Gallast's report of the nontals made Bill frown. he had to admit he had had some reservations about the operation, but hearing an old friend handle them with such care (even if it was tentative) was just the thing to get Bill worried. "I'll have look at the asylum, Gall. You can count on it." Bill said, appreciating Gallast entrusting as volatile a thing as a mental patient to him, but as Gallast went on Bill paused, rubbing his bristly chin, "As fer the Impacter, I've had no word on him coming in." Bill left out the fact that he had no idea who or what this 'Impacter' was, but Bill made a mental note to find out what it was and keep an eye on it. "Tell you the truth I've only been riding with the nontals a short while, Gal, I-" Bill was interrupted by a young man hurrying up beside him and beginning to chatter away, an odd, cowboy-like twang to his voice and an odd, cowboy-like twang to his personality. "Oh my God yer Bill Mayhew!" Bill paused, looking at the fella grabbing his hand and shaking it energetically, Bill paused and evaluated the boy; "Uh, good ta meet ya?" There came a hail of repeated "Yer Bill Mayhew!"-s, and Bill broke into a half humorous, half bashful grin; "Uh, yeah, I suppose I am, bud. Don't wear it out. No need ta be so star struck there, bud." "Mr. Mayhew I'm one of yer biggest fans! The boys in the mechanics division of the military academy always talked about yer mechanical knowledge and how you put it to use on the battlefield back in the war, so I looked into yer work and I have to say I was very impressed, sir!" Bill did a double-take and paused. He had been kicked out of the army for trying to broker peace with the mentals, and he had been sure the brass had tried to sully his name afterward to make an example. "Yeah, well that was a long time ago, son." Bill rubbed his beard, and had a moment of clarity; engineers don't generally take much stock in politics -Lord knows Bill had initially avoided it like the plague- and supposing his old comrades had spread the word about him? Perhaps preferring to remember him as the guy that worked for numerous breakthroughs in battle-armor and it's supporting systems? It was certainly something the soldiers remembered. Progress in the stuff keeping you alive had the habit of sticking in your brain, and Bill still remembered the gratitude he had received after inventing a padding system that prevented crotch-chafing in a certain polycarbide model- the soldiers didn't forget that one in a hurry.
Bill came out of his reverie with a smile on his face, but modesty took over and he replied; "Thanks, that means a lot, but I wasn't all that special. just implimentin' the stuff my squaddies were thinkin' up and tryin' to keep my friends alive." Bill paused, a stray hand still brushing his beard. His gaze shifted to Harley as she greeted him in a business-like tone. "nobody calls me sir anymore. ma'am. Call me Bill." Bill paused as the kid noticed his situation and massaged his face in shame, his partner in crime(literally) trying to console him. Bill nodded, looking at the two bail-ees a little more seriously, and began gravely admonish them; "I want to know how you two got thrown in prison for disturbing the peace not an hour after arriving. That's gotta be some kind of record." BIll narrowed his eyes and said "in my day you'd be lucky if you were put on lavatory cleaning duty fer a year for something like this." Bill paused a beat, letting the chewing-out sink in, before breaking into a little grin, "Lucky fer you this isn't those days, an' It'll be Hawtiar who decides what to do with yer, so consider yerselves lucky. What are yer names?"
The quiet kid spoke up, Derany , ever astute, mentioning that they had got what they had come for, before asking about the Impacter. Bill paused, his eyes flickering to Gallast as the guard seemed to shiver and began to regale them with his last experience with the nontals.
As the story went on, Bill became stony, unreadable. He seemed to look tired, older, somehow.
This was the kind of news he had been dreading. It was obviously that kid, Newhicks.
Someone like that... That powerful, that uncontrolled...
The last time he had heard about someone like that, he had been tasked with killing them.
Bill turned, walking towards the door and taking a cigarette out of the pack in his jeans. "You've given me a lot to think about, Gallast. Thank ya." Bill paused at the door and turned a little, shooting a nod of sincere gratitude back at the cop. there was nothing he hated more than going in blind. These nontals were going to have to answer a few questions back at camp.
But that was for another time. Right now, he had a favour to return. "I'll go and have a look at that mental patient, Gallast. This wasteland has way too many madmen, it'll be nice to try and help one." Bill looked to the rest of the nontals in the station "The rest of yer, I could use a hand. mabel has more than enough room for all of us, and this mental sounds a little, well..." Bill refrained from using the word 'mental' in it's other context.
Bill paused a moment as Sasha mentioned about getting something to eat while she was drunk; "And fer goodness' sakes, Sasha, act yer age."
with that, the door of the police station swung open, and Bill walked out into the dry evening air, the door swinging shut behind him. He lit up, and Bill heard the quiet fizzle as he looked up at the orange-blue sky, taking a deep, pensive drag.
The sun was on it's way down.
Bill walked to Mabel, the large RV creaking slightly in a listless evening breeze. Bill fished his keys out of his pocket and went to get into the RV.
