“I don’t see why not, if it works for you.”
“Thank you, Sire. I don’t know that Section Six will always need an assistant lead, but I think it definitely does, to start up! And then we’ll bring her parents along to live nearby and help with the kids, who have been visiting my maternal aunt and uncle there every summer since they were big enough to travel – well, around the war dangers, at least – so they have friends there already…”
“How old are your children, Inspector, if I might ask? It’s only the curiosity of one parent to another, so don’t feel obligated…”
“My boy Paul is ten, Sire – no, I’m sorry; he just turned eleven – and my daughter Leya is about to turn seven.”
“Ah. So they bracket my twins, who are about to turn eight.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Do they show any interest in detective work?”
“As a matter of fact, Leya is very much interested, Sire. Paul shows some definite skill, but he isn’t as sure yet. He’s a… quieter… sort. He’s waffled on the subject a few times. You know how it is.”
“Ha! And they will go back and forth a dozen times before settling on a career and going to university,” Dunham chuckled. Ashton grinned.
“Most likely, Sire. I think that’s what most children do, isn’t it?”
“It seems so, Inspector, it seems so. Excellent, excellent,” Dunham said with a grin. “I like the way this is shaping up. You know, Inspector, it struck me the other day that I simply have to make you head of Section Six. That way, you’ll be free to act on your judgement and instincts. Because, knowing you, you’ll do it anyway, and at least this way, it’s official.”
“Yes, Sire. Thank you, Sire,” Ashton replied, his lips twitching; he knew exactly what case Dunham was referencing, and Dunham knew that he knew.
And they both broke into laughter.
After a bit more administrative discussion, as well as more question-and-answer, the two men decided matters were as settled as they could be at that point.
“Very good,” Dunham said. “Now, Mr. Ashton, I want you to start mulling over how you want your organization structured, but I’m placing the entire personnel records of all Imperial Police officers throughout the Empire at your availability, as well as those about to graduate from the Police Academy. And you may also work with the Palace intelligence staff, which falls under the auspices of the Imperial Guard – if need be, they can go on loan for certain activities, and certainly the intelligence staff of the Guard can and should obtain and feed you information… and that will include the Imperial Marines, as their backup, which makes for quite a broad range of intelligence information. So you have the full gamut from which to select your people. And should you recruit from other sources known to you, that is acceptable as well, provided they’re trustworthy.” He pushed Ashton three files, which VR represented as handing Ashton three thick folders. “These are only the pointers; we may also be able to play some games around pulling police officers offline to work for you on a temporary basis… or not. It’s up to you, how you think it should work. But let me tell you about something else Milady Empress and I have worked out for you…”
In short order, Ashton was apprised of the ability to use Stauss Interstellar as the cover for Section Six’s operations… and had declined the opportunity to meet Otto Stauss.
“After all, he needs the deniability,” Ashton noted. “And the less he knows about me, the better. In fact,” he considered, “I should likely see to developing a few more avatars that look as unlike me as possible, as well as a couple of alternate names, instead of just one…”
“True,” Dunham agreed. “To all of that. However, I wanted you to have the chance to determine Mr. Stauss’ loyalties yourself, if you wanted, Inspector Ashton.”
“That’s appreciated, Your Majesty, but the knowledge that you trust him so, and the story of why, is sufficient for my purposes at this time, I believe,” Ashton concluded. “As soon as the matter of the diagnosis is worked out, I’ll chat with Director Carter, put in my early medical retirement, and start the process of moving to Flanders with my family.”
“I’ll see to it as soon as we finish here, Inspector. You should have your diagnosis, as well as the ‘must retire’ prognosis, in an hour or so.”
“Thank you, Sire.”
“Meanwhile, I think there is one last thing that wants doing,” Dunham said. He waved his hand and produced a small black-velvet-covered box, the sort in which medals were kept. He opened it, depicting the contents to Ashton; it was a golden laurel wreath in two sizes – a small lapel pin and a larger medal on a ribbon. “This is the Gratitude of the Throne,” Dunham went on. “You have done remarkable things over the course of your career, Inspector Ashton – things that have ensured the integrity of the Throne, the stability of the Throne, and the continuance of the line of rulers of this star empire. It is rare to award it, and never done except by the sitting ruler. But I should have done this long ago. It does come with a sizeable monetary award, which is even now being deposited in your account. The medals themselves will be delivered shortly. Congratulations, Inspector.”
“Thank you, Sire,” Ashton said, deeply honored.
Dunham bowed his head and cut the channel.
As Ashton came up from the intense conversation in VR, he found no less a one than Brigadier General David Mercer waiting outside his open office door. Past Mercer stood or sat a curious horde of investigators of all seniorities, and Lee Carter stood in
