“Very well, Sergeant. See that this ... this ... private is suitably disciplined. I will not tolerate such violence under my command. And I'd like that report within fifteen minutes, not thirty."
Jody saluted again. “Of course, sir. Thank you, sir."
Posen stalked off, the proud commandant having solved another impossible scenario, to bask in his success in handling soldiers. He was a proud man. A proud man and something of an ass.
“All right, Wyeth! Let's take care of you, first.” She looked over toward our departing leader, continuing to cuss me out until he was gone from sight. She brought her focus back to me, making me the center of everyone's attention.
“Since you're the one who's injured poor Sergeant Olecki, it seems to me that you should fill in for him while he's laid up. If I could, I'd give you ALL his duties until he returned. Maybe longer, just to teach a lesson.” She carefully avoided mentioning who was going to learn the lesson, but everybody caught it.
“Regrettably, I can't do that. I can give you this duty though: Until poor Sergeant Olecki is sufficiently recovered from his terrible injuries,” her eyes were sparkling, “you're in charge of hand-to-hand combat training for the women of the 179th. Is that clear, Private?"
I would have paid real money to have saluted right then and there. But Jody wasn't an officer. She just should have been one.
“I understand, Sergeant! I'll do the best I can."
“You better! Starting now!"
Nobody cheered, but I could feel the relief going over the crowd. Jody stepped back and I walked to the front, facing my new class.
“All right, class, pay attention! First things first, dogs! Get on your feet!” Everyone jumped to their feet. “Good! Now let's learn a little about defense, shall we? What Sergeant Olecki and I just demonstrated was the proper way to defend, by going over to the attack as quickly as possible. I've discovered it's easier to defend against dead enemies than live ones.” Scattered smiles appeared. “As Sergeant Olecki so capably showed us, someone who's unconscious, bleeding, or dead is normally in a poor position to attack you.” I shook my head in wonder. “Truly, the man has a gift.” More than a few laughs broke out, and I was ready to start.
My first class was two hours. I spent the first ten minutes finding out what they already knew, which was precious little. I had no idea why these women had been taught so little, and I couldn't think of any good reason. I wondered if the men were as poorly trained. With someone like Olecki in charge of A Company, they probably were.
We continued basic training, but at a much accelerated pace, and with an attitude toward the offensive. They eagerly took my approach and caught on quick. I only bruised a couple of them, and cut one. Most had strained muscles and sore hands. But they were a happy crowd when we dismissed. They knew their opponent was not indestructible, and they weren't made of porcelain. Just that change in attitude made for a successful class.
Jody and I waited for the last of them to leave then made for her quarters. I wanted to clean up, but decided to wait until the showers were less crowded. It was always best for a drill instructor keep some distance, at least until she had earned her students’ respect. Besides, that blonde with the hazel eyes was looking at me funny. Her smile stirred an uncomfortable memory of ... of ... something.
Jody's quarters were just like Sus ... my old one had been. Small, efficient, but with only one bed. She pulled out a new uniform—she had rejoined us in the last half hour of drills and was pretty good—but seemed in no hurry to go.
“That was a first rate class you gave, Abigail. Were you an instructor?"
“Not with the Third, Jody. I did some training during the Ethiopian campaigns, though, and things..."
“What Ethiopian campaigns? We don't have anything going on over there, do we?"
“No, no. I'm talking about my first service in the early twenty-first century. I gave my men training as needed before missions."
She looked like I'd slugged her in the face with a two-by-four. She stared, trying to take in what I'd just told her.
“You ... you served that far back? I—I—Abigail, that sounds so incredible!” She shook her head. “I'm not calling you a liar. It's just that ... Wow! That was six and half centuries ago!"
“I know. It's hard to explain.” I wonder what she'd say if I told her the whole truth. “I take it 179th doesn't deal with too many Cues?"
“No, we don't. When I was in the Thirty-fifth Regiment, we cued as many as two a month. But here?” She shrugged. “Like I said, we tend to take low risk missions, and only every other month or so. We've never rescued a ripe, though most are ready to give it a shot."
“Never? Now it's my turn to be incredulous, Jody. In just the two years I've been serving, we've rescued over fifty ripes."
“Don't rub it in. And I don't want to talk about it, as it's a sore point."
“Sorry. Oh, I meant to ask a couple of questions. One, can I increase the number of classes to three a week? And two, am I off kitchen duty now?"
“Yes and no. Yes, you can increase them. I was going to ask you to anyway. You taught them more today than they've learned in past six months. And no, you're not off kitchen duty. In fact, you're on kitchen duty in thirty minutes. I'm tempted to give you a little extra time between the drills and kitchen duty, but the Lieutenant would have my head mounted on his wall if I did."
“What is it with him and Olecki anyway? I think you're right, the Lieutenant doesn't like being pushed around by TAU. But that doesn't come anywhere near to explaining the pleasure he seems to get out of our people getting roughed up. And that's another thing. How come you train separately? And why is it so basic? I can't believe that it's taken a whole year to get so little training in. Has Olecki been the instructor the whole time? Why not you? You're much better than he is. I can tell. So why is he doing something he—"
Jody clapped a hand over my mouth, laughing.
“It's going to be hard thinking of you as a Cue, Abigail, but I'm having no difficulty thinking of you as a teenager. We'll talk later, after your shift. I'll stop by about twenty minutes before you get off and we'll eat together. Now go get cleaned up and report. Scoot!"
She turned me around and pushed me out the door. Jody reminded me of Susie. Oh, Susie! I went to the women's barracks to gather my uniform and get ready. I'd like to tell you my mood, but I just didn't know.
* * * *
“Private Wyeth, reporting for detail!” I announced to a large man with his back to me. He turned around and looked me up and down carefully. He was sweaty and his shirt was spattered with dough and sauce and I don't know what else. He looked like a walking seven-course meal. I had a horrible thought that I had just drawn another Jackson detail. Jackson had abruptly disappeared a few weeks after he goaded me into my first sharding episode and nobody had tried too hard to find him. That didn't mean there weren't other Jacksons around. And an inactive unit like this would really draw them.
“You ain't much on size, are you Wyeth? Well, that doesn't matter. We'll keep you busy.” He smiled broadly and shoved out a dough-encrusted hand. “My name's Hank. How ‘bout you start out with dishes and we'll get acquainted. During lunch and dinner, I'll put you out on the floor, cleaning tables."
“Great. Call me Abigail.” I shook his sticky paw, then looked at my own. “So, what are we serving for lunch, Hank?"
He inspected his own mitt. “Not sure, exactly. It's got a lot of flour in it, though. Some sauce, too. I'd have a better idea if I knew how to cook. Oh, well."
So I spent the next ten hours washing dishes and cleaning tables. Like with the laundry, society had made some advances, but they weren't to be counted among the 179th's assets. As Hank had pointed out, there's wasn't much need for labor saving devices when there was so much cheap labor lying around collecting dust. I appreciated his point, but wished it wasn't being demonstrated on me.
Hank may have joked about not knowing how to cook, but he was really very good. This
outfit didn't offer choices for their meals. You ate what was served or went hungry. Fortunately, Hank was a top-notch chef For lunch we had a kind of pizza, only he used a good deal of corn and.
CUCUMBER PASTE WITH DILL
cucumber paste with dill mixed into the dough. It was an unusual taste, but delicious, too. Dinner was fish with lemon. I had always enjoyed lemon on fish, but it didn't seem right. I would have just used a little salt...
I shook my head and returned to my dishes. Miss DeChant had been an excellent cook for Professor LeClaire, and if I kept up this line of thought, I'd be in danger of sharding. I'd need to be very careful about that.
Quitting time rolled around and I gratefully peeled off my overapron and hung it up. Hank walked in from the serving line.
“Ready to go already?” he said with mock shock. “How can you leave such a fun place? Well, go ahead and abandon me then. May as well take this.” He brought out a plate and offered it to me.
It had a piece of the pizza from lunch. He must have seen me making a pig out of myself on it earlier. Using sauce, he'd bordered the triangular slice and then put a line across the middle, making a red A. I giggled.
“Why, thank you, Hank. I'll assume that's a red A, and not a scarlet letter!"
He looked puzzled until I told him what I meant. Then he turned as red as the sauce. Hearing my laughter, he recovered his composure.
“No, that's not what I meant!” He laughed. “I just wanted to say thanks. You really worked your tail off, and that's nice to see. I like it when someone takes their work seriously."
“Hey, we all serve as we can, Hank. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
“Count on it. We never close. I, personally, haven't slept since April 6, 2664. This kitchen is my life.” He shook his head. “And that is so depressing. Good night."
I went out into the mess area, looking for Jody. She said she'd meet me here right after my shift, to let me tell her what I'd picked up while bussing the tables. I had some interesting tidbits, mainly about the morale of the outfit and gripes against Company A personnel. This was a badly damaged unit.
But she must have been held up or forgotten, for the hall was empty. So was her room when I stopped by. I considered asking the computer for her location, then remembered I had no access. It didn't matter too much, though. It wasn't as though what I had to say was all that important. Munching my pizza, I trudged off to the showers to prepare for some serious sack time.
Forty minutes later, clean and comfortable, I gratefully slipped under the covers. The barracks, which held perhaps sixty bunks, was half full. Most everyone was asleep, but there were a couple groups talking quietly. They looked over at me when I entered, and a few of them waved, but they left me to myself. For tonight, that was fine. I wanted to get adjusted to my new schedule and also let everyone know me a little better—and I them—before I started mixing up with groups. So I waved back and rolled over on my back, putting my hands behind my head. The dark, shadowy ceiling was five meters up, just the right distance for contemplating both it and my future.
And what kind of future did I have? I was a sharded Cue in danger of becoming a full-fledged Shard. All my friends were dead and the stability they represented had been torn from me. I could and would begin making new friends. Even so soon after the attack I already counted Jody as a new friend. Hank, too, and Doctor Ressler.
Most of all, Aaron. Aaron, was gone. He'd been my first love, my only love. During my years as John—how strange it now seemed!—I had been very career-minded. And when I was drafted, it was into the US Recon Forces, where everyone was a soldier to be trained in camp and used in battle. My company had had thirty-one women in it over the three years I was in command, but I only noted it as a quick general estimate of their advantages and disadvantages in combat scenarios. As I came to know each of my soldiers, I refined my assessment of them.
My chief had recruited me into NATech before I'd finished my service, so there was no down time between the two. Once in NATech I had dated some women employees outside of my projects, but their faces were all forgotten, and not just because I no longer had any romantic interest in women. They had been only informal relationships, each one enjoyable but not deep. More friendly than romantic.
My parents had raised me to respect both myself and the women I dated, so I neither believed in nor practiced casual sex. And my faith, firmly established since infancy, held me in good stead. Because of this, I didn't dally with a woman's affections in the twenty-first century, nor with a man's in the twenty-seventh. By the time of my accident at the age of thirty-one, and going through the first two years of my new life, I had not had one single long-term relationship. Until Aaron.
And now Aaron was gone. Could I have another? I knew in my heart that he would want me to, but it was far too soon. It still hurt too much. Oh, Aaron. I rolled over to my side and stared at the barracks.
* * *
Chapter Three
"Psst! Wake up, Private!"
My eyes snapped open and my hand shot for my pistol, which I kept at the top of my bed, below the mattress and against the wall. It wasn't there. But I always left it there when...
I remembered where I was and settled down, feeling sleepiness creeping over me again. That's right. I was in the women's barracks and was now a member of the 179th Regiment, Company A. No, Company B. What had woken me? I lifted my head and looked around.
It was Jody. She was kneeling by my bed and shaking my shoulder. I moaned and plopped my head down, curling tighter around my pillow.
“Go ‘way."
She went from shaking to shoving.
“Wrong answer, Wyeth. Get up. Now.” She stood up and began rummaging through my trunk at the top of my bed. I went up to my elbows and was greeted by a face full of shirt. “Here. Get dressed and meet me outside the hanger in five minutes."
I wanted to say something witty and cutting, but I had all the comeback response of strawberry jam. Besides, she was already gone. Moaning, I slowly dressed into a loose top and shorts. Stomping into my low shoes, a kind of sneaker, I trudged out to the hanger. I was really tired. I suppose it would be a few more days until I was back to full strength. I was fine for standard duties during the day. It was at night that it all caught up with me.
The hanger was deserted. I'd never seen a hanger like this. We always had something going on, whether it was repair, raid preparation, or shipment unloading. Even during the quiet times it was always active since we ran the regiment in shifts. Apparently the 179th ran a single shift, and everybody slept at night.
I mentally shrugged it off and jotted it down as yet another example of unit unreadiness. If they ever wanted to get active, this regiment had a lot of work in front of it. I walked past the hovers and went up the ramp to the hanger shield By now I half expected it to be turned off. To conserve power or something. It was on, but I passed through with little resistance.
Jody was waiting for me on the other side. Sitting on a rock, she stood when I trudged over to her.
“So, what do you think of the 179th, Abigail?” she said without preamble.
“Well, it's hard to say. I've only been active one day, Jody. And most of that was in the kitchen. So it would be difficult to pass—"
“So, what do you think of the 179th, Abigail?” she repeated.
“I don't see how you can even consider this a regiment, Jody. It seems to be equipped okay. And the structure's in place. But everyone seems to be wasting their time. There's no real training going on, the whole base is slipshod, security is a joke and what there is of it is directed toward enhancing the paranoia the whole place has towards NATech.” I took a breath. “I've even seen it in you, Jody."
She looked away. “Go on."
“My one night cleaning tables just reaffirmed my first impressions. There's very little camaraderie, talking is quiet and discouraging. And everyone seems to walk on eggshells around the Company A personnel. I don't blame them too much for that. Your Company
A strikes me as a bunch of rough bullies. That might be okay if they pulled their weight in a fight, but if Sergeant Olecki's skills are any indication, they'd just be cannon fodder in combat."
“Anything else?"
“Yes. I'm not one for talking down officers, and I'll obey the orders I'm given, but Lieutenant Posen strikes me as .” I chose my words carefully here, “having skills that would be better suited elsewhere."
She gave a short laugh. “That's incredibly diplomatic of you, Abigail. Especially for a youngster like you.
“And your impressions are very close to accurate. This unit is as close to inactive as it can be. In the past four months, we've gone on five raids. Four of them—"
“Five raids in four months isn't too bad,” I interrupted.
“No? Four of them were salvage missions. The fifth one was a real target, a convoy supplying the Douala garrison. But it was called off ten minutes before contact."
“Why?” I yawned and rubbed my eyes. I couldn't seem to shake the cobwebs.
“Officially? Because NATech reinforced the convoy halfway from Alexandria. Unofficially, because the Lieutenant canceled the raid due to ‘uncertain risk factors'.
“Abigail, those reinforcements were a total of two transports each carrying twenty troops. The whole convoy didn't have one heavy gun and couldn't phase. Hell, we could take out the Douala garrison itself. We have the manpower and supplies. What we don't have is the drive and leadership."
“Don't blow a gasket, Jody."
“What's a gasket?"
“It's a seal used to hold ... never mind. I'm just saying don't let it eat you up. I have to admit I'm very disappointed in the 179th myself. But what can I do?"
She stared at me in the bright starlight.
“What can you do? Abigail, I'm surprised to hear that from you. You seem to have some pull with TAU. I was hoping I could talk you into getting the Lieutenant out of here and putting a decent officer in charge."
“Now it's my turn to say I'm surprised to hear that from you.” I was wide awake now. My opinion of Jody took a nosedive. “You're not seriously suggesting a coup, are you? If you are, count me out. I don't like Lieutenant Posen. He's an effete ass who has a low opinion of women, little ability to handle those under his command, and is castrated by his fear of NATech. But he is my commanding officer, and I will obey his orders and, if necessary, die for him.” I took a step back. “I'll not repeat what you said to anyone, but I don't think I want to work with you anymore, Sergeant. Good-night.” I turned to leave.
Shards [Book Three] Page 5