AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Wonder how she'll do it, if she hasn't done it already," Valentine said.
"I never like a woman who chews gum loudly," Brother Mark said. "What do you think, Major Valentine?"
Valentine shrugged. "I've never had trouble getting along with the Miskatonic people."
"Except where Blake is concerned," Brother Mark said.
Valentine took a breath. He'd seen a Reaper born alive into the world, carried by Post's wife, who he'd brought out of an Ohio hatchery called Xanadu. Named him Blake, after the poet. At first he'd let the Miskatonic people examine him-they'd never watched a Reaper develop before-but when they started using noise and light to test tolerances he reclaimed him and took him to old Narcisse, who lived on the bluffs outside of Saint Louis. They'd first met on Hispaniola during his trip to find a special kind of wood that killed Reapers. The gentle old soul had a way with Blake. It had been over a year since he'd seen them last.
"Well, rarely then," he admitted. "Usually all we do is swap stories. I've never tried to work with one in the field before."
"You think these creatures will be useful? Then why do you scowl so when you look at them."
"I was scowling? Well, they make me think about Texas. If I'd only been more careful."
Valentine had been bringing a load of Quickwood back from Haiti, crossing Texas's empty plains. Once back in Southern Command territory he'd let his guard down, only to discover the Ozarks had been overrun by Consul Solon's Transmississippi forces. He'd lost almost all of his precious cargo.
"Is that all? I've never known you to dwell on the past. Talk about it, yes. Learn from it, yes. But not lose yourself in misery over it."
You didn't know me in the years following my court martial, Valentine thought.
"I was with Ahn-Kha when we met them. He was with me on that trip. I've been wondering about him. Ever since that last radio transmission, when they said they were surrounded by the ravies in Virginia."
"You think he's dead?"
"You put it starkly, sir." Valentine brightened. A weight had passed away. "You know, I don't. I feel like he's still alive. But I'm anxious about it, for some reason."
Brother Mark stared levelly into his eyes in the manner of a doctor, as if evaluating the dilation of his pupils. Valentine wondered what he was looking for. "Is this your emotions, hoping against hope, or more of a realization?"
Valentine searched his features for expression, but the usual sad hound eyes revealed nothing beyond sorrow. "Do you know something I don't?"
"In the Church, there were those who became sensitives of one sort or another. I've been told that it's suddenly as though you've known something your whole life. Sister Gretchen is arriving this afternoon; you've always known Gretchen will arrive this afternoon."
Valentine believed in telepathy. He'd had Lifeweavers and Kurians alike, along with their agents, put thoughts in his head. Was someone feeding him information now? An enemy trying to tempt him into rashness? Or was one of nature's better angels planting suggestions, trying to move to come to the rescue of his old friend?
"Give the alert and practice coordinates, Corporal," Valentine told the Wolf of Frat's command he'd brought along to practice the artillery spotting.
The tanned young man studied the map one more time and started to read.
Fire control acknowledged, repeating back the coordinates.
"Communications are still up," Valentine said.
The loaders ran the trenches to the ready magazines.
Valentine looked down and saw confusion at Igraine. A sergeant hurried to the magazine.
"Uh-oh," Father Max said.
The spotter Wolf pushed his headset tighter against his ear.
"Major, Igraine is reporting someone stuck gum in the padlock on the magazine door," the Wolf said.
"What was that you were saying about gum-chewing women?" Valentine asked.
After getting his arm pumped off again congratulating Pellwell, Valentine presented his plan to Colonel Lambert. The mental diversion with the ratbits had allowed the operation to crystallize.
He sat in her office, so neat that the orders and papers and pens all seemed to cower in their allotted places.
