Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(37)
An old man sat behind it.
He watched as the four of them snapped to attention, and as he stared at them, Jess revised his judgment. The High Commander wasn’t that old; his hair had gone a glossy gray, with black threading through, but it was like a layer of snow on concrete. His shoulders were still broad, his body straight, and he had large, scarred hands that had seen plenty of hard use. The High Commander was of African heritage, with skin so dark it held overtones of blue in the lamplight, and startling hazel eyes that looked as sharp and clever as Scholar Wolfe’s.
“Recruits,” he said. There was nothing but a Codex and a single folded paper on his desk. “Until your final test, your squad demonstrated an outstanding amount of potential.”
“Sir,” Glain said. “Permission to speak?”
The High Commander’s gaze fixed on her, and Jess was very glad it wasn’t aimed at him. “Denied,” he said. “You are here to listen, Recruit Wathen, and not to provide me with excuses. To continue: this squad had a great amount of potential. The last test was, in fact, designed to simulate an ambush of your squad by hostile forces while you were in the performance of regular duties. In the course of that exercise, one of your squad was killed, and another injured. Is that accurate? You may now answer, Wathen. Briefly.”
“That description is accurate, sir,” Glain said. There was no emotion to it. She stared into the distance, somewhere over the High Commander’s squared shoulders.
“The exercise was designed to test your innovativeness, your toughness, your responsiveness, your team’s bonds. How do you feel that you performed in light of this, Recruit Wathen?”
“Sir, our progress toward our goal was steady and careful, and when presented with the unexpected challenge of Greek fire, we took cover and returned fire. We followed procedure. We defended our Scholar at all costs.”
“Ah,” the High Commander said, and leaned back in his chair. “The Scholar. There comes the interesting twist in this tale: you were not assigned a Scholar or anyone representing one. Scholar Wolfe’s intrusion into this space was unauthorized and introduced random factors that call the entire exercise into doubt.”
“Permission to ask a question, sir,” Jess said, and pushed forward before he could be told no. “If Scholar Wolfe wasn’t authorized to be there, then how did he get in?”
It was a simple and revealing question, and the High Commander stared at him unblinkingly for a moment. Jess could almost feel the rest of his squad trying to shift away from him without moving a muscle.
“Scholar Wolfe forged credentials to allow himself access. We are still investigating the matter.” Clearly, he wasn’t happy about Wolfe’s refusal to cooperate further. The closed Codex on his desk hummed for attention, and he paused to consult it, then closed it again.
Glain took advantage of the distraction to say, “The Greek fire wasn’t at exercise strength, sir. It was fully dangerous. And we are well aware that one of our own was meant to take out Scholar Wolfe, and died for failing. It’s a testament to our squad’s determination and training that this ambush did not succeed. Sir.”
“Your argument is that your squad succeeded, Sergeant? At the cost of one dead recruit and one seriously impaired, possibly unable to return to duty?”
“We are sworn to fight and die in service to the Library. Recruit Oduya tried to shoot our Scholar—a Scholar who, whether supposed to be there or not, was nevertheless our responsibility. So yes, sir. We did succeed.”
“Do you then accept responsibility for a traitor within your own squad?”
It was a trap, and in the hard silence that fell, Jess struggled with an impulse to blurt out a defense. Glain wouldn’t thank him.
After letting the stillness weigh on the room for a moment, she said, “I do, sir. If Recruit Oduya was compromised, I should have seen that and acted before he was able to commit such a crime. His death is on my hands, and I accept all responsibility.”
“I would expect nothing less of someone in command.” The man’s voice had a low, rumbling timbre to it, and Jess could well imagine how it would echo across a messy battleground, rasping orders and shouting encouragement to his troops. Like Glain, a born leader. Don’t throw her away, Jess thought desperately. She deserves better. “At least you understand your duty, even if you failed to adequately perform it. Recruit Oduya did indeed receive additional payment from an unknown source, no doubt to act as Wolfe’s assassin. He was backed up in his heinous crime by another, as yet unknown individual who was responsible for the shot that killed him. The same individual no doubt substituted full-strength Greek fire for the exercise formulation.”
Despite their training, Jess felt the squad shifting around him, exchanging glances. Glain stayed still and focused. Waiting for the ax to fall.
“After much consideration and debate, it has been determined that this squad was not at fault for the outcome of this exercise, and no punishment shall be assigned to the team as a whole. Recruit Brightwell, you first spotted the danger to the Scholar and protected his life. You also risked your own life to fetch assistance for fallen colleagues. Few of the regular ranks could have done better under the same circumstances. You are to be commended for your actions.”
Jess blinked. This had taken him entirely by surprise. He wasn’t used to open praise.