The soldier in the reception room snapped to attention, then hurriedly grabbed the phone and dialed the main offices that oversaw alchemists. Allen had already turned his head, casually taking in the State Alchemist facility. The drill yard was broad and bare, pocked with craters, the earth littered with half-rotted timbers and blue-stone chunks. Behind it stood a four-story building—plain, tidy, not ostentatious—except for the huge alchemical emblem of mithril gleaming on the rooftop.
The receptionist rapped lightly on the glass between them. When Allen turned back, the man passed his letter across with both hands and said, "Colonel Abrams invites you in. He's on the second floor, last room on the east side. Please keep your letter safe."
Allen caught the hint of humility in the man's posture; a flicker of amusement—and greed—passed through his eyes. He'd already met Captain Hughes: lively, and honestly a bit much. Hughes had gone on and on with photos of his daughter before getting down to business. From that talk, Allen learned Hughes was the number two in Intelligence—likely the heir apparent. His superior was under investigation, and Hughes himself was the one heading that probe, making him the frontrunner to take the top seat.
In this world, men like Hughes were the modern echo of the old imperial secret police—powerful enough to be frightening. They could launch investigations into anyone, even the Führer. With evidence, they could move for removal and then arrest. And right now, Hughes was investigating his own boss.
Before meeting Hughes, Allen had assumed the army was everything. The army had real power; as long as it wasn't insurrection, a commander could move local forces on short notice. Now he saw how wrong he'd been. A general wasn't necessarily stronger than the secret police. Back on Earth in the Ming dynasty, the grand commandant Liu Jin could call the winds. As long as he didn't rebel, Allen felt sure he could climb to the top of the heap.
He pinched the letter between his fingers, shook his head to clear the clutter, and stepped into the country's alchemical seat of power.
Inside, the mood was oddly leisurely. Most rooms held only two or three people, reading newspapers or napping. It was a far cry from the bustle and heat of Hughes's world.
When Allen reached the last door on the east end of the second floor, he hadn't even knocked before it opened. He blinked at the department chief himself—Abrams—standing there to greet him, and felt a jolt. He wasn't naïve enough to think the man who managed every State Alchemist had come to the door for his sake, nor for Mustang's. He must be showing face to Hughes, who stood behind Allen.
Steadying himself, Allen politely offered a hand. "Hello. Pleased to meet you. You can call me Allen."
Abrams was in his prime—like the government itself: young. He seemed genuinely pleased. He gripped Allen's hand with both of his and shook hard, his smile pulling his facial muscles taut until they twitched, like a mother after a long separation greeting her toddler again. Even so, Allen caught the sliver of wariness in Abrams's eyes—guarded, careful.
"Heh, Captain Hughes has been telling me about a promising young talent joining our ranks. Seeing you today, I can confirm it—limitless prospects!" He laughed, released one hand, and stood aside with a flourish. "Ah! Look at me—keeping us in the doorway. Please, come in, don't mind the mess~"
After that brief, surprised first beat, Allen kept the small talk flowing. Both men seemed to sense something more beneath the surface, yet the warmth didn't flag. When they sat, Abrams produced a certificate and a silver pocket watch from a drawer and set them on the desk.
"Hughes already briefed me before you came. Since you've been jointly recommended by Major Mustang and Captain Hughes, there's no need to trot out the kiddie tests. Your certificate and the silver pocket watch amplifier are ready. Sign here, and you're a State Alchemist."
That was it? Allen had expected written exams, a practical, and a "wait ten days for results" brush-off. But faster was better. He scooped up the certificate and pen and scrawled his name in bold strokes, then slipped the pocket watch into his trouser pocket. With a helpless little smile, he rose to take his leave. Abrams didn't press him to stay—he saw him to the door with a smile, shut it, and his face went dark at once.
Leaving the certification center, Allen felt great. Power—so simple to acquire. He clipped the watch chain to his belt and rolled the watch across his palm as he walked. People chattering along the hall fell silent the instant they saw the silver watch, going back to their business with careful hands. In this world, State Alchemists held the power of life and death over civilians. If Allen felt like it, he could kill a couple of passersby, file a flimsy justification, and the deaths would be chalked up as accidents.
He hadn't gone far before he reached Hughes's door. If he wanted into Intelligence, he'd need to build a strong rapport with Hughes.
He rang. The door didn't open to Hughes but to his daughter instead. A lively little girl—like her father—chatty and inquisitive.
For example: "Mister, why is your skin that color? Mister, why aren't you wearing a shirt? Mister, why aren't you coming in?"
Allen was starting to flag when Hughes appeared, scooped up his daughter, and rasped his mustache against her cheek, drawing a string of bell-bright giggles.
"See? I didn't lie, did I? My daughter is the cutest princess in the world." He pulled the door wide and walked Allen into the living room shoulder to shoulder. After a bit of playful teasing, he had his wife lead the girl away. The happiness on his face settled into a serious look. "Well? All set?"
Allen nodded and took out the silver watch to show he was officially a State Alchemist.
Hughes finally exhaled, as if the weight of the day had been a grind. "Good. You don't know—there's something off about Abrams. We've already started digging. By the way, did he ask you anything when you met?"
Allen understood the wariness he'd seen in Abrams's eyes; the man must have taken him for Intelligence. He just smiled and told Hughes everything exactly as it had happened.