The doctor glanced over the computer screen and then back at Fletcher. “Everything seems to be in order. I know your physical therapist has cleared you for regular activities, but I’m tempted to put a delay on your file anyway, just to be safe.”

  “I’m fine. I was out running on it just this morning,” Fletcher told the woman. “I’m slated for the Hotshots program, so any kind of delay would push my leave date back by a full six months if I miss this window.”

  Doctor Tetteh bit her lip. She was fully Human from what he could see. “I understand, but you going into the Hotshots is part of the reason I’m considering the delay in the first place. If it was standard basic training, I wouldn’t be worried, but Hotshot training is a lot more physically demanding.”

  “My physical therapist cleared me for it anyway,” he reminded her. “I swear I’m good to go.”

  The woman shook her head. “Alright. I can see that you’re determined so I won’t stand in your way. Try to take it easy for the last couple of days to give your leg a little more rest, okay?”

  “Will do.” Fletcher sighed in relief. He couldn’t imagine wasting another six months waiting around the base before heading to training. He needed to get out and away from things for a while, though he wasn’t all that happy that his mother decided to throw him into the Hotshots program. But as with everything, General Anders had her mind made up, and there was no changing it.

  The doctor typed for a moment on the computer, and then she turned to Fletcher with a tablet.

  “Sign here,” she said.

  He did as she asked, and then she took it from him and signed it as well.

  “That settles it. You’re officially cleared for military service,” Doctor Tetteh said.

  “Thank you.” Fletcher stood up, shook her hand, and then stepped out of the small exam room, one weight off his shoulders though it was now replaced by that deep realization that this was all real.

  He was going to be a soldier… a soldier. As far as jobs went, that one had always been close to the very bottom of the list of wants he had interest in, but the Mixed had their own ways of doing things. They were a militaristic society that survived through sheer force. Everyone who was born into their society or later joined it was required to serve in the military. It was only five years and then he’d be free to go back to… something.

  As much as Fletcher would love to return to teaching, he had a strong feeling his mother would do literally anything to keep that from happening. He wasn’t sure what other careers the Mixed might have that fit well with his skill set, but that was a problem for once he was out of the military, years from now.

  Fletcher left the medical facility behind and exited into the cold, metal hallways of the base. There were no windows since the whole thing was underground, embedded into one of the many mountains in the northern part of the Telra continent that was part of Mythia, the Unhuman world.

  He walked with confidence, though the truth was that he had only a vague idea of how to get back to his dad’s quarters where he was staying. He could have gotten his own, but his father wanted him to stay with him while he recovered from the bullet wounds, and once he was cleared, it was close enough to his departure that it wasn’t worth moving to his own place for such a short time.

  After a while of walking with more than one wrong turn, Fletcher eventually arrived back to the hallway he was searching for. He went to the third door on the left, and entered the passcode to unlock it. The door slid open, and he stepped into the small residence.

  The main room was open, with a minimal kitchen, a four-seater dining set, and a single couch that faced a wall with a painting on it. No TV. The Mixed didn’t have the resources to support such casual use of electricity, so things like that were relegated to the commercial district, inside bars and restaurants.

  Flopping down on the couch, Fletcher pulled out the three novels his father got him as a birthday gift which he had read several times during the last month. The rest of his collection was back in Alcett, never to be his again.

  Fletcher’s chest tightened as he thought of his home colony, the place he’d lived for fifteen years of his life. His thoughts turned to the Ortega family, and his best friend Javier who believed he was dead. Everyone he cared about outside of his father believed that. He had no life to return to outside the Mixed.

  As often happened when he remembered his life before the terrorist attack, Fletcher couldn’t stop himself from remembering Beam, the [Jinn] he dated while living in Bren’it’p. It was the first time in his life he really fell in love, but that was gone now. And he couldn’t even properly mourn since nobody around him could bear to hear him talk about being in a relationship with an Unhuman.

  Despite having his dad close, and even getting the chance to spend time with a mother he believed dead and a sister he didn’t know existed, Fletcher was lonely. Not even seeing Jeric and Addy, his friends from his childhood before moving to Alcett, could change that. His life would never be the same, and he wasn’t sure when he would stop missing what he had. The truth was he was convinced he’d spend the rest of the years he had upon Earth-Mythia wishing for that life back.

  It seemed like he barely got settled with his book when the door sliding open interrupted his flow, and he glared at the intruder only to relax upon seeing his father. He couldn’t afford to be angry at his dad when he had so little time left with the one person who didn’t hate him, even if Sebastian was a bit of a propaganda machine.

  “Ah, good. You’re back already. How did your appointment go?” Sebastian Anders asked. He was in his mid-fifties with graying blond hair and deep hazel eyes. He wore a pressed military uniform, the insignia along his shoulders and neck denoting him as a colonel.

  Given Fletcher had only known his father to be a mild-mannered warehouse manager, seeing his father dressed in such attire was hard to adjust to, even after weeks of dealing with it. Worse was remembering that his dad was really a spy, and the only reason Fletcher existed was because his parents needed a cover story for their infiltration into the Human colonies after the Second Unhuman War, leading to both him and Nora being born.

  “It went well. The doctor cleared me for training,” Fletcher replied, setting the book to the side.

  “That’s good news,” his dad said in a tone with fake cheerfulness. “So I guess your leg is completely good to go?”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  A beat passed.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Sebastian asked.

  Fletcher sighed. His father always knew when he was hiding something, even when he tried to make it clear he didn’t want to share. “She brought up the idea of me delaying. That’s all.”

  “And?”

  “And I told her no. I don’t want to wait six more months.”

  His father shook his head. “There’s no reason to rush into this, Fletcher. Especially after a serious injury.”

  “It was a couple of bullet holes. I’m cleared for regular activity already. It’s been almost a month, Dad,” Fletcher said.

  “Military training is not the same as regular activity. I think delaying might be a good idea. You don’t want to mess your leg up permanently.”

  “You and I both know that this has nothing to do with my leg,” Fletcher huffed. “I don’t know why you want to keep arguing about this. I’ve made my decision.”

  “I just don’t want you to dive headfirst into something that you may later regret,” his father said. “This isn’t the kind of thing you get to bail on if you don’t like it. Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

  “Five years,” Fletcher corrected him.

  Sebastian looked at him with tight lips.

  “Five years,” Fletcher insisted.

  “You know that I don’t have a problem with you serving the minimum mandatory time and then moving on. But your mother on the other hand…”

  “Well, screw her. It’s not like she can force me to stay in.” Fletcher glared at the floor, cursing the woman who gave birth to him.

  “No. Not officially. It’s just…”

  “It’s just?”

  Sebastian gave him a half smile. “It’s nothing, Fletcher. I’m sure that when the time comes for you to decide about reenlisting, there will be a nice long discussion with her about it, but it is your choice in the end.”

  “Okay.” Fletcher relaxed his jaw. “Because I’m not about to sign up for a life sentence, Dad. Not now, and not in six months.”

  “I know. I know.” His father held his hands up. “You’re the one insisting on going now.”

  “I want to get it over with. What would I even do here for the next six months?” he asked.

  “I understand why you’re doing it. But I’m your father. You can’t blame me if I worry about you occasionally.”

  “Try too often,” Fletcher replied. His stomach growled rather loudly, ending the conversation there.

  “Well, there’s no chance of us getting a restaurant reservation this late in the day, but why don’t we try out the military cafeteria for a late lunch today? That way neither of us have to cook, and you get a small taste of what the next five years will hold,” his father suggested with a smile.

  While the Mixed bases were equipped with conveniences like restaurants, they were limited and in high demand so it took at least a day’s notice to get on the list at any of them.

  “Tired of my cooking?” He grinned at his father, very much understanding the sentiment.

  “Just interested in a little variety,” his dad replied.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “That sounds great,” Fletcher said, trying to keep his stomach from grumbling at the mere thought of food. He was a little embarrassed as he realized that he had skipped breakfast in his haste to get to training that morning and forgotten to eat any snacks afterwards.

  After pulling his shoes on, he followed his father through the hallways and some stairs until they came to a large cafeteria full of other people—all soldiers.

  Sebastian gave him some basic instructions, and then showed him the table to meet back at before heading off in his own direction to get his meal. Fletcher glanced around, and tightened his grip on his tray, assaulted by strong feelings of claustrophobia. There was no reason to be uncomfortable, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to relax. Perhaps it was because of the realization that he was going to become one of these people very soon, and he didn’t like thinking about that.

  Fletcher managed to go through one of the lines to get a soggy, unappealing sandwich with a whole fruit and a small serving of chips on the side. He went back to the table, but his father had yet to return so he sat down and picked at the chips. He wanted to wait for his dad to eat, but his stomach demanded something for the delay.

  Sebastian joined him soon enough, his tray loaded with various foods. He looked at Fletcher’s meager portion with a single raised eyebrow.

  “Not very hungry today?”

  Fletcher shrugged, unable to shake the discomfort of the mess hall. “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Rough day?”

  “Rough two months.”

  “I’m sorry, Fletcher. I had hoped things would go differently, but—”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. It’s how life goes.” Fletcher picked up the limp sandwich, internally sighing at the thought of having to eat it.

  His dad slid a plate piled high with meat and potatoes onto his tray. “Try this. The deli is notorious for… lesser quality food during busy times.”

  Fletcher gratefully accepted the much better option, but he’d only made it a single bite in before Nora slid into the seat next to him with her own tray of food.

  “If it isn’t my two least favorite family members,” she said, jabbing her fork into a grilled chicken breast.

  “Hello, Nora,” Sebastian replied diplomatically. “Seems like everyone’s in a bad mood today.”

  “There are plenty of other tables,” Fletcher pointed out after swallowing his bite of potatoes. Deities, that tasted good, but he had a feeling that was due more to his day-long fast rather than the actual quality.

  “And miss out on this precious family time? Never.” She ripped a chunk of meat off and stuck it in her mouth, chewing loudly while still speaking. “What else have you been up to today, Fletch? More sulking?”

  Before Fletcher could reply, his father stepped in.

  “Knock it off, you two. I’m not in the mood to listen to you guys argue..” He sawed at a porkchop.

  “Fine, fine. No arguing for the old man’s sake.” Nora still had a full mouth of food.

  “At least we can agree on that,” he said, less hungry now that his sister’s presence was forced on him.

  Nora was surprisingly chatty given their earlier fight—or rather her beating him up that morning—and Fletcher learned a great deal of gossip about people he’d never met. She then patted Fletcher on the head and said goodbye, leaving Fletcher alone with his father again.

  “I’m glad you two are starting to get along,” Sebastian said.

  “I’m not sure I would go that far,” Fletcher replied sourly.

  His dad smiled. “It’ll get better. Just give it more time.” He sighed. “Speaking of time, we should go. I need to get a little more work done before tonight.”

  Fletcher nodded and followed his father out of the cafeteria, grateful to be away from the claustrophobia it caused. His father took him back to the apartment and then left back for work, leaving Fletcher to get more reading in. The hours passed far too quickly before Sebastian returned again.

  Fletcher glanced at his watch—a worn leather one that was a family heirloom on his father’s side. “I guess that means it’s time already. I should go get ready. Is Nora coming tonight?”

  “Yes,” his father answered.

  “And Mom?”

  “As far as I know.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Do we have to do dinner with them after?”

  “It might be our last chance to eat as a family for years,” his dad reminded him.

  “Thank goodness for that.” Fletcher stood up. “I’m going to get ready.”

  He left his father behind on the couch and went to the bathroom. A small cabinet in there held his few clothes, most of them borrowed from his father. He changed into something more presentable than his cargo pants and t-shirt, opting for a button down and slacks.

  Fletcher turned his attention to the mirror, his eyes darting away from his reflection as he noticed the maroon irises. He knew he should be used to them, but he’d spent twenty-six years of his life with green eyes, so adjusting to such a stark change wasn’t easy. Not to mention that it was a constant reminder that he lost a tiny part of his Humanity for the rest of forever. Mustering up the courage to deal with seeing his reflection, he did what he could with his sandy blond hair, running wet fingers through it a few times. Finally, he brushed his teeth before returning to the living room.

  His father was still there, typing something on his tablet. As a high ranking military official, Sebastian got access to personal technology that lowly soldiers and civilians didn’t.

  “Ready?” He glanced up at Fletcher.

  “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

  Sebastian led the way into the hallway, which Fletcher appreciated given he still had very little knowledge of the base. He only really went out with his father or to medical appointments for his leg, so he had seen little else of the base so far.

  They went through a few hallways to an elevator, up several floors, and then through another tangle of corridors. Fletcher knew he had a good memory, but there was no way he’d remember all of this. It didn’t help that he was nervous for the upcoming ceremony. He shouldn’t be, but this did mark a rather large change in his life. It kind of represented the final nail in the coffin of what he used to be, and it was hard to accept that this was all happening.

  Eventually they came to a set of double doors which led to a formal room that Fletcher recognized as one similar to the room where he’d completed his citizenship oath for the Mixed. The saying FREEDOM FOR ALL engraved on the back wall alongside the flag of the Mixed which represented the new planet formed from the Merger sixty years prior. A military official greeted him and his father.

  Nora and his mother showed up soon after. Nora wore her usual rakish grin while Hazel Anders was pure ice. Her brown, gray, and blue hair—the only outward sign of her [Sylph] Hexing—was pulled back into a slick bun, and she wore a formal military uniform, decorated with her rank and a dozen other recognitions.

  “General.” The official saluted.

  Hazel dismissed the salute casually, almost looking annoyed to be there at all.

  “Thank you for holding a private ceremony, Lake,” Sebastian said. “We appreciate your discretion.”

  “Of course. I’m happy to assist. It’s not every day a general’s son gets sworn in,” the official said, ducking his head. He was far larger than a regular Human might be, likely making him part [Golem] or [Ogre]. “Shall we?”

  Hazel, Sebastian, and Nora all took seats in the front room while Fletcher stood near the official. It was awkward since normally this kind of thing was done in a group, but given Fletcher’s mother was rather important, they set up a private ceremony for him instead.

  The swearing in went quickly given he was the only one, and the official shook his hand before presenting him to his family like he was some kind of hero. It was strange to think that such a brief thing marked such a monumental change in his life.

  The official left, giving the four Anders their privacy for the moment.

  Nora smacked him on the back. “It’s official, Fletch. You’re a recruit which means you have to do anything I say. And I want you to give me ten laps around the room.”

  “Knock it off.” Fletcher shrugged her hand off.

  She grinned. “Oh, training is going to be so fun for you. I get tingly just thinking about how much you’re going to suffer.”

  “Wow. Thanks. I really appreciate the encouragement.” He glared at her.

  “If you two can stop bickering like little kids for a night, maybe we can go out to dinner,” Sebastian suggested.

  “I already had something prepared,” Hazel responded. “I’d prefer we celebrate in private.”

  Fletcher glanced at his father who seemed as surprised as him that his mom took any kind of initiative, but without questioning her, they all followed her from the room.

  It was a long walk back through hallways and an elevator. Not to mention they had two soldiers as an entourage since the General was with them, but eventually they arrived at a private dining space, just like the one they used for Fletcher’s birthday dinner almost two months before.

  The meal laid out wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was a lot better than what Fletcher was used to eating since he’d been in charge of cooking all the meals for him and his father, and he was no chef.

  They all sat down at the table and loaded up their plates in relative silence. Fletcher knew he should probably say something to break it, but it was weird being around his mother. He really wished that he’d pushed back harder on the whole “family dinner” thing because as good as the food smelled, it was hard to stomach it with his mom nearby.

  Sebastian cleared his throat quietly and glanced at Fletcher. Okay. Fine. He would do it.

  “General, Nora,” he began.

  “Why does she get her rank, and I only get my name? Do you not respect me?” Nora interrupted him.

  Fletcher rolled his eyes. “General. Captain. Thank you for coming to support me tonight. I appreciate it.”

  The words sounded more bitter than he wanted them to, but he was trying hard to sound sincere.

  “How do you do it, Fletch?” Nora asked, taking a bite of her food.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who is this consistent at being a total jerk all the time. Like I assumed that at some point you’d get sick of acting like a snot-nosed brat, but somehow you preserve.” She ripped apart a roll, smiling at him the whole time she spoke.

  “Come on, Nora,” Sebastian said.

  “Let them go, Sebastian. Or do you not think Fletcher’s capable of defending himself even in an argument?” Hazel questioned. “He might have grown a backbone if you’d let him struggle occasionally for himself.”

  Sebastian scoffed. “Is that really what you want to bring up now, Hazel? You can disagree with my parenting all you want, but it’s not going to change how he turned out.”

  “Long pause, no answer.” Nora glanced back at Fletcher. “I guess that means you recognize your own failings. That’s at least a start, though I’m not sure there’s much hope for you ever improving. Not with that kind of ego.”

  “Oh yes, because insulting me is really cool and mature. Good job, Nora. You win at whatever stupid game you think we’re playing,” Fletcher said.

  “You raised our son to be a teacher who screws freaks in his free time. Are you really going to defend your parenting?” Hazel accused.

  “You’ve all heard of freak-lover, but now get ready for freak-screwer,” Nora cheerfully added.

  “I told you this was a bad idea, Dad.” Fletcher stood up. “Thank you all for wasting my time. Hazel, Nora, I’ll see when I see you again, and if I’m lucky that will be never. Good night.”

  Fletcher walked out the room, his blood boiling just under the surface. He hadn’t seen his mom since the hospital, and he had almost forgotten how much he hated her. Adding in Nora and her constant teasing, and the entire situation was unbearable. His dad didn’t follow him out, which was a relief since Fletcher had some hard feelings there as well.

  It took a lot of walking and wrong turns until he reached the quarters again, but once inside, he grabbed a snack from the fridge and downed it as quickly as he could. After he changed, he curled up on the couch with some blankets since all he had to do was reread the same old books or sleep.

  He laid there for an hour or so until his dad got back, but he kept his back to the door.

  “Fletcher, are you awake?” his father asked.

  He didn’t move.

  “I’m sorry about tonight. Your mother… she does care about you. She just has her own way of expressing it,” Sebastian continued.

  Fletcher didn’t say anything.

  “I have to be in early tomorrow, but I’ll see you in the afternoon. Goodnight.”

  Sebastian walked away as Fletcher remained curled on the couch, longing for the life he left behind.