by Kal Spriggs
They'd taken my watch with the rest of my possessions, so I had no idea how long I'd slept. I did know that my entire body ached and that my head felt almost disconnected. The screaming of our drill instructors and the yowling alarm klaxon had me up out of my bunk before I was really awake. Sashi had claimed the bottom bunk, which meant I basically dropped the two meters to the floor and stumbled into my gear as someone pounded on our doorframe.
I was out in the hallway before I had really blinked the sleep out of my eyes. I found a new pair of Cadet Instructors, both of whom seemed even more vile than Paulos and Salter. One of my section had stumbled out with his shorts on backwards and after they finished alternating screaming and ridiculing, we then spent the next fifteen minutes in new exercises for allowing one of our section to so embarrass us.
After that, they began the room inspections. They started at the far end. The shouting, screaming, and items being tossed into the hallway suggested that most of our section had not prepared like Sashi and myself. The worst, it seemed was when they got midway down the corridor. “Candidate Summers,” Cadet Instructor Marris snarled, “Your side of the room is an absolutely disgusting pigsty. Not only is your gear not properly stowed, it is completely out of regulation. In addition, there are food crumbs all over your bunk. Do you care to explain?”
I felt my stomach drop as Candidate Summers started to respond, “Uh, I just...”
“Candidate, before you continue, let me interject,” the Cadet's voice dropped to an almost conversational level, which was clearly audible as all of us held our breaths. I remembered the lecture we had received about food. It wasn't allowed. Extra food wasn't allowed, stealing food from the chow hall wasn't allowed, and eating anything else was strictly forbidden. They hadn't explained why, just that it was, and since they made such a big deal out of it already, we were all pretty certain that Summers was about to get us all in a lot of trouble.
“First,” Cadet Marris said, his voice still frighteningly calm, “As you have been told, you have three appropriate responses, 'yes', 'no' and 'no excuse' for just about any question you are asked unless it is for specific information. Second, you are to sandwich every response with the position or title of the person you are speaking with. Lastly, you are to always identify yourself in any communication. I will now give you a moment to compose yourself before I ask you that question once more.” Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Cadet Marris turn to Summer's roommate, Karmazin. His voice raised in pitch, “Candidate Karmazin. Your side of the room is impeccable. Your bunk is properly made, your possessions are properly stowed. Your room is inspection-ready... clearly you understood the importance of being squared away.” His voice rose to a crescendo, “Why, then is your roommate such a soup sandwich?”
I heard Karmazin answer in a crisp voice, “Sir, Candidate Karmazin, no excuse, sir.”
There was a long pause. Part of me had almost wished the arrogant boy would have tried to make some excuse. On some level, I knew it wasn't his fault. I'd only cleaned my side of the room because I'd seen Sashi do hers. From what little I'd seen of Summers, he was barely hanging in, as it was. “You're right, there is no excuse,” Cadet Instructor Marris snarled. His voice rose, “Listen up, all of you!” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him spin in a circle as he looked at all of us, “Eyes centered on me.” We all turned our heads and I noticed that Cadet Marris was a stocky and dark-skinned. Another second wave, I thought, like Sashi. His expression was stern, not the scowl I'd grown used to from the others, but stern, almost calm.
“Every one of you candidates on this hall will depend upon one another to get through this. Each of you has skills that are essential to completing this course. The only way that you will complete it is if you work together. If you don't, you'll wash out of this and you can try again next year... if you can get the waivers signed... or seek employment elsewhere, assuming anyone will take you.” He swept his gaze across us all and I couldn't help but shiver as I thought about the consequences of 'washing out'. I'd be out, yes, but I could lose my internship, I would have to face my mother and father and Black Mesa Outpost and even the Admiral and admit that I had failed.
For whatever reason, that last made my face flush. I couldn't picture the Admiral gloating about my failure or even commenting negatively, not if I had done my best. Yet, I knew she would have a look of disappointment on her face. Mom would be upset, Dad would just shrug and be there to support me... I thought. I could take that, yet even imagining the slight look of disappointment from the Admiral gave me a brief moment of panic.
“Eyes front, candidates,” Marris snapped. I returned to the position of attention, my eyes locked on the wall, bulkhead as they were calling it, across from me. A moment later, out of the corner of my eye I saw one mattress and then a second one sail out into the hallway, followed by the sound of crashing as furniture was overturned and shouting from the Cadet Instructors.
It went quiet after that, so quiet that I could hear the breathing of Sashi at attention a couple meters away. I heard the crisp boot steps in the hall as Cadet Instructor Marris stepped out of the room. “Now, Candidate Karmazin and Candidate Summers, congratulations, you are both matching. Your room is terrible. That's a failure for this inspection.”
The inspection continued. My feet and back hurt from standing at attention. No one else received Cadet Instructor Marris's unique treatment, but no one else passed. Finally, he reached the end of the hall and my room.
He paused as he looked between Sashi and I, “Candidate Armstrong and Candidate Drien...” There was something in his voice, almost shock. I wasn't sure why. He stepped inside and I could hear his footsteps as he walked around. I could hear him open several drawers. After a moment, I heard his footsteps as he came out. He turned and looked between us again, “Candidates Armstrong and Drien, you passed the inspection.”
He raised his voice, “Alright, Candidates, time for your morning physical training, you have thirty seconds to get changed, ready, move!”
***
I leaned against the mop as I pushed the mop bucket back towards the closet at the end of the hall. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, since one of the wheels was jammed at a weird angle and the other three wheels wobbled and threatened to spill five gallons of dirty brown water across the freshly cleaned floor.
We'd finished our latest round of exercise, come back, and had a bare sixty seconds to shower. I’d stumbled out with the other girls, soap still in my hair and itching on my skin. For once, I envied the boys, with their shaved heads. Not that I would dare do that, I already hated how short my hair was now. At least Sashi had told me that we’d be allowed to grow our hair out over the rest of our time here.
Cadet Marris had then instructed us on how to to clean the heads, which was apparently what these mental cases called showers and bathrooms. The really disturbing part had not been the detailed lesson on how to clean every surface, it had been the cautionary explanation about what chemicals not to mix and the horrid details he shared about the toxic fumes we could produce if we weren’t careful… and exactly what those would do to us.
Since Sashi and I were two of the six girls in the section, we had considerably more to clean than the guys. It had given me some time to take the measure of the other girls, and I'd come away very happy to have Sashi as my roommate.
Grainger and Evans, the roommates next to us, were alright, but neither of them seemed to have the same spark of intelligence and humor as Sashi. They just did the job and didn't make eye contact. Grainger was tall, taller even than my mother, I think, and with the same blonde hair as me, just far more closely cut. Evans was stocky and darker, another Second Wave like Sashi or Cadet Marris. Takenata was the fifth girl, she was shorter even than me, thin and birdlike, and I remembered her from the SCIM. While the others didn't even make eye contact, she actively avoided looking in anyone's direction. She seemed the most out of place, even more than me. Lastly, of course, there was her roommate: Rakewood.
Rakewood was tall, with dark hair and blue eyes. She didn't fit one of the stereotypical waves. Even in the baggy shirt and shorts, she had unmistakable curves and beauty and an attitude to show that she knew it. I hated her as soon as she spoke. She also seemed to take charge of the cleaning immediately... and in such a way that she had the easy task of cleaning the mirrors while I, somehow, ended up scrubbing the toilets. When I commented on it, somehow she worked it so that I was the one wheeling the mop bucket with its unsteady wheels down the length of the hallway. Everyone else, of course, had the rest of the time back in their rooms to try to clean them to inspection standards.
As I wheeled the mop bucket I swallowed some curses as it tried to first go sideways and then turn over. Still, I had almost reached the closet when I noticed the person ahead of me. I pursed my lips on another curse as I saw Karmazin ahead of me at the closet. He was just pushing his bucket up, so I had no way to try to squeeze around him or past.
I waited as he pulled out the mop and began to rinse the mop head in the sink. He's doing that on purpose, I thought darkly, taking his time because I'm behind him. He didn't even look over and acknowledge me, just continued his methodical work.
I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. As I did so, I realized I could hear talking. “...got to be kidding me, Hilton. I know you did the roommates alphabetically, but did you actually think before you finalized them?” We were at the end of the hallway, just around the corner from where the Cadet Instructors seemed to materialize, I realized. That probably meant they had an office or something there.
“You can't talk to me like that, Marris,” a nasal man's voice answered. “I don't see what the big issue is. They seem a good match, anyway, they passed their inspection, right?”
“Good match... are you seriously that stupid?” Marris said, his voice sharp. “How have you even passed your history classes?”
“He's not a military history buff like you,” I almost didn't recognize Salter's voice. The woman's deep and hoarse bellow was softened. She actually sounded like a real girl. “But he should still have realized the issue,” her voice went harsh. “I can't believe we've got Admiral Victoria Armstrong's granddaughter in the same section, much less the same room as Admiral Toshi Drien's granddaughter.”
I glanced up at Karmazin, who had finished rinsing his mop and was levering his bucket into the sink, dumping the dirty water slowly, so as not to splash. I wondered if he was hearing this... and I wondered what it meant.
“What?” Hilton asked. “They're both war heroes, I don't see why there's a problem.” His nasal voice had a tone of exasperation.
“You seriously...” Marris seemed at a loss for words.
“Look,” Salter said. “It's too late to do anything about it. If we pull either of them out of that room, the rest of the candidates will wonder what happened. That will poison this section, just as surely as playing favorites with either of them might.”
“So, what, we leave those two in the same room?” Marris asked. “What if the Admiral notices? For that matter, what if they kill each other?”
“I doubt the Admiral missed it,” Salter said dryly. “Don't forget, this is as much training for us as it is for them. She's probably evaluating how we manage it.”
“I still don't see why this is more of an issue than the Karmazin kid,” Hilton said, his nasal tone a whine once more. “He's Leo Champion's kid, half the candidates will probably suck up to him as soon as they realize how loaded he is.”
“Illegitimate son,” Salter corrected. “And if we see any of that kind of attitude, we step on it. For that matter, if I see any of our Instructors showing favoritism to him or Candidates Drien or Armstrong I'll step on them... and that includes you, Hilton.”
Marris snorted, “Right, as if anyone who has met her would think sucking up to her granddaughter would get them anywhere with the Admiral.”
I saw Karmazin had paused, his head cocked. He glanced over his shoulder and saw me and gave me a slight nod and moved out of the way. I grunted and shoved the bucket forward and pulled the mop out of the bucket. I lost track of the conversation in the squeak of the bucket and the sound of the faucet. Still I dumped the water and rinsed the mop quickly and stepped into the hallway in time to catch a bit more of the conversation.
“So... that leaves us with picking the candidate squad leaders, right?” Salter asked.
“You've got my choices,” Hilton's nasal voice spoke. “Rakewood, Dawson, and Drien.”
“Yeah, I can't guess why you went with Rakewood,” Salter said, “because she's a terrible choice. I' know her type, and until she gets some experience at the bottom of the stack, she's going to be an insufferable bitch.” The tone of her voice suggested that she had the same impression that I did of Rakewood. I felt a sudden warm glow towards the otherwise evil woman, apparently we agreed on one thing at least. Maybe she wasn't all that bad. “Dawson's a okay choice, he's solid, but I don't know if he can manage the others, he's smart and focused, but this is the Sand Dragons, not the Ogres or the Reavers. There's a more interesting dynamic here, I think.”
“Agreed, Rakewood's a terrible choice,” Marris said. “And I don't think that Dawson could keep these individuals,” he said the word almost like a curse, “together moving in the right direction. Salter's right. Drien's a good choice, she's very intuitive, and she’s clearly prepared herself well. I think Karmazin is a better choice than Dawson. He's smart and it will force him to integrate and work with the others, assuming he hasn't already taken my lesson to heart.” I glanced over my shoulder at where Karmazin was still putting his mop up. He saw my look and gave a slight shrug.
A moment later, I heard Salter chuckle, “Yeah, that's a good idea. Probably the best way to get him to reach his full potential. Of course, he'll hate us for it. I hated my instructors when they did it to me.”
“That still leaves the third squad leader position open, and you've both shot down my suggestions,” Hilton whined.
I heard a dry chuckle from a voice I didn't recognize, “Well, we've already stepped in it thanks to Hilton here. I say we might as well go whole hog.”
“What do you mean?” Salter asked.
“Well, Candidate Armstrong's behind the power curve as far as her military knowledge and bearing, I think we can all see that,” the dry voice said. My stomach seemed to drop down to my knees. They thought I was worse than the others. “But her file shows a lot of potential... put her in as third squad leader. She will have to bring herself up to level... either that or she'll crack, realize this isn't for her, and drop out. If nothing else, no one can accuse us of favoritism.” I felt my stomach sink even further. That kind of responsibility was just what I didn't want. I wanted to keep my head down, I just wanted to make it through all this... and they expected me to fail.
“Right...” I could almost see Marris roll his eyes, “You want to make a Drien, an Armstrong, and a Champion our three squad leaders? You do know that we could very well end up with a war in this section, right?” I could understand why they thought I might not get along with Karmazin, he was an arrogant know-it-all. I glanced over at him and he quirked an eyebrow at me, as if he didn't know why I might be angry with him. That just made me want to punch him.
“Eh, personally I don't think Armstrong will last a week,” Hilton whined, “But better to wash her out quickly, I'm with Mac.” I felt a spike of anger at how casually he had dismissed me. I didn't want to be here, but with how he spoke, clearly some of the Cadets didn't feel I should be here.
“He's got a point,” Salter said. “And honestly, I can't believe how poorly she's performed so far. I guess the rumors about the Admiral's family are true.”
“Which doesn't answer how she ended up here, with no training and prep,” Marris said. “But if anything will shape her up... or wash her out, I agree squad leader time would do it. Now, our Candidates' time is winding to a close. Just about time to do the inspections.”
I strai
ghtened up. A glance at Karmazin showed that he had finished pretending to straighten the cleaning supplies on the shelf. He stepped out and gestured at me to lead the way. I smothered a surge of gratitude at that. He knows as well as I do that they were talking about me more than him, I thought, they'll suspect us both of eavesdropping, but probably with worse consequences for me.
I hurried out and scurried down the hallway as quickly and quietly as I could. I couldn't miss the sounds from the rooms I passed of my fellow candidates hurrying to clean what they could in their rooms. I passed Karmazin's room and saw that his roommate, Summers, was seated at his chair, half in a doze, propped up behind the end of the bunks. Behind me, I heard Karmazin step into the room, and then a muffled thud that sounded very much like a chair with someone sleeping in it tipping over and hitting the floor. The squawk of surprise from Summers came a moment later.
I had to smother a smile at that... Maybe Karmazin wasn't that bad. It only provided a minor distraction from my thoughts, though. The Cadet Instructors thought I was weak. They thought I would wash out. Worse, they seemed to think that if that was the case, they should make sure I did. I didn't know what responsibilities they'd give me as a squad leader, but I didn't want those on top of what everything else. I don't even want to be here, I thought angrily. Yet, it seemed that they didn't want me here either... and that made me angry. Who were they to judge me? They didn't have the slightest clue why I was here... and they wanted to wash me out and to flush my dreams down the toilet as a consequence.
I stepped into my room and looked over at Sashi, who was polishing her boots. She looked up, “Took you long enough to drop off a mop.” I could hear a tone of derision in her voice, as if she thought I'd been sleeping in the supply locker or something.
I closed my mouth on the words I'd planned to say. She saw me the same way as the Cadet Instructors, I realized. She saw me as a failure... and suddenly the way she had stood by Rakewood when we were cleaning took on a new light. I thought back to the words by Marris, about how he halfway expected us to kill one another. I was in the dark about why, but Sashi said she had prepared her whole life for this. If there was some reason for us to hate one another, something about our family's past, then she would know.