“If.”
“If,” Paul smiled. “The target is Balmoran. There are good piers there and a good natural harbor. We can move up the Sussain River and supply that way. And Celine has ‘Change’ personnel standing by.” He shrugged and grimaced at the thought. “The people of Norau don’t strictly need Change; they’ve demonstrated that they can survive in this world. But Change adds to our army.” He grimaced again and shrugged. “And if we can just win we can Change them back. As they are they are not just abominations but evil abominations.”
“I know you hate Change,” Megan said, “and the Changes that have had to be made.”
“Yes, I do,” Paul sighed. “But it’s for the best, really. The life that people have to live these days… If that bitch Sheida had just…”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be here for relaxation,” Megan said.
“I’m supposed to be here to make babies,” Paul replied, frowning. “Something that isn’t happening enough. I suppose because I’m not here enough.”
“Then stay here more,” Megan replied, logically. “There were more pregnancies when you were around more often.” Karie, Velva and Golda had all gotten pregnant during the time period.
“You didn’t get pregnant,” Paul pointed out, frowning. “I’ve scanned you. I know you’re fertile…”
“Paul?” Megan said, smiling thinly. “If you’re thinking of hurrying things along somehow, let me ask you a question. Do you really want me in the confinement quarters for nine months? Then gone for two years with my newborn?”
Paul frowned and opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Okay, I didn’t think so. So maybe we should just let nature take its course?” she asked, smiling.
“You… have a point,” Paul said, still frowning. “But you would make a great mother, I’m sure.”
“And I’m sure that in time I will,” she replied, rolling over on him. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Go ahead,” he said, leaning back.
“Why do you still have your clothes on?”
Megan looked at the vial for a moment and then tossed back the bitter brew, closing her eyes and wincing against the taste. When she had arrived in the harem, the only thing she knew about tansy was that it was dangerous to use and one of the few semieffective abortifacients available as an herb. She’d originally run across it as a poison, in fact, but the abortifacient properties had been stored in her sometimes overgenerous memory.
When she had first set up her “perfumery” she had ordered a large number of herbs, included among them, as a single line item, tansy. Paul had scanned the list on any number of occasions but had clearly never delved deeply into their properties; given the large number of herbs it would have been a mind-numbing exercise. It was one of the many things she hoped he never bothered to notice.
Over time she had experimented with it judiciously, slowly increasing the dosage until she began to feel unpleasant effects. Each time she was “with” Paul, she was careful to take the herbal infusion every few days for at least a week afterwards. So far, no pregnancy, which was fine by her.
She washed the bitter oils down with a glass of lemon water and picked up a few bottles of perfume for the girls.
Her effect was clear in the main gathering area of the harem. Where there had been bare stone walls and a few cushions thrown around a stone floor, there were now carpets, bright wall-hangings and low tables. There were even five cats, ranging from standard-sized tabbies up to a puma-sized “house lion.” The tables and pillows had been moved out of the way for the afternoon exercise program and the girls were well into a serious aerobics workout. The cats had had the sense to clear the area.
She was mostly exempt from the “mandatory” workouts since she tended to keep herself in shape. But she often joined in and after stretching a bit she took a place at the back of the group and started jogging with them.
As she did she scanned the girls, wondering what they would think if she ever managed to bring her plans to fruition. The harem was a boring place, but as safe and well-supplied as was possible post-Fall. When she killed Paul, all the safety and security would go away in that moment. Most of them had known enough of the post-Fall life to be frightened of leaving the harem. It was something that she kept in mind. Along with the fact that if any of them stayed, they were, effectively, doomed. She also worried about the women who had been taken away pregnant. She had no idea where the “confinement” quarters were. And any scenario that she envisioned, post-Paul, meant being on the very ragged edge of disaster. Timing would be everything. Trying to find the girls, to convince them to leave, might mean coming to blows with other council members. Not to mention that she wasn’t sure she could gain full control of Paul’s power immediately. Many of the programs that had been universally available pre-Fall had been locked under passwords.
There were thirteen women in the seraglio, including two new ones that Paul had “recovered” in the last year. There were seven, somewhere, either awaiting birth or with their children.
What she should do was take the women from the seraglio and run like hell.
But she didn’t know if she could do that.
“Shar,” Edmund said, taking the general’s hand as he slid off the dragon.
“Admiral Talbot,” Shar said then grinned. “Coming up in the world?”
“I think more like… sideways,” Edmund replied. “Joanna, you look like hell.”
The dragon did look exhausted but she grinned nonetheless.
“If memory serves, you owe me a couple of barbequed cows,” Joanna said.
Edmund gestured to the rear of a building where smoke could be seen ascending into the air.
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Where there is fire, there is barbeque.”
“I’m outta here,” the dragon said, stretching her legs and then stumping towards the fire.
“I wish you could have brought Evan,” Talbot said, gesturing towards the nearby temporary headquarters.
“Joanna was on the ragged edge of ability.” Shar shrugged. “Evan’s not that big of a guy, but I didn’t even bring a change of clothes. But I’ve brought some ideas of his we need to talk about.”
“The clothes we can get fixed,” the duke said, looking at Van Krief.
“Clothes for the general,” Van Krief said, noting it in her book.
“Aides?” Shar asked with a grin. “Where’s Herzer?”
“Putting the fear of Edmund into some supply personnel.”
“Captain, we’re working on it,” the major said, looking over his desk at Herzer. “I realize that the admiral isn’t aware of all the logistical aspects of this base, but…”
“I think the admiral is well aware of the ‘logistical aspects’ of this base, Major,” Herzer replied, smiling. “Which is why you are going to draw the supplies requested and you are going to prepare, as ordered, for the arrival of the Fleet.”
“Captain, the admiral can order all he would like,” the major said, smiling faintly and leaning back in his chair. “But the materials he has requested are administered by Navy Logistics Command, not by the local fleet commander or by the base commander. They are for resupply of the Fleet and not for any frivolous ‘welcome home’ party your general seems to think is a good idea. Your general does not have the authority to order their release. Certainly not for a nonoperational function.”