I Am Automaton

Chapter 10

16 Weeks Later

Carl had completed Basic Training. He sailed through weapons training using the M16, M4 carbine, grenade launchers, and various automatic weapons. He mastered drill and ceremony training, and he struggled through special tactical Field Training Exercises where as a platoon, the recruits practiced decision-making on the battlefield.

He graduated to Advanced Individual Training (AIT) where he would be trained in his Military Occupational Specialty (MOS). Having two years of classes in engineering under his belt, he applied to Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri and was accepted. However, because he did not complete four years of college, he was not accepted into the engineering program.

This disappointed Carl greatly. He was, however, accepted into the field technician program and received his training at the Edwin R. Bradley Radiological Teaching Laboratories, one of the few actually licensed by the Department of Defense.

Being a natural student, Carl passed his classes with flying colors. After the physical rigor of Basic, he felt like he was back in his element.

He was graduating in a week from the program and faced assignment. It was evening, and he just returned to the barracks from the mess hall. He threw himself on his bed and picked up his textbook on subatomic particles when his com unit flashed that he had an incoming call. He put down his book and touched the screen. It was Peter.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hey, Carl. How’s it going?”

“Okay. I was just reading about quarks.”

His big brother’s quizzical expression amused him. “It’s a subatomic particle, Pete. I have one last exam tomorrow.”

“You excited about graduation?”

“Yeah, I guess. But I’m a little worried about where I’m going to be assigned.”

“I’m sure you’ll be useful wherever you go.”

“Well, I’m worried about Dad. I’d like to be close to him if possible.”

“Carl, when you enlisted you cut the apron strings. There’s no going back.”

“I know. I know. I just worry about him.”

Peter hesitated. Carl knew that the only time Peter shut up was when he had something important to say.

“What is it, Pete? I have to get back to studying.”

“Well, I was thinking that if you were interested…I could maybe pull some strings and get you assigned to Fort Bliss here in Texas. They need some good techs. There’s a lot of interesting R&D going on here.”

Carl sat up. “Really? What kind of R&D?”

“Classified, bro. But it won’t be if I can get you an assignment.”

“Really? You can do that?”

“I have some connections.”

“That would be great. We’d be on the same base, and close to Dad.”

Peter smiled wryly. He figured he’d torture his little brother a little. “Are you sure you’re not sick of Texas? Maybe you want to see other places.”

Carl took the bait, amusing his brother. “No, no. Fort Bliss would be fantastic.”

Peter hesitated, watching Carl squirm. “Okay. Okay. I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, you get back to studying. I won’t be able to do squat if you fail your last final exam.”

“Thanks, Pete.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Peter terminated the call. He sat up in his bunk. He had an appointment with Captain London in a few minutes, and wanted to discuss the prospect of bringing Carl into the ID Program.

He stood up, straightened out his uniform, and put on his headgear.

***

“You want to do what?” Captain London asked, the disapproval obvious in the tone of her voice.

“Hey, I think the ID Program Radiology Department could use him. He’s very smart, you know.”

“You just want to keep an eye on him. You know Major Lewis will never allow it. It’s policy. He can’t be in the same unit as you.”

“Major Lewis owes me.”

Captain London sat forward in her chair. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Major Lewis doesn’t owe you anything. You follow his orders and army policy. Period. There are no favors, Peter.”

“Tijuana. Major Lewis sent me into a death trap. I joined his precious ID Program and developed it into what it is today. We’re on the verge of being fully operational.”

“Peter, did you ever think that you’d be dragging Carl into dangerous combat scenarios with you? You’re going to be engaging Mexican cartels…with dangerous undead drones no less.”

Peter shook his head impatiently. “He would be a SWEEPER. They don’t directly engage the enemy.”

“And you could keep an eye on him.”

Peter played dumb, but she wasn’t buying it. “Well, now that you mention it, Doc, I guess that is also true.”

“Oh, come off it, Peter. This request is very inappropriate.”

“Frankly Doc, it’s not your call to make. So why don’t we just let Major Lewis make the call.”

She glared at him, frustrated. “Requesting this of him is not a good idea. If I were you, I’d just drop it.”

“Is that your clinical opinion, Doctor?”

She didn’t like him mocking her, but he continued anyway. “I thought you of all people would be happy to see him.”

She glared at him. “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, Frisky’s…”

“And?”

“You thought he was cute.”

She sat back and put her palm to her forehead. “I knew I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why?”

“Peter, you should’ve seen him trying to hit on me. It was clumsy and pathetic, but I felt bad for him. I wanted to boost his confidence.”

“So you’re saying you don’t think Carl is cute?”

Her voice, for the first time since he met Captain London, now carried an authoritative tone. “This conversation is heading in an inappropriate direction.”

Peter realized he crossed a line. He couldn’t tell if he struck a nerve or she really regretted calling Carl cute, but either way he had to back off.

“Sorry, Doc.”

She regained her composure. “It’s okay. You were frustrated and were lashing out. Listen, if you want to make that request with Major Lewis, I can’t stop you. It’s your funeral.”

“Thank you.”

“In the meantime, you need to focus on your duties, soldier, and not concoct fantasies about what I or any other officer find attractive.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That was the first time she referred to herself as an officer in session.

“Now get out of here.”

“Yes, ma’am. And I really am sorry.”

She nodded and gestured for him to leave. “Go.”

Peter heard the door close behind him. He would meet with Major Lewis tomorrow after debriefing. Surely, he would at least have to consider Peter’s request. At least Peter believed he should.

However, even he knew that what he believed and what Major Lewis would do were two very different things.

***

The next day Peter’s unit assembled into the hangar outside the Labyrinth. Major Lewis had wanted them to practice extraction from a confined area, as their first mission might involve neutralizing cartel members in cenotes.

Peter awaited the signal from Sergeant Lockwood for the beginning of the exercise, and then he signaled the release of the ID.

They staggered out, as usual, into the funnel of the reverse Vee formation, the dogs running alongside of them. Peter scanned the flanks for insurgents.

A private at the mouth of the funnel breached the front door and stepped back into formation. The ID piled into the Labyrinth as they had practiced so many times before.

There was inevitably a small faction of humpers, but Peter identified the squads involved and hit the AI kill switch. He counted to five and reactivated the humpers, and they rose and rejoined the group. His idea four months ago about “resetting” the humpers had worked.

The SWEEPERS ran along the side of the structure, their squads covering them, tracking the ID. The interior walls inside had been removed to simulate a cenote. A crane held a shipping crate aloft, simulating a helicopter.

After the ID were in and the front door was locked to contain them, Peter hit the AI kill switch disabling the ID in the Labyrinth. He then signaled to Sergeant Lorenzo, who was standing on top of the crate.

Lorenzo signaled to the crane operator, who began to lower the crate into the Labyrinth. When the crate was just twenty or so feet above the frozen ID, Lorenzo signaled for the crane operator to stop.

He then repelled down into the Labyrinth and moved ID that were in the way aside. When he signaled the crane operator, the operator lowered the crate until it rested on the floor inside.

Lorenzo opened the crate and climbed back on top, holding on to the tow cable. He signaled to Peter, who reactivated the ID. The two pigs inside the crate began to squeal as hungry ID piled into the crate. It appeared they still had use for pigs after all. When the last ID was in, Lorenzo closed the crate doors from on top and signaled to Peter.

Peter hit the AI kill switch again, immobilizing the entire ID platoon. Lorenzo signaled to the crane operator to take them up. When the crate reached its zenith, Lockwood called time and the exercise was over.

Flawless.

Peter ran over to Lockwood and slapped him proudly on the back. “See you in debriefing, Sergeant.”

Lockwood nodded. “Well done, Lieutenant.”

Peter sauntered into the debriefing room. Farrow was already seated. They waited for Lockwood, Lorenzo, and then Major Lewis.

Major Lewis addressed the group. “Well done. Flawless execution. Your months of training have paid off. The ID Program is nearly operational.”

There were congratulatory comments. Then they were silent, as Major Lewis was not yet finished.

“But the true test will be in an actual combat situation. Mark my words; there will be no paintballs, cardboard cutouts, or second chances. There will only be your training.”

They all nodded solemnly. They had spent so many months working on these exercises, wrangling the ID that it almost seemed like a game. But this was no rodeo. They were training for a purpose, and they would be tested soon enough.

After a review of some of the finer details of the exercise, they were dismissed. Lockwood strode off, and Lorenzo waited for Peter, but Peter was waiting for Major Lewis.

“You coming, Lieutenant?”

“No, you go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Lorenzo looked at him uncertainly, as if he wasn’t sure what he was up to.

“Good job, Sergeant. I’ll see you later.”

Lorenzo smiled uneasily and walked off in the direction of the barracks.

Major Lewis stepped out of the debriefing room and practically ran into Peter.

“Excuse me, sir.”

Major Lewis addressed him tersely. “Something I can do for you, Lieutenant?”

“I would like to speak with you privately, sir.”

Major Lewis appraised him rather obviously. “Yes, of course. In my office.”

He walked off toward his office. Peter followed like a smaller, yippy dog following a larger dog. The irony was that Peter was taller and broader than Major Lewis was.

When they reached his office, Major Lewis rounded his desk and stood waiting for the formality before sitting. Peter removed his headgear and saluted. Major Lewis returned the salute and planted himself behind his desk. Peter sat as well.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant Birdsall?”

“I would like to make a request, sir.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” He sounded disinterested, almost sarcastic.

“I have a younger brother, sir, and he just graduated AIT…”

“Oh? In what MOS?”

“He’s a field technician, sir.”

Peter waited for some kind of comment, but Major Lewis just looked at him creating an awkward silence. Peter took this as a cue to continue.

“And, well, I was wondering if it was possible if it could be arranged for him to be assigned to Fort Bliss, sir.”

Major Lewis looked him in the eye, considering the request. “Well, I suppose something could be arranged…”

“To the ID Program, sir.”

Major Lewis’ expression soured instantly. “Now you know darn well that such a request cannot be granted.”

“Why?”

Major Lewis raised an eyebrow at the question. “Are you questioning a superior officer?”

Peter sat up as straight as he could in his chair. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

Major Lewis paused, eyebrow still raised, and then nodded once.

“I have done everything you’ve asked me to do. I joined the ID Program, I’ve developed it for you, I’ve contributed every step of the way, and I believe the results speak for themselves.”

Major Lewis sat listening with his right index finger pressed thoughtfully to his lips.

“Lieutenant Birdsall, I can certainly consider your request to have your brother assigned to Fort Bliss. But you know that the military has a policy about siblings serving in the same unit ever since World War II when the Sullivan brothers all died together on the same ship.”

“But, sir,” Peter retorted as firmly but respectfully as he could, “there is no actual ‘Sullivan Act’ present in navy or army policy prohibiting siblings from serving together. It’s a myth.”

Major Lewis glowered at Peter. Peter was stunned into a rather uncomfortable silence. “Technically you are right, Lieutenant. But nevertheless…”

“Please, sir. We could use another SWEEPER.”

“Why?”

“Pardon, sir?”

“Why do you want him assigned to the ID Program so badly?”

“Because I don’t want to see his talents wasted elsewhere, sir.”

“And it would have nothing to do with you wanting to watch over him.”

Peter had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Sir, Captain London is mistaken.”

“Captain London? Mistaken about what?”

Peter was not sure if this was some kind of test. “Surely she’s spoken to you…”

“Actually she has not.”

Peter knew he was caught. It was a guilty response on his part.

Major Lewis sat behind his desk scowling. He folded his hands and looked down at them for a moment. Peter swallowed hard. His palms were sweaty as he realized he was gripping the armrests of his chair.

“Okay.”

Peter did not believe what he was hearing. “Really?”

“Did I stutter, Lieutenant?”

Peter tried his best to sound contrite. “No, sir. You were crystal clear.”

“But if I find his presence is undermining your effectiveness, I’m transferring him out immediately. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Major Lewis put on his glasses and began to sort through things on his desk as if Peter wasn’t there. When Peter didn’t move, he looked up over the tops of his glasses.

“Will that be all?”

Peter knew when to exit on a high note. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Peter stood up and saluted the Major, who did not look up. Peter slipped out of the office and practically ran back to the barracks.

Once again, big brother came through.

It was time for dinner, but Peter ran back to his bunk and called Carl on the com unit. Carl didn’t pick up, as he was likely at the mess hall himself.

Peter left a simple message: “You’re coming to Fort Bliss.”

Then he hung up and walked briskly to the mess hall. He found Lorenzo eating with the men. He grabbed a tray, made his way through the line, and once his tray was full, he joined his men.

“I did it, Mike.”

“Did what, Pete?”

“I was able to get my brother assigned to Fort Bliss…”

“Really? That’s great, Pete.”

“To the ID Program.”

Lorenzo put down his fork. “Do you think that’s such a good idea, Pete?”

“Why?”

“Isn’t there a policy…”

“No Sullivan Act. I looked it up.”

“And Major Lewis approved it?”

“It took some coaxing.”

“Holy shit. What’ll he be doing? I thought he was some kind of egg head.”

Peter scooped up what was supposed to be mashed potatoes and shoved the load into his mouth. “Field technician. He can be a SWEEPER.”

Lorenzo nodded with approval, picked up his fork, and stabbed his chicken as if it wasn’t already dead.

Peter devoured his meal in earnest. He was looking forward to serving with his brother. For once, they had something in common. Peter would be his commanding officer, but he was his big brother his whole life. To Peter there was no real difference. It would be like old times.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lorenzo said, “another Birdsall. This’ll be interesting.”

***

Private Carl Birdsall reported to the El Paso Intelligence Center at the Biggs Army Airfield, Fort Bliss. He was instructed to go to Hangar Four and report to a Sergeant Michael Lorenzo.

He passed some heavy security, which only intensified as he neared the hangar. This stoked his curiosity. He wondered what type of assignment he was receiving. Peter had alluded to some classified R&D.

He entered the hangar and was instructed to wait in a debriefing room. He was in there for around twenty minutes waiting, and just as he was about to get up, Lorenzo walked in.

Carl stood up and saluted. “Private Carl Birdsall, reporting for duty, sir.”

Lorenzo saluted and stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Birdsall…you wouldn’t be related to Lieutenant Peter Birdsall, would you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m his brother.”

“Oh, I see. Be seated, Private.”

Carl sat.

“Private Birdsall, you have been assigned to a very special anti-terrorist program using the latest in drone technology. I hear you’re quite sharp.”

“I do my best, sir.”

“Any college?”

“Two years of engineering, sir.”

“I see. And you don’t have to keep calling me sir every time you speak.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lorenzo shot him a look.

“Sorry.”

“So why aren’t you in the engineering core?”

“Because the army didn’t see it fit to place me there with only two years of college. And they needed field technicians.”

“Well, we could sure use you in the ID Program, Private.”

“What is the ID Program, sir?”

Lorenzo smiled easily. “Well, I’m glad you asked that. Because the ID Program is not something that can easily be explained. It’s something that is best demonstrated.”

Carl waited expectantly.

“Come with me, Private.”

Lorenzo opened the door and exited the debriefing room. Carl followed. They walked a short distance to a large structure with a front door and no roof.

Lockwood was waiting by the front door. Carl saluted him enthusiastically.

“Who do we have here, Sergeant Lorenzo?”

“Sergeant Lockwood, this is Private Carl

Birdsall, field technician and Lieutenant Peter Birdsall’s brother.”

Lockwood nodded. “Private.”

“Sergeant Lockwood here is in charge of overseeing the training exercises in the ID Program.”

Lockwood gave Lorenzo a knowing look. “I’ll leave you two to the…orientation.” He walked away.

Lorenzo opened the door to the Labyrinth and stepped aside. “Private Birdsall, please step inside.”

Carl was taken off guard. In there? He wondered what was going to happen in there, but he stepped in as instructed.

“Private Birdsall, your objective in this little demonstration is to try to make it to the other side.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and you’ll be pursued. Don’t get caught.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lorenzo began to close the front door, but he stopped and offered one last remark. “Oh, do be careful.”

Carl did not quite know how to respond to that, but he didn’t get the chance as Lorenzo quickly closed the door. Carl heard the digi-lock engage.

It was dark in the room he was standing in. There were three doorways all around him. He chose the one in the middle. He did not have to wander long to realize that he was in some kind of a maze. He was confident in his visual-spatial abilities, so he cognitively began to map the maze as he traversed the rooms. He hit a few dead ends and had to retrace his steps on a few occasions, but overall he felt he was making progress.

Then he heard the footsteps.

They were a few rooms away but closing in. Carl remembered his training in Basic. His instinct was to move in the opposite direction of the footsteps, but he knew that would only get him lost and caught.

He kept his cool and tried to analyze the pattern of the layout of the rooms. He began to realize that there was indeed a pattern. It reminded him of his study of fractals.

He began to cross from room to room, making fewer errors in direction and encountering fewer dead ends. He was excited with his progress and almost didn’t realize that he no longer heard the footsteps.

He was preoccupied with the layout of the maze when he ran right into someone who was apparently just standing there in the middle of a room.

He looked up. The face was hidden in shadow from the dim lighting, but the silhouette was unmistakably a woman.

“Pardon me, ma’am.”

The woman sounded like she was wheezing.

“Are-are you alright?”

She stepped forward and reached out for him, her breath cold and putrid. Her grip on his shoulders was vice-like.

“Ma’am, please.”

He tried to step back, but she pulled herself forward exposing her face. Carl gasped as a blue-green face with dark circles under the eyes pulled close to his. She appeared young. Her eyes were milky white, her hair was like straw, and the stench was overwhelming.

“Ma’am…HEY.”

She opened her mouth.

He pulled away, and she pulled with him. He stumbled backward and fell, and she landed on top of him.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

She had fallen in such a way that their bodies were askew. Her face was above his head, and her bosom was in his face. He heard her wheezing loudly.

“Ma’am, get off me.”

He rolled out from under her, got to his feet, and backed away.

“Jesus. What is this?”

She turned around and snarled at him, jaws snapping. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and began to crawl after him.

Carl looked around quickly. He ran toward her, stepped up onto her back, and he jumped up against the wall, grabbing onto the top edge with his fingers.

She was beginning to stand up as he, hanging by his fingertips, inched over to a corner in the room hanging above the floor. She crossed the room, reaching out for him as he pulled himself up and propped himself on top of the intersecting walls.

He was able to steady himself as he rested on the top of the crisscrossing walls. She was snarling and reaching for him.

He took the time to look around, and he saw the layout of the maze. He saw that he was closer to the right side of the maze than the end.

He gave one final look to the crazed woman hissing and spitting at him, and he began to balance himself with his feet one behind the other.

He walked the wall like a tightrope and bid a fond farewell to his grotesque pursuer. It was just like Victory Tower. Only instead of being fifty feet up in the air with the clock chasing him, he had a crazed woman chasing him.

He kept his cool and made his way over to the right side of the Labyrinth, the woman wheezing after him through the rooms, and he jumped off the outer wall.

He landed on his side but rolled into a crouching position. As he stood up, he looked into an exterior window as the woman threw herself against it, smearing blood and saliva on the glass with her face.

“What the…”

He saw Sergeant Lorenzo running down the side of the maze toward him. “Private Birdsall, are you all right?”

“Yes, sir. What was…”

“Meet me in the debriefing room.”

“Sir, excuse me…”

“In the debriefing room. That’s an order, Private.”

Carl stood up straight. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

He walked off towards the debriefing room. The whole time he wondered if this was some kind of joke. Was that woman in makeup? Was this a psychological experiment? Did she have some kind of a disease?

He reached the debriefing room, and Lockwood was already seated. Carl saluted and took a seat. Lockwood was silent.

Moments later Lorenzo barged in. Carl looked at him expectantly.

“We’re waiting for my commanding officer, the leader of the ID Program.”

Carl waited. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded in the exercise or he did something wrong. Then someone else barged in…

“Pete?”

Peter was laughing. Lorenzo also looked amused. Lockwood was still wearing his stoic expression.

“With all due respect, does somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Peter put his arms out, and Carl stood up. Peter hugged him. “Hello, Carl.”

Lorenzo gestured with his hand toward Peter. “May I introduce Lieutenant Peter Birdsall, leader of the Insidious Drone Program?”

Carl was confused. He was surprised to see Peter, and he sure as shit wasn’t sure if he just heard what Lorenzo said correctly. The Insidious Drone Program?

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Holy shit, Carl. We’ve never seen anyone handle the orientation exercise in quite that way.”

“You said he was sharp, Lieutenant,” Lorenzo said.

“Wh-what orientation exercise? What was that?”

“That, Carl, was an ID, or an Insidious Drone, an undead soldier,” Peter announced with no small amount of pride.

“Un…dead? Like a zombie?”

“Yes, Carl. Exactly like a zombie.”

Carl looked around and wondered if he was on the set of a reality show. “This is a joke…right?”

“No joke, Carl. This is the latest in drone technology.”

“Drone? That was a drone?”

“Yes. It’s a long story. It’s a virus that causes the reanimation of dead cells. The result is a condition called Kluver-Bucy Syndrome.”

“Kluver…”

“Bucy. It’s caused by lesions in the amygdala that cause hyper aggression and sexuality.”

“Hyper…”

“The girl was my touch,” Lorenzo chimed in. “The Lieutenant told me you were afraid of women.”

“I-I’m not afraid of women.”

Peter put his hand on Carl’s shoulder. “Carl, they are the perfect soldiers. They don’t have to be fed, there’s no dehydration, and they’re relentless. All you have to do is drop several dozen of these suckers into a cave and they’ll swarm any terrorist hideout.”

Carl sat back down in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. This was all a little too much.

“So you’re telling me that the United States Army is using zombies to smoke terrorists out of caves? It sounds like a bad sci-fi movie.”

“What gave you the idea to cross the maze on top?”

Carl wasn’t sure who asked the question. It was Lockwood. In fact, it was the first thing the man said since they entered the debriefing room.

“Pete and I used to go to these corn mazes every autumn growing up. One we went to had two crosswalks overlooking the maze, giving you a chance to get your bearings and figure out the pattern. In this case, I figured out in the maze that it was a fractal pattern. But when I got up top, I saw I was close enough to the edge of the maze, so I hopped over.”

Lockwood’s stoic expression gave way to something else. If Carl wasn’t mistaken, he would’ve sworn the man was impressed.

Peter smiled in recognition. “Yeah, I remember that maze. Good thinking, bro. See, I told you guys he was smart.”

The rest of the day Carl was given a full tour of the program. He was introduced to Farrow, who demonstrated the technology and the role of a SWEEPER. Lockwood then introduced him to the weapons.

They returned to the debriefing room where the rest of the program was explained to him. They described the discoveries and progress made over months of training exercises: the ID squads and multiple AI kill switches, the pigs, the dogs, formations, extraction, and the humpers.

The next day Carl was integrated into his first training exercise. He swung along the side of the target structure scanning the inside and tracking the ID, confirming the neutralization of targets.

He was a quick learner and fell right into where the platoon was at in their progress. His role was simple but crucial, and he was thankful that he never had to get too close to any of the ID.

They gave him the creeps, but that was the point. It wasn’t just their heartiness and their ability to swarm the enemy. They induced terror, which was intended to disorient the targets making them easier to catch. The neutralization wasn’t very humane, but then again, they were terrorists.

Nevertheless, Carl was happy to be with his brother, and he was quite fascinated with the technology. He meshed well with Farrow and fed him plenty of ideas, many of which were utilized. He felt part of an important effort in combating terrorists.

After what they did to his poor mother, he welcomed any new application that would allow them to reach the terrorists sitting snugly in the depths of their hiding spots, confident that authorities would never reach them. He relished the prospect of testing the ID out.

He was introduced to Major Lewis, who only regarded him tangentially, and of course, Captain London.

“I believe you two have already met,” Peter teased.

Captain London shot Peter a dirty look. “Hello, Carl.”

Carl’s heart was in his throat.

“Say hello, Carl,” Peter needled.

“Hello, C-Captain London.”

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Maybe it was the uniform.

“Please, everyone calls me Fiona or Doc. I’m available for a session any time you want to talk. Most of the soldiers in the ID Program come to visit at some point.”

“I can see why.”

Captain London blushed at the comment as Peter stood by grinning like a wise ass.

“Oh, no, I mean because of the zombies,” Carl recovered.

“The ID,” she corrected.

“Yes, the ID.”

“Your brother has sessions regularly.”

“I’m not surprised. I think he was dropped on his head as a baby. Repeatedly.”

She barely acknowledged the joke. It was if she was trying too hard to be professional. Peter noticed.

To be honest, Carl was different from what she remembered. He was more filled out, and he carried himself a little more confidently, even if he was still bashful.

“Well, welcome to Fort Bliss, Carl.”

“Thanks, Fiona.”

She shot Peter some daggers as she walked away. Peter stood next to Carl. “Hate to see her go, but you love to watch her leave.”

Carl shoved him and walked in the other direction towards the barracks.

Peter enjoyed having his brother there. Both had gone through an awful lot, and they needed each other. Besides, he could keep an eye on him, but he would never admit that to anyone who asked.