“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Now that the formal report is out of the way, what did you leave out of the report?”
“I hate to share this with you, but Colleto had a colleague cast a portent and it said I would become an important person in the future. He didn’t share with me how that importance was valuable to him, but Colleto wanted me to join him in Gussellia.”
“You mean turn your back on Racellia? He was serious about taking over South Fenola?”
“I didn’t emphasize it in the report, but yes. Even if he agreed to negotiate, he would have no intention about keeping his pledge,” Quint said.
“You were tempted?”
“Gussellia has no other races in their country, just like the other South Fenola countries except for Racellia which is almost as bad. I’ve found a place where I can live in relative comfort in the international quarter. I am not motivated to leave.”
“He would have offered you a higher rank and wealth.”
Quint laughed. “What do I do with wealth if I can’t share it? I save half of what I make, anyway.”
“I’m glad you told him no.”
Quint swallowed. “I didn’t tell him no. I told him I’d think about it. If I rejected his offer outright it might have jeopardized the negotiation.”
“He rejected it anyway, but you did the right thing, which you usually do.” The colonel leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. “What will Lieutenant Baltacco say in her report?”
“You mean Senior Lieutenant Baltacco, ma’am,” Quint said.
“She can’t blame the failure on you, can she?” the colonel asked.
“She met with the dictator the same evening I did. She told me that Colleto asked questions about me. I wasn’t a party to her meeting. She may make a big deal out of it. It might be what she said at her meeting that turned Colleto away from a peace agreement.”
“You can’t claim that,” the colonel said.
“And I didn’t, ma’am,” Quint said. “All I did was mention the meeting as an aside in my report.”
“Then we will wait and see. General Obellia thinks she will create something to undermine you and the diplomatic corps.”
“I think that is a good assumption. I didn’t talk to her at all on the trip back, ma’am, but I know there is no limit to her ability to lie.”
The colonel changed the subject, “You have a backlog of newssheets and journals to catch up on. Was your willot language skills tested?”
“Colleto knows I can speak some willot. He figured out my presence didn’t make sense otherwise. However, he did intimate that he had some influence getting me on the negotiating team. I’m not sure about the Racellians.”
“There was a request, but you must keep that knowledge close, captain. If the wrong people find out, you won’t be the only one in danger. You are dismissed.”
Quint entered his office and soon he had six baskets of publications to review. He couldn’t do a thorough job and keep up, but he had some ideas about what to look for.
By the end of the day, he had gone through three days of materials without finding a lot to report on, but he would take a Gussellian journal home with him to review.
The colonel wanted to meet before Quint left.
“Baltacco didn’t take much time to get his little one to write her report. I just got this from General Obellia. It is his personal copy.”
The report was only two pages long and even at that, Quint was surprised Amaria had that much to write about. As he had expected, most of it was an attack on Quint.
She accused him of knowing the mother tongue, of committing to join the Gussellian forces, and that he and he alone was responsible for scuttling the mission. On the other hand, Amaria praised herself for meeting with Colleto on her own to pry this important information from Gussellia’s leader. She was a model of courage, in her own words.
“And what proof do we have that she was told those things?” Quint asked the colonel.
“Is proof needed to compare the word of a hubite to the word of a general’s daughter?” Colonel Gerocie asked.
“Yes,” Quint said, but he knew the correct answer. Probably not.
“What will happen?”
“Separately, General Baltacco has recommended stripping your rank to sergeant while charges of treason are being evaluated,” the colonel said.
Quint sat back, amazed. “Are they forcing me to join forces with Pacci Colleto?”
“You tell me, Captain.” The colonel put emphasis on his title.
“No. Why would I jump from the frying pan into the fire,” Quint said. “The Baltaccos, father and daughter, hate me personally. I don’t think their attitudes would change if I was a willot. Amaria sees me as competition, although I don’t know why.” Quint hadn’t mentioned Baltacco’s portent in his report.
“You are rising in the wizard corps despite being a hubite, and she is relying on her daddy’s largesse. General Obellia said he would transfer you from the wizard corps to his division if a demotion was in the works. He believes your report and properly sees Amaria’s as the words of a jealous woman. Any sane person would see it the same way unless she had proof. Don’t worry about your knowledge of the willot language. General Obellia sees that as an asset in your case.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Quint said. “What do I do now?”
“I’d say you have a large backlog of work since you were gone. Get to it, but before that, go home and get a good night’s rest. Dismissed.”
The Gussellian journal was fascinating after Quint’s recent assignment. After his brief conversation with Pacci Colleto, he could more easily pick out propaganda from certain articles. The journal was full of indicators about the war footing in Gussellia.
