Chapter 7

I was almost grateful that the armored car lacked windows, since that would have only made the trip more harrowing. I’d usually been fine with cars, since I could understand them. They were mackie-less carriages, just a tad faster than what we had back home. Still, that loud, slippery trip to wherever the Hell we were going managed to be the most distressing journey on a day when I’d flown and been on a bullet train.

“We seem to be climbing up an awful lot of hills,” I just about shouted to Mariko over the roar of the engine.

“Better than going downhill in the ice and snow,” she said.

Funny, she was usually more comforting than that.

I don’t know how long the interminable trip took. It was pitch black outside, and we were quickly ushered indoors before I could get the lay of the land. The men and women were quickly segregated and led to our own barracks.

I could figure out a few details about our new surroundings, though. A quick scan of my Mimic Sight showed that there were fewer than a dozen other wizards about, not counting us new arrivals. I took that to mean we weren’t being folded into an existing Corps unit just yet, which was good. I had promised Mariko (perhaps a bit irresponsibly) that I’d be her sword arm and make sure she never had to use combat magic in anger. It had seemed like the right thing to say at the time, but I wasn’t quite sure how I’d manage it. I wouldn’t complain about having more time to figure it out.

Mr. Lahlou dropped us off at our quarters with an order to get situated in fifteen minutes, then stand at attention at the end of our bed. There would be no privacy whatsoever; it was a tiny, low-ceilinged room with windows on one side, which was about the only kind thing I could say about the place. Our accommodations were raised beds, like the top bunk of a bunk bed, but with the lower space filled up by a small wardrobe and writing desk. I couldn’t help but notice that the mattress was sized for one.

I cursed internally; there’d be no sneaking a girl for a quick tryst in these quarters.

The tight space would comfortably fit ten of those bunks. A pity, then, that there were twelve of them arranged in two rows. Several already showed signs of occupation, though their occupiers were nowhere to be seen. I quickly sorted out which of the bunks had the most clearance and claimed it. What luck; somebody had left one at the end of the line with the ladder and desk facing away from any neighbor! I’d just about clambered up the short steps when I heard a pained grunt from behind.

Kowalski had managed to get himself stuck between two of the bunks. He’d slimmed down some, but muscle took up space the same way that blubber did. “Uh, a little help, guys?”

Hiro’s whole body shimmered as he activated Immortal Form, his magical affinity. Like Samson toppling the pillars of the temple, Hiro grabbed both bunks and shoved them aside without effort.

“Th-thanks, man,” said Kowalski as he took a step back.

“No problem,” said Hiro, before flexing his superhuman strength again to shift the beds back into place.

Of course, by then all of the other spots had been called, and everybody was busy unpacking. I could also tell that there wasn’t a way to rearrange the room. That was how I ended up right smack dab in the middle of the row, precisely where I hadn’t wanted to be. Having empathy is a damnable flaw.

With the time spent fussing about the beds, I saw that most of the strangers in our midst had stayed in their cliques. There were four boys speaking in rapid-fire Japanese like they were old friends. The two outsiders were that Asian boy who I’d queried before, and a European with curly, brown hair who was setting up a framed photo of an older man.

I decided to take a chance with the European, since in my experience, they all seemed to speak English. “Good evening! It seems we’re neighbors. Soren Marlowe. And you are?”

He held up his hands before I could grab one for a shake. “Sorry, not so good,” he said in an oddly familiar accent. “Nihongo wa hanasemasu ka?”

So much for my experience. “Watashi… rubbish.”

Kowalski came to my rescue, looming up behind me. “Your accent…”

“Yes, I just admitted I’m rubbish at Japanese,” I groused.

“No, his accent.” Kowalski switched tongues to one that sounded a bit like Mother’s native Ukrainian, and the fellow replied in kind. “I thought he sounded Polish! His name is Antoni, by the way.”

With that, he turned his attention to his new countryman. The only thing I picked up from the emerging conversation was the word Gunma spoken by both men. It seemed Antoni had grown up in the same Little Poland as Kowalski, though they didn’t seem to know each other.

“Time is almost up,” said Hiro, repeating the warning in Japanese. The foursome looked at each other and nodded, and we all stood in silence at the food of our bunks, our backs straight and arms at our sides.

Mr. Lahlou returned with an unfamiliar woman in a Wizard Corps uniform. The color coding indicated a wizard’s experience. A white main body with a green cap and capelet marked us as cadets, but both of our superiors were dressed in the black of full wizards. Where the technically minded Moulham Lahlou had the blue accessories of a support wizard, the woman had full combat red.

I couldn’t quite place the ethnicity of the newcomer. I was hardly an expert in human races, though I thought she bore some similarity to Mr. Lahlou’s dusky features. She stood ramrod straight as she strode by, her brown eyes daring any of us to not measure up. Her raven hair was tied up in a bun that stuck out from behind her red Wizard Corps cap. I thought she looked like she’d crossed into her thirties, though she still cut a trim figure. The streaks of grey in her hair and a few crow’s feet gave her away, though.

After a long moment of silence, a slight grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. She addressed us in Japanese, but all that I caught was ‘well’ and ‘gentlemen’. Possibly a ‘welcome’ to go with it, but that was just a reasonable guess.

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Many of my fellows replied, but a few stayed silent with me. Her smile faded away when she saw the look of dull incomprehension in our eyes. “Who here speaks English?”

Many of the hands went up, but fewer than I’d have expected. She repeated the same question in Japanese. I understood it, but I knew better than to raise my hand. To my surprise, there were a couple who didn’t raise their hand for either question. It seemed there wasn’t a lingua franca for our merry little band.

“For God’s sakes, it’s a Tower of Babel in here,” she said. “Moulham! What were you teaching at that school? I was told that this would be a Japanese language unit!”

“The finer aspects of Japanese grammar didn’t appear on the curriculum,” he replied. “We had the translation magic.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What were you planning to do with them once they were in the field? Haul around those huge fabricata you installed at the academy?”

“For now, we have ivory earpieces that just need a little magic,” he said. “I have a stash ready to hand out.”

She nodded. “That will do for now. I’m Sergeant Carine Lakhdar, and welcome to Installation 17B.”

“Such a poetic name,” I said to Hiro, who stood to my right.

Not muttered quietly enough, it seemed, since I was facing the woman before I could blink twice. “You, cadet! Were you given leave to speak?”

“No, ma’am,” I said. The way Carine’s eyes burned with anger, I wondered if flogging was on the table after all.

“Do you have an issue with the name of this installation?”

“No, ma’am,” I said.

“Really? You seemed to think it wasn’t ‘poetic’ enough a moment ago,” she said. “What would you call it instead?”

“I-I can’t rightly say.” I hadn’t thought much of her looks wise, her defiant attitude ratcheted her up a few marks.

“Don’t bring me problems if you don’t have a solution, Mr. Marlowe,” she snapped. “I don’t care if you’re supposed to be some sort of hero; that won’t score you any points with me, Mr. Magpie Wizard.”

“I see that my reputation precedes me,” I said, chuckling to try and take the edge off.

“That it does,” she said without a hint of humor. “I’m going to take your fellow cadets on a quick tour of the facilities. Meanwhile, you’ll get a sheet of paper and come up with twenty more ‘poetic’ names for this installation. You can have dinner if and when you fill it up to my satisfaction.”

Hiro and Kowalski looked on me with sympathy. I tried to ignore them, since looking away from the Sergeant could only irritate her more. “I won’t let you down again, ma’am.”

“See that you don’t. Everyone else, follow me.” They shuffled out, leaving me alone with a sheet of paper and pen.

At least I’d ended the sad episode quickly. I think my compliance surprised her. If my reputation had preceded me, she might have expected me to smart off again or protest. Or, if she thought I’d be a ‘brown noser’ like Mr. Lahlou had said before, that I’d fall to my knees and beg forgiveness. Quiet stoicism gave her nothing to object to. It was the best way to be defiant.

“Fort… hm. Fort Defiance? That’s striking. An excellent start.” I struggled after that bit of beginner’s luck. I had no idea what the terrain was like, save that it was up in the mountains somewhere. Rather hard to name something I hadn’t seen yet. “Can’t even be sure how large the place is.”

Thankfully, I wasn’t without resources. Mimic Sight rendered the whole world as a dark void, lit only by the magical signatures of my fellow wizards. It seemed that nobody was floating off the ground, which meant that all of the wizards were at ground level. I could also get some sense of where the doors were, since the crowd of wizards would bunch up and move single file.

“Not terribly useful, but it’s better than dreaming up names for this prison,” I said. “I imagine it’s in the middle of nowhere, after that long drive. Aha! Fort Solitude, like in Hiro’s Superman comics!”

I wasn’t quite right about the details of those comic books he’d loaned me, since Superman had a Fortress of Solitude, but it did get me a free entry on my punishment list.

Just as I was writing out item number seventeen (Prestidigitation Point, if memory serves), the door opened behind me. I leapt out of my chair and very nearly flashed a closed-handed Grim Horde salute. Old instincts die hard.

I had taken Sergeant Lakdhar by surprise twice in thirty minutes, and I could only just stop myself from smirking. “A pleasure, ma’am. However, I’m afraid I’m not quite done yet.”

She strode over and snatched the sheet from my desk, giving it only a cursory glance.

“You actually did it,” she said.

“Of course; orders are orders.”

Golden runes spun about her hands. “Paper Shredder.”

The paper disappeared in a flash of green light, and I couldn’t help by flinch. “What the devil was that?” My Mimic had already copied the spell, but that was more a bit of rote memorization. I couldn’t really analyze the implications of the magic.

Her eyes widened at the mention of my race, but she recovered quickly. “A little something they teach you in special ops. You can relax; it only affects paper.”

“I see. A pity you didn’t read it. I was rather proud of Magician Mountain.”

“There’s the smarm Tachibana told me to expect!” She began to pace. “I was almost starting to wonder if I had the wrong man, the way you caved in right away.”

“No, ma’am,” I replied. “I ought not to have said anything at all. I was out of line.”

“You’re right there,” she said, coming to a stop before me. “Still, I was almost hoping you had more fight in you. After all, where’s the fun training a demonkin if all he can say is ‘yes, ma’am’?”

We studied each other in silence for a moment. I refused to give her the satisfaction of showing my surprise; I’d be damned if I was going to let this woman torture me with my secret. Living through one Maggie Edwards was quite enough.

“You seem less surprised than I’d expected,” she said, losing the game of conversational chicken.

“Frankly, it would have been irresponsible if somebody hadn’t told you what you were dealing with.” Even if it was only the partial truth. “Especially if you know what happened at the Starlight lounge in Keflavik.”

“I do,” she said. “What did you do to warrant a hit squad?”

“Even devil worshippers don’t care for traitors,” I said.

“Seems a little hypocritical, since they betrayed God,” she replied.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Devils aren’t much for consistent morality. Let’s be better than them. After all, now I’m not sure what you expect from me. Should I give you lip, or do you want obedience?”

Sergeant Lakdhar crossed her arms under her chest, her eyes drilling into me. “Some might take that last question as insubordination.”

“Some might, ma’am,” I granted. “However, I don’t think you are the type.”

“What type do you think I am?”

“I can’t rightly say just yet,” I said. “You do seem to have a penchant for testing people. A fine trait in a sergeant commanding a training unit. I only hope I passed my first exam.”

“The passing grade would have been not to undermine me the first time I met my new charges,” she said. “And now I’ll have to assign somebody to give you the tour tomorrow. This was a waste of both our times.”

“I do regret that,” I said. After all, in another lifetime I’d learned the importance of keeping subordinates in line, and she couldn’t exactly light us on fire until we complied.

Those were hard memories. The stench of burning orc is astoundingly awful. It’s all of that body hair.

And, I told myself, the casual cruelty bothered me a tad in retrospect, even if it hadn’t at the time. However, the stink was what crossed my mind first.

“I accept your apology,” she said. “As for your insubordinate question, can the side talk when you’re at attention. If I need your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “If I can say, you’re awfully calm about the whole demonkin situation. Most people just about spit the word.”

“I happen to believe in forgiveness,” she said. “Especially when people come back to the light on their own.”

Come back on my own? She didn’t know nearly as much as she thought she did. After months of being Maggie Edward’s plaything, it was nice not being the one in the dark.