The Lotus Eaters

Furiocentro Convention Center, Balboa City

Parilla cocked his head, raised one eyebrow, and cast his gaze over the throng until they quieted. Even after they had, he waited until Carrera had taken a seat before he began to speak.

"What I'm going to say is as much political as military, or arguably more so. My friend, Patricio, spoke of three tiers that will compose the Legion. Arguably there will be seven . . . I mean six."

"Don't even mention the cadets, Raul, Carrera had warned.

Sorry, Patricio. Parilla looked apologetically at Carrera, sitting in his vacated seat in the front row.

"Besides the regulars, reservists, and militia, there are also those who could have come to the colors but did not. Some of those can be expected to volunteer when the abstract threat of war changes to actual or imminent war. After those are people who may never spend a day in uniform but who can still be put to work as civilians, digging trenches if they've no other skill.

"Lastly are groups like the Police, the Young Scouts, firefighters; all of whom have some training, a chain of command, and a sense of civic duty, and all of whom can supplement the rest in critical ways."

"And please don't mention the hidden reserves," Patricio had also said.

I didn't. Besides, I doubt you've told me about all of them.

"Between them, these can produce the force Duque Carrera requires to defend the country . . . from anything or anyone.

"All that said, Balboa itself is split, and not just by the former government cowering in its enclave in Old Balboa City and the Taurans who bestraddle the Transitway. Even though the Legion has adopted Balboa—no surprise since you're eighty-three percent Balboan—and my government has adopted the Legion—also no surprise since you're all that stands between us and the stinking Taurans—we still exist in two separate worlds. The only junction between those worlds are myself, and the few members of the Legislative Assembly who have served in the Legion. And even that junction is emotional rather than legal."

Parilla reached a hand toward his lower lip and tapped it contemplatively with his fingers. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, Oh, well, may as well get on with it.

"No sense in dilly-dallying; we're bringing the Legion into the government as a second legislative body, which we shall call the "Senate." The Senate will be co-equal with the current assembly and will have complete power over the Legion and its assets. Initially, since I am a veteran of the Legion, I will serve as president of the Senate or—what was that you wanted to call the office, Patricio? Princeps Senatus? The rest of the initial body of the Senate will be chosen, one per cohort, later one per tercio, from the discharged veterans of those cohorts and tercios. Still later, as the centuriate assembly which will elect member to the Senate is formed, you may choose someone else."

Not that, under the circumstances, that is very likely, very soon.

* * *

Seated in the front, Carrera thought, Yes. Precisely because I no longer trust my moral judgment. Not that it was ever all that good.