Isaka rubbed the ointment on the inside of her thigh. She winced as it stung, but according to the doctor, that was proof it was working. “I’m telling you, your seat was too tall. That’s why you chafed so badly.” Red-wind said from outside the tent. “You should have said something.” She rubbed the ointment in and it stung even worse as she massaged it lightly. When she was done, she applied the gauze pad the doctor had given her and got dressed.

“If I never have to use standing seats again, It’ll be too soon. Who the hell designed those things anyway?” Isaka complained as she gingerly walked out of the tent.

“I don’t know, but they probably had a bit of help from the devil.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the devil.”

“My people have a rich mix of faiths. Tradition often is mixed with more modern concepts of Christianity and forms their own unique traditions. There was one tribe I heard mixed Norse mythology with their belief in the corn mothers. The Paiute are cool like that.”

“So . . . ?”

“It means yes. We believe in the devil. When it suits us.” Isaka snorted and Red-wind smirked.

“Convenient.”

“It really is.”

They walked down the length of the tent city as the sun rose in the sky overhead. It was the day after they landed. Isaka had been notified of orders on her data pad as she tried to sleep. The annoyingly loud chime had woken her up a few minutes before sunrise. It’s not like I’m actually in the military, she thought bitterly as she remembered the rude wake up call. I’m in the civilian detachment. The two of them got to the end of their row and found nearly a dozen people from their assigned group. Group S-3 read clearly on their shirts as they stood around waiting.

“Hello everyone,” Isaka said as she and Red-wind joined them. The group of builders, teachers, doctors, and even a couple of lawyers were the ‘founding’ team for the support settlement they had been assigned. Their mission was to work with the army corp of engineers in building their town and the unique buildings they would need to meet their settlement’s assigned goals.

The team greeted her warmly enough, but Isaka was sure nearly all of them found it odd that a woman as young as she, was leading a group between one and two decades her senior. “Anyone heard from Greg? He was supposed to be grabbing the survey truck. Oh, speak of the devil. . .”

A truck that looked to Isaka like someone had dug it out of the Vietnam war museum slowly pulled up next to the tent city and made its way to where they were waiting. The thing had benches in the flatbed that faced each other, and benches that faced outwards. The cab of the truck barely had a front windshield. Other than that, it was open to the air and the bugs that seemed to love the wet, dewy morning.

When the old style truck came to a stop, everyone began loading in the back. “Hey Greg! Thanks for grabbing the truck.” Isaka said as she pulled herself up to the cab. Red-wind joined the group in the back, as the cab barely had room for the driver and her.

“No problem darlin” Greg said as he flicked a toothpick out of his mouth. He chewed the things. It was a disgusting habit, but Isaka didn’t bother him about it. She had read in his file he had a massive addiction to chewing tobacco before the integration. She concluded the tooth pick thing was a replacement behavior for him as he couldn’t get chewing tobacco easily out here in the middle of nowhere. “Besides, the supply clerk is cute. I think once we get the dance hall set up, I’m going to ask her to go to opening night.” Isaka grinned. Greg was a good man, the lead builder and contractor on the project. He had a master’s degree in construction management, and had been on the job at major construction sites for almost as long as Isaka had been alive. He was a hardworking widower, honest, and as straight a shooter as Isaka had ever met. But there was one problem.

His wife had died nearly ten years ago from cancer, and Greg was over level 5. Every older person above level 5 was experiencing a resurgence of hormones and feelings that they had thought muted as their bodies recuperated and healed from the ravages of old age. The Integration had increased everyone over the age of 40s physicality scores by 5 points once they reached level 5. It was the system’s way of balancing things out for the elderly who had to survive in the new harsher world, or at least that was the explanation Isaka believed. Regardless, it made Greg and the other older members of her team much more. . . randy, then she was comfortable with.

“Just keep it in your pants until then, okay? The last thing we need is a pregnant fifty something office clerk looking to get child support from our town’s lead contractor before the first building’s foundation has had time to settle.” Greg laughed, checked the rearview mirror. Seeing everyone was seated safely, he started the truck forward.

“Darlin, you’re one of the meanest ball busters I’ve ever met.” She glared at him, letting the silence do her talking for her. He laughed again. “You glare better than a drill sergeant. You know that?” Isaka had to fight to keep the scowl on her face. She liked Greg, he reminded her of her father. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Hot damn, I can’t tell you how distracting having the body of a twenty-year-old is after so long.” That made her smile, and she looked down at her data pad. She knew what he meant. She had been in her twenties not too long ago herself.

“Major Dawson should meet us at the site. He’s the one in charge of our new settlement’s defense, so play nice. No ‘dick measuring’ contests like what happened with that soldier the other day.” Greg chuckled. “I mean it. I can’t have you locked up. Right now, you’re probably the most important person on our team.”

“Darlin, I was a marine before I started slinging shingles. If there is one thing I know, it’s how to get on a ground pounder officer’s good side.” He reached down and pulled up a brown paper bag and sloshed the liquid inside. Isaka scowled, but Greg just laughed and put it away. “That’s the price of a good first impression. It’ll break the ice even with the most cold and stuffy officer.” She hoped he was right, because Isaka had not had good luck in her interactions with the military leadership so far. There was a really good reason they had stuck her with the civilians, and not drafted her as some kind of giant slaying sniper like she had expected. She had ‘issues’ with authority, according to the assignment officer who had interviewed her for placement. The fact she was now basically the appointed mayor of a small town that hadn’t even been built yet had not been lost on her.