The Forest at the Edge of the World(17)
The captain’s mouth twitched until carefully selected words finally came out. “The Administrators are still new—it’s been only two years—so they’re still trying to resolve the many problems left by the kings and their neglect. Change comes slowly, and that can be good. I do, however, have faith they are, indeed, acting in the best interest of the world so . . . yes.”
Mahrree had started smiling halfway through his stumbling, diplomatic speech.
“It took you a little while to get to that ‘yes,’ Captain,” she noted some laughter from the crowd. “But considering the past relationships between the Army of Idumea and the kings, and now the Administrators, I would have imagined you might have a more firm judgment by now.”
Some in the audience ‘oohed’ in sympathy for him.
He had trapped himself and had to loosen the grip of his words. He analyzed her, seemingly searching for more than an escape route. To avoid his steady gaze, Mahrree tried to focus on the horizontal scar above his eye again.
“It’s very hard to judge something so new, Miss Peto. And it is also unfair to judge something until you see how it responds in different situations.” He was sliding out of his trap. “Would you feel comfortable with me evaluating you and how you think after this one brief encounter?” His smile was most disarming. No wonder he was a soldier.
“It is hard to judge accurately, Captain. I agree.”
Some in the audience whistled in disapproval.
Mahrree tossed them a reassuring glance. She wasn’t finished with this officer.
Hardly.
“But we must make some kind of initial judgment, in every situation, to assure our safety and create a basis for evaluation. Then we must modify that judgment as new information arises. I made a judgment about you the moment I saw you.”
She thought she saw something like pleasure race across his face.
“And that judgment has changed many times in the course of our discussion.”
She said it sweetly, but his eyes looked almost pained.
“I now have another evaluation of you, Captain, but I don’t think the time’s right to share it. I have yet to see you prove yourself.”
Applause and even some laughter scattered through the crowd. The captain squared his back and stood a little taller. Mahrree hadn’t realized until then that she didn’t even come up to his shoulders.
His very broad, sturdy shoulders, the influence of her teenagers pointed out.
“I intend to prove myself, very soon. I look forward to it,” he announced.
“You’re going to prove yourself to us? How progressive of Idumea,” she sniggered, “they’re now even sending us entertainment.”
Several in the audience joined her in dubious laughter.
Admirably, the captain didn’t even blink at the ridicule. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by your attitude against progress, Miss Peto. And as you know, Chairman Mal is all about progress.”
The villagers looked at her in nervous expectation.
She knew about the Chairman’s focus on progress. She also knew the captain was trying to show he sided with the Administrators, which would nudge her to some position opposite.
“I’m wary of what some people claim is progress, Captain Shin,” she clarified. “Not every edict that came down from the kings was progressive, as I’m sure you’ll agree. And I’m not yet convinced that every suggestion from the Administrators will be progressive. Different, yes. Helpful? Ah, that takes time to evaluate.”
“Be careful now, Miss Peto,” Captain Shin simpered. “Someone listening might think you’re not fully behind the progressive measures of the Administrators.”
Mahrree squared her narrow shoulders. “Why? Do you have the power to create a killing squad to silence me?” She knew exactly what her boldness would do, and she enjoyed watching it happen.
The audience tittered in loud nervousness, while a few men shifted their gazes towards the captain, their glares hardening.
The captain’s eyebrows shot upwards at her audacity, and she memorized the stunned look on his face. Three of those in a debate, and she would win the evening.
“Miss Peto,” he said earnestly, “I’ve never been involved in a killing squad, nor would I want to. Killing squads were done away with by the High General under Querul the Fourth, and the Army of Idumea has been a peaceful, protective service ever since. But Miss Peto, let’s avoid the emotional tangents you’re employing and get to the heart: what’s your definition of progress? Obviously not something that’s just different, then.”
“No,” she agreed, grudgingly impressed by his ability to recognize her tactic to overturn his line of insinuations.