Everyone was gathered around the conference table. Mustang, Breda, Hawkeye and Falman were seated in the same places they had been before. The little Sergeant was standing up and bending over something on the table between Mustang and Breda. Havoc was sitting in a chair to the left of where Miles had sat before, his headset on the table in front of him.
Havoc glanced over at the door. "Hi, Major Miles," he said, then turned his attention back to the conversation at the table.
"Gloves on or off?" Mustang was asking, holding up hands in plain gray gloves.
Miles noticed he wasn't wearing his earpiece.
"Off, of course," said Breda.
"But the scars are so ugly!" complained the only person in the room who couldn't actually see them. "Hi, Major," Mustang added, waving a hello in no direction in particular.
He pulled the gloves off. "Can you see the transmutation circle on my right hand?" he asked.
"Not really, sir," said Fuery, looking up from his work. Miles noticed that the sergeant was doing something with Mustang's earpiece. "There are some broken lines, but they look more like wrinkles than anything else."
Mustang looked horrified. "Then I'm wearing the gloves. Definitely!" he said, starting to pull them back on. "Do they really look like wrinkles?"
"I wouldn't worry about it, sir," said Hawkeye, dryly. "Compared to the sword scar, you really don't notice what's left of the transmutation circle."
"Wonderful," muttered Mustang, but he started removing the gloves again anyway. "I didn't mind the transmutation circle," he added peevishly. "That looked good."
Miles, incredulous at the exchange, finally walked over to the table and sat down. "Sir," he said, "Your scars are a badge of honor!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Brigadier," said Havoc. "Listen to the Major."
Mustang's gloves were off again, and he was rubbing the scars of one hand with the other, as if he could erase them. "Yes, well, he's a Briggs man."
He turned in the direction of Miles' voice. "Major, I'd like to ask you to tell me when you enter or leave the room. I can't always have Havoc or Hawkeye watching out for me. The Captain, at least, generally has more important things to do."
"Thanks sir," said Havoc, in a tone that perfectly matched the rolling of his eyes.
"How did your meeting go?" asked Mustang.
"I met with the Headman and Cleric Bozidar," reported the Major. "They would like to know how you got the Stone. They thought Dr. Marcoh had it."
"He did. He gave it to me to help with the Ishvalan Restoration," Mustang answered.
The Brigadier's voice and face gave nothing away, but Falman and Fuery looked upset about something, and Breda's and Havoc's faces suddenly went totally blank. Only Hawkeye's face was unchanged, probably because her normal expression was so unreadable. The Major resolved to talk to Falman, or track down Marcoh, after this meeting.
"So what does the Headman think?" asked Mustang. "Did he give you any idea who should get the Stone?"
"The Cleric will take it, and then they'll have an Alchemist destroy it to release the souls," said Miles. "The Headman is working out who the witnesses should be."
"Good," Mustang said, seeming relieved. "I was worried the Headman might want to keep it and use it himself. They'll want an Ishvalan Alchemist. Will they use Little Brother, or do they have someone else in mind?"
Miles paused. Mustang knew about Little Brother?
"Come, come, Major," Mustang said impatiently. "Of course you've been followed. We know you traveled down here with another Ishvalan that people call Little Brother, and we know that he was the eyewitness that told you about these." He lifted his hands briefly, and then went back to alternating between rubbing them or, by what looked like sheer force of will, holding them still.
Miles cleared his throat. "I don't know if they have any other Alchemists available, but I think they would definitely prefer to have Little Brother do it. They think that if you, personally, give him the Stone and he destroys it, they'd be able to satify some of the more radical elements of their community."
"Not a bad idea. But it puts me in a difficult situation," Mustang mused. "It has to be publicly obvious that I know who he is for the scenario to work, and yet if I make it pubicly obvious, I have to work out a way to avoid arresting him."
"Not to mention we should also have a ranking military witness to the destruction of the Stone," said Breda, "who would then also see Little Brother."
"What about the Brigadier General?" asked Miles, surprised. "He'll be there."
"Well," said Roy, with a wry smile, "if you can figure out how I could be an eyewitness to the destruction of the Stone, we'd all like to hear about it."
The Major felt his face go hot with embarrassment.
Then Falman spoke. "We thought about having the Brigadier hold the Stone while it was being destroyed, but besides being dangerous, that would also bring up possible charges that he'd transmuted it himself instead of letting it be destroyed."
"And if he held it in his open hand, to make it visible to all the other witnesses, how could he tell the difference between the Stone being destroyed and someone just lifting it out of his hand?" continued Havoc.
"I still think the best solution is to promote Captain Hawkeye to Brigadier General. Then she can be the witness," said Roy.
"Which of course would require you to be promoted to Lieutenant General at the very least," Hawkeye said.
"A sacrifice I am willing to make," Roy said solemnly.
Miles started to chuckle. The speed with which these people could move from the deadly serious to the utterly inane was breathtaking.
"That can't be our Briggs man, can it?" said Roy in mock surprise, smiling.
"Brigadier, please put the gloves on," Miles said. "What about Major General Armstrong as your witness?"