“It will take some time for the headset to warm up to your body. There is a lot for it to learn from you. Our estimations give the headset six hours of boot-up time. During that time, Zan, please give us another call. Until then, over and out,” the Screen Master said, then his voice vanished.
Removing his finger from the headset button, Zan felt a mixture of emotions. Anger for the pain he felt, and rage at the Wardens for not even telling him he might feel pained when he put the headset, the ‘war suite,’ on, and, of course, sadness and shame for how he thrashed about and attracted the unwanted attention of the others in the camp.
Finally, he also felt burned out. Like he was a candle that burned too brightly on one end. Zan wanted to rest. Take a nap. He wondered if he had the time?
“I need to see my reflection. Where is the nearest river?” Zan asked.
“Let me bring you,” Whiskey said, leading the boys out of the tent.
Zan stumbled down to the river. He plopped himself on his knees and looked at his reflection. Black, tangled hair in a mesh, with strange wire-tendrils writhing through his forehead like a pulsating mass of worms. Covering it all was a sheen of dirt and sweat from the writhing he did on the tent floor.
“I look like shet…” Zan muttered.
“Yeah. Totally…” Jiehong said, either being real or overly blunt.
“Looks aside,” Whiskey said. “I should get going. I would love to see how this headset-thing plays out, but I am needed elsewhere. It was really nice to see you boys again. I will look forward to our next encounter.”
Jiehong protested. He attempted to convince her to stay, but what was there here for a rebel? Though clutching his head bent over the river, his heart pounding, even Zan could see how brave it had been for Whiskey, as a rebel, to enter a Loyalist camp all by herself. For all she knew, she was going to be arrested the moment she crossed into camp.
“Whiskey! Ever so famous, we meet again,” Colonel Winters said, emerging from somewhere in camp and addressing her as she was talking to leave. As this happened, Zan remained by the river in pain. Though he heard everything.
“Colonel Winters… good day,” Whiskey said, likely wanting no part of a conversation with the enemy.
“Please. Stay a moment. Though we are foes for the moment, we are not ride-and-die enemies clutched in the blood of our honorable dead. My command is old. Your rebellion is new. There is much we could talk about.”
“You say so, but I know you are really only probing me for information. I will save you the trouble: I am a new commander among my faction’s ranks. Some silver fox Loyalist will not outfox me. I know enough about the weight of my command to know when to act cautiously.”
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“If you do, then you will become a great commander yet. Which is why news of your faction’s defeat at Feathervale surprised me. Especially considering the gross incompetence of Mayor Blueberry,” Winters said.
The footsteps stopped. Breathing slowed. “I made mistakes in command. Got too aggressive. It won’t happen again.”
“I bet it won’t. You seem driven. Is there really no way for us to convince you to join us on our mission? I know Zan and Jiehong would appreciate you staying with them. We are upon our target now. The battle would last, perhaps, a day or two at most. I would reward you handsomely…”
“How handsomely?” Whiskey said, slowly.
A slight shuffling of armored plates. It sounded like Winters shrugged, for lack of a better word. He said, “Anything you wanted in the estate, here. A viceroy’s property might hold many a valuable item for your to sell and finance your cause.”
Another silence.
Whiskey spoke, but an uncertainty sounded through her voice. “Why are you so desperate for the aid of one warrior? Be honest, Colonel.”
Another sounded like armor settling. Another shrug? Winters said, “Hard to say. Another blade could easily turn the tide of battle. Skilled or unskilled. I’ve seen your abilities firsthand, remember, so I know how reliable you would be in a pinch. Plus, you wouldn’t be by yourself. I am sure you have a couple of scouts close to us, monitoring this interaction, even, perhaps? Their blades will be of use as well.”
More silence. More thinking. A good thing.
Finally, Whiskey said, “We could take anything? You have the authorization to sanction off items from a lord’s estate?”
“I do. My rank comes with certain privileges. Especially in situations like these where a lord is desperate. Should the item you wish to take as payment be an item the lord doesn’t want to give away, I will simply intervene, explain to him the situation, and send you on your way with the item in hand. Simple as that and you have my word it will be so simple,” Winter said, calmly explaining as though it were conversation about the weather.
A final silence. Whiskey considered one last time and said, “Fine. You have a deal. But I will not be taking orders directly from any Loyalist. Zan! You’re in the commander’s seat!”
“Excellent!” the Colonel exclaimed. “I am thrilled you will be assisting. We begin our attack tomorrow. Be ready.”
The conversation ended there. The Colonel asked a couple of questions concerning Zan’s state and what the deal with his head was about, but otherwise did not linger to tell stories or commiserate.
“You doing good still, buddy?” Jiehong asked, a smile nearly as wide as his face beaming, so happy he was at Whiskey staying.
“I’m… hungry… and tired,” Zan said.
“Damn. I am too. Whiskey, care to join us for some crappy food?”
Whiskey considered, and though she was hesitant, she relented.
Dinner was a simple stew with freshly made bread. Iced-water glistening with the heat of the day, Whiskey served on the side. Where she got ice, Zan did not know. Zan eat and drank merrily despite his condition and throbbing skull.
By night’s end, Zan was ready to turn in… but it had been hours since the headset, the ‘command center system’ installed itself inside him. He should call the Wardens like they requested and — but Zan couldn’t even finish his thought. He was so tired.
So exhausted from the day’s exciting events, not to mention Whiskey staying to join them in the fight, Zan fell asleep in his tent surrounded by Jiehong and Whiskey.
Sleeping deeply, Zan knew he would need his rest. Tomorrow would test him in ways he never imagined.