Eric rose early to bring Alan a cup of coffee. The morning after an injury was always difficult. These injuries were unintentional and comparatively minor, but they had been inflicted by an Angel. Somehow that slowed recovery. Which just showed who wrote the rules; someone who didn't want any sass from the underlings. Eric removed Alan's pajamas to check the progress of healing. Ribs, bruises fading and only a little residual soreness. The knee, now, that was going to be a nuisance all day. Eric rummaged in the back of the closet, where all Reapers stored the crutches and canes that they'd brought home from stays in the Infirmary. Every so often they returned the extras back to the doctors. Cane, cane, that one was his and far too long for Alan, ah, here we are. The proverbial short stick Alan always seemed to get stuck with.

Alan had pulled the sheet over himself. His rose gold chain flowed over his pale skin. "Eric, sorry to ask, but I'm going to need some help getting up and dressed. I thought the swelling would be gone by now."

"Aye. No field classes or sparring for you today. You'll never get that knee into your uniform trews. You're going to have to lecture in a pair of mine, rolled up. It's that or me kilt. I'm going to use you as an object lesson in why it's a bad idea to get too close to Angels in combat. Don't think it's currently taught, and it should be."

"No kilt, please. There's a pair of loose workout trousers in the closet. I should add Angelic injury to my lectures today, when it will be reinforced by my needing to sit on a stool instead of standing at my lectern. Oh, ow. After classes, can we stop at the Infirmary and see if they have a brace to keep it steady?"

"Let's get dressed and go straight to the Academy medical service. Might keep you from making it worse. From there you can call and ask your teaching assistants to find a bar stool chair and a wastebasket to rest your feet on."

"My guards—"

"Have 'em meet you there. They may need a check as well."

Alan, knee iced, wrapped, and elevated, remained in the Academy sick bay. He'd fallen asleep again. Eric set his minders to guard the room inside and out. Junior Nurse Collins promised to keep an eye on him. "Rest, basically. Rest, ice, compression, elevation; you know all about that. He should be better by noon, bored and plotting escape. Can you come back here after teaching? I think he'll behave if he knows you're expecting to find him here. His knee needs to be completely healed before he leaves. He's due for his physical as well. We can get that out of the way when he wakes."

"About his escort. They okay?"

"They're fine. Guarding him is just the light sit-down duty they need. They don't have any joint damage. If Instructor Humphries tries to check out early I may ask him to stay just so they can recover fully."

"Aye, that'll keep him. After classes I will take them away for a proper meal. Alan doesn't eat enough."

"That's true, and a disadvantage. He has limited reserves and burns them off too quickly. Some day I want to do a study on Angelic injuries to Reapers. They are rare, fortunately. Tricky. Demonic injuries actually heal faster. Instructor Slingby, have you found his enemy in your Branch?"

"No. Seems to have gone silent. Likely biding till the attention's all on some other emergency. But there might be others, ye ken."

"I don't think your spy is connected to the Academy. I hear a lot of complaining as I patch students up, and none of it resonates with that sort of venom. The staff lounge is free of that as well. Also, I'm taking the advanced training required to become a doctor. As far as I can tell, and I've been listening, he has no enemies left in Medical, Research or Scientific. It's hinted that the last of them were caught in the cleanup of Judicial."

"And Alan's well-liked by the Reaper Monitors. The Angels aren't always happy with him, but they are not involved in this. Thank you, Junior Collins, and good luck with your studies. You'll rise to Senior in June, won't you? Congratulations. I must get to class. I'll be back as soon as I'm free. Kowalczyk? Tell Weissheimer you two are still hurting. Play along with Collins to keep Alan in bed. There's a fine pub lunch in it for you." Alan's guard chuckled and agreed.

Between classes, Eric met with a number of students. The underclassmen were working hard on achieving internships in the various branches and Divisions. Upperclassmen were already looking for apprenticeships. These students seemed a more promising bunch than in some previous drafts. Eric wondered if the definition of suicide had been expanded to include drunken foolishness or stubbornness beyond common sense. But then the classes were so large, maybe these students represented the standard percentage of excellence. And where had a Scottish crofter and farrier like himself picked up a phrase like 'standard percentage?' He'd been listening to the Admins working on the budget. Whatever the circumstances, these students were good.

He encouraged them all. He pointed out that wherever they went, the food would be better. The keener their skills, the longer they would live to serve, and the more likely they would earn some measure of forgiveness. He asked for their preferences (small town, rural, big city, Division) and made notes. Knox had failed to find an apprentice last year; Sutcliff had been in one of her less admirable moods during the interviews, and all their candidates rejected the match. Eric had placed them elsewhere without difficulty.

This year Eric would have to talk to Ronnie and Grell, and ask Spears to talk to Grell as well. They could not be allowed to slack off another year, for their own safety. Grell should not enter the war with a novice in tow. Eric had a candidate for them, a strong sensible woman who would stand up for herself and win Grell's respect. When war came she would be a third year, fully capable, just needing a little seasoning, no danger to her Mentors, able to defend herself if Grell ran off and left her with only Knox as backup.

At noon he showered and dressed. He ported home to retrieve a pair of Alan's trousers, then went back to the Academy nursing station. Instead of demanding release, Alan was still sleeping. Collins took Eric to a small office and closed the door.

"Instructor Slingby. Instructor Humphries' knee is healed, and his ribs as well. Right now he's compensating for fatigue. He has a history of overextending himself, and I believe he's been at it again. Are you, as his partner, able to control that at all? Or is his superior overworking him?"

"I can help a little. They are overloading him again. It's time to bring in some more people to share his duties, although there's so much that only he can do. And it isn't going to get better."

"I have discussed this with him. He's lost weight over the last two years. He's underweight for his height and build, which could endanger you both. He says his appetite is good but he is often too busy for breakfast and lunch. Please encourage him to eat regularly, small meals, protein and fresh vegetables, just a little more than he usually takes but not so much that it makes him uncomfortable. Assign someone to bring him a cup of tea and a muffin or scone midafternoon. He'll do better all day and begin to regain the lost weight. For today, I suggest you wake him, feed him and put him in his own bed until suppertime. Then right back to bed. He'll be fine tomorrow morning."

"I'll do all I can to get him to rest and eat more."

"It's important. Right now, every time he overtires himself he draws on your bond. That should not be happening. Balancing should be rare and reserved for emergencies. Bring him back here in June when I will be a Medical Senior Nurse Practitioner. If he has not improved significantly, I can write a letter to Director Spears. If that has no effect, I will refer the case to a Senior Doctor who can register a formal protest with the full weight of Medical behind it."

"He's drawing, aye, but it's no problem, barely noticeable."

"If you were badly injured today, balancing would kill him. If he were badly injured today, balancing would not save him or you. He must have his own reserves to draw on. Eight pounds at least, twelve would be better, and adequate rest in every twenty-four hour cycle. I want his belt fastened two notches looser by Midsummer."

Eric felt a chill. He'd caused this, drawing on the bond.

Once again, Spears summoned Humphries for a scolding. Once again, it was Slingby who arrived.

"Where is he, Slingby? I have received a complaint from the Brussels Garrison."

"Bugger 'em, Will. Alan exposed a Fallen running their roost. He pointed out a few home truths to a flock of Angels who didn't want to hear 'em. Ask Sandriel for details. As for Alan, he's in bed. Doctor's orders. Well, nearly a doctor; Collins at the Academy."

"Is there a problem with his injuries?"

"No. Fatigue and weight loss. He's approaching another collapse. Collins wants him to have time to eat and sleep. He's threatened to bring in a Senior Doctor to make it a matter of record. If that happens, they could set him down until he recovers. You wouldn't like that.

"Thought I'd warn you that Alan's going to ask to hire another intern next June. Don't go for it. He needs a couple of Junior Admins permanently assigned right now. Can you ask him to pick foreign Seniors from each War Room setup to aid in other setups across the Channel?"

"I agree. Hire the Admins you want for him. Also, I have been told that he must do the final inspection and approval of each War Room himself. That is an order from Higher Up. Obviously that is physically impossible. I have protested to Madame that the Realm will have thousands of them worldwide and one man can't do it. Others will have to be trained. Each Branch that sets up a War Room must then help the other Branches nearby, who in turn must provide help for still others. Their Directors will want a formal request from London for their staff's time. I will give a sample to one of the Juniors so he can make a template and crank them out on demand. I'll sign them as needed. It will speed things up considerably."

"Aye. I might suggest that you look to Alan's previous convalescent guards for War Room inspectors. He's trained them thoroughly in their use and in the alliances needed to run them. The Angels are going to have to start checking their own Garrisons and enforcing cooperation on their own people. Artois is smart enough to know that and so's Uriel, so somebody between them in the hierarchy is making bad decisions. Another request of you, Will. When Alan goes on these inspection trips, I will go with him as a bodyguard. His convalescent guards aren't up to an Angelic brawl. He got hurt trying to protect his minders in Brussels."

"Very well. I will want an action report on each trip. If you cannot go—for instance, if a delivery of Angel blades requires your presence—I will assign a Senior team to escort him. It will lend importance to his mission, which will increase cooperation."

"Actually, Will, you might want to supervise one of these blade deliveries yourself. If you do, you will meet Engineer Crawford, a large man with a mustache of unmatched ferocity. Behind him will be an alert and observant apprentice. That's Smithfield, the fellow who made the demon restraints. Good people to know in the future.

"By the way. I have an excellent candidate for Knox to interview at Midsummer. He knows about it. It's important that Grell not try to scare her off. We are getting closer to whatever's coming. I don't want them trying to protect a greenie when the world explodes. Can you distract her if she's in a mood that day?"

"How long, Slingby?"

"Best guess? Three years. If Grell hadn't run off all of last year's applicants, they'd have had a fourth-year apprentice by then. If she does it again this year, I will assign them my own choice. Won't be as good a match. If I let them delay another year, they'll be going into chaos with a second-year who needs a lot more protection."

Will was silent for a moment. "Thank you. I will talk to Grell tonight. Also I will intervene if necessary at Midsummer. Is your candidate one of our interns?"

"Yes. Amalia Reyes. Quiet but fierce. Strong fighter. Molly's been supporting the Reapers in the southwest corner of the floor. Jacobs, Keneally, Mountjoy and Sorenson all recommend her. Grell will respect and like her, eventually. We have fourteen Juniors reaching promotion in June. I will match all eligible Senior teams this year, even the ones entitled to a year off, same reason. Thirty-nine. Onayemi and Cortland will spread them evenly over the three shifts. They'll have a trainee too. We'll assign them another admin to help cover their paperwork so they can have the necessary street time."

"You served during the plague years. Will we have enough people in three years?"

"No idea. The Angels obviously know more than we do. Their actions tell us a little. But, Will, the people we have will be far better armed and trained than before. Better supported. Maybe we won't lose quite as many. It's the best we can hope for."

"How many did we lose in the last plague?"

"London went from ninety-six Reapers to twelve. Madame and I are the last ones left."