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(See Chapter 9)
Maes walked into the outer office and waved cheerily at its current inhabitants: Lieutenants Hawkeye and Havoc. He knew that both Breda and Fuery were napping at home this afternoon, preparatory to their guard duty at Roy’s house tonight. He also knew that Breda would have one more night after this, before he was spelled off by Havoc, and that Fuery would be replaced two nights later by Second Lieutenant Maria Ross, whom Maes had recruited into the rotation.
And right now, Warrant Officer Falman was in the inner office with Roy, having just started the first of his four days in that part of the schedule. (Or, as Roy’s people privately called it, “having drawn the short straw.”)
By now, Maes could recite the schedule in his sleep. It was even starting to infiltrate his dreams which, until now, had been the almost exclusive preserve of his wife and his daughter. In fact, he’d complained about it to Gracia during breakfast this morning.
“If I start dreaming about that stupid schedule all the time, I might as well start taking pictures of it and carrying them around in my pocket and make the change complete.”
Gracia had laughed at him across the table. “You’re a silly man,” she’d said before taking a bite of her toast and marmalade.
“Daddy’s silly, daddy’s silly,” Elysia sang.
He’d grinned at his little girl, leaning toward her and wiping some jam off her cheek with his thumb. “Of course daddy’s silly,” he agreed, “because it amuses my darling angel.”
“Don’t take silly pictures, daddy,” she had commanded him. “Take pictures of me. Me and kittens.”
‘Ah,’ Maes had thought, sharing a rueful smile with his wife. ‘Alphonse has been talking to her again.’
But the thought of Alphonse had served to dampen his cheerful mood a little, because of the visit he’d had from Ed last evening at the house, just before bedtime. And that visit was, in fact, why he was here now.
“So,” he said briskly, “how is the patient today?”
Hawkeye smiled, while Havoc rolled his eyes and remarked, “Well, doctor, the patient still has his spleen, you may be happy to hear.”
“That bad, is it?” Maes grimaced in sympathy.
“The colonel,” Hawkeye supplied, “isn’t very patient about things right now. He doesn’t sleep too soundly with people in the house. And this whole business of the fires would have been fraying his nerves even without that extra disturbance. So his temper is a little…short. Occasionally.”
Maes snorted. “So he’s making sure everyone else is as miserable as he is. Typical.”
The woman smiled again. “Something like that,” she agreed.
“So, Hughes,” Havoc asked, leaning back in his chair and linking his hands behind his head, “what brings you here today? I don’t suppose you’ve had a break in the case, or anything?”
“I wish,” Hughes shook his head. He was beginning to dread the look of hope people fixed on him whenever he walked into a room. He felt like such a prophet of doom all the time, these days. Not exactly the image he usually projected. He added, “No, I wanted to ask about this new assignment for Edward.”
“Yeah, Youswell,” Havoc nodded. “He and Alphonse were gone on the 8:00 a.m. train this morning.”
“I know. Ed dropped in on us last night at home, and told us about it. I don’t get it. Why would Roy send him on an assignment right now, of all times? It just doesn’t make sense.”
The inner door opened, to reveal Roy standing in the doorway, regarding his friend with a sardonic smile. “I thought he was you out here,” he said. “And for your information, Hughes, I sent Edward to Youswell because, however much you keep hobbling me, it’s still my job to see to the security of towns where there seem to be unusual disturbances. So I have to muddle through and try to fulfill at least some of my responsibilities.”
“Yes, but...now?” Maes returned. “When we need Ed here so badly?”
“We need him there too. Hard though it might be to believe,” Roy drawled, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorjamb, “life is still going on outside Central, and outside your investigation.”
“Well,” Maes reminded him, “it’s kind of the point to keep your life going on too, if you remember. Look, can we talk?”
“What are we doing now?” Roy smirked. “Mime?”
“Very very funny. But I’m serious. Can I come in? Or do you require an appointment?”
“Like you wouldn’t get an order from some bigwig and barge in here anyway, if I refused. Sure, come in,” Roy said. He stepped aside to let Maes go past him, but paused again in the doorway. “How are things out here, you two? Anything out of the ordinary? I hope you’re managing to keep your heads above water with all the disruptions.”
Havoc answered, “We’re doing just fine, boss. We’re still putting as many minor things on hold as we can, for now.”
“All right. Let me know if it gets to be too much, and I’ll call for reinforcements.” Finally Roy closed the door and turned to his friend. “Well, sit down,” he said, waving a hand toward the two couches and the large coffee table between them.
Falman was there, of course, sitting on the couch along the wall, and he glanced up from the files he was working on. “Hello, Lieutenant Colonel,” he said.
“Hey there,” Maes smiled, before glancing at Roy. “I’d like Falman to leave us alone for a few minutes.”
But as Falman began to gather his papers, Roy scowled and motioned him to stop. “No, you just stay right there, please. Remember, Maes? One of my people is supposed to be with me at all times, right? Your rules, if you recall.”
Maes wasn’t fooled at all by Roy’s sudden and uncharacteristic adherence to rules. In the week since they’d gone to talk to Kimbley in prison, Roy had managed never to be alone with him, always finding a good reason why they couldn’t talk about anything except what all his people would be allowed to hear. Maes had suppressed his fears and worries as much as he could, and hadn’t pressed things very hard, although he would have done so if it had looked as though the after effects were hurting his friend too much. Instead, he’d just spoken quietly to Hawkeye, telling her to keep a good eye on Roy, and had let the man try to heal again on his own.
It was agonizing, always trying to decide when Roy was so far gone that he needed some intervention (which he always, of course, resisted), as opposed to just being so far gone that he needed to be allowed to get drunk and take care of himself.
“Yes, well,” Maes retorted, “I laid down the rules to keep you from being attacked. Meaning Falman can leave for five or ten minutes, since I’m not about to attack you myself.”
“That’s a matter for debate, I think.” Roy glanced at Falman and nodded in resignation. The man pulled his papers into a file, slapped it closed, and exited rather quickly. Roy took his place on the couch, leaning back and laying one arm along its back as he crossed one leg over his other knee. “There you go, Maes. Everything is ordered to your satisfaction, as always. What do you want this time?”
Maes stood behind the other couch for a long moment, bent over, hands leaning on the back. He said nothing – just stood and looked at his friend, trying to gauge whether the man’s pallor was worse than usual. Hawkeye was right; he definitely looked tired. And as he met Maes’s eyes, the set of his jaw relaxed and he closed his own eyes, rubbing a hand over his face with a sigh.
“All right,” he said. “Sorry. I’ll stop sniping at you.”
“I’m just worried, Roy. You know I can’t help it. Tell me how you’re doing.”
There it was again, fleetingly. That weary sadness in his eyes, before he looked away and answered lightly, “How do you suppose? I’ve got someone supposedly targeting me for an attack, and I’m sitting here trying to work and live while effectively in chains. How do you think I’m doing?”
“I think,” Maes said quietly, “that you’re in a really bad way. And...,” he hesitated, wondering at the wisdom of this, but said it anyway, “And seeing Kimbley like that obviously didn’t help at all.”
Roy’s jaw set again. “I told you. He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. And you’ve heard me say a lot of the same things myself, in the past. Why should it suddenly be important now?”
“That’s what I’m asking myself.”
Roy’s eyes flew to his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know.” Maes shrugged helplessly. “It just...it all seems to be related somehow. Ishbal, and Kimbley, and the fires. I’m more convinced than ever that it’s no coincidence that the attacks started after you went to Ishbal. There’s got to be some connection. And he was right – it might have been stupid, but I really was secretly hoping that we’d open the door and somehow find that he’d escaped, and that he was the guy who was doing all this. Ed was so sure – “
“Ed? What are you talking about?” Roy frowned.
“Oh, I ran into him and we were tossing ideas around, and Kimbley’s name came up. Ed thought he fitted the pattern, and was sure we’d solved the mystery. I knew it didn’t make sense – that we’d have heard if Kimbley had escaped – but the guy really did fit what we were seeing.” Again the shrug, this time a little sheepish. “I couldn’t get the hope out of my head, so I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that Kimbley was actually there.”
Roy smiled faintly. “See what happens when you let Ed get carried away?”
“I guess so. But speaking of Ed...what gives, Roy? I really can’t believe that you’ve sent him away right now.”
“That’s what I mean about trying to function around here while I’m in chains,” Roy complained. “He’s needed out in Youswell. I can’t just stop everything and let the rest of the country fall apart because of our case here.”
“But are you sure it was something that just couldn’t wait? I mean – remember how essential he and Alphonse were, the last time you had to put out one of the fires. Imagine what would have happened if they hadn’t been there to reinforce the walls when the explosions happened.”
“I know what you mean, but what am I supposed to do, Maes? If there’s something out there brewing that only an alchemist can sniff out and deal with, am I just supposed to ignore it?”
“No, but aren’t there other alchemists you could recruit for the job?”
“There’s no one like Ed for this sort of thing. You know that.”
Maes sighed. “I guess you’re right. I just...Ed’s got such insight. He’s been…” Again the hesitation, as he finally came around to the front of the couch and sat down across from his friend. “I suppose I should tell you. I’ve had Edward and Alphonse looking over the earlier buildings, trying to find traces of the alchemist who set the fires. They were the ones who showed us that there were no chemical traces of any fire-setting fuel. That’s how we finally realized it was an alchemist without any doubt. So I’ve been hoping...”
Roy looked down at his hands. “You were hoping they could find out who it was.”
“Something like that. Our usual investigators are in way over their heads on this one.”
“I see. I wondered why you’d been talking to Ed so often lately.” Roy smiled ruefully. “Sorry to disrupt the investigation, Maes. But it’s too late now...the boys are gone, and it could be several days before they check in again. So I guess they’re out of the investigation now. It might have helped if you’d told me, you know.”
“I know, I know.” Maes leaned forward, elbows on his knees, But you had so much on your plate already. And it’s not like you’re feeling any better, the longer this goes on. I’m really worried about you, Roy. I want to get this solved before the whole thing drives you around the bend.”
Incongruously, his friend seemed to relax, and his lazy smile returned. “Come on, Maes,” he teased. “Weren’t you listening to Kimbley? I’m already around the bend. So you can cross that worry off your list.”
Maes snorted. “Right. I feel so much better. Maybe what I’m really worried about is that this is going to drive me around the bend.”
Roy leaned forward, matching his pose, and stared earnestly into his face. “Don’t let this do that to you, Maes. You’re going to be fine. Think of Gracia and Elysia instead of me. There’s nobody in this world more sane than you, and you’re going to be fine, no matter how this turns out. That...that’s the one thing that helps me, while all this is happening – knowing that in the end, you’ve got them, and they’re going to make it all right for you. So don’t make me wrong about that. Okay?”
As the conversation ended and Maes breezed back through the outer office, waving farewell to its three inhabitants, it suddenly occurred to him that Roy had managed to divert him yet again. He’d managed to prevent Maes from asking the question, “And what is going to keep you sane, and make it all right for you?”
He fretted to Gracia about it frequently, over the next few days, especially as he saw Roy growing more and more exhausted (and his temper more and more frayed) every time he popped in to the office. It was pretty transparent, whenever he “just happened” to be nearby and therefore dropped in, but he didn’t care how obvious he was.
“This is worse than it was before Roy took his vacation,” he said gloomily over supper one evening. “I’m almost at the point of going to Hakuro again and recommending that Roy be sent away on leave, to some kind of retreat or health facility or something.”
“Oh dear,” Gracia frowned, slicing some meat into small chunks for Elysia, “I can just imagine how he’d react to that.”
“It would be...horrible. It would probably make him worse, not better. And he’d feel so...betrayed. I can’t do that to him, at least not yet. I just can’t. But still...” Maes sighed, staring at his meat and potatoes and wondering if he could muster an appetite. “It’s really not good, Gracia. Much more of this, and he’s going to be as bad as he was right after Ishbal.”
“Is that how he seems?” she asked quietly. “Right after Ishbal, he was eaten up by guilt, and ready to kill himself, or do something terrible with his alchemy. Is that how bad he is?”
“Not yet. He’s still holding it together, under all the stress. So he hasn’t sunk back into that. Yet. But you just have to take one look at Riza’s face to know she sees what’s happening too. And has no idea how to stop this.” Maes set down his utensils and took a drink of water. “It’s strange...”
“What is, dear?”
“That visit to Kimbley made everything worse than it was. It’s been since then... But Roy knew what Kimbley was likely to say to him. Or at least, he had to have some idea. So why did he insist on going? He said it was for our protection, but Kimbley’s security is so tight that we really didn’t need it, no matter what he said. And Roy knew that. So why did he want to go? I just don’t get it.”
But he wasn’t allowed to ask about the visit again, unfortunately. Over the next few days, Roy absolutely refused to talk to Maes alone again, and Maes didn’t feel he could press the issue without disrupting the entire office. And things had been disrupted among Roy’s people badly enough already.
Everyone’s nerves were getting frayed, in fact, not just Roy’s. Because they were coming up on two weeks since the last fire. And everyone knew what that meant.
On top of that, the investigation of all the buildings was encountering the usual blank walls and dead ends. There was simply nothing in any of them to help them find out what was going on, not a single shred of evidence. If only Ed and Al were still here! Damn Roy for sending them away at the moment when they were most needed! The one thing Maes had hoped might finally provide clues and help them break the case...gone.
So when at last the phone rang again in the dead of night, making him leap out of bed with his heart pounding in his throat, he expected to hear the fire chief once more telling him that another warehouse had been set ablaze.
But instead, Maes heard the voice of Lieutenant Havoc.
“Hughes – sorry to wake you. But you need to come to Roy’s place.”
“Why?” Maes demanded, choking around the lump of fear in his throat. “Has there been an attack?”
“No – sorry – nothing like that. It’s just – Roy’s in a bad way. It’s – really bad, Maes. You’re probably the only one who can talk to him. Please come, before – just please come.”
(See Chapter 11)