Sub-lets in Hell, chapter 13.

Here we are, first one up. Second one should only be a few days away, but for now please enjoy.

Another day, another dollar, as the saying goes. I put the finishing touches on the last ward, and turned to my new tool, the portable hair dryer. On low, it would dry the ink without causing streaks. Well, so long as I waited a little bit.

The thing was actually from my old stuff, given to me by Karen what seemed like a lifetime ago in order to 'tame that mess' as she put it.

I'd never used it once since my hair was never really an issue. It stayed out of my eyes so long as the bangs were cut, and the rest just settled. It never frizzed or stuck up. I don't even think the ends split. They always seemed intact when I bothered to check.

All this wasn't bad when you couldn't see a normal professional; I just had Grex cut it when it needed a trim, since he couldn't save any even if he wanted to. Passing out hair clippings or working magic on any would hurt me, after all. A clear breach of contract.

Sometimes I wanted him to try it, at least once. A pity I couldn't order him to do so without breaking the contract myself. He was an old hand at this, though. He'd been taking the souls of my family since their recorded history, if the old books I'd seen in this very tower were to be believed. I didn't want to ask; I didn't want to know for sure.

I wanted to ask where the souls of my ancestors were, but I didn't. I was certain I wouldn't like the answer.

I'd already done my jog, and this concluded doing my job for the day. Teaching was both better and worse than I expected, but it wasn't really going to stress me today unless I let it.

The real fun of things would be later, as I taught those kids to craft their own summoning circles. Compared to that, dead languages were a snap.

I bolted up the panel I'd removed, grabbed my stuff, and left. Waving to the very stiff saluting guard who seemed sure I was here to rip his face off. Well, not that bad, but he definitely looked guilty of something he was trying to hide as I walked away. He was even sweating, in the desert, at night.

It wasn't my problem.

No Clay this morning. He was a big boy, but it was a little unusual, him not even bothering to jog. I could get not watching the new blood since there was only so much that could happen there that was interesting. But that musclehead not working out? Something had happened, and I wanted the story.

It was also close to the weekend, when everyone would be allowed off base in order to do things involving broader society. I didn't really have much to do, but there were some things you could only buy in a town, even if the base you were assigned to was supposed to be self-sufficient.

This one... fell far short of that. Again, not my problem to consider, but it did mean I couldn't just hang out here forever. Not while enjoying life anyway; I was already missing trees.

I knew of two parks in the city, both places I'd loved to go just months ago. I wanted to see them, to touch them... to make sure they were the same as they had been. They should be, it had been less than six months, and the websites both looked the same and made the places look the same - but I wouldn't know for sure unless I went.

Going alone felt a little weird - but asking Clay to go also felt a little weird, and a little needy. Maybe Karen needed a break? It was a bit sad realizing how few friends I had. I could maybe ask the old team to come, but I was already planning on surprising them this weekend. Just popping by and seeing who was on duty.

I hadn't heard of any demons being seen in the city lately, so the squad must be having a pretty easy time of things. They might even be holding those poker tournaments they liked.

I'd like to ask them about demonic activity in the area lately; they might know more than we did about it. Or more than I did, since I was pretty sure Karen wasn't telling me everything. She was technically their liaison, or the boss of their liaison, and she would hear all the rumors.

If I asked directly, I'd get direct answers. Sure, the word would get back to Karen, but I'd know, and she couldn't do anything to me since I wasn't breaking any laws; it wasn't as if I didn't have clearance to know the general movements of demons in my posting or even around the world. Hell, the average sixth grader probably knew more about enemy movements than I did at the moment.

But the priority was at least one park and some nice calm nature.

Days in the future. Unfortunately, I still had to teach for now. I picked up the pace, assuring both myself and the people also heading to the tower for whatever purpose that I could still sprint. My speed seemed alright, even if it was nothing like what I would need unaided to keep up with them... with her.

Terrible thought; I needed to stop having those.

It was good practice, dodging around people before they realized who and what I was. You'd think people would have figured it out by now, but there were a surprising number of people who still did not connect the dots of 'white as a ghost' with 'summoner'.

At least not immediately. Most had to double check the uniform in order to make the connection. It was more anonymity than I expected, and I was grateful for it. Even so, it was a little suspicious, and now was the time to actually start worrying about it.

Well, not now exactly, but this weekend. If I went into the city at large and no one recognized me or knew what I was, the fix was probably in. Whose fix? Who knew? I'd have to work on a way to find out. Maybe the type of people who knew, or who knew what without knowing the rest.

I was going to make my head hurt, thinking like that.

I made it in time to mix with my students as they made their way into my classroom; they were all in a group today, chatting and laughing with each other. Jelling as one large team, just like the boot camp melting pot wanted.

A team that flowed around me as I got close, stepping aside and offering a series of salutes as I were an officer or something. I sat down and busied myself with putting my stuff in the places I liked it in, with my bag of ward making stuff in the bottom drawer of my desk. It would be hard to trip on it there, but knowing me, I'd find a way.

Even if I did lock it, there was no need to give someone else a chance to steal my ink after all. It no longer counted as my blood, but it was still potent for a variety of uses.

"Alright, today I want all of you to tickle my ear hole. Talk dirty to me, in all the dead languages you know. Top left to bottom right, please."

Even those who weren't focusing on saying things and proper diction needed to know how, just as those focusing on speaking their inner truths would need to know the writing of it all.

I wanted to put it off, of course, because this was going to physically hurt me. A feeling proven by the first guy, who managed to mispronounce his first word in two different places after he'd heard this word from my lips before.

I wasted no time correcting him. "Start again."

At least he got that word right, even as he screwed up another two. Each time my class got a word wrong, I'd restart them. It wasn't quite time for the melting pot answer just yet, so I kept it individual for now. They would get that surprise next week.

"Tomorrow will be time for the writer types to shine. The rest of you will need to show me something too; there will always be a time when despite what you focus on, you'll need knowledge of the other way of doing things."

Some grumbling was expected, but since no one asked any questions, when the bell rang, I simply left ahead of them. I was going to continue my exploration of yesterday and learn just what the tower held. I still had my map, both my maps even, from my time in basic here and my orientation as a teacher, but neither map showed everything. I was certain of that now.

The second floor was just as empty as it was yesterday, with few doors open and even fewer people wandering the halls up here.

In the far corner, I found the break room. Can't really call it a teacher's lounge since none of the teachers were stationed up here, but it looked almost exactly the same as the one on the first floor. There was some sort of institutional same-ness that all such places shared, as if no matter the time or place they were made as close to the same as any other room for the same purpose, a sort of mid-sixties office chic that somehow failed to be nice or warm or welcoming in any way, instead serving to throw people off and trigger a form of mild dislike.

Much like all modern utilitarian architecture, yet the effect was even worse here since the outer face of the building was a literal round tower writ large, like a magician's or witch's tower. It was odd that while there was no attempt to hide what the building was outside, steps seemed to have been made to hide what the place was to those who worked inside it.

The lounge was empty. Which could be simply because it was a little early for a break or lunch, and not because of some other plot or issue.

As I stood in front of the door, a uniformed man walked up... a captain, like me. Good, no pressing need to salute. "Good morning, Captain."

He felt the same way, if his slight smirk was any indication. "Good morning Captain. What brings you here from below?"

"Exploration and potentially coffee. The lounge downstairs has been closed pending renovations."

"Ah," he hummed out as he sidestepped me and entered. "Well, we should have some in here, though I can't vouch for how good it'll be. I'm Stoddard, logistics."

So he was the guy who fed and clothed us here. Or at least helped with it; there was probably a colonel up the chain somewhere. "I'm Alice, teaching."

His smirk widened. Then it fell as his eyes shifted. It wasn't hard to tell what had brought his mood down... that coffee looked like it had solidified in the pot. The substance seemed to absorb light, it was so dark.

"Yeah, I'm not drinking that." Stoddard promptly crossed the room and grabbed the offending pot, heading toward the sink. "You fine with waiting a bit? I'll give you the first cup."

"Sure, I'm fine with it. No need for giving me the first cup, though; I don't really have any place to be at the moment. Next class is in the afternoon." I'd already done the prep work for it, and by that I meant I hadn't done any. I was just checking work for now, so there was no real reason to stress.

Unless, of course, I wanted to go to the gym. Staying in shape might be an idea. Whatever, I had time.

"Alright. I've got a little time as well. Got to go have meetings with suppliers in an hour," Stoddard replied as he poured the sludge into the sink. It seemed to resist the effort.

This man had to be a veteran; he looked just barely old enough, older than me, but still fresh faced. Even so, there was no hesitance, no fear. He was talking to a summoner as if she were a person. Usually only veterans or family did that.

I was tempted to ask him where he served, but I didn't need to make our first meeting that deep. "Suppliers huh? Suppliers of what?"

Stoddard made a face. "Snacks in this case. Coca-cola and Frito-Lay, respectively. Both want a higher price for their goods than what we negotiated last year, and are fighting for more of our limited shelf space."

That sounded pretty stupid. Who would argue with the U.S. army? "That sounds pretty stupid."

"Tell me about it," Stoddard groaned out. "They are getting paid far more than they should for a store the size of ours, yet give an inch... whatever, it's my problem. Anything interesting happening on the teaching side of things?"

"Not really. Just molding impressionable young minds with long dead languages. Deep dark discussions at sunlit cafe tables over merging lesson plans so that we can churn out educated recruits."

Stoddard smiled again. "That'll be a first."

I couldn't argue that point. I was a recent graduate of this place, after all. "Well, we can't make them too smart. They might run."

The captain smiled again, giving the joke some pity, but his eyes weren't in it. The only ones who made such jokes were us summoners, after all. Gallows humor; there was no escape.

"I don't think it's going to be a problem, to be honest," the man said at last. "This might well be the last year we have classes. Now that the main threat has been greatly reduced, there have been some renewed talks about the need for the draft."

I was sure he didn't mean the regular draft. "I don't think we have the numbers to stop the draft just yet."

"No, we don't," the captain agreed. "But not everyone knows that. We still have years of cleanup to do."

Right, there were still plenty of demons. I was hoping my parents would see the end of the war in their lifetime, but it would likely be close.

Hmm. It was still pretty dead in here. "Where is everyone else? Surely someone else should have stopped by by now."

Stoddard glanced at the door. "I've got no idea."

Coffee was done. I snagged one of the paper cups and poured. Then I poured another; by the time that one was full, Stoddard was close enough to grab it. "Thanks."

I saluted him with the liquid... well, it wasn't gold, too dark for that. I wasn't going down that road of thought, either. "You're welcome. Thank you."

Stoddard smiled again. "What are friends for?"

I wouldn't call us friends just yet, but I gave him a smile of my own just to let him know I wasn't against the idea so far.

Sitting back down felt a little awkward, but it became less so when the good captain took the initiative to head to the door himself. "Sorry, it's been nice talking to you, but I really must go. Time to fortify up before I talk to greedy people."

"Godspeed."

"Thank you," he called as he went out the door.

I sipped and waited, listening to the boots head down the hall. Then I sipped and waited some more. A bit more, and it was lunch time - and still, no one came.

This was more than a little odd. Where was everyone?

Draining my coffee, I threw the cup away; people or not, I couldn't stay here forever.

I could go up a floor really quick, though. The good captain might mention my little foray to the powers that be, which meant I could get some new orders soon. If I was fast enough, however, I could learn a thing or two.

I didn't meet anyone on the way to the third floor. Possibly because I took the stairs, but I didn't buy that for a second.

The stair door squeaked as I opened it, and the two people walking down at opposite ends of the hall it opened into paused, their eyes meeting me, and moved on with a little of the expected haste.

Just like that, the hall was empty except for me. just before lunch time, late in the week. As if there was no one here lazy enough to knock off early or try to shirk at all.

Instead, there was nothing like that; no people here at all. The doors were solid, without all those little doors within them, so I couldn't pull a stalker and look inside without opening them. Some few of the doors down the hall were open, so there were people obviously there... but one in ten was far too few for a place this size.

This floor was supposedly the place for places like intelligence and government types. Nothing marked outright, of course, but something like that. I marked what places I could on my map - in code, of course. No sense giving any enemy a win in the future.

The long and the short of it was, there simply wasn't enough people here. I would expect to see this place full, with most of the doors open and not locked, even here in the admin sections. Instead, this place was being manned by a skeleton crew; I could feel it in my gut that this was right.

Enough, I'd check again tomorrow. Maybe the big boss wasn't even here anymore? The summoner in chief was supposed to be at the top floor, but if almost everyone else was gone... I'd check tomorrow, when I had more time.

At least Karen was here, for all that she probably shouldn't be.

Down the empty stairs and out the door, and it was time to eat. That is, if I felt like eating.

I did, but... did I have time to go home and come back? I'd be cutting it close, but I could pay some attention while on the way and count both people and cars. Maybe I could grill those brats in my fridge quickly... there was nothing sadder than a boiled brat. People who did that were heathens of the highest order.

Not too many cars going by - just enough to sell the illusion of activity if people weren't in the know or weren't paying enough attention. Even fewer people, even in front of the post exchange, and lunch time was in full swing by now.

There were still a few military families, though; some wives, husbands, and even kids. More selling of the illusion? Or had I finally gone insane, and was reading too much into a few hours of walking around?

No, I wasn't there yet. I'd trust myself. I'd also ask my friends later.

My street looked even weirder without any traffic on it. It was like I was the only one alive here, and that couldn't be right.

The bigger question was, if I was right and people had been moved in the middle of the night or something, where had they all gone? Where could they go, when this place was the most safe and secure installation in this area of the United States? Or rather, was it my fault?

Of course it was. I was the X-factor here. The odd woman out.

I made it home only to find my grill ready to go. I hadn't set it, but I wouldn't question it. I lit it, then opened up and made my way to the fridge.

The brats were waiting for me, and some potatoes were waiting their turn in the pantry. A little foil, and some seasoning. Busy work.

It didn't take my mind off anything.