Destiny's Shield

"Think it through, Basil. If the charges are insufficient, and we wind up with a half-demolished dam—what then? You know as well as I do that it would be a nightmare to set new charges, with half the river pouring through. Take days, probably—not to mention the lives it would cost. In the meantime, the Malwa down at Babylon would have those same days to try and salvage their fleet. If the Euphrates drops slowly, they could probably get most of their ships downriver to safety before they ground. They could certainly get the ships far enough from Babylon that Khusrau couldn't strike at them."

He didn't raise his voice, not in the least, but his tone was like iron:

"I want that fleet grounded instantly, Basil. I want the Euphrates to drop so fast that the Malwa are caught completely off-guard."

Basil took a deep breath. Nodded.

Again, Belisarius clapped him on the shoulder.

"Besides, man—cheer up. We should be getting a new supply of gunpowder and rockets from Callinicum. Good Roman powder and rockets, too, not that Malwa crap. A big supply. I sent orders calling for every pound of gunpowder available. We've got more demolition work ahead of us. Lots more."

Basil grimaced.

Belisarius, understanding that grimace, made a little mental wince of his own.

I hope. If the usual screw-ups with logistics aren't worse than normal.

But there was no point in brooding on that matter, so he changed the subject.

"What's your opinion on security?" he asked.

Basil's face cleared up instantly.

"It's beautiful, sir. Between Abbu and our scouts, and Kurush and his Persians, I don't think a lizard could get within ten miles of here without being spotted."

From their vantage point on top of what remained of the ancient dam, the cataphract pointed down at the Nehar Malka. "The Malwa have no idea what we're doing here. I'm sure of it. The one thing I was worried about was that the Kushans might try to sneak out a few of their men to warn the Malwa down at Babylon. No way to do that in the daytime, of course, but I had Abbu maintain full patrols at night and he swears—swears—that no Kushan ever tried to—"

"No," interrupted Belisarius, shaking his head firmly. "That wouldn't—how can I say it?—that wouldn't be something the Kushans would do."

Basil's brow creased in a frown. "Why not? Vasu-deva's oath was that they wouldn't try a rebellion—or a mass breakout. He never swore that he wouldn't send a few men to report back."

Belisarius looked away. It was his turn to hesitate, now. He was as certain of his understanding of the Kushans as he was of anything in the world, but to explain it to Basil would require—

Aide broke through the quandary.

Tell him.

Belisarius almost started.

You are sure of this, Aide?

Tell him. As much, at least, as you need to. It will not matter, Belisarius. Even if he talks, so what? By now, Link will have deduced my presence in this world. At the very least, it will do so very soon. Much sooner than any loose talk among Roman troops could ever find its way to the ears of Malwa spies. Secrecy about me is not so important, anymore. Not as important, certainly, as the trust of your subordinate officers.

Belisarius sighed—with immense relief. He had always believed that his success as a general, as much as anything, rested on his ability to build a team around him. The need to keep Aide's presence a secret had cut across his most basic nature and instincts as a leader.

He was glad to be done with it.

Of course, came the firm thought, that doesn't mean you have to turn into a babbling babe.

Belisarius, smiling, turned back to the cataphract standing next to him. "I am—sometimes—blessed with visions of the future, Basil."

The Thracian soldier's eyes widened. But not much, Belisarius noted.

"You are not surprised?"