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It all made sense, of course. She needed the nap; she would need many more hours of sleep before the fatigue in her muscles waned. She also needed a good shower; the stink and stain of battle remained, a trait she shared with the other soldiers onboard the transport which made for an unpleasant, musty smell.

That vulnerable feeling? That made sense, too.

Nina did not trust the Chaktaw. She did not trust the Centurians or the Geryons, regardless of their claim of ‘new orders’; orders that changed the battlefield dynamic not only along the Mississippi, but across the world.

She knew-from looking in their alien eyes-that they did not trust her either. She could not blame them. If given the chance, Nina would have gladly driven her sword through any of them. After all they had done on her planet, forgiveness simply was not a part of the equation. She could not make happy and act as if a new day dawn. None of her kind could. That is why Jon Brewer and the rest of the brass-including the extraterrestrial commanders-kept the camps well-separated, particularly after the sides traded shots on more than one occasion. Only one thing kept the tinderbox from exploding: alien and human alike had grown tired of war.

The alien armies not only ceased hostilities, but they now desired to return home, meaning there remained no need to slaughter them as long as they dutifully marched through the runes of their own volition. From what Nina had seen at the front, the Chaktaw-and probably the rest-wanted nothing more than to get off this planet that had become a world of misery for them.

Still, the quicker they go through the runes, the better.

Apparently the Witiko had not signed on to the truce, therefore any of their kind found on Earth would be subject to immediate attack. But few of their number remained. Nina heard talk of isolated redoubts of Witiko in Alaska and some Pacific Islands but nothing concrete. Just like the alien animals and whatever remnants of Voggoth’s soulless ones remained, any isolated Witiko would be purged one way or another.

Furthermore, there were probably pockets of other militant aliens who had not heard of the truce; certainly this would lead to some awkward moments down the road. Brewer, Shepherd, and the rest worked with the extraterrestrial representatives to overcome those challenges.

No matter how hard they worked, Nina knew finishing the job would take time. Decades.

But now we’ve finally got time.

Despite a few incidents, the truce held; at least in the short term. And Nina knew in her heart that the truce came from Trevor Stone. He had engineered it. And if he had engineered it, that meant he still lived.

We’ve finally got time.

She felt the transport rock as the landing gear touched ground. Nina gathered her well-worn battle gear and joined the rest of the soldiers as they exited the craft. Vince Caesar was not among their number. He remained in a field hospital outside St. Louis receiving treatment for his leg. But he, too, had earned a trip home.

A rest.

And yes, for the first time in her life the idea of rest appealed to Nina. That idea-the idea of a break from fighting-felt strange to her. She felt-finished. Like she usually did at the end of a successful mission but this time she did not think another mission waited.

Nina exited the craft and walked across the paved landing pad. Late June had come to Annapolis and the temperature soared. The midday sun caused her to sweat, adding to her grimy, dirty feeling. She eagerly anticipated a return to her apartment.

An empty apartment.

True, for the first time in years Denise would not be there. The newlyweds had spent the last month in militia training in West Virginia preparing for Voggoth’s breakthrough. The end of the war meant Jake would complete his military education. At the same time, it appeared Denise took a fancy to flying and planned to join the Air Corps. What the future held from there? Well, time would tell.

She parted from the main flow of traffic and exited through the perimeter fence bypassing the squat, modular steel building that comprised the old Southern Command. A small paved path led southeast and merged into a walkway that paralleled Highland Beach. Despite the gorgeous day no one played on the sand or in the water. Less than a week had passed since the turn of events on the Mississippi and the details of the war’s finale remained sketchy to the general public. Most stayed home and convened around the television or radio eagerly awaiting the news. Indeed, most expected the fighting to break out again and any moment.

Nina suspected that, for most of them, the very concept of the war ending would seem too fantastic to believe. Then again, they had not ridden into battle alongside the Chaktaw or watched Centurian artillery decimate Voggoth’s army. Her proof came from participation; it would take longer for the public to trust news reports and stories.

On the far side of the short beach, the waters of the Chesapeake rolled to shore. A series of wooden posts marched out into the surf, all that remained of a dock washed away long ago. Rusted playground equipment occupied a rectangular stretch of beach. Nina hoped that in the days ahead children would emerge from their hiding spots and return to the playground and beach, but for now the nation felt on hold. As if catching its collective breath.

“Bee-u-tiful day, if I don’t say so myself.”

He sat along the walkway with both arms draped to either side of a park bench and his ancient, mysterious eyes alternated between the surf and Nina Forest.

“Probably a great day for a dip, wouldn’t you think?”

She glanced toward the water and then back at the Old Man. She noticed that despite his long-sleeve white shirt, black vest, and dusty-looking jeans she spied no signs of sweat.

He said, “Take a load off them feet. Seems to me you’ve earned a rest, ain’t that about right?”

Nina lugged her gear over the bench, rested her rifle alongside, and sat with him. Yes, it did feel good to sit but the heat still grilled down. The water-over there, across the beach-looked oh-so inviting.

She said to the Old Man, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Third times the charm, missy.”

“What happened? What did Trevor do?”

The thing that resembled an Old Man kept his attention focused on the beach while he answered, “And that’s just about the size of it, right? You’d know it was Trevor. Some kind of intuition. Guess there are some things I still need to figure out. Ol’ Trev-he’s just full of lessons. Guess it was ‘bout time folks started listenin’.”

“What’d he do?”

“Oh, I suppose the easiest way to put it is he opened up some eyes. Yeah, that’s the best way to wrap your head around it. Nothin’ like a little-a little…” the Old Man’s voice dropped for a moment. She clearly heard sadness there. “Nothin’ like a little first-hand experience to cut to the chase of the matter, I suppose.”

“What’s that mean?”

The Old Man shook his head and took a deep breath. His eyes widened and he smiled.

“Now no need to go rehashing all that. The times come to move forward, missy.”

Nina said, “I remember.”

“Figured a few of his memories would make the trip over to you when we gave him a jump start last year. Have to admit, I got a fair glimpse of a few things myself. Made a-made a…” the Old timer seemed lost in something for a moment before he found the right word. “Made an impression.”

“Listen,” Nina corrected. “This is something more. Not just what I got from him. Stuff that belongs to me. From the first time The Order grabbed me-then last year, I flew an Eagle transport, but I never actually knew how. Other stuff, too. Ideas-feelings…” but she could not finish.

His eyes narrowed and the thing shaped like an Old Man told her, “Memories aren’t just in your noggin’, you know. Flying something, well, that’s probably like riding a bike; what you folks might call ‘muscle memory’. As for the stuff about Voggoth pulling that fast one on you, well, they tried to tuck that away in some dark corner of your mind before they slipped in that implant. That was bound to come out sooner or later. Honestly speaking, I don’t think they expected you to live too long so hiding it forever wasn’t part of the plan.”