The Lotus Eaters

Casa Linda, Balboa, Terra Nova

"We've kept Quarters One open for you, on the Isla Real," McNamara said.

Jimenez snorted. ""We'd have had a mutiny if we tried to fill them." More seriously, he added, "Really, Patricio; we've been able to keep things going as well as we have in good part because we could tell the troops you would be back. That's been getting pretty threadbare for a while now."

"I've missed the boys," Carrera admitted with a sigh that sounded as if it were of longing. "But you might as well have turned the quarters over to the commander of the Training Legion. And your own, as well."

"Why's that?" Mac asked.

"Because we're going to have to move the legions and tercios—yes, almost all of them—from the Isla Real to the mainland."

"We're?" Jimenez asked.

Carrera sighed once again. "Yes. 'We're.' Bastards.

"And I'll need to talk to Raul . . . and the leaders of the legislature. I'm not taking sole responsibility for the shit that I do anymore, if only because I don't quite trust my own judgment anymore."