Strandpiel Book Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Unmoveable versus unstoppable?
Every so often this will overlap The Price of Flightwhere the events of that story will be revisited, but from a different direction.
Again, a far longer chapter split into more manageable bits as I strive to hurry the story along
As always, this is V0.01. Revisions et c will inevitably follow.
For Bekki, the flight back to Ankh-Morpork soon settled into a drab, grey, and above all, wet, experience. Hanna von Strafenberg was deliberately keeping them low and within sight of the ground. With cloud thickening above them and coming low to the ground, this was important. Even so, the air group was still flying through cloud every so often. Far from being a thrilling experience, Bekki soon realised it was like moving in fog, and a fog composed of lots of static raindrops just hanging there waiting for something to hit them. Like a fast-moving unprotected broomstick pilot.
She sighed and tried to keep station alongside the blurred shapes to either side, trying hard to be aware of the three moving blurs in front. Collision was a real risk in cloud. She was relived when Sergeant von Strafenburg relayed an order for each pilot to put up cold fire lights, white forward and red behind. She was less relieved when Hanna said this should only be done sparingly, as the magical energy to power the lights came from the reservoir of magic fuelling your broom and therefore reduced your flying time. However, Hanna felt they should still reach the Air Station with power in reserve provided we do not trigger the nav lights too often.
Bekki looked left. Lexi Mumorovka. She looked to her right. Robyn "Parrot" Myers.
She considered the business of callsigns. Robyn had wanted to be something like "Kakapo", which was apparently a bird in the Foggy Islands. Some people called her this. But everybody else, the larger number, just used "Parrot." Meanwhile Vasilisa Budonova wanted to be "Sneguroschka", after the Hogfather's Rodinian helper. All the other Rodinian pilots called her Sneguroschka. Everybody else used "Snow Maiden", which was a literal translation into Morporkian. Vasilisa accepted this. Yulia Vizhinsky was Skripka. This had stuck, even with non-Rodinians, as it was simple and easy. Easier than Sneguroschka, anyway. Some people translated it to Fiddler. This was also accepted.
Bekki herself was Firebird, with a Rodinian side-service of Zhar-Ptsitsa. That was also accepted.
Lexi, over on her left, had no callsign yet. She was an Air Cadet and it had been made clear to her she would need to earn the right. In the air, she was just "Cadet".
"Hey, Sharp Tits! Wake up!"
Bekki realised she'd been drifting slightly to her right. She acknowledged Robyn Myers, and corrected her course in the wet grey enveloping fog. Zhar-ptsitsa had its Morporkian twist too.
18 Spa Lane, Nap Hill, Ankh-Morpork
"Okay, so we need some sort of recorded assessment of educational attainment, on first recruitment." Olga said. "A basic written exam, and an oral interview. Concentrating on competence in written Morporkian and mathematics."
She nodded to Ethylene Glynnie.
"Ideally modelled on the sort of basic testing the Assassins' Guild School carries out with potential pupils, aged ten or eleven. Ethylene, thank you for offering to find sample tests for us, by the way. And – very diplomatically – to screen the pilots we have, either in service or in training, to assess their competences and judge if any necessary remedial teaching needs to be offered. It is not just us. I know Mr Vimes still gets Watch recruits who struggle with basic literacy and so on. And not all of them are Trolls."
"Later, perhaps, geography." Yelena said. "Indispensible, in your occupation."
"The basic principles." Ethylene Glynnie remarked. "Where places are. What languages they speak. How far away they are. Then the Political Geography, which I understand is also essential. I'm assuming this needs to be slanted to why Lord Vetinari considers they are politically significant?"
"This is covered during flight briefings at the Palace." Olga said, after a thoughtful pause. "But people who are knowledgeable about the basics, the openly and commonly known information, will be easier to brief, certainly."
Claude the butler reappeared. He addressed Johanna.
"Miss Rebecka has returned, my lady."
He looked over to Olga and Nadezhda.
"She is accompanied by Air Cadet Mumorovka of the Air Watch. They are currently stowing their broomsticks in the hall. Alongside those of Captain Romanoff and Sergeant Popova."
Johanna smiled.
"Show them in, Claude."
Two bedraggled and soggy Air Policewomen were ushered in. In the background, Eve diligently prepared hot drinks. Bekki looked at her reception committee and thought quickly. She stamped to attention and saluted. To her right, Lexi came to a boot-stomping halt.
"Flying Officer Smith-Rhodes and Air Cadet Mumurovka reporting for duty, ma'am."
Olga smiled back, benevolently. She returned the salute.
"Stand easy, stand down." she requested. "I understand from Senior Sergeant von Strafenberg that you're both now off-watch and off-duty."
She exchanged a sideways glance with Johanna.
"Do me a favour. After you've had a chance to get dry, tidy up and change clothes. Both of you. I'm currently sitting in the living room in your house, Rebecka. Right next to your mother. I'm a guest here. When you've tidied up and changed out of uniform into clean dry clothing, as far as I'm concerned, it's just Olga. Nothing else, no Olga Anastacia. To you, Bekki, just Olga. Got that? Thank you."
Nadezhda smiled at them both.
"Remember our talk, Firebird? No uniform, no sergeant's stripes, off duty. Just Nadezhda. And greet your mother, devyuschka."
"Hi, mum." Bekki said, grateful.
"How was training?" Johanna asked.
Bekki grinned.
"Ag, ma. Was bitterkoud." she said. "Ken jy die oude liedjie? Streepsak en reën kleef teen my? Was streepsak- nat."
Johanna laughed.
Olga concentrated, frowned and laughed.
"Dit verstaan ek. Dit is 'n ou Boer lied, ja-nee?" she said, in her very imperfect Vondalaans.
"Getting better, Olga." Johanna remarked. She turned to Nadezhda, Ethylene and Yelena, who were all looking politely blank.
"Bekki has just quoted an old song. Apparently it was very wet, and all she had for cover was an old sack." she explained.
"And at night, a tent." Bekki replied.
"Da. Me. You. Blankets. Chocolate." Lexi said.
"You had chocolate. In that case I would not complain." Nadezhda said. she smiled. "Senior Sergeant von Strafenberg is not renowned for providing luxury accommodation in training. Always, have chocolate in pack."
"Good advice." Johanna said.
"Anyway, mum." Bekki said. "When we got back to the Air Station I realised Lexi doesn't have much in the way of dry clothes to change into. She's got Air Watch uniforms and she's got the usual Witch-wear, but she doesn't have much in the way of, you know, everyday. I reckon I can sort her out some spare clothes of mine, you know, a loan, as we're almost the same size?"
Johanna looked critically at both girls.
"Thirteen, aren't you?" Johanna said to Lexi. Bekki reflected that getting ages right was a teacher-skill, probably like the way a dressmaker could glance at you and say "Size Ten", or an undertaker could casually assess a customer and call "Number Seven coffin, Ralph!" to an assistant.
"Da, dama." Lexi replied, respectfully.
Johanna studied her.
"Same height as Bekki, a bit slighter in build. Any clothes you borrow will need taking in. We'll manage."
She smiled at them.
"One of you can use the en-suite in mine and Ponder's room. The other of you gets the main bathroom. Bathe, get dry, clean clothes. Eve, would you? Dankie."
The girls went upstairs. Johanna caught the look Lexi was giving Bekki, a sort of wide-eyed adoration, and smiled. She saw most of the others had got it too, with the exception of Olga.
"Ah. The classic girl-crush." Ethylene Glynnie said, with a smile.
"Da. I wonder if the Firebird realises?" Yelena agreed.
"Not quite with you?" Olga asked, puzzled. She noted Nadezhda Popova was smiling broadly. Nadezhda looked, if anything, relieved.
"Olga, I ask Hanna to put Rebecka with Alexandra. There was reason." Nadezhda said.
"Two of us teach in a boarding school." Johanna said, spelling it out. "Yelena is new to our school, but she has experience in teaching elsewhere. You see this a lot."
Ethylene smiled at Olga. "Imagine a situation where a young girl has left her family and any friends she had at home to come to live at a school. Or perhaps to go into vocational training. She might be shy, withdrawn, intense, find it difficult to make friends of her own age. An older girl shows her kindness and is supportive. What do you think might happen next?"
Olga reflected. The nearest and perhaps the only equivalent of a best friend of the same age had been Irena Politek. It had been intense and rocky at first but a couple of decades on, she and Irena were closer than sisters, still best friends.
"Excuse me, I never went to school." Olga replied. "At least, not in the normally accepted sense. But I begin to understand, I think."
Yelena gave her a look of understanding. Olga realised why Yelena Garianova had a familiar look about her, one that prodded long-ago memories: she had been a private tutor and a governess to girls from the higher social classes. It explained the uncharacteristic feeling Olga had that she should be deferentially submissive to this woman, sit up straight, and be on her best behaviour. She tried to shake this out of her head, and continued.
"Alexandra has no friends of her own age, only the other girls in training. She is not especially close to any of them. She yearns to be three years older, so I can discharge her as a Cadet and sign her into the Air Watch proper. This is her desire, her life. She identifies with older girls."
"Let me guess. No older sisters." Johanna said.
"No younger sisters, also." Nadezhda said. "Just brothers."
"Ah…" Johanna, Ethylene and Yelena said, practically together.
"Olga, Alexandra needs big sister. She has met Firebird." Nadezhda said, spelling it out.
"Ag, this girl needs sisters." Johanna said. She frowned. "Olga, you say she is boarding with an old Witch who is over seventy? No other girls her own age nearby?"
"Girl crush." Ethylene Glynnie said. "I understand they have just undergone some very intense training together and had to make the best of sharing a small cold tent on a damp rainy night? A girl of that age, who realises she has been a little starved of normal human affection, can have her mind imprinted by an intense shared experience. I note they bonded over a shared bar of chocolate at the ed of an uncomfortable day, for instance."
She smiled, a teacher on familiar turf.
"Olga, we see this at the School. Alexandra is in a state not unlike love with Rebecka. Nothing improper, Olga. Nothing Blue Cat. Just… intense. The technical term, apparently, is limerence. "
She looked thoughtful.
"I wonder if Rebecka's realised it yet?"
The five of them contemplated this. Olga noted that she'd known Johanna Smith-Rhodes for long enough to recognise her scheming face, as if she was planning a course of action. She sensed it might be to do with Lexi. Olga's witch-senses were telling her so.
Claude stepped forward again from the entrance hall.
"My lady? Miss Famke has arrived. She is somewhat…."
"Hi, Mum! Any chance of a cup of…"
Famke pulled up short, recognising her Housemistress was present, as well as her Rodinian teacher. She set her big school bag down. It looked as if it was bulging with stuff.
"I was about to venture an opinion that Miss Famke looks somewhat dishevelled." Claude said, finishing his sentence.
"I agree." Johanna said. She glowered slightly at her middle daughter. Famke looked back, with no apparent fear. She was used to Mum's disapproving face.
Mum nodded at Miss Glynnie.
"Shall I say it, or shall you?" she invited.
Miss Glynnie shook her head.
"Famke, you have just come straight here from the playing fields at Tegg's Nose?" she said.
"Yes, Miss." Famke replied, meekly. She recognised This is my Housemistress talking. And again felt rebellious that so many teachers at the school were friends of Mum.
"Where you do cross-country-running." Miss Glynnie said. "Today, it has been raining. Therefore, you have been running in mud. I can't help noticing you are still in your sports kit, you have simply thrown your overcoat on over everything, and you have clearly not bothered to shower, or even wash, or change back into school uniform, before crossing the city to come home. I'm assuming your uniform is just stuffed randomly into your bag, from the way it's bulging."
"Yes, Miss." Famke said, meekly. And Miss Garianova is here. And Olga Romanoff, but she can be okay. Friend of Mum's. That dark-haired woman, I don't know, though. Sure I've seen her somewhere around the city…
"Famke, you do know it's a breach of school rules, if you are allowed a Wednesday leave after Sports, not to make yourself acceptably presentable to walk through the streets? That means washing after Games. Also you are not wearing the correct school uniform. That's a second breach."
"That's not fair, Miss." Famke protested. "Have you seen those filthy grotty smelly disgusting showers in the Sports changing rooms? You'd only use them if you were desperate. I reckoned since home is only a half-hour' walk away I could slip out and have a proper wash here. In a clean bathroom. With hot water and proper soap."
Miss Glynnie sighed. She was used to Famke by now.
"You could at least have put your school uniform on, over your sports kit, if you had to." she said.
Famke shook her head.
"Didn't want to get it dirty, Miss." she said.
Miss Glynnie sighed.
"Verbal warning, Miss Smith-Rhodes-Stibbons." she said. "And that is being lenient. Don't let me catch you doing this again."
"Thanks, Miss." Famke said, beaming through a coating of mud and grime. She turned to go.
"Just going for a bath and a change of clothes, Mum."
Johanna shook her head.
"You'll be lucky, meisie." she said. "Your sister brought a friend home with her. They both arrived a bit grubby too, for legitimate reasons in their case. So both bathrooms are in use, and you're just going to have to wait."
Claude had a brief whispered conversation with Blessing the maid. He stepped forward.
"My lady, Blessing has just advised me the bath in the servants' quarters is free." he informed Johanna. "In the circumstances, Miss Famke, who desperately requires a bath, could use this bathroom?"
Johanna grinned.
"Good idea, Claude. Thank you."
She nodded at Famke.
"Off you go. Get clean. Take your bag. And, meisie, if you leave a tide mark, you are cleaning it off. It will not be fair on the servants to scrub their own bath after you use it. Go. See you later."
"Follow me, Miss Famke." Blessing said. She did not offer to carry Famke's bag. Claude did not press her.
Johanna shook her head.
"Children." Nadezhda said, with a resigned sigh. "Have three of my own. Sons require frequent reminding concerning cleanliness."
"Sometimes, so do daughters." Johanna replied. They shared the look of beleaguered parents, and bonded.
"My son has been offered place at Assassins' School." Nadezhda said, with a sigh. "Have to say, not completely sure."
Johanna recovered a recent memory.
"Yuri Yureyevich?" she asked. She remembered Lord Downey had asked her to work on the mother and secure a good prospect for the School. She sighed, and decided there was no time like the present.
"Da. You know him?" Nadezhda asked.
"Met him. He's a good boy. You and Yuri must be proud."
"Da. By your kindness, Yuri is bringing children here later, for dinner."
"Looking forward to it. Yuri's a colleague. That's Yuri… Timofeyovich? We should have social meals together. I've known Olga almost since she arrived in this town. Makes sense to meet one of her colleagues properly. Especially since you had to do with Bekki's training in the Air Watch."
Nadezhda went quiet and thoughtful.
"I have had little to do with Guild School." she said. She appeared to be slowly, thoughtfully, assembling an argument, concentrating on finding the right words. "Unlike Olga Anastacia, I do not know Assassins or people who work and teach at School. My husband works for School, it is true, but at stables on edge of City, long way from Filigree Street. He helps manage stables and teaches riding. But riding horses, the Cossack way."
The three Assassin teachers exchanged glances. Mr Yuri Yermak did indeed teach horse-riding skills.
"Unfortunately, today he is working with the School team for Dressage and Showjumping." Yelena observed. Her face went poker, as did Olga's. Johanna and Ethylene exchanged the sort of look that asked how School Management thought this was going to work out, exactly. An Assassins' School riding team was going to participate in a big prestige event, the Royal Ankh-Morporkian Horse Show, the sort of socially upscale gymkhana that had a pedigree going back centuries, and in many respects epitomised the values of upper-class Ankhian nobility.
As Yelena pointed out, it was a different equine tradition to her own.
"Grooming your horses until they look perfect is not a bad thing. It teaches the essential discipline of tending to your horse, and looking to its needs. Although taken to an extreme it looks…. well, un-necessary. Making them dance and perform intricate movements is also not, in itself, bad. The Borogravians originated this, and I understand as they recover after the wars, the Toledan Riding School is re-establishing itself in the town of Wiener. I wish them luck. This also teaches the right mind-set, that the rider and the horse must be as one."
She paused.
"It is all too pretty for my taste. Very dainty."
"Da." Nadezhda agreed. "Yuri, he thinks same. Thinks it is impressive, pretty to watch, he must be there to help, but not really for him. So you got afternoon off from assisting with how Ankh-Morpork thinks riding of horses should be done?"
"Da." Yelena agreed. "I was glad to come here, for this educational conference. Yuri and I think showjumping could be made more interesting, if at the top of the jump, the rider draws a shashka and chops a target in two, or throws a kjindal to hit a target, or else has to fire a horsebow at target. To add interest to it. Yuri and I offered to demonstrate."
"And how did Mr Harvey-Smith respond to that?" Johanna asked. In her mind, she tried to imagine a Cossack team entering a showjumping event. It would certainly add interest.
"He said it was a point of view, but just at this moment we have to be compliant with Royal Horse Show rules." Yelena replied. "Nichevo."
Olga Romanoff looked as if she was in deep thought for a moment. Then she grinned.
"I have to organise a Pegasus Service flypast." she remarked. "Politics. Vetinari thinks we should demonstrate, at the Horse Show in the eyes of the world, the sort of horses Ankh-Morpork has at its disposal. And as he said to me, where better?"
She switched to Rodinian.
"Nadezhda, Yelena. How many Cossacks are there in Ankh-Morpork today? We are from all Hosts. But that doesn't matter. Maybe we should enter a team. Just, you know. A little demonstration. Select the very best riders."
They discussed this. It sounded animated and amused to the others.
"The three of you are plotting something." Johanna remarked.
Olga smiled. She switched back to Morporkian.
"Speculating on how many Cossacks live in Ankh-Morpork. These days, I suspect enough of us to form a small Host. We were thinking, what would the heraldry look like, the colours we carry in the crown of the astrakhan fur cap."
Nadezhda snorted.
"Dark brown cross on lighter brown background." she suggested. "Is symbolic."
"Or a sort of dirty orange-yellow-brown." Olga agreed. "If the white-over-red of the Ron Host symbolises the blood you are prepared to shed to assure peace, or the white-over-black, that Yelena and I of the Vulga Host wear, is symbolic of life on the Steppe cut back to the very barest necessary essentials: or that the gold-over-blue of the Sy'berian Host symbolises the endless sky and the richness of life, to be found even on the tundra of the Vortex Plains…."
Olga took a breath
"Then any colours adopted by the Ankh-Morporkian Host should symbolise their land, their life, this city."
"Is brown cross over dirty yellow, then." Nadezhda agreed.
"Business?" Ethylene Glynnie suggested. She was the only Ankh-Morporkian native in the room, and was fighting down an irrational impulse to defend the place. She summarised the discussion.
"We have agreed that all current Air Watch pilots, with priority to Cadets in training, should receive an educational assessment. Those over sixteen will be offered voluntary opportunities to enhance their learning. But we focus on your Cadets first. For two half-days a week we bring them together in small groups of five and polish up their classroom learning. The emphasis, at first, will be written language and mathematical competencies. This also has the benefit of bringing together girls of approximately the same age group, so they also get some of the social aspects of a group education. Myself, Johanna and Yelena will put our heads together concerning a syllabus."
Ethylene smiled.
"So. Who does the teaching?" she asked.
Yelena smiled.
"I'm only a part-time teacher at the Guild School, for the moment." she said. "It would not stretch me too much to do this as an additional duty. Working with young witches sounds interesting."
"Da, but we cannot ask you to work for nothing." Olga said. "I know from my own education what a private teacher might reasonably expect to earn."
She paused a moment. Then grinned.
"Yelena, how would you like to be the Air Watch Education Officer? We can pay you a daily rate for part-time work, you would be classed as a Civilian Assistant, so you would be excused training with the Watch. Unless, of course, you want to become a Special."
Yelena indicated she would be interested.
"Do I get to fly?" she asked.
"Do you wish to? We can take you up as aircrew on a two-seater, perhaps. You're sensible. I can always find room for sensible." The average age of a pilot is eighteen, Olga thought. I also need older. Yelena is in her early thirties, perhaps. Doesn't matter she's not a witch and can only go up as aircrew, if at all. I'm employing her for other things, I can reassure Vetinari I'm doing something about the education gaps, those young girls get at least a part-time education, and there's another sensible mature older woman around the Air Station. Everybody benefits.
She turned her head.
"Nadezhda, we now need to convince Mr Vimes he will be employing an Education Officer. You can come with me, to present the arguments in favour. Khoroscho."
"Welcome to Air Watch." Nadezhda said, gravely. "Is good life, if you do not weaken."
"Mother Rodinia makes you strong."(1) Yelena replied, equally gravely.
She and Nadezhda embraced.
"Reckon Mr Vimes will pay?" Johanna asked.
Olga shrugged.
"He generally does, if the arguments are good. He has Watchmen who struggle to spell their own names correctly, remember? As a Special, how many times are you asked to help other Watchmen with their reports? If you are literate, they queue up. Used to happen to me a lot. But after I became Captain, not so much."
"Truth." Johanna agreed.
Claude came back from the front door.
"Mr Yuri Timefoyevich Yermak, is here, madam. He has brought Masters Yuri and Nikita, and young Miss Tatiana."
"Show them in, Claude."
Yuri Yermak, Johanna later reflected, put her in mind of a boisterous bear, perhaps a recent cub not quite grown to maturity. She recovered from a vigorous hug, thinking "Black bear? Perhaps the spectacled bear, the next smallest species. Although they are quieter and less extrovert."
She quickly adjusted her opinion to Like my father or Mustrum Ridcully, but scaled down in size.
In the background, she heard Nadezhda say something in Rodinian, and then Yelena translating it for Ethylene Glynnie's benefit.
"She said Put her down, mischka". Mischka is a word that can mean little bear."
"Fitting." Ethylene said. She sounded amused.
Nadezhda got up and went to join him. She accepted embraces from her children, and took over the introductions.
"Мишка, Ведите себя прилично!"
Johanna got that this was one step away from "wait till I get you home." She spoke no Rodinian, but she reasoned that if you've been married for long enough, some remarks from a wife to a husband are universal and require no interpreter.
"Mother Hen and the Little Bear." Yelena remarked, to Olga.
"Da. It's a good marriage." Olga replied. "I'm happy for them. And for the children… Tatiana, did you have a good day at school? Have you met Yelena Lidianovna yet? Be respectful, she is a teacher."
Johanna was showing Yuri and his sons the weapons walls. Yuri the father seemed respectfully fascinated, asking questions about various weapons and their provenances. Both sons were interested, too. Johanna decided to push her luck a little.
"If your parents decide to send you to the School, Yuri…Yurevich, you will be required to familiarise yourself with the handling and the usages of many weapons." she said, trying hard not to look at Nadezhda, or to make the sales pitch too obvious.
"Does anything you see especially interest you?"
Young Yuri studied the wall intently. He seemed particularly interested by the swords.
"Doctor Smith-Rhodes, I spend school holidays studying and learning with my parents' people, the Cossacks, and training to use the swords." he said. She noted his accent was completely Ankh-Morpork.
"He may be granted swords when he becomes fourteen, maybe fifteen." Yuri the father said. "Maybe if he goes to Assassins' School and learns there, he will get Cossack swords younger."
Johanna smiled.
"If that is the case, Yuri…Timofeyevich…, then the cultural weapons rule will apply, and the School will let him wear them." she assured him. "Where a pupil is of a culture where the open carrying of weapons is demanded of its young people, or if they have been granted the right by their people to carry weapons, the School is understanding and permits this."
Yuri the father beamed with pleasure. Johanna glanced to her right. Nadezhda was looking thoughtful. As if she was considering the question.
"Doctor, you have Cossack swords here? Shashkas?" Yuri the son said. His parents leant over to look. Johanna heard Nadezhda chuckle a little, as if she was remembering something.
"From the Baikal Host." Young Yuri said. "One set has the duck's head pommel. The other has the horse-head of the Vulga people."
"Well identified." Nadezhda said. "Khoroscho."
"I'm curious, doctor. How did you get them?" asked Old Yuri.
Johanna smiled.
"My sister and a friend were passing through the Vulga country on a long trip they took." she replied. "There was a little trouble. Mariella, my sister, acquired the swords, shall we say. She sent them back to me, and asked if I wanted them for the collection." (2)
"Ah." Yuri said, understandingly. "Trophies of battle, then. But the other set, from the Baikal?"
Johanna shrugged.
"Mr Vimes asked me to store them safely after they were confiscated from their owner. I believe he is enjoying a long stay in the Tanty right now. The agreement is that when released, he will be exiled from the City. As these are cultural weapons, the Patrician has said they will be returned to him, on his release, at the City gate of his choice. I'm just keeping them safely."
"Da. I arrested him." Nadezhda said. "Molodoi chelovek called Oblamov. Was fight in pub. He was drunk. Tried to raise weapon to me. I disarmed him. Arrested him. Wondered where his weapons went."
Johanna nodded. It had occurred to her that Nadezhda could be a hard fighter. Now she knew. She glanced down to left and right; Nadezhda and her husband both wore shashka swords with a stylised eagle-head pommel. She remembered that Olga Romanoff and Yelena Garianova both had the horse-head design, their sword pommels looking oddly like chess pieces.
"The eagle's head is the identifying mark of the Siberian host?" she asked.
Yuri beamed with delight.
"Da. We are the sky-blue eagles!" he said. (3)
Rebecka and Lexi returned to the living room at this point. Both had bathed, dried and changed. Johanna nodded appreciatively at the change in Lexi; out of uniform, she was now looking like a normal everyday girl of thirteen, and not like a girl in uniform who clearly had Olga Romanoff as her role-model. And neither of them looked like obvious Witches, either. Bekki had visibly taken time and care over presenting herself as a normal teenage girl, and had clearly taken time over dressing Lexi in good everyday clothes that suited her.
"Looking good, Firebird." Olga said, appreciatively. "And remember. While I'm still in uniform, you are not, and I am now Olga."
Boffo again, Bekki reminded herself. Not just hats. Dress her like a normal girl and you get a normal girl. And Mother Hen's come over to fuss over her, be generally approving and motherly, and to tweak things and tuck things in. She'll be spitting on a corner of a hanky and wiping a smut off Lexi's face next…
"Damn." Olga said, seemingly remembering something. "Johanna, I've been here for a little over two hours discussing the big issue with you. Thank you all for your assistance, by the way. Only two hours were set aside for this, and I need to report in at the Air Station very soon."
She looked at Bekki.
"Rebecka, I really need to interview you later. Don't worry, you're not in trouble. But Sergeant Popova briefed me on a conversation she had with you concerning a place called Harty-beast-er and what is happening there."
"Hartebeeste." Mum corrected, automatically.
Olga smiled slightly.
"I suspect this must be at least a semi-formal interview, devyushka. Certainly Witch business, which we have a duty to attend to, Air Watch or not. I have considered this, and there would also be formal complications. Therefore it must be a recorded interview. If this is alright, Johanna, after you have all had dinner here, I would like to return, with Irena Politek. Then we can discuss the situation and how we should respond. As witches and – this will also be important – as uniformed officers of Ankh-Morpork. Operating in a sovereign foreign country. We need a strategy for that."
Johanna nodded.
"Ja. The possibility of people in Ankh-Morporkian uniforms turning up in Howondaland, end taking over." she said, drily. "Historically, that was a bit of an issue a century ago."
"So we tread carefully." Olga said. "We are not just Witches."
She noted Claude was holding her flying helmet and cloak for her.
"When you return, you will be off-duty, Captain Romanoff?" he asked. "I will have appropriate drinks ready for yourself and Lieutenant Politek. Sto gram, as you appreciate it."
"I need a butler." Olga remarked. She exchanged farewell kisses and hugs with the others.
"Surprised you don't already have one." Johanna said.
Olga shrugged.
"The apartment is too small. Nowhere to put servants' quarters. Nichevo."
Olga departed.
To be continued – part three will soon follow
(1) Mother Russia Makes You Strong is a trope on TV Tropes about how "Russian" = "hard, tough, uncompromising, do not pick a fight with this person".
(2) The tale of Rivka and Mariella's second road-trip, across the Central Continent from Ankh-Morpork to Genua to mark the end of their time as single girls prior to marriage (they had the joint hen-party in Genua, where old friends met up and much was quaffed) is yet to be told.
(3) Originally a boast of Ghengis Khan's Mongols; the boast about being "sky-blue eagles, sweeping down on our enemies" appears to have carried into some Cossack traditions in Siberia and the east. As mentioned before, ducks are big business in the Lake Baikal region.