Valentine guessed the room they brought them to had been devoted to science. A yellowing periodic table hung on the wall, and all the tables had a thick, black, chemically resistant covering. Cabinets on the wall held binders rather than test tubes and Bunsen burners. A preserved Reaper head sat in a jar on the counter, next to glass-covered trays holding molds of Grog tracks and recovered teeth.
A rather sad-looking elderly man, lost in his green uniform collar, sat on a stool, resting his back against a whiteboard. Another man, bald with a lightning-bolt-like zigzag tattooed on each temple, wore a smart steely gray uniform. Blued-steel collar tabs and matching arrowheads on his epaulets gleamed like a polished piano top as he stood talking to Walker.
The guard halted Gide outside, offered her a chair.
"She's my aspirant, Walker", Valentine protested as the other guard led him into the office/classroom.
The older man pulled at his ear. "Hmm... can't say. Can't really say, maybe around the eyes".
"Major Valentine", the bald man said. "My name's Thunderbird. You know Walker, of course, and this is Colonel Kubishev. Colonel Kubishev is semiretired. He came down as a favor to me".
"Sorry, I'm afraid I bunged things up and delayed you a day", Colonel Kubishev said. He had a faint accent. "They asked me to take a look at you. I worked with your father, briefly, in Montana. Calgary Alliance. They asked me about the name and I wanted to see for myself".
None of that meant much. Valentine vaguely remembered the Calgary Alliance being mentioned in War College; it was a short-lived Freehold that collapsed under the Black Summer Famines of the forties.
"I'm honored, sir", Valentine said.
"How is he?"
"He's dead", Valentine said.
"Oh, I am sorry. I am sorry. My wife and I will remember him".
"Thank you, sir".
"You wouldn't know whatever happened to Helen St. Croix, I don't suppose", Kubishev asked.
"He married her", Valentine said. "She's my mother. She died at the same time".
"That's it! He has her hair, exactly", Kubishev said, as though the observation relieved him of a burden. "That is good. That is very good. Died at the same time?" Yes.
"I'm glad you were spared".
"I was eleven. Some distance away at the time".
"Major Valentine, I'm sorry to hear that", Thunderbird said. "Were you aware that your Q-file with Southern Command lists your father as J. D. Valentine and your mother as H. Argent?"
"Argent?"
"Yes, the same as that excellent set of fake Oklahoma papers you had".
Valentine stared. "I couldn't say why that's the case. When I filled out my enlistment paperwork I put down the correct names".
"I don't have that - this is just a short version - but it does list parentage and place of birth. Oh, your birthplace is listed as Rapid City, South Dakota. Strangely coincidental error, still".
"Maximilian Argent was a family friend", Valentine said.
"We don't doubt that the man in this file is you", Thunderbird said.
"I'm glad to hear it, ummm ..".
"Colonel. The insignia for Delta Group is somewhat esoteric. I mean for you to learn it, though. I'd like to have you under my command".
"Delta Group?"
"Lifeweaver Enhanced. Delta is a symbol of change. We're mostly all Bears up here. I'm not sure if it's a regional affinity, or just that we know right where the Fangs are and we don't need Wolves and Cats and whatnot to locate them".
"I've worked with Bears", Valentine said. "If you want me to become one..."