Chapter 33

<These maps are drawn in incredible detail. Can the wolf be this good already?> Haroun had located the first of the two camps already, the one that the map called 'Foxtrot' for some unfathomable reason, and it was as he had been told. The camp was abandoned, if not exactly in haste then certainly at short notice. Personal belongings had been left behind, but no weapons aside from a few that were obviously dismantled or in need of repair. He looked up as Mahmoud entered the chamber. “Yes?”

Mahmoud bowed. “My Prince, the American ambassador has arrived, unbidden. He requests the favor of an audience.”

“Does he indeed? Very well. Show him in, Mahmoud. And leave us alone.”

The major-domo started, looking up quickly. “My Prince, is that wise? You cannot trust the Americans. What if he attacks you?”

Haroun smiled. “I have safeguards enough, Mahmoud. I do not fear him, and assassination is not the sort of thing the Americans normally resort to, even when it would be justifiable. He will speak more freely if we are alone, I judge. Carry out your orders.”

Mahmoud bowed again in reluctant acknowledgement. “It shall be as you say.” He spun on his heel and left the room, returning a moment later with the American. “The American Ambassador to the Realm of the High Desert, James Knight.”

“Be welcome, Ambassador.” He nodded to Mahmoud. “You may leave us now.” They both waited while the man departed, rather sulkily in Knight's opinion.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice, your Highness. I will try not to take up too much of your time.”

“You have never yet wasted my time, Ambassador, unlike all too many of my own subjects. What brings you here today? The same issue that your President's advisor passed on to my embassy in your capitol?”

“Ah, I see you are already up to date, then. Yes, that – I brought a copy of the letter with me, if you need it – and an offer of cooperation should you feel that would be helpful. My security chief asked specifically that I should inquire about assistance with long-ranged weapons. We have found it to be most convenient to be able to strike down our enemies before they can reach us.”

Haroun nodded, and accepted the envelope. “Thank you, Ambassador. That was most kind of you.” He glanced briefly at the papers. <Amazing. This seems to be an exact copy of the documents they gave to Bast. Did they do this with their electronics, or have they learned so much magic so quickly?> “As it happens, I have been checking on this... would you care to see?”

Knight twitched an eyebrow. “I would be most interested, your Highness.”

Haroun gestured to the mirror he had been using. “This is the place you called Camp Foxtrot. As your Seeress reported, it has been hastily abandoned. I was about to follow the tracks they left...” The image in the glass swooped around to focus on a fresh set of tire-tracks leading away from the camp, and then the desert terrain flashed past as the viewpoint followed the tracks at high speed. After a few minutes, the viewpoint slowed and came to rest. “And here they join up with someone. Presumably the ones from Camp Hotel...” He paused. “Where did you get those outlandish names, may I ask?”

Knight chuckled. “Standard codes for individual letters, when spelling things out over noisy communication channels, Highness. I would assume they were named in alphabetical order of discovery.”

“Spelling... are so many of your warriors literate that this becomes a concern, then?”

“We try to ensure that -all- of our citizens are literate, your Highness. It is not possible to succeed completely, but we come close.”

“And this is a helpful thing? It does not make your subjects difficult to control?”

Knight smiled. “Oh, it does make us difficult to control. But we have discovered that the benefits far outweigh the inconveniences to our rulers, and the fact that anyone can, at least in theory, rise through the ranks to -become- one of the rulers keeps things calm. We do not miss those with the potential to be useful participants in any field, and we have generated enormous wealth in the process.”

Haroun smiled. “And has this theoretical happenstance ever occurred?”

Knight's smile grew teeth. “Frequently enough. We do elect new ones every few years, you know.”

Haroun chuckled. “And your nobles stand for this?”

“Your Highness... we -have- no nobles.” He explained further at Haroun's shocked look. “Not by blood. Our equivalent is chosen by talent. Oh, the children of the wealthy have an advantage, but even that is not guaranteed. Each generation must prove itself.” Knight smiled at the reaction he was getting. “It works for us. Or are you going to claim that you have never had a brilliant noble produce only stupid heirs?”

Haroun shook his head. "No, I certainly can't claim that." <Insanity. And yet they have become dominant... perhaps there is something to their madness?> He turned his attention back to the scrying mirror. “In any event... there they are. Stopped to unload from the trucks and make their obeisance to Mecca.”

“Can you tell where they are going?”

“Toward Ba-yabel, Ambassador. They are coming here, as your Seeress Wolf surmised.”

* * * *

Foster was at his usual spot, enjoying a coffee and a shish-kebab of lamb, onions, and peppers. <Hakim did a good job with this. Glad I gave him the idea.> The street kids were seated around his feet again, listening raptly as he finished the tale he was spinning for them. “And so it was that Indiana al-Jones raced through the jungle with the cannibals following close behind, throwing their poisoned spears at his heels. But the wolf was too fleet for them, and made it to the river and his waiting magic boat. His faithful companion awaited him there, and so it was that they left their pursuers behind as the boat carried them to safety. But he did vow to have his vengeance upon the evil one who had stolen the treasure from his grasp and tried to have him killed by the eaters of men.”

Farid led the clapping as he concluded his installment. “Thank you, sir! Truly wondrous are the tales you bring us. Are these true things of the world that happened while we slept?”

Foster smiled. “Some are, some could have been, and others are merely fanciful stories. Perhaps you should get back to work before your grandfather has to shout for you, eh? I think...” He stopped at that moment, suddenly aware of the approach of Hakim and a younger fennec femme. Famir's eyes widened and he scurried off to find his broom.

Hakim nodded as the boy left. “Sergeant Foster. If you would permit, my daughter has requested to be introduced to you.”

Foster stood and bowed in the local fashion. “The honor is mine, Hakim.”

Hakim smiled. “The hetman has spoken well of you, and you have been a good influence on my grandson. Daughter, this is the foreign soldier known as Richard Foster, a sergeant in the army of the Americans from across the sea. Sergeant, this is my daughter, Rajiya.”

She smiled, and spoke for the first time. “Sergeant. I am glad to meet you at last. Farid has spoken of nothing else but your stories for the past month.” She held out her hand to him.

Foster raised an eyebrow, and glanced at her father before taking her hand and shaking it. “And your son has spoken often of you, Rajiya. He is proud of his mother. Though he did not mention your beauty.”

She blushed at the touch and the compliment. “I asked at the Palace, how it was that the Americans greeted people. Did I do it rightly, Sergeant Richard?”

Foster grinned. “Indeed, yes. Will you join me for a while? And please, as I told your father, my friends call me Rick.”

She smiled. “And am I then your friend so soon, Rick?”

He smiled back. “Well, perhaps, and perhaps not. But I would like it to be so.”

* * * *

<Now what is going on here?> The trucks of the abandoned camps were scattered haphazardly across the desert floor, the engines cold for hours according to the infrared imager. The cameras swept across the area as the satellite continued its orbit, and then the heat of individual bodies came up on the screen. “Mr. H? Looks like they've hit the edge of the zero-tech zone. They're still headed for Ba-Yabel, though, since sundown from the distance, and they're spread out. Doesn't look like an attack formation at all. Looks like they're planning to infiltrate.”

Hoskins came over to look at the imagery over his shoulder. “Good work, Fred. Director Lowe told us to get this sort of thing to her right away. Same drill as before, write it up for foreign dissemination, and I'll call her right now.”

* * * *

Haroun frowned at the scrying mirrors. <They abandoned their vehicles last night, but where have they gone?> The tracks led to the nearby roadway, but then disappeared. <But if they travelled the road, what happened to them? Why did nobody report them?> His frown deepened, and he redirected the mirror. The image blurred and then reformed into a soldier who sat up and saluted smartly. “Your Highness?”

“Get Colonel Sayid at once. And if you can find out who was in charge of the eastern border station last night, send for him as well.”

“At once, your Highness!” The soldier vanished from the mirror, to be quickly replaced by Sayid.

Haroun wasted no time on pleasantries. “Colonel, what happened last night?”

Sayid looked confused. “Nothing, your Highness. We watched for the ones you said were coming, but Major Faroukh said that nothing had appeared.”

“Get him at once. The rebels have vanished.”

Sayid barked an order to the soldier standing by, and the man ran off to find the major. Haroun was staring impatiently at the mirror when Mahmoud appeared. “My Prince? The American is here again. Should I tell him -”

Haroun turned abruptly, and waved to the mirror to blank it out. “Admit him at once, Mahmoud. He may be of more use than my own soldiers.” Mahmoud blinked at the vehemence and hurried to get the Ambassador.

* * * *

Haroun stared at the drawing. “How did you do this?”

Knight shrugged. “I am not versed in the details, your Highness. But I am told that it is a scrying technique that needs no light, but finds the heat given off by a person, as though he were a flame in the night.”

“So what does your Seeress tell from this scrying?”

“Her assessment is that they are planning to attack you from within Ba-Yabel itself. If they were planning to join you honestly, they would come by day and ask to join your army. But they bring weapons by night, secretly. They have done this in the past. They will seek to terrorize your people and make them disobey you, by killing those who do not bow to them or by threatening their families. We call it 'assymetrical warfare'.” The phrase was of necessity spoken in English. “They cannot win an open battle, so they attack those who cannot fight back, and hide among those they have frightened.”

Haroun looked at him, disgust written on his features. “They have so little honor?”

Knight shrugged. “They claim that they do, but somehow what they call 'honor' seems to amount to forcing others to believe as they do and do as they are ordered.”

Haroun frowned, and turned back to the mirror, motioning the American to stay where he was. Faroukh was waiting there now along with Sayid. “Major.”

“What do you wish of me, my Prince?”

Haroun's tone was dry. “Competence would be a start. A large number of enemy warriors penetrated your lines last night, and have made it into Ba-Yabel with their weapons. Do you have an explanation?”

Faroukh blanched, and then his face clouded in anger. “I believe so, my Prince. Would it be that this occurred on the south side of my command?”

Haroun glanced at the diagram he was still holding. “It would, Major.”

“That section was officered by a group of the non-sleepers, My Prince. It seems that their loyalty is not as firm as we had hoped.”

Haroun sighed. “Place the officers under arrest, and the rest under guard for now. Sayid?”

The Colonel stiffened. “My Prince?”

“Take half your men, and patrol the city. These interlopers will try to hide among the people. I will have the mages work up a way to detect the weapons they carry.”

Sayid saluted. “At once, my Prince!”

Haroun darkened the mirror and turned back to Knight. “You have been most generous with your assistance, Ambassador. Almost naively so, given the realities of cooperation between nations.”

Knight smiled. “We have a saying, your Highness. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And we have provided little enough, to be honest. A bit of information that cost us nothing to pass on to you.”

“And yet it may save many of my people, and for that I can only be grateful. Does your Seeress have the gift of prophecy as well, to know how this will turn out?”

Knight chuckled. “I have not met her myself, your Highness. But from what I have been told, her ability to predict stems from cleverness, not from prognostication, in spite of what she has been called.”

“We shall see, then. Thank you for your assistance, Ambassador. Let us hope that you do not need to seek another audience like this one in the near future.”

Knight nodded. "I have already ordered my people to prepare our own defenses, your Highness. I should warn you that many of our weapons will work here, as they do not depend on the kind of machinery that reacts badly to magic. Again, should you wish advice about them, you need only ask."

Haroun nodded. "I shall consider this, Ambassador. Thank you for the offer. Perhaps we can discuss this over lunch?"

“I would be honored, your Highness.”