deal with in near term.
“Second, military training centers are good place to indoctrinate people into Confederation. Long ago, concept was called ‘school of nation,’ and it is no less applicable in this case. He will learn language and customs, how to be more human and less alien.
“Third,” Zhukovski continued, “military service will make it easier for us to watch him without him feeling like he is being watched. There will always be someone – superior, subordinate, whoever – nearby. If he is not who he says, or does something untoward, it is more likely to be noticed than if he is given job selling flowers on street corner or reading poetry on mall.
“Finally, we will learn much more from him if he willingly cooperates, which I feel is based in large degree on what we decide today, how we treat him in future. That way, we get much more information over time. I know that time is factor, because it translates directly into lives lost. I have children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and many members of my family have already given their lives to our cause, and I understand this well. But war has gone on for century already, and I doubt there is knowledge in his head that will let us win in week, if at all.” He nodded to Tensch. “Also, those who would like to do core scan on brain forget one very important thing: we have no Kreelan linguists and thought interpreters to go through what might come out of your
L’Houillier nodded, satisfied with the intelligence officer’s reasoning. “Very well, admiral,” he said. “Please meet with the operations officer and work out the details as soon as possible, beginning with the retrieval of Reza Gard and the Marines now on Rutan. That operation has uncompromising priority over all other tasks for the fleet, and the operations orders will carry my signature. Once that has been arranged, I want you to work out a long-term development plan for this young man and have a draft copy to me by twelve-hundred hours the day after tomorrow. After I have reviewed it, we will brief your plan to the president and Special Council as soon as possible.” He made a few quick scribbles on the table’s scratchpad, putting notes in his daily log file for later retrieval in the privacy of his office. Then he looked up and surveyed the committee members. “Ladies and gentlemen, does anyone have anything else to add?” Aside from a few disappointed looks, no one did. They were all anxious to get back to their parent organizations and agencies to hatch their own operations. “Very well then. This meeting is hereby adjourned.”
The gavel pounded the table a final time.
Nineteen
“This just came in, ma’am.” A young Marine handed Jodi a message.
Jodi took it and gave the man a quick nod. “Thank you, corporal.”
Braddock saw her face light up. “What is it?”
“Task Force-85 is on its way,” she told him, “ETA thirty-six hours.” It was not their home task force, TF-1051, but it would do.
“Hot damn!” Braddock cried. “Man, that’s the quickest reaction I’ve ever seen from fleet.”
Smiling with excitement, she read him part of the message: “As of 2385.146.1958T, prior regimental mission and priorities rescinded, repeat, rescinded. New priority as follows: imperative that safety and well-being of subject Reza Gard be maintained until arrival TF-85. Regiment is to stand down except for security details until relief arrival.”
She turned to Reza, who knelt quietly on the ground nearby, watching her and Braddock’s conversation as if he were a dog listening to its masters talking to one another, intensely interested, but unable to understand.
“Well, my friend,” she said happily, “it seems as though somebody thinks you’re awfully important.”
“Yeah, enough to send a whole frigging task force!” Braddock announced.
Reza cocked his head at her words, his expression intense but unreadable, and she found herself pierced by his gaze.
“Nothing’s ever easy, is it?” Braddock sighed.
Jodi looked through the trees to the village walls and the several thousand heads peering over it. They had thought that the news of the task force’s approach would make everyone happy. While the Marines had been elated, the Rutanians had taken a somewhat different approach to the news. A hastily called council meeting that had excluded Jodi and the Marines had ended with demands that Reza be brought into the village for what Hernandez had called an “inquisition.”
Had her orders not been so out of the ordinary and Hernandez’s request not so blunt – it was very obviously a demand – Jodi might have considered taking Reza into the village herself so Hernandez and the others might meet the instrument of their salvation that morning.
But, in light of the strange circumstances and fearing for Reza’s safety – and that of the villagers – Jodi had managed to follow orders for once and refused. Much to her surprise, Hernandez had stalked away, silent with what could only be rage.
Not long afterward she heard Father Hernandez on the steps of the church. He was shouting something about “the Antichrist,” and she ordered Braddock to have his Marines keep the townspeople back behind the wall while she took Reza to a secluded stand of trees where they could be fairly comfortable, yet inconspicuous. They were out of sight of the townspeople, but Jodi could still see out to keep an eye on things.
After seeing to the positioning of his Marines, Braddock had joined her, careful to let Reza see that he had no weapons. Reza accepted his presence without any comment other than his unblinking stare.
“I hope these people don’t decide to do anything rash,” Braddock murmured, looking back toward the city gates. Through his field glasses, he could see that the number of gesticulating hands and angry, frightened faces had multiplied considerably since his last observation. “Tomlinson,” he said into his comm link, “what’s the situation over there?”
Lance Corporal Raleigh Tomlinson’s voice crackled back through the receiver in his ear. “I don’t like it, gunny. These people are starting to look a little ugly, if you know what I mean. I’m not a Christian, but I know that some of the stuff they’re saying isn’t real nice. They’re starting to get pretty hot under the collar, and I heard some saying stuff about crossing over the wall, mention of heretics, and so on. Looks like the old priest is making it into a religious hocus-pocus thing, talking about ‘signs’ and the Antichrist and such. He and some of the others on their council have been shouting garbage like that at me for the last couple hours.” He paused. “I don’t know, gunny, looks like refusing to let them talk to whoever you’ve got there might have been a bad idea. It kind of reminds me of when we were on Dehra Dun a couple years ago.”
Braddock frowned. “Okay. Keep me posted, and for God’s sake don’t feel bashful about singing out.”
“Roger. Tomlinson out.”
“What about Dehra Dun?” Jodi asked, having heard the conversation through her own comm link. “What happened there?”
The gunnery sergeant looked at Reza, then at the gates, before he turned to face her. “Two years ago, when the regiment was due for some R-and-R, the task force dropped us off on Dehra Dun before moving off to a rendezvous to take on the regiment scheduled to replace us in the line. Dehra Dun wasn’t described in the info bulletins as a garden spot, but it didn’t look too bad.” He shook his head slowly. “Man, were we in for a
