Book 2 The Gods of Light and Liars

Chapter Three: Irritation

Hawk was left unmolested, so she went to the mess hall. It was set up on the floor just beneath the roof. Undoubtedly Kaiser was going to make the General—his last name seemed to be Mulligan—forget every word Hawk had said, save for the ones he wanted the general to remember. Fantastic. If she might as well not be here, she'd find something to eat. And resentments aside, she personally felt she'd dispatched herself well. She hadn't vomited too much of the unbelievable truth out, she hadn't broken down in tears, and she hadn't given Kaiser an inch. But she was at one singular disadvantage here: She was a woman, and these were two men from the wonderful world of paid misogyny. Kaiser would have the General remembering a hysterical, overeducated scientist in very short order.

She had to give her name twice, and they had to phone security, but she was given a meal of Frito pie, one apple, and one container of water. She said thanks, was ignored, and went off to find someplace to eat and get comfortable. She waited another half minute, but no one from upstairs followed her. Neither Em nor Dyson. Well, her two friends were probably going to work on getting their affairs in order. You know. Just in case.

She'd been munching for a few minutes when two MPs walked over to her table. She groaned, inwardly, but said, "Yes?" as civilly as possible.

"General Mulligan would prefer it if you stayed within eyeshot." They said, and rocked back onto their heals.

"Is he scared I'm going to steal the chili?" She said. But they stared straight ahead and didn't give her an inch. Oh, she hadn't missed Alex nearly so much as she did right now, when he would have fucked with them until they all wound up as very good friends. The best she could manage was to continue eating.

The guard nearest her, the female one with Duchamps on her lapel, said, "Now."

"Okay. Let me rephrase this for you people. Doctor West, would you please follow us back to the roof." She motioned towards those doors with every word. "That is how you ask politely."

"This is a military operation, ma'am. You're expected to follow orders."

"I'm expected to follow orders. Except I'm pretty sure those orders are going to be to sit down and stay out of your way while you go barrelling forward in ways that will waste time that we do not have."

"This is a search and rescue—"

"No. It isn't. Not anymore. You just haven't had enough time to figure that out yet." But her stomach had soured over with the chili. "Fine. I'm not hungry anymore." And she got up, half throwing herself in front of the MPs. They lead her to the elevator without touching. Finally, the doors were closed. The elevator began to move.

A hand reached out and stopped the elevator. The female MP, Duchamps, grabbed her shoulder and flung her into the wall of the elevator, hard.

"First off, West, I do not appreciate being treated like the enemy before I've had a chance to earn it. Second, I understand your hostility. I have a cousin in Bittermoss School."

Hawk's gut plummeted down to her feet. "Oh, God—Look, I—"

"I lied." Duchamps said. "But the General ordered me to see if you really believed that the children at Bittermoss were dead. Based on the way you just nearly vomited on my shoes, you do. But you think your husband is alive?"

"It's not that simple. And I have no provable way to explain it. But yes. I do believe that the children down in that hole are dead." She paused. "But we'll be finding their descendants, if we find a way in."

The two MPs glanced at each other. The female, Duchamps, said, "You've probably got another minute before they'll notice we locked down the elevator."

"Alex would have been inside the Prism. Maybe with other people, maybe alone. I don't know. The things inside the Prisms get...changed. We don't know exactly why, but it seems to shield other, similar lifeforms from the effects of Glass energy. We're calling them Archetypes. I think that's what Alex has become. Archetypes are much longer-lived than normal lifeforms—we think."