Free Fort Liberty, Volume Two by M Orenda

murmuring about her about evil, about how they would kill her in Red Filter.
    They will have to. She said that, didn’t she?
    Dreams, nightmares, he never knew, just listened as she went through it, her thoughts woven together out of order, threaded with the names of gods and monsters he didn’t recognize.
    “You didn’t always want this,” he says. “Remember?”
    “I was afraid.”
    “Yeah.”
    “But I was always afraid on Earth. Who isn’t afraid there?” She looks away from him, and he can see that she’s struggling with it, memories of what everyone remembers. For a second, the façade drops, and she’s not the starry eyed apostle. She’s just another survivor.
    “You were more than afraid,” he says. “You thought they would kill you here. You told me they would have no choice. It was maybe a nightmare, but---”
    “I was wrong.”
    “I can get you out.”
    “There is no out,” she murmurs. “This is what I am, and it will change everything. It will change this world, and will change Earth. This is what happens. This is what is supposed to happen to us.”
    “Us?”
    She looks at him, pressing her lips together, uncertain. “Us,” she repeats without explanation though the emphasis she puts on the word makes it seem as though it should be more than enough.
    Us.
    Meaningless.
    He lets out a frustrated breath, unable to shake the protective burden, either because she seems fragile, or because he just doesn’t like what these people done. And maybe it’s both of those things.
    It feels like he could just take her out now, with everyone looking the other way. It feels like he should do that.
    “You are the best of them,” she says softly.
    He looks down at her, and she clasps his hand, the way she did in the ship from Earth, only this time there’s more to it. He knows he should step back, but he doesn’t. He should let go, but he doesn’t.
    She drops her gaze and grimaces, her lips parting, as if pain.
    Then her hand slips away.
    “Niri?” He watches her, unsure of what’s just happened.
    Voices thread through the filtered air of the hallway.
    Dr. Williams walks through the compartment door, leading an older man dressed in spotless white jacket, with loose pants that fall over soft soled shoes. He’s middle aged, black haired, and tall like they all are, though a bit puffier, carrying some extra weight.
    “Niri,” he says, spreading his hands wide. “We’ve been waiting for you, dear. How wonderful you look. I’m Dr. Neilson.”
    She looks up at him, as if she’s just finished contemplating the shards of a broken mirror. “I want to see the colony now,” she says. “It must be now.”
    Dr. Neilson looks confused. “Good, ah… this… lockdown situation shouldn’t affect us down here. But it does place a priority on completing the indoctrination sooner, rather than later. Once it’s complete, we’re more flexible, if something should happen.”
    Whatever that means. Logan scowls. The man is an ass. But then, he was always going to think so, no matter how the guy looked, or what he said.
    Neilson looks at Logan, straightens, as if it’s man-to-man time. “And you’re a sergeant?”
    “Corporal.”
    Neilson nods, gives a derisive laugh, “Okay. Well, she wants you along, so it’s your lucky day, corporal. Keys to the kingdom and top secret clearance. Let’s hope someone’s thought that through. Let me take you to the observation deck, and get you orientated, so you don’t break anything when you’re out there. And who knows? If they put us in lockdown for a reason, and things get worse, we may actually need you.”
    “You might,” Logan agrees.
    Neilson flashes an irritated smile. “C’mon then.”
    “I’m supposed to stay with her.”
    “She’ll be along presently,” Neilson says, like Logan’s being tiresome. “And besides, she doesn’t need an orientation, does she? She was made for this. It’s you who doesn’t belong here, sport.”
     
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