10. Mika #4
Aidan was thankful for the opportunity to work at the outpost, as the position sounded like the perfect way for him to get his life back on track.
I remembered he’d made an offhand comment once that before coming here, his life had been fine, but fine wasn’t good, and without a sense of purpose or stability, he would never achieve better.
But he questioned if it was necessary, and he asked for forgiveness for the loaded phrasing, for him to spy?
The reply was professional but cool. It was couched in professional speech, but the answer was clear: if Aidan wanted the chance to better his life, he would remember his place and do as he was told.
He was to write reports on the doings of everyone at the outpost to keep AndersonB in the loop of what was happening.
That it didn’t matter how Aidan felt about what he was being hired to do, and it didn’t matter if he thought a detail was unimportant, he was to report it.
And that was when the individual emails started being sent by Aidan, the first one dated the first night he worked here.
They were the reports, and as I read them, skimming mostly, I couldn’t help but admit that while Aidan had always been a pretty good writer, he had improved in the intervening years.
He had described what he’d witnessed, the jobs he saw everyone doing, and even commented on some relationships.
I was barely mentioned at first, but although I couldn’t remember the exact date we had started getting along, I would bet the first mention of my name came right after that.
There was how close Jake and Reno were, how tightly knit Mav and Carter were, and how Colin was shaping up to be an unexpected second in command because he was good at dealing with all of us, and handling Xander who could be ‘difficult, obstinate, and at times, aggressive.’
Horror mingled with anger and a sense of betrayal.
Even as I read on and saw how the reports grew vague, veering away from observations about interpersonal dynamics and focusing more on how everyone worked together, I still felt the ugly, festering pit of outrage and fury stewing in my gut.
Sure, it seemed like he had been hesitant about doing it in the first place, but he’d done it anyway.
And sure, he had obviously been growing less interested in including details in his reports… but he was still doing them.
He wanted to stop; he was trying to stop; I tried to tell myself.
But he hadn’t stopped, and he hadn’t told us.
True, but he wanted to tell us, or at least me, but he again didn’t know how.
After all that talk about honesty and not keeping secrets, and then to see he was doing exactly that, still?
I wanted to understand; I wanted to hear what he had to say.
I wanted to punch him and make sure he was never allowed to come back to this place, my home.
“Fuck,” I hissed, slamming his laptop shut before I could bring myself to read everything on the screen again.
Everything I had just read was the story of a desperate man making an impulsive choice that had backed him into a corner and left him at odds with what he believed was right.
A man who had pushed through his own unease but was still forced to drag it along even as it grew bigger and heavier.
A man who had kept doing something he despised, feeling trapped in a web he might not have created, but had watched wrap its way around him.
Desperate and at war with himself, as he had done what he was supposed to do, while desperate to break out and do what he should do.
“And what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” I demanded of no one.
I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t seen what I had seen, but what else was I supposed to do? Wait for him to find a way to talk to me about it? Confront him about it? Tell the others?
No, I couldn’t tell the others. I was furious with Aidan for what he’d been doing behind our backs when he had been welcomed with such warmth and trust, but damn it all, it was Aidan.
He could be so stupid sometimes, an idiot as Xander would say, but for all his clumsy fumbling idiocy, he was a good man at heart.
And it was clear he was trying to be that person, even if he was lost and utterly alone in the attempt.
I at least owed him the opportunity to explain, even if that meant I chewed him apart.
The door opened and Reno came in. “So I would really appreciate if you’d give Xander something before he gets on all of our…what?”
I opened my mouth, staring at my brother in helpless disbelief. Here was the only person at the outpost I would feel comfortable telling what I had just discovered, but the words…there were none.
“Mikhail?” he asked cautiously. “What’s…what’s wrong? Jesus, you look like someone just died horribly right in front of you.”
I suppose in a way that was true because it felt that way.
“Reno, I…” But again, there was nothing for me to summon up and explain what was wrong.
My laptop made a soft noise, and I turned robotically, responding to the call absently and looked at my screen. My stomach twisted as I read it, quickly making sense of what I was seeing.
“Shit,” I hissed. I snatched up the radio. “Xander, I’ve got your answer, and you’re not going to like it.”
“Meet me at the main house,” he shot back immediately, and I hopped up.
“That bad?” Reno asked warily.
“That bad,” I assured him.
Everything I’d just discovered was going to have to wait until another day.