Part 24: Here to Stay

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We don't have a dedicated, full-time security force on Vanguard. Each resident's unique skill set is needed to run everyday life on the base, so no one can be spared to stand around and wait for something bad to happen. Our ad-hoc cadre of law keepers—never volunteers, but rather all appointed by the Commander—have always been enough to maintain peace. I fully expect to be greeted in the Skipper hangar by a handful of these law keepers, but when the craft finally surfaces in the docking bay and the canopy opens, only Commander Lamer is waiting for me.

From the stern look on his face, I almost wish it were the other way around. Guessing the time to be around five a.m., I summon a smile and jump out.

"Morning, sir!" I say, pulling myself to attention in front of him.

With his hands clenched behind his back, Lamer steps forward and stops just inches from my face. "Your daddy buried two kids in the last month and you float back in here like you've just been out for a little pleasure cruise," he says in a matter-of-fact manner that's actually more intimidating than if he'd been yelling.

I gulp, knowing there's no correct way of answering, but I take my chance anyway. "Yes, sir."

Lamer's eyes narrow and he parts his lips—to do the actual yelling, I'm now guessing—but he shuts his mouth just as quickly when something behind me catches his attention. Turning my head, I see Nelly climbing out of the submarine.

"Who the hell is this?" Snaps the commander, looking back at me again.

"Proof that we don't have to be stuck down here forever," I say enthusiastically before tacking on a belated, "sir." I had hoped to introduce my companion formally with a ten-point explanation about how Vanguard and O-town could eventually coexist, but the increasing redness in Lamer's face and the twitching muscle along his clenched jawline are pretty good indicators that he currently doesn't want to hear any of it.

I've been in trouble plenty of times, but never to the point where I ended up in the brig. You would need to do some really bad shit to warrant being locked-up, and that rarely happens here. Felony criminal activity is outright unheard of, and even petty misdemeanors are so infrequent that it hardly sees any use. Maybe it's due to the complacent nature of the handpicked population or perhaps it's thanks to the disciplined manner in which Commander Lamer runs the community, but something has definitely been working.

Well, today Nelly and I get the distinction of visiting the base's lock-up first-hand.

Initiating an executive drill, Lamer clears the area around my hangar and rushes us into the nearest elevator. We see no one as we're whisked up to level fifteen before we're shepherded into the secure space behind a sliding bulkhead door marked "Temporary Detention – Restricted Access."

"I called in our arrival," I say as the door swooshes closed behind us. "We're also on any number of camera feeds so anyone in Master Control would have known that I'm back."

I realize the Commander knows how security protocol on Vanguard works, but me saying this out-loud is for Nelly's benefit. I remember my initial welcome at O-town, and unlike me those first few hours, I want her to feel safe.

Lamer punches in a code onto a keypad and the glass door on one of the two holding cells pops open. He gestures for us to enter. "Nice try, but no one but me knows you're here, Will," he says. "You don't think I've been tracking your and Ellen's Skippers since you left? As soon as you were within a mile of base, I knew about it and shut down all recordings. You shouldn't be waiting for a rescue party because there isn't one coming."

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