this, should you elect to remain in the service, we couldn't possibly return you to the regular Corps."
"Oh?" said Finn.
"Since you intend to re-up, Captain, your commission is in the Time Commandos now. From now on, it's just adjustment missions for you. More pay, more perks, more risk. It's a highly irregular unit, but from what I know of you, I believe you'll find it to your liking. In the Commandos, there's room for mavericks like you."
"We'll see," said Finn.
"Well, if you want to spend the rest of your life laying your ass on the line, as Hunter would say, it's okay with me," said Lucas. "Count me out. It's back to 2613 and the easy life for me."
"And you're more than entitled," said Bannerman. "But if you should ever change your mind—"
"I won't."
"—there'll still be a place for you. You can re-enlist in the Commandos with the rank of captain anytime."
"Don't hold your breath," said Lucas.
Bannerman smiled. "I won't. At any rate, you men have some R&R coming, courtesy of the Temporal Corps. Six months paid vacation, anytime, anyplace."
"No strings?" said Lucas.
"None, Mr. Priest. You have carte blanche."
"It'll cost you, then."
Bannerman grinned. "We can afford it."
Chapter 14
Andre woke up to the sound of music, but it was music unlike anything that she had ever heard. The recorder did not sound strange to her, but the instruments of the symphony orchestra that supported it in the concerto by Bartok both mesmerized and frightened her. Her fear and lack of understanding were compounded by the fact that the sound came from all around her, yet she saw no musicians. Had she been transported to some faery land? Had she died?
She sat up slowly, then stood upon the floor, looking all around her. Where was the music coming from? What strange instruments produced such sounds?
She was in a woodsman's cabin, but this was the abode of no ordinary woodsman. This cabin had a floor and shutters. . . . She opened one of the shutters and saw that it was night outside. Night! And yet it was bright as daylight in the cabin. It was warm, although she could see no fire. In the center of the room, there stood some strange black apparatus with an appendage that stretched out of its top and through the ceiling. It squatted on four legs like some evil gnome. It was from this black thing that the warmth emanated. She reached out and touched it, then jerked her hand back quickly. It had burned her. It was like touching fire. She backed away, moving toward the bed once more. She sat down, mystified.
Suddenly, she moved quickly toward the door and flung it open, thinking to escape the evil place. The sorcerer stood before her.
"Going somewhere?" Hunter said.
She backed into the room. "I am damned, then," she said softly.
Hunter raised his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"
"I have escaped from the clutches of one wizard only to fall into the hands of another," she said. "This is what comes of serving the devil's own. There will be no escape for me. My soul is forfeit. What do you want of me? Am I to suffer your revenge for killing the other wizard? I do not even know how that happened. I cannot think. It is all too much to reason out. Do with me what you will and make an end of it."
"Are you finished?"
"I have nothing more to say."
"Well, that's good. Sit down. Please."
She sat.
"First of all," said Hunter, "your soul is not in peril, at least, not from me. I serve neither God nor the devil, I serve myself. If you prefer to think of me as a sorcerer, go right ahead, I won't stop you. It so happens that I'm not a sorcerer, or a wizard, or a warlock, or anything else except a man. I realize that may be hard for you to accept right now, but try."
"But the magic—"
"Is not magic. At least, not in the sense that you understand it. To some savage who has never seen a suit of armor, a knight would seem to be a devilish apparition. Imagine, if you can, that you have never seen an armored knight. That you know nothing of the craft involved in making armor, that you know nothing of its properties. Having lived in a world in which a knight has never been seen, might you not assume, upon seeing one, that it was not even a human being you were seeing, but some terrifying creature whose flesh was metal animated by black magic? Well, as uncomplimentary as it may seem, in this case, I am that knight and you are that savage. What I do seems like magic to you because you do not understand it and you know nothing of the craft involved. I merely have more knowledge than you have."