"Captain, you there?" she asked.
"Aye. We got it all, too," the CO said.
"Yeah," Roger chimed in. "Every goddamned bit of it."
"I want suggestions," Pahner went on. "Julian, you first."
"We need to go with the plan, Sir. At least at first. Like the guy said, right now I don't see a way around it."
"Don't worry about us," Roger said. "I don't know if Captain Pahner fully agrees, but I believe we'll be able to hold our own if most of the guards are involved in the assault."
Pahner's sigh was audible over the radio.
"I don't like it, but I more or less agree."
"We should be able to turn the tables on the ground," Jasco said, shaking his head. "But it's gonna be a helluva fight at the bridge, and then we'll be in a running battle all the way up to the palace."
"Actually, Sir," Kosutic said, thinking about the terrain, "the problem will be on this side."
"Correct," Pahner agreed. "If formed forces make it to the city, you'll be fighting every step of the way through that warren. That sort of fighting will whittle us down to nothing. If you have to fight street-to-street, we might as well surrender now."
"So you think that if the Marshad army is on the Pasule side of the river—and stays there—then the Company can relieve us?" Roger asked carefully.
"Yes," the Marine said after a moment's thought. "We'll still take some casualties. But if we can get some assurances that the Pasule forces will cover our retreat, we should be all right. However, we still face the problem of how to keep them from cross..." His voice trailed off. Then—"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking, Your Highness?" He asked carefully.
"Maybe. It depends on whether or not we can smuggle one of the Mardukans out of the visitors' quarters."
"Yeah," Julian and Kosutic said almost simultaneously. The two NCOs looked at each other and laughed.
"If we can get some armor for one of the Three Musketeers, I can rig a camera and radio," Julian said. "I've got the gear packed."
"I can coach him through the rigging, and Denat is fairly good with knots," Kosutic added rubbing her ear.
"What are we talking about?" Jasco asked.
The group trooped back into the stifling kitchen to confront the spies.
"We're in agreement," Kosutic said. "However, we have a few questions to ask and some requirements that must be met for us to be willing to proceed."
"Oh?" Bijan said. "And if I reject your demands?"
"We tell the king about your treason just before we tear this pathetic city to the ground," the sergeant major said quietly. "It will practically wipe us out to do it, but the 'not difficult' plan you just suggested will do the same thing. So are you going to listen? Or do we start now?"
The spy looked down at her for a moment, then grunted in laughter.
"Very well, Sergeant Major Kosutic. What are your demands?
"Questions first," the NCO said. "How secret are all these passages?"
"There's only one to this building," Bijan said, "which is why we came in here, but there are a few others in strategic spots throughout the city. As far as I know, Radj Hoomas doesn't know a thing about this one... or about any of the others, for that matter. This one was created during the construction of this building, which predated the rise of the House of Radj."
"Then how did you know of it?" Jasco asked, deciding that he had to get at least one word in.
"I showed him," the female spy replied. "My mother's family was involved in the construction. They were masons from Voitan, and my mother knew of it from her mother."
Kosutic was sorely tempted to ask why Voitan women seemed to be the only ones on Marduk with any freedom, but decided it was a side issue. Fixing the problems of the Company came first. Although, she reflected, Roger's plan would certainly free up a few social constraints in Marshad.
"Okay," she said. "That has that covered. The reason we needed to know is that we need to smuggle one or two of our Mardukan allies out."
"Why?" Bijan demanded angrily. "This will make it much more likely that we'll be discovered! Those barbarians don't even speak the language!"
"What?" Julian snapped. "You have no barbarians in your city? No visitors whatsoever?"
"A few," Bijan admitted reluctantly. "But they're mainly from Kranolta tribes, and there are very few at the moment. They're mostly traders in hides and jungle medicines."
"Good," Kosutic said. "We have a mass of those we collected on the march, and he can take some with him as a cover. Also, before he goes, he'll need an armor apron and a helmet."
"No!" Bijan snarled. "No fighting. I don't know what your plan is, but he won't destroy all I've worked for! I'll wait for a better chance, if that's what it takes!"
"No, you won't," Kosutic told him with another toothy smile, "because if this goes wrong, I will follow you to Hell to spit on your soul. Do I make myself clear?"
They stared at one another for a long time, until, finally, the Mardukan clapped his hands reluctantly.
"Very well. One of them. I'll get appropriate armor and a helmet." He paused. "But if he gives away our preparations, on your head be it."
"He'll have a mission, which he'll divulge to you as he goes," the sergeant major said. "You will support it fully." She gestured with her head at the female spy. "And that one will be the primary control. Do you understand?"
"I'm in charge here—" Bijan started to say.
"No," Kosutic interrupted with a shake of her head. "Fate, chaos, and destruction are in charge here, spy. The faster you figure out how to ride the whirlwind, the better."
CHAPTER FIFTY
Denat padded through the trackless dark of nighttime Marshad, following the dimly perceived shape of the female in front of him.
The stench of the lower warrens was unbelievable, an effluvia of chemicals from dyes, rotting carcasses, shit, and misery. He'd visited Q'Nkok often, and although there had been many poor, it had never seemed as if the entire city was destitute. But in Marshad, he hadn't seen a single sign of relative wealth. It appeared that there were only king's advisers, and the penniless.
As his guide passed one of the tunnel-like alleys, a figure emerged from the deeper shadows and grabbed the little female by the arm.
Denat's orders had been to follow and, as much as possible, to avoid notice, so he stepped sideways into the deeper blackness along the alleyway, turning to put the heavy sack he carried against the wall. The little guide, Sena, had heartily endorsed the importance of his avoiding attention, and added an injunction against coming to her aid. She was confident of her own abilities. Or so she said.
Now Denat saw why. The confrontation was brief, and ended when the accoster suddenly flew into a wall. There was another flicker of movement as the two shapes merged, a horn flashed, and then the little female continued on, leaving a crumpled, life-oozing shape sprawled in the noisome alley.
Denat stepped around the growing, sticky puddle and followed his guide into the deeper blackness. There was just enough filtered light in the intersection for him to see that the thug's head was barely attached to his body. He'd heard of the enat techniques, but Sena was the first practitioner of the art he'd ever met, and he resolved to treat the guide with the greatest possible respect.