Maximus nodded his head upward in affirmation.
“Do you understand?” Perennius shouted.
Gaius stepped between the two men. “Say yessir, you damned fool!” he snapped to the guard. “And you better mean it, because he does. Aulus,” he added, turning to Perennius, “you back off, he’s not worth it.”
“The gods know that’s true,” Perennius muttered. He gripped Gaius’ shoulder for support and took a shuddering breath.
“Yessir,” said the guard. He could not believe what was happening. He had just enough intellectual control to suppress the desire to grasp his sword hilt. This couldn’t be happening!
Still touching Gaius, though the support needed was no longer physical, Perennius retrieved his orders from the other guard. “Sorry,” he said to the mail-clad man, “but if I don’t cure him, who in blazes will?” He thrust the diploma into his wallet and began to unbuckle his equipment belt. Gaius stepped back and wiped his forehead with the inner hem of his cloak.
“Ah, that’s right, sir,” said the older guard as Perennius loosed his shoulder strap, then the waist buckle itself. “We’ll return your weapons to you when you leave.”
“Sure, couldn’t have me going berserk in Bureau Headquarters, could we?” said the agent with the only smile among the four men. His wallet and purse were hung from a separate, much lighter belt. That saved him the problem of unfastening the hook-mounted scabbards when he disarmed, or handing the sword and dagger over bare to be dulled when somebody inevitably dropped them.
“Ah, sir,” the guard added tentatively, “the pass is for you alone.”
Everyone paused. Perennius laughed abruptly. Maximus flinched away from the sound.
The agent was amused, however. He was not just going through some prelude to the murderous frenzy about which he had joked. Perennius had intended to carry his protege in to see Navigatus. It would be good for Gaius’ career, especially if the emergency summons meant the Director might need Perennius’ gratitude. Under normal circumstances, the agent could have squared the guards easily enough and taken Gaius into the building. He did not see any practical way of doing that now that he had thrown a wholly unnecessary scene. The guards might be willing to compromise – Maximus looked both confused and terrified – but Perennius’ own sense of propriety would not permit him to openly proclaim himself an idiot.
“You know,” the agent said as he gave his sword and dagger to the younger guard, “there’s times that even I think I’ve been on the job too long. The only problem is that when I go on leave, I get wound up even tighter.” He grinned and added, “Don’t know what the cure is.” But he did know, they all knew that death was the cure for men in whom frustration and violence mounted higher and higher.
“Well, I’ll wait out here,” Gaius said. He was a good kid, prideful but not ambitious enough for his own good. It had probably not occurred to him that he was missing the chance of a real career boost. “Or look, there’s a tavern right there – ” he thumbed toward the end of the court. “Look me up when you’re done with your interview.”
Perennius glanced first at the westering sun, then back to the younger man. Everybody in a cathouse this close to Headquarters was probably an informer or a spy in addition to their other duties. Gaius was the friendly sort who tended to be loose-lipped when he had a cup or two in him or was dipping his wick. Perennius could not imagine that such talk would do any intrinsic harm, but it would get back to the Bureau for sure and Internal Security would drop on the kid like an obelisk. “Look,” the veteran agent said, “why don’t you head straight to the Transient Barracks and make sure they’ve assigned us decent accommodations. There’s a nice bath attached to the barracks. I’ll meet you there, soon as I can – and there’s shops in the bathhouse, better wine than they’ll serve around here.”
Gaius shrugged. “Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll catch you there.” The glance he cast over his shoulder as he walked off was from concern over Perennius, not because the older man was manipulating him.