“I, um… was told you wanted to speak to me?”
“Thank you for coming. I would like to temporarily appoint you as a law officer in the hopes that you can provide insight into legal matters. I know this is sudden, but it is a very important commission and you are the only person I can ask.”
As the man gulps, I calmly explain what I need.
“I would like you to create an official document.”
“Huh? Wh-what kind of document did you have in mind?” he asks nervously.
My face is serious as I continue. “An exemption of sorts. I need you to prepare something to cover us against the very real chance of later prosecution regarding certain measures that will be carried out under extremely unusual and limited circumstances.”
I speak circuitously, not wanting to state outright that I expect him to create a document permitting flying under the influence. Tanya’s bizarre behavior is enough for the captain to assume something serious is afoot. Of course, the officer strives to hide his shock, even as his eyes betray him.
I remain silent for a time out of awkwardness until finally, the captain, as if resigned, asks for more details in a pleading tone. “A-and what kind of exemption are we talking about, specifically?”
I look away for a moment, unwilling to answer directly. Ordering my subordinates to drive drunk is already a very serious issue. Once I tell him I want a legal exemption for that, he will surely think I have gone mad. Clearly, there are other risks involved with drunk driving during combat flight. I am teetering dangerously close to violating Tanya’s duty of care as a good manager!
“Colonel? I’m sorry, but…,” he begins, “…do you think you could answer me?” he asks, his tone slightly pointed. I cannot remain silent any longer.
“I cannot shirk my responsibilities—that is why I am asking this of you. These are highly unusual circumstances, but…”
“I believe I am prepared. Please tell me.”
Okay. I answer him.
“Flying under the influence.”
“I… What? Sorry, what did you say?”
“I understand you must feel conflicted. Yes, flying under the influence. It’s despicable, I know. But we have no choice now but to violate the rules. You must find the idea abhorrent, but I need you to create this document for me. Consider it an order, if that helps.”
“You—flying under the influence… What? This is all about flying under the influence?” the man repeats, his shock evident.
“Yes, exactly.” The law is strict. Plastering a look of remorse on my face, I try to show how much I would prefer not to do this. However, I need that document. “Indeed, this is not a joke or a prank. I want to permit flying while under the influence, as an official military measure, as a remedy for the extreme exhaustion that everyone is feeling. These are battlefield measures taken only under exceptional circumstances, but you may indicate, if you like, that they were taken by decision of the Eastern Chief Inspector.”
“Wait. So then, this isn’t about, like, a massacre or something? Or about disposing of prisoners of war…?”
What? I stare openly into the captain’s face.
Why would it have anything to do with something like that? Have we been at war so long that even the civilians, with normal private sector experience, have started to go loopy?
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I shout suddenly, in an angry tone. “Just because I’m willing to allow my men to drink and fly doesn’t mean I would stoop to anything so low! Rules must be respected! You understand, you’ve got to understand, I mean it’s not like I’m doing this because I want to,” I ramble, speaking quickly.
“Atrocious or not, we must handle this according to the rules! I am only allowing, in my judgment as commander, under extremely unusual circumstances, due to militarily urgent pressures of necessity, and with no reasonable substitutes available…and considering precedents of soldiers being allowed to persist with combat operations after using alcohol as a substitute for painkillers…for an exemption within the limited scope appropriate to our goals in terms of on-site discretion! There is nothing here clearly prohibited by military order! Such cases are permitted, are they not?!”
“Um, Colonel, I’m sorry, but if you already understand that, couldn’t you have made the document yourself?” he asks.
Perhaps he doesn’t wish to be involved in something so heinous, but I have no choice.
“I understand your hesitation, but unfortunately, military regulations require it.”
“Does this really rise to a matter of military regulation?”
“Of course it does,” I say, nodding earnestly. “Regulations—legal interpretation—are the purview of legal specialists. Thus, exceptions and exemptions must also conform to regulatory procedure.” Only by following procedure can Tanya ensure that her individual responsibility remains as limited as possible. This degree of extra effort thus falls within the realm of necessary expenditures.
“I cannot arbitrarily permit a thing like this on my own. A legal specialist must be consulted, as overlooking any angle would constitute negligence. I can answer my own questions until the cows come home, but how will that satisfy regulatory requirements?”
I turn my eyes to him and ask if he understands. The man nods once.
“Okay. Well, I don’t think there are any issues.”
“Good. Then consider this approval for flying under the influence as a strictly temporary measure, as necessary for operations under the authority recognized by the Eastern Chief Inspector. Prepare the document to that effect.”
Oh, and one more thing: “Have it specify that responsibility for the relevant act falls to the relevant agent.” So the order is tied to the position rather than to me personally. A small ploy, but there’s no telling what such tricks can do. Tanya will take whatever steps she needs to insulate herself. I have my pride, after all, as a Homo economicus.
“Um, Colonel? Regarding the official document and order, should I…”
“Under the circumstances, anything will do. The details do not matter. Just arrange it so that all three airborne mage divisions are permitted to drink. That is the only thing I care about.”
The captain nods in understanding, though his face looks tired. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but it’s kind of farcical, isn’t it?”
I nod. “Maybe it would have been faster to just turn a blind eye, but rules are rules.”
“Meaning that rules should be obeyed?” he asks dubiously.
I shrug lightly. “This is why procedure is looked down upon, I suppose. But procedural correctness is valuable—even if that doesn’t mean much coming from me at the moment.”
I find myself overcome by an odd feeling. How strange it is to be confronted with the need to consider what is correct in the midst of carnage. I soon snap out of it.
This is just another elegant piece of evidence that God, or whatever He is, did not create this world with divine intelligence. That is all. Regardless, on this day in the East, a portion of the Imperial aerial mage divisions have now been given permission to fly while under the influence.