Chapter 12
"Klein!"
Helmet slowed his walk and then stopped when he saw Johnston rushing toward him. The blond giant ran like the ground was nothing more than an unwelcome impediment slowing his way. He moved like a marathon runner, not like an army grunt wearing too heavy boots. Helmet grimaced. Johnston was one of those people he just did not like. The man seemed to have been gifted by the gods. He was tall and blond and blue eyed and had one of those flashing smiles that women liked. More unfortunately, he had the coordination of a professional athlete, which made him dangerous. Worst of all, he also had a sadistic streak that would have sent him to prison if he had been anywhere but in Field's Militia.
Stopping before Helmet, Johnston crisply saluted. He did not even have the grace to breathe hard.
"The General's compliments and he requests your presence in his office immediately, sir."
"Tell the General I will be there shortly," Helmet said.
"Sir, the General requests your presence now, sir. He asks that I be there for the meeting."
Johnston's manner was exactly proper for a non-com addressing his superior. His bearing was more military than the military's. Helmet did not trust Johnston's mien for a second. To Helmet, it seemed like the man was mocking the military and the Militia while simultaneously silently laughing at Helmet Klein. All signs showed that Johnston was a man with little respect for anyone or anything. They said that he was the type of man who enjoyed trouble for its own sake. Helmet recognized all those signs since Helmet had been such a man once. General Field still was.
There was no help for the matter since Field was still too useful to alienate. Matters in Chin were still in flux so he needed more guns and ammo. In fact, he needed more of everything except men. He had plenty of warriors among his chosen people, which was fortunate because all the militia sponsored "advisors" he carted along with him on every trip across were more of an embarrassment than anything else. Generally, he paired them off and sent them as permanent envoys to one tribe or another. If good luck ran with him--they died. Usually they died from hunger or exhaustion or because one of the natives they were advising did not like the given advice and so the native kindly removed the advisor's head. Some few of the advisors died because they fell off a horse and were too stupid to cushion their heads before they banged into the rocky ground. Unfortunately not all his advisors were totally incompetent. Some thrived. A couple had fathered children on six or seven different women.
"If the General wants me there now, I think we had best step out."
Johnston answered with a superior smirk. Helmet smiled thinly back. Johnston needed to be educated Chin style. That would take some of the starch out of him.
The General held a book when Helmet walked into his office. The book's spine read The Art of War. The author was Niccolo Machiavelli.
"I have my doubts about Turner," Field began.
Helmet gestured toward Johnston. General Field waved his worries away.
"Forget him. Johnston knows every detail about the project. Starting tomorrow he is going into training so he can make it through carry over."
Great. Another parasite, Klein thought. "Doubts, sir?" he said with just the proper amount of disbelief. "I admit that I haven't seen a great deal of Turner since he became an active operative. Our respective tasks prevent us from communicating like we used to. Still, I find it hard to believe you need to be concerned about him."
"Perhaps, but I don't trust the man. I think he is lying to me."
"How so, sir? After all, I haven't seen any suspicious reports. The information he acquires seems to roughly fit the information I have about the more settled areas," he said, thinking, okay, Aaron me boy, what have you done now? How many times did I tell you to keep your lies simple and consistent?
"As far as those reports go, I see no reason to doubt the information he has given us," Field said. "My doubts run more along the line of wondering about his intentions. He has not been aggressive enough. He has not taken firm control of a single political entity. I think he wants to make this Isabella his home."
Now that, Hemet thought, sounded better. Aaron was not a stupid boy. A little slow sometimes but not stupid. It was bound to occur to him sooner or later that it was better to be on top of the command chain than on the bottom. The two of them were really going to have to connect sometime. Between them, they could easily control half the world if they worked together. That would really be something. It would be good to work with the Aaron again. At one time they had been a close team.
Back to the business at hand. "General, why are you telling me this? Aaron Turner and I no longer have a connection to one another. I seldom see him here, and I can't contact him when I am over there. The Chins I'm with have heard of the New World, but they could not even point me in the right direction to begin traveling to it."
"I am aware of that, soldier. However, the Jefferson government is an intrusive body that is trying to penetrate my operations. I do not trust Turner to not give them information if he is somehow approached, and I do not trust the government to stay the hell off my base. Because of this, I am setting up a new, less conspicuous base that you need to know about. There may come a time when you return here only to find that this operation no longer uses these facilities. In such an event you will need to know how to find me."
Field pushed a closed envelope across his almost bare desk. "Memorize this and then destroy it."
Helmet took the envelope and opened it. The address inside was easy to remember since a near perfect memory was a requirement of his Talent. He read the address, read it again, and then slipped the letter and the envelope into the shredder.
"Are you going to let Turner know of this place, sir?"
Field shook his head no. "I told you, I don't trust him like I do you. No, Turner is not going to know anything about this. Because I don't trust him, I've taken steps to make sure he doesn't betray us. I won't have this operation jeopardized by that damn cripple."
"That's probably best," Klein agreed, feeling worried. Maybe there was some way he could get a message to Aaron. Maybe he should just bug out, ship himself over and not come back. He still needed the supplies, but he did not need them all that badly. At this point, though the extra supplies would make things more comfortable, the lack of them would not make his task impossible.
Field had continued talking. Some of the information he imparted had been lost.
"Pardon me, sir."
Closing his eyes slowly, exasperation spread across Field's features. "I said the operation will not continue for much longer. We have enough funds because of my inheritance and the gold you bring back to run matters for another year. I might have enough to get along for two. No more. The stock market has crashed since your last visit, and the government has been running constant lawsuits against us. If a tree gets hit by lightning in Columbia City, they blame it on us and try to pull money out of me. No, I don't see things continuing the way they are for much longer. It's about time you prepared for my position among the savages. Build rumors around me. Get them thinking of me as a great ruler, their new Emperor, or even a messiah. I want things running smooth when I take over."
"Yes sir. Matters are almost ready for you to assume command now. They will be more than ready in a year's time."
"Good. Good. I am grooming Johnston to be my personal assistant so he will fill you in on exactly how I want things arranged."
"Yes sir."
Field gave him a sloppy salute. "Dismissed soldier. You have been doing good work."
Helmet saluted him back, ignored the openly grinning visage of Johnston, and left the General's office. He was glad for the conversation since he now knew matters would have to speed up. He would have to hurry to assure that his title of Emperor was secure. Even under the best conditions, subduing enemy tribes took a lot of time and a lot of ammunition.
Thinking about Aaron, Helmet wondered what steps the General had taken to ensure Aaron's loyalt
y. The matter was worrisome, but there was little Helmet could do to help the boy. Aaron would have to figure matters out on his own.
No worry there. Aaron Turner wasn't stupid. Helmet had no doubt he could manage matters smoothly enough. After all, the kid had been raised by the best.