“Okay,” Rachel said. “Can do. As long as I’ve got the personnel and funding.”
“You’ll have the funding if I have to go to the damned capitol and squeeze; personnel you’re probably going to have to make yourself,” Edmund replied. “And you won’t be in charge, you’ll be my eyes and ears. If you have suggestions and can get them implemented there, do so. If you have real problems, report it to Daneh. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Okay, now let’s all get shit faced,” Edmund said, draining his drink and waving it at the waiter.
“What if there are more assassins?” Daneh asked.
“Honey, when we walk back to the quarters we’re going to be surrounded by a platoon of marines,” Edmund replied. “Chansa may be able to get my drunk ass under those conditions, but he’s by God going to have to work for it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Herzer wasn’t sure whether he was supporting Van Krief or she was supporting him when they got to his room. But he did know that it was a bad thing that both of them were there.
It had been an evening for learning. He’d learned that Destrang and Tao were light-weights. He’d learned that Daneh hiccupped when she got drunk. He’d learned that Rachel just went to sleep. He’d learned that Van Krief had a hollow leg and a great singing voice. At least, it sounded great when he was drunk. And she knew some really good songs, not all of them fit for polite company.
To no one’s surprise, Edmund knew more. But Herzer had been surprised that he also sang better. He’d never pictured Edmund as a singer, before. Bellower, yes, singer, no. Herzer had learned so much.
But he still had the problem of the door. And nothing that he learned was helping.
“Am I holding you up, or are you holding me up?” Herzer enunciated carefully.
“I think…” Van Krief said, crinkling her brow. “I think we’re holding each other up.”
“Me too,” Herzer said. If they were holding each other up, then they could only make it to one bedroom. That was bad.
“This is bad,” he muttered.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Van Krief giggled.
“This is a really bad idea,” Herzer said, opening the door. “Really bad. I’ll just… sleep on the floor or something.”
“I don’t think so,” Van Krief repeated, giggling again. She stumbled away from him, kicked the door closed, stumbled again, and pulled her tunic off. “What do you think of that?”
“What?” Herzer asked, looking at the floor. It looked… really uncomfortable.
“These!” Van Krief said, pulling at a couple of buttons on her shirt and then giving up and ripping it open. “These!” she said again, pointing at her breasts.
“Pink nipples,” he muttered, getting on his knees and kneeing over to her until he could lay his cheek on her midriff. “How much worse could it get?” He had just kissed her on the stomach when there was a knock on the door.
“Okay, this is worse,” he said, pulling himself up with a hand on the bedstead.
Van Krief had fumbled her tunic on but the torn shirt was impossible to conceal. Herzer looked at her and shrugged as he opened the door.
“Herzer?” Rachel said, supporting herself on the doorframe. “Do you have a private bathroom?”
“Yes,” Herzer said.
“Good, I’m going to be sick in it,” Rachel replied, sliding off the doorframe and skidding to a halt when she saw Van Krief.
“Oh,” Rachel said, her eyes blinking furiously.
“We were just dis-ss-cussing…” Van Krief slurred.
“We were just discussing not having sex,” Herzer continued, clapping his hand over the ensign’s mouth. “Now the young ensign, who is also my subordinate, is going to support herself on the wall until she gets to her room, and her chaste bed, and I’m going to collapse into a drunken stupor. And you’re going to go throw up.”
At least that’s what he’d meant to say. What came out was:
“Wubaa, ubba, nooob…”
At which point the many, many shots of rum finally kicked in and gravity took over.
When Herzer opened his eyes the first thing he knew, with awful clarity, was that he was not in bed alone.
He remembered, too clearly, the night before. Right up to the point that both Rachel and Van Krief were in his room. Especially the point when Rachel and Van Krief had been in his room.
And now there was someone in his bed.
Rachel… now Rachel wouldn’t be bad. Rachel he could live with. He’d be surprised, but not unpleased. But since he would be surprised, given that her interest in him as male seemed to be zero, it was much more likely to be Van Krief. And that would be… bad. He tried not to groan as he thought of the night before. He couldn’t run away and join the Legion, he was already in it. Maybe start up a farm, find a rock to crawl under. This was a court-martial offense, damnit! He’d just tossed PO Lenice to the metaphorical wolves for less.
And he couldn’t even remember doing anything!
In fact, even given his full bladder, he suspected from signs that he hadn’t done anything. Not that it would matter.
Shit. Time to find out if he’d have a pissed-off boss or a very pissed-off boss.
“Hi, lover,” Bast said as he rolled over.
“Bast, not that I’m not glad to see you…” Herzer said as he came out of the bathroom. He clutched his head and groaned, before going on. “But… how did you get in here? This place is supposed to be surrounded by guards.”
“Am I not Bast?” the wood elf said, sliding out of the bed. The elf was barely a meter and a quarter tall and perfectly formed with long, curly, raven-black hair, high, firm breasts and a body that was toned but not, apparently, muscular. She was naked, her standard garment, winter and summer, of a leather bikini on the floor by the bed. She had the body of a fourteen-year-old, and often the personality, but Herzer knew she was over a thousand years old.
“Am I not the greatest sneak in the world? Do you think your simpleton marines can stop me?”
Elves had been created at the dawn of the age of the Net as super-soldiers by the North American Union. Although they looked mostly human, they were not Changed humans but an entirely different species. At the time of the Fall the majority of them lived in a separated dimension called Elfheim. The sundering from humans had occurred around the time of the AI wars, when it became obvious that two sentient species were not going to be able to coexist on earth. The wood elves had been created at about the same time as soldiers for the Nissei Corporation. At least, Bast was. If there were any other wood elves in existence, Herzer hadn’t heard of them. He and Bast had been on and off lovers since shortly after the Fall.
“No,” Herzer said, sitting down on the bed and clutching his head. “I don’t suppose you have any aspirin?”
“Have I not told you to take aspirin before you go to bed?” she asked, bringing him a glass of water and a pill. “And a big drink of water. Of course, when I got here Rachel was being sick in your bathroom, you were passed out on a floor and a half-naked ensign was passed out on top of you. So this once, I forgive you.”