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The Reapers are instruments built to last. Cablelike muscles are fixed to a skeleton as light as ceramic and strong as high-tensile steel. They're strong enough to take apart a car without tools, and can run faster than a horse from the time the sun goes down to dawn. They wear heavy robes and cowls of bullet-absorbing material. Daylight is not deadly to either them or the Kurians, though it interferes with the link between puppet and master, and obscures lifesign, the ethereal emanations created by vital aura that the avatars use to home in on prey. So the Reapers restrict their dark purposes to the sunless hours.
Like the night David Valentine came in for his interview with a vampire.
* * * *
"Have a seat, Mr. Knox le Sain," the Reaper hissed. It had a dry, menacing voice, like old bones grinding against each other. Its skin had all the life and animation of a rubber mask; its heavy robes had a faint mustiness, but a sharper smell-like hospital disinfectant-came from the sleeve holes and cowl. Piss-colored eyes, as cold and unblinking as a lizard's, fixed on him. The Reaper's gaze escorted him into the room.
"Colonel Knox Le Sain, my lord," Valentine corrected, sitting in the armless chair across from evil. The presence of a Reaper made the everyday motion into a fall. It was poised, still, and every instinct in Valentine's gut told him that it would spring into action, a praying mantis going after an unwary fly. He wondered how many fearful tells could be read on his face, and tried to assume the complacency of one who is used to conversation with a Reaper.
"That remains to be decided, do you know to whom you are speaking?" The Reaper's face had all the expression of an Easter Island monolith.
"I haven't had the privilege of your lordship's acquaintance."
"I can handle introductions," Xray-Tango broke in. "Le Sain, you're in the presence of the governor of New Columbia, Lord Mu-Kur-Ri. You understand how this"-blink-blink-bliiink-"errr, works?"
"I know I'm speaking to his lordship's vehicle for interacting with us. At least that's how it was explained to me."
"You're nervous, le sain." The Reaper used a quiet monotone, so Valentine wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.
"Put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn't you be?"
"We are beyond emotion, you need not be frightened, we simply wish to thank you for your service in our recent flooding, had the warehouses and their stores been lost, our preparations would have been delayed, it is time for this territory to be pacified, once and for all. it has already taken far too long, one concern remains."
Sometimes the Kurians liked to toy with their food. Valentine wondered if the ax was just slow to fall in this case, or if the creature was speaking the truth.
"What concern?" Valentine asked. He tried to lower his lifesign, worried that the Kurians could use it as a lie detector of some sort. He imagined jamming all his fear into a blue bag he could reduce to the size of a marble that he could carry about in his pocket.
"The origins of your ghost commission, our cousins in Louisiana do not care to cooperate with us in tracing you. Certain inconsistencies need to be explained."
Valentine tried not to react at the word "ghost," his code name. "Guilty. I'm not a colonel. I was a captain once, but I got busted back to the ranks. Got involved with the wrong man's daughter. I heard you needed men fast. Figured it would be a chance at a new start, fresh ground."
"Sort of a Foreign Legion, Le Sain?" Xray-Tango said. "Not a bad idea. They've got one of those on the Mexican border with California. From what I hear it's a success."
"The Aztlan Rangers do not concern us in the Trans-Mississippi, General, tell me, Le Sain, how are you at following orders? Do you put your ambition ahead of your lord's trust?"
"My main ambition was to get out of the swamp. Then find a position where there was a chance of promotion. Done and done. You've already shown yourself hell-and-gone better man their lordships in Louisiana and Natchez. Food and uniforms are both an improvement up here. You said something about a reward?"
"We shall get to that, but where are my manners, colonel? General, have some food brought in."
Xray-Tango left, "he is an efficient officer," Mu-Kur-Ri's caped mouthpiece said, "he carries out orders intelligently, you would do wise to learn from him, in all things save one. He is a blade lacking an edge."
"Meaning?"
"He is shy of the hard decisions that come with a man of his position and responsibilities, at times, to keep a machine running smoothly, worn-out parts must be replaced, do you think you could do better?"
Valentine shook his head. "No. I've shot a few men in the back, but I'm not much at stabbing them there. Running a command of this size isn't in the cards; I don't have the know-how." Valentine smiled. "At least, not now."
"Then you have the spine to do what is necessary in our-service?"
"Try me," Valentine said.
A soldier knocked and entered, bearing a tray of sandwiches and milk, carefully averting his eyes. Xray-Tango followed him in, carrying a coffeepot and a bottle filled with amber fluid.
"Sandwiches are all we keep handy here, Le Sain. I thought a toast might be in order, to welcome him to our command."
"We too wish to join your repast."
The soldier set down the tray, almost bowling Xray-Tango out of the way in his hurry to make it out the door. He mumbled an apology under his breath and a promise to look for dessert.
