Fletcher stood with his backpack on the train platform, saying goodbye to Beam for what would be a four week trip back to Alcett, lasting until the new year. He wore slacks and a dress shirt since he had so few casual clothes, and he had only a couple extra clothing articles packed in his backpack alongside his books and laptop. He mostly planned to use the clothes he’d left at his dad’s before he came to the city.

  “Make sure to tell Light ‘hi’ for me.” Beam held Fletcher’s arm close as they walked towards his train. The heat of her body warmed him through his clothes, reminding him just how much he was going to miss her during the holidays.

  At the same time, he was relieved to be getting out of the city for a while after the brutal town hall meeting with Minister Vi’le the day before in which Fletcher had been forced to relive every moment of the attack. To make matters worse, the [Goblin] added his own spin on the tale to paint Fletcher as some kind hero.

  “Of course. I didn’t tell anyone about going back early, so I’ll get to surprise them all,” Fletcher said with a grin.

  “And don’t do anything stupid. No more getting shot at, by Hexed Humans or Unhumans, you hear?” she replied firmly.

  “I’ll do my best to avoid it,” he assured her with a laugh.

  “I’m going to miss you.” She pressed her face against his chest. “But I’m glad you get to go home. It’ll be good for you, just hard for me.”

  “It’s hard for me too, you know. I can’t imagine going a single day without you, much less a month.” Fletcher wrapped his arms around her. “Maybe next time I go to Alcett, you can come with me, meet my dad and all that jazz.”

  “I’d like that, if we can manage to get through all the paperwork required for something like that. You Humans don’t let just anyone into your colonies,” Beam said.

  Fletcher sighed, noticing the time on one of the many clocks hanging around the platform. “I’ve got to go, but I promise, next time you’ll come with me no matter what, okay? It’ll be fun.”

  She squeezed him a little tighter before letting go. He leaned down and pecked her lips.

  “Bye, Fletching.”

  “Bye, Beam. I’ll see you in a few weeks,” he promised as he walked towards the train. He waved one last time before entering the car and taking one of the few remaining empty seats. People stared, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as when he first moved to Bren’it’p.

  The next twenty-eight hours on the train were even more boring than when he came into Mythia. Luckily, there were no terrorist attacks or even any kind of anti-humanist incidents with the Unhumans onboard.

  At Vericin, most of the Unhumans got off, and a plethora of Humans boarded, marking the first time in months Fletcher had seen others of his species. He smiled as they passed by, and the car got crowded enough, his lonesome row had two others approach it.

  “Hey there. Mind if we sit?” the man asked. His skin was an olive-tan, one of the few remaining people of Middle Eastern descent if Fletcher had to guess, and his black hair was cut short. He wore a fairly heavy coat and jeans, same as the woman accompanying him. She had lighter skin, but similar dark, curly hair.

  “Not at all.” Fletcher slid all the way to the window so the couple could join him. “You guys work at the embassy in Vericin?”

  “Oh, no. We are stationed out in Cal’ri. We’re just transferring to the main train back to Earth,” the woman answered. “I’m Nassa. This is Gerald.”

  “Nice to meet you both. I’m Fletcher,” he answered, shaking both their hands. “Where are you headed to?”

  “Boison,” Gerald replied. “Yourself?”

  “Alcett.”

  “Ah, you’ve got a long ride ahead of you,” the man responded. “Sorry to crowd you in for the night. Where are you coming from then?”

  “Bren’it’p,” Fletcher answered honestly.

  Nassa and Gerald both froze, staring at him in disbelief.

  “I didn’t know we had an embassy out there. The Unhumans normally keep us relegated to the border cities,” Nassa said at last, shaking off her surprise.

  “There’s no embassy,” Fletcher said with a half smile. He should have thought about this before he started up the conversation.

  “So you’re out there with just your small grouping of Humans? Isn’t it difficult being among so few of our species?”

  Fletcher shrugged. “I’m actually the only Human in the city, but it hasn’t really bothered me that much.”

  “I see. You must enjoy being around Unhumans immensely to handle that sort of lifestyle,” Nassa said slowly, obvious judgment in her voice.

  An awkward tension remained in the air, and Fletcher decided it might be best to leave things off where they were. He’d forgotten how disapproving others of his species got when it came to Unhumans.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day, so I think I’m going to try to get some rest.” He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, counting down the minutes until he was off the train.

  ***

  The early afternoon sun did little to warm Fletcher up as he exited the train at the Alcett station. Hints of a recent snow storm showed in small piles of white dotting the fields which separated the wall from the inner city.

  Since it was a Tuesday, his dad would be at work, and Fletcher didn’t have keys to the apartment or a cellphone so he was going to have to drag himself all the way to the warehouse district. Before he could do that he would need to go through another security screening and find the money exchanger to turn his Unhuman coins in for some Human cash.

  Fletcher followed the flow of others lining up for the customs counter to get cleared to enter the colony, wishing for the millionth time he’d brought a heavy coat with him. He’d left his coat behind since he’d never used it while in Bren’it’p and stupidly forgot just how much colder it got in Alcett during the winter. He trusted—or at least really hoped—his dad would have a spare for him to use while he was here.

  The line moved slowly, but at last his turn came, and since he’d been in Unhuman territory, he was directed into one of the small rooms with Human officials who would watch him empty his bag to prove he’d brought nothing dangerous back.

  As harmless as some items seemed, certain artifacts and relics from Mythia were imbued with Hexing radiation that could trigger at any unexpected time, so it was the duty of the colony to ensure nothing suspicious made it within the safety of the city.

  After the embarrassing task of showing two other people all the clothing he packed, including his undergarments, Fletcher was free to repack and officially enter the colony. In the lobby of the transportation hub, he went to the exchange counter and got most of his money turned into usable cash.

  That meant all he had to do was catch a bus into the city and then another one to his dad’s work, a place he was intimately familiar with after all the hours he spent there as a kid.

  Fletcher stepped out of the building, but as he was walking towards the bus stop where most of the other passengers waited, someone grabbed his arm.

  “There’s been a slight problem with your passport, sir. If you could just come with me,” the man said. He wore the typical uniform of the custom workers, but Fletcher had never heard of someone’s passport bringing up issues this long after it was scanned. Still, he followed the man to a room that looked eerily like an interrogation room used by the military.

  The man took his backpack and then left him alone in the room to sit at the lone table. There was a chair on either side, confirming his theory about what this space was normally used for. Would coming back earlier than he originally planned caused some kind of issue? Reasonably they wouldn’t be able to hold him on anything. All he did was come back to his home colony a couple weeks sooner, and as far as he knew, that wasn’t any kind of crime.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The door opened, and Fletcher’s stomach dropped as two military officials entered, both he recognized from the night he met with General Taki. The first was one of the officers who escorted him to and from the meeting. The other was the sour face of Captain Monroe.

  “Mr. Anders. A pleasure to see you again,” Monroe said, her lips stuck in a permanent semi-frown.

  “Captain,” he greeted her, ignoring her outstretched hand. “What’s this about?”

  “You’ve come back more than two weeks earlier than we were told to expect you. Why?” She sat down in the chair opposite from Fletcher as the other officer stood at the door with his arms crossed in front of him.

  “I got a little homesick so I worked it out with Minister Vi’le to spend all of my vacation time in one go. It’s a long journey back and forth, so it gives me maximum time with my family this way,” Fletcher answered.

  He wasn’t about to confess to all the problems that had built up while he was in Bren’it’p, especially not the assassination. Monroe would only use that information against him or give it to Taki as more reason to prepare for war, and Fletcher wasn’t about to have a hand in bringing about the Third Unhuman War.

  “How convenient that you were able to do that,” she said, her eyes cold. “I see you didn’t bother bringing the journal with you. Isn’t it a little dangerous to leave something so personal in the hands of the Unhumans?”

  Fletcher laughed and shook his head. “Who cares about the journal? It’s empty except for the photo anyway.”

  Monroe’s frown deepened. “That is… unfortunate to hear.”

  “I told you I wouldn’t be doing any spying, and I meant it,” he said resolutely.

  “Not any spying for us, you mean.” The Captain looked at him, her eyes holding a malicious glint in them. “This does explain why the Unhumans sent you back so early.”

  Fletcher rolled his eyes. “I’m not a spy for them either. I’m a teacher. I run Bren’it’p’s education program and nothing more.”

  “Spies typically don’t admit to being spies,” Monroe said with a grin. “You understand that these are serious allegations, so we’ll have to investigate fully. Get comfortable Mr. Anders. This will take some time.”

  Captain Monroe stepped out of the room for a few minutes, and when she returned, she held a tablet in hand.

  “Shall we begin? Why don’t you tell me about the first time you ever met Minister Vi’le,” she suggested, settling into her chair.

  Fletcher internally cursed the universe as he did as she asked. Monroe was right about it taking time. A lot of time, as in hours of the two of them discussing every minor conversation he’d ever had with an Unhuman before moving to Bren’it’p and then him giving a full accounting of everything he did while living in the city—except the assassination which he ensured remained his own secret. He was to the point that he was ready to simply bang his head against the table until they set him free by the time Captain Monroe pushed the tablet to the side, marking what he assumed would be the end of the torture.

  “Well, Mr. Anders, your story seems to check out, at least at the surface level. My superiors will be going back over these notes, and if we have any questions or concerns, we’ll contact you. For now, you’re free to go,” she declared.

  “Thank the deities,” Fletcher breathed as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “Enjoy your stay in Alcett. We’ll be in touch,” she threatened.

  The woman stood and motioned Fletcher to the door, one of the few times he actually wanted to comply with her directions. He eagerly made his way there where the other officer led him into the hallway. When they reached the lobby area again, one of the custom workers returned his bag to him, and the officer remained behind, marking his full freedom from the interrogation.

  As much as he wanted to dump the contents of his backpack then and there to investigate what they may have removed from it or added to it, he had enough sense to wait for such things until he had a little privacy, so, instead, Fletcher stepped out the door into the late afternoon sun.

  There was no one else at the bus stop, which suited him just fine. After the past few days he’d had, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in a corner with a book to forget his very real and looming problems. They ranged from minor inconveniences like figuring out what to get his dad and each member of the Ortega family for Christmas to deciding if he was going to tell anyone about his girlfriend or the assassination attempt and then all the way to the clandestine government threat hanging above his and his father’s heads.

  The bus arrived quickly, and only thirty minutes later, Fletcher was being dropped off at the heart of Alcett where the majority of the bus routes ran. Checking the time on the old watch he wore, he decided to head to the warehouse, trusting that his father would still be there. Imagining the joy on Sebastian’s face from his early return was enough to provide him the extra energy to find the appropriate bus and make the last leg of the trip.

  For the first few stops of the bus ride, they remained in the inner-city, surrounded by tall towers, but it soon gave way to a large field of metal storehouses which contained all supplies going in or out of the city. Fletcher got off at the third stop in the district, only a short walk from his father’s section.

  Warehouse Block C was the second largest of all the blocks, covering over two dozen different facilities that handled all non-perishable food items. Fletcher was familiar with each of the buildings, and he hoped that his instinct was right about his dad being in his office this late in the day.

  None of the workers offered him a second glance as he walked through the maze of buildings and containers, most probably figuring him to be some young business man. It’d been a long time since Fletcher routinely spent time around the warehouses, and most of the workers he’d known as a kid were either foreman who were too busy to notice his arrival or flat out retired.

  Warehouse C-2 was where Sebastian Anders’ office was, located above the main loading dock so he could watch when shipments came in. He’d always been a hands on man when it came to running his facilities, something Fletcher admired about him. There weren’t many workers around, and those that were there seemed to be distracted and loitering about without doing any real work, but he didn’t think much of it.

  Fletcher smiled when he saw movement from his dad’s office, relieved he wasn’t going to have to ask around to find him. It would be good to have the surprise in private so they could properly enjoy the moment.

  “And where do you think you’re going, kid?” a gruff voice said from behind just as he reached the stairs.

  He pivoted, forcing a smile as he faced the burly man who’d spoken. A foreman, but not one Fletcher knew.

  “I’m going to see Mr. Anders,” he answered simply. “I have some business with him.”

  “Anders isn’t available at the moment. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” the man replied.

  “I think he’ll make an exception for me,” Fletcher insisted, turning back to the stairs.

  The man grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from going up. “I said Sebastian is unavailable the rest of the day. You’d best get out of here.”

  Fletcher’s worn patience snapped, and he threw the man’s hand off of him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see my dad.”

  “Dad?” the man echoed. “Deities, of course you are. Sebastian mentioned his freak-loving son was coming back for the holidays. Get out of my sight, freak-lover.”

  “With pleasure.” He shouldered his backpack higher and started up the steps. He focused on regaining his positive attitude, reminding himself how great the moment with his father was going to be. His dad would be stoked to see him so much sooner than expected, no doubt about it.

  All that positivity disappeared in an instant as Fletcher opened the door to the office and found a foreman with his dad, holding a cloth to a gaping, bleeding wound on his father’s head. Dark bruising was visible along one of his hands, alongside a set of clumsy stitches.

  “Dad, deities, what happened?” he said, rushing to his father’s side.

  “Fletcher?” Sebastian asked, blinking in surprise. “Sheesh, maybe I should go to the hospital for a concussion check after all, Jeremy.”

  “He’s real, Sebastian. I see him too,” the foreman assured him.

  “Fletch, what are you doing here?” Sebastian said, using his good hand to grab Fletcher’s arm. “I wasn’t expecting you for another two weeks.”

  “Let’s talk about that later. I want to know what happened, and then we should get you to a hospital,” Fletcher said.

  His dad waved off his concerns. “Just a little accident, nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Accident,” Jeremy sniffed. “More like attempted murder.”

  “It’s nothing,” his father replied.

  “That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Fletcher pointed out. He looked at Jeremy. “What happened?”

  “Someone decided to drop two tons worth of canned goods on your dad’s head while he was completing inspections. No one saw the culprit,” the foreman explained.

  “If there even was one,” Sebastian said. “For all we know, it could have been faulty machinery.”

  Fletcher sighed, believing Jeremy’s version of the story more than his father’s. “When did this happen?”

  “About an hour ago,” Jeremy said. “We already had the onsite paramedics take a look at him, but he refuses to go to the hospital.”

  “Dad,” he huffed. “That’s nonsense. Let’s get you into a doctor.”

  “Fine, but only so the two of you will stop pestering me,” Sebastian begrudgingly agreed.

  Together, Fletcher and Jeremy helped him stand, each taking one arm around them, and the three of them left the office behind. With every step. Fletcher felt his anger growing.

  It was one thing for General Taki and Captain Monroe to threaten him and even hold him hostage, but things had escalated far beyond what he’d expected in such a short time. They’d actually tried to kill his father. The worst part was, there was nothing Fletcher could do about it without helping to start a war.