Sharing Sand
When Major Miles came down from Briggs with Little Brother in the first weeks after the Promised Day, he checked into the BOQ at Central, and Little Brother stayed with the headman's family. Mustang was on disability leave and didn't seem to be much of a factor.
Headman Benjamin and Cleric Bozidar already had a network of connections across Amestris with the main concentrations of refugees in Central City and East City. The headman stayed in Central City, while the High Cleric traveled regularly between the two cities, since there was a shortage of clerics. Now with Major Miles there, they could corroborate what the refugees told them about conditions in Ishval with the Amestrian military reports.
"There are no survivors in Kanda or Daliha at all," said Miles. "The Flame Alchemist left some structures intact, but his fires were so hot they destroyed all plant and animal life, including seeds and burrows. The Red Lotus Alchemist left no structures intact, but some plant and animal life has returned.
"Gunja has seen the greatest survival rate and return of refugees so far. Some people were able to hide in the rocks to the west of Gunja, and others were able to get to Xerxes to the east."
"How many?" asked the headman.
"We need to do a census," said Miles. "So far, we only have anecdotal evidence. Refugees know of three families in the rocks, totaling about twenty people, and there's at least one clan of about fifty people in Xerxes."
"Seventy people!" Benjamin exclaimed. "The population of Gunja was over ten thousand!"
"We need to do a census," repeated Miles. "There could be more. But we have no reports of any survivors in Ishval outside Gunja at all.
"The vegetation and animal life in Gunja were not greatly impacted by the war. The sheep herds were scattered, of course, but there remain sheep and goats in the wild in the hills, and some of them have made it down to Gunja City and other places where there used to be villages, where they can find grazing now.
"There are also some structures left standing, and there's plenty of building material available from the ones that were demolished. We can start building with what's already there, especially if we can use alchemy in the reconstruction."
Three months after the Promised Day, Mustang appeared to be back in action, even blind. The Ishvalan philosopher's stone was destroyed, and the Ishvalan Restoration Act had been passed.
"We're moving to East HQ," said Major Miles. Brigadier General Mustang is taking over Fuhrer Grumman's former position from interim commander Hakero. And now that the Ishvalan Restoration Act has gone through, we can establish a field office. You're all agreed it should be in Gunja?"
"Yes," said Bozidar, who had become High Cleric. "I'm going to convene a Calling on the use of alchemy and I'd like to give Gunja City as the location."
"When?" asked Miles. "There's nothing there now to support anything like that. But it does look like the best place to start rebuilding."
"Why not call them to Central City?" asked the headman. "That's the largest concentration of our people. And all the Ishvalans studying alchemy are in Central City," he added. "A dozen or two."
"We don't want to draw our people back to Amestris," said Little Brother, with thinly veiled anger.
"We regularly deploy logistical support for an army in the field, which can be up to fifty thousand people, within a month," said Miles. "It would all be tents, though. We'd have to bring in all the food to start out with, and re-establish the wells again for water. And set up sanitation systems. But we wouldn't need to store or maintain any major weapons systems. Just rifles and handguns for basic security against bandits."
"It's not likely to be anything close to that scale," said Bozidar. "If you think we can get something set up in a month, I'll set the Calling to start in a month, in Gunja."
"Make it two months," said Miles. "We don't know what we might run into."
The members of the newly formed Ishvalan Relations Office were meeting for the first time with the Ishvalan leadership in East City. The meeting shack was in the slums of East City now, instead of the slums of Central. They were sitting on an elaborately woven carpet, as they had in Central, but this time they were arranged around a low rectangular table.
Miles, Breda, Havoc and the High Cleric were already sitting around the table when the headman finally arrived from Central City. Benjamin sat at the end of the table next to the High Cleric, and began the introduction ceremony. "Benjamin, headman of Ishval," he said, dipped his hand into a shallow narrow dish of sand that went down the length of the table, and touched his forehead. The rest followed suit, giving their name and rank, and touching sand and forehead, ending with High Cleric Bozidar.
"We want to discuss the logistics requirements for the Calling in Gunja," said Miles. "Second Lieutenant Havoc served in Ishval in Gunja, so he's very familiar with the area. Havoc, would you –"
"Very familiar, Havoc?" interrupted the headman, coldly.
Jean looked him in the eye. "Yes, sir. A year in '08 and then some operations since then with the Brigadier. So I know the roads –"
"'08?" asked the headman, sneering.
So they were going there first thing. "Yes, sir, during the Ishval Genocide Campaign. I'm one of them. Like the Brigadier and Captain Hawkeye. My body count is way closer to Hawkeye's than Mustang's. Way more non-combatants than Hawkeye, though."
"Non-combatants!" said the Headman, scornfully. "You mean children, don't you?"
"Not just. Kids, ladies, old folks," Jean answered. "Am I here to confess? 'Cause I'll do that if I have to."
"There will come a time for confessions, Second Lieutenant," said the High Cleric calmly. "But for now, we need to know what we can have in place before the Calling. We were talking about setting up facilities for an entire company of two hundred people, and that's just the Amestrian military volunteers. Will the current roads be sufficient?"
Miles couldn't get over how calmly Mustang and his people talked about the genocide. The headman was upset, but the High Cleric and Little Brother didn't blink an eye.
"We can get through with jeeps, and horse-drawn wagons," said Havoc. "Even before the war, the roads out to Gunja City weren't the best. They just supported the surrounding villages – sheep herders, mostly."
"Is that going to be good enough?" asked the High Cleric. "What about re-settling the refugees? What about facilities for the Calling? How are we going to supply all that on the roads we have now?"
"We get the military tent city first. That gives any herders left in the area a market for their meat and milk and wool," said Havoc. "Then the farmers from the eastern countryside get into the picture. We used to sell a lot of food in Ishval before the rebellion. Then if the Calling is good, we can build a railroad in. But in the meantime, we can get through with jeeps and horse-drawn wagons, just like we did before the war. That was enough to supply Gunja City before, when it had a population of ten thousand."
After a couple of hours, they were taking a break, when a boy who looked about ten years old came to the flap that covered the door of the shack. "Sister is ready for the Naming, High Cleric," he said.
The High Cleric looked over at the child, startled. "I'm sorry, Rick, I can't do that today." His eyes glanced over at Havoc, and then everyone else's did too. "Tomorrow."
The boy nodded, unhappy but clearly understanding the problem, and left.
"What just happened?" asked Jean. "I know it had something to do with me."
"Second Lieutenant Havoc," said Bozidar, carefully, "I'm a priest. I have to maintain a certain state of ritual purity to perform rites. I shared the sand with you and you carry blood guilt. That means I need to purify myself before I perform the Naming rite. It's not difficult, but it does take time. So I had to put it off until tomorrow."
"Shared the sand, sir?" said Jean. "You mean that?" he asked, pointing to the shallow dish.
"Yes, Second Lieutenant," he nodded.
"Oh, so I better not do that next time," Jean said. No one had said anything during the introductions two hours ago. He wondered if there was anything else he had missed.
"They can't leave you out," objected Breda. "You're part of the team."
"And the priest has to be able to do rites and stuff," countered Jean. "I guess a Naming can be put off, but what if someone was dying?"
"Yes," said Bozidar, surprised that Havoc had come up with that himself. "That would have been serious. I think I had better keep a separate dish for myself."
"The High Cleric of Ishvala not share the sand!" said the headman, appalled.
Jean looked around the table and felt the tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. "Well, I'm the problem. If it works to have a separate dish, then why don't I do that?"
"A separate..." responded the headman, still looking angry.
"Yes," said Bozidar, turning to Havoc and ignoring the headman. "That... would work."
Jean could still feel the tension. "So, okay, do you guys mind if I take a cigarette break?" He waited a moment, and when no one objected, he got up and went outside.
"Not one of them has ever reacted that way," said Bozidar, deep in thought. "I expected anger or dismissal."
"It was a reasonable suggestion," said Little Brother, also thoughtful. "I thought he would evade..."
Miles said nothing, but remembered Mustang taking off his gloves, in deference to Ishvalan souls in the philosopher's stone.
Then Breda left the shack too and found Havoc leaning against a light post, smoking. "They ready for me to come back in there?" he asked.
"You might as well finish your cigarette. You've impressed the High Cleric and Little Brother, but the headman still doesn't like you."
"Impressed?" asked Jean. "So I don't like talking about it. I'm not dumb. I still know it matters. I don't want to do anything to make anybody madder than they have to be."
"Well, Hav," said Breda, "looks like you're the first one like that they've met."
"They've met Mustang," Jean said, shaking his head.
"Have they?" asked Breda. "The destruction of the stone was pretty tightly scripted."