City of Blades by Robert Jackson Bennett Page B

surprised. Biswal checks his watch. “Ah. I’d forgotten what time it is.”
    “What the hells is that? It sounded like a volley.”
    “Well, it was, in a way.” Biswal takes out a spyglass and walks to the walls. He glasses a yard to the east, behind walls and walls of wire fencing. “Just another daily duty of Fort Thinadeshi.”
    He hands Mulaghesh the spyglass. It takes her only a moment to find it, and though it’s hazy with gunsmoke the scene is quite clear.
    Nine Saypuri soldiers with riflings stand at one end of the yard; at the other is a tall, earthen berm with dark, stained soil at its bottom. There’s something lying there in the dirt, limp and crumpled, and two Saypuri soldiers run forward and drag it away, leaving behind a streak of red mud.
    “They surprised a checkpoint,” says Biswal beside her. “Shot two of the guards there. We only captured them by pure coincidence—a returning patrol happened upon them.”
    The two soldiers drag in a filthy, cowering Continental man, his face almost completely obscured with bruises. They put a blindfold on him and stand him up before the berm. The crotch of his pants blooms dark with urine.
    “You’re
executing
them?” says Mulaghesh.
    “Yes,” says Biswal. “This is not Bulikov, Turyin. There is no order of law here, beyond tribal law. The only courts here are military courts. And the fortress’s prison is tiny and old. We can’t keep people there indefinitely.”
    She watches as the supervisor of the rifling squad shouts orders. The nine soldiers lift their riflings.
    “In Voortyashtan,” says Biswal, “we make do with what we can.”
    The yard fills with gunsmoke. The Continental man topples over. It takes a little bit longer for the sound of the gunshots to drift up to them.
    She lowers the spyglass and slowly hands it back to Biswal.
    “Perhaps you can now understand,” says Biswal, “that I have much more important things to care about than any secret science experiments. Captain Nadar—please show General Mulaghesh the laboratories. Perhaps before she retires she can inform the council what a ridiculous burden this all is. And once you’ve done so, report back to me on the status of the eastern perimeter. We still have real work to do.”
    ***
    Nadar is still composing herself at the foot of the stairs when Mulaghesh gets there. Nadar coughs. “I apologize for that, General. That must have been uncomfortable.”
    “I’ll say,” says Mulaghesh darkly. She oversaw executions of her own in Bulikov, of course, but they were far more ceremonial affairs, attended and supervised by civilian officials. What she just witnessed felt as mundane as taking out the day’s trash.
    “The thing is, I agree with him,” says Nadar. She begins walking down the hall, and Mulaghesh follows. “Operation Arc Lightning places a great burden on us when we need it least.”
    “But?”
    “But, Biswal has…little patience for any issue that isn’t actively posing a threat.”
    “When your predecessor got shot in combat, I can see why a clandestine mining operation might not top your list of priorities.”
    “General Raajhaa…Yes, he was a great leader, General. He was much admired. His loss changed many minds about what we’re doing here.” She shakes herself and begins taking a long staircase down. “How much do you know about Arc Lightning, General?”
    “I know it’s a metal. I know it’s in the ground. That’s about the run of it. I didn’t even realize it’d gotten a fancy code name yet.”
    “I see. And how much do you know about electrical engineering?”
    “Nothing. Maybe less than nothing.”
    “Well, that’ll make this easier,” says Nadar. “It’ll mean fewer questions.”
    They walk down the hallway to the lab doors. The ceilings here are covered with pipes and tubes, all sighing or squeaking or softly bubbling.
    “You are probably aware that electrification promises to be the next great step for our nation,” says