"Sure, Senator Snieff's sister." said the general, nodding.
"Bit of a sourpuss, unless she's changed since I met her. And a full-bore nutcase on the environment I'll give her one thing, though-she takes her job seriously. My God, she takes it seriously. I wouldn't think the likes of Jester could sweet-talk her out of throwing the book at him."
"Exactly right, sir," said Sparrowhawk. "The senator got her the job, of course, and nobody's got the guts to stand in her way, even though she's a bit extreme even for the agency."
"'A bit extreme' is one hell of an understatement," said General Blitzkrieg. "I met her at a dinner party in the senator's home, and the poor fellow who had to sit next to her looked like he wanted to go home and snort some insecticide. I think he must have done something to piss off the senator..."
"Yes, sir." said Sparrowhawk, wondering (not for the first time) who she'd managed to piss off to get the assignment as Blitzkrieg's adjutant. "As it happens, sir, there's a bit more to the story. Inspector Snieff happens to affect the higher-ups in her own agency the same way as she does everyone else."
"And serves 'em right," growled the general. Then his brow raised a fraction of an inch. "You mean she's too screwy even for the damned tree huggers? I'm surprised they can tell the difference!"
Sparrowhawk patiently explained. "General, the higher ups in the AEIOU may be officially required to act as if they care about other planets' environments, but they quite naturally care a good bit more about their own careers.
Most of them are political appointees. And generating terabytes of bad will because of literal-minded enforcement of unpopular policies isn't good for anybody's career. Letting Chief Inspector Snieff run around the galaxy unchecked would be a recipe for disaster."
"Anybody can see that," snorted Blitzkrieg. Then his eyes opened wide, and he said, "Wait a minute. This is starting to sound familiar. She's too crazy to give any real responsibility, and too well connected to kick out..."
"Yes, sir, just like Captain Jester," said Sparrowhawk. "So they put her in charge of a special team, with a couple of levelheaded veterans to make sure she can't do anything irreversible, and with Barky, the Environmental Dog, their biggest media star, to give the team a positive PR profile. In a sense, it's their version of Omega Company. And while she's nominally the commander, it's just a sham. And the system seems to work. That Barky is apparently every bit as smart as he is cute."
"God save me from cute," said the general, with a groan. He pounded a fist on the comer of his desk. "Between Omega Company and the Snieff woman, the Zenobia operation should have been declared an environmental disaster. And now it's a photo op, with Jester and that fleabag hamming it up. If I see any more cute for a week, I swear I'm going to be sick."
"Yes, sir," said Sparrowhawk. "Shall I send in your morning appointments?"
"You might as well, though I'll be damned if I'm in much of a mood for it," said Blitzkrieg. "Who's on the list?"
Sparrowhawk looked at her clipboard. "Mrs. Biffwycke-Snerty, for the Retired Officers', Refugees', and Orphans' Relief Organization. She wants you to give a speech at their fund-raising affair."
"Fine, send her in," said Blitzkrieg. "Always glad to help out the good old veterans."
And never reluctant to spout off in front of a captive audience, thought Sparrowhawk. She nodded and left the office.
A moment later the door opened to admit a portly matron, a familiar figure at charity balls. "Oh, General, 1 do hope you'll be able to address the RORORO fund-raiser next month," she warbled, in a voice at least an octave above her natural range. "We have such a wonderful program planned, and you would be just the perfect one to speak for the Legion."
"Why, I'd be delighted," said the general, rising to extend a hand. "There's nothing closer to my heart than the welfare of the retired officers. I'll tell my adjutant to make it a firm date."
"Oh, I'm so pleased," said Mrs. Biffwycke-Snerty.
"Now we have something for all our clients. You for the officers, and Mr. Vodoh-Deo, who's done just so much for the Jivan refugees-and you'll never guess whom we've persuaded to come for the orphans!"
"I haven't a clue," said Blitzkrieg, already mildly annoyed that he wasn't to be the sole attraction.
"It was such a coup!" said the socialite. "Priscilla Ann - Hoglinton just happens to know the executive producer of the IGT network, and I told her we just had to have someone for the poor children, and she went in and talked to him, and you know how tough these producers can be, but sure enough, Priscilla Ann just prevailed upon him, I swear I don't know how, and he said he'd do everything he could for RORORO. And now we've got just the perfect celebrity to make this the best fund-raiser ever!"
"And who would that be?" said Blitzkrieg, throwing caution to the winds.
"Why, Barky, the Environmental Dog, of course! He's just so cute..." Mrs. Biffwycke-Snerty chirped.
General Blitzkrieg's wounded bellow was audible three buildings away.
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