Chronicles of the Invaders 1: Conquest Read Online Free PDF Page B

protect us.”
    McGill bowed his head; Lord Andrus’s words had hit home. Major attacks on the occupying forces were growing more frequent in Edinburgh, although Glasgow was worse: there were housing estates on the outskirts of the city, wellsprings of rebellion and vicious dissent, that even the Galateans refused to police.
    “There will be no relaxation of the travel restrictions for now,” said Lord Andrus. Then, remembering his own reputation for diplomacy, added: “We’ll review the situation in three months’ time. But I warn you: if the attack on Birdoswald represents the beginning of a new terrorist campaign, you can look forward to repression that will make the early days of the invasion seem like a dream state. You can pass that on to the rebels from me.”
    McGill started to object, but Lord Andrus interrupted him.
    “Don’t take me for a fool, Mr. McGill. I could have you tortured until you decide to share your knowledge of the Resistance. The only reason I don’t do so is that I’d prefer some channels of communication with the Resistance to remain open, and I dislike unnecessary violence. Increasingly, though, my voice is struggling to make itself heard among those who think that we have been far too tolerant. If the violence continues, I won’t be able to hold them back for much longer. You may have no love for the Galateans or the Military, but we are ordered, disciplined soldiers. We respond only to provocation, and fight to defend ourselves. Troublesome populations tend to invite the attentions of far more brutal forces.”
    Syl knew that her father was referring to the Securitats. They were the Illyri secret police, part of the Diplomatic Corps, and answered only to Grand Consul Gradus, the head of the Corps. The Military had no control over them. It was the Securitats who had been responsible for organizing the destruction of Rome.
    There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, and moments later her father appeared in the doorway, herding McGill ahead of him, an almost comically round presence compared with the tall, aristocratic figure of Lord Andrus.
    Her father was sixty, but fit and strong, with few signs of aging. The life span of the Illyri was longer than that of humans, thanks to gene therapy and organ replacements, routinely extending to a hundred and twenty Earth years or more, so Lord Andrus was only into his middle age. His military record was impeccable, and his experience of battle and conquest ensured that he was respected by the army and, if truth be told, somewhat feared by the Diplomats. Even the Diplomats’ leader, Grand Consul Gradus, who lived by the motto that “Armies conquer, but Diplomats rule,” was known to be wary of angering Andrus, although he still hated him. The reasons for their enmity could be boiled down to one simple difference between the two Illyri: Gradus was cruel; Andrus was not. Nevertheless, in Gradus’s ideal universe, the Military would wipe out all resistance in conquered territories and then retreat to bind its wounds while the Diplomats reaped the spoils. In fact he would have preferred it if the Military were entirely under his control, just another arm of the Diplomatic Corps.
    But it was Gradus who had supported her father’s appointment to his current position, despite the objections of many of the Grand Consul’s own staff. Curiously, at least three-quarters of the Illyri governors on Earth were Military officers, and the remainder had recently retired from service. Over dinner one evening, Syl had questioned her father as to why this was.
    “The humans call it a ‘poisoned chalice,’ he replied. “In the Military, it is known as a ‘dark command.’ It means that what appears to be a blessing may well prove to be a curse. Gradus wants the Military to fail here. If we fail, he and the Diplomats can take over. Gradus is no fool, Syl. This conquest of Earth is very different from any of our other previous imperial adventures. We