“We should have thought of that, Sir,” Regiment-Captain chan Isail agreed in the overly respectful tone he saved for times when his superior was being unreasonable with someone else…or himself. “Except, of course, for the minor fact that while we were planning this entire movement at Fort Emperor Erthain no one expected them to get forward as quickly as they have. I certainly didn’t, and neither did Therahk.” Chan Geraith’s chief of staff nodded in Regiment-Captain chan Kymo’s direction. “Neither did Corps-Captain chan Rowlan or anyone on his staff, now that I think about it.” He shrugged slightly. “We put this entire deployment together so quickly it’s a wonder our organic transport units got forward with us more or less in order, much less any of the QMG’s attachments. For that matter, all the movement arrangements up-chain from here are still a little…chaotic,” he added dryly, and despite himself, chan Geraith snorted at the massive understatement.
“I like Yanusa-Mahrdissa’s suggestions, too, Sir,” Regiment-Captain chan Serahlyk put in. “At the same time, I’d really like to pull out the Hundred and Twenty-Third and take them across to New Ternath. Chan Hurmahl’s going to need all the help he can get.”
“Agreed. But he’s got Yanusa-Mahrdissa’s work crews, not to mention the crews Master Banchu will be moving across. That’s a lot of skilled manpower and equipment, Lyskar, and it’s equally important that we keep the Arcanans’ attention fixed here on Fort Salby. The more dust you and your people kick up preparing for us to either advance from here or go over onto the defensive and dig in as deeply as possible, the better.”
The dark-complexioned engineer didn’t look particularly convinced by the division-captain’s logic, but he didn’t raise any further objection…for the moment, at least. Chan Geraith was prepared to settle for that. Chan Serahlyk’s engineers were occupied very obviously further improving the approach roads to the Traisum Cut. They were also building a truly impressive encampment for the thousands upon thousands of infantry who were clearly en route to Traisum. Only a handful of the Arcanans’ eagle-lions were getting through the portal these days, but a trickle still seeped past the defenders on a semiregular basis. Chan Geraith hoped their masters were enjoying whatever reconnaissance they were bringing back, and he was perfectly happy to use their recon capabilities against them by giving them all sorts of preparatory activity to see right here in Traisum.
And, of course, if his hopefully brilliant flanking maneuver blew up as spectacularly as it had the potential to blow up, they might just end up actually needing all of chan Serahlyk’s preparation work here in Traisum after all.
So far, however, none of the wheels had come off. Or not any that he knew about, at any rate. The delays in Voice transmissions to and from Sharona imposed by the water barriers in Haysam and Reyshar were sufficiently irritating, was one reason he was so profoundly grateful chan Rowlan’s HQ had moved as far forward as Camryn. Bottlenecks in transportation were likely to keep the corps commander in that universe for at least another month or two, unsnarling the endless snafus which were inevitable when such a massive troop movement was undertaken on so little notice. It was unlikely he’d be moving any farther down-chain until at least one of his two infantry divisions could come up, but the Voice chain meant he and chan Geraith were in effective communication. It took only a few hours for messages to be transmitted as far as Camryn, which made it even more frustrating that it had taken the better part of nine days for chan Yahndar’s report from the other side of Traisum’s Vandor Ocean to reach him.
Don’t complain, he told himself sternly. If the Authority hadn’t already brought up and assembled the relay boats it would take a hell of a lot longer than that!
That observation didn’t make the delay a lot more palatable, although he knew he would have been much unhappier if it hadn’t been true. The Portal Authority had shipped forward a half-dozen of its prefabricated small, extremely fast steamships to shuttle Voices back and forth to get them into range of one another. The relay “boats” displaced almost two thousand tons, so they weren’t exactly tiny, but they consisted of remarkably little besides fuel bunkers, boilers, and engines, and those engines were twin-shaft turbines, not the more fuel efficient reciprocating engines TTE’s Voyagers used. That gave them a top speed of almost thirty-five knots in calm sea conditions, but not even that fleetness made the vast, wave-tumbled wilderness of the North Vandor in winter any narrower.
Still, the messages did get through, and chan Yahndar and Yanusa-Mahrdissa seemed to have matters under control. Chan Geraith felt his own nerves itching to move forward to the New Ternath side of the Vandor, but-like chan Rowlan in Camryn-he was far better employed where he was, at least for the moment. It was his responsibility to coordinate the movement of the rest of the 3rd Dragoons to Kelsayr; this was the best place for him to do that coordinating, and there’d be plenty of time to relocate his HQ before young chan Mahsdyr reached Thermyn.
Assuming he does reach Thermyn, of course. And that he doesn’t get spotted after he gets there. And that we’re able to get the rest of the division up to him without being spotted. And that we’re able to pounce on Fort Ghartoun and take it before Harshu reacts. And-
He made himself stop worrying at all the things that could still go wrong like a terrier worrying a dead rat. There wasn’t a thing in the world he could do to prevent any of them from happening, if that was what the gods had decided to allow. So it made a lot more sense to concentrate on getting the parts he could control right and hope that someday history would confirm Sunlord Markan’s diagnosis of “inspired genius.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
January 18
Larakesh City, on the Sharonan side of the portal to New Sharona, wasn’t a place to be. “Being” was too stagnant a verb to describe anything in Larakesh. The portal city in the birth universe of Sharonan civilization was all movement.
Trans-Temporal Express Director Tyamish had offices somewhere in the space between all the rail lines, but Larakesh’s schedule-her beating heart-was in the keeping of her handpicked stationmasters.
The mass of train tracks running in and out both sides of the portal bristled off into dozens of yards with cars waiting for engines and full loads waiting for their timeslots to run hurtling down-portal to New Sharona, Haysam, and beyond. Larakesh the city had given way entirely to the needs of Sharona’s TTE railways, and Port-of-Larakesh extended the massive rail yard of a city out to the Ylani Sea, an ocean port almost as busy as Portal City Center itself. The deadhead trains once sent empty or nearly so down-chain were deadheading no more. Instead, troops assembled and marched aboard transports bound for the outer universes. Supply cars with weaponry, munitions, and food fitted into every available siding, with shunters busy shuffling the cars as needed to keep the portal tracks hot with constant traffic.
Stationmaster Rinlin Torrash all but tore his hair out at the latest request from TTE, and he didn’t have very much hair left to spare.
“Whales now? Whales!” He stabbed a finger at the train priority list. “I have troop transports to work in and supplies! Entire doubleheaded heavy loads to send down-chain, and who is this lady?”
“Cetacean ambassador,” Fadar Shelthara supplied. Shelthara was the current shift freight manager for Larakesh Central, which made him effectively Torrash’s second in command. “Very important woman. Kingdom of Shurkhal’s Cetacean Institute. Skip the request from the simians if you have to, but you probably want to fit in at least a few cars for the whale lady.”