A few friends in high places would also do Blade no harm in the eyes of Chyatho's friends.
The lifter spiraled down to a landing at what Blade christened «Kaldak, Municipal Airport.» It was six acres of rough asphalt, surrounded by hangars, wooden repair shops, and what had to be stables.
Teamsters led out a long cart drawn by twelve oxen. The lifter rose again, then settled onto the cart. The teamsters cracked their whips, and the oxen hauled the lifter off toward one of the hangars.
Blade shook his head as he watched them go. The combination of the far future and the Middle Ages in this Dimension still held a few surprises for him.
The airport was so close to the city that Blade's party walked the rest of the way. That was one advantage of antigravity-you didn't need to put the airports halfway into the next county to give the planes room for landing and taking off. Theoretically you could land a lifter right in the middle of the city. However, if the generators failed, lifters didn't glide. They came down like falling bricks. It was better to have them digging holes in farmers' fields than in the roofs of apartment buildings.
The road was crowded with traffic moving both ways in a fog of dust. Blade saw munfans-the kangaroo-like animals he had witnessed last visit oxen, animals whose remote unmutated ancestors might have been something like horses, and lots of human porters. Every so often a Fighting Machine came whining along, making the dust worse and driving everyone to the edge of the road as it wavered past.
Halfway to the city they crossed a bridge over a canal which hadn't been there on Blade's first visit. He watched munfans and oxen pulling barge-loads of grain and timber along it. To the right of the bridge a gang of slaves was reinforcing the canal bank with slabs of stone. Blade caught their rank smell and heard the curses and whipcracks of the overseers. From the number of mutants among the slaves, they were probably Tribesmen.
Ezarn took Blade's preoccupation with all the sights and sounds of the new Kaldak for nervousness. «I know how you must be feelin',» he said cheerfully. «Me, too. Damned commanders can mess you up bad as Doimari, but you can't fight back. Leastways, if you shoot a commander, it makes a big fart.»
Kaldak itself was still centered around the three towers Blade remembered, with eighteen streets radiating from them. Most of the buildings along the streets were the same, although cleaner. Some showed signs of repair with metal and cement instead of wood or stone.
A fringe of Newtec buildings surrounded the towers, rising to nearly half their height, One was still under construction-Blade saw a steam-powered crane hauling a metal beam aloft. Three of the eighteen streets were now public gardens and one was a market with shops and covered booths along both sides.
A fifth was now the parade ground for the army units quartered in Kaldak. Barracks, warehouses, and garages for the Fighting Machines jostled each other for room on either side. Blade's party went up this street to the headquarters of the High Commander in the tower at the far end.
Sidas had been a well-built, good-looking young warrior. He was still physically impressive, although his brown face was lined and his black hair was turning gray. He'd grown a bushy mustache and added a few pounds from sitting too long behind desks. He'd also added a shrewd, penetrating stare. The stare said plainly that he'd seen practically everything and it wasn't wise to try keeping secrets from him.
For someone in Blade's position, that stare was almost as unpleasant as the Doimari rocket barrage. He would have liked to think the stare was an act, but doubted it. Sidas had been one of the quickest learners among the warriors of Kaldak and must have stayed that way. Otherwise Kareena wouldn't have married him. Now he had all his natural intelligence plus thirty more years of experience. If anyone was likely to pierce the secret of Blade's identity, it would be Sidas.
Sidas walked up and down in front of Blade, Ezarn, and the other four men receiving medals today. He wore a plain green coverall, but his boots were leatherworkers' masterpieces, polished until they shone like glass. They also squeaked like angry mice with every step, until Blade was ready to grit his teeth.
Finally Sidas stopped in front of Blade. His eyes showed no sign of recognition as he pulled a small box out of his belt pouch. «You know the Intelligence people want your hide now?» he said conversationally.
«No, sir. I didn't know.»
«No reason for you to, either. It's secret, and stays that way.» He fixed everyone in the room with a glare which promised death by slow torture for anyone with a loose tongue.
«We didn't learn anything from those Doimari you grabbed. Not an un-Lawful thing! Two of them didn't know anything, and the other died under the truthseer.»
Some sort of hypnotic compulsion, probably, thought Blade. The Doimari must really think their secret weapon is worth protecting. Aloud, he said, «I'm sorry about that, sir.»
«No way you could have known, Voros. No way at all. And that's what I've told the Intelligence people, and if they say anything more I'll throw them all into a pile of munfan dung! So you get the Star of Honor. Here.» He handed the box to Blade. «For heroism, courage, and so on. You and your comrades know how well you did, and I'll leave the pretty words to someone else.» He moved on to the next soldier.
Blade opened the box and saw a seven-pointed bronze star with «Honor» on it in Kaldakan script. He hung it around his neck, glad to have the High Commander's attention turned elsewhere for the moment. The less Sidas saw of him, the happier he would feel.
Right now Blade felt frustrated to the point of anger. He'd suspected that the Doimari might have some protection against interrogation. He'd even thought of mentioning the suspicion to the officers. But the company commander wouldn't have listened. The Intelligence people might have wondered how Private Voros came by this knowledge. Once again, he couldn't do half as good a job as he wanted to, because of the bloody be damned Dimension X secret!
At last Sidas returned to Blade. «Voros,» he said abruptly. «You can go to the Commander's School if you want to. You've got a commander's head on your shoulders. You're a damned fine private, but you'll be better leading a platoon. Even a Company, maybe, before long, if the Tribesmen think Doimari weapons will let them go on fighting us. What do you say?»
«Sir, I'm honored. I accept.»
«I was hoping you'd say that.» They shook hands, and Sidas moved on again. Blade heard him offering equally generous rewards to the other men. One, who'd been badly wounded and was still on crutches, accepted early retirement on full pension. Another wanted a transfer to the Fighting Machine battalion of the City Regiment and got it. Ezarn asked for enough money so that his mother and sister could keep their farm.
Blade knew that he would be in the public eye as an officer cadet, still more as an officer leading troops. However, he was there already, thanks to his insisting on being a hero! Also, he'd passed the test with Sidas. Nobody else in Kaldak was as likely to recognize him. He wasn't safe by a long shot, but he could breathe a little easier.
He also had to admit that he wanted the greater freedom of action which would come with being an officer. As an officer, he wouldn't have to let Doimari take their secrets to the grave because he didn't dare speak up. And he wanted to help find out what the Doimari were up to. If he could help Kaldak without danger to the Dimension X secret, he would do it.