(It's) Always There - Ch. 17

Voices indistinct and blurred didn't give up how many people entered or were speaking with her, his ear pressed to the wall not catching any specific word, just that they weren't being loud. This state, and his place, remained until the door opened.

Case heard a man tell Navy, "Go sit over there. We'll talk more in a second."

The knock was for him next.

... He switched the lock and peeked out, the same pair as last night wanting to get in. It was allowed, the room shut behind them.

Roth explained matter-of-fact, "We're going to have a conversation with you three in the living room." What was behind their suspicious behavior was put forward, "We're giving you all a chance to say anything you might want to before that. Anything at all."

..."Don't need to."

One brow raised the slightest amount. He granted, "... Are you sure?"

Said it already. "Uh-huh."

It was accepted with a shrug, Case directed out and where to sit - on a couch opposite Navy's end of it, his boots at the side, the only seats in there made to face each other. The men outside Case's room were signaled to leave, as apparently had Navy's been, and the two went to see Hane with another knock. They were let in. Navy looked nervous. She was wearing her sling.

... He was surprised they'd give it to her.

...

In a short time, Hane exited and joined them, the last of the guards dismissed, and the two strangers seating themselves across from the group. His commander wasn't pleased, though was quiet.

Fia opened, "We haven't gotten a proper introduction to each other, so I'm Fia Conley, and this is my husband Roth. You probably guessed we're together already, though - it's hard to miss. Anyhow, we, and eight more - not including Ledger or Cerise I guess, so that'd be ten... - were there for your interviews. All of us discussed it for a long time, until about half an hour ago, and..." The lady bulldog put her words out like it had been carefully ordered, but not only by her. Like a formal statement. "Ballinger's leadership would like to offer you three a citizenship."

Roth took the follow-up. "... It's not forced, just, like she said, an offer. You'll be given this home to do with as your own, we have around the clock, seven days a week security, food, running water, working electricity, and a lot more all maintained by fifty people that live here; fifty-three citizens, if you stay, and every one of them has been with us for at least nineteen years since we built our wall, or was vetted exactly like you were... give or take some details."

... Hane was thinking. He tilted his head, and confronted them. "Why would I believe that?"

Fia's reply was almost automatic; it was prepared. Roth gestured to the side for her to not, and spoke in a way that sounded like a genuine question, "... Why not?"

The commander didn't respond. He stared.

"Listen..." the middle-aged woman courted, "we don't expect you to believe us, and if this isn't for you then we've already got all your stuff from outside, and you can go... However, we really want you to have a walk around with us and give it a chance. Give us a chance to prove we're telling the truth."

Case had no clue what to say. He ought to stay silent and defer to Hane... who he could understand was in a bad position. And when one of the Conleys plied a decision with a gesture of his face, he was given a contortion by Hane.

"... Sure."

They beamed a little and in their own ways. "Great!" Fia blurted. "... Or... Good; we're glad to hear it," she corrected, toning back to mostly professional.

...

No, it decidedly wasn't her that started it. Or she kind of had, but alongside her husband, and not unintentionally. The Conleys were allowing a natural break for whatever they wanted to ask in return... then cut through that when nobody did. Roth laid out, "To preface a bit, people were already told about you, so you won't be a surprise. Meaning - I'm sure you'll notice this - nearly everyone is armed, indoors and out; it's encouraged. There's also going to be people assigned to watch us at all times for obvious reasons." Condensing the point, he said, "I don't need to go through the list with you. If it looks to us like you might hurt someone, you'll be shot. I assure you these guns are real." Roth tapped his holster.

Case hadn't guessed their weapons were fakes.

"Well, if that'll be it..." Fia got up and asked around with her body language if the assumption was correct. Roth did as well... and soon they went along with him to the front entrance. Case and the rest of them were shown out first, their male chaperone noting on their way to the road, "Ballinger's not too big, so we'll take a lap so you can see the whole town. You'll get to see in a bunch of places later, but, y'know... feel free to ask whatever - that's what we're here for."

Odd as it was to notice it then, Case realized the cement was even, mostly uncracked, and its paint had survived in trailing, bright white and yellow streaks, the former as a perimeter and the second down the middle, some lines longer than others. Down where they walked at night was a long, straight path with, of course, the gigantic wall at their right. Up close he could tell that climbing it would be possible, but whoever was doing it would need serious grip to use the layers of metal, let alone not rip up their hands doing it. Certainly wouldn't be quick getting up, past layered barbed wire, and back down without jumping and snapping a bone.

The suburban area was sparsely littered with homes and other structures, what few he could see immediately different in shape and color, largely akin in size and their muted paints. This was one small part, the rest obfuscated by layers and layers of dry foliage, the taller ones' green contrasting tan grass like it did outside. Didn't seem very safe, leaving all this shit around; unlike outside.

Two homes past - between that and the third - was a gravel trail leading to a middle-road identically connected to Ballinger's opposite side, wall included, as it was all around on the horizon. Once the angle was right, Case was drawn away from concepting Ballinger's size by a man coming into view... and another right by. They faced away in lawn chairs, one drinking with their legs crossed while the other, it looked, smiled and talked. Interrupting them was someone in a hole at their front tossing out a shovel, reaching up, and yelling something indistinct. One of the men went over instantly, recontinuing their conversation as he lifted a boy out of the pit by his forearms. He was covered in dirt, wore a bandanna on his head, and was no more than ten.

Case realized the kid yelled, "Dude!"

The "man" that picked him up was at most fifteen.

Preventing the boy from dramatically falling over... He'd seen them.

Three strangers watched them until they were out of sight.

---

..."So yeah, that's the general way around. Four-tenths of a mile back down your road, one-tenth by the front gate, even length up the other side and to here. Almost exactly a, uh... mile." They knew, and Roth was aware of that. So... why?

They stopped, past the back gate. The perimeter had been walked, and the Conleys' awkward posturing got worse. Roth let out what they were so expectant of. "Not gonna make you, or anything, but... We usually have questions by now. To be frank, it's kind of hard to guide the conversation or convince you if we have no clue if you're wondering about This or That - we could go through every logistic part of the place in a row, and we would, though I'm guessing you don't want that, and are just... biding." That last part was directed at Hane.

... Hane was indeed quiet, and they did indeed appear willing to stand there all day until he asked something.

"Why's it so open?"

Fia jumped into the slight gap, "Excellent question! Our next stop, actually, was to one of those watchtowers so you could get a look at what goes on up there, and so we could talk about exactly the kind of thing you brought up." She tilted at the entrance to a post across from "their" home.

On their way to its serious-looking metal door, Fia prefaced, "Elias is here during the day, and of course if you want we can go see Tim, who's here at night. Both are good guys. We know it's a lot of responsibility," the lock clicked (more "snapped", by the sound of it), "allowing them to make important decisions and asking them to stay vigilant so long - plus, like everyone else, they have guns - and..." A moment was taken as everyone got to the stairs' base. "... We trust them. You'll see."

Light was shone in through small glass panels on the wall they entered from. There was, also, an unused lightbulb at its top center - by a hatch at the summit. Surprisingly the structure gave a lot more confidence it could stand upright once Case saw its frame made of solid, rustless steel. Of what he knew about materials like these and if they would buckle under someone's weight, he could tell it was planned and maintained well enough for that to not be an issue. The steps barely squeaked.

Preemptively, the ceiling unlocked, the guard on watch promptly sitting what sounded like in the above room's front middle. When they entered Roth exchanged a glance with Elias, gesturing something like, "I'll take it," to which the new man got up while Roth looked the same way he was - out a tinted window. A well-groomed lynx with a pelt colored like sand with darker stylings, thin in a strong kind of way, offered his hand and gave his introduction, "Elias Lurdy; pleased to meet you," with an accent Case had no way to describe further than, "Not from a Western continent." He continued immediately, "Don't give your names. I know already." Even as Hane shook hands when insisted, Case was undecided if his curt words were suave, dickish, or mentally deficient - like the kind where he'd been battered on the head one too many times.

"I'll get to explaining what I do, then." He nearabout started, delaying to get confirmation from Fia who wordlessly allowed him onward. "Yeah so I sit here all day, after sunrise to before sunset, then I switch with Tim who does nights. Boring - awfully boring... Window's got a good view, though." Elias motioned at it, the glass tinted and wall-spanning side to side and top to bottom, more of the same dark glass at its foot and side edges, a mechanism that looked to create an open gap in... material welded(?) together. "Sit, keep one eye on out there, another on that light up there... figuratively. Anyway that's how we send messages; button on the wall makes it flash so we do sequences that everyone gets." No smile made his excited chattering... off. "Personally I like using a shitty chair. Keeps me awake... Anything else or is that it?"

Fia stayed herself. They were supposed to reply.

... Hane inquired, "Do only you two work here? Twelve hour shifts back and forth?"

"Yep. Thirty guards, two here, eighteen total working about half the day every day, dozen more working the same shifts every other day, all across fourteen towers."

"What happens when you see someone?"

"If they're far, three rapid flashes then the post number, repeated twice. After backup gets here we discuss what to do with them then do that. If they're approaching then I have to decide if they should be killed, disabled, or confronted. For the first two there's a rope over there I can lift the window with, and I do the same for the third but only threaten them and get someone to go out. The bottom and side glass opens too, but I'm supposed to shoot through any of them if it's urgent or too dangerous not to."

"Can anyone see you in here?"

"Nope. Every post was checked from all times of day at different angles. Really all I can't do is open the window at sunset. Except that it's fine."

"What happens if you miss someone?"

"I don't. Never have. But if I did then that field is fucking loaded with mines. One wrong step, you're mist. And yes they're far enough apart to not set off a chain-reaction... Floodlights have plenty range for night, too, if you were gonna ask. And it's not just my side that was leveled - it's all of them. No trees, no buildings. Clear as could be."

"Do pests set off your mines?"

"I'm supposed to shoot them before they do - happened only once. That barbed fence around all of Ballinger city? One I'm guessing smells weird? We, not me, make and pump a deterring scent along it through a hose. Have to do it regularly I hear but its soaked in now."

In reference to the huge white warehouse past their field, Hane commented, "That's close."

"Trapped to-hell-and-back, as well. Take someone a week to disarm all of it. Too big to demolish, unfortunately. Point being it's not an issue for us, just whoever walks in there. We definitely watch it close, anyway."

"... What's the wall made of? Anyone ever climbed it?"

"Before I got here it was, but not since. It wasn't even done then... And it's made of random scrap they found bolted together then to a chain fence. A layer of that, packed barbed wire in the middle, another layer for inside. I guess you could blow it up, but... yeah not gonna happen."

"The gates?"

"Same thing minus the wire middle. I mean it would be easier to get through that way, if sprinting up to a guarded front door seems like a good idea. We tested it'd take over three minutes to cross the gap even as fast as one of those things can go."

"Someone ever take up the offer on your wall? They ever lie?"

"I haven't seen it... Nobody else, either, far as I know. It's a hail-Mary we did 'cause it might be effective. They all get vetted the same, Half-Deads can't respond... and bringing people in is Spotter work, mostly."

Elias defined what he meant, "Right. The guy who brought you in. There's four and they stay out there; got nice enough safe-ish places high up on the edges of the actual city of Ballinger, come in only for food and water or if they got someone, and they keep up the traps. Wouldn't have nearly as many people here if not for them. Danger's high but, like around us, there's so many traps that nobody's walkin' in their turf without getting caught. Don't have anything to keep up past like twenty meters out of town, either. None have died in a decade, and for good reason, is what I'm getting at."

..."How do those traps work?"

"Covered pits, leg traps, nets... things of that nature. Built for one or more. They set off an explosion that - trust me - is unbelievably loud, both when it's loosed and when they get out, except with a certain method. Spotters close in, maybe who they caught broke something but I don't think it's ever been fatal. Mostly they try to keep from dying themselves, and the captive from committing suicide."

"So why were we caught miles out of town?"

... Elias blinked a few times. "... I... I don't know. They didn't tell me that."

The direction of Fia's statement formed as it was said. "Sorry sorry. He, uh... Sorry, he did tell us that, we just neglected that it would come up, so he-"

"Fia," Roth soothed. He took a deep breath, for her, then went on in her stead. "The Spotter that found you guys, who'd like to stay nameless, did tell us about that. He knows he wasn't supposed to be there. However, if I'm honest, the four men who volunteered to do what he does are... eccentric. They..." Roth tried to phrase it right, "... It's their way or none. They do their job, we recommend how, and really they ignore us a lot. Things are... complicated with them. If you want his explanation, in the only words he gave, it's because, 'I wanted to be alone.'"

... The bulldog retook his duty, leaving Fia and Elias to their conversation. Some of her nerves faded... to be replaced by covert shame. And Case's commander observed.

Elias wasn't bothered, then the woman set right, "... That's not usually how I am. Everybody says that, I'm aware, so let's... No. I should have handled this better. If I upset you three by acting weird, I'm sorry - and we should have told Elias about that, also."

She, and their talk, went un-continuing.

... From the same person as last, "... We told Elias we might be here all day. Neither of us knew how much you'd want to know, so it's not an issue. Or we could talk somewhere else - we were going to meet Cerise for something to eat after this, if that's better."

Confirmation from the guard, "I don't get many visitors, so you're good to stay. Do whatever you want; this is half my life either way."

...

Hane returned, "Thanks for your time," then to Fia, "How about we go eat for now."

---

Their folding table flicked out, her husband arriving with and unfolding seven chairs - three and four on the longs ends.

Hane's arms were crossed. "Why here?"

"Huh?" the woman hesitated. It was certain she heard him. "We won't eat in the common area because you're... new, if you get what I mean? Plus, we eat by our house all the time since it's such a nice spot. Lots of shade." Presently under a tree's canopy, Fia rolled her eyes at herself playfully, remarking, "Duh," with a faint smile.

"I meant, 'Why is Ballinger here?'"

"Oh; lots of reasons. It's in the middle of nowhere, for starters, but it's just big enough to have all the resources we needed to make a place like this... Mostly it was deliberate, at least. Some of it was chance. Regardless, this part of town is secluded enough, it has a huge amount of viable land for farming - we'll show you that later - which is also divided from other structures, with a river for watering." She listed more, "We've got an electrical grid we made local, there's a water-tower in the city that one of the spotters maintains so we have running water and water pressure, Texas is dry and sunny but consistent, which is good for the solar panels, and it's so open not many people with bad intentions would come here. Also, me and Roth were beat cops Before, admittedly not for too long, but it meant here is... familiar. And we knew people we could trust."

... Fia began then halted. "... Maybe this isn't the best to say when we're about to have a meal, but, uh... You should know. And it's relevant!" She was averse, but convinced. "We use bio-waste as fertilizer, and the rest is directed to inside the city, where it's dry-... you don't need the details, then dispersed by a system in a sewage treatment plant outside the city proper. All quite safe, and If you want to know h-"

"Please stop describing how we dispose of our shit. We're about to eat."

"I said they should know...! And they should. But yes, I will."

Far behind the group, Cerise waved as Ledger and Roth did. Developing in a separate way, the man offered, "Ain't neither of us city-planners, or electricians, or much of farmers. By that I mean you can try and get us to explain what we know, it just won't be nearly what our construction guys can. Comparatively, we're toddlers trying to describe mad notes on celestial alignment. I one-hundred-percent believe Mackerel's real name is Merlin."

"Morning." Cerise went past them and claimed a corner seat, first putting a cushion on it to carefully settle down in. In the day, her age showed two-fold.

The Conleys sat on their side with Ledger, Roth gesturing for them to join. "Food'll be done here shortly - made morning, noon, and evening for everyone. No special meal, only normal rations." He led, "These two aren't here just for eating, though..."

... Hane sat across them, so he and Navy did, too. And Cerise wanted to talk.

"Look, I..." It wasn't anxiety or some other kind of nervousness, the fennec was simply, weirdly, pensive. "I want to do this now, and it's why I come out to meet almost everyone around this time when they're considering more time with us. So... The three of you don't know the same me, or Ledger. I wasn't completely honest with any of you, and I won't say where, but most of it wasn't a straight-up lie. None of it was an outright falsehood, or without any base in our real feeling, only an omission of our honest opinion. This isn't to downplay that it's a lie, I'm only telling you this to give a full picture of what happened and why so, hopefully, there's no lingering... misgivings. Ledger was part of this in your interviews, just less because he's more there to observe and learn for when I can't do this anymore." Cerise condensed what she wanted them to take from this. "I lied, and I'm sorry, but I don't regret it. If you choose to stay, then I don't want any bad feelings between us, and I promise everyone who heard what you said in there is very committed to your privacy. I won't breach that, and never have."

For the first time Case knew of, Ledger spoke. "We're not asking you to forgive and be our friends. It's just to clear the record."

...

They were good - it was expected, and that was the admission so there was no reason to ponder on the topic. They were good liars. Cerise was a good liar; Ledger could be no more than a meathead.

"Alright," his commander accepted half-sincerely.

Content, she turned to them and wondered, "And you two?"

..."Yeah okay. Don't worry about it."

The wolf shrugged. Whatever context she was saying this in, he didn't know it, nor was there reason to feign an emotion. Truth was acceptable.

"Dope," Ledger obliged, his mentor rewarding a flick on the shoulder and roll of her eyes.

..."Y'all keep makin' up. I'm hungry, and not wanting to scare anybody." Roth was around them before his wife could permit, "Alright," then speed-walked off at the street.

"Did you guys have a lot of meat?" their resident brain-studier wondered. "Out there."

Was there anything else to eat? Well there could be, except when travelling... and wild plants weren't enough. Hane cut the possible elaboration, replying, "Yes."

"Hm. I've got good news - or I don't know, maybe your itching for it by now - 'cause our diets are a whole lot else." Since when did she talk like that. "You'll get the rundown later at the farm. For now~... 'Breakfast is,' I saw this passin' by, 'grilled potatoes and carrots and steamed peach slices.'"

Fruit was an emergency food if hunting got exquisitely fucked; run around and pick it if someone was on the brink of starving and it was available - so never. It was a pain to find, would kill you if misidentified, wasn't filling, sometimes tasted really good, most of the time wasn't worth it... Vegetables were fine. Cooked was better. Overall the meal sounded adequate, Cerise's dumb grin suggesting it was more than.

"... Ever been to the South?" Fia asked.

The commander told, "Visited Before and After. More than once."

"Have you two?" the direction came from Cerise.

... Guess he'll go first. "No."

"... Me, uh... neither." She continued their chit-chat, "... It doesn't look like the Western movies." "Well not all of 'em, and some parts are like what you're thinking. Go west and there's a lot of land in Texas and other states that's pure desert - rocky, flat, all kinds." She chuckled, "Is it disappointing we're not all rustlers with cowboy hats and drawl thicker 'n tar?" The last of Cerise's question was dragged out in a strange...

Case figured out why they all talked like idiots. Unfortunately their desire to appear serious dropped with their normal accents, leaving... whatever that was. If he was honest, it had charm. Somehow.

Navy had taken a moment to figure out her response. "Um... not... No." The girl rocked back and forth slightly, eventually settling, eyes not on anyone.

To Hane, the elder woman pried, "What'd you do down here?"

"Visited family Before, nothing special After."

"Really? Who'd you see? And I mean, surely you were here for more than, 'Reasons.'"

"Dad's side was Texan. And the list of why to go somewhere isn't long."

"It is."

... He knew what Hane would say. It wasn't much of a story past the first bit of information - which told the rest by itself.

"... Okay. First time we were looking for new people and for my grandparents. Never found them, and didn't come back much; anywhere else is safer."

"Works in our favor, the landscape being how it is," she added neutrally, looking around like she could see the features mentioned. "... Must've been early when you did that - and I'm guessing you're from not too far. Can't imagine having a big group agree to travel weeks for a couple people's issue."

Fia stepped in. "You're not on the clock. Quit interrogating them."

"I am-" Putting aside how real the sense of affront was, "That wasn't even a question! It's a conversation. Everyone can do what they please and talk to me or not," was challenged with a mild recoil backward, face taught. Cerise assumed, "I don't think they mind," giving a chance to unify.

... The exchange was left out to shrivel.

Until... "It was early, and I'm from Oklahoma." Case recognized the state as central.

"S-" the fox tried to appreciate, shut down by an observation. "It was leading, ask or not."

"And you replied. Is not expression int-er-esting?" Huh? "Ope. There he is." Roth was pointed out rolling a near-perfectly hush cart at the road's bend, soon arriving with tiers of filled bowls. They - "the guests" - were served first, their meal as Cerise described with the carrots and potatoes in sorted half-circles on a ceramic plate while the peaches were heaped in a cup, every platter coming with a fork and open thermos of water. There weren't enough points of reference in his memory to say if the food was appealing, though in that moment he thought it smelled good.

"They do a good job flavoring it with what they have," Roth invited as the other three ate. "Some of 'em come up with real crazy stuff time to time, and we, their faithful tasters, get to try it and shield the good people from an outbreak. They can have great ideas... Occasionally. If kept in check."

Ledger spoke up. "My chow is great. World goes all kumbaya happy happy when I'm cooking but he got jealous and robbed 'the good people'."

After swallowing his bite, Roth poked in return, "You call it 'chow'. Stoners and fat fucks are the only ones that call it that. You ain't fat, and your expression most the time says either, 'Damn, I need a smoke,' or, 'Damn, I need a smoke.' Jail's there for a reason, and settin' foot in that kitchen means life without parole, y'hear?"

"Fia's in on it. Look," the youngest of them motioned at the woman, all three of them visibly entertained to differing extents. "They're cops. They suck at cooking. If we're honest, you should serve time." He had one more thing to say. "... Two joints and..."

Silverware (steel, iron...) clinked and clattered for a minute thankfully devoid of inane jabbering. Cerise regrettably broke this when she instructed Navy, "You don't have to wait for permission."

The girl didn't look her way. "I..."

To the older woman Hane reprimanded, "Stop talking to her."

"... I'm worried about her. She should eat, and so should you two."

He repeated, "Don't talk to her."

"What's the..." There was a long absence for consideration. Everyone was looking at those two. "I am safe to be around. They are, too. We're eating the same food you are. You're safe here... So what's the problem?"

"I don't trust you."

Her volume was deliberately kept from escalating. "What about me makes it so she can't eat?"

... Again, "I don't trust you. Why should I."

The bitch scoffed and disengaged to view those on her side, interpreting, "His plan didn't go how he wanted earlier so now he's mad. Hell did I do?"

"You're a liar." Not hard to get.

Case's best word to describe the prolonged swivel to Hane was, "joyous", the smuggest, most delighted of feelings pitched off her and smashing into him by sight on its own, her comeback, "Really now..." with all those features and more. "Give me the book."

Roth was hesitant, his wife sharing that sense. He delayed, "... Do we really? I don't think-"

"Yes. Now."

From the cart he reluctantly produced a large book, the title unseeable, and handed it to the fox who immediately thunked it in front, opening and flipping its pages as she elaborated, "So I was thinking - you know, just out of the blue - about you, Hane, and the patch on your vest that says, 'Fields'. Mummy dearest from Oklahoma led many soldiers and whoever else across America, training you to be the most hardened, badass leader ever who knew everything about everybody and could, I'm sure, talk whoever he wanted into killing themselves. Wow. What. a story. But then she died. How so, so heartbreaking for her loyal boy."

"Cerise...!" called Fia.

"And then I... thought - a little bit; not too much, 'cause I didn't need to. There's not a lot of records intact anymore, are there? If you're traveling, you probably won't find any, actually. So it would be really, terribly uncomplicated to point at your little nametag and tell everyone you met just how super-duper amazing your mother was, and how many people taught you what you know... and she can have a name, and, very conveniently, literally no one can disagree. But you fucked your sob-story, I'm sorry to say." The fox closed in on what she searched for. "You, are mid-fifties. So you were about twenty Before. Guess how many female generals there were in two-thousand-eleven who had so much pull and respect to gather aaaalll those people when everything went to shit? Hmmm? Can you guess for me?"

Hane didn't talk back.

"EXACTLY enough for me to find them real easy in any list of our military's top officers. Like this one. In fact, I saw her name already, and that's where I'm going. Sewing your own ID would be too tacky, and anyone who knew anything could see it was fake... but you were smart. You, Mr. Oklahoma American who was in Canada for some fucking reason, killed her, or maybe her hubby, and now you looked real - nobody could say... anything..."

Pointing at something he couldn't see, Cerise went unnaturally quiet, focus locked on the book. Reading aloud in an ill voice and manner, she traced the words, "Fields, Melanie. Three-stars. Role-"

"Surgeon General. Home-state: Oklahoma. Years of service: between twenty-five and twenty-seven years, depending on when it was written." Hane completed, "... What kind of dog is she? And the color?"

A spell of weakness showed the fox's age, the frailty of her, to the extent Case wondered if her heart would give out. Quickly she stood, records and cushion in hand, meal left on the table, saying low without attempt to meet anyone's gaze, "I'm sorry I have to go," then sped off to where she came from.

---

Unhidden and under his breath, Roth versed, "... electric, wash, stor-age, one, two, three, materials, park, lake, craftsmen, wood and metal, disposal, gardener, medicine, learning, kitchen, well, field..." then again silently and three-times faster. "Alright. Last stop," he announced, a man emerging to the end of their soil trail towing an empty palette by its rope, them hailed by salute once noticed. An equally grassless center area for the buildings was where he put aside the current task and joined them between the pens. He was apologetically beaming... if that was possible.

"My fault. We're short one who called in so I've had a lot to do. I forgot."

The lady Conley affirmed, "Meet here, meet there; same thing! We're coming down to see your work anyway."

... Whoever this was - another dog in later middle age with common stature and fused markings Case didn't care to decipher - apparently wasn't as talky. Was polite enough, just not another word from him until there was a desperate nod from one of the Conleys to.

"... So tour or talk? I manage the animals, if you weren't told already."

Hane's first question, "What kind of animals?" was answered already by the big pens at their sides that took up most of the land. Was easy to see in them... Suppose there could be others, though.

Their current guy to ask things pointed either direction, illuminating, "Goats. Ducks. Tha's it. Big furry ones on your right there take up most 'f our space, as you can tell, climb all over, gotta browse instead of graze, smash crap, break more crap, got social dynamics and friends and enemies 'n whatever, need to be pregnant to produce any milk, and even one gives more than anybody wants to drink. Our job - me and the hands - is more to keep them alive and not inbred for as long as we can. Won't last forever, shame to say." He leaned on the tall fence's boards, smirked, and said, "Kids like 'em, though. And me too, of course."

...

"Right, and the ducks. We'd gladly have more of those 'cause you can actually cook eggs and not get Salmonella from eating their stuff raw," he shouted a noise meant to scold one of the horned animals off trying to perch somewhere, and went on, "plus vegetables can get old, and everybody likes eggs in the morning. Meanin' we've got as many as we can, they just take up less ground opposite these dimwits - leaves here a lot more open and breezy, too, and some folk like to hang around."

"What's with the shape? The walls."

It took him a second to understand. "... Oh yeah, yeah. Town's an up-down rectangle, farm's one on its side... I get it. So it's slanted like that... shape's a trapezoid, I'm pretty sure... but it's so the guards can look north and to the side easier, and if we put here under the farm 'stead of on top then that means one wall slants right up at the city - least more than it's ideal to be."

... Finger to his temple, the man granted humbly, "Lot of the work I do ain't that complicated anymore, just the same deal over and over, all set up by me and some others doing a little planning a long time ago... and 'cause of those chaperones you got. I'll show you around if you'd like, 'cept these animals wouldn't be still livin' if this didn't run well. 'This' as in... me and everyone."

Okay. Hane responded, "... I'd like to see, still."

"Fine with me." Leading, he said for no particular reason, like to himself, "... Not quite supper yet. Could make..."

Nearly there from the beginning, the man... who hadn't got an introduction, got them to the barn quick-like. "Here's the uh... center, I guess. We're getting to the goat barn here, then there's the coop over there, some sheds we got between which I can show too - not much but tools and such, but we can..."

Away from where he pointed, a nose and pair of eyes snuck and spied from the barn, dipping into cover when noticed, them all going to whoever this was and soon leaving nowhere to hide. Case wasn't sure if Hane saw them, or wanted to be told publicly... The decision was made for him as the person exited their spot partway - enough to be known. Everyone stopped to greet her. The girl refused to step out properly on her own, because she was afraid.

Drawing her in by motion, tone, and words, Fia corralled, "It's okay; come say hi."

"Yeah, I'm not-" The excuse wasn't finished. She reset and went to the group in a way too slow to not be scared and quick enough it was clear she wanted to look normal. An attempted wave failed as she couldn't decide to do it or not, her greeting just a sad flick of the wrist after it went up and down barely but repeatedly. Wide-eyed, the girl bulldog wore rustic suspenders and a frankly ugly striped t-shirt that didn't go together with... themselves, or her white pelt with a brown line on her snout and... tan arms.

She chose finally to wave, and lilted almost normally, "Hellooo~..."

... Roth needled, "Everybody stop giving their names? Do it properly, please."

Likely understanding his message that she was being odd, progress (... some) was made on her leveling out, and she tried again. "Sorry. I'm Mallory Conley. I'm not weird and I wasn't stalking or anything. I *ahem* heard you while I was working. 'Cause I work here. And I live here. In town not with the animals. I don't get to meet a lot of new people... if you couldn't tell, already." Their daughter flashed a put-on smile. "Lots to do, heh. I'll go so you can take 'em around, Mr. Lyle."

"Nah, take a break for-" Lyle tried to say.

"Nope I'm leaving. Okay bye." And she went... definitely somewhere she needed to go. Mallory's parents saw her do that, perplexion and a dash of stun coursed in then out as their frowning faces aligned back to the groups', Roth beginning, "So..." and his wife having to end, "that's our daughter... Thought she had better manners. Don't take it personally, but we will, uh... We'll talk to her. Later."

"... Should we...?" their expert nodded onward. Sure, Case was fine with... What? Why was Hane distracted?

His commander leaned to one side, down like Navy was asking him to by pulling his sleeve, and she got close so only he could hear. Navy paused, then whispered a few sentences. Hane needed to think about this, so they all waited... and that turned more to loitering... then plain damn awkward. Seriously, what could she have told Hane that stumped him this bad?

"... Ask, and you'll know."

Navy did as she was told. "... Can I... Can I stay here? Like o-once you or... we would leave, could I stay here on the farm? Is... th-that, um... fine?"

The Conleys, as they heard her request, went grave. Case gathered where this was headed, and, as the married deliberated silently - meeting each other visually, shrugs here, nods and small gestures only they knew the context of - he assumed also that Navy would have to stay back in the coming talk.

Roth dismissed Lyle. "Go work. We'll holler if we need you." The animal wrangler took the order and bid himself off with a professional tip of his leather hat. Roth suggested next, "Let's go inside; get some shade."

Their goat-house smelled of dry wood and open breeze. In its very center, out of any sunbeams, the groups faced one another. Roth wanted to talk, and keep talking.

"I want you to listen for a while, then you can say what you please." He was choosing carefully. "... If you accept this, there's things you need to know, and things that need to be settled for good. First, I trust everyone we've made citizen - I trust them with my life, and the lives of everyone. So, when someone violates that, we hold a vote to remove them, four-fifths agree or no action. Past that, we have laws: no threatening, no stealing, no trespassing, no leaving unless it's okayed first. I can explain all of them, or you can read about them. Really, all you need is common sense, and to remember that your things are yours, and other people's things are theirs. You want it, you ask for it. They don't want to give it, strike a deal. It's a free city. You live here and are expected to allow others the same courtesy. If there's any confusion to whether you've fallen out of alignment with us, you're allowed a fair trial before voting. However..." His posture was stern. "However, if, in the moment, you are threatening another person, I will not hesitate to threaten back. If you're somewhere you shouldn't be, I will not hesitate to arrest you. If you pull a bunch of crap, we will remove you. If you own a weapon anywhere that we don't know about, you're done. Gone. If you're holding it, then I, or any of the very fine men I have watching you will not hesitate to shoot you, no questions asked."

While Roth calmed down, Fia continued for him. "... As for those guys on your detail, we can't say when that will stop; you just have to trust that it will. You won't have to see them and, hopefully, they won't have to interact with you. Past that... all we ask is for you to work like everyone else does - farming, guarding... some special skill you have. We have everything we, and we hope you, need already, it's just that pitching in is an expected and appreciated aspect of living here." She was nervous. "And I'm sorry to say that if any of this isn't acceptable then you... can't be here. They're non-negotiable."

Hane's reply was fast. "And I get?"

"All your needs met," Roth implored, "plus what you don't need, but are better for having." Apparently he'd let their trip speak for itself here.

...

Cold, it was presumed of the Conleys, neither in particular, "When specifically have you not been honest since we met? Don't add more, while you're at it."

... Roth answered, unsurprised and level-headed, "That depends on how you look at it. What I told you this morning wasn't true, so that makes everything either of us said today a lie by association, because you didn't know what we did. To tell the truth, our leadership didn't agree to let you stay last night, or as of right now. You, today, were showing us what choice to make... and if I'm more honest, agreeing now doesn't mean it's official." Pointing at Hane then himself, "You can be one of us once you prove it. Beside that, we lied about the population; Ballinger doesn't have fifty people, it has fifty old enough to work, and we wanted you to know there were a few kids once you were... more involved - so we could see how'd you'd react when you might be more open to showing it."

Fia elaborated, "It was a memory trick so we'd know not to say that yet... Everything else was real. Those are the only two."

So... they were being studied. Case wasn't too surprised, considering their introduction to Ballinger. Hane observed deeper, "Can't say what you found, can you? Or what you were looking for?"

"... Nothing exact," she let down.

Hane glanced at the interior, stalling for thought. "... You're bad liars. Plan was good, you had good examples and people who knew how to talk and make a good impression. I can guess the kinds of reactions you were testing if I had and setting me up for. But you're bad liars. Cerise... she's good at it - excellent, really." Case understood the concept of what Hane was saying, just not where it was coming from. "... So why you? Why was a husband and wife like you two picked to lie to my face when I know there're others who are actually qualified?"

... No choice but see what he was getting at.

Both in the couple waived the conversation to the other. Their inward look turned to a seeking one... and Fia's spouse nodded to okay her onward. Tentatively, unsure how far to go, she alleged, "We... are here because you'd know. You would know we weren't entirely truthful, and that we weren't..." after a sigh and gesture at their situation, Fia went on, "this kind of person. We aren't fit for this. We're parents. And... we want you to stay. We want everyone to be happy here."

...

What the fuck was Case supposed to say to that? Yes, it wasn't his place to talk, yadda yadda not the point. If he was to, then... Know what? Nah. Hane can deal with it.

...

Goal unknown, his superior wondered in a manner close but not the same to how he'd been speaking, "Are you of faith?"

Her husband confirmed, "Christian," as she nodded alongside.

"Then swear it to me on His name." Oaths were equally valued with money: worthl- "Do that, and I'll shake your hand."

Excuse-

No hesitation. Roth put his hand up, and the other on his heart. Fia postured in harmony with an agreeing glance. He swore, neither faltering, "I, Roth Conley, and on behalf of my wife Fia Conley, vow before You, Christ, and the Holy Spirit that as of now, I have told these unfamiliar people in our lives the whole truth, and nothing but it. I promise anew that if they accept our offer, we will do everything in our power to make them feel welcome and safe. No harm will come to them... unless they force us to."

Okay. That's not binding. A handshake isn't. Talk isn't, eith-

... Hane (come the fuck on) took a step forward... and gave his hand. Complying to a mutual stare-down, Roth grabbed and firmly shook it a single time. The shorter, smaller man tried to pull from it, but couldn't... He did not break eye-contact, or try to disengage again. He did not sweat or tremble. But he would go when Hane let him - only when he'd found that thing, that aspect of this leader, he was searching for. The commander would pierce him and understand what was beneath that thick, dense skull of his. How would he feel... Could his ground be stayed. Was it a test. Did he know something. Was Hane going to do something. Was he not the man Roth so dutifully believed him to be like a good, forgiving follower of God. Would he hurt him. Would he hurt his family. Were they right. Was he a liar, and a wretch, and a manipulator, and a murderer, and a rapist, and a killer who wouldn't stop doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Could he really live with him. Could he sleep sound in his home, with his wife in his bed, and his daughter down the hall, and everyone he knew and loved so isolated from others, ready to be taken from this world in one motion, in one night, by someone who didn't fucking care.

... And he was scared. And he didn't cave. And he didn't snap...

So Hane let go.

Fia put forth a hand; Hane accepted it, shook... and stepped back.

The woman's throat cleared not because it had to. "... And Case? Navy?"

... Well if... How was he supposed to... Case couldn't give a different answer, seeing as... Ugh, is... Fine. Hane wasn't telling or signaling any reason not to... shrug and adhere, "... Sure."

"... Me too. I think... Yes." The tiger had more to ask. "So that means I can stay here, right?"

Both parents were cautious, wanting but fighting a particular, and shared, reply. Fia got it out first, "I... That sounds... okay with us, assuming Hane is still alright with it...?"

Obviously no. Say that. Say something to not let her do that. It's a horrible idea. YET Hane was quiet like Navy being alone with people they don't know in a place they haven't seen is even a thought worthy of thinking. Do not let her.

The Shepherd's "plan", if it counted as one, granted her request silently. Monumental fucking problem. Was he sick? Did his brain stop working? Them staying - whatever that means - is questionable. This places Hane on a different plane of existence where getting them buried in a ditch or who knows what is a good fucking anything. Yes; let's steer ourselves there. PLEASE Fia, continue AGREEING. Yes. Good. Fucking ridiculous, reckless, death-seeking.

His reasons had better. be. reeeal nice.

"I'm sure you know you're way home," Roth said. "So you'll do that. They should be done, uh, searching your belongings - the... block of hash won't be there, or any weapons, but the rest should see its way to you. And we will... go have Navy see the animals and such; home by dark. Right, and if anyone tries to stop you, tell 'em... 'I live here.'"

... Almost requiring a shove, Navy was pried from her spot next to them by their commander, going to the Conleys as Hane nodded and motioned for Case to accompany him the opposite way - outside the barn. Case glimpsed Navy looking back, then they were gone.

...

He and Hane were down the trail, none but them could hear if they spoke. He flicked their undercover sign for, "Plan?"

They halted, Case following suit. Hane saw the sky, and didn't turn to him... personally restraining himself from it. And he knew what was wrong.

Hane met Case, clasped his shoulder, and told the wolf, "Sh."

---

...

...

...

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, one twenty, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, two twenty, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, three twenty. Fifty-one and one-hundred-twenty.

Two hours and fifty-one minutes.

... One, two, three, four... One, two, three...

...

*Kkch*, and a tinier, *tch*, then someone entered. Navy let in the crickets late-evening chirps. Case got from the couch to see her in, pointing out as the bugs' song was muffled, "Your stuff's here."

"Okay thank you." She scooped the backpack and other items under one arm, went to her open room, and, after placing her things somewhere inside, the tiger bent out, said, "Goodnight," and closed herself in. The lock switched.

Hane removed from the kitchen's edge, signing as he left to his bedroom, "Morning. Same time," and went to sleep... or maybe stay up all night again.

To his room the wolf guessed he should go and stay. He opened it. He clicked its light on, and it shone as it ought to. The things he was allowed to keep were all where he left them. He'd checked them, packed what they left out, and rested his backpack on the bed. Case would leave it like that.

He should rest. Sleeping had to happen sometime.

...

Case stood in the doorway.

...

...

Case held its frame.

His eyes were stinging. Why was his room blurry?

...

He turned the light off.