"What idiot puts on a play about their murdered king?" he asked.
Maldar replied, "It gets even worse. King Kaiphranos is loosely based on a Europo-American play by Shakespeare entitled King Lear!"
"I remember that one. I see the problem. Do we have another trans-temporal hitchhiker loose on Aryan-Tanspacific?"
"No, Tortha. It turns out the playwright is none other than one of the missing members of the Kalvan Study Team, Danar Sirna."
"This skirts right up to the border of Paratime contamination, especially if Kalvan gets word of it. What was she thinking? Cross that out-she wasn't thinking. This is why we don't let undergrads take walkabouts out-time. This is a textbook case. What has the Harphax Study Team had to say about it?"
"If the Paratime Commission ever hears about it, there might be problems, sir. I'm the only one here who recognized the text; these University dome-tops are too busy arguing about the relative merits of forced industrialization versus organic industrialization-whatever the Styphon that is! Do you want me to snatch Sirna, or leave her there to cause more trouble? When Lysandros gets wind of what's going on back in Harphax City, he's going to scoot right back home. That'll be good news for Kalvan."
"Have they closed the play?" Tortha asked.
Maldar nodded. "Yes, two performances and Harphax City was convulsed with riots. Of course, by now most of them have forgotten the flash point. There's a new controversy; it seems that former Prince Selestros has had some sort of miraculous religious conversion and is now a faithful worshipper of Allfather Dralm!"
Tortha whistled, then looked around to make sure no one was standing nearby. "That's a real turnabout! This could be a serious problem. The last time we ignored some carpenter's son from Bethlehem, he had created a rift that split Europo-America into a hundred different subsectors and belts."
"I think it's a local phenomenon, sir, but I will check with the Kalvan Control Study Teams to see what they've observed with their Selestros analogs."
"I wonder what brought about this sudden conversion," Tortha said. "Was he influenced by drugs, hypno-mech or was it a vision? This sounds like the kind of spoof you might expect from Hadron Tharn; start up a religious controversy and blame it on Paratime Police meddling."
"I'll have Selestros kidnapped, given some knockout drops and then taken to our secret facility. We'll question him under hypno-mech and see if there's any chance of outtime contamination. If not, we'll release him and bug his quarters with micro-transmitters."
"Good idea, Maldar. But be careful. Now that Selestros has become a public figure again, we don't want to cause any alarm. Make it a nighttime snatch-and-grab and have him back by morning."
"Right, Chief. What about Sirna?"
"Ex-chief, please! Dalla's the current Chief and I wish her well. These days I'm not in a position to give any orders, but Dalla's a long ways away and Verkan is busy. He and Kalvan are off besieging Greffa City-"
"What!"
"I know, Maldar. It's nuts. I don't know what Verkan's doing anymore since he resigned as Chief. He won't open up to me, for Dralm's sake! Although that's nothing new, since he bristles like a porcupine at any mention of his resignation, or just what in Visthargg's Egg he's doing on Kalvan's Time-Line!"
"I can't believe he'd just dump all the Department's problems into Dalla's lap, especially now! He'd better watch it or the Paratime Commission is going to recommend a Bureau of Psych-Hygiene reconditioning session."
"Don't even go there, Maldar! I'm hoping that a few dozen ten-days with Kalvan will show him he's not the only one who's swimming in rough waters. At least, that's what I told Dalla in the last communication ball I sent out."
"Any idea, boss, on what I ought to do with Danar Sirna?"
"How did she get into this mess anyway?"
"The story we've unraveled is that she was picked up by some peasant after the Foundry debacle and dumped off at a Hostigi house of prostitution for a few pieces of silver. It turns out this house, the Gull's Nest, was Captain-General Phidestros' temporary headquarters! You can guess the rest; she became his healer, then his mistress. After Phidestros returned to Greater Beshta, he brought Sirna and the new Great Queen Lavena with him. Then he got hitched in an arranged marriage to Princess Arminta, oldest daughter of the Prince of Argros. She's got a first-class mind, but a face like a horse. Turns out Phidestros is more interested in legitimacy than illegitimacy; he dismisses his mistress and turns into a right solid ruler.
"Sirna, the spurned woman, turns to her new friend, the Great Queen of Hos-Harphax, who doesn't know a soul in Harphax City, and the two become best friends. It's really a great setup for a Paratime Study Team member; you couldn't put something together like this in a hundred years."
"I agree," Tortha said. "She's an inside window into the Royal family of Hos-Harphax. But, Maldar, make sure you keep a close watch on Sirna to make sure she doesn't get into any more trouble. My advice is not to initiate any contact with her at this time; she's too much a novice at undercover work to act as our agent if she thinks we're watching her every move."
"What about the University dome-heads?"
"Don't tell them anything. We want to keep Sirna's miraculous survival as much a secret as she does. Remember, Verkan believed she was one of the leaks on the Royal Foundry Study team. We can't risk word of her reappearance leaking to First Level until we know what she was up to. If we notified the University she was alive, it would be the same as sending a message ball to Yandar Yadd or to the Opposition Party."
"Do you think her survival at the Foundry was planned ahead of time?"
"No, no one could have foreseen the events that took place at the Foundry unless they're clairvoyant. My thinking is we give her lots of room to run and watch where she goes. My guess is she's just somebody's pawn and reacting to events beyond her control."
"Good thinking, boss. Dralm damnit, this is just like old times!"
"You cut that right out! Remember I'm just here in an advisory capacity. Let Dalla make all the tough decisions. At first opportunity, send Chief Hadron a message detailing everything we know about Danar Sirna and what she's doing in Harphax City."
"Right, boss."
"Now, how is Soton's siege of Agrys City going?"
"Slowly, as the Grand Master wasn't able to bring enough guns from Hos-Ktemnos to take down the walls. Agrys City is the richest and largest of the Great Kingdom capitals and has been besieged several times since its founding. The walls are thick and mostly granite. Also, the City is perched on ridges, meaning Soton has to advance uphill, which is a big headache, and eliminates the use of siege towers. At his current rate of progress, it might take him the entire summer to crack the city walls. However, the Host of Styphon's Deliverance did dispatch a large Agrysi sortie party, killing several thousand Agrys soldiers. Once the walls are breached, Soton's veterans will have no trouble taking the city. I don't believe King Demistophon has more than ten thousand men in arms, many of them poorly trained militia."
"What about the League of Dralm?" Tortha asked "Haven't they raised an army yet?"
"Yes, but it's only about twelve thousand men, not enough to defeat Soton's veteran Knights and the three Sacred Squares he brought from Hos-Ktemnos. From what our inside man tells us, they put one of their own princes as commander rather than Captain-General Hestophes. Even if they outnumbered Soton, they'd still have big problems."
"It'll be interesting to see how that plays out. I've got to go, the battle here is heating up," Tortha finished, turning his attention back to the battle.
The Hostigi, having the advantage of large numbers of fireseed weapons, halted and fired their first musket volley, causing the Grefftscharri light cavalry skirmishers significant casualties, many from bucking and out of control horses that were not used to the loud noise of massed gunfire and clouds of foul-smelling fireseed smoke. The survivors recoiled, with most riding off the battlefield either to regroup or desert; it was too early to tell.