"Gentlemen," he said, "we have a program of work before us. I suggest that we begin."
Faintly through the doors and the thick stone, he could hear the soldiers chanting his name.
* * *
"Spirit damn you, get those drumsticks back! Don't drip grease on this!" Raj said again, resting his palms on the map.
The big room was buzzing with officers, administrators from Berg's contingent, and members of the Port Murchison city administration; few of those last had been Squadrones, anyway, and most seemed enthusiastic about the new order. Cork-boards were ranged around the walls, covering the murals, and maps and lists were pinned to them; more were scattered down the long glossy table. Suzette had gotten the household organized in record time, and Admiral Auburn's own servants were wheeling around trays and dispensing a working lunch. Some of the officers showed a tendency to gnaw on the honey-garlic sauroid sticks while leaning over important documents. .
"We've got to patrol vigorously," Raj went on, his finger tracing a circle around Port Murchison, "but not in penny-packets; Auburn's men will be trying to snap up foraging parties. Gerrin, see to it. Which reminds me-Muzzaf, what's the news on grain supply?"
"No more than two weeks currently, counting the extra mouths," the Komarite said, looking up from a huddle of clerks at the foot of the table.
"Right. Put out an offer for, hmmm, ten percent above current market for clean threshed grain, beans, meat, fruit, alfalfa fodder-payable in hard cash. The enemy will try to stop us, of course; coordinate with Gerrin. We can name collection points and use the captured wagons."
"Messer."
"Grammeck?"
The artilleryman flourished a pad. "Messer Raj, the walls are in a mess-crumbling on the outside, down to the rubble core in places. The city services-it's a pigsty, looks like nothing has been kept up in a century. You saw what the main avenue was like-the delivery pipes from the aqueduct blocked years ago, and the ham-handed pigs have never gotten them properly fixed. The sewer system-" He shuddered. "Don't ask."
"Do what you can; organize night-soil carts if you have to. I'm worried about the bull-rings"-where fifty thousand Squadron men, women, and children were crammed; plague was no respecter of nationalities.
He looked over at the halcalde, the mayor, a sleek-looking civilian named Carlo Arrias. "Messer Arrias, do you have anyone who knows the systems?"
"Certainly, Messer General," the man said, rubbing his hands together and grinning. Well, somebody's happy, at least. "The Squadrones would never authorize the funds-as long as the whorehouses and bars were open the city was working fine to their tastes; real warriors live out in the country." A trace of bitterness there. "There's emergency repairs we can do. A relief to finally get something done in this job."
"Grammeck, see to it; you can use on-duty units for labor, and prisoners when we've gotten them organized. Maximum priority on the defenses." His first impulse was bunkers and earthworks, but against the barbarians a nice high masonry wall would do, if it stood. "Then roads, here and around the city."
Thank the Spirit we didn't have to fight in the rainy season, he thought, sipping at a cup of soup. Even the main arteries near the city were in shocking condition.
"Will do, sir."
"Now, about billeting," Raj said. Arrias frowned.
"Messer general, couldn't more of the troops be accommodated in Squadron properties?"
Raj grinned. "Not until they've been properly inventoried and stripped," he said. "I can keep them from stealing too much from living, breathing fellow-citizens, but not from absent barb heretics. Speaking of which, Jorg; I want three full battalions of infantry on continuous patrol as guardia; I'm authorizing you to take over whatever police arrangements this city had-"
He looked at Arrias. The man spread his palms: "The Admiral didn't like civilians having any sort of armed organization," he said apologetically. "We had a volunteer watch, but it was mostly poorer Squadron members."
"Well, we'll work out something permanent later," Raj went on. "Jorg, I want strict control. Come down like a ton of cement on anyone who so much as stiffs a barkeep or a hooker."
Menyez dragged off three of his infantry Majors and they went into a huddle at a side table over a street map of the city.
"Kaltin," Raj went on.
Gruder looked up, alert and smiling; he was nattily turned out, freshly shaved, and had a ruby stud in one ear; rumor had it that a prominent young widow had already invited him to use her townhouse as billet for his headquarters.
"Kaltin," Raj went on, "I'm still concerned about Curtis Auburn and those damned ten thousand men of his; it's only a week's sail from here to Sadler Island, he's going to have to hear about what's going on sometime. If he lands outside and joins his brother the Admiral, well and good-but he might just try attacking us here. Go over the harbor defenses-personally, and whatever records you can scrape up: get Grammeck to give you some of his people. I want a fallback plan for defense against simultaneous assaults on the walls and the outer harbor."
Port Murchison had two linked lagoons; the outer was the merchant docking area, and the smaller circular one farther inland was the military. They were joined by a canal, but only the merchant harbor was directly accessible from the sea.
"Which reminds me," he continued: "Security. We want no tales getting out to the hot-blooded Curtis."
"Ahem," Arrias said. Raj raised an eyebrow. "Messer General Whitehall, I have here"-he pulled out a slip of paper-"a small list, compiled with the help of the Reverend Arch-Syssup, of-hmmmm-questionable non-Squadron persons. You will understand, since the barbarians ruled here so long. . and to tell the truth, there are those not anxious to see our city back under East Residence rule."
For which there are good reasons, Raj admitted. The Admirals had been sloppy, inefficient, lazy, corrupt, and occasionally oppressive rulers. The Civil Government was nearly as corrupt, but vastly more sophisticated and energetic. The Southern Territories would be better-organized and more productive now, but the local ruling class would not necessarily reap the benefits. He made an inquiring noise.
"Guildmaster Ferteryo Saylazar, to begin with," the mayor said. "He was instrumental in having the Civil Government's resident merchants interned when the news of the invas-of the liberation first arrived. And-"
Iron-heeled boots slammed to attention outside the door, and hands slapped on iron as rifles were brought to salute.
"The honorable Messer Senior Administrator Berg," a voice said briskly, as the doors opened.
"Ah, Messer Administrator Berg," Raj went on; the man came through the door and handed his riding cloak to a servant, accepting a glass of lemonade and dusting himself down.
Raj raised an eyebrow. "You didn't come in with the fleet?" he said. Orders to bring the fleet and enter the harbor sometime today had gone out to Admiral Gharderini right after the battle, while the fleet worked north in concert with the Army. There had been little contact, but according to the last report-his eyes flicked down to the map-the fleet had been resting in a cove about three kilometers south.
"No," Berg said, puzzled. "Admiral Gharderini sailed immediately on receiving news of the victory, right after Major Dalhouse arrived with his detachment. But I had some matters to get in order first. ."