I am tired. Young people are terrible. Old folks like Reinhard, they do as they promise and have your gun reloaded and just leave it quietly with the supply guy so that you are left in peace and quiet until you pick it up in the morning. Those two are holding plastic cups of coffee and look tired, but insist on talking to each other.

P: I have to buy a lawn.

Odd looks. Are they thinking I am developing PTSD or something?

P: So that I can chase youngsters like you off it and yell at them to get off my lawn.

They know the joke and groan. Anyway, today I am nominally operating the radio. Neither of them was OK with an overtired man behind the steering wheel or at the trigger of an M2.

Sleep is unattainable. And some things need to get out.

P: What kind of police were you before the announcement?

D: Railway police. Both of us. You know, my mother fled out of a war zone, so I always wanted to help people.

U: Steady pay, secure position and detective work feels like snitching a bit.

P: You know the discussion we always put off because something else was more urgent, the monster I shot last night was not an animal. It talked and understood what I said.

D: Do you need some kind of psychological help? I guess we can find one in town. Getting a wizard on leave is almost impossible as things are.

P: I am aware of that. And thank you for the consideration. I am fine, as far as I can tell. I can deal with emergencies just fine, I am just not an adrenaline junky. I do not have the thrill some people get from risk. Neither am I able to ignore danger, just because it becomes old news.

U: That last bit is kind of hard to deal with. The first bit is very much appreciated in a man behind a heavy machine gun. People like that usually don’t last in police service. And we can hardly treat you like a civillian to be soothed.

P: That’s it. Are we soldiers? I know what I saw. We are fighting aliens, well maybe aliens from another dimension rather than space aliens. In fact they are almost surely from another dimension. What we saw this night was a real mammoth steppe like the terrain here was twenty thousand years ago, as …

U: Can we maybe, you know, stay on topic? Though if you did that to get rid of listening devices, congratulations, somebody’s brain just liquified.

D: What difference do aliens make?

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

P: If we are fighting a war and those Network people are keeping weapons and information from the regular army, aren’t they … traitors?

D: That is a word you rarely hear anymore. This nationality thing. You know I have an obvious issue with it.

P: Can you betray mankind?

U: So what? War has been declared. We are here. We have a job that needs doing. What does it matter?

P: Doesn’t it bother you, as a member of a police force?

U: I am a policewoman, not a judge.

Let’s face it. I am here voluntarily. I could just botch a few rituals and I would be out. There might be consequences, but I would be out of here. They might even send me home with an admonishment to keep my mouth shut. Two weeks ago I would have taken the deal. I cannot complain about people just following orders.

D: What do you really want to say?

P: The government – any government for that matter - cannot be happy to have to depend on the Network for defense during a war. What if it comes to blows?

U: Men. Nerds. They won’t fight during a war precisely because it is a war and afterwards you’ll know more. Until then keep us warned and alive.

P: Ok, ok, ok. But answer me one question. If I am that important, why are you two my only guards and you are permanently assigned to me?

D: That is a good question. We are officially for payroll purposes somewhere else, actually. You mean that there is a third party you are hidden from?

--

Tired wizards use up a few coins more and work slower. We have arrived at the border with considerable delay. So I screwed seclusion and went on to the main open square in front of the highway stop we have been using as a base. My Czech counterpart was just finishing the ritual. We had indeed skipped one slot of the reporting schedule.

P: Sorry Jiři, a rough night, we got delayed.

J: Uncharacteristic of you. No, everything is fine. You had radioed in. Sometimes you got to do what you got to do. In my case that means hitting the road. Bye!

You got to do what you got to do. I stand in front of the restaurant and close my eyes in weariness.

People are making an effort to get their children to pass me at a larger distance. Usually I would have laughed. Today I was too tired. They are acting sort of in a way you can understand. I am armed to the teeth. I do not give a shit anymore. I report my detection ritual as „performed – clear“ on the tablet, leave for the secluded part of parking space and set up an awakening ritual with the coins intended for the detection ritual I have skipped.

The stone is the dark red of blood. It turns liquid and covers me from my hand to my shoulder and extends halfway across my chest and back. And then it leaves without a residue.

I listen into myself. It calls on me to get a gun ready. I unholster my MP a bit. It feels like I can drink … destruction. Like the blood of my victims would refresh me.

That is not near the top of the list of most desirable outcomes.