Monstrous Regiment

follow…” he said.
    “Would you agree that sometimes a country’s system is so out of date that it’s only the outsiders that can see the need for wholesale change?” said de Worde.
    He smiled. Lieutenant Blouse did not.
    “Just a point to ponder, maybe,” said de Worde. “Er…since you wish to tell the world of your defiance, would you object if my colleague takes your picture?”
    Blouse shrugged. “If it gives you any satisfaction,” he said. “It’s an Abomination, of course, but these days it’s hard to find something that isn’t. You must tell the world, Mr. de Worde, that Borogravia won’t lie down. We will not give in. We will fight on. Write that down in your little notebook, please. While we can stand, we will kick!”
    “Yes, but, once again, may I implore you to—”
    “Mr. de Worde, you have I am sure heard the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword?”
    De Worde preened a little. “Of course, and I—”
    “Do you want to test it? Take your picture, sir, and then my men will escort you back to your road.”
    Otto Chriek stood up and bowed to Blouse. He unslung his picture box.
    “Zis vill only take vun minute,” he said.
    It never does. But Polly watched in horrified fascination as Otto took picture after picture of Lieutenant Blouse in a variety of what the lieutenant thought were heroic poses. It is a terrible thing to see a man trying to jut out a chin he does not, in fact, have.
    “Very impressive,” said de Worde. “I just hope you live to see it in my paper, sir.”
    “I shall look forward to it with the keenest anticipation,” said Blouse. “And now, Perks, please go along with the sergeant and put these two gentlemen back on their way.”
    Otto sidled up to Polly as they walked back to the cart.
    “I need to tell you somezing about your vampire,” he said.
    “Oh yes?”
    “You are a friend of his?” said Otto.
    “Yes,” said Polly. “Is something wrong?”
    “Zere is a problem…”
    “He’s got twitchy because he has run out of coffee?”
    “Alas, if only it was zat simple.” Otto looked awkward. “You have to understand zat ven a vampire forgoes…the bvord, zere is a process zat ve call transference? Zey force Zemselves to desire somesing else? For me zis was not painful. I crave the perfection of light and shade! Pictures are my life! But your friend chose…coffee. And now he has none.”
    “Oh. I see.”
    “I vunder if you do. It probably seemed so sensible to him. It is a human craving, and no one minds if you say, as it might be, ‘I am dying for a cup of coffee,’ or ‘I’d kill for a cup of coffee.’ But vizout coffee, he vill, I am afraid…revert. You understand, zis is very difficult for me to talk about…” Otto trailed off.
    “By ‘revert’ you mean…?”
    “First vill come mild delusions, I zink. A psychic susceptibility to all kinds of influences from who knows vhere, and vampires can hallucinate so stronkly zat zey can be contagious. I zink zat is happening already. He vill become…erratic. Zis may last for several days. And zen his conditioning vill break and he vill be, vunce again, a true vampire. No more Mr. Nice Coffee Drinker Guy.”
    “Can’t I do anything to help him?”
    Otto reverentially laid his picture-box in the back of the cart, and turned to her.
    “You can find him some coffee, or…you can keep a vooden stake and a big knife ready. You vould be doink him a favor, believe me.”
    “I can’t do that!”
    Otto shrugged. “Find someone who vill.”

    “He is amazing!” said de Worde as the cart rocked back down through the trees. “I know the clacks is against your religion, but he seems to understand all about it!”
    “Like I said, sir, he assesses stuff,” said Jackrum, beaming. “Mind like a razor.”
    “He was talking about clacks algorithms that the companies are only just now investigating!” said de Worde. “That department he was talking about—”
    “Ah, I can see nothing gets past you, sir,” said Jackrum. “Very hush-hush. Can’t talk about it!”
    “To be frank, Sergeant, I’d always assumed that Borogravia was, well…backward.”
    Jackrum’s smile was waxy and bright. “If we seem to be a long way back, sir, it’s only so’s we can get a good runup.”
    “You know, Sergeant, it’s a great shame to see a mind like that wasted,” said de Worde as the cart lurched in a rut. “This is not an age of heroes and famous last stands and death-or-glory charges.