"Sorry I'm late, General," the young man muttered, as he sat down. "Anna-ah-had a bit of trouble with her uniform."

Under the circumstances, that was perhaps the worst excuse he could have come up with. The entire staff in the bunker-Belisarius and Maurice included-burst into laughter.

Calopodius flushed. As the laughter continued, the flush deepened until he was almost literally red-faced. But the expression on his face also became subtly transmuted into something that was ultimately more smug than chagrinned. Most young men, after all-even ones raised in Constantinople's haughty aristocratic circles-are not actually embarrassed by having a reputation for being able to keep their wives in their beds, and happy to be there.

As the laughter faded away, Luke and Illus came into the bunker. They were both smiling, too, as they took their accustomed places on chairs near the entrance.

"Accustomed," at least, for Luke. Illus was still settling into his new role as one of Calopodius' staff. Officially, he was a bodyguard; just as, officially, Luke was a valet. In practice, Calopodius used either or both of them in whatever capacity seemed needed. Fortunately, the two men seemed to get along well enough.

"Right," Calopodius said briskly. He turned his head toward the scribe to his right. "Mark, I think we should-"

The radio began its short-and-long buzzing noises. The noise was different from the typical click-clack made by the telegraph, when it received an incoming message, but had a basic similarity. Aide-like Link-had not tried to design anything more complex than a spark gap radio system. So the radio used the same "Morse code" that the telegraph did.

The Malwa used the same code, except when they were transmitting encrypted messages. That was not really so odd, since that code was the common one in the history of the universe that had produced both Aide and Link.

"-start with the dispatches-"

– bzzz-bz-bzzz-bzzz-bz-bz-bzzz "-regarding…" He trailed off, his head swiveling toward the radio. Calopodius, unlike Belisarius, could translate Morse code instantly. It was by now a language he was as fluent in as he was in Greek or Latin.

– bzzz-bz-bz-buzz-bz-bzzz-bz-bz-bzzz "General…" Calopodius rose to his feet.

Belisarius, frowning, tried to interpret the messages. There was something…

Yes! Yes! Yes! Aide was doing the equivalent of shouting. It's starting!

What's starting? I can't Be quiet. I'll translate for you, starting from the beginning.

Calopodius was translating the same words aloud, for everyone else in the bunker.

"I will be damned," murmured Maurice, shaking his head. "You were right all along. I never really thought you were."

"Calopodius!" Belisarius half-shouted, waving his hand in summons. "Let someone else translate. I need your assistance. Now."

He moved toward the radio. "Over here." The blind young officer came away from the table and followed him. So did Maurice.

Calopodius was not the only one in the bunker who was fluent in Morse. One of his scribes had picked up the translation almost without a pause.

"He's not fooling around, is he?" said Maurice.

"Smart," said Belisarius. "Very smart. Calopodius, Antonina's still in Barbaricum with Ousanas, isn't she?"

"Yes. They weren't going to start up the Indus until tomorrow or the day after."

"Good. Send her a message immediately telling her to stay there until she hears from me. Better use the telegraph rather than the radio, though. No reason to let the Malwa overhear-"

"They won't anyway," came Justinian's voice from the entrance. Belisarius turned and saw the former emperor moving into the bunker. "Don't you pay attention to anything I tell you?"

He didn't seem more than mildly aggrieved, though. Justinian always enjoyed explaining how clever he was. When it came to artisanship, anyway, if not politics.

"I designed this system so that we wouldn't be intercepted."

Lousy old braggart, grumbled Aide. He didn't design the system. I did. He just followed my instructions. But he's right. The position and length of the antennas-everything-were set up so we could send signals without the Malwa overhearing us as long as we do it right. They'll intercept anything we receive, of course. No way to prevent that. But we can transmit in secret.

"Explain," Belisarius commanded. "Explain clearly, so a dimwit like me can understand it."

Justinian snorted. "Such unwonted modesty! It's like this, my not-so-stupid general." Justinian began moving his hands, as if he were shaping a cat's cradle with no string. "With directional radio, the signal has two strong… call them beams. The strongest, by far, is the forward signal. But there's also a back signal that can often be picked up. The side signals, however-the lobes-are undetectable."

By any technology either we or the Malwa have, anyway, Aide agreed.

Belisarius thought about it. "In other words, any signal I sent to Damodara in Bharakuccha would probably be picked up by Link."

"Yes. The monster's radio tower, our radio installation, and the Malwa tower in Bharakuccha are almost in a direct line. Not quite, but close enough that we don't want to risk it. Barbaricum, on the other hand-"

"Is off to the side, yes. Far enough?"

Yes.

"Yes," said Justinian simultaneously. "Link won't hear anything you send to Barbaricum. And they, in turn-"

But Belisarius had already figured it out. "I understand. We can't signal Damodara in secret, but Barbaricum can with their radio. So we set up a triangle of communications-and the only part of the leg Link can pick up is what we receive. But not what we send."

Yes.

"Yes."

Belisarius scratched his chin. While they'd been talking, the radio had kept up its beeping and whooping.

Bring me current, Aide, while I think. What's Damodara saying now?

Most of it's pretty pointless, in my opinion. A lot of grandiose declarations about the sterling character of the Ye-tai-talk about a pile of nonsense-and even more stuff-really grisly, this part-about the penalties to be meted out to mahaveda priests and mahamimansa.

The jewel sounded more than a little miffed. I don't understands why he's taking up so much precious radio time just to specify what order in which to tear off their limbs and what animals are permitted to feed on the corpses. That last business started with jackals and he's been working his way down from there. Right now he's talking about how beetles should be used to finish up the odd bits and ends. Do you think he's a sadist, maybe? That could be a problem.

Belisarius chuckled. Even after all these years, Aide-who was vastly more intelligent than humans when it came to many things-could still fumble at the simplest emotional equations.