"Yep."
"And we won't get hurt?"
Tonker sighed. "The dusty flour will explode. That's simple. The blast coming this way will hit the barrels full of water which'll probably last just long enough to see it rebound. The worst that should happen to us is that we get wet. That's what Tilda thinks. Would you argue? And in the other direction, there's only the door."
"How does she work this out?"
"She doesn't. She just sees how it should go." Tonker handed Polly the end of a rope. "This goes over the beam and down to the dish lid. Can you hold it, lieutenant? But don't pull it until we say. I really mean that. C'mon, Polly."
In the space between the barrels and the door, Lofty was lighting a candle. She did it slowly, as if it was a sacrament or some ancient ceremony every part of which held enormous and complex meaning.
She lit a match, and held it carefully until the flame caught. She waved it back and forth on the base of the candle, which she thrust firmly onto the flagstones so that the hot wax stuck it into position. Then she applied the match to the candlewick.
Polly and Tonker watched her kneel there, staring at the dancing flame
"Okay," said Tonker. "I'm just going to pick her up, and you just carefully lower the lid over the candle, right? C'mon, Tilda."
She raised the girl carefully to her feet, whispering to her all the time, and then nodded to Polly, who lowered the lid with a carefulness that amounted to reverence.
Lofty walked as though asleep.
Tonker stopped by the leg of the heavy kitchen table, to which she'd attached the other end of the rope holding the flour bags.
"Okay so far," she said. "Now, when I pull the knot we each grab an arm and we run, Polly, understand? We run. Ready? Got her?" She hauled on the rope. "Run!"
The flour sacks dropped, streaming white dust as they fell, and exploded in front of the door. Flour rose like a fog.
They raced for the storeroom and fell in a heap past the barrel as Tonker screamed, "Okay, lieutenant!"
Blouse pulled the rope that raised the lid and let the candle flame reach -
The word was not whoomph. The experience was whoomph. It had a quality that overwhelmed every sense. It shook the world like a sheet, painted it white and then, surprisingly, filled it with the smell of toast. And then it was over, in a second, leaving nothing but distant screams and the rumble of collapsing masonry.
Polly uncurled, and looked up into Blouse's face.
"I think we grab things and run now, sir," she said. "And screaming would help."
"I think I can manage the screaming," muttered Shufti. "This is not a very nurturing experience."
Blouse gripped his ladle.
"I hope this isn't going to be our famous last stand," he said.
"In fact, sir," said Polly, "I think it's going to be our first. Permission to yell in a bloodcurdling way, sir?"
"Permission granted, Perks!"
The floor was awash with water and bits - quite small bits - of barrel. Half the chimney had collapsed into the fireplace and the soot was blazing fiercely. Polly wondered if, down in the valley, it'd look like a signal...
The door was gone. So was a lot of wall around it. Beyond -
Smoke and dust filled the air. In it, men lay groaning, or picked their way aimlessly across the rubble. When the squad arrived, they did not simply fail to put up a fight, they failed to understand. Or hear.
The women lowered their weapons. Polly spotted the sergeant, who was sitting and hitting the side of his head with the flat of his hand.
"Give me the keys!" she demanded.
He tried to focus.
"What?"
"The keys!"
"I'll have a brown one, please."
"Are you okay?"
"What?"
Polly reached down and snatched the keyring from the unresisting man's belt, fighting down an instinct to apologize. She threw it to Blouse.
"Will you do the honours, sir? I think we'll be having a lot of visitors really soon." She turned to the squad. "The rest of you, get their weapons off them!"
"Some of these men are badly hurt, Polly," said Igorina, kneeling down. "There's one here with multiple."
"Multiple what?" said Polly, watching the steps.
"Just... multiple. Multiple everything. But I know I can save his arm, because I've just found it over there. I think he must've been holding his sword and - "
"Just do what you can, okay?" said Polly.
"Hey, they're enemies," said Tonker, picking up a sword.
"Thith ith an Igor thing," said Igorina, taking off her pack. "I'm thorry, you wouldn't underthtand."
"I'm beginning not to." Tonker joined Polly in her watch on the stairs. Around them, men groaned and stone creaked. "I wonder how much damage we did? There's a lot of dust up there..."
"There'll be a lot of people here soon," said Polly, more calmly than she felt. Because this is going to be it, she thought. This time there's going to be no turkey to save us. This is where I find out if I'm the meat or the metal...
She could hear Blouse unlocking doors, and the shouts from those within. "Lieutenant Blouse, Tenth Infantry!" he was saying. "This is a rescue, broadly speaking. Sorry about the mess."
Probably his inner Daphne had added that last bit, Polly thought. And then the corridor was full of released men, and someone said, "What are these women doing here! For god's sake, give me that sword, girl!"
And, right now, she wasn't inclined to argue.
Men take over. It is probably because of socks.
The squad retired to the kitchen, where Igorina was at work. She worked fast, efficiently and, on the whole, with very little blood. Her large pack was open beside her. The jars inside were blue, green and red; some of them smoked when she opened them, or gave off strange lights. Her fingers moved in a blur. It was fascinating to watch her working. At least, it was if you hadn't just eaten.
"Squad, this is Major Erick von Moldvitz! He asked to meet you."
They turned at the sound of Blouse's voice. He'd brought a newcomer. The major was young, but much more heavily built than the lieutenant. He had a scar across his face.
"Stand easy, lads," he said. "Blouse here has been telling me what crackin' work you've been doing. Well done! Dressin' up as women, eh? Lucky you weren't found out!"
"Yessir," said Polly. From outside, there came the sound of cries and fighting.
"Didn't bring your uniforms with you?" said the major.
"Could've been tricky if they were found on us," said Polly, staring at Blouse.
"Could've been tricky anyway, eh, if you were searched?" said the major, winking.
"Yessir," said Polly obediently. "Lieutenant Blouse told you all about us, did he, sir?"
Just behind the major, Blouse was making a universal gesture. It consisted of both hands held palm up and outwards and waggled furiously with all fingers extended.
"Hah, yes. Stole some clothes from a knockin' shop, eh? Young lads like you shouldn't have gone in a place like that, eh? Those places are an Abomination, if they're run right!" said the major, wagging a finger theatrically. "Anyway, we're doing well. Hardly any guards this deep in the Keep, y'see. The whole place was built on the basis that the enemy would be on the outside! I say, what's that man doin' to the man on the slab?"
"Patching him up, thur," said Igorina. "Thewing hith arm back on."
"He's an enemy, ain't he?"
"Code of the Igorth, thur," said Igorina reproachfully. "A thpare hand where needed, thur."
The major sniffed. "Oh well, can't argue with you fellows, eh? But when you've finished, we've got plenty of chaps out there who could do with your help."
"Thertainly, thur," said Igorina.
"Any news of my brother, sir?" said Polly. "Paul Perks?"
"Yes, Blouse here mentioned him, Perks, but there's men locked up everywhere and it's a little tricky right now, eh?" said the major brusquely. "As for the rest of you, we'll get you into a pair of trousers as soon as possible and you can join in the fun, eh?"
"The fun," said Tonker, in a hollow voice.
"The fun being...?" said Polly.
"We've got as far as the fourth floor already," said von Moldvitz. "We might not have the whole Keep back, but we hold the outer courtyards and some of the towers. By morning, we'll control who comes in and goes out. We're back in the war! They won't invade now. Most of their top brass are in the inner keep."
"Back in the war," murmured Polly.
"And we will win!" said the major.
"Oh, sugar," said Shufti.
Something was going to give, Polly knew. Tonker had that look she got before she exploded, and even Shufti was fidgeting. It would only be a matter of time before Lofty found her box of matches, which Polly had hidden in a cupboard.
Igorina packed up her bag and smiled brightly at the major. "Ready to go, thur," she said.
"At least remove the wig, eh?"
"It'th my own hair, thur," said Igorina.
"Looks a bit... cissy, then," said the major. "It would be better if - "
"I am, in fact, female, sir," said Igorina, dropping most of the lisp. "Trust me, I'm an Igor. We know about this sort of thing. And my needlework ith second to none."
"A woman?" said the major.
Polly sighed. "We all are, sir. Really women. Not just dressed up as women. And right now I don't want to put any trousers on because then I'd be a woman dressed up as a man dressed up as a woman dressed up as a man, and then I'd be so confused I wouldn't know how to swear. And I want to swear right now, sir, very much."
The major turned stiffly to Blouse. "Did you know about this, lieutenant?" he barked.
"Well... yes, sir. Eventually. But even so, sir, I would - "
This cell was an old guardroom. It was damp, and had two creaking bunks.
"On the whole," said Tonker, "I think it was better when we were locked up by the enemy."
"There's a grille in the ceiling," said Shufti.
"Not big enough to climb through," said Polly.
"No, but we can hang ourselves before they do it."
"I'm told it's a very painful way to die," said Polly.
"Who by?" said Tonker.
Occasionally the sounds of battle filtered through the narrow window. Mostly it was yells; often it was screams. Fun was being had.
Igorina sat staring at her hands. "What's wrong with these?" she said. "Didn't I do a good job on that arm? But no, they're afraid I might touch their privates."
"Perhaps you could have promised to operate only on officers," said Tonker. No one laughed, and probably no one would have bothered to run for it if the door had swung open. It was a proud and noble thing to escape from the enemy, but if you were escaping from your own side, where would you escape to?
On one of the bunks, Wazzer slept like a hibernating bear. You had to watch her for some time to see her breathe.
"What can they do to us?" said Shufti nervously. "You know... really do to us?"
"We were wearing men's clothes," said Polly.
"But that's only a beating."
"Oh, they'll find some other stuff, believe you me," said Tonker. "Besides, who knows we're here?"
"But we got them out of prison! Our side!"
Polly sighed. "That's why, Shufti. No one wants to know that a bunch of girls dressed up as soldiers and broke into a big fort and let out half an army. Everyone knows females can't do that. Neither side wants us here, understand?"
"On a battlefield like this, who'll worry about a few more bodies?" said Tonker.
"Don't say that! Lieutenant Blouse spoke up for us," said Shufti.
"What, Daphne?" said Tonker. "Hah! Just another body. They've probably locked him up somewhere, just like us."
There was a distant cheering, which went on for some time.
"Sounds like they've got the building," said Polly.
"Hooray for us," said Tonker, and spat.
After a while, a small hatch was opened in the door and a silent man handed through a big can of scubbo and a tray of horse-bread. It wasn't bad scubbo or, at least, not bad scubbo by the standards of bad scubbo. There was some discussion about whether being fed meant you weren't going to be executed, until someone pointed out the tradition of the Last Hearty Meal.
Igorina gave it as her cultural opinion that the stew was not only hearty but lungy and livery too. But at least it was hot.
A couple of hours later a can of saloop was handed through, with some mugs. This time, the guard winked.
An hour after that, the door was unlocked. A young man in a major's uniform stepped inside.
Oh well, let's go on as we started, Polly thought. She leapt to her feet. "Squaddd... tennn... hut!"
With reasonable speed, the squad at least managed to stand up straight and in a line. The major acknowledged her by tapping the peak of his cap with a stick. It was definitely thinner than an inch.
"Stand easy... corporal, isn't it?" he said.
"Yessir." That sounded promising.
"I am Major Clogston, of the Provost's office," said the major. "And I'd like you to tell me all about it. About everything. I will make notes, if you don't mind."
"What's this about?" said Tonker.
"Ah, you'd be... Private Halter," said Clogston. "I've already spoken at length to Lieutenant Blouse." He turned, nodded at the guard hovering in the doorway, and shut the door. He also closed the hatch.
"You are going to be tried," he said, sitting down on the spare bunk. "The politicos want you to be tried by a full Nugganatic court, but that would be tricky here, and no one wants this to go on for any longer than it has to. Besides, there has been an... unusual event. Someone has sent a communique to General Froc asking about you all by name. At least," he added, "by your surnames."
"Was that Lord Rust, sir?"
"No, it was someone called William de Worde. I don't know if you've run across his newspaper thing? We're wondering how he knew you were captured."
"Well, we didn't tell him!" said Polly.
"It makes things a little... tricky," said Clogston. "Although, from your point of view, a lot more hopeful. There are those members of the army who are, let us say, considering the future of Borogravia. That is, they would like there to be one. My job is to present your case to the tribunal."
"Is that a court martial?" said Polly.
"No, they're not that stupid. Calling it a court martial would indicate that they accept that you are soldiers."
"You did," said Shufti.
"De facto is not de jure," said Clogston. "Now, as I said... tell me your story, Miss Perks."
"That's Corporal, thank you!"
"I apologize for the lapse. Now... go on..." Clogston opened his bag and produced a pair of half-moon spectacles, which he put on, and took out a pencil and something white and square. "Whenever you're ready?" he added.
"Sir, are you really going to write on a jam sandwich?" said Polly.
"What?" The major looked down, and laughed. "Oh. No. Excuse me. I really mustn't miss meals. Blood sugar, you know..."
"Only it's oozing, sir. Don't mind us. We've eaten."
It took an hour, with many interruptions and corrections, and two more sandwiches. The major used up quite a lot of notebook, and occasionally had to stop and stare at the ceiling.
"...and then we were thrown in here," said Polly, sitting back.
"Pushed, really," said Igorina. "Nudged."
"Mmm," said Clogston. "You say Corporal Strappi, as you knew him, was... suddenly very ill at the thought of going into battle?"
"Yessir."
"And in the tavern in Pl¨¹n you really kneed Prince Heinrich in the fracas?"
"In or about the fracas, sir. And I didn't know it was him at the time, sir."
"I see you haven't mentioned the attack on the hilltop where, according to Lieutenant Blouse, your prompt action got the enemy code book..."
"Not really worth mentioning, sir. We didn't do much with it."
"Oh, I don't know. Because of you and that nice man from the newspaper the Alliance has had two regiments trotting around in the mountains after some guerrilla leader called 'Tiger'. Prince Heinrich insisted, and is in fact in command. He is, you could say, a sore loser. Very sore, according to rumour."
"The newspaper writer believed all that stuff?" said Polly, amazed.
"I don't know, but he certainly wrote it down. You say Lord Rust offered to let you all go home quietly?"
"Yessir."
"And the consensus was that he could..."
"Stick it up his jumper, sir."
"Oh, yes. I couldn't read my own writing. J... U... M..." Clogston carefully wrote the word in capital letters, and then said: "I am not saying this, I am not here, but some... senior... people on our side are wondering if you would just quietly go...?"
The question hung in the air like a corpse from a beam.
"I'll put that down as 'jumper' too, then, shall I?" said Clogston.
"Some of us have got nowhere to go to," said Tonker.
"Or no one to go with," said Shufti.
"We haven't done anything wrong," said Polly.
"Jumper it is, then," said the major. He folded up his little spectacles and sighed. "They won't even tell me what charges are going to be made."
"Being Bad Girls," said Tonker. "Who are we fooling, sir? The enemy wanted just to be quietly rid of us, and the general wants the same thing. That's the trouble about the good guys and the bad guys. They're all guys!"
"Would we have got a medal, sir, if we'd been men?" Shufti demanded.
"Yep. Certainly. And Blouse would have been promoted on the spot, I imagine. But right now we're at war, and this might not be the time - "
" - to thank a bunch of Abominable women?" Polly suggested.
Clogston smiled. "I was going to say 'to lose concentration'. It's the political branch who are pushing for this, of course. They want to stop word getting around. And high command want this over quickly for the same reason."
"When is all this going to start?" said Polly.
"In about half an hour."
"This is stupid!" said Tonker. "They're in the middle of a war and they're going to take the time to hold a trial for a few women who haven't even done anything wrong?"
"The general has insisted," said Clogston. "He wants this cleared out of the way."
"And what authority has this tribunal got?" said Polly coldly.
"Thousands of men under arms," said Clogston. "Sorry. The trouble is, when you say to a general 'You and whose army?' he just has to point out of the window. But I intend to prove that the meeting should be a court martial. You all kissed the Duchess? You took the shilling? I say that makes it military business."
"And that's good, is it?"
"Well, it means there are procedures. The last Abomination from Nuggan was against jigsaw puzzles. They break the world into pieces, he says. That's making people think, at last. The army may be crazy, but at least it's crazy by numbers. It's reliably insane. Er, your sleeping friend... will you leave her here?"
"No," said the squad, as one woman.
"She needs my constant attention," said Igorina.
"If we leave her she might have a sudden attack of vanishing without a trace," said Tonker.
"We stick together," said Polly. "We don't leave a man behind."
The room chosen for the tribunal was a ballroom. More than half the Keep had been taken back, Polly learned, but the distribution of ground was erratic. The Alliance still held the central buildings, and the armoury, but were entirely surrounded by Borogravian forces. The current prize to fight for was the main gate complex, which hadn't been built to withstand attack from inside. What was happening out there now was a brawl, a midnight bar fight but on a huge scale. And, since there were various war engines atop the towers now occupied by either side, the Keep was shooting at itself, in the finest traditions of the circular firing squad.
The floor in here smelled of polish and chalk. Tables had been pushed together to make a rough semicircle. There must have been more than thirty officers, Polly thought. Then she saw the other tables behind the semicircles, and the maps, and the people scurrying in and out, and realized that this was not just about them. This was a war-room.
The squad were marched in, and stood at attention. Igorina had browbeaten a couple of guards to carry Wazzer on a stretcher. That circle of stitches under her eye was worth more than a colonel's pips. No soldier wanted to be on the wrong side of the Igors.
They waited. Occasionally an officer would glance at them, and go back to looking at a map, or talking. Then Polly saw some whispering going on, heads turned again, and there was a drift towards the semicircle of seats. There was a definite sense that here was a tiresome chore that, regrettably, had to be done.
General Froc did not look directly at the squad until he had taken his seat in the centre of the group and adjusted his papers neatly. Even then, his eye passed over them quickly, as if it was afraid to stop. Polly had never seen him before. He was a handsome man, and still had a fine head of white hair. A scar down one side of his face had just missed an eye, and showed up against the wrinkles.
"Things are moving well," he said, to the room at large. "We have just heard that a flying column led by the remnant of the Tenth are closing on the Keep and attacking the main gates from outside. Someone must have seen what is happening. The army is on the move!"
There was a certain amount of refined cheering at this, none of it from the squad. The general glanced at them again.
"Is this all of them, Clogston?" he said.
The major, who at least had a small table to himself, stood up and saluted. "No, sir," he said. "We are awaiting - "
The doors opened again. Jade was brought in, chained between two much larger trolls. Maladict and Blouse trailed behind her. It seemed that in all the rush and confusion no one had found any trousers for Blouse, and Maladict looked slightly blurred. His chains jingled constantly.
"I object to the chains, sir," said Clogston.
The general held a whispered consultation with a few of the other officers. "Yes, we do not want undue formality," he said, nodding at the guards. "Remove them. You trolls can go. I just want the guards to remain on the door. Now, let us proceed. This really shouldn't take too long. Now then, you people," he settled himself in his chair, "this really is very simple. With the exception of Lieutenant Blouse, you will agree to be returned to your homes and placed in the charge of a responsible male, understood? And no more will be said about this matter. You have showed considerable spirit, there is no doubt about that, but it was misplaced. We are not ungrateful, however. We understand that none of you is married and so we will present you all with suitable, indeed, with handsome dowries - "
Polly saluted. "Permission to speak, sir?"
Froc stared at her, and then looked pointedly at Clogston.
"You'll have a chance to speak later, corporal," said the major.
"But what exactly have we done wrong, sir?" said Polly. "They should tell us."
Froc looked at the far end of the row of chairs. "Captain?" he said.
A short officer got to his feet. In Polly's face, the tide of recognition raced across the mudflats of hatred.
"Captain Strappi, political division, sir - " he began, and stopped at the groan from the squad. When it had died away he cleared his throat, and went on: "Twenty-seven Abominations have been committed under Nugganatic law, sir. I suspect there have been many more. Under military law, sir, we have the simple fact that they posed as men in order to join up. I was there, sir, and saw it all."
"Captain Strappi, may I congratulate you on your rapid promotion?" said Lieutenant Blouse.
"Yes, indeed, captain," said Clogston. "Apparently you were a humble corporal only a few days ago?"
Plaster dust drifted down again as something heavy struck the wall outside. Froc brushed it off his paperwork.
"Not one of ours, I hope," he said, to a certain amount of laughter. "Do go ahead, captain."
Strappi turned to the general. "As you know, sir, it is occasionally necessary for us in the political division to assume a lower rank in order to gain intelligence. Covered under the Regulations, sir," he added.
The look that General Froc gave him stirred a little teacup of hope in Polly's breast. No one could like something like Strappi, not even a mother. Then the general turned back to Clogston.
"Is this germane, major?" he said testily. "We know they disguised themselves as - "
" - women, sir," said Clogston smoothly. "That's all we know, sir. Apart from Captain Strappi's assertion, and I intend to suggest later that this is tainted, I haven't yet heard any evidence that they have dressed in any other way."
"We have the evidence of our own eyes, man!"
"Yes, sir. They're wearing dresses, sir."
"And they're practically bald!"
"Yes, sir," said Clogston. He picked up a thick book, dripping with bookmarks. "Book of Nuggan, sir: 'It is a Beatitude Unto Nuggan that An Woman shall wear her hair short, that the amorous propensities of men be not therefore inflamed.'"
"I don't see a lot of bald women around!" snapped Froc.
"Yes, sir. It is one of those utterances that people find somewhat tricky, like the one about not sneezing. I should say at this point, sir, that I intend to show that Abominations are routinely committed by all of us. We have got into the habit of ignoring them, in fact, which opens up an interesting debate. In any case, short hair is Nugganatically correct. In short, sir, and in short hair, the ladies appear to have been involved in nothing more than a little laundry, a kitchen accident and the release of your good self from the cells."
"I saw them!" snarled Strappi. "They looked like men and they acted like men!"
"Why were you in the recruiting party, captain?" said Major Clogston. "I would not have thought one of those would have been a hotbed of seditious activity?"
"Is that a relevant question, major?" said the general.
"I don't know, sir," said Clogston. "That's why I asked. I don't think we would wish it to be said that these ladies had not been given a fair hearing?"
"Said by whom?" said Froc. "My officers can be relied upon to be discreet."
"Said by the ladies themselves, sir?"
"Then we must require that they do not speak to anyone!"
"Oh, I say!" said Blouse.
"And how will you enforce this, sir?" said Clogston. "Against these women who, we are agreed, stole you out of the jaws of the enemy?"
There was some muttering amongst the officers.
"Major Clogston, did you have lunch?" said the general.
"No, sir."
"Colonel Vester said you become a little... erratic when you miss meals..."
"No, sir. I become tetchy, sir. But I think a little tetchiness is called for right now. I put a question to Captain Strappi, sir."
"Very well, captain, perhaps you will tell us why you were with that recruiting party?" said the general wearily.
"I was... investigating a soldier, sir. A non-commissioned officer. Our attention had been drawn to irregularities in his files, sir, and where there are irregularities we generally find sedition. I hesitate to talk about this, sir, because this sergeant has been of some service to yourself - "
"Hrumph!" said the general loudly. "This is not a matter for discussion here, I think."
"It was just that according to the files, several officers had helped - " Strappi went on.
"Hrumph! Not matters for this court, captain! Are we agreed, gentlemen?"
"Yes, sir, it was just that the major asked me and I - " Strappi began, bewildered.
"Captain, I suggest you learn what a hrumph means!" roared Froc.
"So what were you looking for when you rummaged through our stuff?" said Polly, as Strappi shrank.
"Mmmmmy cccccoffee!" said Maladict. "Yyyyyou ssssstole mmmmmy cccccoffee!"
"And you ran away when you were told you were going into combat, you little dog's pizzle!" said Tonker. "Polly said you pissed your drawers!"
General Froc slammed his fist on the table, but Polly noticed that one or two officers were trying to conceal a smile. "These are not matters for this inquiry!" he said.
"Although, sir, one or two of them seem to me to be subjects for investigation later on," said a colonel, further along the table. "The personal belongings of enlisted men may only be searched in their presence, general. This may seem a trivial point, but men have mutinied over it in the past. Did you, in fact, believe the... men to be women when you did this, captain?"
Oh, say yes, please say yes, Polly thought, as Strappi hesitated. Because when we talk about how those cavalrymen found us so quickly, it'll mean you set them on a bunch of Borogravian girls. Let's see how that one plays in Pl¨¹n! And if you didn't know, then why were you rummaging?
Strappi preferred the rock to the hard place. Stone clattered down in the courtyard outside, and he had to raise his voice to make himself heard.
"I was, er, generally suspicious of them, sir, because they were so keen - "
"Sir, I protest!" said Clogston. "Keenness is not a military vice!"
"In moderation, certainly," said Froc. "And you found evidence of some sort, did you?"
"I did find a petticoat, sir," said Strappi, feeling his way with care.
"Then why didn't you - " Froc began, but Strappi interrupted.
"I did serve for a while with Captain Wrigglesworth, sir," he said.
"And?" said Froc, but the officer on his left leaned over and whispered something to him. "Oh, Wrigglesworth. Ha, yes," said Froc. "Of course. Fine officer, Wrigglesworth. Keen on, er - "
"Amateur dramatics," a colonel supplied, in a noncommittal voice.
"Right! Right! Ver' good for morale, that sort of thing. Hrumph."
"With respect, general, I think I can offer a way through?" said another man with a general's rank.
"Really, Bob?" said Froc. "Oh, well... feel free. The record will show that I am yielding the floor to General Kzupi."
"I'm sorry, sir, I thought these proceedings were not being recorded?" said Clogston.
"Yes, yes, of course, thank you so much for jogging my memory," said Froc. "However, if we were to have a record, that is what it would show. Bob?"
"Ladies," said General Kzupi, flashing the squad a glossy smile. "And you too, of course, Lieutenant Blouse, and you too, er..." he looked quizzically at Maladict, who stared straight back "...sir?" General Kzupi, though, was not to be derailed by an eyeballing vampire, even one that couldn't stand still. "Firstly, may I offer on behalf of all of us, I think, our thanks for the incredible job you have done? A splendid effort. But, sadly, the world we live in has certain... rules, you understand? To be frank, the problem here is not that you are women. As such, that is. But you persist in maintaining that you are. You see? We can't have that."
"You mean if we put on uniforms again, and swaggered around belching and saying 'har har, fooled you all' that would be all right?" said Polly.
"Perhaps I could help?" said yet another voice. Froc looked along the table.
"Ah, Brigadier Stoffer. Yes?"
"This is all rather damn silly, general - "
