Free Downtime by Cynthia Felice Page A

by
refinishing with a laser-saw, which Marmion had recommended, and Jason duly
initialed each item.
    Marmion
came out of the bathroom with his uniform bundled under his arm. He filled
Jason’s fatigues to their limits, but actually looked good in ranger-green. He
no longer reeked of esters, but there was still a trace coming from the bundle
of clothes. Jason gave him a synthetic sack to put them in.
    “Not
a very auspicious beginning,” Marmion said, sealing the sack. He looked at
Jason. “I can imagine what you’re thinking of me as a second. But I’m grateful
for your help and that you didn’t let me go around smelling like a fool before
all your rangers, at least no more than I already had.”
    Jason
nodded. The laugh the rangers would have had at the expense of a Praetorian
guard chief had tempted Jason only briefly. It wasn’t worth alienating someone
Calla had called “a good man,” especially a good man who would also be his
second, even if not second by choice. He wondered if Calla had told Marmion
enough about him for Marmion to know that if given this same opportunity to
humiliate a high-ranking Praetorian, the man Calla had known thirty years ago
wouldn’t have hesitated.
    “I’ll
just take the reports now, sir . . .”
    Jason
realized he’d been staring at Marmion. “Not yet,” he said quickly. “Sit down
for a minute and tell me how you plan to hold down two jobs.”
    “Yes,
sir.” He waited for Jason to seat himself first.
    “Thank
you, sir.”
    “My
people usually call me Jason, unless I’m angry.”
    “Yes . . .
Jason,” Marmion said, looking relieved. “Commander Calla’s orders are quite
specific. I’m to provide coordination between the two groups and act as liaison
as necessary.”
    “Why
did she think a go-between would be necessary? She outranks me, is known for
her directness.”
    “Commander
Calla can rattle off more orders in one breath than most people can think of in
a day. I’m sure she didn’t want the ranger-governor having to spend most of his
time carrying them out, especially those that are routine. This is an unusual
circumstance; a formal liaison such as myself is also well-placed to notice any
friction that could arise between the two groups.”
    “The
natural friction that happens when snobs and slobs rub shoulders?” Jason said.
    “Well,
I wouldn’t have put it quite that way.”
    “I’ll
bet Calla did. And everything you say makes sense, except for knowing that
Calla’s behind it. She wouldn’t tolerate the snob-slob petty antics, and it
would stop instantly. She never needed a go-between to make her wishes known.”
Jason leaned back in his chair. “No, either you’re second because I’m no more
than a figurehead, or because she didn’t want to deal with me herself.”
    Marmion
frowned. “You’re not just a figurehead.” He hesitated. “If I may speak frankly . . .
Jason?”
    Jason
nodded, wondered if he really would.
    “I
gathered that Commander Calla and you knew one another long ago. The
relationship was, I believe . . . close. I think I’m here in this specific position
to save either of you possible  . . . pain.”
    “I
expected you to say embarrassment,” Jason said, feeling bemused.
    “She’s
not easily embarrassed,” Marmion said. “She’s far too thick-skinned for that,
and I think she likes being a wise old woman.”
    “Proud
of it, I imagine.”
    “I
can tell you knew her quite well.” Marmion grinned openly, and there was
nothing in his tone to indicate he was faulting Calla’s pride. Jason was
beginning to like Marmion. Then Marmion’s smile disappeared and he cleared his
throat. “I risk overstepping, but pride and thick skin aside, she has limits. I
don’t think she wanted to test them, nor yours.”
    Barriers.
First of time and distance, then her gold worlds of rank. Now human ones. Jason
shook his head. He wondered if she really believed he’d respect any of them but
the gold. “Thanks for