A\N: Working draft of the next chapter is available on my Patreon.
Chapter 33
March 8, 1931, Addis Ababa, Abyssinia
When you know the wolves are circling, it is human instinct to go on the defense. To husband your resources and try and outlast the assault. And, sometimes, that works. Most times though, the wolves don't come calling until they know you are weak.
You don't beat an encirclement by turtling up and hoping for the best. You beat it by aiming for the weak spot and breaking through. Having spent years leading a force that was routinely outnumbered by the enemy, it was a lesson that was ingrained in me to the point of instinct.
The real trick, of course, was spotting the weak point, and then gathering enough force to shatter it. Right now, as I played with the Standard Type 30 computation orb - one of a set of three that had been delivered last week, with more promised once I reached Istanbul - I pondered the encirclement closing on me, and where the weak points were.
Fact - the identity of Jennifer Ecks was now only useful as a diplomatic fiction. The Empire would not be going to such trouble to court any ordinary mercenary mage. And if the Empire had figured it out, the rest of Europe had as well, courtesy of Interpol. Thus, any place where I went under the name Ecks would have to be willing to ignore the inevitable diplomatic pressure. I had hoped Abyssinia would be such a place, but that was before I realized the Empire was willing to commit itself and its allies to open war in Africa to get me back under their thumb.
Fact - I couldn't simply abandon the Ecks identity and once more go on the run. While I was sure Djibouti would welcome back Boris and Svetlana, it would be the height of foolishness to assume my pursuers weren't watching Abyssinia's borders with hawk eyes. At the very least it would require me to leave behind my fellow members of Silver Lance. And while I wasn't shy about cutting losses when I had to, this would very much have to be the last resort.
Fact - the Turkmen appointment was not a trap. At least, not an immediate one. I wouldn't rule out a quiet execution or assassination once I'd served my purpose, but what information I'd gathered indicated the Turkmen government really did need military expertise of all kinds, and getting it directly from the Empire would be diplomatically awkward. Not just because of Albish and American pressure as Brigadier Lergen had implied, but also because when the Rumelian territories had kicked out the Turkmen a few years ago, they'd done it with aid from certain factions in the Empire. Many Turkmen politicians were still salty about that little detail. In that respect, I was ideal. A mage trainer and leader of proven ability that the Empire believed they could control, but with no publicly provable links to them.
Fact - I was not giving up my new-found independence to once more dance to the Kaiser's tune. That ship had more than sailed. While I bore Lergen and Zettour no ill-will, I could not subordinate myself once more to a nation that had cast me aside once.
Fact - If I was unwilling to leave behind my men and flee, then I needed to control enough force that eliminating me becomes a non-trivial exercise. At that point, I would have the leverage to reclaim my agency.
One could argue that my current predicament was entirely due to my recklessness in re-introducing Jennifer Ecks to the world. And perhaps I am to blame for letting my impatience get the better of me. But at the same time, I was tired. After five years and three continents, I was sick of constantly staying on the move and in disguise. I wanted to live without the constant strain of an illusion covering me, and the itch of a wig and the unending attention to my make-up. I wanted to openly fly through the air with Visha at my side.
Before me stood two paths. The first was the path of stealth. This involved giving up everything I'd built over the years, liquidating my assets and terminating contact with my followers - make a complete break from anything that could connect me to any of my previous identities. And I can't deny there wasn't a certain appeal to the idea. I certainly had enough money for a quiet retirement to some out of the way spot. The only downside was that I'd almost certainly have to give up Visha's company. I couldn't imagine an adventurous spirit like her would ever agree to vegetate in some rustic countryside for the several years it would take the world to forget about me. And even though I knew that one day she'd leave to live her own life, that just made the thought of hastening our split even more painful.
Thus we came to the second option - go big. Openly acquire enough power and influence that I could keep hold of everything I had in spite of the world and Being X. In a way, I'd already tried to implement this strategy in Abyssinia. In hindsight though, Abyssinia was not the best place for such an attempt. Sure, it was the strongest independent African state. It was also a moribund feudal society surrounded on all sides by my far more modern enemies.
The Turkmen, on the other hand, were ideal. Largely antagonistic to most European powers, yet strong enough that attacking them would be a major commitment even for the Empire. Best of all, they shared no direct borders with any major European power save the Russy Federation. Thankfully the Communists were too busy butting heads with the Akitsushimani Dominion - this world's version of the Japanese Empire - to care about anyone else. If I could establish myself as an essential part of the Turkmen military machine, I'd once more have a homeland, one strong enough to protect my liberty.
Of course, this was easier said than done. There was a reason the Turkmen Empire had earned the title 'Sick Man of Europe'. It would take a lot of work on my part to hammer their mage corps into something decent. Yet if I succeeded, I should be able to garner enough merit that they would be very reluctant to let me go.
And, even if they did choose to dispense with my services, I was determined to gather enough strength that they'd have to think twice before trying to dispense with me. Which led to the meeting I was in right now.
"I want to hit the ground running with the Turks," I said. "I'll be relying on you Visha."
"I don't like leaving your side. Not with the Empire knowing where you are," she frowned.
"Don't worry, I'll stay on the move. But Koenig is the only other person with the experience to handle something like this, and I trust you more." Plus, Koenig was busy in Rhodesia, not that I couldn't call him up if I really needed his services. Instead I tried to console her, "It's only for six weeks at most. I just need to wrap things up here and then I'll join you."
Visha reluctantly nodded. "All right, but be careful. Are you sure you can afford to send three others with me? I could get by with just one assistant."
"Don't be silly, Visha. You won't just be setting up a completely new mage training facility for the Turkmen army, but you'll also have to set up an outreach program to find new recruits for Silver Lance. And you'll have to do all that in a country where none of us speak the language. Having three others to do the legwork is the bare minimum."
Visha didn't argue further, which was good. Honestly, the girl really was unambitious. What kind of subordinate fights the opportunity to literally build their own fiefdom? Yes, detaching four mages from my limited pool would definitely limit my Abyssinian operations. But with the Ildoans backing off recently and the first class of Abyssinian mages about to graduate, it was a handicap I could afford.
And I really needed the Turkish operation set up as soon as possible. The list of available mages showed what I had suspected - not only did the Turkmen forbid their women from serving in their army, but almost none of them entered the workforce as doctors or engineers, the two other big areas of applied magic. Meaning effectively half the country's population of aerial mages were available to me for recruitment.
Of course, religious dogma and social pressure - not to mention the potential danger - would drastically limit the number of women who would be willing to sign on with a PMC like mine. That's why I'd taken out a loan from my Wald bank to furnish Visha with a small war chest. That money was to be dangled in front of potential recruits and their families as a signing bonus. Hopefully, some of the poorer women would let greed override their self-preservation. If I had to gather enough strength to keep myself free and safe, then Silver Lance had to expand, and quickly.
Speaking of which…"Visha, make sure to include Staelle in your group." Staelle was the girl sent by the shaman Abara. Like her teacher, she too knew the orbless mage detection trick. Experimentation over the last few months had shown that the spell was only really useful for picking up on stronger mages. But since those were the kind I was most interested in, it was definitely a useful spell, and I'd taken the time to learn it. I'd also encouraged the others to learn it, but only Visha had been able to duplicate it so far.
Visha immediately realized why I wanted her to take the Congolese girl. "Don't the Turkmen already carry out mage testing of their people?"
"They do, but if you study the lists it's obvious their testing is lacking coverage… and they also have a bad habit of ignoring all the many ethnic minorities in their Empire. That's a luxury we can't afford."
"What's my target?"
I almost laughed. As if Visha would find more than a handful of girls willing to leave everything behind to become an international mercenary. "As many as you can fit in your budget. Surprise me," I told her with a smile.
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March 18, 1931, New York, Unified States
Lena huffed as she left the district courthouse. She could remember a time when she'd had ambitions to rise above her station, get an education, a good job, a nice house. Well she had all of those things, at the low, low price of permanently being on the District Attorney's hit list.
It was one of those little ironies that even though the DA was a Democrat, he was also a political rival to Mayor Hague of Jersey. Since this was an election year, the DA was desperate for a big win to guarantee his re-election, and had settled on Lena as his cause of choice. He'd publicly declared Velvet Iron a menace to society, and had been throwing everything he could at her.
Not that he could get anything to stick. Lena had learned from the Devil of the Rhine herself on how to maintain a veneer of legality over her actions. No matter how many raids the DA led on VIP's customers and facilities, proving that VIP was involved in any illegality was beyond his ability. Truth be told, the closest he'd come to inconveniencing her was when he'd launched an investigation into her possibly being an illegal immigrant. But after five years of working and paying her taxes, her identity was rock solid.
In fact, there were days when she felt Lydia Brown was her true name, and Lena Fernandez nothing more than memories of a past life. Certainly, her life had only really taken off after she became Lydia. Before then it had been nothing more than a holding pattern of scrimping and saving and unfulfilled dreams.
Shaking off her maudlin mood, she glanced at her jeweled Cartier wristwatch and told her driver, "Head to Trinity School." While Jenny usually insisted on making her own way home, Lena figured she might as well pick her up since she'd brought the car out. The discreetly armored Lincoln pulled away and headed for Wall Street.
Lena sighed and wondered if the constant headaches were worth it. True, Tanya was a generous employer. But that hefty paycheck came with the non-zero chance of being killed by disgruntled gangsters, hence the armored car and the bodyguard who entered the car with her. God knows her cousin Sal would freak if he ever realized exactly what her business entailed. There were days when she was seriously tempted to quit and find some much more modest line of work.
Unfortunately, one look out the car window was enough to put paid to such thoughts. It wasn't very noticeable since they were passing through the good part of town, but the signs were there for those who knew to look. Businesses failing, banks closing, men out on the streets hungry and looking for work. National unemployment had hit 15% and was showing no signs of falling anytime soon. Not a good time to re-enter the job market.
Lena had heard rumors that in an effort to shore up his rapidly fading popularity, the President was thinking of repealing Prohibition. Which might help the common man drown his sorrows, but would also be a definite blow to Velvet Iron. A depressingly large chunk of their business came from acting as security for New York's alcohol smugglers. Well, thought Lena cynically, at least we'll still have the drug-peddlers, gamblers, and whores.
More realistically, Velvet Iron would be extending operations to Africa in their search for customers. With Cold Steel performing hostile takeovers in Angola, they had a big demand for reliable security in the region, and Velvet Iron had a large pool of agents going spare thanks to the depression. Lena was a bit leery of pushing VIP to become a mercenary outfit even more obviously than they already were. But, unless she was willing to let go of people the company had invested months training, this was the best option.
Half an hour later, her adopted daughter Jenny had joined her in the car. Lena was relieved to see no fresh bruises on Jenny's knuckles. You'd think that one of New York's most prestigious schools would be above such things as schoolyard brawls.
Unfortunately, Jenny's debut on the silver screen had been almost as massive a success as Tanya's, and infamy followed fame as Jenny decided to openly come in support of those with alternative sexual preferences. This particular combination seemed to act as catnip for the cattiest specimens of the high school population. And since Jenny had yet to meet a confrontation she was unwilling to escalate, it was an ongoing race to see which came first - her graduation or her expulsion.
As the car started again, Jenny let out a deep sigh. "Just three more days 'til Spring Break."
Lena nodded. "Do you have any plans?"
"Not really. The next shoot don't start till summer, and I've been 'round Hollywood enough times already."
"Then would you like to come to the office? It's been a while since you've helped with the actual running of the company."
Jenny groaned. "That's
boring. I'm not sure I want to join the family business."
Lena rolled her eyes.
Family business indeed. "If you can promise me to stay out of trouble, I promise not to find something for you to do. That means no hanging out with your pothead friends."
"Fiiine,
mom." Jenny brightened up. "Say, once the shoot is over this summer… think we can go meet Tan - I mean Jennifer?"
"We'll see. Getting into the Turkmen Empire isn't the easiest thing right now."
"So it's set? She's going?"
"Indeed she is. Although if she'll still be there by the time you're ready to go is an open question."
"Thought you said it was a long term contract."
"I said that's what Jennifer is hoping for. But you know what they say about plans."
"Yeah...Say, you know Hughes figured out Jennifer was in Abyssinia? No, I didn't tell him. But last time we talked he was mumbling about flying the both of us out there to shoot his next picture," mused Jenny.
"That man is stubborn, I'll give him that much," sighed Lena.
"Definitely a bit obsessed, he is," agreed Jenny. "Still, what I was asking, think I should tell him she's on her way to the Turkmen Empire? Might save us all some hassle, else he might drag the whole studio off to Abyssinia."
Lena considered it for a moment. "Wait until Tanya actually makes the move. As far as I know it's not supposed to be a secret, but no point blabbing about it beforehand."
"Yeah, ok. I'll tell him come summer. That way if he decides to go I can hitch a ride."
"You realize the Turkmen are followers of Mohammed?" asked Lena in a warning tone. "They have
very firm views on acceptable behavior for girls. You get in trouble with them... then I guess Jennifer will be there to deal with you personally."
The brief flash of concern on Jenny's face was most gratifying. Lena just wished she could intimidate Jenny like that, it would have made looking after her so much easier.
While she wasn't sure if the Turkmen would be the haven Tanya was looking for, she hoped it would be. They might have not been together very long, but Tanya was one of the few genuine friends Lena had. With any luck, by the time Jenny got there Tanya might even be living under her real name.
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April 3, 1931, somewhere in the Wallachian Carpathian Mountains, The Empire
The facility had been cleaned up, but Mary fancied she could still see the bloodstains on the beds where, according to the records, the medical mages had put back together the poor children forced to participate in the horrors perpetrated here.
It might have just been her imagination, but Mary thought she could almost taste the dangerous magicks unleashed by minds steeped in madness. Considering how the place was currently abandoned, it was entirely possible the Imperials had felt the same.
Over the years of pursuing Degurechaff, never before had the American-Legadonian mage wished that she was following a false lead.
When the Imperials had announced that they had misplaced the designer of the original Elenium Type 95 computation orb, it had triggered a quiet panic in the international community.
Sure, the Imperials claimed he was wanted for gross criminal negligence and violating the peacetime age limits on military recruits, but it didn't take a genius to guess what exactly Dr. Schugel had been working on. There was a reason his work would have been located in this remote facility hidden in the mountains of newly conquered Dacia. And when he was reported as absconding, Mary's mind had immediately gone to the worst case scenario - the fanatical creator of the Type 95 was even now fleeing to rejoin the mage who had cemented his place in history, to once more arm her with a weapon that could devastate nations.
Alas, by all evidence Degurechaff was still in Abyssinia. Interpol had no entry there. The best they could hope for was that the Ildoans, Franks and Albish would all be motivated to watch the country's borders carefully and make sure the doctor went nowhere near his former partner in crime.
In the meantime, Mary's team had wrangled permission to visit Schugel's labs. None of them stated it out loud, but all of them (except maybe Elya Roth) were hoping to find evidence that Schugel had indeed been working on quad-core research. While enforcing international treaties was outside Interpol's remit, embarrassing the Empire was a cause she and Paquet were more than happy to get behind. Besides, if there was even the slightest chance Schugel could bestow on Degurechaff the ability to repeat Brest, the world needed to be warned.
Naturally, the Imperials had gone to considerable lengths to clean up any evidence of them violating the quad-core ban. According to the paperwork, Schugel was ostensibly researching the next generation of dual-core orbs. That was the Empire's story and they were sticking to it. The only way to prove otherwise would be capture and interrogate Schugel. That was not likely to happen, though. The Empire were the ones demanding his arrest, so unless Schugel committed some fresh new outrage elsewhere, he would be remanded back into Imperial custody for prosecution.
That didn't stop Mary's team from poking around looking for clues. As Elya admitted, Schugel was too dangerous for them to skimp on the investigation, no matter how potentially embarrassing for the Empire.
From the timeline their team had put together, the experiments had initially used adult test mages. But as failure followed failure, Schugel had become more and more adamant about recreating the circumstances that had led to the previous breakthrough.
Through a combination of threats, bribery, and abusing his own rank, Schugel had managed to acquire several children between the ages nine and thirteen for his experiments. They only had rudimentary training, but that was all they needed to activate Schugel's prototypes. This would have been bad enough, but then Schugel had hit upon using a combination of mental enhancement and mind-altering drugs to force his test subjects into a heightened state of consciousness so they could control his designs more easily.
It was only when the first child died that some of the facility's staff grew a conscience and reported him to the authorities. Apparently there had already been deaths among the adult mages, but a dead ten-year-old had a weight all of its own. Not that it did most of the test subjects much good. Many of them had suffered potentially permanent brain damage due to the combined magical and mental doping.
All this had been pieced together over weeks of investigation. Their team had been poring over the scraps of information the Empire had begrudgingly giving them access to, but most of their data had come from interviewing the personnel involved with the experiments. And, after weeks of such interviews, Mary was feeling disgusted with the entire human race.
You'd think the kind of people who could stand by and allow such atrocity would have something to make them stand out from the common man, some mark of evil. Instead what she got were pettifogging bureaucrats, bored guards, and callous scientists. The most common excuse for their actions? 'We were following orders.'
Frustratingly, in many instances that was a legally valid excuse. As the chief of a top secret military project, Schugel had a very high priority on procurement and personnel, and the Empire had never revoked conscription of aerial mages at any and all ages. Only a few of those involved in the experiments could be proven to have acted outside their remit. In fact, if it wasn't for the enormous danger Schugel's knowledge represented, Mary was certain the Empire would have kept quiet about his disappearance and brushed the whole thing under the rug.
By this point, their team had almost wrapped up their investigation. They just had a few more people to talk to, and then they'd have to decide on their next move. Deciding she had wasted enough time woolgathering, Mary made her way to the interview room.
Looking in through the two-way mirror, she could see their latest interviewee. Clad in a grey prisoner's jumpsuit, the broad brown-haired man was still powerfully built even after almost three years in military prison. Laugh lines around his brown eyes indicated a normally jovial personality that was currently in abeyance. Even sitting still with his hands manacled, he radiated an aura of danger that Mary was coming to expect from Degurechaff's former subordinates.
It was ironic that the one person who had most vigorously protested Schugel's experiments was also the one to have spent years in prison for his trouble. There was word of releasing him early, but the byzantine Germanian bureaucracy was taking its time on the matter. In the meantime, two military policemen stood guard outside the interview room, ready to escort Neumann back to prison once Interpol released him.
After spending a moment studying the former Lieutenant Neumann, Mary moved on to their main office. For a change, the entire team was present. Captain Strong, Mr. Paquet, and Elya. "He say anything of interest?" Mary asked.
"Not much. He's the most cooperative of the lot, but most of what he's giving us is confirmation on what we got already from other sources," replied Elya. "Still, he gave us enough that we'll be able to put a couple more bastards behind bars. And hey, wherever he is, Schugel will be breathing funny for the rest of his life after the way Neumann flattened his nose. Silver linings."
"And what did he have to say about Degurechaff?" was Mary's next question. At Captain Strong's suggestion, Mary had excused herself when the topic had turned to the former Major.
"He's scared of her," said Strong.
"What, really? Him?" Mary's mind cast back to the intimidating figure sitting in the interrogation room. It was hard to believe that the man would be scared of anything.
Elya chuckled. "Definitely quite a bit of caution there. That's one man who'd never willingly go up against his former commander. Well, not that he's likely to go against her anyway."
"Just because he was one of her company commanders doesn't automatically mean Neumann's still loyal to her," Mary pointed out.
"Ms. Sioux has a point," spoke up Paquet. "Monsieur Neumann has not had any contact with Degurechaff since her arrest. Still, one wonders how his recent experiences will have affected his loyalties."
Mary could follow the logic. Neumann had chosen to go to prison rather than accept what was happening. But what had happened here had happened once before, during the development of the original Type 95. As part of their investigation, they had asked for the detailed personnel reports from the first development team. Three adult mages had died between 1921 and 1923, and then Schugel had gotten his hands on Degurechaff. Over the course of three months, the then 9-year-old had ended up in the infirmary six times, twice for injuries that would have rendered her invalid if not for the existence of magical healing. At which point even the legendarily fearless Tanya Degurechaff had requested a transfer back to the front lines for the sake of her own health. In fact, the entire project had been on the verge of being cancelled when the Type 95 had miraculously stabilized itself.
Sighing, Mary lay her head down on her folded hands. Sometimes she wondered why God would have allowed such a hideous device to come into existence. Or maybe Schugel had sold his soul to the devil. The man certainly ranted about religion often enough in his private notes. "Do you think Degurechaff would have turned out the way she did if they hadn't put her through… all this?" she mused idly.
"Who knows?" Elya put aside her notes and refilled her coffee cup from the pot on the table. "She was assigned to the project right after she won the Silver Wings. So she was already pretty dangerous way back then. But being blown up repeatedly by her own side… It didn't seem to affect her loyalty to the Empire, but who knows what might have been knocked loose."
"She was a soldier," interjected Captain Strong. "And by all accounts a damn good one. But she was also a kid. Kids treat others the way they are treated. If, God forbid, she went through Schugel's little slice of hell thinking it was normal… it might explain a few things about her later military career."
Paquet perked up and joined the conversation. "
Tres bien, a most intriguing point, Captain. It might explain the brutal training methods she became infamous for. Yet, at the same time, there are multiple records of her going above and beyond to preserve the lives of her men. An interesting dichotomy, is it not? Perhaps we see here the results of two competing or perhaps complementary influences on her psyche..."
Mary let the flow of conversation wash over her as her brain chewed at the thought like a dog with a bone. It really was true what they said, ignorance is bliss. A few years ago she'd been perfectly happy knowing that Degurechaff was evil incarnate, and that bringing her down was a sacred duty. Now she was getting a close look at the child behind the demon, and the cruelties that child had survived. Much against her wishes, Mary was finding herself sympathizing with the Devil.
Mentally scowling, Mary immediately resolved to keep her newfound feelings a secret from Elya. The Germanian woman had been trying for years to get Mary to see Degurechaff's side of the story, and she'd be absolutely insufferable if Mary ever admitted that maybe, just maybe, Degurechaff was not the root of all the world's ills.
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April 22, 1931, outskirts of Ancyra, Turkmen Empire
I had been satisfied when three weeks after Visha's departure, she had written to me saying not only was the Turkmen's new mage training facility ready, but that she had acquired the first five new Silver Lance recruits. These five would join the 50 Turkmen mages in the first training cycle.
A week later, I was pleasantly surprised to receive another message saying our new recruits now totaled twelve.
When the next report a week later said our total recruitment had reached twenty-five, the sudden jump made me sit up and take notice.
When, in the middle of April, Visha wrote saying she'd hit forty recruits, almost all women, I decided I needed to get myself over there post-haste.
Even in a nation as egalitarian as the Empire, women in combat operations had been in the minority. Even among aerial mages where women made up 50% of the population, the vast majority of women were kept far away from direct combat roles. As a result, including Visha and myself there had been only six women among the 48 members of the 203rd. And this was in a situation where universal conscription of aerial mages was the norm.
It was incredible that in a nation with such conservative views on the role of women, Visha would find forty recruits in a matter of weeks. Even with no other magical careers available, what sane woman would leave behind everything familiar to follow a stranger into an international mercenary company where combat would be almost guaranteed?
I was still wondering what on earth had happened when I finally reached the training grounds on the outskirts of Ancyra.
Visha was there waiting for me. "Welcome to Camp Eagle Seven, Colonel. You're here earlier than expected."
"I decided to come ahead. The others will be following shortly. Report, Major." The Turkmen had been kind enough to give us the same ranks we'd enjoyed in the Abyssinian military, which meant we both got to enjoy our inflated titles for a little while longer.
Visha immediately led me on a very professional tour of the facilities. The camp itself had space to accommodate and serve up to two hundred mages, with a nearby fort supplying any mundane military personnel and gear we might need for our training. The first batch of 50 Turkmen Army mages were due to arrive in May for the start of their training (or in many cases, re-training). Right now, the camp was home to forty-one women (and three men) who represented the first batch of Silver Lance recruits, plus Visha's group.
"I could have gotten more," Visha explained, "But I think we'll already be stretched to the limit so I put a halt on further recruitment until we can get this batch trained up enough to teach others. So far, I've got them running through the theoretical work. Their mathematics isn't as bad as our African recruits, but many of them need quite a bit of polishing up."
"Fine work, Visha. Very fine work indeed. But I have to ask, how did you get so many recruits so quickly?"
"Well, I did as you said Major. I started offering cash as a signing bonus, in exchange for a seven-year contract."
"Even then… so many?"
"Ah well…" Visha was definitely shame-faced. "I didn't give the women the money, so much as I gave it to their families. There are too many families that were willing to order their daughters to sign with us for just a few liras."
I blinked. "You mean you bought their daughters," I stated flatly.
At the ashamed nod, I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off the oncoming headache. "Visha, we're planning on turning our recruits into lethal weapons. What happens when they decide they don't like being enslaved and decide to shoot us in the back?"
"Oh, don't worry, I made it clear to them that after the first year, any of them are free to go back to their families without penalty. By the time we're ready to take them into combat, no one will be here who doesn't want to be here."
"Thank goodness… but why after the first year?"
"Well, I figure after a year most of them would have gotten used to the life and earning their own money. And, after a year, they'd all have learned at least the basics of flight." Visha gave a sweet smile. "Flying is such a wonderful thing. I don't think many of them would willingly give it up once they got to experience it."
I felt a cold shiver run up my spine. When did my Visha get so manipulative?! It was true, even someone as rational as me could admit the sheer joy that came with unassisted flight. If it wasn't for the constant front line postings, I'd have thoroughly enjoyed my time in the Imperial military. Even the most pacifistic of these girls would undoubtedly be tempted to stay on just to keep access to their flight orbs.
I immediately resolved to pay closer attention to my personal dealings with Visha. While I trusted her with my life, she just might use this newfound devious streak to wheedle all sorts of things out of me. I had to make sure I was firmly in charge of this relationship.
While I was thinking this, Visha had tucked my arm in her own and had led me into a large two-story building. "This is the training staff quarters. I hope you don't mind but I made it double rooms to save space."
"Of course, no need to be extravagant."
"And I assigned us together, of course."
"Of course," I agreed, but I couldn't help but take note how almost excessively nonchalant Visha was being. Was she already angling for something?
She must have seen something in my face and misinterpreted it, because she said, "Don't worry so much about the recruits, Tanya. I'm sure their morale will be excellent by the time we're done. Besides, not all of them were paid for. Eighteen of the girls are volunteers."
"Really? That many?"
"It's all thanks to Sabiha's father. You met her just now."
It took me a moment but I placed the name as one of the trainees' dorm leaders. I had a vague impression of a smart, pretty, precisely uniformed woman of around my age. "Yes, I remember. What about her father?"
"Well, her adopted father is one of the top Turkish generals, one Mustafa Alioglu Pasha. Apparently he'd been searching for years for someone to train his daughter after she showed an interest in becoming an aerial mage. When he set up shop he reached out to me, and in exchange of taking her in, he agreed to help us reach out to other potential recruits. With one of their most famous generals backing our recruitment efforts, a lot of girls were willing to sign up."
"Couldn't he get one of his own people to train her? Why does he need us?"
Visha scowled. "The Turkmen Mage Corps is an old boy's club. They all know each other, they recruit entirely from certain areas and families, and they're horribly hidebound. In fact, they think this whole training program is a waste of time. Mustafa was one of the prime movers behind the military modernization, and they hate him for bringing in outside consultants like us to show them how to do their jobs. That's probably why he couldn't find anyone willing to train her."
"You think the mages they send us will be uncooperative?"
"I almost guarantee it," she spat. "Those idiots either don't know or don't care about sensory enhancement spells, because I had no trouble hearing what they thought about any aerial mage who let himself be led by a
woman."
"Well then," I said cheerfully. "We have the right to commandeer equipment from the nearby forts for our training don't we? How's the local artillery, Major?"
Visha's smile was beatific. "Quite adequate to our needs, Colonel. I've already taken the liberty of having them send over a regiment of 75's."
"Well done, Visha."
"Thank you, Tanya," by this time she'd led me into our new bedroom. "You must be tired after your journey. How about a massage once you get settled in?"
I couldn't help but feel a little spike of suspicion. It was uncomfortable, but I kept getting the feeling she was angling for something. Still, that was no reason to throw her goodwill back in her face. "That sounds lovely. But I insist on returning the favor. After dinner?"
"After dinner," Visha agreed happily.
Even with my suspicion I couldn't help but smile at her
joie de vivre. Still, I had to stay alert. Now that I knew Visha was growing as a manipulator, I couldn't let a decent massage lower my guard. Or else, who knows what she'd slip by me.
