The King's Knights

Chapter Twenty-Three: Report Making

Tef Lock had never seen a spaceship before today.

Her earliest and most advanced memories were of the lab facility where she'd been trained. She'd been instructed in various languages and tested in multiple techniques. But she didn't remember her transport to Kadan or through the portal to Artulkan.

So, watching Bastille fiddle with the machine was attractive to her. Tef had always had an interest in devices when she could get them. Clockwork in particular. Learning about how the fleets operated from the perspective of an enemy was valuable.

Nobody had kept Tef informed on these things.

"One, two, three..." Bastille, typing a button as she squatted down over a computer console. The position drew attention to her rather skintight attire. Tef wondered if this was standard issue Judge Knight uniform. "Done.

"As of now, I have finished transmitting your reports to our area of operations on Taurus. As well as to Master Atraya on Falcov, just in case they don't go through.

"Sometimes the psychic lanes become unstable over long distances."

"You typed these up quickly," said Tef, who had seen some typing machines.

"I have a scanner in my ship," said Bastille. "You're not the first person who has written documents we need to transmit. I send in images of each page. They'll be able to decrypt them on the other end."

Tef felt the aggressive feeling going through her. Looking at Bastille made her very, very angry for some reason. "Well, it's about time somebody read them.

"I swear, if I have to send one more report to the desk of that witch Lazula while she pretends to read them, I'm going to defect."

"Yes, about that," said Bastille, shutting down the machine. "Tef, I am concerned for you. You seem to maintain a very different manner when we are alone to when you are in public."

"Bastille, no one is exactly who they appear on the surface," said Tef. "You aren't going to get an honest answer. Besides, if you have to say something out loud, it devalues it. The more you say it, the less it means."

"If you never say it at all, it might never mean anything," noted Bastille.

"Look, let's just get to the temple," said Tef, removing a comb for her hair.

"Thank you," said Bastille.

Tef turned and led Bastille back from the ship along familiar paths. The gates were open in the midday sun. Tef wondered how Bastille meant keeping her ship from being taken apart by the first band of dwarves. Some dwarves could do it, and elves could catch the cloaking field.

Well, that wasn't Tef's business.

The temple was there.

"Excuse me!" said Tef, smiling at the guard.

"Hold where you are," said the guard. "Identify yourself."

"I know that girl," said another. "She's that catgirl always running errands for the church."

Tef straightened her hair and moved in a way people found cute. "I'm Tef Lock.

"With me is a representative of the Demoration, Bastille. She begs an audience with High King Relma to account for the actions of her government citizens."

Did Tef count as a citizen?

Well, she was the ambassador or no one at this point. Nobody else was available.

"You're expected," said the guard. "Right this way."

And he led Bastille and Tef up the steps.

Tef was surprised at being expected. She wondered if Duke Vanion had observed her somehow or guessed her mind. He was among the first to acknowledge how good she was at her job. William and Felix knew, of course, but they didn't mention it because they weren't sure she knew they knew.