10 Aggravating Allies
AGGRAVATING ALLIES
I SLEPT WELL enough to haul my weary self out of bed early, dress, and reach the dining room before most of the Commonwealth diplomats.
That’s not to say I was chipper. I’d not had my morning tea.
Colonel Boleslaw was already seated. The woman never seemed to sleep.
I wondered if she had a circadian regulator wired into her brain, or if she was just one of those lucky sots who were fine on six hours a night.
“Captain Boylan. Glad to see you’re awake. I wanted to talk with you.”
“May I grab some tea and breakfast first?” I asked.
“Please do. And snag me another jammy doughnut while you’re over there. I can never resist a good jammy doughnut.”
I fetched Boleslaw her doughnut, but went more savory fare for myself.
Eggs, bangers, sourdough toast. I’d lost my taste for sweets after years of bland, energy-dense, protein-rich rations at the star front.
The thought of Boleslaw’s rich confection, filled with berry jam and liberally dusted with powdered sugar, made my teeth hurt.
Shortbread biscuits were about as sweet as I could go.
I hesitated over the breakfast spread. “Is there a problem?” Boleslaw asked.
“There don’t seem to be any eggs,” I said.
Boleslaw laughed. “You don’t expect the prince to dine upon pre-made eggs, do you?”
“It served us soldiers well enough, and we were happy to get them,” I dryly replied.
“Then allow me to reacquaint you with the wonders of fine dining.” Boleslaw clapped her hands, and Wiktor appeared beside my elbow.
“Yes, sir?”
“Fetch Captain Boylan one of your famous fried bacon and eggy sandwiches.”
“Immediately, sir.” Without so much as a puff of smoke, Wiktor vanished.
Boleslaw took a moment to enjoy her doughnut, managing to take a bite without dripping any red jam on her white cravat.
Even with my own sumptuous food coming, I found myself despising that doughnut.
Another reminder of the soft delicacies of peace I’d long left behind.
In a fit of pique, I asked, “Did you perform another diplomatic reconnaissance last night?”
“I did,” Boleslaw replied, glancing at me over her pastry. “Does this bother you?”
“People like me are dying at the front while we screw around here,” I said snappishly.
Boleslaw set the rest of her sweet treat on her plate and put it aside, leaning forwards on her elbows before she spoke.
“It may not seem like it to you, but what we’re doing here is every bit as important as your sacrifices at the star front.
This ‘screwing around’ is not all fun and games.
You must identify who has the information you want, then convince them you either have some other information they want or a body they desire in exchange.
Then it’s generally suffering some powdered old noble, far too satisfied with themselves, to get their jollies off while you pump them for information.
Not all of us get the luxury of seducing beautiful, nubile youths like yourself. ”
“What about the prince?” I asked. “He always flirts with the most beautiful women.”
“Prince Aureli excels at flirtation, and thus gets first choice of targets for information extraction. He can access people who would never think of spending a night with you or me. Like d’Lyre.
I’d love to know what that woman is thinking, but she won’t spare me a second glance.
Prince Aureli might get her to let something slip while he slips into her bed.
But in the end, he is still just a tool used for the good of the Commonwealth, like you or me. ”
I snorted. “At least you’re only getting literally fucked by our allies. When the Empire figuratively fucks us at the front, we don’t recover so well.”
“You’re the only one fucking an Imperial at the moment. None of us have been able to entice any demons.”
“I’m not having sex with the Emperor,” I said, but my brain unhelpfully added, not yet. Despite my anger at her for having abandoned me, for having set the war in motion, part of me wanted nothing more than to take her to a bedroom and let her rip all my clothes off.
“Truly?” Boleslaw asked. “Then what did you do last night?”
“The Emperor wished to apologize in person for Count Gretsky’s attempt on my life. That’s all,” I said. I don’t know why I lied, concealed Astrid’s admission of love, but I could not bring myself to share my secret amore with the lascivious diplomatic service.
Boleslaw picked up her teacup. “I see. So did we learn anything interesting last night?”
I learned that my Astrid is gone. I shook my head. “Honestly, I think I learned more from Darius than I did the Emperor.”
“You should watch out for your friend Darius. He may play the pretty-boy princeling, but he’s a seasoned warrior and capable commander.
He’s slain a dozen men in single combat, and he personally led the Yezhidian space forces during the blitzkrieg into the Silesia cluster,” Boleslaw said, all her joking mannerisms suddenly gone.
“He’s not my friend,” I replied, a little hotly.
I was reminding myself as much as Boleslaw.
The archduke’s charm could be overbearing, but Darius was fun to be around.
He almost made me forget his treason. The knowledge that Darius had lied to my face threw cold water on my warm feelings towards him.
“Though I thought you wanted us to get friendly with enemies of the Commonwealth,” I said, throwing Boleslaw’s advice back in her face.
“And you’re doing quite a job of it.” She leaned forwards a little more. “A word of warning from an old hand at this sort of game. It’s easy to get sucked into your own performance. While you’re acting friendly with the enemy, make certain not to make them your friends.”
She seemed genuinely concerned, but I couldn’t tell if her worry was for me, or if she saw me as one more weak link in her nation’s security. Well, it was my damned nation, too.
“Thank you, sir. I will remember.” I snagged a biscuit.
Turning it over in my hands, wondering at the basic opulence enjoyed by people behind the star front, I inhaled deeply, then closed my mouth and let the chestful of air hiss out my nose.
How could a diplomatic creature like Boleslaw understand what soldiers like me had gone through to get here?
“Things were much simpler at the front. Kill your enemies; protect your comrades.”
“Do you regret joining us here?” Boleslaw asked.
I waved my half-eaten biscuit at the splendor around me. “And miss all of this? Not on your life.” It was a convenient excuse to cover up my dejection at having reunited with Astrid only to have circumstances pull us apart all over again.
“And what about joining the army? Do you regret that?”
I paused, the second half of my biscuit in my tea.
I left it too long, and the greater portion fell into my drink, slopping hot tea onto my hands.
“It seemed the right move at the time. Royal Colonial was my ticket into Parliament. I mean, I would have preferred to make the Exploratory Service, but my grades were never good enough. It was always the cavalry for me. If you’re asking if I wish there’d been no war, then yes.
If you’re asking if I wish the war had gone differently for me, well, what officer does not hope for promotion?
But if you’re asking if I regret defending my Queen and my country, then no. I have no regrets on that account.”
Boleslaw nodded, a curious grin curling behind her coffee, as though I’d answered exactly as she had expected.
Another thought came to me. “The Emperor did mention one thing last night. She apologized for Gretsky’s attack, then said his actions were not in keeping with her ‘new Imperium.’”
That got Boleslaw’s attention. Her pupils dilated like saucers as she sat back in her chair. “New Imperium? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, but I have a thought. You read my report on Imperial politics, how they govern via assassination?” Boleslaw nodded. “What if the Emperor is trying to create a more modern form of government? A functioning bureaucracy, able to rule their space through order instead of fear.”
Boleslaw’s eyes unfocused as she considered the possibility. “An intriguing idea. I’m not certain I like the idea of a more efficient Empire, though.”
“It could make them more amenable to a negotiated settlement,” I suggested.
“Or it could make them more efficient invaders,” she replied. “Still, it’s good information. I’ll follow up on it.”
“Follow up on what?” the Duke of Lynwyzc said as he sauntered into the room, pulling at the hem of his waistcoat to position it correctly.
I noticed a woman in a disheveled Despotate uniform rapidly doing up her buttons as she hastily dashed from the prince’s apartments to escape the Commonwealth suite.
“The captain’s intelligence,” Boleslaw responded smartly, ignoring the departing Urgan.
“What, whether he has any?” Prince Aureli chuckled at his own joke, then gave me a playful punch on the shoulder. “Just kidding. So you found something useful during your nighttime excursion? Good job.” He sat at the head of the table and leaned back as a footman draped a napkin across his lap.
“What about you, Your Highness? Learn anything interesting last night?” Boleslaw asked.
“The damned Despotate continues to insist upon reparations. I told them that’s a fantasy, but they’re convinced they’re somehow winning this war.” Aureli shook his head. “Insanity. What about you?”
“The League is ready to return to pre-war borders, but Yezhidia’s demanding star systems from its neighbors. I don’t think I can convince the League or the Despotate to accept Yezhidian expansion.”