“We shouldn’t.” MacRobert stopped two steps down. “First, it’s bad practice to go outside the military supply chain. Second, Chef won’t be pleased.”
“Chef will be less pleased if half the faculty start writhing in agony, or drop dead six hours later.”
“You need to talk to him. His name’s Ilan Volud. Ask him to take care of it and not poison your guests or you.”
Ky counted to ten, silently, then nodded. “All right. Right after this.”
The meeting with house staff did not take long: introductions, shaking hands, showing appreciation. She’d done that in many meetings on many planets by now. Everyone looked worried and tense at first, and less so when she had worked through the line, inputting faces and names into her implant, along with any personal information they shared. Somewhat over half were former military themselves.
When it was done, she noticed that Ilan Volud, the chef, sent his kitchen staff on and stayed behind. “Commandant—you will have heard two of my people are missing.”
“Yes. Are you concerned that they might have a reason to tamper with supplies?”
“I wasn’t thinking about that until MacRobert asked me. I can’t believe that Cerise or Eran would… but after they found the van and he wasn’t there—” He shook his head. “I don’t think they did. I can’t imagine why they would.”
“Remember, my family was nearly wiped out six or seven years ago,” Ky said. “People tried to assassinate me in more than one system. My aunt, the Rector, has been attacked, and so has my remaining cousin.”
“I knew about the bombings,” Volud said. “But not that you’d been targeted other places. Come see—”
The kitchen reminded her of the kitchen in Miksland—spacious, spare, industrial. Volud showed her around, introduced her to the remaining kitchen staff again. “This is what I chose for the reception.” He handed her a menu. Cookies, finger sandwiches, small pastries, trays of raw vegetables. “A dozen of each kind; two dozen of those that are favorites.”
“When did the missing two leave?” Ky asked.
“About five minutes into the morning shift, Colonel Stornaki called to cancel the breakfast order for the Commandant—I mean, General Kvannis—and prepare for a reception for the faculty. He was sure the department would send an interim replacement today, and even if they didn’t, the faculty would have to meet and decide what to do. So I started at once on the pastry and cookie dough, and started the juniors prepping the vegetable platters.”
She hadn’t been asked until after that, so Stornaki could not have known who it would be. “When did you find out who the new person would be?”
“About nine, nine thirty. Cerise left for the supply run about then, as usual, and Eran checked out through the gate at nine forty-five.”
Ky nodded. “Then I think the food’s probably safe, Chef. You’d made the dough before anyone knew who was coming, and—if those two are bent—they left as soon as they heard.”
“Probably isn’t good enough,” Volud said, frowning. “I don’t want to take chances. Would you authorize a onetime use of commercial sources?”
“You mean like using prebaked items from a grocery store bakery or specialty bakery?”
“Yes, Commandant,” Volud said. “There’s simply not time to run everything through a full analysis and have it ready for the reception. Modern poisons are too numerous and complex—”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Ky said judiciously. “And if you can store the foods that might have been contaminated, you can send samples for analysis. If they’re fine they can be used later.”
“Yes, Commandant. That’s exactly what I propose.” His face had relaxed a little. “I don’t suppose the Commandant has a favorite store—?”
“As a matter of fact,” Ky said, “my aunt and cousin swear by Minelli & Krimp on Pickamble Street, and I can attest to the quality of their bakery.”
His eyes lit up. “I know that store. I will contact them immediately. And—while you’re here—your orders for dinner this evening? And your preferences for breakfast?”
It took only a few minutes to answer his questions, then, as Ky confessed she had missed breakfast and lunch except for the snacks in the guest suite, she escaped upstairs to her temporary quarters with a ham sandwich, having refused soup on the grounds it might make her more sleepy. Staff were in the process of moving her things to what had been Kvannis’s suite, now that forensics was through with it. They were skilled, and it wasn’t long before she was able to shut the door on everyone outside and allow herself to flop into one of the big leather club chairs around a low round table and set the mug down. “I could sleep in this,” she muttered aloud. “But I’d better not.” She looked at the desk off to one side. On it were three color-coded comunits: green, yellow, and red. She willed them not to ring, but got up again, sandwich in hand, and went to explore the other rooms in the suite.
In the bedroom, she faced a huge bed with a massive carved-wood frame; the headboard included the seals of all the branches in the Defense Department, in high relief, in the same left-to-right order as on the Commandant’s insignia on her shoulders. The pointy end of the old-fashioned spaceship in the Spaceforce logo stuck out at least five centimeters. From the rub-marks on the other side, generations of Commandants had decided to sleep on the other side of the bed—the carved waves under the Sea Forces ship had blurred just a little—rather than risk spiking themselves on the head. She shouldn’t—but she lay down, just for a moment.
The yellow comunit on the bedside table let out a loud buzz before her eyes could close.
“At least it wasn’t the red one,” Ky muttered, heaving herself out of the bed before she answered.
“Commandant, this is Major Osinery, in the Academy’s Public Affairs office. I was at your address to the cadets—excellent job—but didn’t meet you as I was supervising the recording.”
Recording? They’d been recording it? Of course they would, she realized after a moment of shock.
“The thing is, Commandant, something has come up that—that the Commandant needs to be aware of. I don’t suppose you’re watching the midafternoon news break—”
“No, I wasn’t,” Ky said, just barely managing not to say It’s my first day I just found out this morning I’d have this job do you really think I have time to sit around watching the midafternoon news all in one breath.
“There’s something on now, if you could just spare ten minutes or so, that has generated requests for an interview with you, and we will need at least a half hour to brief you—”
“Perhaps you could just tell me what it is,” Ky said.
“I’m not sure that’s—could you just come to our office in Old Main for a conference?”
“No, that’s impossible,” Ky said. “As you can imagine, the sudden and unexpected departure of the previous Commandant has left a lot of loose ends, which I’m busy dealing with. Also, I don’t have a full uniform set yet; that’s supposed to be delivered tomorrow.”
“But you had on a uniform at the—”
“Yes, but it was hastily altered from an AirDefense dress uniform at the base. For any formal interview, I should be wearing a uniform that is perfect in every detail, don’t you think?”
“Oh. Yes. Yes, of course, Commandant. I thought they would have told you sooner—”
“Kvannis only ran off last night,” Ky said. “No one expected that. I didn’t know about this assignment until this morning. I suggest you offer a written statement from your office, to the effect that because of the suddenness of the former Commandant’s departure, and the unexpected nature of the appointment, Commandant Vatta is extremely busy sorting out—I suppose we shouldn’t say the mess Kvannis left but that’s what the statement should mean, in whatever tactful language you want to use. Commandant Vatta is committed to the Academy and its mission, and to the welfare of all cadets in training.”