by MK Clark
“Fine,” Don replied, passing a hand over his face to chase away dark shadows that lurked in his dreams. “Just a little jumpy, that’s all. What’s up?”
“That Suit who was with you earlier, he said it’s time to go.”
Don sat up slowly. The others were all standing and stretching. “Thanks,” Don mumbled, and rubbed his face with his hands.
A few minutes later, they were piling into the back of a black van, then buckling themselves in as the armored doors slammed shut behind them. Nathan sat beside the doors, checking the knives on his arms. Don caught a glimpse of a menacing blade before it disappeared beneath the black trench coat sleeve, and he shivered.
Nathan instructed them on their course of action, should a problem occur. They were not to hesitate to use the guns on the racks behind them. Then he pulled a small bag from his pocket and passed it to the Black Knight beside him. “Take one and pass it down,” he told them. “These are tracking beacons, in case we are separated. Please strap them to your wrists.”
“Do you expect something to happen?” John asked, astonished at his seriousness.
Nathan stared at him levelly. “I don’t expect anything to happen, but I am prepared for everything to go wrong.” With that, he pushed a pair of dark glasses on his face and pressed an almost invisible button on the side. “Let’s go,” he spoke to the air, and the van jerked forward.
Despite the Suit’s concerns, the hour-long drive was peaceful and uninterrupted, with only the slightest discomfort from the unfamiliar presence of Nathan. They spoke little during this time, most of them taking the opportunity to doze once more.
As they clambered from the back of the van, they shaded their eyes from the sun, and Don silently thanked the Suits for his warm clothes. Waiting for them, with hands clasped behind their backs, were Sergeant Cohan and the Black Knights’ instructor, Sergeant Driscol, as well as a stretcher and three medical personnel.
The medics converged on Tony, still sitting in the van as he’d been instructed. Before Sergeant Cohan could say anything to the rest of them, Nathan walked up to the two men and began to speak.
Lee appeared from around the side of the van, helmet tucked under his arm. He held out a bag and pointed at their wrists. “If you’d be so kind, I’ll take those back now.” He circled the group, coming to Don last. He paused and dropped the bag into a deep pocket. “If you ever figure out an answer to that question, look me up.” He winked at Don and then joined Nathan.
Before Don could say anything, Lee pulled the helmet over his head and jumped on his speeder. He waited long enough for Nathan to mount up behind him and then took off through the gate. The van followed moments later.
As one, the boys turned toward the two sergeants and formed a weary line. The two men didn’t speak for a long moment, choosing first to simply study their young charges.
“Every one of you is confined to the infirmary until further notice.” Sergeant Driscol began. “We have been informed that your clothes were burned, since they weren’t worth saving. Therefore, new ones will be sent to you, and we expect you to be appropriately dressed the next time we see you.”
They stayed put, waiting for a dismissal, their breath showing white in the air as the only visible movement. Sergeant Cohan regarded them for a few seconds longer before grunting, “You pass. Dismissed.”
They hesitated for a moment and then turned and trooped toward the infirmary.
“We passed?”
“What did we pass?” Someone bumped Don’s arm in question.
“I dunno,” he replied, mind moving in slow motion, still stuck on what Lee had said to him minutes before.
“He must mean the exercise,” Zeik said, and the conversation moved on.
“Exercise? Oh, right…”
“But how did we pass? We didn’t make it back.”
Don ignored them. Why would Lee have brought that up again? Who was he? Why did he keep saying those things? It made him uneasy, as if someone were watching him. As if someone had plans for him.
Heads turned as the infirmary door opened and the six tattered boys filed through. Don could see two others already in the room, besides Tony. He didn’t dwell on them because sleep overcame him moments after his head touched one of the beds.
Hours? Days? Don wasn’t sure how long he slept. He vaguely remembered Grandfather bringing their new uniforms. He told them Guy had been transferred to another hospital and wouldn’t be returning. Then the boys slept some more.
A week later, Don squinted up at the winter sky. It was clear blue, with the sun shining brightly on the cold, hard ground. Tyson sighed heavily beside him, hands stuck rebelliously in the pockets of his jacket.
“What’s on your mind?” Don asked. They were walking leisurely to the mess hall. The sun was just warm enough to keep them from hurrying.
“I’m resigning myself to the fact that this trip is going to be an absolute bore without you.”
Don chuckled quietly, still looking at the sky. “But I heard you’re going to be working with girls.”
“That’s why I didn’t say it was going to be a waste of my time,” Tyson countered. “Plus, there’s only so much trouble you can get into with girls, and the consequences for those are harsh if you get caught.”
“Then what’s the problem? Isn’t trouble your specialty? Lots of risk, small chance of success…” Tyson pushed him, and Don grinned wickedly, draping an arm across Tyson’s shoulders. “C’mon, now! It can’t be that bad, two weeks of living in close proximity to a bunch of girls.”
Tyson rolled his eyes. “You do realize that women who volunteer for the military are genetically altered to be displeasing to the eye, dull, and completely unapproachable?”
“You’re hopeless.”
They walked in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of another company singing out as they ran past. Don heard Tyson mutter under his breath and then continued their conversation. “You should be glad to get out of here for a few weeks. They won’t let Zeik, John, and Luke go, and they haven’t even released that other Black Knight or Tony from the infirmary yet. You could be cooped up here like them.”
Tyson eyed him suspiciously. “You say that like they’re not keeping you here.”
Don laughed. “Are you kidding me? It doesn’t matter where you guys go, or who’s going. They’re never letting me out of this camp again. I cause too much trouble.”
“Fact.”
“I can’t help that I’m more of a nuisance than you. You’ll just have to try harder.”
Tyson ducked away from Don. “Get off me! Is this how you treat your teacher?”
“Teacher?”
“Yeah.” Tyson tilted his head, looking down his nose at Don imperiously. “I taught you everything you know.”
Don shook his head, smiling. “But not everything you know, right?” Don grabbed the door to the mess hall, stepping out of the way and bowing. “Forgive me, master. How could I forget?”
“Shut up, you.”
“O’Hara!” Don turned to see a boy jogging toward the mess hall. He stopped beside them, taking a few breaths before speaking. “The commander has requested your presence.”
Tyson frowned. “The commander?”
The boy shrugged.
“Don’t look for answers here. He certainly didn’t tell me anything.”
“Hey, shut the door!” a voice called from inside. “You’re letting all the heat out!”
“Keep talking!” Tyson shouted. “It’ll warm up real quick.”
Someone said something profane, and Don pushed Tyson into the building. “Just go. It’ll be fine.” He turned to the other boy. “Thanks, I’m going now.” The boy nodded and slipped into the mess hall before the door slid shut.
“Trainee O’Hara reporting, sir.”
The commander sighed and rubbed the scar on his face. “At ease. This is your meeting, son. Proceed.”
Don nodded, hands clasped behind his back. “Thank you, sir. W
ith your permission, I’d like authorization to use a wave. I wish to speak with General O’Hara.”
The commander’s good eye narrowed slightly, hands coming together in front of his face. “We have means of communication for discussions between father and son.”
“I understand that, sir.” Don’s eyes were hard as he met the commander’s gaze. “I wish to speak with General O’Hara immediately, sir, not my father.”
“Denied.” The commander sat back in his chair. “The general is far too busy to speak with a trainee of no consequence.”
“Yes, sir,” Don said and clenched his jaw in frustration, waiting to be dismissed while the commander rifled around in one of his desk drawers.
“However,” the commander continued, and held out a key card to Don, “the general may wish to speak with his son, and that he does have time for.”
Don took a startled step forward, taking the key card.
“Don’t screw this up, kid.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Don pocketed the card, gave the man a quick salute, and left. This was it, then. Everything was falling into place as it should. He was finally doing the right thing. That, he was sure of.
“So...” Tyson’s voice drawled from behind him. Don turned and saw his friend leaning against the outside of the building. “What’s going on?”
Don shook his head. “Nothing, really. The commander just had a few questions for me.”
“That’s a load of crap,” Tyson spat. “I followed you and spoke to the secretary. He told me you asked to see him.”
“Fine,” he answered indifferently. “I wanted to speak with the general.”
“About what?”
“Stuff!” Don snapped. “Am I not allowed to speak with my own father?”
Tyson scoffed and pushed off the wall, coming to stand before him. “Everyone knows you hate your father, and if that was it, you’d write a letter like the rest of us.”
Don clenched his teeth together and looked away. Tyson would never understand. It’s why he’d kept this to himself. He didn’t want to be dissuaded. He was doing the right thing, and with any luck, no one would know until they got back from their little trip.
Tyson grabbed Don’s arm and pulled him up short. “Ever since the seven of you got back, you’ve been acting weird. You’re up to something, probably some self-righteous plan for redemption. Well, news flash, Don! You don’t need redemption for anything.” His hand tightened on Don’s arm. “Whatever you’ve been telling yourself up there in that thick head of yours, you’re wrong! You’re wrong, Don.”
“I have to go,” Don whispered, still avoiding Tyson’s eyes.
“No, you don’t. We don’t have anywhere to be for another few hours.”
“No,” Don said. “You don’t get it. I have to go. I have to leave.”
Tyson dropped his hand. “What do you mean?”
“People get hurt because of me, because of who I am. I can’t change that, but I can take myself away. If I get out of the picture, then—”
“Then what?” Anger and confusion twisted across Tyson’s face. “Then everybody lives happily ever after? Nobody dies ever again? Nobody gets hurt? What world do you live in? There’s a war going on, if you hadn’t heard, and your insignificant life isn’t going to change who lives and who dies.”
Don lifted his head to face Tyson. “But at least it won’t be because of me.”
Tyson grabbed the front of Don’s jacket and shoved him into the building. “An’ what about you? You’re just going to hole up somewhere and let the world pass you by because you’re afraid someone might get hurt?”
Don didn’t answer.
“People are going to die, period. People you care about are going to get hurt. Welcome to the real world. Hiding from that isn’t going to solve anything!”
“I’m not hiding!” Don snarled. “I’m going to Commander’s School.”
“You are hiding!” Tyson growled back. “You blame yourself, and you don’t want to feel that! You’re afraid to face it. Well, guess what!” he shouted. “You’re not the only one! The rest of us have just realized that throwing away our dreams because we’re afraid of what we might have to face isn’t going to change anything.”
Don shoved Tyson out of the way. He felt sick. “I’m not hiding!”
“Then why are you going?” Tyson called after him.
Don stopped in his tracks. “You are learning to fight to protect people. I am leaving for the same reason.” He heard the crunch of gravel beneath Tyson’s boots, and he continued. “I betrayed my friends by putting them in avoidable danger.”
Tyson turned Don to face him, hand gripping his shoulder. “You betray your comrades by not having faith in them.” Tyson searched his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? You are choosing a life separated from everyone.” He paused for a moment. “Is it really worth the sacrifice?
“Yes,” Don breathed. “If it means my friends are safe from me.”
“You’re a fool, Don O’Hara.”
Chapter 11.5
November 22, 625 T.A.
“It’s come to my attention that you’ve put in a request for a shuttle transfer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pray tell, why?”
“It’s for the boy, sir. He was given permission to spend six months on Earth in Basic Training. It was thought that he would benefit from the experience, but in light of recent events, he agrees that it is time for him to join his classmates at Commander’s School.”
“I see.”
“Is there a problem, sir?”
“As you know, it takes a large sum of money to send a shuttle that far from Earth. For one boy—”
“Are you suggesting, sir, that he is no longer of importance?”
“He always was a bit young.”
“Sir?”
“Major, things have changed in five months.”
“I don’t quite understand, sir. You’ve had your eye on him for years. Since—”
“Let me be frank. O’Hara never had any desire to be in that school. He would have struggled to keep up with the others simply because of his lack of interest, and now he’s five months behind.”
“Has it already been decided, then?”
“We have reviewed O’Hara’s file and his potential, and we have deemed him unnecessary for Commander’s School.”
“Unnecessary?
“What about me? If the boy is no longer necessary, then what about my sacrifice? What about my—?”
“Forgive me; my phrasing was harsh. He still has a part to play. We have not released him completely. However, we have decided to take a hands-off approach with the boy, as you originally suggested. We are certain that, with his talent, he will rise very quickly through the ranks. We all know he has no intention of living a quiet life.”
“Who will take his place at the school?”
“Let’s just say we uncovered a fine diamond the day O’Hara played us for the fool.”
“The Thompson kid?
“Your request for a shuttle has been denied, major. Trainee O’Hara may do as he wishes. If you are concerned for his safety, get him a bodyguard. That is all.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Chapter 12
November 24, 625 T.A.
“Denied?”
“That’s right.”
Don stared at the screen in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”
General O’Hara sighed. “You no longer have a place reserved at Maynard’s school. Therefore, you have no reason to request shuttle transport before the end of the year.”
Don opened his mouth and then closed it again.
“Shocking, isn’t it?” his father remarked. “But that’s how the world works. I should have followed my instincts and pulled you out that first day.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Don asked helplessly.
“You will finish the year at Basic Training,” his
father replied, “like you always wanted, learning as much as you can. I understand your concerns about staying. I’ve been trying to get you to understand for years, but this is the only choice open to you right now.”
“But, Da…,” he protested.
His father merely shook his head. “Don’t throw this chance away, son.”
Don breathed in deeply as he lay across his bunk, pulling himself out of memories from two weeks ago. He’d gotten used to an empty barracks, and almost regretted that everyone would soon be back. Don had spent what seemed to him a large amount of his time doing whatever he wanted. The administration had provided classes for Don and the others to attend during the absence of their comrades, but the classes were few and far between.
Although many instructors had gone with their companies, their weapons instructor had not. Otorru’s class had become very interesting. The man seemed to relax a bit around the few boys who remained. They’d been at the firing range every day, practicing a wide variety of weapons. He spent half a week perfecting their aim with a LA-SMAW3, a hand-held small missile launcher.
Their military tactics instructor, on the other hand, had remained as stiff and uninteresting as ever. It was the same boring class, but with no one to hide behind and doze the hour away. They had substitutes for some of their other classes, and a specialist none of them recognized had taken over PT in Sergeant Cohan’s absence.
Professor God, being a civilian, had taken these two weeks as vacation time. He had returned from his home two days prior, whereupon he immediately visited Don.
“You look better,” he said, standing beside a startled Don.
Don had, until that moment, been napping against a tree. He nodded a little uncertainly, not sure what he should expect.
“I’d ask how you were doing,” the man said, “but I know what you would say, and I’m not interested in hearing that. I know perfectly well you’re not fine as you would have me to believe.”
Don stared, at a loss for words.
“You don’t have to answer me. Just know that when you wake up at night to escape your dreams, life is not as hopeless as it seems, nor as painful. There are miracles and happiness in it, as well.” He turned to go, then paused. “Oh, and your father wasn’t sure if he was clear enough when he talked to you. He wanted to let you know that now is the time to live your life as you see fit and to fulfill your dreams while you can.”