“Whom do you wish us to call?” General Carter asked, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Major Valari Ivanevna Kominskiya.” The Russian’s voice grated on Grisha’s nerves.
“So ordered.” General Carter nodded to his captain and the man vanished once more.
Benny leaned over and muttered to Grisha, “That bitch can’t be alive.”
“I told you she’s tough,” Grisha whispered back.
The door opened and the Confederate lieutenant pushed a wheelchair into the room. A beefy female Russian Army nurse followed him. A figure wrapped in dark shawls sat in the chair.
At first Grisha thought they had brought in a child, because he could see the person’s legs ended a half meter above the foot plate. Then he realized that Valari had suffered as Benny wished.
The nurse walked around to Valari’s side and pulled off the heavy shawl. The tribunal recoiled. In a prayerlike voice a Canadian general muttered, “Christ wept!”
Both legs ended at mid shin. Both of her arms, crossed on her lap, stopped at the wrist. Teeth and pink gums shone through an oddly serrated mouth and Grisha realized her lips were gone. But what remained of her nose, unnaturally bobbed with exaggerated nostrils running up between her closed eyes, proved the most horrific feature.
“Jesus Christ,” Benny breathed softly. Then in a louder voice he said,
“You kept her alive for this farce. And you have the guts to accuse Grisha of war crimes?”
Valari’s eyes opened. Her gaze darted over the tribunal before she found Grisha and Benny. The hard intelligence still resided but something else tempered her stare-longing.
“Grsh,” she said wetly with what remained of her tongue. She said something else, completely foreign.
“What did she say?” Grisha asked the nurse.
The nurse stared into his eyes.”
“What?” Benny asked.
Grisha spoke loud enough for all to hear. “She said: ‘Grisha, please kill me. Please!’”
“Nurse,” General Carter said. “Kindly remove your patient to the waiting room.”
The blocky nurse wrapped the shawl around Valari.
“Peas!” Valari shouted, her face a nightmarish mask.
The nurse pushed the chair through the door held open by the whitefaced captain.
“Peas!” echoed back through the door before it closed on the desperate voice.
“Colonel Jackson,” General Carter said in a hushed voice. “Be careful what you wish for in the future, sir, you might once again get it.”
The general raised his voice, “Colonel Grigorievich, thank you for your presence. It is obvious to this court that you are innocent of the charges brought against you and you are free to return to your command. This tribunal is concluded.”
Not until the last of the gold-braided judges had trooped out of the room did Grisha realize Benny was sobbing quietly.
65
“This has all been bullshit,” Claude said, pacing around the room.
“Nathan and the War Council instructed us to boycott the tribunal to avoid the appearance of Russia ordering us around. We knew you didn’t do it, and so did the Russians. So why did we have to go through this charade?”
“To buy time, to assess our strength, to dump every soldier they have into Alaska,” Grisha said tiredly. “How is your part going?” He drank off the remainder of his tea and set the cup down. The ambassador’s residence outshone anything in his prior experience. The building commanded a hill overlooking San Francisco Bay. With the sun sinking slowly on a liquid horizon, the view equaled the splendor of Denali, but in a much different way.
“It’s as if we were a catalyst, causing every festering grievance in North America to pop like a pustule.” Claude shook his head. “The Russians are dragging their heels at every turn. I agree, they’re obviously stalling, probably pouring troops into Alaska by the plane-load like you said.
“The Californians and the First People’s Nation are pressing hard for resolution, but they make very strange bedfellows. The Texans are firmly backing the Confederate States, who are backing the British—” Claude took a deep breath. “—who are allying with the French and the Spanish. And the Spanish are rattling sabers on the Texas border!”
Grisha scratched his head. “This is really mixed up.”
Claude grinned and continued, “The United States seems smug but supportive of us and solicitous of the Republic of California. The French and the Spanish are here purely out of avarice. The British Canadians are, oddly enough, firmly in the Russian camp and display animosity toward the United States, probably remembering their colony breaking away from them and now commiserating with another crown.”
“What about the men in black?” Grisha asked.
“The religious fanatics from Deseret are like Stellar’s jays back homethey’ll take what shiny trinkets they can get and then fly back to their nest. They are of no consequence to us. I think all the posturing will be over soon, and to our benefit.”
“The U.S. contingent seemed very friendly toward the Russians,” Grisha said. “Are you sure the U.S. is siding with us?”
“The U.S. has its own internal problems. The current administration is liberal and, as you know, the military rarely leans in that direction.”
“I want to get back to my command, as soon as possible.”
Claude smiled. “Spoken like a true soldier.” He flopped in his chair.
“I wish I could go home.”
“You can arrange to have me flown north?”
“I’ll try.” Claude picked up a telephone. “This is Ambassador Adams. I wish to arrange transport for Colonel Grigorievich back to the Dena Republik as soon as possible. Yes, thank you.” He replaced the phone.
“Day after tomorrow.” Claude seemed pleased.
“Why so long? It didn’t take them that long to pull me out of Alaska. Are they using all their aircraft for something else?”
“Grisha, we are their guests. Two days is nothing in the greater scheme of things.”
“Diplomatically perhaps, but a battle can be lost in a hell of a lot less time than that,” Grisha snapped.
The door flew open and Andreivich rushed in. “Quick, turn on the radio,” the old scholar said, panting.
Claude picked up a button-covered device and clicked it. The large speaker built into the wall immediately broadcast a voice, no static, no distortion; Grisha thought it sounded like the person speaking was in the room with them. The man seemed intoxicated.
“…and I know that’s why your government is willing to help the Athabascans.” The man spoke with a Russian accent.
“There’s more than minerals involved, Konni,” a Yankee voice said.
“There is a people yearning to be free.”
“What crap, James!” The Russian swallowed something and the smack of a glass being set on a table with undue force came though clearly.
“We’re both adults here. Don’t give me grandmother tales. You couldn’t even deal with your own aboriginals; they ended up with enough land to double the size of your country. You’re after the gold, and the oil, and the silver, and the coal, and the lead, and the fish, and the whales—all of it—just like all the other NATO nations. And the Czar won’t give it up without a fight.”
An entirely different voice broke in. “To repeat, this tape was obtained this morning. We have just learned that the Russian government pulled out of NATO negotiations on Russian America this afternoon and continues mobilizing on the disputed Dena border.”
