The Lost Voice

by V. St. Clair

  “Yeah, looks like it,” Carl responded, turning his back on the Academy at last. “Any advice?”

  “Well, I’d normally tell you to keep a low profile and avoid the attention of the higher-ups, but since you’re the only ranking officer in the entire military who’s also Gifted, I’d say you’re going to have a hard time keeping out of the limelight.”

  “How angry do you think most of the soldiers are going to be about me being Gifted?” he asked, wondering if he was setting himself up to take a knife in the back.

  Artim shrugged.

  “No idea. I was never crazy enough to go into the military so I don’t know what those nut-jobs are thinking. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Carl chuckled and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Artim was probably closer to the mark than he knew.

  “Well, we’re here.” Artim pulled to a stop near the west entrance and popped the trunk, getting out of the car to help unload Carl’s possessions. “If you ever need a driver, give me a call.”

  Carl raised an eyebrow and said, “Whenever I want?” He felt like a rube for not knowing the basic workings of the government. He would need to rectify the issue as soon as possible.

  “Sure. Let me see your comm and I’ll link my number.” Artim turned his own communicator screen-out and touched it to the face of Carl’s so the numbers would transfer.

  “Thanks. Out of curiosity, why are you so helpful? Do you just really love driving or something?”

  Artim laughed and said, “I forget how much you don’t know about how things work here. Even in our ranks, there’s a hierarchy. Most of the big-wigs have preferred drivers, so if I’m lucky enough to be chosen I get better perks and bonuses—and more bragging rights. They log every person I drive for, so repeat business is good for me, especially from important people. It makes other important people think of me when they’re looking for a driver, which means a bigger raise and more vacation.”

  Carl hadn’t even considered that each function here probably had its own pecking order and ranking system. There was so much to learn, it seemed an insurmountable task.

  “Do I count as someone important?” he asked curiously, as Artim called for a float-pallet to be sent for Carl’s belongings.

  “Well, you’re the highest-ranking person I’ve driven so far, and I’d say you’re definitely going places if you don’t make a mess of things and wind up dead,” the driver admitted cheerfully, beginning to load bags onto the float pallet. “I’ve only got Level-6 clearance here—that’s the lowest, in case you don’t know—and you’re a Level-4. If you keep using me as your driver, it could bring other captains and ranked staff my way.”

  “Well, then I’ll try not to tank my career prematurely,” he grinned. “I’ll give you a call if I ever need a ride somewhere.”

  “Thanks, sir. Good luck!” Artim shook his hand and stayed behind with the car, while Carl pulled the float pallet behind him towards the west door.

  Time for the moment of truth…

  He scanned his wrist at the reader on the door and exhaled in relief when the door actually clicked open.

  Wow, I can officially enter the most important building on the planet whenever I want to.

  It still felt surreal, but he tried not to look overwhelmed as he approached the reception desk.

  “Moving in?” the olive-skinned man greeted him, glancing briefly over the emblem at the end of his necklace and at the float pallet behind him.

  “Yeah. Carl Vucanis, Ground-Captain.”

  “Scan in,” the man requested, pointing to the biochip reader facing away from the desk, and Carl did so. “Captain Vucanis, you’re on fifteen, room nine.”

  “Is that where all the Ground-Captains are housed?” he asked, trying to get a sense for whether he was being treated typically or not.

  “All level-four staff are housed on floors fourteen to twenty-one,” he confirmed. “Is there an issue with your room assignment?”

  “No, I was just curious. Thank you.” Carl moved towards the elevators, towing the float pallet behind him, careful to make sure it cleared the doors before he hit the button for the fifteenth floor.

  He suddenly remembered how fast the elevators here moved and braced himself, but since he was only going up a few floors the elevator didn’t take off like a rocket, maintaining a more sensible speed on the ascent.

  The fifteenth floor looked less militaristic than he expected, which was a pleasant surprise. The block of individual rooms were evenly spaced around an open, central foyer with an attached kitchen and dining area. The couches looked lived-in but comfortable, and photographs and paintings dotted the walls, mostly commemorating great military feats throughout Elaria’s history.

  Carl left his float pallet in the middle of the space and walked briefly through the common areas, familiarizing himself with the space and noting where the restrooms were located. Overall, he was pleased with the living arrangements so far. He reclaimed the float pallet and quickly located room nine, scanning his wrist and exhaling in relief when the door lock clicked open for him.

  The room was not terribly dissimilar to his previous one at the Academy. A modest but comfortable bed, a bookshelf, a desk, and a reasonable amount of space for his belongings were all welcome sights.

  It took Carl less than ten minutes to unpack and settle into the space. He abruptly found himself with nothing to do, taking a seat on the edge of his bed and trying to decide how to remedy the problem. He could walk around until he found someone, but he had the feeling that a Gifted roaming through the Augenspire would give people heart attacks and invite more trouble than it was worth.

  Should he go back downstairs and try to figure out what group of soldiers were his subordinates so he could introduce himself? Or was it more important to figure out who his direct commander was so he could check in with them instead?

  There was a knock on his door.

  Hoping it was someone useful, Carl opened it to see a uniformed captain standing on the other side.

  “Carl Vucanis?” she asked by way of greeting, eyes quickly taking in his appearance.

  Carl came to military attention and said, “Yes, ma’am. Who do I have the honor of speaking to?” It seemed safer to err on the side of formality than to risk being too casual.

  The blond-haired captain raised an eyebrow and said, “No need to be so formal; we’re of equal rank.” She gestured to the arm of her grey uniform, where one white band was visible to denote her rank as a captain of the ground forces. “I’m Hyla Grand.”

  “Sorry, I’m still learning my way around military protocol. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Commander Lykan asked for volunteers to get you set up and oriented at our last staff meeting, so I’m here to offer my assistance—if you need it.”

  “Lord yes, I could use all the help I can get,” Carl answered with perfect sincerity, which seemed to surprise Hyla. “Did you actually volunteer for this job, by the way, or were you volun-told to help me?”

  She cracked a smile at the joke and said, “I volunteered. I always like to meet the newcomers as soon as possible to get an idea of whether they’re going to be an asset or a hindrance.”

  Well, at least she’s honest about it.

  “Fair enough. Is Commander Lykan our boss, then?”

  Again, Hyla’s face registered surprise.

  “They didn’t review the organizational chart with you?”

  “I don’t know who ‘they’ is, but it’s been kind of a whirlwind the last few days. I had an interview with the Vicereine and Ground-Leader Skye, and I haven’t really heard from anyone since, other than to tell me to move in and get to work.”

  Hyla sighed and said, “I suppose we are in unusual times right now, with a new Vicereine trying to establish her regime—especially given the circumstances of her sudden ascent to power.” She grimaced. “Well, you’d better come with me and I’ll do what I can to bring you up to speed in the next couple of hours before dinner.”


  “Sounds like a plan. Where are we going?” Carl shut the door behind him and followed her to the elevators.

  “To get your uniforms so you don’t make people twitchy until they get used to seeing you with your emblem.” She held the door for him and stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for the ninth floor.

  “I hope you have a good memory, because while I can understand your current ignorance, if you aren’t able to remedy it fairly quickly then you’re going to get iced out of here—or worse. We don’t have time to carry dead weight around here for the sake of appearances and integration.”

  Carl’s attention sharpened immediately.

  “I understand. Start talking and I’ll try to keep up.”

  She nodded curtly, apparently satisfied with his answer.

  “Laundry facilities are on level nine. You’ll be issued ten sets of uniforms and will be expected to maintain them appropriately. Drop them in the bin near the elevators when they’re dirty and you can pick up freshly washed and ironed ones on nine as needed. You’re to be in uniform at all times during working hours, and any time you are conducting official business regardless of whether you are on shift or not, unless told otherwise by a superior. While in uniform, you are to conduct yourself in accordance with Augenspire policies at all times, as you are a representative of the military. You may not express personal opinions to any member of the media or anyone unaffiliated with the government while in uniform, as it may be construed as an official statement.”

  “Is there a handbook that explains all the rules of etiquette and behavioral requirements for government employees?”

  “There are two, actually—one that applies to all government employees and another more specific to the military. I’ll have both sent to you tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  They arrived at the laundry area and Carl scanned his biochip when prompted, which caused a rotating line of clothing to move rapidly around its tracks until his uniforms came into view, stopping abruptly in front of him.

  “You, me, and eighteen other Ground-Captains report to Ground-Commander Lykan. He and four other Ground-Commanders report to Ground-Leader Skye, who reports directly to the Vicereine.”

  “So there are a hundred Ground-Captains? That seems like a lot.”

  “Each captain is responsible for around ten-thousand troops. Most of them are locals, but some commute in from nearby cities.”

  Carl did the math in his head. “So we have a million soldiers working for us?”

  Hyla shot him a look and said, “That only accounts for the ground forces, but yes. We only keep them nearby in the event of an attack or sudden conflict which may necessitate fighting in the capital before more troops can arrive from out of town. In an extended or coordinated conflict, however, we have millions more troops throughout the world and on reserve who can be pulled as needed.”

  She seemed to think he was underwhelmed by the number of troops at the government’s command, but Carl was feeling exactly the opposite.

  “That’s…a lot of people.” He thought about it more carefully for a moment and felt an icy stab of fear. “So I’m in charge of ten-thousand troops now?”

  Was he supposed to learn all their names? Get to know each and every one of them? Issue all direct orders to keep them busy all day? Were they expecting him to know what he was doing already? Why didn’t anyone during the interview process make the details of this job clearer to him before he accepted it? He began to see why the commander in his interview objected to his appointment without experience.

  A part of him was tempted to bolt from the building as fast as his legs would carry him, but Carl swallowed down the surge of fear and kept his expression calm.

  “Yes, thereabouts,” Hyla confirmed. “Since you lack previous military experience, Commander Lykan has assigned some of his other captains to work with you on shift to ensure you know what sorts of drills and exercises to do and what is expected of you as a leader.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  A commander willing to arrange a support-system for a Gifted is encouraging.

  Some of the trepidation must have shown on his face, because Hyla paused and said, “It isn’t like you’ll be spending all day with each of your people, personally drilling them. There are sub-captains within your division who are typically delegated responsibility for most of the day-to-day work, and those are the people you would spend most of your time with. It’s the difference between accountability and responsibility: they’re responsible for carrying out your orders, but you’re accountable if they don’t.”

  “Ah.” Carl brightened in understanding. “That makes more sense—thank you.”

  “Change into uniform and I’ll drive you to the barracks and do some preliminary introductions. We can pick up your copy of the regs on the way.”

  Carl thanked her again and stepped back into his room, stripping out of his clothing as quickly as possible and pulling on the starched grey uniform with a single white stripe on the arm. The suit felt crisp and slightly uncomfortable, but he assumed it would get better after a few wash cycles. Lacing up his new boots, he paused to look at himself in the mirror.

  For a moment he stood there, stunned by his own reflection. As often as he had imagined this day, he had never fully stopped to think about how he would actually look as a member of the military. Aside from the emblem dangling conspicuously around his neck, he looked like any of the soldiers he’d ever seen. It was a disorienting shift in perspective.

  Shaking off the sense of vertigo, he stepped back outside to rejoin Hyla, careful to leave his emblem visible on top of his clothing. Perhaps someday Jessamine would lift the law requiring all Gifted to prominently display their emblem over their clothing at all times, and then Carl could truly blend in with the rest of society without receiving awkward, frightened, or disgusted stares.

  Hyla nodded in terse approval and began moving to the elevators again.

  “Are your driving and flying permits up to date?” she asked as they descended to the ground floor.

  Surprised by the question, Carl stumbled over the answer.

  “I—well, my driving credentials are current, but—don’t we have drivers?”

  Hyla glanced sideways at him as they scanned out of the building and made their way towards a massive vehicle garage that Carl had always mistaken as a barracks on previous trips.

  “Yes, but in an emergency you need to be able to drive or pilot any vehicle you come across, since I doubt your driver is going to come bail you out of a war-zone.”

  Great, now I feel like an idiot.

  “I hadn’t thought about it before—sorry, I’m just realizing how much there really is to think about and prepare for.”

  Hyla’s expression relaxed as they entered the garage, Carl following her lead and trying to study the process for checking out a vehicle while also listening carefully to her responses.

  “You’re at a bigger disadvantage than most, since you weren’t promoted through the ranks. If you’d come in as a ground soldier you would’ve learned a lot of the basics before you got your captaincy, but I understand that Jessamine is trying to make a key statement early in her reign about her support of the Gifted. Anyway, you can drive, but can you fly?”

  “No,” Carl admitted, wondering how much of an issue it would be. “I was still in school at the Academy so I didn’t really have enough money to rent or train on aerial vehicles.”

  Hyla seemed to sense his embarrassment because as she climbed into the driver’s seat of their black ground-car she said, “It’s not surprising. Plenty of people come into the military without money or resources. Just make sure you tell Commander Lykan when you meet with him so he can enroll you in classes to get your certifications in order.”

  And here I was worrying I’d be bored.

  Flying lessons, meetings with his commander and ninety-nine other captains, plus his sub-captains and the ten-thousand troops he was accountable for, reading t
wo lengthy books on government and military regulations…he’d be lucky to ever sleep again.

  They drove in a direction he’d never been before, away from the Augenspire Expressway and down the length of the bluff until everything disappeared from view behind them except for the Augenspire itself. Carl’s eyes widened appreciatively when he saw the compound up ahead, dozens of tall, block-shaped buildings forming a wide circle. He had no idea how tall each building was, mentally estimating something around a hundred stories.

  Well now I know where they house so many people…

  “All of the ground and sky troops live here?” he asked in astonishment as they drove into the compound, which in a way reminded him of the size and scope of the Academy.

  “Only when they’re on duty,” Hyla explained. “They’re on schedule, so your people would work four days, then get two off, then work seven days, then get five off. Every month they have a six-day shift and quarterly a ten-day one.”

  “That sounds really confusing.”

  “It is, especially when you throw in all the vacations. We have a whole team of schedulers who keep track of everything and make sure we’re always covered and that people are where they should be.”

  “So everyone has a room here for when they’re on shift, but on their off-days they go home?”

  “Yes, there are two to a room here in most cases, not unlike the Academy. They’re not locked on campus, though, even while on shift. They can go out during the evenings or plan events as long as it doesn’t interfere with any scheduled work.”

  “Doesn’t sound too bad,” Carl acknowledged, following her into the third building from the entrance.

  “That’s the idea.” She smiled at him, approaching the man at the front desk, who promptly stood at attention to greet them.

  “Captains. How can I assist you?” The man’s gaze quickly took in Carl’s emblem, but Carl had to give the man credit for not breaking character at the sight of it.

  “I’m here to introduce Captain Carl Vucanis to his division and get him acquainted with the building. Please have all available sub-captains report to the large conference room.”