“Clean it up and get out!” He felt angry enough to demand her life. But . . . then he would just have to elevate another incompetent in her place, who would certainly be no better and quite possibly worse.
She bent over the mess, picking up the coals with bare fingers and returning them to the metal bowl. He straightened his harness, while she worked, adjusted the trousers, considering.
If Aille succeeded quickly in Salem, having taken full responsibility for the campaign in such a dramatic public fashion, it would redound to Pluthrak’s credit and not Narvo’s. It was for that very reason that Oppuk had insisted on a hastily planned and organized attack, overriding the young Pluthrak’s sensible caution.
But perhaps he was being unduly concerned, Oppuk reminded himself. The quiet that had fallen over the battlefield might have an even simpler explanation: the Pluthrak’s assault had been driven back from the human city. Perhaps Aille would be so shamed by this very public failure, he would offer his life as recompense.
If so, Oppuk would accept it.
* * *
Tully approached Kralik. “Do you want me to get you some medical attention, sir? Or take you to the medical compound?”
Kralik looked up at him wearily. Obviously, the general hadn’t gotten any sleep either, and he was a good fifteen years older than Tully.
“I’ve already sent for a medic, but thanks. It’s just a scratch.” Kralik’s lips quirked. “You look a little done in yourself. How’s Aguilera and the old guy? And did you ever find out his name?”
“Jesse James, probably,” Tully snorted. “No, sir. But I didn’t ask. That way—uh—”
The general’s smile widened. “That way, if the Jao change their minds, you can claim you don’t know who the masked stranger was and he musta hobbled off thataway.”
“Uh. Yes, sir.”
The general patted the log next to him. “Have a seat, Tully.”
Tully was already regretting the impulse that had led him to ask Kralik if he needed medical attention. The general was a good enough guy, sure, but he was still a jinau general. But, there was no way to refuse.
Gingerly, he took a seat. Kralik studied him for a moment with those disconcertingly calm gray eyes. Then said softly:
“Give me a name, Tully. And don’t try to lie.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“And don’t act stupid. You’re not ‘sympathetic’ to the Resistance, you’re part of it. I want to know which part.”
Tully glanced at Aille and Yaut, who were some distance away.
“No, I haven’t told him,” said Kralik. “I’m sure Aguilera hasn’t either, just like I’m sure Aguilera’s figured it out too. For that matter, I doubt if Belk told, even though Belk knows and he hates your guts.”
Belk was the one who’d called him a “weasel,” which was the term diehard collaborators used for members of the Resistance. Tully hadn’t seen much of Belk since the day he’d had the locator fastened to his wrist. Whatever Aille was doing with that member of his personal service, Belk’s duties kept him elsewhere.
“Why does he hate my guts, sir?” He rubbed his wrist. “I never even met the guy before he showed up with this damn thing.”
“Well, look at it from his point of view, Tully. He came back from the fighting twenty years ago—he’d been in the Navy—to discover that a crowd of ‘patriots’ in his home town had gone on a rampage, looking for ‘alien-loving collaborators.’ For some reason or another, they picked his family as a target. He thinks it was because of an old grudge between his wife and another woman. Whatever the reason, they were all hung. His two kids along with his wife. The girl was seven years old, his son was nine.”
Tully winced. “Jesus. Where did that happen?”
“Texas. Amarillo, to be precise.”
“Those assholes. North Texas is the territory of—well, never mind names. But I think that so-called Resistance group there is working for the fuzzies. The shit they pull couldn’t be designed better to piss people off. That’s what Wiley thinks too.”
“Wiley? Rob Wiley?”
Tully scowled. “No names. Uh, sir.”
Kralik looked away. “I knew Wiley was in the Resistance. High up, of course, with his experience and training. And he’s somewhere in the Rockies, which fits your background. Yes, I checked.” His eyes came back to Tully. “Just so you know, Lieutenant Colonel Rob Wiley was my battalion commander during the conquest. One hell of a fine officer. Give him my regards, will you, if and when you see him again.”