In the end, it took longer for Inspector Viscounti to pick the splintered chunks of door out of her hair than the original conversation had. The gun had been loud, especially in the confines of the office. The alarm brought on by the noise was still sloshing through the Armoury like water in a jostled aquarium but things were now beginning to calm down. In a detached way, Aleph was actually pleased when Visconti had brought out the gun and pulled the trigger. It showed she would commit to action in a bad situation. All things being equal, Alpeh would have preferred the gun hadn’t been pointed at her, but she could appreciate the guts it took from an objective standpoint.
Emerald Visconti was an industrial dryer of a woman with short dark hair and mahogany skin. If they’d been on Erde, Aleph would have pegged her as Thai or Vietnamese. The heavier than usual dentition, amber eyes, and the auburn tint in her hair told Aleph that if she was Vietnamese, it was from a Vietnam quite a few worlds up the cosmic ladder from Erde—maybe from Ys or Cibola.
Right now, Inspector Visconti sat at her splinter covered desk with a slightly stunned expression while Aleph laid out the situation in short, concise sentences. Aleph wasn’t holding anything back, there was no point seeing as Visconti was the only one with even the slightest chance of seeing them through this shit storm. A trapped-ferret expression was beginning to form around her eyes as a result.
“I can’t tell you that. My position has always been outside the normal chain of command because I’m limited in what I can do to help. Do what you think you should, but I’d do it fast.”
Visconti’s caged look began to sublimate into a look of pure terror.
“Aleph?” Sam asked.
She turned to raise an eyebrow at him questioningly.
“Speaking hypothetically,” he began, “what would you do if you were caught in a situation similar to, but, and let me stress this point, not quite the same as this one?” He’d put on a newscaster’s smile and spoke like someone in a bad corporate training video.
“What an excellent question, Sam, I’m so glad you asked,” said Aleph, catching on immediately. She gave him a too-wide smile, her white teeth gleaming against black lips and gums like the nightmare of all toothpaste commercials.
“If I was in charge around here, I’d give some serious thought to field promotions for some of the more capable members to plug the holes blown in the rank structure.”
Sam turned and gave Viscounti a meaningful look.
To her credit, Inspector Viscounti only looked back and forth between the two of them for a few seconds before sweeping the detritus off her desk and locating a small tablet under the shards of splintered wood. Aleph paused for her to load a recording app before continuing.
“Well, Sam, I’d make sure that I’d gathered in every last person in uniform to the Armoury; all the Market Barkers, all the Constables, right down to the guy who cleans the toilets. Everyone. I’d activate the Special Weapons and Tactics, and the Special Magics teams. I’d make sure they were on standby as soon as possible.”
“Fascinating,” said Sam. “Tell me more.”
“If I was ever in a situation similar to, but positively not this one, I’d say that it would be important to delegate authority to competent people who can be trusted to carry out their orders. A smart leader surrounds herself with capable followers who can not only carry out orders, but also are capable of using their initiative.”
“Very good point there, Aleph.”
“Thanks, Sam. The Corps Sergeant Major would be someone I’d definitely want to keep very close by for advice and support. Don’t forget Prospero and the other watchworkers were bought as surplus from the Great War. Those guys are the only ones here who have seen real combat. They would be an invaluable asset if it came to a real fight. I would make sure that the biological members of the Duke’s Own were made very aware that their survival in the coming hours will depend heavily on how the watchworkers are utilized.”
Sam nodded, “Because a lot of the members see constructs as pieces of thaumic tech, possessions at best, and a threat to their jobs at worst.”
“Right you are Sam. It’s comforting to think that we stand in a place where all the countless, possible worlds of the Aether merge and even here, we can still find assholes. In this hypothetical situation, the assholes could be a problem. Division in the ranks could be the difference between a bloody victory and a bloody defeat.”
Sam’s smile slipped a bit at her words and his next words were less animated. “So you’re sure that there will be a blood, a battle?”
“Absolutely positive, Sam. Let’s look at the extremely theoretical evidence. Someone has spent decades subverting thousands of desperate people so when the time came they would have their very own standing army.” Aleph wasn’t stupid enough to throw around names while being recorded—especially if those names happened to be attached to an alchemist. No matter how positive she was that Knox of the White was behind the current situation, the legal dogs would have her for lunch if they got their hands on a copy. “The very same day the army is activated, key members of the command and control staff of the Duke’s Own are removed,” she continued. “Armies don't get activated to stand around and drink coffee.”
“So we’re screwed.”
“What we’d be looking at in this very hypothetical situation is the degree to which we’re screwed, and whether we can do any screwing of our own back.”
“So, Aleph, how would you propose we do that?” said Sam, regaining his announcer's voice.
“Well, Sam, I’d speak to any technomancers we had laying around.” Here she grabbed Dimitri’s upper arm and shoved him toward Visconti. “And I’d see if I could break through the communications problem we seem to be having to get word to any off-duty members. I’d make sure to tell them to get here as quickly as they could. If you manage to do that, I’d begin trying to get word out into the city for people to keep their heads down.”
“That sounds like a reasonable course of action.”
“That’s not all, Sam. I’d send out runners into the Market telling people to get out. I’d get those same runners to empty the Black Market of anything that we could use during the fight; Food, water, medical supplies, and anything to burn in the Armoury’s crucible. There’s a chance the Char Witches might need to hold out for a good long while. I expect we’re going to going to be going through a lot of fuel once things kick off.”
“That sounds like a lot of work!” said Sam.
“It is,” Aleph agreed. “And the sooner begun, the better.”
“But what about the Assistant Commissioner,” Visconti blurted out.
Aleph turned to her.
“What about him?” she asked in her normal voice.
“The Duke was attacked. I thought he was the traitor.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s a dick, and I’d bet dollars to donuts that he’s involved, but take into account that Nigel’s also a gutless weasel. I don’t see him having the balls to go after the Duke. I think the real traitor, or traitors, are still around.
“Of course, this is all hypothetical,” said Aleph, beginning to walk toward the empty door frame that led back out into the hall. “I would never presume to give advice of any kind to a mortal in this situation because that would be wrong and against the rules.”
“Oh, of course,” Sam agreed, starting to follow her out of the room. “I was just curious in case this kind of thing ever happened again.”
“Good thinking, Sam, you can never be too prepared.”
Aleph was nearly over the office threshold before Visconti called out to her back. “Sergeant Major, where do you think you are going?”
Aleph turned at the unexpected tone in the inspector’s voice. Visconti had come around the desk and was now wearing a grim smile.
“I’m going to find the Corps Sergeant Major.”
“Do that, and bring him back here to see me. Since you have given,” she turned to look at Sam, “Sam right?” He nodded. “Sam here, such good advice, I’m promoting you to my Aide de Camp.”
“I can’t interfere…”
“Yes, I know, you can’t interfere with mortal affairs in your capacity as a diving being. If I can’t get a goddess, what I can get is a competent member of the Duke’s Own who can take orders and use her initiative. You are competent?”
Aleph’s back straightened at the words. “Yes.”
“And a member of the Duke’s Own?”
“Supernumerary…” she started to say.
“And I can already see you can act on your own initiative,” she said waving a hand toward the shattered doorframe. “You’ll be perfect.”
Aleph stared at her for a long beat before a slow smile began to seep across her face. “This could end up being interesting after all.”
Visconti was smiling her own tentative smile back when a bird’s-eye view of Memorial Square suddenly flashed into Aleph’s mind. Thousands of men, women, and children, were pouring out of the lit square. They spilled into the streets to the northeast filling them like a rising tide of mindless humanity.
The smile faded from Aleph’s lips. “Get the runners out now. We have an hour at most before they’re at the Market Gate. They’re coming.”
No comments:
Post a Comment