For the first time in weeks Lewella’s face sprang into Hilemore’s head, as lovely and fascinating as ever. It is with a heavy heart I write these words . . . “No,” he replied. Nor will I ever be.
“Good for you, sir,” Ozpike huffed as they came to the door and made their way inside. “Take my advice and stay that way. After long consideration on the matter, I have concluded that a military career and marriage are fundamentally incompatible.”
The Comptroller’s office was on the top floor of the building, necessitating a climb up several flights of rather rickety stairs. The Comptroller proved to be a Dalcian woman of perhaps forty years in age, possessed of a high-cheekboned, austere attractiveness accentuated by her plain business suit and severely-tied-back hair. “Madame Hakugen,” Major Ozpike greeted her with a short bow. “I present Captain Hilemore of the IPV Viable Opportunity.”
Hilemore stepped forward to offer a bow of his own; Dalcians were notorious for their attachment to formality. He hesitated in mid-bow upon noticing that there was a fourth occupant in the room, an athletic young man in the uniform of the Corvantine Marines. His gloved hand rested on the hilt of a sword but he wore no revolver. The man’s face remained rigidly expressionless as he offered Hilemore a very slight nod.
“Captain,” Madame Hakugen greeted him in perfect Mandinorian. “Welcome to Lossermark.”
“Thank you, madam,” Hilemore replied, tearing his gaze from the Corvantine. “It seems you and I have a great deal to discuss.”
“Yes.” She glanced at the Corvantine. “Forgive my rudeness. Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Myratis Lek Sigoral, acting captain of the INS Superior.”
“Lieutenant,” Hilemore said with a stiff nod, memories of the Strait crowding his mind.
“Captain,” the Corvantine replied in heavily accented Mandinorian, Hilemore noting the stitched scar tracing across his forehead. The scar did much to enhance the man’s authority but Hilemore realised he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than Mr. Talmant. Just a boy, yet he commands a cruiser. What tribulations brought them here, I wonder?
“I had hoped you would see fit to bring your Blood-blessed,” Madame Hakugen said. “As per our agreement.”
“I thought it appropriate to discuss terms first,” Hilemore replied. “Though I must confess my surprise that a port of this size doesn’t contain at least one Blood-blessed.”
“We had two, until recently.” A thin line appeared in her brow. “Our long-serving contract agent sadly expired of a heart attack during a Blue-trance with our Hadlock office. Whatever he witnessed in his final trance appears to have been too much for him. His colleague, a less experienced and even less diligent character, tried to re-establish communication, to no avail. Trances with other Conglomerate offices revealed only ignorance of unfolding events. Sadly our sole remaining Blood-blessed then decided to smuggle himself aboard an outgoing vessel, one of the last to leave port actually, the ECT Endeavour. We know they were intending to make for Dalcian waters. I had hoped you might have news of them.”
“I do,” Hilemore replied, recalling the grisly contents of the life-boat they found shortly before docking at Hadlock. “She didn’t make it.”
“A pity.” Madame Hakugen gave a regretful grimace. “The captain was my cousin.” She permitted herself a small sigh before quickly regaining her composure. “And Hadlock?”
Hilemore related the destruction of Hadlock before going on to describe the loss of both Morsvale and Carvenport.
“It appears your war has been superseded by more pressing matters, gentlemen,” Madame Hakugen observed when he had finished, inclining her head at Lieutenant Sigoral.
The marine maintained his expressionless visage and confined his reply to a short, “Indeed, madam.”
Hilemore decided it was time to get what he came for. “Our Blood-blessed will be at your disposal for the duration of our stay, madam,” he said. “However, in return we will require product, all the Red you can spare. Also, coal and provisions sufficient for a lengthy voyage.”
“A hefty price, Captain.”
“Necessitated by the importance of our mission.”
“The details of which you are not at liberty to share, no doubt.”
“I compliment you on your insight, madam.”
She barely acknowledged the praise, lapsing into silence, the line once again reappearing in her forehead.
“Might I enquire,” Hilemore began as the silence stretched. “If this port has suffered any attacks, as yet?”
Madame Hakugen nodded to Major Ozpike, who reported, “Not directly, but the first Blue-hunters failed to return at their allotted time six weeks ago. Contractor companies stopped arriving at the north wall with product to sell. A few days ago just one man came stumbling out of the hills, a Headhunter, half-mad and raving. It took hours of coaxing to get the tale out of him. All of his company wiped out by Spoiled and Greens. Would’ve liked to get more information from him but he hung himself shortly after, not before assuring us we were about to die. You can imagine the effect this has all had on the people. You saw my men and they’re the hardiest souls in this port. The air is thick with fear.”
Well it might be. Hilemore fought down a spasm of guilt. His best advice for these people was to arm their ships with every gun they possessed, cram as many people aboard as could be carried and sail for Varestian waters. Even then he entertained serious doubts they would escape the attentions of marauding Blues. But what chance of securing his supplies and product in the midst of a panicked evacuation?
“I wish I had better news,” he said instead. “Hopefully the trance-communication will provide sound orders from your home office, once I have your agreement to our offer . . .”
? ? ?
They provided ten vials of Red, five Green and two Black, a fifty percent down payment on the final amount dependent on Mr. Torcreek performing to expectations. Surprisingly, Madame Hakugen had been more parsimonious with the other supplies, limiting the amount of food he could purchase and demanding a near-extortionate price for the iron plate needed for Chief Bozware’s modifications. By the time the contract was agreed he had been obliged to promise half the contents of the Viable’s safe.