The Lotus Eaters

Headquarters, Tauran Union Security Force-Balboa, Bldg 59, Fort Muddville, Balboa

"Malcoeur, you fat, slimy toad," shouted General Janier, the Tauran Union commander in Balboa. Tall and slender, handsome after a fashion but for an unfortunately large nose, the general was dressed in his favorite costume, a replica of that of a marshal of Janier's hero, Napoleon.

"Oui, mon general?" the toady answered as he filled the lower half of the door to Janier's officer with his wide and short bulk. They called the Gauls, "Frogs," and in Malceour's case, the description was apt, from his wide bulk to his shortened, frog-like, pug face. The toady, a Tauran Union—which is to say Gallic Army—major, served as the great man's aide de camp.

"What is this meeting the locals are holding? Why was I not informed? Twenty thousand of them show up on our doorstep and I wasn't informed!"

"We had no warning, mon general. Apparently the word went out late last night and—voila!—they were suddenly here."

Janier gave Malcoeur a suspicious look. Was it possible the toad was enjoying his commander's discomfiture? No, impossible; so Janier thought.

"Nonsense, you fat fool," the general said. "This is an army of uncultured, uncivilized barbarians, people without tradition or experience or higher military education. They do not simply give orders and move. Even we could not assemble such a force so quickly."

We likely could not, agreed the aide, silently. But they seem to be able to. One suspects there are standing orders and plans in place to move like that, though we do not have adequate access to their plans and operations department. And we would have informed you a bit sooner, except that you were busy fucking your mistress in the apartment you carved out for her from military offices, just down the hall.

Malcoeur was an ass-licker, so all on the staff agreed, but he was an ass-licker who could still think. And he was enjoying Janier's feeling like a fool.

"Go and fetch me the G-2"—the intelligence officer for the Tauran Union forces in the Transitway—"and bring the miscreant to me by the scruff of his neck," Janier ordered. "I am confident that after we have a little chat he will not in the future be so remiss."