“You’re wrong.”
Once more in the city of Ani at Kosatka, Carmen Ochoa bit back her first response, trying to come up with a more diplomatic one. “My assessment is based on—”
“Your assessment is wrong,” Jayne Redman said as if correcting a child.
Carmen counted to ten inside before saying anything else. “I’m on the scene. I’m collecting the intelligence.”
“You’re too close to it all,” Redman said. “My office is far enough back to have the necessary perspective. And, if you’ll pardon my being blunt, we have actual trained intelligence analysts here to evaluate the available information. Analysts such as myself. Your experience is . . . self-taught. Amateur.”
Feeling heat in her face and the muscles in her jaw tightening, Carmen sat silent. She’d learned long ago that tactic could throw off people like Redman.
Outside, the morning was far enough along that sunbeams were surely spearing through the open sky between the empty buildings of Ani. But the dim illumination here in a bare inner room was mainly provided by the light from the screen of Carmen’s comm pad. Most of the soldiers in the unit she was with were sleeping in other rooms, so she’d chosen a separate place where any conversation wouldn’t bother them. Carmen wasn’t sure whether this room had been intended as a small office or a large closet, but it answered her need for privacy.
After a long pause, Redman frowned at her. “We’re in the process of professionalizing this office so we can ensure the best possible support for decision makers by maximizing group dynamics, effective interaction, and synergy in analysis. If you want to be part of that process, you need to integrate yourself into the team mind-set, embrace positive priorities, and adopt positions that resonate with those reached by your colleagues.”
Carmen shook her head. “Have you forgotten that I worked in Earth gov? I know exactly what all of those words mean. Or rather, what they don’t mean. Please don’t waste my time with meaningless phrases that sound important.” She saw that jab go home in a way that telegraphed that Jayne Redman hadn’t bothered learning much about Carmen’s past before trying to browbeat her. “My job is to give the military commander in Ani the best information I can, and the best assessment I can of what it means.”
“Your job is what I say it is.”
“Perhaps you should inform General Edelman of that,” Carmen said. “He thinks I’m working for him.”
“He’s wrong, and we’re going to correct that. You’re to return to Lodz immediately for reassignment.”
Carmen shook her head again. “Only General Edelman can give me that order.”
“I won’t tolerate loose cannons,” Redman insisted. “Analysis will be centralized in Lodz, and individual assessments in the field will conform to central office guidance. Do you understand?”
“I understand what you said,” Carmen replied, deliberately not adding whether or not she’d comply with the order.
Redman glared at her wordlessly before abruptly ending the call.
As her screen blanked, Carmen sighed and covered her face with one hand, wondering why she didn’t simply quit and go back to Domi.
Someone cleared their throat softly. Carmen looked toward the darkened doorway, hardly lit by the low lights set up in the inner hallways, and saw Captain Devish. “I couldn’t help overhearing,” Devish said.
“Really?” Carmen said, hearing weariness in her voice instead of annoyance. “You mean you couldn’t help overhearing because you stood by that doorway while I talked?”
“Exactly.” Devish walked into the room a couple of steps, lowering himself to sit against the wall opposite Carmen. “What’s going on?”
She thought about how much to tell him, deciding that political games didn’t deserve any protection from her. “That was the head of Kosatka’s new Integrated Intelligence Service. Her name’s Jayne Redman. She got the ear of some people high in the government and got herself appointed to the job.”
“Does she know what she’s doing?”
“Supposedly.” Carmen leaned her head back against the wall behind her, feeling the cold, rough, unfinished neocrete through her hair. “She worked in an office for some big intelligence outfit on Old Earth. Exactly which one I don’t know.”
“You don’t know the outfit or the office she worked in?”
“Neither one. I’m not sure anyone does since when asked Redman always asserts secrecy and nondisclosure agreements that supposedly keep her from providing any details. She claims to be a skilled intelligence operative, but as far as I can tell, her main talent is empire building.”
Captain Devish nodded. “I know the type. She wants to control the whole ship, but you’re rocking the boat.”
“I’m not sure whether you’re mixing metaphors there or not,” Carmen said. “Yeah. Basically. You know what I’ve been telling General Edelman. The enemy forces left in Ani are on their last legs. They’re running low on every kind of supply, they know they’re trapped, and a lot of them are just soldiers for hire, not dedicated fanatics. They’re going to crack soon.”
“I agree with you. But the new central office in Lodz disagrees?”
Carmen shrugged to pretend the dispute didn’t anger her as much as it did. “They think the enemy will keep digging in, improving their hold on the parts of Ani they still occupy, and that the enemy retains the resolve and the means for offensive operations.”
Devish raised both eyebrows in surprise. “That’s not at all what we’re seeing.”
“Thank you!”
“They’re not even staging limited counterattacks. The argument that they’re strong enough to launch big attacks is so obviously wrong, why do you have to fight Redman over the issue? Why not just let her eventually be proven wrong?”
“Because,” Carmen said. She met Devish’s gaze with her own. “If the government believes that assessment, believes that the enemy is capable of holding out for a long time, will only keep improving their defenses, and could counterattack, what will the government order General Edelman to do?”
Devish hesitated, his mouth tightening. “Attack. Not just the constant pressure we’re putting on the enemy, but a major effort.”
“Advancing building by building,” Carmen said. “As fast as we can. Against a desperate enemy. How many more people will we lose?”
“A lot. We don’t have a lot left, but what’s left will be used up fast if we’re forced to make those kind of attacks.” Devish looked around him. “And building by building, more of Ani will get turned into rubble. What are you going to do?”
“Keep telling anyone who’ll listen what I think based on what we’re seeing here.”
“Can that Redman really recall you to Lodz?”
Carmen spread her hands in the age-old gesture of uncertainty. “You know how many things have been improvised to deal with the invasion. Including my exact status and my exact chain of command. Nothing has been written down anywhere saying who I have to listen to.”
Devish grinned. “I wish I could say that. Does the general know what’s going on?”
“I’m telling him what I think,” Carmen repeated. “And I’ve met a few people high in the government, people I got to know when Lochan Nakamura and I first came to Kosatka. I’m letting them see my reports, though technically I’m probably breaking some security rules there.”
“Technically?”
“Probably. I don’t know for sure.”
Another grin from Devish. “And you’re not fool enough to ask. May I offer some advice?”
“Sure. I’m better at listening to advice than I am at listening to orders,” Carmen said.
“Good.” Devish glanced out the doorway. “If I were you, with my status and chain of command a bit blurry, I’d be working to focus things the way I wanted them to be. Before someone else focused things the way they wanted.”
Carmen frowned. “Meaning I should ask the general to formalize my status as working for him?”
“Why is that hard? Word is he respects you.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Carmen felt the reason behind her reluctance, knowing its origins rested far from this world. “One of the lessons I learned on Mars was to stay under the radar of powerful people. Once they knew who I was, they’d try to use me.”
“Maybe not every lesson learned on Mars is applicable to Kosatka,” Devish suggested. “Listen. I’m not giving you this advice out of charity. It’s self-interest. You know what the situation is for our side in this fight. We’ve taken plenty of hits, lost a lot of people, we’re short on everything. Sure, we’re stumbling toward a win, but we’re not that far from collapsing. The only reason we’re winning is because the other guys are worse off than we are. It wouldn’t take much in the way of stupidity to lose this fight. Stupidity like ordering us to charge in and dig out the enemy fast instead of wearing them down. It wouldn’t take much of that to crack what we’ve got left, and then the enemy would have a chance to break out and spread through the unpopulated areas of this continent, where they’d be able to hide and regroup and launch raids. I want the general listening to you, because you listen to people like me, and you know from personal experience what things are like for us and for the enemy.”
“I can understand self-interest,” Carmen said.
“Then factor in your self-interest in as well,” Captain Devish said, his expression grim. “There are rumors going around that the government is planning to get us reinforcements from an untapped reserve. That reserve being previously wounded men and women whose prosthetics or other aids are sufficient to allow them to function on the front lines.”
She stared at him in shock. “That’s crazy. Even if the prosthetics are one hundred percent effective replacements for whatever was lost, it creates a whole set of problems with logistics, with keeping the prosthetics in repair and their power supplies and . . . and that creates problems with shielding the prosthetic materials and energy use from enemy sensors, and . . . and smart prosthetics can be hacked, or rendered useless by EMP weapons . . . and . . . the rumors can’t be true.”
“Can’t they?” Devish ran the tips of his fingers through the dust that had accumulated on the floor. “What do you think? We need warm bodies to carry on the fight. Kosatka is effectively blockaded, so no new immigrants can arrive to help. That means drawing on what’s available. Trained, experienced soldiers. Even if those men and women have already, and literally, given up parts of themselves to the fight.”
“Damn.” Carmen ran one hand through her hair, her thoughts darker than the shadows lurking in the deserted buildings of Ani. “The last time we talked, Dominic told me that he’d been moved up in priority for a new leg. No new invasion fleet sighted, no other explanation, just ‘congratulations, you’ll have the prosthetic a lot sooner than expected.’” Events had just become extremely personal again.
“Surprise,” Devish murmured.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” She tapped a command to bring up a list of addresses. “I’ll take it from here.”
Captain Devish stood up, moving carefully in the limited space available. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
She looked up at him. “What if you get orders to send me under guard to Lodz?”
Devish shrugged. “Orders often get garbled, or misdirected. You know how it is. And I have a lot of other things to be dealing with, as well as no soldiers to spare on some bureaucratic squabble. If it gets to the point where I can’t stall any longer, then you’ll become invisible to me and every soldier in this unit. Sorry, she’s not here. Haven’t seen her. It’s not my problem if Lodz lost one of their volunteers.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not like you haven’t earned it.” Captain Devish sketched a brief salute in her direction before walking out into the hallway and out of sight.
Carmen felt an almost overwhelming urge to do something. Do it now. But she’d felt that before. One of the things that Mars had taught her was that impatient people died.
So she’d be patient. Make preparations. Until it got dark and she could do what needed to be done.
“I’ll be out for a while,” Carmen told Captain Devish.
He glanced at her, taking in her camos and the rifle. “Do you know tonight’s password?”
“Yeah. Holo.”
“Countersign?”
“Wolf,” Carmen said.
“Good,” Devish said. “You’ve got a plan?”
“Of course I have a plan.”
“Good. Try not to get your sorry butt shot off.”
The night wasn’t perfect for what she was doing. Too bright, the stars shining down unhindered by any cloud cover, and too quiet, only the barest breeze drifting along the silent streets. Carmen heard the soft scuttling of small creatures moving through the darkness, and knew any sounds she made would also be too easily heard. Maybe she should wait for another night.
Domi had been moved up in priority for a new leg.
She wouldn’t wait.
The building where Devish’s unit had been staying for the last few days was only half a kilometer from the current front line. In daylight, in peace, it would have required only a few minutes of walking to cover that distance.
But this was night in an unlit city where enemies lurked. She figured that traveling alone and trying to remain unseen it would take her about an hour to safely reach the front.
Carmen had been making slow, patient, and nerve-racking progress for about half an hour when somewhere not far away from her a pebble rattled down a short drop, the last click as it came to rest seeming to echo through the city.
Carmen, one leg raised for another cautious step, froze. She stood, breathing as softly as possible through her mouth, straining her ears for any more sounds. Had it been part of the slow shifting of debris in the empty city? Or had the pebble been dislodged by an insect moving about? A small animal? Or had it been the result of a misstep by larger creatures, of the same species as Carmen, carrying weapons of their own and a lethal intent toward anyone they found?
Even if it was a friendly patrol she’d still be in terrible danger if spotted. This close to the enemy positions, a figure in the dark would be assumed to be one of those enemies. She’d likely be dead before she could speak the password or countersign for the night. And if they were enemies the password wouldn’t do her any good.
She heard nothing else except vague, faint sounds that might be born of her own blood rushing in her veins or the breath coming in and out of her. Her eyes searched the night but saw no sign of movement. The sound of the pebble falling seemed to have paralyzed the entire city. After holding herself motionless for at least half a minute, Carmen slowly lowered her leg, looking down to try to ensure she wasn’t stepping on anything that might make a sound.
Moving with infinite care, she eased closer to the nearest wall, pausing often to listen.
Memories crowded into her mind, distracting her. The darkness, the need for silence, the fear of discovery. How many times on Mars had she hidden in closets or cabinets or small spaces, a young girl waiting to learn if this time she’d be discovered? Once she had been, by a big man who didn’t realize in time that a small girl could be carrying a large knife.
Carmen could almost taste the ever-present red dust of Mars in her mouth as she waited, watching, her weapon ready.
The soft scurry of an animal sounded off to her left.
Carmen dared to relax slightly. If they felt in danger, animals wouldn’t move. If one felt safe enough to scurry, any danger that might have been here had probably passed.
But she still took her time studying her surroundings through the smart scope on her rifle, looking for any traces of danger. A small blob of heat briefly appeared, moving fast and low, as the sound of another small creature running from cover to cover came to her. Otherwise the city once more appeared to be empty and dead.
It took another half an hour of cautiously moving through the night and a succession of vacant buildings before Carmen reached the place she’d been heading for. Intended to be a small store or office, the room faced across a deserted street where similar mixed-use buildings loomed in the dark, stores on the ground floors and apartments above them.
She settled down to one side of a window that hadn’t been blown out or broken. Set against the wall and just above the floor, a thumb-size fiber terminal rested where she’d left it a week before.
Carmen unspooled a connector from her rifle and plugged it into the terminal, also pulling out an earbud that she stuck into one of her ears. Her scope lit up with data, showing that all six bugs she’d planted in rooms across the street were still connected. She sighed with relief. Listening devices that used wireless transmissions were too easily detected these days, so only something linked to a fiber-optic cable and activated only when someone like Carmen plugged in could remain hidden from sweeps for bugs. The transparent threadlike cables were very hard to see even under the best of conditions, but she’d still done as well as she could to hide the cables that ran across the empty street. Fortunately, nothing had cut any of them by accident or design.
The only question left was whether she’d lucked out by bugging a room some of the enemy would be in tonight. Places a little distant from the front line where Kosatka’s defenders faced the invaders could be safely occupied for days and even weeks as long as care was taken not to present external signs of the people within the apparently deserted buildings. But here, where the two sides faced each other, the soldiers on each side would change positions every day or so to avoid having their positions spotted. Carmen had planted her bugs a week ago, choosing offices facing the street that she could tell weren’t occupied, hoping that she’d picked one that would be a temporary enemy position on some future date.
Carmen couldn’t quite suppress a gasp as one of the lines lit up. Conversation. Across the street, some of the enemy were watching for Kosatka’s defenders, and as soldiers often did were whispering among themselves even when standing orders required silence.
“—shot Falchion,” a woman was saying, her voice barely audible even with the enhancements provided by Carmen’s listening gear. She thought the voice might carry the distinctive accent of Reds from the area around Olympus Mons, but couldn’t be sure.
“What’d he do?” a man asked, his own Olymons accent clear enough to confirm Carmen’s suspicions.
“Don’t know.”
“Falchion was an idiot. Didn’t know when to shut up.”
“Yeah.”
A third voice joined in, too faint for Carmen to tell if it was a man or a woman speaking. “Dibs on his share of rations.”
“Rations, hell, I’d have eaten Falchion if they’d left the body.”
“There wasn’t a lot of meat left on him,” the woman said.
“There’s not much left on any of us,” the third person said. “How much longer—”
“Shut up. You want to end up like Falchion?”
“Sooner or later, we’ll all—” The whispered voice cut off abruptly. “Hey. We got a ping.”
Faint rustling sounds probably marked the enemy fighters readying themselves and their weapons. “Where?” the woman asked.
“One of the places we rigged across the street. I’m only seeing one hit, though.”
“A scout? Or point for a patrol?”
“I dunno. It’s not moving. Probably trying to spot us.”
Carmen spent only a single second berating herself for carelessness. Of course the enemy had done the same thing that she had, covertly seeding sensors in some of the places their foes might occupy. They knew she was here, perhaps even where in the room she was.
And if they’d planted sensors here, they might have planted other, more lethal, things as well.
She turned her head slowly, studying the dark-shrouded back of the office, deciding on a path to take. A door hung open invitingly, offering refuge deeper in the building and arousing her suspicions. That was just where she’d put a booby trap, to catch anyone seeking safety. No. The same for the sturdy-looking solid wall to her right. Exactly the place someone would go if they were worried about danger from the street. Carmen raised her rifle enough to examine that wall through the scope, seeing a patch of newer work on that wall where a mini-mine had probably been hidden.
All right, then. Go hard left, past the floor-to-ceiling window where no one in their right mind would seek shelter or expose themselves. They wouldn’t have planted a trap there. Keep on, out into the side alley, and keep running away from the main street.
“How long we gonna wait?” one of the enemy whispered to his companions, the sound ghostly through Carmen’s earbud. “If that one’s point for a patrol, shouldn’t they have shown up by now?”
“They might be targeting us for a strike,” the woman said. “Right now as we’re talking. Why else would they just be sitting there?”
“Yeah,” the third enemy agreed. “Take ’em out now.”
Carmen yanked the rifle cord free from the fiber terminal and leapt into motion, hurling herself to the left past the floor-to-ceiling window, feeling horribly exposed in that moment as the darkened street beyond was briefly visible, nothing between her and the weapons of the enemy but a few layers of insulated glass. She hit the side door to the alley as chaos roared behind her, the force of the explosion at her back hurling Carmen out of the office and into the alley. Scrambling to her feet but staying in a crouch, Carmen ran only a few meters before spotting a blown-out window to her right and leaping through it, landing on a litter of glass fragments inside that building and somehow avoiding any serious cuts.
She got to her feet again, limping slightly as her right ankle protested, pausing for only a moment to check the hallway outside the room before heading down it, away from the street that here marked the front line. Behind her, shots rang out as soldiers from both sides traded fire, but the flurry of action quickly subsided. Neither side could afford to waste ammunition, though at least Kosatka’s forces could still get power packs for pulse weapons.
With at least two blocks between her and the site of her near disaster, Carmen finally stopped in the pitch dark of an inner room, breathing heavily, her heart pounding from exertion and fear. Had it been worth it? She’d only gotten a few words of conversation between the enemy soldiers. Those words supported her own arguments, but having worked with bureaucrats in Earth gov, Carmen knew how Jayne Redman and her new agency would react to them. Fragmentary conversation, open to interpretation, and at best anecdotal data. Something easily dismissed from the lofty perspective of comfortable offices in Lodz.
She’d write it up anyway, and send it to General Edelman’s staff, along with a not-so-veiled plea for the general to formalize her status as someone who worked for him. And hope that worked.
And also hope that Domi never heard about tonight. She’d never hear the end of it from him.
Carmen was woken from a restless sleep by a messenger who said headquarters wanted to talk to her. Trying to blink away drowsiness, she checked the time. Late afternoon. A call from headquarters wasn’t normal. This probably meant that Jayne Redman had already acted on her threats.
She ran her hands through her hair to order it, hastily braided it back, straightened her camos, and after opening her comm pad clicked the callback link.
It took a few minutes before the image of a worn-out-looking colonel appeared on her pad. “Citizen Ochoa,” he greeted her. “I hear you were out collecting intelligence last night.”
“Yes, sir,” Carmen said.
“General Edelman wants me to tell you he values your reporting,” the colonel continued, while Carmen wondered if the apparent praise was the lead-in to bad news. “Are you aware that your security clearances have been pulled?”
“What?” Of course. She should have realized that Redman would do that. “What was the justification?”
The colonel frowned slightly as he read something off to the side. “Unresolved questions regarding past activities in regions of extensive enemy recruitment.”
Carmen gasped a derisive laugh. “Why didn’t they just say they were doing it because I’m from Mars?”
“Because discrimination on the basis of place of origin is illegal under the laws of Kosatka,” the colonel said. “Yeah, that’s obviously what they mean and why they’re doing it, but they can’t say that. The message telling us your clearances had been yanked also directed us to send you back to Lodz by the first available means.”
All of that was what she’d expected. “What is the general going to do?”
“General Edelman doesn’t like getting directives from agencies that are supposed to be supporting him.” The colonel smiled. “And General Edelman is authorized to issue security clearances for anyone he thinks needs access. Normally, that’s for people on his staff. He directed me to issue you a new clearance. Your job description on the clearance is special intelligence support to the field commander, which means you officially work for the general now. Which in turn means he won’t be sending you back to Lodz, because he wants you here. Are you good with that?”
“I’m very good with that.” Carmen let out a relieved breath. “Please thank the general for me.”
“Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
“Do I need to pay attention to directives from the Integrated Intelligence Service?”
The colonel responded with an intrigued look. “Have you been paying attention to those directives up to now?”
“No,” Carmen said.
“Then I will repeat the general’s instructions. Keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
Carmen grinned. “Thank you. I will.”
A couple of hours later, as the sun dipped toward setting and the nocturnal defenders of Ani began rousing themselves for another night of cat and mouse against the invaders, Carmen checked her mail and saw another callback request.
This one was from her former boss Loren Yeresh, so she clicked on it.
Loren answered immediately. He gazed at her with such obvious worry that she shook her head defensively. “I’m fine,” Carmen said.
“You’re fine.” Loren sighed, looking haggard. “Do you have any idea what the atmosphere was like at work today?”
“Work? Did you get sucked into the Integrated Intelligence Service nonsense?”
Loren nodded. He was seated at a desk, and paused to reach and take a drink of what looked like coffee but surely wasn’t. As far as Carmen knew there wasn’t any coffee left in Lodz. “Everybody is getting sucked into it, whether they like it or not.”
“I’m not,” Carmen said.
“No, because you’re Our Lady of Perpetual Chaos,” Loren said. “Have you thought about maybe changing your approach?”
Carmen settled back, fighting her own instinctive resistance to such a question. “Why?”
“Because the goal for all of us is a free and safe Kosatka. If you’re working at IIS, you can influence the analysis and make sure your viewpoints are heard.”
“Are you also forgetting that I worked for Earth gov? That’s the oldest argument in the book,” Carmen said. “That’s how you get coopted. That’s how your voice gets silenced. Because they don’t listen, Loren. You know they don’t. People like Jayne Redman want the perks and the big offices and the ability to tell other people what to do. They don’t want disagreement or initiative or thinking outside the boundaries of the box they’ve built. Tell me I’m wrong, that your experience with this IIS is different than what I think.”
Loren hesitated, frowning.
“You never did lie to me,” Carmen said. “Don’t start now.”
He sighed again. “You know what she’ll do, Carmen. Redman and her loyal followers. They’ll fight you every step of the way, try to discredit everything you say and do, and if you turn out to be right, which you probably are, they’ll then claim credit for that themselves.”
That stung. But Carmen shook her head. “You’re right, and I won’t pretend that doesn’t make me angry, but the alternative is to let them silence me by editing out or changing everything that conflicts with their own, official view of things.”
“Integrated,” Loren said. “It’s not the official view, which implies we’re being told what to say, it’s the integrated view.” He laughed scornfully and took another drink. “Which implies we have real input into the final product.”
“You’re too good to end up like this,” Carmen said. “Has the IIS really sucked up every part of the intelligence collection and analysis biz on Kosatka?”
“Either it already has or soon will,” Loren said.
“Really?”
Loren paused, eyeing her. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that if there’s only one source of intelligence collection and analysis on this world, that places a huge amount of power in the hands of whoever is in charge of that.”
“Sure.” Loren nodded. “I’m sure Jayne Redman has thought of that.”
“Has the First Minister? Has the House of the People’s Representatives?”
This time Loren Yeresh paused for several seconds. “I don’t know. Carmen, people like me can’t just walk into the First Minister’s office and talk about stuff like that.”
“I know First Minister Hofer,” Carmen said. “Remember?”
“Are you . . . ?” Loren exhaled slowly. “Should I know anything more about what you’re going to do?”
“Who said I’m going to do anything?”
“That’s right, you didn’t. You just mentioned someone you knew from when you first arrived on Kosatka.” Loren gave her a level look. “Be careful.”
“Loren, have you heard they might start sending soldiers with prosthetics back to the front?”
He hesitated. “There are rumors.”
“You don’t know anything else?”
“Your clearance was pulled, Carmen.”
“General Edelman gave me a new one,” she told him.
“That’s right. I heard of some very loud, um, discussions about that going on in the IIS front office.” Loren grimaced as if in pain. “Someone in a position to know told me that preparations are being made for mobilizing the so-called combat-capable injured. Supposedly it’s just an emergency plan to be implemented if another invasion force lands. That’s what they’re being told, anyway.”
“Does your someone in a position to know believe that?”
“No, he doesn’t. The need already exists, and too many of the details seem focused on the near future, not on some future contingency.” Loren nodded to her. “Okay. I understand your personal motivation. This isn’t about you or getting credit or kicking Redman in the butt.”
“You know who it’s about,” Carmen said. “Dominic is not going to the front again with a prosthetic if I can stop it. And this single-source control for all intelligence and related activities is not a good idea. It gives too much power to whoever runs that agency. I need to get people to see that.”
“I’m not stupid enough to get in your way,” Loren said, giving her another concerned look. “Be careful,” he repeated. “If you do anything. Which I don’t know anything about.”
After the call ended, Carmen spent a while gazing at the screen of her comm pad, wondering if some of the things being done in the name of preserving Kosatka’s freedom would turn out to be as dangerous to that freedom as the invaders she and the other soldiers were fighting.