Ryan nodded. “Okay, sounds good,” he said simply. Everything the sec man had told him made sense, and the one-eyed man needed to let him know that he would trust his judgment. If this sec man was in charge of camp sec, then it was important Ryan establish friendly relations.
Baron Silas introduced him as Myall, the head of camp sec, as Ryan had deduced, then explained who Ryan and his companions were. The one-eyed man wasn’t surprised to see the distrust cross Myall’s face when the baron revealed their reason for being there. If Ryan had been in Myall’s position, he knew that he would have felt slighted and snubbed by the introduction of an outside force. It implied that Myall couldn’t do his job, and that he was lesser in the view of both the baron and—ultimately—his own men and the people he was policing. In which case, how could he carry on? So it was important they establish a rapport and that Ryan and his people were careful not to step on any existing sec toes…unless, of course, it became an imperative.
When Silas had finished explaining, Ryan stepped forward and proffered his hand. “Fireblast, this is a difficult situation for us all. We’ll need you if we’re to do anything. We’re extra firepower, and we need you as a guide. Are you with that?”
The tall, gray-bearded sec man paused for a few seconds, then took the proffered hand. Although he was wirier than Ryan, he was a couple of inches taller, being almost the same height as Crow, and his grip was iron strong.
“We’ve got some interesting times ahead,” Myall said with a grin. “Welcome aboard.”
THE SEC BASE for the work camp was on the northern edge, fenced off from the camp itself by a barbed-wire fence that ran ten feet high and was designed as much to keep the horses in as to keep the workers and their dependents out. The sec men slept in a bunkhouse made of wood and sheet metal, and ate in a tented shelter. Baron Silas drove the companions to the bunkhouse, followed by Myall and McVie— the name of the second sec man—on their horses. Baron Silas discharged the companions and left them in the care of Myall, who showed them the scant facilities and directed two of his men to build a tented shelter for them to sleep. He and McVie then led them to a small shack on the far side of the compound, away from the sleeping quarters and the mess tent.
“Guess you should stay outside,” Myall said as he opened the door, stooping in the low doorway, ‘”cause there ain’t enough room to swing a rat, let alone anything bigger, in here.”
Looking over his shoulder, they could all agree. The shack had room enough for one table with a large radio receiver on it, and a chair, currently occupied by a fat sec man who looked up bleary-eyed when Myall entered.
“This my change of shift?” he said in a monotone. “Feels like I’ve been in this bastard oven forever.”
“Then it’s gonna seem that way some more, Todd,” Myall said good naturedly. “It ain’t time yet. Harv’s still out on patrol. But hang in there, boy, won’t be long.
“See, it gets so hot and boring in here,” he continued to the companions, “that the poor boys in here damn near go mad with heat and nothing to do. But they know their shit, and that’s all that matters.”
“Todd,” he said, turning back to the fat sec man, “these here people are new sec that the baron has brought in. So you all tell them about these.” He gestured to a rack that hung behind the bleary-eyed sec man.
“Okay, if that’s what you want,” Todd said without enthusiasm. “Y’all familiar with old tech like this?” he asked, and when they assented he added, “Not that I’m being funny with y’all, but you’d be surprised. Some of the people out there, when I’m on patrol, look like they’ve seen weird mutie shit when they hear a voice come out of this, you know?” he explained, tapping a handset that he had taken from the rack.