Part 60 (2/2)

”I think I can stretch him a day and a half, maybe a little longer.”

”Good. I may come down and observe for a bit, if this doesn't take too long.”

”Fine. If not, I'll see you Sunday.”

”I wouldn't miss it.” As Cortin left, Bradford turned to Medart. ”I understand you actually have Shelton's memories, in full detail?”

”Of that particular series of events, yes. Not of his entire life.”

”That series is all we need.” Bradford smiled, though Medart didn't think he meant it. ”You should be as relaxed as possible for this interview; I'd suggest you lean back, or perhaps lie down on the couch.”

”In a moment. How long will this take?”

”That depends on several factors, but probably not over two hours.

Why?”

”My new bodyguard team's due down sometime this morning, and I want to be there when they arrive.” Medart touched his throat. ”Empress Lindner, what's Lieutenant DarElwyn's departure time?” Subvocally he added, ”Monitor till I tell you otherwise.”

”Yes, Ranger,” came the answer only he could hear. ”He is preparing for launch now.”

”Ask him to delay for two hours, please,” Medart said aloud. ”And make sure he's bringing a shelter for the team; they'd be pretty cramped in the facilities available here.” He paused. ”Oh, and program my chrono to display local time as the primary.”

”Yes, sir. Is there anything else?”

”That's it; Medart out.” Turning his attention back to the Inquisitor, Medart settled back in his chair. ”All right, Colonel. I'm ready.”

Bradford's questioning, Medart thought when it was over, was the most thorough and probing debrief he'd ever been through. It hadn't been pleasant reliving those memories of murder, family loss, torture and maiming--his, even though he hadn't been the one the originals happened to--and he was relieved when Bradford called a halt, saying he'd gotten all the useful information Medart had. His smile this time was more genuine. ”You're a good subject, Ranger. You've given me all I need to have that judge arrested, as well as identify and arrest the rogue Inquisitor and the rest of those Brothers.”

”If they haven't gone into hiding.” Medart checked his chrono and rose. ”My bodyguard team should be down in ten minutes or so, if you'd care to meet some non-humans.”

Bradford hesitated, then nodded. ”I don't really care to, but if Colonel Cortin's right, I'd better start getting used to them.”

Medart smiled. ”If you join the Empire, yes. I'd planned on giving you a bit more preparation, but Colonel Cortin suggested my bodyguard be the biggest people we have, and those are Traiti. The Empire includes standard humans, human variants like the Sandemans and the Narvonese Dragon-Kindred, and non-humans, like the Traiti and Irschchans. One of my fellow Rangers is Irschchan, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if she became Empress some day. Plus there are occasional genetically-engineered variants who're so far from the human norm they'd be cla.s.sified non-human if that weren't their root stock.”

”I understand.”

Medart was thinking hard as they went outside to wait. He would have liked to get a reaction uninfluenced by prior information to his bodyguards' appearance, but from Bradford's response to the mere mention of non-humans, that didn't seem like such a good idea. He'd warn the spectators, then, and see about having pictures circulated before he went out in public with them. Bradford was right: if there was a chance these people would join the Empire, they'd have to start getting used to their fellow citizens.

He'd barely finished a brief description of the Traiti when the sound of null-grav engines made him look up. It was the lander, making a fast but otherwise sedate approach. Medart hid a grin as spectators drew back, expecting a crash. Sandeman reflexes made the speed perfectly safe, and if they thought this was something, they should see the type of landing a pilot trained at Clan Leras preferred. Given a choice, especially on a non-Sandeman world, those would stunt a craft till it was barely a couple of meters off the ground. That usually resulted in one of the watchers panicking and calling the local emergency services before a safe, if overly dramatic, landing.

The lander touched down, and moments later the hatch opened. Keith disembarked, followed by four enlisted Marines. Despite Medart's caution and description, the ma.s.sive gray-skinned Traiti drew sounds of astonishment--and, Medart thought, some fear--from the troopers, and an exclamation of ”Dear G.o.d!” from Bradford.

The team stopped about a meter from Medart and saluted. When he'd returned the salute, Keith introduced the team members. ”Do you have work for us right away,” he asked then, ”or should I have them set up their shelter?”

”The shelter,” Medart said. ”And it might not be a bad idea for them to circulate, let these people get used to them. You can do that as well, or join Colonel Bradford and me; we'll be observing Colonel Cortin at work.”

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