Free Hazardous Materials by Matthew Quinn Martin Page B

ones the game said could change, could take human form—are they real?”
    Ross took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Yes, Jarrod, they are. Not in the way you think, perhaps, but yes. The Polybius conditioning was an early attempt to break through their illusions, but as you experienced . . .” Ross spread both hands palms up.
    â€œGlitches.”
    Ross nodded. “The man who designed it was a genius, but like most geniuses, he had his limits, and he was taken from us too soon.”
    Jarrod felt more than heard the cock of a hammer. “Wait, one more thing—”
    â€œMr. Foster, there really is no need to draw this out.”
    â€œPlease, just one more thing. What does Sormen mean?”
    Ross paused. “Do you really want to know that?”
    Jarrod nodded. If he was going into that hole, if he was going to be buried unmarked and unmourned, he was at least going to get some answers first. “I do.”
    Again, Ross shrugged. “Even demons have their masters.”
    â€œAnd that’s it.”
    Ross shook his head. “I know very little beyond that, Mr. Foster. I’m sorry.”
    Jarrod believed him. But he didn’t forgive him.
    â€œAgent Diamond.”
    Jarrod closed his eyes, ready for what was next, thankful that at least the dreams were over.
    A soft ping came from Ross’s belt. The man held up a finger and unclipped his phone. The conversation was hard to follow. “Ross . . . Yes. I see. In New Harbor? Fascinating. Has Kander been informed? And the ’Clave prepped for transport? . . . Outstanding.”
    There was the briefest of pauses, the only sound the steady throb in Jarrod’s head.
    â€œAgent Diamond,” Ross said. “Holster your weapon.”
    Jarrod felt the gun pull away from him.
    â€œSector informs me that there’s been a development in the New Harbor situation.”
    â€œJackson?” the other agent asked, speaking for the first time.
    â€œNegative. Advance agents have been able to capture and contain a living specimen. We’re being redeployed immediately. Notify the others.”
    Diamond cleared his throat. “After we liquidate the current situation, correct, Agent Ross?”
    â€œI will handle it from here. Return to the vehicle and await further instruction.”
    Diamond obeyed. So did the others.
    â€œWhat was that about?” Jarrod asked after they were alone.
    â€œYour demons. It appears that we’ve captured one of them.”
    â€œI don’t suppose I’m coming with you to see it?”
    Ross simply smiled, his teeth a perfect gleam of white. “You know . . .” He took a step forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jarrod. Together, they stared down at the soon-to-be-buried Polybius. “We aren’t all that different, you and I.”
    â€œHow, exactly?” Jarrod strained every neuron to uncover the basest link between him and the impeccably dressed, imperious black man who currently held his life in his hands. He came up with two things. They were both male. And they were both standing there under the same starless sky.
    â€œYou make a living ensuring that hazardous material is removed and dealt with.”
    â€œI did, anyway,” Jarrod admitted. “I never wanted that for myself, you know.”
    â€œSadly, what we want for ourselves is not always in reach. But when a man signs up to do a job, he’s honor-bound to see it done. To do it well. Would you agree?”
    Jarrod had heard his own father express the same sentiment many times. Heard his grandfather say the same. Heard nearly every elder male in his family and his friends’ families offer the same advice whether they’d heeded it themselves or not. “I do, Agent Ross. For what that’s worth.”
    â€œWords are only worth as much as the account they’re drawn on,” Ross said, almost wistfully. “You see,