Free Alector's Choice by L. E. Modesitt

about his assignment.
    “You may well
understand what is not said, Colonel. I would appreciate that understanding
remaining unspoken, even to your wife.”
    “Yes, Highest.”
    “Good. As Marshal
Shastylt may have told you, the Cadmians will be traveling on the Duarches’
Valor. They will leave Elcien on Septi and arrive in Dramuria no later than the
following Tridi. You will leave on Septi. That should give you enough time to
meet with the local Cadmian majer in Dramuria, the guild heads, and the council
chief in Dramuria—and the director of the mining operation.”
    Dainyl nodded.
    “If there is anything
else, you’ll know. As always, you must behave and act as if the highest of all
alectors are the Duarches.”
    Why was the Highest
mentioning that now? It was an unspoken code, and breaking that code had led to
more than a few alectors’ deaths in the early years. Had someone let the secret
slip? Was that the source of the revolt?
    “Enjoy your time away
from Elcien.” The Highest nodded to dismiss Dainyl.
    The colonel half
bowed, took a pace backward, and gave a last bow before turning and making his
way back to the stairs.
    As he climbed the
steps and crossed the halls, more than a few thoughts swirled through Dainyl’s
mind. From what had been said, and not said, conditions on Ifryn were becoming
even less favorable far earlier than anticipated. Dainyl suspected that the
lifeforce mass there was declining precipitously. That, in turn, meant that the
Duarches of Acorus were being pressed to build lifeforce more quickly. More
coal would have helped, as would more of the fertile bat dung from Dramur.
Instead, there was less of each, and using the pteridons would only draw more
heavily on the world’s reserves. The Highest was planning to use Cadmian lives,
if necessary, to reduce such a drawdown.
    Dainyl would have
preferred to talk over his suspicions with Lystrana, but the Highest might well
learn if he did— and that was not something Dainyl was about to chance, not
after all the tens of years it had taken him to become a colonel of Myrmidons
on Corus—and certainly not after what had befallen the Submarshal.
    He was also aware
that his assignment was a cross between a test and an opportunity and that the
Highest did not wish him to have the advantage of Lystrana’s knowledge and
wisdom.
    He walked down the
stone steps from the Hall of Justice to the waiting duty coach.

12
     
    After muster on Duadi,
Mykel conducted a gear inspection before returning to his study in the
headquarters building. There, he took out the folders he had found
earlier—those of the two rankers in his company from Dramur—Polynt from third
squad and Chelosyr from fifth squad. After taking a last look through the
folders, he wrote up three more of the individual training reports as he waited
for Bhoral and the two rankers.
    Then there was a
knock on the door. “Sir?”
    “Come on in.” Mykel
stacked his papers, stood, and watched as the senior squad leader ushered the
two rankers into the study, closing the door after them.
    Polynt was tall,
angular, blond—and looked even younger than Mykel’s brother Viencet. Chelosyr
wasn’t that much shorter than Polynt, but he was brown-haired, square-faced,
stocky, and muscular, and seemed almost squat in comparison.
    “You both know that
we’re headed to Dramur.” Mykel studied the two.
    Polynt moistened his
lips, while the slightest hint of a smile hid in Chelosyr’s eyes.
    “Your records show
that you’re both from there. Is that right?”
    “Yes, sir.” The
responses were almost simultaneous.
    ‘Tell me about the
mines there.“
    Polynt looked at
Chelosyr.
    The older and more
muscular ranker shrugged, then looked at Mykel. “That’s one reason why I signed
up with the Cadmians, sir. Maybe, it just mighta been me, but always seemed to
me that when they got short of miners, lots of fellows all of a sudden got
caught doing things they said they hadn’t and ended up