your type of people and that's why he wanted you."

  "Nemedor Satarin never stops expressing his contempt for foreigners. He would not actively encourage them to come to Miran."

  "That's why he has no trouble treating foreigners like second-rate citizens. He's got people from Barresh. He's got people from Hedron, people like you. I have no doubt that he's got people from Asto, too. I suggest that you talk to your father. I highly suspect that people have gone missing from Asto, too."

  This was like the escape of the Ezmi clan from Asto all over again, and no one seemed to have learned anything.

  Damn, she was near on fire with anger.

  "Why wasn't I told about your escape from Miran? What good is it to me now? We've got this whole fucking mess, and not enough time to sort it out before the wedding. I've asked the family to postpone it, but they don't want to. The whole upmarket end of town have sold themselves to Miran, and Mirani spies could be in every house along the way. Seriously, how could anyone ever be so lax with security? Why weren't people told? Why do you have Barresh and Asto security running around and no one knows what everyone else is doing? Why?"

  He said nothing.

  Licked his lips.

  Sighed and got up from the couch. He walked to the window and back. As he passed Izramith, a waft of hot air followed in his wake.

  Anmi's dark eyes followed him. Her expression was one of interested curiosity. Look at this crazy woman who dares to piss off my husband.

  Did she see a hint of admiration in her face?

  Izramith didn't care what he thought of her or about his status. She no longer cared what the guards at home thought, or whether there was still a job for her at Hedron at the end of this contract. Fuck Hedron. She was going to sell herself as mercenary to Indrahui or something. And fight and shoot people for the rest of her life. She didn't even care if she lived or died.

  Daya let another long silence lapse. Then he said, "Barresh has probably grown too quickly. Taken on too many projects. All the work we've done in this town has concentrated on construction, on meeting gamra requirements, on expanding our reach, being inclusive to the Pengali, educating them, righting the wrongs of the past."

  "So, you've fucked up in the security department?"

  "Essentially, yes."

  "And in a couple of days, we have a huge public event that is a major security risk and any work I've done so far has not only uncovered far more trouble than my contract stipulated, but has increased that risk."

  "It seems so."

  "Great. We've been going backwards since I started here."

  Daya said, "I don't think the risk is so great anymore. You've taken out the spy station and I think we're well-covere—"

  "You don't think anything. You don't know anything about security. That's I'm here, and I say it's a fucking mess. I have never seen such a mess, and I've served at Indrahui, and that is a shithouse mess. If you hold that parade, almost every house along those streets could have a sniper in it. I have no time and no people to comb the area. I have no authority to search the councillors' houses. They've just admitted that there are devices and people hiding on the roofs."

  He spread his hands and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Then, miss security guard, what do you suggest we do?"

  Izramith let a silence lapse, aware that every eye in the room was on her.

  She said, "The main problem, why the council is reluctant to do anything, is because Miran holds these girls hostage. The councillors are afraid for their loved ones. As long as the girls are in Miran, you will never get their full assistance. You will never get the councillors to let guards search their houses. You will never get the Jamis Semisu to agree to have the guesthouse audited because the missing Semisu girl is his daughter."

  "Yes, and, sitting in my position, what would you do about it?" His voice was sarcastic now.

  "Because Barresh is small, there is only one thing you can do: something radical. Something they don't expect."

  "Sure." Daya raised his eyebrows. "Did you have anything radical in mind?"

  Izramith grinned. "I belong to the radical clan."

  His face twitched. All right, so he didn't appreciate that joke. As Ezmi having grown up on Asto, she should probably have suspected.

  She said, her voice more serious, "I'd propose to lead a team of people into Miran to free these girls, the Pengali and any other prisoners we find."

  Daya snorted. "Free them? By force?"

  "By stealth. I know where they are. I need an aircraft, someone who speaks Mirani and can pass for a local, a few people who can handle a gun and a pilot." In her mind, her team was already forming. Wairin, Braedon as Mirani guide, Braedon as sharpshooter and Braedon as pilot. Dashu and Eris were optional, as long as they didn't whinge about rules broken.

  "It would fix the problem in one swoop."

  "Only temporarily. Make Miran angry enough and they'll retaliate. No one has ever accused Nemedor Satarin for being sensible."

  Anmi was shaking her head, while regarding Izramith with a curious expression. "I don't think you give the man enough credit. He's blunt, but he's smart, or he wouldn't have been able to lure those people out of Hedron. He knows when to be nice if he needs to. He offered the Andrahar family help, too. Likely, he sent someone to Hedron under the guise of being a merchant, and offered personal invitations."

  Izramith nodded. She had wondered why the number of Mirani visitors to Hedron had increased so much lately.

  Back to the original problem. "So, what do you think?"

  "It's crazy."

  "Yes."

  "We risk the situation blowing up in our face just before the wedding."

  "There is no point in going ahead with the festivities if we can't secure the streets."

  He nodded, his face grave. Then he said, "We do something after the wedding." His voice was intense. "That's my final decision. I'll see you tomorrow to discuss what needs to be done to make the festivities safe."

  That was as clear a dismissal as any, and after that disappointment, Izramith had no desire to stay in that house for longer than necessary.

  She left the room for the hall. Anmi followed her, still carrying the baby.

  Izramith thought it was to see her out and make sure that she left, but as soon as the door to the library had shut, Anmi said, "Thank you."

  Izramith wasn't
sure what there was to be thanked for. "I'm sorry for coming at such a… personal time."

  She shrugged. The baby squirmed and started to make noises.

  "Did you really hire me?"

  "I made a very strong suggestion to Daya to appoint someone from outside Barresh and he said he'd only have someone from Hedron because others wouldn't understand him. He wasn't very happy about it. I was worried. The Barresh council all live in each other's pockets. We've tried to make it better but recently it has been getting worse. The guesthouse refusing audits. Threats made to the Andrahar family while they were in Barresh, threats that clearly came from within Barresh. Daya has been drawn into the culture of the councillors and their families. It's easy and comfortable if you're a man and if you have money. He's been under a lot of stress. And now this…" She stroked the baby's back, staring at some spot in the distance. "Our efforts to resurrect the Aghyrian race are in crisis, too. Since we started a few years back, twenty-three children have been born. They're all boys. He's… extremely disappointed to have yet another boy."

  "I'm sorry." The poor little bundle reminded her so much of Shada. Izramith knew all too well about that kind of disappointment. "You know… one of the reasons I came here was to look for a place for my nephew to grow up. My sister put him in the care of so-called professionals. He was only two days old." A wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. "Especially because… it seems you know what to do to stop people like you…" She almost said zhadya-born. "… going mad."

  "We do. We help a lot of people. Please, don't let Daya's outbursts stop you bringing your nephew here. He desperately wants girls for his program, but we care a lot about every child. When I'm… a bit better at walking, come to see me and I can show you around the school and what we're doing. It's important that your nephew learns how to let the energy escape from his body before the buildup does any permanent damage."

  "Energy?" A white flash across the screen in Commander Blue's recording.

  "It's called avya. When we're in sunlight or hot weather, our bodies are charged with energy. With no way to get rid of it, that energy will build in the body until it starts affecting the mind. Look." She held her free hand palm up. A tiny spot of light flickered into existence in the middle of her palm. "It won't always look as dramatic as this, but the majority of Aghyrians need to learn how to control it."

  Izramith stared at the spot. It looked like the butt of a glow bug without the actual bug. "Does that… hurt?"

  "If you leave that energy inside, it hurts."

  "That's why people go mad and become crazy murderers at Hedron?"

  "Exactly. And there is no need for that slide into insanity if the boys learn early enough. Bring your nephew when you can. I'm serious."

  "I will. Thank you." And she felt like she had never meant anything more seriously. Then she added, "I hope you'll recover quickly."

  Anmi smiled. "Giving birth is never as hard as the first time. You'll find out."

  Chapter 27

  But of course Izramith would never find out what it was like to give birth, because her contract with Indor was dead and if ever she got out of this mess, she'd sign up for some sort of mercenary position.

  Briefly, just briefly, she'd tasted life as a woman with her own family, but now she had gone back to feeling sorry for all the twenty-three little boys, who, even though they were unwanted, would still have a life much better than her nephew.

  For that matter, what did this dignified, beautiful woman see in an arrogant arsehole as Daya? Since when did a woman have to apologise for the actions of her partner?

  She crossed the yard back to the street and hesitated just outside the gate in the shadow of the trees. There was still light in the house of the Andrahar family. If she walked a few paces back and looked down the side of the house, she could see the glint of light on aircraft. She thought she spotted a velvet-dark craft. So Braedon had come back.

  She could go there and pretend to be checking something on the listening equipment. Except of course she had no idea what to check, because she didn't know more than the basic operations on the equipment.

  Also the family were probably about to go to bed and wouldn't appreciate a random visit from a stranger, not even for a proverb-fight with their mother. The old lady would probably have gone to bed long ago.

  So yeah, Izramith could just go to her guesthouse with the unfriendly matron and the luxurious but boring room, she could walk through the streets and freak out over all the old keihu family mansions and their unknown contents, or she could—

  There was a noise a bit further down the street. A shuffle of feet on pavement, a sigh or repressed sneeze.

  Izramith froze and stared into the darkness. The noise stopped, so she very quietly crept forward. She unclipped the gun from its bracket and turned the infrared scanner on her gun on. It wasn't as good as the dedicated one, and the screen was very small, but she didn't have her helmet. As she pointed the gun in various directions, the tiny viewfinder screen showed clearly that the house next to the Andrahars' was abandoned. There was no heat source inside.

  In the Andrahar house, there were light-coloured spots in some of the rooms. A few standing in front of the window.

  Izramith picked up movement at the corner of the Andrahar yard. A narrow alley ran between the outer wall and the next yard.

  She ran into the alley, weaving between bushes and piles of abandoned wood and other rubbish. Who left all this rubbish here? Did no one know the security risk of—

  Her foot caught behind something. She fell on one knee and managed to recover herself well enough to avoid an embarrassing situation.

  "What the fu—"

  A wire ran across the alley. It went up the wall, through one of the ornate metalwork grates and disappeared there.

  A trip wire. The same as the ones in the forest.

  Going to the house.

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  She grabbed her comm unit and rummaged through her contacts.

  Braedon, Braedon, where was—oh, there.

  "Braedon!"

  No reply yet.

  "Braedon—"

  "What's going on?"

  "You have to get everyone out of the house now. There is trip wire out here."

  "Wait, wait. Where are you?" A light flicked on at her side of the house and a silhouette appeared at the window.

  "In the street outside your house. I can see you. Come down now. Tell everyone to get out."

  Izramith climbed up using the ornate metal fencework on a grate set into an alcove in the wall. She jumped down on the other side of the wall and landed heavily on the paving. It jarred her knees. Ouch, higher gravity.

  She directed her light onto the grate. The wire went to ground level, where there was a planter box with a clipped bush. At the base of the bush, a small device had been taped onto the wood. Something blinked there.

  All she could see was the dreadful explosion of the hide-out in the forest. Trip wire. Blinking lights.

  Someone ran into the yard from the house.

  "Izramith?"

  She showed him what she had discovered by following the wire with her light.

  Without a word, he dropped to his knees.

  The wire stopped at the device, but clearly it was sending commands to elsewhere. But where was the main control box?

  She needed Dashu here with her equipment, but there was no time.

  "Go, go, get the family out."

  Braedon ran off, and she pulled out her comms and called up Dashu anyway, but she would come too late. Maybe not, it was worth a try.

  Izramith crouched next to the bush. From where the device sat, the range would cover about half the garden. Most of it was paved, but there was a fountain and that planter box with the wire frame and the creeping vine with the floppy flowers which covered the bench underneath.

  She remembered: there was a wire frame that held up the bush. Holy crap. A perfect receiver.

&nbs
p; She ran through the garden, yanked at the frame, uprooted it. It wouldn't come out, because the vine held it in place. And wires. She pushed the frame sideways as far as she could, dug into the soft earth underneath, her fingers following the wires into the ground by touch.

  The sound of agitated voices drifted from inside the house. Someone—Braedon probably—ran through the yard back to the house. Then the children came out, and Isandra in a white night gown, all walking quickly towards the gate.

  Izramith's fingertips found bristly wire ends. Ouch, that pricked. Underneath, her hands closed on another hard object. She dug away in the dirt, trying to get her fingers around it, trying to lift it out of the soil. It wouldn't budge. She dug, scooping handfuls of dirt onto the pavement. Sand clung to her sweaty arms.

  Someone appeared next to her. The youngest Andrahar brother Taerzo. "I know about mine explosives," he said. He went to the other side of the basin and helped her dig.

  They uncovered the box, lifted it out—it was encased in a metal housing. Taerzo ran off, she had no idea where to. She studied the casing, looking for a sign of what it did or how to open it.

  Taerzo came back with a handheld tool that had a vicious saw blade at the end. He revved it up. Sparks flew while he cut around the top. The cover fell off.

  A control device indeed.

  Mirani-made. She had seen these types of things in her training. She had even looked at that information before coming here, because of the Mirani merchants smuggling them. But she had never touched this kind of device.

  And her mind had gone blank on how to disarm it, except she remembered being told repeatedly that turning it off would set the explosive off immediately. There had to be a code. The time on the device was slowly ticking away. Of course this device was slightly different from the ones covered in her training. What was it about these controllers?

  Izramith studied the screen. "What does this say?"

  "It says it's live. Going off in thirty, twenty-nine…"

  "Shit." She could smash the thing but that would only set it off.