COMMANDER OF AGENTS was not one to allow the natural losses of warfare to overly dismay him. It was understood that there would be casualties—even, many casualties—as the Plan unfolded and the Department met with the resistance of small minds and imbedded interests. Thus, while he did not view his losses lightly, the Commander was able to maintain the dispassion necessary to ultimate success in those instances when the Department was momentarily thwarted.
The loss of a ship of the Department and four full Agents of Change on the planet Lytaxin—that was a different matter entirely. Very nearly, in fact, could the Commander be said to be—angry.
The ship had reported Val Con yos'Phelium on-board some time after the fourth Agent's implanted monitor went off-line. The ship itself had exploded some few minutes after lift-off. Commander of Agents was not so naive as to believe that Val Con yos'Phelium had died with the vessel.
So: Four Agents, lost on Lytaxin. One Agent, lost on Interdicted World I-2796-893-44, his ship captured and then destroyed. Three more Agents lost to the bitch half-breed . . .
Lost thus far: eight Agents and two ships. And what profit did the Department show from so great and widespread an expenditure?
Sand and ashes. Val Con yos'Phelium remained at liberty; Anthora yos'Galan slept secure behind the formidable walls of Jelaza Kazone.
Commander of Agents rose from behind his desk. He paced his office from end to end and side to side. At the beginning of his fourth pass, he checked, and deliberately called to mind the calming exercise he had first been taught as an Agent-in-Training, many years ago.
Slowly, he brought his heartbeat down, normalized his breathing, bled off the unneeded adrenaline. When he had done, he stood yet another few heartbeats, eyes closed; meditative.
Eventually, he opened his eyes and returned to his desk, ordered the hardcopy which he had in his agitation flung down, and set it to one side while he accessed his screen.
Alas, that ill news stalked the hour, the latest in the form of a memorandum from the financial department chair. Another of the Department's bleed-off funds had been uncovered, the program destroyed by the Masters of the Accountants Guild.
Commander of Agents flicked through the report, until he found the name of the Master in charge of the investigation.
dea'Gauss.
Very softly, Commander of Agents sighed.
dea'Gauss. Korval's man of business.
Commander of Agents extended an arm and touched the switch on his console.
"Commander?" His second's voice betrayed an edge of startlement.
"That matter we wished to place before the Council of Clans."
"Yes, Commander. We have been awaiting the most appropriate moment."
"So we had. I advise you that the moment has arrived."
"Yes, Commander."
"On another matter—I will wish to meet with a squad leader in . . . " He glanced over at the chronometered wall. "In fifteen Standard minutes, in the Level A meeting room. That is all."
"Yes, Commander." The connection light went out.