“Mmhmm. And was it before or after you bumped into the [Vanara] that God Himself appeared?” Palacios asked.

  Fletcher resisted the very strong urge to smack his superior right in the jaw.

  “Oh, come on, Major. This is a serious piece of fiction. Dixon wouldn’t put something that unbelievable in it,” Jana argued.

  They were in Palacios’s office after Fletcher’s very quick return to the base to inform the other two officers about what he discovered while taking care of the sensors. But, in a not-so-shocking turn of events, neither of them believed him in the slightest.

  “Tell me, what do you think I gain from lying about something like this?” Fletcher gripped the armrests on his chair tighter. “Why would I make up a story about Unhumans attacking for fun? Do I look that insane?”

  “Not insane. Just maybe a little bored,” Palacios answered. “You’re always pestering me about letting you do new projects. Isn’t that sensor thing keeping you busy? Why this?”

  “It’s not a ‘project.’ It’s an upcoming attack that we need to be preparing for. They could strike any minute, and you’re going to call me a liar just because you’re lazy?” Fletcher stared at the Major incredulously. He knew that Palacios and Jana had no interest in fulfilling their actual duties, but shouldn’t this mark an exception? Wasn’t it in their best interest to live?

  “I didn’t call you a liar,” Palacios replied. “I’m just saying that you might need to get your eyes checked.”

  “I know what I saw. Let’s go out to the jeep, and I’ll take you there,” Fletcher insisted.

  Jana shook her head. “You’re really desperate for entertainment, aren’t you kid? Try drinking or gambling. Or maybe smoking.”

  “You’re both unbelievable. You really won’t even investigate my claim? You’re going to risk the lives of everyone in this base just because you don’t feel like doing a little work.” He stood up, his mind already thinking of what else he could do about this very immediate problem.

  “I’m not your nanny, Dickens. I’m not going to investigate every daydream you have just because you don’t like it here. Now go away.” Palacios leaned back in his chair.

  Jana also stood up and followed Fletcher from the office, giggling every step of the way.

  “Unhumans at Vesi. You gotta work on making your stories a little more believable. But this was fun. I haven’t seen Palacios that annoyed in years. Let’s do this again in a few months and see if we can really blow his top,” Jana said.

  Fletcher shoved her. “Shut up. This isn’t some story. We are going to be in battle very soon, and we are not ready.”

  Jana rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Dixon. If you think it’s that concerning, go pester someone else about it. Maybe Hugo or Norton will follow you into ‘battle.’” She did air quotes with her fingers.

  He bit his lip. He knew Jana was only joking, but he could try appealing to the enlisted personnel. They might care a little more about not dying than the officers.

  “Good idea. I’ll try that,” Fletcher said, changing direction so he was headed to the barracks.

  “Oh goody. I want to watch,” Jana said, still following him.

  Aware of how little time they might have until the Unhumans struck, Fletcher turned his walk into a jog with Jana behind him, complaining frequently. As they reached the barracks, Fletcher yanked the door open and dashed in.

  “There are Unhumans in the ruins. We need to prepare for battle,” he called out.

  Nobody moved except to stare at him.

  “What? Are you guys deaf? Get ready. We’re under attack,” Fletcher yelled.

  “From what? All the mold you killed?” Hernandez replied.

  Everyone laughed.

  “I was out on patrol, and I ran into Unhuman soldiers. They’re going to attack us,” Fletcher insisted, despite his waning confidence.

  “Sure. There are Unhumans at Vesi, and I’m part-[Demanlic],” Hugo said.

  “I’m being serious.” He stared at the amused faces looking back at him.

  “So am I, Lieutenant Asshole. Don’t you see my big angel wings?” Hugo flapped his arms at his sides.

  The room broke into more laughter.

  Fletcher stopped himself before he could reply. Anything more he said would be a complete waste of breath and time. They didn’t believe him, and they didn’t care. No one here cared about anything but their next drink.

  Pivoting sharply, Fletcher left the barracks behind to a chorus of more laughter. Jana’s high pitched laugh was the loudest as she joked more with Hugo about that stupid [Demanlic] comment. Idiots. All of them.

  He started towards the armory, but he stopped as he considered that there was one resource he left untapped. Heading back to the stairs, Fletcher ran down them and went to the temporary office/shop where George faithfully worked on putting together more of the sensors.

  “George,” Fletcher said breathlessly. “There are Unhumans in the city. They’re probably going to attack us. I need your help to defend the station.”

  The [Insectoid] looked up at him with the multitude of beady, red eyes, all of them wide and terrified. “Yes, sir. Whatever you say sir.”

  He knew George was only agreeing to it because he was too scared to say no, but Fletcher didn’t care. He needed someone to watch his back, and George was all he had. That would have to be enough, but something inside warned that it wouldn’t be. Not even close.

  “Come on. Let’s get ready and get outside.” Fletcher walked back to the door as George came behind, lagging in obvious discomfort.

  He led the way to the second floor where the armory was—well-organized now thanks to his efforts months ago. Fletcher put on a heavy coat, then a tactical vest, and then grabbed an extra set of grenades and ammo which he wore across his chest. He selected a submachine gun and a rifle alongside the usual pistol and knife he carried. That would hopefully be enough to start.

  George went a little lighter, taking just one automatic weapon, and then the pair of them carried a box of extra ammo between them as they left the room and went up the two flights of stairs to exit the base entirely.

  Fletcher glanced around the small runway which was enclosed by a mere chain link fence, leaving a clear view to the city below. At least they had the high ground, but with only him and George to fight, that probably wasn’t going to be enough.

  Not to mention they were like sitting ducks out in the open like this.

  Setting the box down at the center of the runway, Fletcher pointed to the garage with the vehicles. “Let’s get tires out and create some cover with them.”

  “Will that work to protect us?” George asked in a tense voice.

  “Yeah, of course,” Fletcher lied. There weren’t any other options, so it was the best they could do.

  Fletcher worked up a good sweat with all the effort of putting together cover, but after almost half an hour, they had plenty of spots to hide from Unhuman bullets. Hopefully the tires would mitigate some of the incoming fire, but Fletcher doubted the sturdiness of the tires given this was Vesi station, and they seemed to get the lowest quality version of everything.

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  “What now?” George asked.

  He knelt down with his gun in hand so he could see over the top of one of the tire stacks. “We wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For the Unhumans to make their move,” Fletcher answered.

  The sun was well past its peak, meaning it was only going to get colder outside, but that didn’t matter. Not dying was what mattered.

  George took up position a few yards away behind a different stack, his pincer mouth clicking as they sat.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Hours of quiet passed. And that unfortunately gave Fletcher a whole lot of time to think.

  And he thought a lot. About his family, about Beam and Bren’it’p, about Javier and Heather and his life in Alcett, about teaching, and then, finally, about killing.

  Should he do it? Could he do it?

  But if he didn’t fight the Unhumans, he would die. All of Vesi would die. Or worse, he’d be taken to a conversion facility, and turned into a full Unhuman with no memory of his life before. Unless they killed him before that once they discovered what he truly was as some freak-[Demanlic], something that shouldn’t exist.

  Everyone who knew his secret agreed that it should stay a secret. The world wasn’t ready to know that Humans could become [Demanlics], the equivalent of demigods in the Merged world. And Fletcher didn’t want to be that. He thought of when he saw a [Demanlic] when returning from his holiday trip to Alcett, and those red eyes staring into his own. No. He couldn’t let himself become that. He liked being Fletcher Anders, and he would fight to stay that way.

  He came to Vesi to avoid war, but the war found him anyway. That wasn’t his fault. Fletcher wasn’t going to be killing innocent Unhumans or plotting terrorist strikes that affected children. He was going to shoot at the people who shot at him first, and that was justified. It was self-defense. He’d killed before for that, and if he had to, he would do it again.

  [Dark Vision: Active]

  It was nighttime, and still he saw no sign of the Unhumans, even with his [Skill]. But what were they waiting for?

  “Why the delay?” he murmured to himself.

  “What’s that, Lieutenant?” George asked from where he huddled with his gun.

  “Why aren’t they attacking yet? What are they waiting for?”

  “Maybe they saw our defenses and decided not to attack,” the [Insectoid] said hopefully.

  “We hardly have what I would call defenses. I doubt that would turn them away if they really wanted to attack.” Fletcher stared out into the night, wishing for some sign from their enemies. What if he was wrong? Maybe they were just passing through.

  “Maybe they’re looking for a better way in,” George suggested.

  “This is the only entrance into the base. They have to come in through here.” Fletcher frowned.

  “Unless they unseal the catacomb entrance,” the [Insectoid] said.

  Fletcher turned to him with wide eyes. “What? The catacombs connect to the station?”

  George nodded slowly. “Yes. Down on the bottom floor. My job was to guard the sealed entrance and keep the rodent traps prepared so we didn’t get rats.”

  “Take me there.” He stood up with sweaty hands wrapped around his gun. Of course there was an entrance to the catacombs. Palacios had even mentioned it his first day at Vesi, but he’d forgotten about it with everything else he got busy doing. He didn’t remember ever seeing it, but George handled a lot of the cleaning and organizing on the bottom floor since Fletcher did the other three floors of the station.

  George sensed his urgency and jogged towards the entrance of Vesi Station with Fletcher on his heels.

  [Dark Vision: Inactive]

  They raced through the base, taking the stairs two at a time down to the bottom floor. They didn’t run into anyone, which was fine by Fletcher. He didn’t want to try to explain things to anyone else. They wouldn’t believe him anyway.

  The pair of them reached the bottom floor, and Fletcher raised his gun, aware that there could very well be Unhumans in the base already. Why, oh why, hadn’t he thought about the catacombs originally? The Unhumans were out in the ruins so of course they would use something like that. But hopefully they weren’t too late.

  George continued to move quickly, taking Fletcher to one of the very far rooms he’d been in perhaps once his entire time at Vesi. The [Insectoid] seemed especially protective of them, so he’d never pushed the issue of getting inside.

  The [Insectoid] opened the door, and Fletcher shoved past to be first inside, his gun raised.

  “Thank the deities. I think we made it in time,” he said, lowering his weapon as he took in the neat space. There was a large metal grate covering most of the floor, leading down to the catacombs, and there were a variety of mousetraps littering the floor—many of them full—but other than that, Fletcher saw nothing amiss.

  “Lieutenant,” George called out from behind.

  Fletcher turned, bringing his gun up as he saw a [Fairy] pop out from behind the door. Okay. Scratch that. The Unhumans were in the base.

  He shot at the Unhuman while George crouched down and put his arms over his head, screaming as the fight ensued.

  Fletcher was a much better shot than the [Fairy], and thanks to George’s warning, he shot her before she could shoot him in the back.

  The Unhuman dropped to the floor as Fletcher kept his gun up, his eyes scanning the rest of the room for others that might have slipped through. But the grate looked intact, so perhaps this was just a scout mission that leaned into stealth. They might still have a chance to defend against the incursion if they could just find all the ones that slipped in and then guard the catacomb entrance.

  “Alright, George. It’s over.” He yanked the [Insectoid] to his feet. “I need you to stand guard at the entrance. Don’t let anything through.”

  “You’re leaving me?” George asked with a shaky voice.

  “There are enemies in the base. I have to eliminate them. I’m going to track them down. You stay here on guard so no more get in.” Fletcher adjusted his rifle to be in a better position and took a breath. He could do this. Just like training. Only the bullets would kill him instead of tasing him. Whatever. It would be fine.

  Keeping his finger near the trigger, he stepped out of the room and back into the hallway, on guard for another enemy. Because there surely were more. The problem was Fletcher didn’t know how many or where they might be, especially if any of them had [Invisibility]. Hopefully the lights were enough to prevent the use of that [Skill], but he would have to be extra careful if he ran into any dark patches.

  “We need a [Skill]-shield,” he muttered. Vesi had one, but it was broken, and he’d never tried to fix it since that kind of delicate work was far beyond his rudimentary skills. Even Kenzo wouldn’t mess with something that sensitive, so it was useless. He would have to figure this out without the shield to rely on.

  Fletcher began a thorough check of every room on the floor. If any of the enemies had made it past this floor, he assumed they would have heard the fighting during their sprint to get down to the entrance. As long as the Unhumans were still down on this floor, he could handle them.

  He got to the hydroponics bay, the largest room on the floor, and the one with the most places to hide given all the garden boxes and shelves full of equipment, water containers, and extra seeds.

  It was difficult to find the right balance between cautious and haste given he sensed the need to do his check quickly in case the Unhumans escaped to the other floors while he was in one of the rooms. And he didn’t want to leave George alone for long given how terrified the [Insectoid] was. He didn’t have all that much faith George would be able to defend the catacomb entrance, but there was no one else to do the job.

  Fletcher rounded the first garden bed, and something flashed in the corner of his vision. Diving to the other side of the box, bullets exploded against the hodgepodge of wood and metal, sending bits of dirt and plants into the air.

  He got his gun up and blindly fired in the direction of the shooting until his opponent stopped firing. Then he got to a better position, crouching up so he could see. Curse those Unhumans. His tomato plants were toast.

  A gap between shelves showed his enemy—a [Gnome]—standing with his weapon at the ready. Fletcher adjusted his gun and took his shot, nailing the Unhuman.

  The [Gnome] cried out, and Fletcher leapt over the garden box and dashed to the fallen Unhuman. No one was around to see him use a [Skill] he shouldn’t have, and last time this worked wonders on helping him out of a tight situation.

  “How many of you are in the base?” Fletcher asked, grabbing the small man by his shirt. He was only three feet tall with deep green skin and a wispy beard. At the same time he interrogated the Unhuman, Fletcher used a thought to activate one of his few [Skills].

  [Activating; Read Thoughts]

  The [Gnome’s] thoughts filled his mind, all of it in the Unhuman language, and Fletcher’s language skills were rusty after so much time away from Bren’it’p.

  “How many? What’s your plan?” Fletcher asked, hoping to get something he could use.

  The [Gnome] coughed, the sound wet as his white blood spilled from the bullet wound Fletcher gave him. The thoughts were so faint, and then they were gone.

  [Deactivating: Read Thoughts]

  Fletcher dropped the body and made his way to the door in a hurry. Four more. Four more Unhumans in the base, and he knew where they were headed. The Unhumans thought Vesi Station was much more important than it actually was, and the point of the stealth mission was to target the leadership to disorient the soldiers when the real attack came. They were going after Major Palacios up on the first floor.

  And they had a big head start. Fletcher had to hurry if he was going to save Palacios’s life. There was no time to lose.

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