Empire & Ecolitan (15 page)

“H
OW LONG DO
we wait?”

“You just arrived back. His orders give him up to six standard months. The idea was to let him hang himself. Besides, we still don't have a report from our contact at the Institute.”

“That could be a problem. You may not.”

“Definitely a possibility, since they clearly know at least one of our contacts. But better one we're allowed than none.”

“And you stand for that?”

“You have a better idea? Besides our current operation to force them into the open?”

“You should have sent Wright after them the way he did the Halstanis. Either way, we would have gained something.”

“You are rather impatient. Remember, the Emperor and the Senate both frown on blowing up our own colonies. Or have you forgotten that small fact? Besides, Wright was never trained in espionage. Subtle as an old-style cruiser, and he's certainly bound to make mistakes. They don't forgive easily.”

“Do we really know that?”

“No.” He paused. “But do you have any other explanations for the disappearances? And our inability to plant anyone they don't want planted?”

“Perhaps you picked the wrong people?”

“Wrong people…perhaps. Speaking of which, how did you lose the other half of your team? Again, I might add?”

“Wright shot him.”

“No. Better to claim
they
shot him. Wright was probably looking for you.”

“You know me too well.”

“All too well, my friend. All too well. And how will you report the incident?”

“As you suggested. Reconnaissance disrupted by unknown agents, presumably attached to the underground rebel force associated with the Institute. You'll have to explain the need for reconnaissance.”

“Unfortunately…unfortunately. Is there any way our contact could be persuaded to goad Wright into action? His actions are always so drastic we could probably recoup everything.”

“I've suggested that, but no response. And what happens if Wright goes over to the rebels?”

“Then we can move. Claim he was either killed or reconditioned, and that he was destroyed uncovering the rebellion. Get rid of him and them.”

“Why bother?”

“You're asking that?”

“Outside of the personal thing, I meant. It would be years before the Institute would be a threat, if ever.”

“I wish that were true.”

“Then the rumors
are
true.”

“It's time for you to file your report. And make sure it's filed correctly, especially this time.”

“Don't I always?”

J
IMJOY STOOD UP
from the table where he had eaten alone. The unmarked Ecolitan greens offered no real protective coloration, although he continued to ignore the low comments from the young man with brown hair seated beside a darker-haired history and moral-philosophy instructor and an older professor.

After glancing absently around the room, Jimjoy flexed his shoulders and walked toward the trio, looking beyond them toward the garden. As he neared the table, he glanced down, casually letting his eyes take in the two Ecolitans and the apprentice.

“Oh, good day, Temmilan, apprentice Dorfman. And you, too, Professor Firion.” His voice was pleasantly false, as he had meant it to be.

“Good day, Major,” responded Temmilan.

Dorfman did not meet Jimjoy's eyes, instead looked away.

“A very pleasant day, indeed,” observed the graying Sergei Firion.

“Yes, it is. A day for cheerful quiet.” Jimjoy paused briefly, then added, “Once you said something about friendship being able to rest in quiet, and I questioned that. Now I find, rather surprisingly, that I agree with Temmilan's original assessment.”

“My, you're such a quick convert.” Temmilan's voice was only slightly warmer than glacial ice.

“We Imperials have no moral philosophy and can be converted quickly.” He laughed softly and concluded, “And sometimes we even stay converted.” He paused again, then added, “Have a pleasant day.” But before he could turn to leave, he found his right arm engaged by a silver-haired woman.

“Major Wright.” Despite the formality of the salutation, the words sounded warmer. Much warmer.

Thelina squeezed his upper arm gently before releasing her grip.

“Thel—Ecolitan Andruz.” He inclined his head to her.

“He's still rather formal, don't you think, Temmilan?” Thelina Andruz smiled brightly at the two historians and the apprentice.

“Rather.”

Thelina turned her bright smile on the Imperial Major. “I'm sorry I couldn't make it in time for lunch, but I do have a few moments. Shall we go?”

“Nice to see you all,” Jimjoy said warmly as he nodded to the historians and left with the silver-haired Ecolitan, who had reasserted her grip on his arm.

“You have such a way with words, Major.”

“Thank you so much.”

The two walked out of the staff area arm in arm. Jimjoy could not resist a grin, even though he knew the scene was a charade.

“The main garden, or somewhere else?”

“Have you seen the small formal garden?”

“No. Don't even know which one it is.”

“Then you should, Major. You certainly should. How else could you bring back an accurate picture of the Institute and what it stands for?”

“Guess I couldn't.”

“You are absolutely correct
this time
. You couldn't.”

He winced at the emphasis in her statement.

Thelina disengaged her arm from his and reached for the door before he could.

“Don't you let a poor Imperial do anything by himself?” Even as he walked through the open door and the words tumbled out, he shook his head.

Thelina was silent. Jimjoy glanced back at her as she let go of the doorway.

In turn, she was shaking her head.

“I know. I know. It's a good thing I don't have to operate just on words.”

She nodded in agreement with a solemn smile and stepped back beside him. She did not take his arm. “Take the left walkway.”

“Left it is.” He decided against offering any more statements. With Thelina, every time he opened his mouth, he seemed to swallow either his tongue or his boots.

Less than ten meters from the doorway, they stepped out from under the covered walkway onto a path with rectangular gray stones which curved in a gentle arc beyond the edge of the nearest academic building, the one that housed the library where Jimjoy had spent more than a few hours wrestling with the Institute's datanet and finding out more than he suspected the Ecolitans would have liked, for all their professions of openness.

Thelina's steps were unhurried, forcing Jimjoy to slow his pace.

“We are not on a field march, Major. You should enjoy the scenery, especially the garden. It's close to a replica of the more famous English formal gardens.”

“An Anglish garden? Generally a replica?”

“
English
was the way it was most properly pronounced. And generally a replica because there have been no gardens there for some time.” She paused before continuing. “There. The bushes—they should properly be boxwoods, at least chest-high. But boxwoods do not grow well here, if at all. So we have used a dwarf delft on the outer hedges and even lower smallwood on the inside.”

“Which path?” he asked as they entered the green chest-high maze. Jimjoy could see that the inner part of the maze consisted of bushes less than waist-high.

“Whichever you wish. There are benches on either side, and this is a symmetrical pattern.”

In time they reached a bench, partly concealed, resting on four of the gray paving stones, with the delft on three sides, and a narrow single-stone-width path from the main path to the bench.

Jimjoy started to step across the grass.

“You could take the path, just for the sake of form.”

He glanced across to see her smiling gently and brushing a stray wisp of silver over her left ear. Her hair was again twisted up on the back of her head.

“Still long?” His eyes took in the wound silver, which seemed to glint, almost haloing her face, despite the afternoon overcast and the absence of direct sunlight.

“So far, Major. I probably will get around to cutting it one of these days, assuming that I remain here for more than home leave.”

He raised his eyebrows. A training slot counted as
leave
.

“The Empire seems to feel that short-haired women are automatically from Halston or Accord. Who needs that kind of attention on field duty?”

That made an unfortunate kind of sense, Jimjoy reflected. He followed her suggestion and walked the curving spiral of stones behind her, putting each foot in the middle of a slate-gray stone and taking a good dozen extra steps to get to the smooth wooden bench.

The bench itself was typical of Accord, smoothly and finely finished, with a high back and with each slat grooved into place.

Jimjoy saw neither bolts nor nails, but only the smoothed traces of well-fitted pegs.

Did the Accordans carry everything to the extreme craft he saw at the Institute? Harmony had certainly looked much the same. Was anything done quickly or without precision and care?

“Why the frown?”

“Just…thinking,” he murmured.

Thelina gestured toward the space beside her as she sat down. “Might as well sit down and tell me, Major.”

Jimjoy sat.

“Closer. You'd think we were strangers, and we certainly aren't that, Major. Are we?”

Jimjoy sat down, puzzled because there was no edge to her statement. Neither was her tone inviting. She had merely stated a fact.

“What were you thinking about?”

“About the degree of craft that goes into everything, even wooden benches.”

“You find craftsmanship unusual?”

Jimjoy laid his arm across the back of the bench, above her shoulders but not actually touching her, and leaned slightly closer, as if the conversation were more intimate than it was certain to be.

“Not craftsmanship. Seen nothing here without it. Not sure all things are worth doing well.”

“There's a difference between actions and objects, Major. You seem to value the reverse, faulting yourself when your actions are not perfect. Yet you say not all actions need to be done well. If you spend the time to create something, shouldn't it be made honestly and well? Not elaborately, but honestly and well?”

“You may be right. Hadn't considered that distinction.”

“You're remarkably open-minded when you're not on the defensive.”

“Could be. Seems a few people here want me on the defensive.”

Thelina turned in toward him, touched his right shoulder with her left hand, and brushed his cheek with her lips. The semi-kiss, without emotion, was followed by an announcement lower than a whisper. “This is not shielded, but we're making arrangements. We'll be eloping some night in the next week when I visit you.”

He leaned closer to her. “Then why here?”

“Why not?” her voice was louder, soft but carrying. “Everyone knows about us.”

Jimjoy brought his other arm up, holding her loosely. He felt awkward.

“You're blushing, Major.”

He was, he knew, and tried to refocus the conversation before he really got in over his head. More over his head, he corrected himself.

“What can I say?”

“Nothing, Major. Your intentions are completely and totally transparent.”

Jimjoy wrenched his thoughts back to what had been bothering him earlier.

“Historian…has to be working for Allen…has to be…”

Jimjoy kept his voice as low as he could, and his arms around Thelina, who felt as responsive as a mannikin, though warmer.

She turned as if to nibble his ear, whispering back, “I can hear you. So can anyone with a directional cone. Who's Allen?”

He tried to keep his voice even softer. “Man who got away…first day here…Commander…Special Op…”

“Cold,” she said, half aloud.

“I agree,” he answered, not agreeing with anything.

“Why don't you like her?” Thelina moved away from Jimjoy and her question was asked in a normal tone of voice.

He let his arm drop away and shifted his weight. “Too forward. Too obvious.”

“Remind me to avoid that pitfall, Major.”

“Now we're back to being formal?”

“I'm only allowed so much off-duty time, Major.”

Jimjoy shifted his weight totally away from her, stretched his shoulders with a shrugging gesture, and stood up beside the bench. He looked around the garden.

“Well, shouldn't keep you for too long.” He kept the puzzled look off his face, though he wondered why Thelina had taken his comments about Temmilan with so little reaction.

She turned on the wooden bench to follow his movement without standing up. Her green eyes focused on him and seemed to sharpen. “You're right, Major. It's time for me to get back to work, and time for you to get back to view any of those classes you missed. You have a lot left to cover, I'm sure.”

He nodded. “Always learning something new. Hard to tell what you people don't already know, though. Some things don't surprise you at all. Almost as if you already knew it all and hadn't bothered to let anyone know.”

She shook her head as she in turn stretched and stood up. “No. You know military skills and tactics far better than we do. Kerin told me about your little exhibition. You weren't just impressive, she said. You awed a woman who's never impressed, especially by men.”

Jimjoy flushed, again, and glanced at the low hedge around the bench. He saw no sign of the blurring that would have signified a distortion screen.

“Then, too, Major, we also watch for reactions, or overreactions. The fact that your judgment was so accurate in heated circumstances was interesting, especially given the ‘stress' you were under. We had a bit longer to make our conclusions.”

Jimjoy forced a smile. He knew now all too well to what incident she was referring.

“As I suspected, Thelina, you have been ahead of me all the time. Cool and calculating.” His voice was almost as cool as hers had been at times.

Thelina was standing facing him, grinning widely. “It makes no difference. Your reactions are unique enough to throw all our calculations off.”

He shrugged again, still coolly angry, still aware that he could say nothing that surprised her. He wondered why so many of the Ecolitans, Thelina in particular, left him feeling verbally inadequate.

“Anyway,” she added lightly, “I do have a field lesson for the newbies.”

“Newbies?” He glanced at her, his eyes picking up on the small monogrammed Ecolitan emblem on her tunic.

Her eyes followed his and, surprisingly, she blushed. “New—new—”

“Brats?” he offered.

“Not exactly, but accurate enough, thank you.” Her voice was again moderated and cool, and the momentary color in her face was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Field session?” he probed.

“Survival indoctrination…edible plants and animals. The usual. Basic principles.”

“How many planets' worth?”

“That, Major, depends on how receptive the students are. First, they have to learn this planet. Enough…in any case.”

Jimjoy could not tell from her tone whether she was putting him down or leading him astray, or both. He did not shrug, though he felt like it.

A brief gust of wind ruffled his hair and pulled several strands of hers loose.

“See you later.” He stepped around her, brushing into the hedge, feeling several sharp points digging into his hip. She did not move, though an amused smile played across her lips. He ignored it as he put his feet on the narrow stones and headed back toward the main walkway that would eventually lead him to the physical training facility.

Now that everyone was awed, he obviously couldn't hide anything and might as well get a decent workout. A workout he clearly needed to untangle his thoughts. He hadn't planned on that, but he clearly needed it, for more than one reason.

“Have a good workout, Major.”

Jimjoy tightened his jaw, but did not look back or acknowledge the pleasantry as he kept his steps even.