He rolled his shoulders a couple of times to restore circulation. I need to be back in the field. I was a fool to let ex-Chief Tortha talk me into taking this job. He thought back to his last meeting with the Paratime Commissioners and their not so veiled threat to officially reprimand him if he didn't stay at Paratime Police Headquarters: "We strongly suggest no more outtime trips. It's your job to oversee and run the largest constabulary in the Five Levels, not to protect your outtime friends!"
Verkan was not a politician, nor even the least bit fond of the breed. He despised useless staff meetings, memos, red tape (a very useful Fourth Level Europo-American term) and all the other products of professional paper shufflers and bean counters.
On the other hand, the work he performed for the Department was necessary and important; someone had to oversee the men and women who protected Home Time Line and provide controls over those who might otherwise exploit the outtimers ruthlessly. I don't mind that part of the job, I just wish it was someone else doing all the administering.
Dalla had warned him that it might come to this. He suspected his friend Kalvan, sailing in the Hassfryth Sea toward Thagnor City, might feel the same way. Although, Kalvan had it worse; he had almost half a million dependents, women and children whose lives depended upon his decisions and leadership. What Kalvan didn't have were cadres of trained and skilled investigators and officers to back him up, as Verkan did. While Verkan might be an important cog in the Paratime exploitation machine, he wasn't solely responsible for the safety and protection of Home Time Line, as Kalvan was for his subjects.
He shook his head. That was more responsibility than he wanted to contemplate.
He did know that he was very tired of taking orders and dodging bureaucratic bullets and political snipers. Maybe it's time to go visit Kalvan and let the Paratime Commission do what it has to do, he thought.
His intercom beeped. "Chief," his secretary intoned, "Deputy Bureau Chief, Altarn Vor, to see you."
"Send him right in."
The Bureau Chief strode in with his jaw outthrust. "Chief, we've got big problems."
"What now?"
"I had a couple of auditors go over to stores and they've spent the last ten-day trying to reconcile the on-hand and accounted-for inventory. You could manage a small belt with all the missing material!"
"What kind of material, Altarn?"
"Needlers, slug-throwers, anti-grav lifts, food stuffs, conveyers-just about anything you'd need to work outtime."
"Conveyers missing! That's the first I've heard of that. Are you sure Deputy Inspector Barton stole all this stuff?"
"Well, we don't know for sure if it's just lost, misplaced or stolen-yet! We'd like to interview him about all this stuff, but unfortunately, he's missing."
"What do you mean, missing?"
"Chief, he must have gotten wind of our audit. I had an appointment with him for this afternoon; I was going to grill him good. But he's not in the Paratime Building and none of his subordinates know where he is."
"This is bad, very bad. How many conveyers are missing?"
"Hundreds, maybe thousands, Chief," Altarn said, shaking his head. "We may never know. It appears Department of Stores and Equipment computer inventory has been tampered with. Who knows what he's been up to?"
"Well, we'd better find out before word of this disaster leaks out."
II
Great Queen Rylla had been holding audience in the Traitor Nestros' former Royal Hall for most of the afternoon. She was seated on the Fireseed Throne to lend more majesty to the ceremonial audiences she was giving to their new subjects. It appeared that most of them were making a big effort to impress their new Queen. Unfortunately, there was a lot she didn't know; Rylla had far more would-be-advisors than good information.
General Baldour was unfamiliar with the Rathoni court and nobility, as was everyone else that had come from Hostigos. Fortunately, General Klestreus had made lists of known Hostigi sympathizers and of those who had supported Nestros in his bid to become Great King. Unfortunately, the great majority of their new subjects were unknown. Klestreus was at work setting up a diverse group of informants from scullery maids to younger sons of the local nobility; before leaving the Hostigi Secret Service would know more about the Rathoni than they knew about themselves.
Rylla didn't envy King Chartiphon the job she was dropping into his arms, although he appeared rejuvenated by his new position. He'd even found a wife among the top nobility, the Lady Sylvra. She was the widow of a Duke with two daughters; no sons to cloud the succession issue, since Chartiphon was twenty winters her senior. After her husband's death, most of her lands were confiscated by Nestros who needed the gold to pay for all the temples he'd promised Styphon's House.
Sylvra was clearly no friend of the former King and young enough to bear Chartiphon the heirs he needed to solidify his crown and Hostigos' claim on Rathon. While she was happy for Chartiphon, Rylla knew that she would miss his presence and strong shoulder.
Highpriest Mytron, who was acting Chancellor, introduced the next petitioner as Prince Daklon of the Princedom of Vysta.
"Your Majesty," he said, as he approached the Throne on bended knees.
"Rise," she ordered. "We are not Styphoni or the king of Greffa who demands his vassals grovel or beg from their knees." She remembered him from the oath-giving ceremony, where four of Nestros former princes swore their fealty and allegiance to Nos-Hostigos and their new Great King and Queen.
Prince Daklon, who wore a golden crown with a bird's-egg sized diamond and had a gray beard that almost touched his belt, rose awkwardly to his feet. "Your Majesty, I had hoped to speak to you in private before I left, but this is as good a time as any."
"Please speak openly, I value candor in my subjects," Rylla declared.
"I know Your Majesty is unfamiliar with Hos-Rathon and our borders, but the Princedom of Vysta is to the west of the Kingdom of Cyros and south of Rathon City. Vysta Town does not have the great walls of Rathon and we are easy prey if the Grand Host decides to skirt Rathon City and go south. Can Your Majesty offer us any protection from Styphon's Grand Host?"
Rylla knew better than to make promises she couldn't keep. However, she did want to ensure the loyalty of their new vassals-even though she knew her husband would not be happy with her "empire building," as he called it. On the other hand, she did have more soldiers with her than they might be able to feed through the coming winter. They'd already had a number of Nyklosi desertions; maybe she'd give them two thousand of the Nyklosi stiffened with two companies of Royal soldiers.
"To show Our concern, I will provide you with an escort of two thousand soldiers."
The Prince brightened up. "Thank you, Your Majesty!"
He probably didn't expect anything but some sympathy, she thought. However, it's always nice when you can solve two problems with one decree and get credit for it.
The next petitioner was King Zythos of the Kingdom of Cyros. There were all too many kings in the Upper Middle Kingdoms for her liking, but she wouldn't make any friends, or allies, by demoting legitimate rulers. Thus, she would have to learn to "live and let live" as Kalvan always said.
"Your Majesty," Zythos said, bowing deeply. He was a saturnine man with deep blue piercing eyes and a gunmetal-colored beard.
"Yes, King Zythos. What can We do for you?"
"Your Majesty, I would like compensation for my losses in the current war, and your guarantee of protection from the Styphoni who are following upon your heels."
Rylla didn't know whether to laugh or cry at these outrageous requests. She held up her forefinger. "First, you're lucky I don't have your head for resisting our force when we first entered Cyros."
"I was following the orders of my lawful ruler!"
"No, you were not. You were taking orders from a Styphon's House puppet, a traitor who gave up all claims to his throne and kingdom the moment he cut a deal with his masters from Balph! However, in your defense, you were not legally bound to Hostigos through any treaty or agreement. So We will not hold you responsible for war reparations for whatever damage you did to Our Army upon its passage through your territory."
The look of astonishment on Zythos face made Rylla wish she had one of those cameras that Kalvan told her about; she would have loved to take his picture and share this moment with him.
"Secondly," she continued. "You have not sworn to Us or to King Chartiphon and thus have no claim upon our protection, or for any aid in compensation for any damages suffered during the Army of the Trygath's passage through Cyros. In fact, King Chartiphon will order all Cyros' subjects to leave the walls of Rathon City upon my leave-taking."
Zythos' face was as white as bone. "Your Majesty, there is no other place for my people to go. If you order my subjects to evacuate Rathon, you will have condemned them to death, either by the Styphoni invaders or the Trygathi barbarians."
Rylla paused to rein in her temper. "Ask Styphon's generals for protection. See what they tell you!"
Zythos fell to his knees, imploring her with raised hands. "Please, Your Majesty, I beg you not to evict my people! The Styphoni have no honor and will kill us for not resisting your invasion."
"It appears you know Styphon's House well. Then you only have two choices: either swear fealty to Ourself and to King Chartiphon, or flee Rathon. I have too many of my own subjects to worry about yours, or those of other rulers we pass. However, if you are sworn, then it is Our duty to protect you as We would Ourselves."
"Then I swear fealty to Your Majesty and Great King Kalvan right now upon my knees."
Rylla removed her sword, and tapped him upon the head with the point, a ceremony she had learned from Kalvan. "You are now the vassal of Hos-Hostigos and Nos-Hostigos, which rules all lands west of the Pyromannes Mountains formerly known as the Trygath. In the name of the True Gods, I pronounce you King Zythos of Cyros."
The audience chamber roared with cheers, led by Prince Sarrask and King Chartiphon who were both deep into their cups. That was another picture Rylla would have loved to take and share with her husband. The two former deadly enemies were now hanging onto each others' shoulders leading toasts to "Nos-Hostigos!" and "Long live Queen Rylla!"