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118

Taglios:
A New Administration

I’m not ready to take over,” Suvrin argued.

“And I’m too old to come back,” I countered. “And the only other qualified person is in a coma.” Lady was not, literally, in a coma, but, practically speaking, the effect was the same. She had nothing to contribute.

Suvrin grumbled under his breath.

“Sleepy picked you. She thought you could handle it. She’s been giving you opportunities to get a feel for the job.” Sleepy was a big part of the problem. Her death, so sudden and cruel, had stricken everyone. Most of us were still in a daze.

I said, “We take too much time here; we’ll give the Children of the Dead too much time to think. We don’t want them looking at how bad the numbers thing has gone since they’ve been on our side of the glittering plain.”

A moment of self-loathing followed. That was exactly the sort of thinking I found repugnant in the Company’s employers.

Suvrin reflected briefly. “We can’t spend time grieving, can we? We have to go ahead. Or call it off.”

“No decision there. Go ahead. I’ve tried to get messages to Aridatha Singh. He seems like a good man, willing to put Taglios first. He might be willing to spare the city some pain.”

“If you can convince him that the Great General isn’t going to eat us alive. The way Tobo tells it, Mogaba isn’t particularly worried.”

“He will be. Once we get settled in here I just might take the girls general hunting.”

Suvrin still showed some of that pudgy, baby-fat look he had always had. He needed to get busy and develop the hardened, piratical look of a Captain.

He yielded to his hidden desires. “All right. I’ll be the Captain. But I reserve the right to quit.”

“Excellent. I’ll spread the word, then I’ll go smack Mogaba around.” My hatred for the Great General was no longer virulent, though. It was more like a bad habit these days.

“I’m the Captain now, right? Completely in charge?”

“Yeah.” Spoken with a twinge of suspicion.

“My first directive as Captain, then, is that you should stop putting yourself at risk.”

“Huh? What? But . . . ”

“Croaker, you’re the only one left who can keep the Annals. You’re the only one left who can read most of them. You didn’t finish teaching me and you haven’t trained anyone else. I don’t intend to lose our connection with our heritage. Not at this last stage. Therefore, henceforth, you’re not going anywhere that’ll put you at risk.”

“You sonofabitch. You jobbed me. You can’t do that.”

“I’m the Captain. Sure I can. I just did. I’ll have you restrained if that’s what it takes.”

“You won’t have to.” Because I buy into the whole Company mystique, like a religion. Because I cannot defy orders just because I do not like them. Ha-ha. How long would it take to find a way to weasel around this if I felt a genuine need? “But I wanted Mogaba.”

“We’ll catch him for you. Then you can skin him or whatever you want.”

I went out and spread the word that we had a new Captain and that the officers should attend him. Then I looked for Arkana, who was off somewhere wasting a valuable part of her life sleeping.

As I stumbled around, shivering because things unseen were everywhere in the night, I realized that Suvrin, unwittingly, had given me orders of critical importance. If I kept running around, getting into the middle of everything, and I got myself killed for my trouble, more than the Annals would die with me. So would the little plan I had worked out for fulfilling our commitment to Shivetya.

I had not shared that with anyone, and would not unless I was convinced I was dying.

Words never spoken cannot be overheard by sleeping Goddesses.



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