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a similar manner. Xylox, in particular, seemed unhappy, and Grimm could see
why; the mage carried a considerable pot-belly before him, which was well
hidden by his habitual, shapeless robes.
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Foster's expression suggested that there was nothing unusual about these
procedures, and Grimm guessed the pilot had visited the compound before.
As Grimm expected, Tordun posed rather more of a problem to clothe; it seemed
that even the largest uniform in the locker was too small for him. The guard
eyed the huge albino and shrugged. While the white-haired man stood naked,
without apparent shame, showing a muscular body with many scars, the soldier
took the albino's robes and inspected them in great detail. After feeling
along each seam and fold, the man appeared satisfied, and he handed the robes
back to the pale-skinned giant without a word. However, he retained Tordun's
battle armour.
The guard appraised his charges once more and nodded.
Grimm wondered for a moment if the man was mute, but the sentry then said,
You'll do."
He led them back into the corridor, where Lieutenant Harman was waiting with
Drex, who now wore a green outfit like her stern duenna's. The Grivense girl's
hair was tied back in a long queue, and her lower legs were now on display
beneath the knee-length skirt. Although red and blistered, Grimm saw that they
were well-proportioned, and of a pleasing form. He tried not to stare, despite
the fact that Drexelica did not appear in the least ashamed to have her lower
legs on display.
The male guard and the female officer exchanged their ritual salutes, and the
lieutenant turned to her charges.
"The General is only to be addressed by his rank, or by the honorific,
Sir', she said, as if reciting a familiar litany. Keep your mouths shut
unless you are asked a direct question or otherwise given explicit permission
to speak. Maintain a respectful distance from the General at all times. Is
that understood?"
"Understood! Foster snapped, and Grimm and his companions either nodded or
otherwise acknowledged Harman's terse instructions.
"This way, please, the female officer said, despite the fact that there was
only one obvious route. She led the group to the end of the corridor, where
Grimm saw a metal door with a panel of illuminated, numbered cartouches, like
those he had seen at Haven.
"Please turn around, the lieutenant said, and her charges complied. Grimm
heard a series of strange bleeps, and the now-familiar hiss of a sliding door.
"Go in."
Lieutenant Harman would benefit from a series of Magemaster Faffel's lessons
in Courtly Graces, thought Grimm.Even she'd crumble after a few sessions with
that crabbed old bastard.
The party walked into a tiny room with a single entrance, and Grimm wondered
if they were to be imprisoned in this metal cell, but the stern woman followed
them into the small chamber, as the door slid closed.
He saw another of the glowing panels on the far wall, and Harman pushed a
number at the top of it. Grimm felt a brief moment of vertiginous panic as his
stomach seemed to fall to the level of his feet, and he realised that the
whole room must be accelerating upwards. From the shocked expressions of all
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his companions except Xylox, the young mage knew they felt no more sanguine
than he about the alien experience.
As the chamber rose, the numbers on the panel turned red in numeric sequence
until the top cartouche was lit, and Grimm's stomach returned to its customary
position. The door hissed open, and the Questor felt no surprise to see a pair
of sentries waiting outside, weapons at the ready; the General seemed to treat
his personal security with the utmost seriousness. Harman stepped from the
small room, and the guards stood aside.
"This way. The lieutenant strode down a short corridor and the group
followed her. Grimm did not need to turn around to know that the armed
sentries eyes and weapons were trained on them at every step.
To Grimm's surprise, the door at the end of the passageway was an ordinary,
if ornate, wooden portal with heavy hinges, and Harman gave it a firm rap with
her balled fist.
"Enter. The voice was deep and rich; the green-clad woman opened the door in
a fluid movement.
The General's chamber was opulent, oak-panelled and fitted with a heavy,
deep-blue carpet. Polished brass sconces threw a warm, golden glow onto the
high ceiling, and Grimm, ever the bibliophile, gaped at the impressive
collection of books arrayed around the panelled walls. A mahogany desk, the
size of a small boat, commanded the centre of the room, behind which sat an
imposing-looking man.
The General had a lined, leathery face, a map of a human life made flesh, and
an ugly scar marred his right cheek. He was bald, and his uniform seemed
little more ornate than those of the sentries outside the door; despite the
officer's impressive, forbidding appearance, Grimm felt surprised to see lines
betokening humour around the margins of the military man's ice-blue eyes and
his mouth.
Harman clicked her heels, standing ramrod-straight. She presented a crisp
salute, which the General returned in a languid, almost bored, manner.
"New intake from Haven, Sir! the female officer said.
"Thank you, Lieutenant, Quelgrum said. That will be all for now."
Harman clicked her heels again and exited the room.
"Please excuse Lieutenant Harman's manner, the General said in a
surprisingly warm manner. She's a very efficient officer, and I don't know
what I'd do without her; she has a most retentive memory for facts and faces.
However, she can be a little overbearing at times, I know.
"Mr. Foster; I believe we've met before, the soldier said in an amicable
tone, rising to his feet and extending his hand. He was not a tall man, but
his presence seemed to fill the room.
"That's right, Sir, the pilot said, his eyes aglow, taking the General's
hand and pumping it in with enthusiasm. That was three years ago, when I took
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