by S T Branton
“Excuse me,” the man at the forefront of the squad called out. He signaled his troops, and they came to a standstill fifteen feet from me. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’re not allowed to be in this vicinity. Can we help you get back to somewhere?” He took one hand off his gun and motioned for me to move. “Come this way, please. Away from the building.”
I held my hands up to show that I was unarmed. “My bad,” I answered, stepping toward them. “I must’ve gotten lost on my way to the can.”
The men had lights mounted on top of their guns that drenched their surroundings in piercing light. The first thing I noticed was that these soldiers weren’t as well put together as others I’d seen in the fort, at least not in the uniform department. One of them wore a pair of boots clearly designed for hiking instead of war. I thought about mentioning it but decided not to. I knew as well as anyone that times were hard as hell right now, and beggars couldn’t be choosers. At the moment, we were all beggars.
The leader chuckled. “No worries. I know the fort can be pretty confusing for new people.” He smiled. “For future reference, though, all the bathrooms are on the inside.”
I laughed like it was funny. “Right. Thanks for the tip.” His fatigues were faded and a little baggy on his frame. I wondered if the name stitched over the pocket was really his.
“C’mon,” he said. “We’ll escort you back. You can ask any of the guys inside how to get to the john.”
I thanked them and said I appreciated their help. Mostly, I appreciated them not shooting me. We returned to the fort in amicable silence. It was interesting that I had been thwarted by a whole contingent of security, but if the general had told the truth about that building containing government secrets, the extensive presence of guards made some sense. Maybe they had equipment hidden away in there—a satellite feed or some high-tech radio gear.
The troop left me at the front of the fort, and instead of going inside right away, I turned to the gate, intending to make a quick perimeter patrol like I’d gotten in the habit of doing around our shabby forest camp. The gate was flanked by more guards, who stopped me before I even got close.
“No one’s allowed out right now,” they said.
“But—” I began.
The man shook his head. “Fort rules, ma’am. It’s for your own safety.” He was obviously not about to budge, and without my sword, I knew I couldn’t persuade him. I pressed my lips together and slunk back to the door, suppressing a surge of disappointment. The general had made such a big deal out of me when we first met, but he still penned me up with everyone else.
I resolved to ask him about it later. As it turned out, I got the chance much sooner than I anticipated.
Chapter Twenty
I turned down the passageway leading to my room, lost in thought about everything I had experienced during my ill-fated solo foray into the night. The sight of the figure standing ahead of me in the middle of the hall snapped me back to attention. Caught off guard, I froze midstride.
The general smiled. “A good evening to you, Vic. I hope I haven’t startled you.” He was as congenial as ever, standing with his shoulders back and his hands neatly folded in front of him. If it weren’t for the razor-sharp light in his eyes, he might’ve looked like everyone’s favorite uncle.
“General,” I said, nodding. The little voice in the back of my head wanted to ask him directly about Dan, but I bit my tongue, sensing it would not be the greatest idea. I didn’t want it to look like I had suspicions.
“I thought I would ask you to accompany me to my office for a private meeting,” he said, still smiling. “Two leaders merging their groups into a single faction inevitably have much to discuss. I think this meeting could end up mutually beneficial in a myriad of ways.”
I considered the offer, maintaining my poker face. It was late, an odd time for a one-on-one meeting. Then again, he was the head of an entire base, and he had been busy with Dan for hours. I couldn’t deny the possibility that this was the first free moment he had. And I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to him alone.
I forced a grin. “Sure. It never hurts to build your network.”
“Excellent.” He led me down a corridor accessed only through an electronically locked door. At the end stood another one, intricately carved and wooden instead of cold metal. The general unlocked it with a silver key, which he whisked out of sight the instant he was done using it. Pushing the ornate door open with one hand, he spread the other wide to encompass the grandeur of the room. “My study,” he intoned proudly. “We’ll talk here.”
His study was much, much nicer than any other room in the fort, including the common areas. The walls were paneled and polished to a shine. A large desk stood to one side, its surface neat as a pin. The wall behind it was adorned with a glass case displaying evidence of the General’s prestige—medals, certificates, and a few carefully framed photos.
None of the images featured the man himself. The ones propped up on the desk showed a dark-haired woman smiling as she embraced two cherubic children. This, I assumed, was his family, only he wasn’t included at all. Again, my brain tried to rationalize this away. Some dudes preferred to be behind the camera. Maybe he’d cropped himself out to look humble.
“Have a scotch.” The general stood at a portable bar cart with a bottle in his hand. He had already set out two glasses, and the mouth of the bottle hovered over one. He began to pour, and the amber liquid curled into the bottom of the glass. He gestured for me to take it while he poured another. “I propose a toast, to new beginnings.”
We clinked our glasses. “It’s a nice thought,” I said, “but I’d rather not speak too soon. We’ve only been here less than a day.”
“Ah, yes, but I’ll bet it’s been the safest day in recent memory.” His eyes sparkled “You have nothing to fear from within Fort Sigel, my dear. Our defenses are impenetrable, even to the foul beasts roaming the wild. You’re very lucky to have happened upon us.”
I took a sip of the scotch. It was smooth and incredibly strong. The heat of it left a trail down my throat. “How did you get here?” I asked him.
His laugh boomed out from his chest. “Me? I’ve always been here. Well, not always, I suppose. I was stationed overseas for a time, back when I was a much younger man. I enjoyed it immensely, and I was good enough at it that they blessed me with my own command.” A dreamy expression overtook his whole face, contrasting with the roughness of his features. “Those were my glory days, I tell you. Nothing but me, my boys, and the things we could carry on our backs.” He sighed. “Like all good things, too sweet to last. I got promoted to a desk job when I came back stateside. Lousy promotion, if you ask me, but it let me move up quickly. Now, I’m getting old, and they put me out to pasture in Fort Sigel.”
“Do you miss the more active work?” I asked, mostly to be polite.
“Years ago, I did. I missed it something fierce. It scratched an itch that doesn’t get satisfied by pushing papers. But as I said, I’m getting on in years, and I’ve learned to appreciate the value of an easy gig.” At this point, the laughter lost some of its boisterous mirth and turned dry. “That’s what this was, up until now.” The grin faltered and came back twice as strong. “But there’s no better place to be when all hell breaks loose. If need be, we could weather our way through nuclear Armageddon in here.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Really?” Despite the fort’s indisputable sturdiness, that claim felt like a stretch.
The general slapped the top of his desk for emphasis, making the family photos jump in their frames. “Didn’t I tell you this place was built as a haven against disaster?”
I glanced around. “Yeah, but what precautions are there, other than guards? We’re not dealing only with other humans out there.”
“That’s all been accounted for,” the man responded a little smugly. “Your concern is admirable but unwarranted in this case.” His tone suggested that he would have patted me on the head under d
ifferent circumstances. “Not to worry, Vic. Everyone in our care is perfectly safe. More so than the rest of the country, most likely. Your people should feel free to remain as long as they like and recover at their leisure. We won’t run out of space or supplies anytime soon.” He downed the rest of his scotch and set the drained glass on the desk.
“That’s very generous,” I said.
“It is the very least I can do to help my fellow man.” He puffed his chest out. “After all, Fort Sigel is a post-apocalyptic utopia. I owe it to humanity to share our good fortune.”
His unrelenting effervescence finally started to put me off a little. In the interest of politeness, I finished my drink in one strong gulp and placed the glass beside his on the desktop. “Thanks for the chat, General. You’ve certainly given me a lot to consider.”
“Consider nothing.” He had not stopped grinning. “The wisest course of action is to stay here, where no harm can possibly come to you. I strongly encourage you to set up a permanent base at Fort Sigel. Your people love it here. Give them a chance to be happy.”
I left the meeting with the vague but persistent impression that something was not right. The man had acted like he was trying to sell me a timeshare in the Poconos as if the Forgotten were all but nonexistent. His demeanor didn’t sit well with me at all. When I got back to my room, I paced beside the bare walls. “Marcus? What do you think?”
He is not trustworthy. No military leader worth his salt would act with that sort of cavalier disregard to the Forgotten threat. I fear that something is very wrong.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Me too. But I can’t put my finger on it yet. You think he could be Forgotten?”
The General? Impossible. I would have deduced his true nature immediately. He hesitated. That said, Forgotten have powers beyond the scope of my detection. It is possible that even my finely-honed senses cannot guarantee their absence.
“Take everything you say with a grain of salt.” I fell back on the bed, letting one arm drop across my eyes. “Got it.”
Unfortunately, yes. The well of Forgotten power has many hidden depths.
“Don’t we all,” I muttered. On my way toward a deep, hard-earned sleep, I thought of Luis sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, looking out the window. He had warned me not to trust anyone, and at the time, I thought he was merely a cynic.
Now, I wondered if he had the right idea after all.
Chapter Twenty-One
The sleep I got that night was less than ideal, full of tossing and turning and restless thoughts. If not for the strength of the nectar in my blood, I would’ve been dead on my feet the next morning. Still, I was glad to see the sun because I had a couple of important things to do.
Step one: find some coffee. If this fort really was a version of utopia, they would have goddamn coffee. That turned out to be easy. I smelled it as soon as I opened my door.
Step two: find Deacon St. Clare. I hadn’t seen him since leaving to take my shower, much like I had seen neither hide nor hair of Dan. My coffee cup in hand, I moved through the crowd in the mess hall, searching for broad shoulders filling out a suit. I also listened for a hint of his low, smooth voice, which I knew I could pick out from a mile away. Deacon was distinct from the general raggedness of Fort Sigel’s inhabitants. At least, he was to me.
Nonetheless, it took a while to find him in the breakfast rush. He sat by himself at a table off to the side, scanning the room over the rim of a mug. I dropped into a chair across from him. “Morning,” I said. “How’d you sleep?”
Deacon smiled. “Hey, Vic. I wondered where you ran off to. Get into anything interesting without me?”
I gave him a look. “I should ask you the same question. Or we could find Dan and ask him.”
His face grew somber. “Good idea. He’s been MIA since yesterday.” He scanned the room one more time and lowered his voice. “Listen, I have some serious misgivings about this place, but I can’t tell you why. I don’t have any solid reasons for it, only a weird, bad feeling about the way things are shaking out.”
“I’ve got proof,” I told him. “Sort of. Well, it’s better than nothing.”
Deacon’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward across the table. “Lay it on me. I’ll take anything you’ve got.”
I started by recounting the circumstances of the late-night meeting I had with the general. I told him about the man’s bizarre nonchalance and his supreme confidence in the fort’s security, even against the gods. I mentioned the strange family pictures without him in them, and I retold the miniature version of his life story. “Overseas, came back to a desk job, climbed the ladder, and got transferred to Fort Sigel after all that. He said it’s been pretty cushy until now.”
My companion shook his head. “I’d believe that last part, but anything before that sounds like pure bullshit to me. I’m not a soldier myself, but I’ve worked with plenty of them, and I know that’s not how the military works. You don’t simply get put on a desk or transferred to the command of a fort, especially not one this big. There are all kinds of internal processes for this stuff.” He stared into the depths of his mug. “He was lying. He must have been. But why?”
It was a damn good question, and it brought up others in my mind. I told Deacon about my attempt to case the secret government building out near the garden and being caught by a group of soldiers in hiking boots and fatigues that didn’t fit them. “They didn’t act like soldiers,” I said. “More like guys walking me home from school. I’m not sure if they have any formal training at all.”
“If they do, it’s not a lot,” Deacon said. “Have you seen how they hold their guns?” He bunched his arms up against his chest, mimicking a clutching motion. “I’ve never seen any self-respecting officer hold a gun like that.”
I nodded. “Even I wouldn’t hold a gun that way, and I fight with a sword.”
“Which we desperately need to get back,” Deacon said. “We gave our stuff up in good faith, and I think at the time, it was the right thing to do, but I don’t like where this is going. I hate walking around this place unarmed. It feels like they tricked us into a cage.” He grimaced. “There were tons of institutions that were infiltrated back in the city. I’d say it’s more than possible they came here too.”
I scowled. “I think we need to assume the worst-case scenario here. If we’re wrong, great. We’ll all laugh about our paranoia as we sip cocktails with our new buddies. But if we’re right, we need to be prepared for when the shit hits the fan. With that in mind, what can we do? We don’t have our weapons, and we don’t have any solid proof to show our people. They won’t want to leave based purely on our doubts.”
Deacon sighed deeply, and his shoulders slumped. “Agreed. They have everything they need right here. Food, shelter, showers, and real beds. This place has everything we promised them it would. Even if they believe something is off with the general, they probably still wouldn’t leave.”
We stared at each other, each trying to find a solution to the impossible situation at hand. During the silence, Veronica joined us at the table. “Hey.” Her normally warm, cheerful voice had a tense edge. “You guys look like you’re talking business. Let me drop this status report on you.”
I brought my coffee to my lips. “Go for it, Big Red.”
She spared me a brief smile at the nickname. “Well, people freaking love it here, man. I haven’t ever seen them this happy. They’re warm, they’re fed, and they’re all settling into their own little nests. Some of them are starting to take on odd jobs around the fort. The kids have places to play.” She looked at us uneasily. “We should be overjoyed about this.”
“But?” I prompted.
“But I feel nervous as shit.” Veronica exhaled slowly. “Tell me why I can’t be happy about everything that’s going on. I really hoped this would solve all our problems, and I mean, it looks like it has.”
Without any preamble, I filled her in on the latest General-related details. When I was done, s
he scowled mightily. “You gotta be kidding me. No wonder I thought he was such a skeevy creep.” She sat back on the bench, tossing the mane of red hair that hung down to her waist. “How do we fix this? There has to be a way. Only, everyone loves this guy. They think he’s a savior, for obvious reasons. We can’t tell them none of it is true. We need proof.”
I made a fist on the table and squeezed, venting my frustration. “What the fuck, why not? What if I stood up in front of everyone right now, like I did back at the safehouse, and told them we needed to leave? It worked the first time.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Vic,” the agent said. He fiddled with the stirrer sticking out of his mug. “Last time, they didn’t have a choice—it was follow you or die like fish in a barrel. That’s not the case anymore. These people don’t know what we know. To them, the general is the best thing since damn sliced bread. They’re not gonna budge simply because you tell them to. In fact, I think you’d get booed out of here.”
“Come on.” I frowned at him. “They thank me left and right for getting them out of New York. As far as they know, I’m the reason they’re still alive today. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“It did before they got here,” Deacon responded. “Now, everyone feels safe, though. You’ve done your job, so they don’t need to listen to you anymore. You’re merely some badass vigilante with a sword. There’s no place for that here.”
I groaned. “I want what’s best for all of us. That’s why I agreed to haul ass out of New York in the first place.”
“I know that,” he replied soothingly. “We all know that, Vic. That’s why we stick by you through thick and thin. But everyone else needs stability. They feel safest when there’s something familiar they can hold onto, like a regiment or a routine. The military is all about that.”