Rheme wiped his face. ‘You reconvened the committee as a committee of inquiry?’
‘Yes. They found as seemed appropriate. We have indictments against Justin, against the Governor, his wife, against a whole throng of lesser villains. Most of whom, Pm afraid, have escaped justice by dying rather sooner than we’d intended.
‘Lang’s still alive. Some of the troops, including Lang and the bunch that destroyed the False Eagers, have refused to come in as ordered.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Viggies. Tripsingers. They hear things, then they tell a Presence, and the next thing you know, the Emerald Eminence knows all about it,’
‘So?’
‘So, we have to take some of the loyal troops and go after them. We can’t let them roam around like brigands.’
‘You don’t think the viggies and the Presences will take care of them?’
‘I’m sure they would, eventually. It will look a lot better to PEC and be more honorable if we do it ourselves, however.’
‘Where is Colonel Roffles Lang now?’
‘He’s somewhere south of where the Enigma used to be with a couple hundred troopers. He’s proclaimed himself commander of all humans on Jubal.’
‘Oh, has he,’ the General mused with an audible sniff. ‘Well! I agree that it will look better if we discipline our own. And since we may have to leave Jubal very soon, it should be done at once. I’ve promoted Captain Verbold to Colonel, Commander of the Garrison, effective immediately. Sort through the troops you have and the ones that are coming back. Work with him and get the matter in hand.’
The matter had been put in hand by the following morning, and Colonel Verbold was much in evidence as troops began to assemble outside the city. Donatella Furz, who had been alerted by both Clarin and Rheme, circled through the gathering men, her long legs ticking off the distance as she searched for one particular participant. She found him at last, red-eyed, obviously somewhat brou-sotted, sitting in the shade of his own mule as he cleaned his rifle.
‘Tasmin,’ she said calmly. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
He grunted at her.
‘What do you think you are doing?’
‘Going with the troopers,’ he mumbled. ‘Get everything cleaned up.’
‘Wasn’t Justin’s death enough for you?’
He glared at her. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
She sat down beside him. ‘I’m talking about vengeance, Tasmin. Clarin said you really wanted to kill Justin. I can understand that. He did rather slip through your fingers….’
‘Bastard,’ he growled.
‘But that doesn’t make this more sensible.’ She gestured around them at the assembling ranks.
‘Colonel Verbold said I could go.’ He sounded like an unreasonable five-year-old.
‘No, what he said was that he couldn’t stop you tagging along. However, he did mention his displeasure to Rheme, who mentioned it to Clarin, and both of them told me.’
‘I’ve got to …’ He fumbled for words, unable to find them.
‘You’ve got to get it out of your system,’ she said for him.
‘Celcy,’ he blurted. ‘She died.’
‘Yes, she died. And Lim’s dead. And the Eagers are gone, and the Enigma, and Redfang, and a couple of dozen others. I can’t say I blame you for wanting to kill Justin and trying your best, even though you damn near got yourself killed in the process. Still, Justin had a lot less to do with Celcy’s death than he did with Gretl’s, for instance, but I’m not out here with a stun rifle set on high-fry, trying to do a mop-up job that troopers are trained for and we’re not.’
‘Gretl wasn’t your wife. Celcy was mine.’
She stared at the pig-headed man before her with a combination of pity and irritation. Part of this was her fault. If she hadn’t lectured him, hadn’t gotten his back up over Celcy, if she hadn’t made him aware of and, therefore, guilty over his attraction to Clarin, maybe matters would simply have taken their proper course and he would have let himself forget. Damn!
‘Tasmin, do you value our friendship enough to go into that tavern over there and have a glass with me? Broundy, maybe? Hot tea?’
‘You won’t change my mind.’
‘ After we talk, you do what you like, Tasmin. I won’t try and stop you. I promise.’
Unwillingly, he shouldered his weapon and followed Donatella through the scattered groups of men. When they were seated at the back of the almost-empty place with steaming drinks before them, she regarded him thoughtfully, trying to find a key to that locked, barricaded door he was using for a face.
He was sotted, exhausted, agitated, and pale. Jamieson and Clarin had both mentioned that he had lost weight since Celcy’s death, and Don thought he had lost even more since she had first met him. He didn’t look well. Obsessed, perhaps. Maybe just stubborn. Maybe merely guilty.
‘Why did you pick her, Tasmin? Out of all the women in Deepsoil Five. Why did you pick Celcy?’
Of the many questions she might have asked, he had not expected this one. The stubborn rejection he had ready would not serve. ‘Well… I didn’t pick her, not really. I met her. She was working at the commissary. She was admiring some little trinket, and I bought it for her. I made some remark about buying a pretty thing for a pretty girl….’He tried to focus on Don, having some difficulty in doing it, but his voice was clear.
‘And then?’
‘Well, one thing led to another. You know.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Next time I went in there, I asked her to have lunch. She told me about her family, how she lived. It sounded … bleak.’
‘You felt sorry
