“How many soldiers came off duty at the same time as you?”
“Twenty, sir.”
The High General clapped his hands. “Twenty potential witnesses! Where are they?” he asked the men behind him.
“Likely drinking, sir,” Shem mumbled. “Usually head over to the tavern until it closes. No one’s coming back for another hour or so.”
Half a dozen soldiers poured into the treatment room in a bit of a daze. One of them looked around, confused. “Captain told us that since we were awake we were supposed to—” He stopped when he saw the dead officers, and the expressions on his companions’ faces turned to mild panic as they took in the sight.
General Shin pointed at them. “To the Command Tower—now! I’ll be questioning you each. There have to be clues somewhere. I find it difficult to believe they killed each other simultaneously!”
“Guarders do, sir,” someone in the group bravely muttered.
In the shocked silence that followed the suggestion, everyone looked to the High General and breathlessly awaited his response. Shem was glad it wasn’t him who mentioned Guarders. Mrs. Shin whimpered briefly before putting a hand in front of her mouth to hold the rest in.
“That’s true,” General Shin said firmly, not in the least bit shaken. “They do. But not like this!” He turned to his wife. “Joriana, go back to our quarters. I’ll send extra guards, but I assure you, you’ll be safe.”
Mrs. Shin nodded anxiously and took the arm of one of the guards, just as Captain Karna came running into the treatment area.
“Can’t find anyone else who would have been in the vicinity.” His eyes bulged as he saw the lieutenants.
Shem closed his eyes and prayed Karna didn’t recognize him. A moment later he heard a cloth-like sound, as if the bodies were being covered by blankets, and then Karna called for the soldiers to follow him to the Command Tower.
After the sounds of soldiers scuffling away ended, a hush seemed to overcome the treatment room, dank and dark as a grave.
Shem trembled on the cot, his head swirling and his stomach still spasming. Across the room lay two bodies, still and forevermore silent.
Did he really do that?
“Well, all’s quiet again.” Shem heard the surgeon’s impassive voice above him, and felt the damp cloth replaced on his head. “Not exactly the most calming atmosphere for someone with a queasy stomach, is it?”
---
It was morning when Shem opened his eyes again. Somehow he’d fallen asleep, likely out of horrified fatigue. But his dreams were plagued with terrible images and sounds that, when he woke up, he realized were actually memories.
The sun wasn’t up yet, but the area was slowly brightening. He looked to the other side of the room and saw that the two bodies had been moved. Maybe that meant they knew their deaths were his fault.
Shem shook his head. That didn’t make any sense at all.
Sometime during the night he came to some conclusions. At least two people were going to die last night, as if some being full of hatred and darkness had decreed it and nothing would prevent the loss of life.
All Shem had done was made sure those less worthy of life were the ones who lost theirs. He didn’t start the chain of events, he merely redirected them to a more fitting end. In a small way, it made him feel a bit better—
No, ‘better’ wasn’t the right word. He’d never be ‘better’ about this. But he did feel absolved.
The treatment room door opened and Major Shin walked in ponderously, his eyes red with exhaustion and his uniform untidy.
“Doing all right, Shem?” he asked amiably. “You were sleeping when I came by earlier to look at—” He gestured to the empty bunks.
Shem pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I’m sure you’re safe. My stomach feels calmer. Any luck finding out what happened last night?” Then he clenched every muscle in expectation.
Major Shin sat down wearily on a bunk next to Shem’s and held his head in his hands. “No, nothing. No evidence, no clues, no witnesses—it’s maddening.”
Shem sighed. He hoped his relief sounded like sympathy.
Perrin rubbed his face. “Doesn’t make any sense. Something else is going on, and I’m afraid we’ll never find out what. I met them only yesterday, but I can’t help but think: what a waste. I remember being a lieutenant,” he said softly, looking out the window where the sunlight was slowly growing. “I had so many plans, so many dreams . . . I looked at their bodies and thought, ‘I wonder what dreams they had that will never come true?’ They spend years working and training for such an opportunity and suddenly . . . it’s all over. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “One brief night. So tragic. Makes no sense.”