Date: June 13, 2440 Time: 4:45 MTZ
— Wounded Knee, South Dakota
“You have come a long way to stand before the wind,” John Iron Horse, Master Sergeant, Baker Company, Logistics 4th Corps Amazon Military, Retired, said to his old commander. The words carried a note of respect and rebuke in equal measure. “You could have simply called, and we could have done this at the office with none the wiser.”
“I have needed to come here for a long time,” Matt replied, eyes fixed on the prairie horizon. The wind was strong, carrying grit and ghosts alike. Wounded Knee was more than a landmark—it was a debt.
“The Church of the Messiah is over yonder.” John tipped his chin toward a small structure across the plain.
“Churches are for marrying and burying,” Matt said softly. “I’m somewhere in between.”
A wry grin ghosted across John’s face. “So I heard. Has she helped the Ghost in the Night return to being the man in the sheets?”
Matt huffed, half a laugh, half a sigh. “We are expecting. But promises don’t keep themselves. The first thousand power units will be delivered to the reservation this week, as we agreed.”
John nodded, but his eyes narrowed. “It is always a pleasure to do business with you. But that isn’t why you came.”
Matt turned toward him. “I’m preparing another surprise. A small V’ren tech team—production facility, run as a cooperative. Five hundred labor jobs, fifty admin. It’s yours to staff, and yours to secure.”
John studied him carefully. “That kind of investment will bring attention. The SAC’s been sniffing around again. They’ve tried stirring up talk among the councils—pushing for oversight committees, spreading rumors of corruption, even dropping bribes in Amazon’s name. Same old playbook.”
“I expected as much,” Matt said flatly. “That’s why I trust you. If the SAC wants to meddle, let them. You’ll know before they even set foot on the rez. And when they overreach, you’ll be ready.”
John gave a slow nod. “Then tell me what you are really after.”
Matt looked back across the land. “I need to fulfill a promise made to those who died here. No unkept oaths, no ghosts at my table. Not when I finally have the chance to keep them.”
The wind filled the silence, carrying with it the memory of centuries.
At last John said, “It is good that you remember your history.”
“Speaking of history,” Matt said, his mouth quirking. “You’ll never guess who I met recently.”
“More impressive than a bunch of green-skinned aliens?”
“I met Angel Magsaysay’s son.”
John blinked, genuinely surprised. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
John chuckled, eyes softening at the name. “What’s she up to?”
“Herding cats in Michigan.”
“Sounds about right.” John shook his head, laughing. “If anyone can make them obey, it’s her.” He turned and began walking back toward the vehicles, his boots crunching over brittle grass.
Matt stayed where he was, the weight of history pressing into him.
“Are you coming back?”
T’mari’s voice was gentle, her hand slipping into his.
“Part of me will always be tied to this place,” Matt said. “By blood and by deed. All I can do is make things right in the present.” He squeezed her hand, then finally let himself smile. “We can go now.”
Together they walked away, leaving the wind and the ghosts behind—for the moment.
