We have ordered the equivalent of twenty — count ‘em! — library-style bookshelves for our house. Can you say ka-CHING! There was really nothing else we could do. If you’re a serious collector of books, the stuff they laughingly call bookshelves in places like Ikea just don’t cut the mustard. And custom-built timber shelves cost even more than the metal ones we’ve shelled out for.

But bookshelves mean unpacking boxes and books. And unpacking books means taking several trips down various memory lanes. And I didn’t realise that I had more autographed books than I thought, from Terry Pratchett, Patrick Tilley, Greg Bear, Jeri Smith-Ready, Karyna da Rosa, and Liane Spicer to name a few. I thought it was only a recent obsession of mine, but I now see I’ve had this desire for many years. There are some boxes that haven’t seen the light of day for ten years, as evidenced by the pages of local newsprint that cover and pad them. A couple (including a copy of Robert Silverberg’s “Sunrise on Mercury”) have been termited to oblivion. Lucky I had several spare copies.

Which brings me to another point. Having owned a bookshop in a past life, it’s inevitable that I’d end up with multiple copies of various books. “Spock’s World” by Diane Duane for one, “Queen of Angels” by Greg Bear for another. The question is, what should I do with these copies? I know J will be eyeing my fiction shelves with a jaundiced eye, looking for more room for his ancient histories, and he will inevitably question the wisdom of holding several copies of Gibson’s “Mona Lisa Overdrive” or Lumley’s Necroscope books, there to take up valuable shelf space, while Seutonius languishes in a pile on the floor. At the moment, I’m thinking of donating my spare copies to a couple of libraries. (When you have 5 copies of a particular Asimov anthology, it’s easy to spread the cheer.) I was also thinking of doing a review of the book before I dispense my charity. That should keep me occupied on Wednesday’s when War Games runs out, methinks.

In other news, I also have to add an erratum. I mentioned that Robert Asprin was the person responsible for the best Lensman parody (”Backstage Lensman“) I’ve ever read. I was wrong. The piece was written by Randall Garrett, not Mr. Asprin. Many apologies to the memories of both.

Lori Devoti, accomplished romance author, took time from her busy schedule to talk to me. You’ll find the interview at Radio Free Bliss. Lori talks about how she crafts the dreaded synopsis, what happened with her first manuscript, the importance of being a versatile writer, branding, and Madison, Wisconsin. We cover a lot of ground in a surprisingly short time. Be sure to subscribe if you don’t want to miss out on any future interviews … and there are some doozies coming along!

In other news, Chapter Seventeen of War Games is now up. It’s the end-game. Cheloi has sent Garza away for her own safety and must now decide what to do with Rumis. Leave him on Menon or take him with her? And will Koul finally get the opportunity he’s always wanted to kill his commanding officer? Things really start falling apart in this chapter, so you won’t want to miss any of the action.

FAVOURITE QUOTES

“Rumis, contact Black sector. Ask them what the f–k they think they’re doing.”

“I wouldn’t want to begrudge Koul his moment of glory at the centre of operations,” she finally told him.
“Then don’t begrudge me mine either, Colonel. If I have served you well these past years, then please allow me that moment too.”

“Koul, I can explain,” she gasped, as his hands grabbed her collar and started to twist it.
But she knew she couldn’t talk herself out of this one. Koul was going to kill her and, this time, he was going to do it himself.

She met his cloudy brown gaze as openly as she could. “Good will come of this, Rumis,” she told him. “Believe me.”

I know I don’t usually blog on a Tuesday, but I just read an interview with veteran agent, Molly Friedrich, and was very impressed by her and her attitude. What a shame she doesn’t rep s-f romance! Her perspective is straightforward and honest and, as a result, witty and charming, and she dishes great advice to would-be authors. For example, on voice:

First of all, is there anybody out there who doesn’t know that the easiest thing to sell is plot? But the thing that everybody wants is an original voice. And the thing that’s kind of stuck in the middle is character … Now, what is an original voice? Well, think of it like this: Go to Bonfire of the Vanities and close your eyes and pick a page and have someone read you two paragraphs. If you can’t identify those paragraphs as the rhythms and cadences that belong to Tom Wolfe, you’re finished. I’m convinced that eight times out of ten, with Melissa Bank, you could do the same thing.

On what you should have done when you begin shopping for an agent:

First of all, I don’t think an author should approach an agent before they have a manuscript … If I met every person who wanted to just have a chat before they sent their book, I’d go out of business.

Some great potential questions to ask a prospective agent:

You are fully within your rights to ask an agent whom else he represents. You are also within your rights to ask an agent to tell you about a couple of authors whose books he’s sold recently. You can’t live on your laurels and sit around bragging about your top five best-known clients. “What have you sold recently, and how’d it go?” And maybe ask, “What did you love that you weren’t able to sell?” Everyone thinks I sell everything I touch. Wrong, wrong, wrong. There’s loads of stuff I take on and don’t sell. It’s extremely painful. So I think it’s fair to talk about these things. I think you want to see what kind of a match you are. Can you talk with this agent frankly? Do you feel comfortable?

And (sigh) the fiction market:

Fiction is being published less and less. The stakes are higher. All editors say the same thing to me. They say, “I’ve got money to spend. I’d really love to do business with you. I’d love to buy a book from you.” That’s code. What they mean is they’d love to buy a book, for which they can possibly overpay, that is big in obvious and immediate ways. And most books are not big in obvious and immediate ways. They simply aren’t. Something has to change.

I have sold books for many millions of dollars and I have sold books for two thousand dollars and pretty much everything in between. I have experienced the fantastical joys of selling books for a whole lot of money. It is a joyous moment. But it isn’t necessarily the best thing in the world. It isn’t. Perhaps it’s blasphemous for me to say that. But if you sell a first novel for a million dollars, you are putting so much pressure on that book to perform at a certain moment, in a certain season, at a certain level. And most books don’t perform immediately. Something, I think, has to give.

That’s not to say I agree with everything she says. For example:

If they have a book and they are sending it out, they should always say in the letter if they are doing multiple submissions. That is common courtesy. I would also say that I want to know the circumstances under which I am reading something. Have you sent this to ninety-five other people? Have you sent this to one other person? Do I have this exclusively? Because if I push aside my own reading, which is the tyranny of all our lives, in order to be fast, at least tell me what I need to do. The other thing is that the author should agree—if the author is playing consumer here and sending it to five agents who want to read it—that he’s not going to make a decision until he has heard from all five people. You should respect an agent’s time. Do we get paid for our time? No. Respect a busy agent’s time. The thing I want to kill someone for is when I read something over the weekend and I’m about to pick up the phone to tell them it’s the most wonderful book since War and Peace, and they say, “Oh, sorry, I’ve signed on with Joe Blow who called on Sunday morning.” No. No, no, no, no, no. That is really wrong. Be fair. If you are going to put us on the spot, give us all a fair chance.

Of course, the situation she relates is tragic. And if I ever hypothetically signed with an agent, I think it would be common courtesy to inform all the other agents to whom I’ve sent queries/partials/fulls about the change in that manuscript’s status. To me, that’s just good manners.

However, having said that, I’m not about to blurt out in a query to Agent Sarah Schmooze that she’s one of 489 agents I’m querying. Or that I’ve received 203 rejections so far and she’s the 204th one on my list. Lord knows there are flimsy enough reasons for agents to reject queries (they get so many of the damn things), without me giving them a loaded rifle to shoot down mine.

But that’s a minor quibble I think. For the full interview (and do take your time with this; even if she wasn’t an agent, Molly Friedrich would be a terribly interesting person to read about) go here.

There have been a few instances of censorship and inappropriate behaviour in the publishing world recently. The instance of an anti-Obama cartoon, following claims of censorship from other cartoonists, in The New Yorker magazine. Then the rejection letter and William Sanders’ reference to “sheet heads” with regards to a Helix submission. (Spontaneous Derivation has a tight and lucid summary of the whole thing.) And the usual goings on in Romancelandia regarding reviews, stalking, contracting under false names, and so on.

While talking about all this, J commented that perhaps we tend to forget that writers are just ordinary people. That just because they (I) have stuff published doesn’t mean they’re (I’m) any more educated, or broad-minded, than anybody else.

He’s right, but — to me — that just means that people involved in something like the publishing world have to be extra careful. I consider editors, for example, to be gatekeepers. They decide what’s appropriate for public consumption and what’s not. And, in such a position, where their decisions are already rife with subjectivity (and necessarily so … I’m not quibbling with that aspect of the biz), it’s still important to try to be as impartial as possible, whether we’re talking about political cartoons or the greenhouse effect.

By the same token, I think of authors as “influencers”. Yes, I know we’re writing fiction, and it’s entertainment when all’s said and done, but I sincerely believe that, where my work is being read by people outside my immediate circle of friends, I have a responsibility to think about what I present and how I present it. After all, it’s not as though a reader in Bukina Faso cared about my character, Jo Bloggs, before s/he started reading my story. But part of what I do as a writer means that I attempt to cajole, or seduce, that reader into caring about Jo. I am, in effect, influencing the reader’s thoughts to look upon Jo either favourably or unfavourably or — my preferred option — some mix of the two. So, yes, I really do believe that authors influence people, and a responsibility like that is not one that — I think — should be taken lightly.

It’s why, for example, I’ve sworn off virgin heroines since The Commander’s Slave. (And you can’t believe how frustrating that is, when TCS is my best-selling book evah.) Upon reflection, I think that the sub-text of a virginal, but otherwise accomplished kick-ass, heroine is one I’m not comfortable with, and I doubt I’ll be visiting that trope again in the classic sense. That’s a personal choice of mine, and I don’t expect everyone else to agree with me but, at the same time, I do expect every writer to at least think about the ramifications of the character/plot/setting choices before s/he puts fingers to keyboard.

Or do you think that’s a bit harsh/unrealistic?

The 14th of September is the date of the Mid-Autumn Festival for 2008. What does this mean? Mooncake!! Mooncake mooncake everywhere, so many variations to choose from.

About.com gives a great description of the Festival. Here’s a brief — ha ha — taste:

Every year on the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar, when the moon is at its maximum brightness for the entire year, the Chinese celebrate “zhong qiu jie.” Children are told the story of the moon fairy living in a crystal palace, who comes out to dance on the moon’s shadowed surface. The legend surrounding the “lady living in the moon” dates back to ancient times, to a day when ten suns appeared at once in the sky. The Emperor ordered a famous archer to shoot down the nine extra suns. Once the task was accomplished, Goddess of Western Heaven rewarded the archer with a pill that would make him immortal. However, his wife found the pill, took it, and was banished to the moon as a result. Legend says that her beauty is greatest on the day of the Moon festival.

As mooncakes only come around once a year, J and I make it a point to try different types and, in our quest for delectable edibles, have stumbled across the excellent range from Yong Sheng. Their Yoghurt Paste Mochi Moon Cake is divine (moon cake filled with cranberry yoghurt paste and a Taiwan-style mochi), as is their Auspicious Moon Cake (yam filling enclosing a mochi with a strawberry fruit gel in the middle). I’m also hankering for their Lemon Green Tea Moon Cake which, as you’ve probably guessed, contains green tea. Their strangest one, though, is the one I wanted to point out:

It’s called a Nyonya Pudding Curry Moon Cake and, in case the text from the brochure is too indistinct, this is how it’s described:

The aromatic curry paste in this mooncake is made from curry power [sic], galanga [sic], lemongrass, chilly, lotus seed paste and other 20 over Nyonya style cooking ingredients. The taste is definitely aromatic, spicy with a touch of Peranakan cuisine. The smooth mochi and pudding filling are indeed the ideal blend for superb taste. Surely pleasing your sensitive taste buds.

Yes, you have just seen the words “curry” and “pudding” together (hopefully, for the first time ever at this blog). And, believe it or not, it actually tastes pretty darn nice. It’s also rather hot, so is not recommended for those who normally avoid fiery food. (Or, er, curry pudding.) Hop along to Yong Sheng and you’ll see some mooncakes that look almost too gorgeous to eat. Almost. Heh heh. Of course they’re all high in calories but, what the heck, the Mid-Autumn Festival only comes around once a year. In fact, there’s a Yong Sheng shop on the way to the bank and I need to duck out to do some banking later this afternoon…

*: That’s the Gary Larson spelling for “food”, not the acronym for “fear, uncertainty, doubt”.

Cheloi says good-bye to Garza.

FAVOURITE QUOTES

If there was only one moment from her life she could live over and over, Cheloi thought, this would be it, and she poured every drop of love, longing and regret into that embrace.

“This is preposterous!” Koul exclaimed.
Yes it was. Even Cheloi could see that. But it was her preposterous, so that made it all right.

Rumis’ eyes darkened with sympathy and Cheloi could have happily killed herself in that moment for being able to lie so well, so consummately, to the person she valued above all else.

To the War Games page!

Blatantly, overtly, unashamedly political. Oh, and there’s something about writing in it too.

The United States hasn’t liked Somalia for a long time. It’s been personal (which, of course, is exactly how it should be between sovereign nations, right?) since the dead American soldier episode in Mogadishu, and that interlude with the bunch of US Rangers cornered in a house for hours, until they were finally rescued by — hello! — Malaysians! Would it really have been that much effort for Hollywood to get it right in Black Hawk Down?

But onto the real subject of this blog, which is the recent Esquire article written by US embedded journalist, Thomas Barnett, about his time in the Horn of Africa (Ethiopia, Somalia, Dijibouti) with the newly-born, US brainchild, “African Command”. I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to see some really strange journalism coming out of the world’s hotspots. I’m used to straightforward interviews, historical snapshots, callouts of the major players, things like that. However, what I’m starting to get is more like this:

Camp Lemonier, home to CJTF-Horn of Africa, is one nasty, hot, and oh-so-stanky chunk of rock adjoining the Red Sea …

Stanky? What’s “stanky”? Stinky? Skanky? A hip mash-up of both? Or

Africa Command promises to be everything Central Command has failed to become … It will “reduce the future battlespace” … It’ll be Iraq done right.

Oh, save me! Or this

The transitional Somali government … is faltering, and in scenes reminiscent of America’s last misadventures in Mog, both Ethiopian troops and African Union peacekeepers are taking fire from 360 degrees’ worth of pissed-off Somali clans … Osama bin Laden himself couldn’t have written a better ending.

He’s big with the terms, is our Tom. “Mog”, which must be the embedded hipster’s term for “Mogadishu”. (I might call “Washington DC” “Wash Dic” from now on; you know, just to get into the spirit of things.) “Future battlespace”. “Kinetics” instead of the passe “killing”. “Human intelligence”. “Downrange”. “Spycraft”. It goes on. And on. And on.

Sitting atop the building in the warm night air, we are serenaded from three sides in a mash-up only Tom Friedman could love. The Coptic priest is haranguing his parish in an endless sermon … the looming mosque tower is booming its taped call to prayers; and … Eminem joins in about what a whore his mother is … Popping beers and shouting through the din, Captain Wright steers the conversation …

For. Six. Freaking. Pages! Srsly, when I want to read a serious article on a war involving an horrendous number of atrocities, I — believe it or not — want to read a serious article on a war involving an horrendous number of atrocities. I want to know casualties, who committed them, and who they were committed on, with several conjectures on why. I want to know what infrastructure has been destroyed and who by. I want to know background on all the lead players — alliances, past slights, previous strategies, and possible future actions. I want to know where the money’s coming from, where it’s going, and where it’s been stored in the meantime.

What I do NOT want is some wanker who — as an embedded person has greater access to military intelligence than any of his existing independent peers, and obviously — sees himself as some kind of real-life Dirk Pitt meets James Bond meets Sam Spade, trying out his “gritty” prose style via something that purports to be serious journalism, in obvious preparation for hunting around for a literary agent. When I am reading a serious journalistic article, I do not want twee little nicknames. I do not want American writers or singers being name-dropped in an effort to appeal to some hip demographic (or possible future endorsement). When I want serious journalism (and nothing is more serious in journalism than the reporting of human death), I expect facts and substantiated conjecture, not half-giggling insouciance and macho appeals to all the armchair Rambos out there.

[Dijibouti] … is a great example of the tectonic stresses at work here, its battered visage almost exemplifying the numerous civilizations that have crashed into one another here on the streets of this ancient port city.

Aaarrrghhh! Enough already! So, what I’m saying to you is, look out for an action-packed, so-real-you’ll-think-you-were-really-there novel from Thomas Barnett to hit the bookshelves very soon. That’s the only explanation I have for the dreck I forced myself to wade through, in search of some small nuggets of actual, you know, JOURNALISM. ‘Cos he, sure as hell, ain’t writing that!

The book he’s working on will probably involve a political assassination plot (my money says US Vice-President, UK Prime Minister or UN Secretary-General), action that ranges from the rich avenues of Wash Dic to the poor desperation of Mog and the dangerous streets of terrorism-funding Kuala Lumpur (er, KL), and involve some lone gun who screws attractive blonde lobbyists while trying to reconcile with his divorced high-powered attorney wife, and his desperate race to rescue his kidnapped daughter, reach the White House/New York/London/Geneva in time and prevent the killing before Islamic fundamentalists, Swiss cheese-makers and misguided yet brawny US Special Forces hunt him down and kill him. Can’t wai…ZZZzzzzzz…

POSTSCRIPT: The new United States Africa Command is so “with it”, so “in tune” with Africa that “for the forseeable future”, its headquarters will be in … drumroll please … Stuttgart, Germany. Well done.

Courtesy of Andrew Wheeler squared (as if one isn’t enough! Thank you Andrew Wheeler and Andrew Wheeler). The rules of the meme: bold those you have tried, strikethrough those you wouldn’t eat on a bet. Brief descriptions are provided for some of the more obscure items.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich (peanut butter & grape jelly sandwich)
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes (home-grown, no less!)
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper (only once & only a sliver. That was enough!)
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi (but I prefer sweet)
34. Sauerkraut (also the Chinese equivalent of salted mustard greens … superior taste, imo)
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea (if we’re talking tea & scones, that is)
38. Vodka jelly (again, homemade. I’m such an alcoholic!)
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal (very hot Indian curry)
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu (I can’t find the haiku along the lines of, “I’d like to eat fugu, but life is sweet”)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear (a cactus)
52. Umeboshi (pickled plum-like fruit)
53. Abalone (can’t see what all the fuss is about, tbh)
54. Paneer (Indian cheese; easy to make at home. But what about Haloumi?)
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle (MIL makes it; they’re like a lazy hybrid of noodles and tiny dumplings)
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine (french fries topped with cheese curd & brown gravy)
60. Carob chips (I’m not a fan of carob’s grainy texture)
61. S’mores (marshmallow, chocolate and crackers)
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin (edible clay)
64. Currywurst (although all wursts are not created equal)
65. Durian (also durian cake and durian ice-cream!)
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis (I like it!)
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette (cooked pig intestines)
71. Gazpacho (cold soup of Spanish origin)
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe (a type of spirit)
74. Gjetost, or brunost (caramelised Nordic cheese)
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu (recently discovered this (white spirit made from rice). Great for mixing!)
77. Hostess Fruit Pie (variation of a Twinkie, from what I can gather)
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong (a type of tea from China)
80. Bellini (champagne and peaches)
81. Tom yum (J is the tom yum tasting expert)
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky (Japanese chocolate-dipped snack sticks)
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant (2- but not 3- … not yet, sigh)
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa (Russia has a similar condiment called adjika)
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano (Mexican savoury chocolate sauce)
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee (what, not civet?)
100. Snake

Think I scored 84. Your turn.

I know I’m probably preaching to the choir here, but I just couldn’t let this pass.

* Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili called for an immediate cease-fire with South Ossetian separatists on Thursday, 7 August. Hours AFTER this announcement, Georgian troops killed Russian peacekeepers stationed at South Ossetia, and started bombing South Ossetia. (See 7th paragraph of this article.)

* On Friday, 8 August, Russia proposed, and Belgium drafted, an urgent UN Security Council statement, in an emergency session called by Russia, urging both the Georgians and South Ossetians to “show restraint and to refrain from any further acts of violence or force.” This statement was VETOED by the United States, Great Britain and France. See here and here.

* There were — and still are — hundreds of United States, and allied, military/security advisors in Georgia. They were openly training the Georgian troops in combat operations but — considering that Georgia has the 3rd highest contingency in Iraq — NOT in any of the kind of warfare occurring in Iraq. Don’t take my word for it, go here to the United States European Command itself and read — and see — for yourself. See also the Georgia embassy site for a public article on the US training, and an interesting article from EurasiaNet. For more details of US funding of initiatives in Georgia (in 2003, at least), go to the State Department site. See also here for a State Department profile on Georgia. There’s a heading of “US-Georgia relations” that’s interesting to read.

This kind of stuff has been like burrs in Russia’s socks since 2002, if truth be known. So Russia decided to wipe the floor with the Georgians. (Remember, Russia went to the UN Security Council FIRST, and got no joy from the leaders of democracy in the West.)

And now, what do we have?

* Dick Cheney says that “Russian aggression must not go unanswered” and William Kristol from the New York Times, says “Surely we cannot simply stand by as an autocratic aggressor gobbles up part of — and perhaps destabilizes all of — a friendly democratic nation that we were sponsoring for NATO membership a few months ago.” Just open your local paper for more like this.

Actually, let’s think on Kristol’s words for a while. Exactly how friendly and democratic is Georgia?

* Well, Human Rights Watch was moved to write an open letter to Georgian President Saakashvili in 2007 regarding Georgia’s treatment of accused persons and prisoners.

* The International Federation of Human Rights has a report on “Human Rights violations in Georgia”. It’s amongst a gaggle of other items; just search on “Georgia”.

* This EurasiaNet article also sets out some pretty damning accusations, including torture, arbitrary detentions and humiliating treatment.

* Even someone who admired him, author Mark MacKinnon (he’s published a book, The New Cold War, on the region), is wondering what’s going on in Georgia and in Saakashvili’s head, and readily admits that Saakashvili started the whole thing.

Which brings us back to the start of this blog again. War is hell. People die. Both sides are dirty. But is it too much to expect some cold, clear-eyed reporting on this conflict? Russia is not the devil incarnate in this, just as Georgia is not the spotless angel. What I would like to read is less propaganda and more news. Or are we all long past that point?

Aw, have we reached the three-quarter mark already? We’ll be done by the end of September, folks, which means I’ll then have to think of actual blogs to post on Wednesdays. This serialisation has made me a bit blog-lazy, I fear. However, that’s beside the point. Onwards…

Cheloi grabs what little respite she can before the visit of Rep Kodnell of Central Control. Kodnell, when he arrives, proves to be ruthless, intelligent and unrelenting. How is our favourite Fusion agent going to do, going up against him? It’s going to be bad enough in the briefing room, but when they have their inevitable cosy little chat afterwards, the tension — and risks — rise accordingly.

FAVOURITE QUOTES

“I voted for Grakal-Ski. I thought he’d be ideal for the Nineteen. Ambitious, intelligent, loyal. The others voted for you, after your campaigns in the Eight. I hated you for that–a woman, in charge of one of the most important territories in the war. I wondered whether we had descended to the perversity of the Fusion.” He finished his drink in one gulp and jiggled the empty glass, silently asking for a refill.

She wondered what the penalty was for killing a member of the Central Control. She knew it was death, but what kind of death? Depending on the method, it might be faintly worth it.

He laughed again at the stiffness in her tone. “You’re not as good a liar as you think you are, Sie.”
Oh, you don’t know the half of it, you bastard.

“Pull this off, Sie, and you’ll be looking at the first female generalship in Perlim history.”
“I know that, sir.”
“Fail, and we’ll skin you alive and feed you to the Emperor’s zoo animals.”
“I know that too, sir.”