September 3, 1914
Stiff and weary, grim and angry, Eric Slingby came home. He stepped from the portal silently, cloaked in that floating darkness that Reapers could wrap about themselves, radiating menace. From the war room he walked out into Operations. Interns squeaked and scuttled as he passed. In his wake, hand signals were flashed above cube walls. Second shift Juniors ducked and covered. The shift Seniors rose from their desks. Operations Assistant Manager Jacobs waved them back to their seats and led Slingby to the Director's office.
Spears was waiting. "What is the status of the war, Mr. Slingby?"
Eric dropped his duffel bag on the floor.
"British troops have fallen back almost to Paris. We've moved our portals with the battle lines. Reapers working their first shift defend while they are fresh and strong. Then during the next shift they all Reap. At end of that shift they turn their harvest over to the Admins. They eat when they can. They rest for one shift and start over. All Reapers work on their own home-local time, so the shifts are staggered and coverage remains steady.
"Many of the Reapers in our area were called away to help at Allenstein, near Tannenburg. The Russian First and Second Armies' troops were untrained, unsupplied and poorly led. They were massacred by the Germans. The Russians have huge numbers of Reapers but almost all are new Seniors in their fifth through tenth year. They need seasoned veterans to help lead, defend and counsel. Lie low, Avram, or they'll demand you return. Very heavy demon concentration. Peeters of Brussels is working with Czajkowski of Warsaw. You can expect a joint report on that soon, Will. I've asked that reports from battlefields that we're not working be sent to you. I imagine that the Administrators have their own reporting structure.
"Alan did his level best to educate employees of all branches, but we simply ran out of time. Most of the people he taught are now in the front lines or managing War Room portals. They aren't senior enough to be in command positions. What's saving us is that a few of those command positions are held by people I trained. They listen when I explain, out of habit I suppose. Or it might be that an angel is standing behind me; Alan's Sandriel seems to take an interest in our efforts. Nobody knows why. Ask Madame Administrator, she might know.
"The foreign Directors are learning that London fights with them, not for them. They no longer attempt to use our defenders as attack forces in situations that the angels need to handle. If they try to keep their people behind us instead of beside us, we stop until they catch up or we concentrate on defending our own. Our Garrison backs us up. Their Garrisons don't interfere because they don't want us underfoot when they're charging into battle.
"The demons are dying in large numbers. The angels have been fully trained to fight demons but many of the newer Flights are a little uninformed on defending Reapers. They may have been rushed into service without those last few lectures. Possibly there's an instructor somewhere in their system who does not like us and needs to be retired. It lessens our efficiency and adds to the injured list.
"The invaders expected no resistance. The locals defended themselves, of course. The advancing armies started burning villages and shooting civilians almost immediately. This has caused some odd changes in our Reaping and our relations with the demons. I need to talk to Alan about it, and you, Avram, and maybe Chandra, and an Angel if I can find one off-duty. I'll report as soon as I think I have some basic understanding of what's going on."
"Noted. Invasion status in the human realm?"
"Communications are poor. Orders go astray or arrive too late. Generals jealous of each other refuse to cooperate against the common enemy. Both sides have artillery and machine guns and rifles but no effective defenses. They throw their cavalry and infantry against those weapons and lose most of them. We're keeping up with the casualties so far.
"Liège fell first. The ring forts held off the frontal assault surprisingly well, but their guns are fixed in position and cannot be turned to fire at an enemy that has gotten behind them. The German army found an undefended break in the line, moved their artillery through and demolished the forts from the rear. That delayed the German advance by a few hours or a few days, depending on who's talking. According to Gruber of Vienna, any delay to the German advance is significant because it tempts them to change their war plan in ways that may backfire.
"Namur has fallen. Mons is abandoned. Maubeuge is under siege. The French have retreated nearly to St. Quentin. The Germans had planned to encircle and destroy them at Charleroi, but the French Fifth Army got away. Another deviation from the Schlieffen Plan.
"Germany is pushing hard towards Paris. Too fast, actually, they're outrunning their supply lines. I think they'll stall at the Aisne River. All sides expected a short victorious war. They're just beginning to realize they'll have no such thing. They'll dig trenches, giving up mobility for shelter. Then they'll shoot and shell each other until nobody's left."
For a moment the room was silent. Then Spears checked his watch. "Mr. Jacobs, please arrange to talk to Mr. Slingby tomorrow morning. Mr. Slingby, I have been requested to send you home to report to Mr. Humphries as soon as this meeting ends. I do not wish to experience the revenge your partner would visit upon me if I failed to do so. I also do not wish to learn what my own partner would do to me if I stayed late tonight. Dismissed."
"Thank ye, Will. Give Grell me regards. Avram, me best to Gavin. Shall we meet for breakfast?"
"I'm working through third shift. Call me when you're ready."
Slingby rose stiffly and picked up his bag. "Will. Enough. I'm going to start coming home with my shift. If ye need a constant presence over there, assign somebody else to cover first and third shift. Somebody with rank and a bad temper, who can deny their demands and make it stick."
Jacobs opened the door. Slingby walked to it, nodded his thanks, and ported away on his next step. Jacobs looked back at Spears.
"He's been away too long, Will. You know what that does to both of them. Give him tomorrow off."
Slingby appeared outside the door of the apartment he shared with Humphries.
The door opened to warm light, the aroma of fresh-baked bread, and the welcoming happiness that was Alan. He was caught in a flying embrace. Quickly he was shoved into a hot shower, wrapped in a robe, fed his favorite dinner and thrown into bed.
Some considerable time later, contented and warm and well-had, resting against the headboard with Alan wrapped around him, Eric relearned how to laugh. Somehow, lately, he had lost the knack. It appeared that Alan also was coming up out of an unusually grim mood.
"Knox doesn't know the trouble he's in, poor fellow," said Alan. "He manipulated Will expertly with tales of the disrespect shown Grell. He got the reaction he wanted – and the one you wanted, Eric, don't deny it! Then he gave me a different story, calculated to activate my protective instincts in a way that Will could approve. It worked, too.
"But Will knew he was being used, and so did I. Will's pleased. He's looking for talented people to take over his desk if something happens to him. Ronnie's just qualified himself for management training. Expect him to be removed from the front lines. Which I am going to encourage, because I want to give him his apprentice back. Molly's been ordered to guard me closely. She's much too good at it. I can't get away with anything when she's on duty. Someday I will have to do something unapproved, offsite, and I don't want to have to hurt her."
"Alan, me love, ye must not…!"
Alan laid a finger on Eric's lips.
"Must not go alone outside anywhere, yes, I recognized your brogue behind Ronnie's message. Eric, be reasonable. We must plan for the day when I will have to put myself at risk. In that emergency, I will need to be prepared to act quickly. If they'd paired me with a combat veteran like Sorenson, no problem. We'd be done in an hour and home for pie. But Ronnie's third-year unproven Junior, who's been given her orders from the Director himself? She will object, argue, try to stop me, yell for backup. I'll have to waste time disarming and imprisoning her. If I let her come along, she will slow me down and get us both killed."
Eric grumped. Logic was unwelcome. But Alan was right. He needed a competent co-conspirator, not a ball and chain. "D'you think our Ronnie could become a second Will?"
"Better him than me. Will would obey an order to send us all to Hell. With training, so could Knox. I couldn't. I wouldn't. It's as simple as that. Now, D'Acres is the current Number Two for Spears, but he's too senior and too competent; he's going to be sent to fill the next Directorial vacancy. Probably Bristol, after their Number One gets set aside. The Higher Ups will have to intervene now that the Academy has refused to send him any more graduates."
"D'Acres' wife won't like that."
"D'Acres' wife already has a country-wide portal in her hall closet. Where Roland works will make no difference unless they pull him across the Channel, in which case he'll come home with the rest of his shift. Nobody is going to argue with Sarah Goodfellow. She has far too many ways to get even.
"D'Acres will take your understudy Garraway along because they'll have to tear down Bristol's abusive training customs and rebuild. If Birch is unwilling to step up, you're going to have to find yourself a new candidate. Would you like a little more of the single malt?"
"Aye. Thankee."
Alan reached for the bottle on the bedside table. He poured a dram, then handed over a small cruet. Eric added a drop of water to open the flavor.
"Ah, that is good. I need to start carrying a flask. A taste of this could buy favors and knowledge."
Alan smiled. "I'll see what's available. In fact, it's a good errand for Molly. She will return to find that I have behaved in her absence. It might gain me a bit of wholly misplaced trust. But now, I want to know everything you can tell me about the reactions on the Liège side of the portal that Franklin and Cole installed."
Eric slid lower down upon the pillows. "They had no problem in Liège because the entire Realm knew what had happened in our barracks. Everyone stayed well away after we'd posted a guard and bloodied some long noses.
"The installation was quick. They'd done all the heavy work in the War Room first, as ye know. The bits for the Belgian side were set up in advance. They dropped it into place in the rafters, using the entire room as a gateway. Only the least bit of tweaking had to be done, setting up the manual controls at the back of the room. Franklin used the opportunity to add some extra features. He seemed to be taking this personally. Isn't he sweet on one of our ladies?"
"Antonia Asaro. For some time now. They sit holding hands in the Cafeteria, gazing into each other's eyes while their tea goes cold. It's cute. They probably would have handfasted at the next summer party if the war hadn't started."
"Aye, that explains it. Donnie Cole brought in a team to stay with the gateway. Some folks came over the next day. They wanted some off-duty demon-patrol overtime from us. Alas and behold! There was nobody there to roust out of bed. Nobody there at all but me, the Scientific team and a burly maintenance crew. They tried to conscript everybody. Franklin pointed out that they had no authority over members of noncombatant Divisions and suggested they go molest a goat. I informed them that London overtime now has to be arranged with Director Spears for a nominal fee per minute per capita. Ye've never seen a man go so purple as the leader of the impressment team.
"Oh, ye chuckle now, me lad. But wait for the next bit.
"Liège fell and the armies moved on. When the Scientific team moved the gateway to the next battleground, it was in a less secure location. No barracks for us anymore, so we placed it near the Scythes repair tent. I was a bit worried about hostiles trying to get across to London so they could do mischief. The portal crew just smiled and told me not to worry me head about it.
"Next day I learned that the controls were protected by a keypad. Franklin had set a random cycle of unpleasant destinations for those who didn't have the code. The first unauthorized person who tried to tinker with it found himself a mile offshore of Ostend, twenty feet up over the ocean. Of course, his tracking triggered when he hit the water, but the retrieval team was one of ours, and they decided to stay dry. They let him make his own draggletailed way ashore before whisking him off to Headquarters to explain himself. There was only one further attempt, which ended in the sewers of Paris. Grell's collecting bets on where the third destination might be. She sends the really creative suggestions to Franklin."
"Anybody else pulling their people home?"
"Yes. Quite a few of the German and French branches already have. Some so they won't be accused of condoning bad behavior. Others so they can identify and demote their embarrassing bad apples. More are requesting portals because they too want to avoid rest-shift overtime, which gets people hurt. No argument from the angels, who flash back to their garrisons off-duty and don't see any problem with us doing the same thing."
Alan yawned and stretched. "Okay. Good. Rest-shift overtime is a bad thing. Took me years to break Spears of that habit. If Brussels keeps demanding more hours from fewer and fewer branches, those branches will install portals in self-defense. They'll also charge for overtime services, probably more than we do. When the free labor pool dries up, Brussels'll have to change their scheduling habits or go broke. It will save lives in the long run."
"Let's lie down, me love. Tomorrow's coming too soon. Breakfast with Avram Jacobs."
"Mm?"
"I've something I need to discuss when I'm rested. With you, the Ethics instructor. With Avram, who comes from a different culture long ago and far away. Maybe Chandra and Vanderveldt later. But now I need to sleep. I don't think I've slept more than four hours at a time since Will sent me over there."
"That has to change."
"It has. As of today. Told Will so when I came home. I'll do first shift with you, second shift on the battle lines, third shift back home. He didn't like it but Avram was there. Nobody wants to be an ass in front of Avram."