“In war, events of importance are the result of trivial causes.”

-Julius Caesar

Operation: Midday Meal

The 32 standard rifle was designed at the beginning of The International Conflict by the Top Notch corporation. Named after its thirty-two inch barrel and caliber, the 32 standard was used by every nation throughout the world in all fields. Hunting, home defend, law enforcement, and even military. The design was modular, but every standard rifle was designed to fire the same ammunition and be serviced by the same set of tools. A set of tools I knew well.

I reassembled the weapon before me with the familiarity of a task done a million times before. I recalled learning the basics and going over them dozens of times. Field repairs and combat malfunctions. I knew every spec and spot of this thing. It was second nature.

“Lucas!” Ashley called from downstairs. She was watching some trash film made to be played but not watched.

“One minute,” I called back as I aligned parts.

“Lucas, I’m hungry.”

I set the parts aside and stood up. She was always hungry. Never truly sated no matter how much she was given. It was an impossible task to keep her fed, and it was my job to do just that.

“It’s a bit early for lunch,” I commented as I reached the ground and turned into the kitchen. It was a kitchen built for a king. Not a real king. One of those fairy tale kings that rule over a land of infinite wealth and no wars.

“Is it?” She asked from across a viewing parting between the kitchen and living room. She must have checked the time because she called back, “I guess it is.”

I was scanning the cabinets to check the stock when I heard the thumping of her bouncing into the kitchen. She had a massive smile and her eyes twinkled as she landed next to me.

“I have an idea!” She squeed and leaped up shouting, “Let’s make a picnic!”

I looked at her for a moment, “A picnic?”

“Yes!” She nodded her head once.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

I started to pull out a platoon’s worth of ingredients and started preparing a set of dishes to make. Thousands of recipes came to mind, all studied and practiced dozens of times. I made a list of about two dozen different meals and started to prep making sure I had about twenty percent extra of everything. I didn’t know how much Ashley was going to want to help.

My caution was rewarded as Ashley raised her hand and squealed, “Can I do that?”

The task at hand was cutting onions, tomatoes, and various kinds of peppers. I shifted one every over and said, “Sure.”

She jumped over and started to slice and chop with natural grace. I turned and started setting pots to boil with potatoes, eggs, and pasta. Preheating the oven I turned to Ashley just as she popped a piece of tomato in her mouth. “I need to make a phone call. It’ll be just a minute.”

“Okay.” She answered and continued to chop.

I stepped out into the hall and to the phone. Lifting the receiver I pushed only one button. Immediately a voice answered in a modern form of Latin. An adapted form of a language I had experience communicating in billions and billions of times. The lexicon still had the same basics, but the ancient tongue was not made for the current times. Such was the nature of language and why I had to use words invented by people still alive to describe my request of the materials I needed for this picnic. Including baskets of various sizes and a blanket along with any needed instructions as I had no familiarity with picnic preparations. Field ration prep, yes. Though that gave me little aid here.

“Lucas! Water!” Ashley shouted from the kitchen.

I returned to the kitchen and lowered the heat on the stoves. I lined a number of pans with casseroles and cobblers and set them as the oven beeped its readiness. Every time I turned back to Ashley she was sneaking another bite of whatever she had offered to help with. She always did this. Cutting into the ingredients. I would only say something if she made no attempt to hide it or was really sloppy about it. Sneaking in bites was a part of the meal for her and I couldn’t deny her it if it helped sate her appetite.

The supplies arrived within the hour and I welcomed the delivery crew in as they carried a load of different baskets.

“Morning Lucas.” A man greeted.

“Morning Tim.” I greeted back.

“I hear you got quite the day planned.” Tim handed over a clipboard, “We didn’t have anything on hand, but we were able to draft something.”

I looked over the board. A roster of delivered items, mostly the baskets, and crude drafting of proper picnic preparation. I immediately was glad I asked for it. It went over a plethora of details I didn’t even think about. Where and how to stack the different dishes, tuck the blanket into the basket to cover the food, and carry the basket without strain were all things I likely could have adapted to. The forethought was only an aid to my nerves. Something I now knew wasn’t going to surprise me later. However, one detail I overlooked completely was beverages. There was a part outlining possible drink choices and how to carry them, but the thought never crossed my own mind. Luckily, it did cross someone’s mind.

A set of large canteens were included along with the baskets. I looked over the rosters and nodded. “Looks good. I should be able to handle this. Thank you, uncle.”

Tim nodded, “Alright. Girls, move out.”

The other delivery persons replied with various yes sirs and okay uncles as they filed out. One gave me a thumbs up and wished to me, “Good luck cousin.”

I gave a thumbs up back and nodded. I couldn’t remember if we were actually cousins, but the sentiment was still appreciated. Returning to the kitchen I saw Ashley licking a mixing spoon with her full tongue. As she chewed the filling she moaned but before she could swallow I spoke up.

“Ashley,” My stern voice made her stiffen, “if you taste every bite there won’t be anything to eat.”

She swallowed and turned with a sheepish grin, “Sorry, it’s just so good.”

“I would hope so.” I checked the oven and stove, “No point in eating it if it’s bad.”

Ashley grinned and chuckled and soon we were back in swing with the addition of the needed beverages nestled between the dozen other dishes.

It was nearing noon when we finally finished. Everything was packed and stacked. The haul was split between a large standard basket, and a more tactical design made as a backpack. Ashley carried the basket. I wore the pack. It weighed nearly fifty pounds, but between the straps and our packing, it wasn’t a challenge to hike through the city to the city park. As I left I gave a signal to the unseen watch team to clean up after we left. We hadn’t left the kitchen a disaster, but it was better to have it taken care of before we returned.

“Oh, wait.” Ashley stopped at the driveway, “Let me go put my brass on.”

She handed me the basket and ducked back inside. I sighed and tracked her through the house. She stomped up the stairs and rolled her way into her room and seemingly ransacked it. She returned minutes later in a different set of clothes. Apparently taking the time to change out of the sensible shirt and pants and dawn a crop top and shorts in addition to the multiple copper bands around her wrist, a copper chain belt around her waist, and a bright copper loop in her earlobe that twinkled like a star in the sunlight.

“You look like you’re smuggling raw material over a border,” I commented and handed the basket back to her. “I’ve seen armor with less metal.”

“Well, you know what they say, Lucas. More brass, more ass.” She shook the bracelets together giggling, “What if we come across some cute boys? I have to let them know I’m available.”

I could only sigh as she posed flaunting herself. She had become so much more annoying since puberty kicked in. I didn’t even know where she got that expression. Regardless, today’s objective was to have a picnic.

We made our way to the park and found a spot. Ashley laid out the blanket and I set the pack down. I scanned the area for ants and other pests while Ashley started to pull out the feast. After I was satisfied with the lack of possible insect assaults I sat down and took one of the plates and culinary I had the foresight to pack. Small details make big differences. The Motto of The Vigilant.

It was a perfect day for an outing and the park showed it. Dozens of city dwellers were enjoying the piece of nature sectioned off from the urban world.

I forked bites as Ashley shoveled mouthfuls. Relishing every bite before downing it. A few passerbys noted us, but kept going until a young boy walked up.

“Oh Wow!” The boy inhaled through his nose smelling the spread, “That smells delicious.”

“Adam, don’t be a bother.” A man said following behind with a woman.

“We’re sorry. We don’t want to interrupt your date.” The woman pulled the boy to her.

“It’s okay. We don’t mind.” Ashley said smiling

“We aren’t on a date.” I clarified. “We’re just enjoying a picnic.”

“Oh, well it’s quite spread.” the man said looking over the squadron’s worth of food, “Is this all for you two?”

“We made it all,” I said instead of answering.

“Can I have some?” The boy asked.

And before anyone could say anything Ashley handed him a plate shouting, “Sure!”

“Adam!” The woman cried out.

“You two can join too,” Ashley said. “If you want.”

“Really?” The man asked with a look of suspicion in his eye.

“The more the merrier!” Was Ashley’s reply as she pulled two more plates for them. Handing them over her copper bracelets clanged together and the two of them looked at each other having a silent conversation that only long-married couples could have. They knew something was wrong, but since the boy had started to fill himself up, they timidly joined us.

The Cook family, as they introduced themselves, was made up of Adam Senior, Daisy Mae, Adam Junior, and a daughter named Lily who was currently in cadet school. Adam Sr and Daisy were both army personnel on indefinite leave. A culinary specialist and an infantry gunsmith. Now they were a lunch man and gym teacher at the same high school they both attended.

“Wow, so you two were high school sweet hearts?” Ashley cooed “That’s so romantic. I wish I could be that lucky.”

“Nope.” Adam Sr said, “My senior year was her freshman year. We didn’t meet until the army.”

“That’s still so romantic,” Ashley cooed again before staring off into the distance, “Maybe I should join the army.”

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“That’s what I’m doing!” Adam Jr shouted as he stood up and flexed his scrawny arms, “I’m going to be a demo man and blow stuff up.”

“You choose a harsh path.” I said to him, “Demolition is not a simple trade. When you work you hold the lives of every person around you as well as many you will never know. One mistake can kill you and allies, both by misfire and malfunction, and anything you leave behind could become an unseen end to an innocent life. Not to mention the effects your successes would have. A bridge destroyed could be a village starved and a building demolished could be a home ruined.”

They all looked at me a gasped. The boy seemed almost ashamed of himself. As if he didn’t understand what unleashing massive amounts of force actually meant. I was a bit ashamed myself. That speech had been drilled into my memories thrice over. I went to take a drink. “But I think you could do it. You seem to have a good heart, and a good head too.”

“Yeah.” Adam Jr said before sitting down.

“Adam, you have to try this cobbler!” Ashley exclaimed and handed a plate over. The boy seemed to move on at that and enjoy the dessert.

We continued to talk about this and that. Until a soccer ball slammed in the middle of the picnic. I had seen it coming and moved to catch it before it could bounce away. A group of teenagers came over and apologized. Ashley brushed it off and asked if she and Adam could join, and soon the two of them were running off leaving me with the adults. I took the time to start preparing to leave. I kept my senses out for anything and everything as I moved which was how I overheard the Cooks talking.

“Did you see how much that girl was eating?” Daisy said into Adam Sr’s ear.

“Yeah, I thought there was something off about her when I saw them.”

“You think she’s a demihuman?”

“Yeah, if not both of them. The way that boy talked, it was the same way my dad talks about the invasion. He’s seen something.”

“You think they’re some ancient fae or something?”

“The way the girl talked, sounds like they’re in high school.”

I finished condensing and packing what I could. Of everything we packed only a third remained. Ashley would likely either finish it off before we left or have it as an unauthorized midnight snack. I walked over to the couple and offered my hand to both of them.

“If you want, we could exchange contacts. I’m sure Ashley would like to hangout with Adam sometime.” Apparently, I had used the wrong phasing because they looked at each other again.

Daisy spoke up, “Oh, well, Adam’s only twelve.”

“That’s fine. Ashley won’t mind. She’s only fourteen herself.”

“Oh. And you?”

“Also fourteen. We’re in the same class.”

Adam Senior asked, “Where are your parents?”

“Working. I can give you their contact.” I pulled out a notepad and pen that I always kept on me and started listing the approved contact numbers.

“Umm… Okay. Sure.” He was put off by my direct approach. Taking the paper as I handed it over he thought of what to say, “Hey, listen. Does she know about the copper belt thing?”

“Adam!” Daisy Mae slapped her husband’s shoulder, “She’s only fourteen!”

“The copper belt?” I asked.

“That doesn’t mean much Daisy.” Adam Senior responded not hearing me.

“What about the copper belt?” I asked again. Red metals were seen as the metal of courtship. Dating back to the time of The International Conflict. Back when gifting ammunition was a big deal. That evolved into a romantic tier. Copper for available, silver for committed, and gold for married and vowed; but I had never heard of different jewelry meaning different things. I needed to know.

“Well, it’s just, how do I say this.” Adam rubbed his chin thinking and I maintained my patience, “A lot of people who sell specific services use a copper belt to show they’re selling.”

“Prostitution.” I said thinking of the only ‘specific service’ one wouldn’t want to say to a kid. “Since when?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Adam stumbled again at my directness, “Awhile. My daughter Lily told me it was something all the other cadets knew.”

This was not good. How could something like this slip past The Vigilant? It wasn’t a big deal, but small details make big differences. I looked to Ashley. The game was on pause as about half the boys playing were now surrounding Ashley. No, they were surrounding a water fountain that everyone was taking turns to drink from, but their attention was on Ashley. If things went down wrong I would have to act. How fast could an action team get here? I didn’t bring a firearm with me. Damn It!

“I’m sure she’s just trying to be cool.” Daisy Mae said breaking my train of thought, “I remember being just a kid wanting to be the cool girl.”

Right. Kids. They were just kids. I could easily handle them in hand to hand. Even if they had a weapon they couldn’t match my skill enough to overpower me before an action team could arrive. The situation was still under control. I relaxed my nerves and managed with a smooth voice, “Yeah. She likes being cool.”

Soon the game ended and the Cook family gave their farewells. The boys left with hopeful promises of meeting Ashley again. They wouldn’t. Unless fate or Ashley specifically wanted it. We packed the majority of the picnic up leaving out finger foods for Ashley to munch on as she drew in her sketch pad. She was an excellent artist and her favorite subject was beautiful boys, as she said. She made drawings of each of the boys she spoke to today and even jotted down notes. I would have to review those later.

Eventually, the sun dropped to the building tops, and we had to leave and return to the house we lived in. The whole place had been swept and cleaned from top to bottom. The kitchen was in perfect condition. If Ashley had noticed she didn’t say as we unpacked, condensed the remaining food, and set the dishes in the sink with the hot tap on to soak.

“Today was awesome!” Ashley exclaimed as she twirled around. “We should go on picnics more often.”

“Really? It’s just eating outside? Is it that special?” I asked.

“It’s not just eating outside!” She stopped her twirl and stared at me with glee, “It’s being around other people!”

“We can go to restaurants. They’re always full of people.”

“People who don’t want to talk or do anything.” Ashley groaned at that. Patience was her weakest virtue.

“Fair, but you don’t have to cook, haul the food around, or wash the dishes after.” My debate was a farce. Truth was both scenarios were equally unwanted. Reducing contact with the outside world was best, but perfect is the enemy of good. So if Ashley wanted to go out, I would accompany her.

“Yeah, but I like cooking, and the haul is only heavy one way. As for the dishes,” Ashley shrugged her shoulders, “That’s just a worthwhile cost of it all.”

“Alright. Good points all around.” I turned the hot tap on the now full sink until the water covered everything, “We’ll plan more outings like today. Now I have to finish some work.”

“Alright,” Ashley headed to the living room while I headed upstairs, and before I made it halfway Ashley called, “Hey, what’s for dinner?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I answered and sighed. The job never ended, but right now I needed to make a report. Entering my workshop where my firearms lay disassembled I turned to the worktable, opened the top drawer, hit a switch, and popped a hidden compartment near the bottom inner wall. Closing the drawer I leaned over and pulled out a simple rotary phone. I dialed the phone using a passcode with strange and special actions. Pull the five over, hold for one second, bring it back to three, and hold another second. Other actions that weren’t meant to actually dial the phone, but rather confirmed I was trusted and what I was calling about.

“Salve tibi, nepos.” A male voice answered in Latin, and continued to speak in it as he said, “Bit early for a report.”

“Why was I not informed about the copper belt?” I asked in my own Latin.

“Respect, Nephew.” The voice answered back, “We’re looking into it now.”

“Apologies Uncle, but I needed that information this morning.” I kept my voice even, “How did this fall through?”

“The fashion statement among prostitutes had been noticed some time ago, but not knowing its meaning we didn’t find it significant enough to pass it on.”

“Small details make big differences.” I quoted our motto in Latin.

“Indeed they do, but hindsight is clearer than foresight.”

“Hindsight into insight. Insight into foresight. Foresight into victory.”

“Yes. We apologize for the oversight.” He punned, “But I’m getting the report now. Turns out in addition to the belt being a red metal, it’s also supposed to be both twice the standard length, and have the buckle off center to the left of the body wearing it. I guess to make it easier to access.”

“Right,” I rubbed my chin in thought over whether I should remove red metal belts from Ashley’s wardrobe. She didn’t have anything that matched the signal, but safe was better than risking the mission.

“One more thing, the code is unisex. So any belted up men are also selling.” I heard him toss some paper aside, “It’s a small detail, but we already went over that.”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. Tell the council I want their input on further action regarding red metal belts.”

“Will do.” and with that we said goodbye and hung up. Leaning back I sighed. Ultimately it didn’t matter. There weren’t any situations resulting from such a miscommunication that The Lionguard couldn’t handle, but that wasn’t an excuse for The Vigilant to slack off.

I returned to my work of reassembling my rifle, and after ensuring it was fit and ready I set it aside and started on the next weapon in my arsenal. Dissembling and cleaning the pieces until Ashley called me again, “Lucas! When’s dinner?”

Setting my work down I went down and prepared the evening meals. Luckily she was still digesting the park trip, and so only a full meal was needed to get her full enough to bathe and dress for bed. I laid down myself, tired to the bone. Appreciating the undisturbed sleep.

The morning was standard. A three course breakfast followed by a fifteen-minute trial for clothes. I wore the standard khaki uniform. It was well designed for concealment. I didn’t have any physical powers, so I had to rely on armaments.

Ashley settled on a dainty get up. A yellow tee and orange skirt with white frills lining the bottom of both. I took a moment to remember where this had been acquired. I was about to call it in when I remembered the shopping mall trip just last week. Still, I double checked my memory before we left.

Arriving at school I scanned the grounds. No unknown faces, but nobody in my class except for Samantha who was also just arriving. Ashley squealed and bounced over to her.

“Sammy! I got deets.” She held up her sketchbook.

“Oh! Tell! Tell!” Samantha squeed back.

Ashley opened the book to a stoic-looking boy. “I met him at the park. We were playing soccer and he was just kind of standing around. So I walked up and introduced myself, and Sammy he is perfect!”

“Oh.” Samantha cooed over the drawing, “He looks so sad.”

“He was. He was leading on a tree scowling at everyone, and everything he said was in this moody tone.”

“Really? Everything?”

“Yeah, all guff and grumpy. And talking about how the world is unfair and needs changing.”

Samantha gasped, “A rebel?”

“And, the best part, he’s Jewish!” Ashley pointed to the drawing where the boy was wearing a charm with the Star of David.

“Oh my! A sad boy, mad boy, bad boy, and my parents would approve!” Samantha squealed and hugged the book, “Oh Ashley! You spoil me! I’ll fix him with my love and we’ll honeymoon in France! What’s his name?”

“Umm… is was…” Ashley tried to remember.

“Mordecai Abelman.” I recited from the file I was given that morning. “A freshman of East High. Five foot seven. B negative. Native-born. His demitype is a spell caster with a specialty in golem craft.”

“A golem crafter! Well my parents certainly thank you for your service.” Samantha looked over the drawing of Mordecai leaning moodily on a tree. They started talking about what kind of person he was. Filling any missing details with fantastical speculation. Ending at the first bell with the boy being a hard-boiled loner on a quest of vengeance for a lost loved one.

The rest of the day was standard. Basic class covering all the things I already knew a dozen times over, and an extra class of Culinary and Ration. Where Ashley made good friends with our classmate, the mutant Semy Largge.

After school proper we returned home since none of our team or class had proposed anything after school. We entered and settled in for a simple evening. The last thing I needed to handle before locking was the mail.

I stepped outside and scanned the area. No clear signs of danger. Which meant The House had everything under control. I walked out to the mail and opened it. A single envelope. I took it and returned inside.

“Anything for me?” Ashley asked.

“Just a letter,” I answered and examined the envelope addressed to Ashley. The first thing I saw was that it had no stamp or postal markings. Next was the missing return address. Then how the address for the house was wrong. Lastly, the encoded message hidden in the misspelling.

It was one of the most common ciphers of The House. There were over two hundred keys that influenced it set by both the day of the month and of the week. It was nearly uncrackable, but it also wasn’t able to pass very long messages. But it didn’t need to. If a longer message was needed it could be sent in person.

The message read: Report.

That’s all. Of course, there was likely more to it. Probably hinted to in the letter itself. Ashley bounced into the room and took it. She ripped the edge and pulled the papers out. A small stack of paper were folded inside and unfolding them Ashley skimmed the pages, “It’s from Grand Uncle. I have to write him back.”

She immediately went into the living room and to the writing desk sitting in it. Pulling out paper and pen she started scribbling.

“Shouldn’t you read the letter first?” I asked following her. She stopped in realization.

“Oh yeah, I guess so,” She grinned only a bit embarrassed. Picking up the letter again she began going over the written script. The Grand Uncle was simply asking about life in the city and at school. Was she making friends and enjoying her time there? What did she know about all these fancy do-dads and such? Hoping she was in good health and happiness, and be sure to take care of herself. Noting she was a growing girl and needed to eat, sleep, and stay plenty active. Also adding that I needed to write to him and let him know how I was doing. Ending the letter with the closer, “Always Standing By, Your Grand Uncle. Alright, now I write him back!”

Ashley turned again and started scribbling again while I returned to my room to write my own response. Sitting at my own writing desk, separate from my work desk I pulled up and prepared a typewriter design to encode messages as they were typed. What I wrote, hidden in a longer mundane message, was as followed.

Ashley is developing perfectly fine. She is making great progress in forming social bonds, both in tangent with myself and independently. Modern technology are not producing over-simulation as predicted by the two thousand cautionary reports. At least not yet. The seal is holding at max strength. I, Lucas, as her handler, believe recent patterns are additional evidence to the Triple Belly Theory. The entity pulls off her mind, body, and spirit and thus she needs fulfillment in all parts of life for the seal to hold. Request for the Theory to officially be acknowledged and accepted. My own health and standing are in peak condition. No concern needed. End.

I pulled the paper out and set it with the others. That short message had taken four full pages and just as many hours to encode. I reviewed the letter again and double checked, placing the last few cipher keys with a fine tip pen. The Lionguard had some of the most complex encoding practice, but I had decades worth, no, centuries worth, of study on them. I knew my over-drawn report of our mundane activities would come out as I wanted when The Vigilant read it.

I returned downstairs to find Ashley finishing her letter, which was as long as a light novel. Near a hundred pages of rather poor handwriting and well done drawings going over her perspective of the events of the school and our classmates and teachers.

“That’s quite a lot.” I noted.

“Is it? Do you think the mailman will take it?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” I said taking her letter. We weren’t a part of the standard mail cycle. So our mail was picked up and dropped off by The Vigilant. Though I was going to have to put her letter in the mail simply tied up and bound in open air, because while we did have packages of every size, including manuscript size, the size of the envelope was apart of the cipher key I used, and I didn’t feel like rewriting my whole letter.