This was standard procedure on the nights when Alex came in unexpectedly via the train. The Council had long-since regretfully written off the tunnels and the trains, sealing off access points. Thomas had made reopening them for possible use against the Council a priority. It had taken decades to refurbish the mag-trains and the western tunnels, but it had been worth it. They still pushed east through tunnels they’d found and followed, exploring to see how far the old secret network had gone. The trains made everything easier, especially getting in to discuss critical new information.
Alex rode the elevator to the eighteenth floor and crossed the hall to the wide-open cafeteria. Out of consideration for those who worked the overnight shift, the cafeteria remained open twenty-four hours a day. At this hour, the hall remained uncrowded and hushed but brightly lit.
He picked up a tray and cruised through the empty line, choosing foods not available in Azcon. Every zone sent quarterly support to the Ward School, participating in the care and feeding of their future Council Agents as they trained. The Ward School always had goods you couldn’t get in every zone. Alex added two rolls to his tray and debated taking another.
Bread was hard to come by in Azcon, as the Councilor chose to trade the Zone’s valuable honey and pecans for other items. Wheat wasn’t a priority for Councilor Three when his people could make do with mesquite flour. A terrible decision. The flatbreads made with the mesquite flour alternative never cooked right—the center stayed wet and mushy like pudding.
Alex sat, tore off a hunk of a wheat roll, and dipped it into the gravy. When he pulled off a bite with his teeth, he savored the chewy pull of the bread. A long sigh of pleasure slipped free.
A young man sitting a table away turned his attention from the maps and papers spread in front of him to Alex. He had dark, kinky hair cut close to his skull. His narrow dark eyes were crinkled at the edges in laughter while the rest of his long face spoke of bemused interest. He looked to be about twenty-four years old, so likely in or near his final year.
Alex raised his brows.
Caught, the young man dropped his head for a moment as he laughed wryly. “I apologize, sir.” He gestured with his chin to Alex’s half-empty plate. “I guess it’s been awhile, sir?”
Alex glanced down at his plate. He’d been appreciating his meal at great speed. He shook his fork at the young man with mock severity. “Just wait until you’ve been out in the world enjoying regional delicacies. We’ll see how much you look forward to reporting home so you can have some real food.”
The young man barked a laugh. “Yes, sir. With all due respect to my instructors, I cannot wait, sir.”
Alex smiled, remembering his own impatience. He nodded. “I know. I remember.” He swallowed down another bite. “What’s your name?”
He straightened in his seat when he answered. “Senior Ward Jackson Lee. First Class.”
“Relax, son. And ease off the ‘sirs’.” He sopped up the last of the gravy with the last of the bread.
“Yes, sir.”
He snorted. “Uh huh. I remember that, too.” He pushed his plate away and sighed in pleasure again. “Senior, First Class, huh? You’re almost done.” Alex glanced at the maps and papers spread across the table. “Working on your out routes?”
In addition to the official graduation requirements set by the Council of Nine, he and Thomas imposed another final project. All Senior Wards had to create and defend three routes out of every Zone, including food and water resources, analysis of the local topography, and how local flora and fauna could be used as tools or weapons. If the panel of evaluating agents deemed more than two of the routes the Ward presented unviable, the Ward got scrubbed and repeated the year, regardless of his talent as a Spark. No graduation. No assignment as a Council Agent out in the world.
Jackson rubbed the top of his head with both hands as he looked down at the maps and nodded. “Yes, sir. I present tomorrow, sir.”
“I don’t need to tell you to take it seriously, but take it seriously. It’s not just your ticket out of here, but it may save your ass someday.” Reyes’s own out route project had been unofficial, done to relieve the tedium of their last months at a Ward School still controlled by the Council of Nine. Now, the Council only thought they were in control of the critical school, tasked with training the strongest of the Sparks into the Council’s elite Senior Agents. It was very much a mistaken belief.
Jackson’s face lit up. “Yes, sir!” The prospect of seeing enough action that his ass might need saving clearly excited him.
Alex remembered that, too. He grinned, in spite of himself. It still was.
The muffled sound of boots on flooring approached from behind him. He turned. A lower ranked Fort Nevada security officer greeted him with a crisp nod and started pulling to attention.
Alex waved him down. “Is he ready for me?”
“Yes, Councilor Five is ready to see you now, Agent Reyes. If you’ll follow me?”
Alex nodded. He winked at Jackson Lee as he rounded the table to follow the man out. “Good luck, Senior Ward Lee. Make sure you cover your ass from every possible angle, and you’ll be fine.”