by Kal Spriggs
“You said that you could make sure I was a squad leader,” Rakewood hissed.
“You said you would make that Armstrong bitch quit, but she's still here,” Hilton answered. “And trust me, as soon as you can run her out, I'll get you in her slot.”
I felt myself flush with anger. Those bastards, I thought. Bad enough that Rakewood had continued to be a bitch to me, but apparently Hilton was working with her. Why, though, would the two of them work together?
“It's just so hard,” Rakewood whined, “and I don't get to spend time with you, other than when I can sneak away...”
Ew, I thought, gross.
I heard what sounded like kissing and my flush deepened. I glanced at Karmazin and I saw him flush as well and he didn't meet my eyes. Apparently he hadn't expected that either.
“Remember,” Hilton said, “Tell the story right. It was Salter who sent you onto the course, you remember hearing me warn her that we hadn't prepared you all.”
“Yeah,” Rakewood said, somewhat breathlessly.
My eyes widened as I realized what that was about. The investigation. Hilton and Rakewood were trying to place the blame on Salter. Karmazin's face darkened with anger as he made the connection too.
“We have to stop them,” I said in a low voice.
He nodded.
***
I felt my stomach clench as Cadet Instructor Ingvald called me out and then led me down the hall. The past day I had been trying to figure out how to tell someone what Karmazin and I had overheard. Things had been made more difficult, though, by Rakewood. The tall, beautiful girl had upgraded her tactics. She had already “accidentally” ran into me twice, once nearly knocking me down the stairs. Besides that she had sabotaged her roommate, Takenata, and I had even caught her dragging her feet on exercises in order to get our squad additional punishments.
I just hoped that the Cadet Instructors hadn't decided that I was to blame. I bit my lip as I realized that they might be about to take my squad away from me. It wasn't my fault, Rakewood was trying to run me out, one way or another. I can't have squad leader taken away from me because I got stabbed in back, I thought.
The sudden realization that I actually cared about the squad leader position made me freeze in my tracks. What was wrong with me? I didn't even want to be here, why should I care about some silly ranking that didn't mean anything?
Yet my competitive nature had stepped in... and I realized that I wanted to do a good job. The others in my squad had begun to look at me with something other than pity... they had started to listen to me. I was accomplishing something... and Rakewood was trying to take that away from me.
I shook those thoughts off as I realized that Ingvald had stopped in front of a door. She knocked sharply and then announced, “Candidate Instructor Ingvald and Candidate Armstrong reporting.”
Through the metal door I heard a muffled, “Enter.”
Ingvald opened the door and gestured to me to enter. I stepped in and snapped to attention as I saw the officer seated behind a desk. “Ma'am,” I said, “Candidate Armstrong reporting, ma'am.” She was an actual officer, not just a cadet. She was a stocky woman, even seated I could tell that she must be even shorter than me. She had the look of a bulldog, with a square jaw and tiny, beady eyes. Her name tag read “Harder” and her rank was Lieutenant.
I didn't know what this was about, but I felt my stomach twist in tension
“Candidate,” the Lieutenant said, “I am conducting an investigation into the injury of Candidate Peterson. I have already conducted an interview of the main witnesses, but since you were present, I will have some simple questions for you to answer.” She had a sharp, abrasive voice and her tone suggested that she didn't imagine I would have anything to contribute. I had to step on my anger to keep my mouth shut.
“At any time did you see anyone push Candidate Peterson?”
“Ma'am, no ma'am,” I said. I wondered just how to broach what I had overheard. Surely she would believe me, particularly with Karmazin as another witness.
“Did any Cadet Instructors imply that they intended to harm Candidate Peterson?” Lieutenant Harder asked.
I shook my head, “Ma'am, no, ma'am.” Threaten, bluster and yell at us, yes, but not actually hurt one of us. It was a weird mental thought... but I realized that I trusted the Cadet Instructors... at least most of them. They treated us like garbage. It didn't make sense, but they also had all shown brief moments of humanity, taking time to teach us and give us advice.
“Before Cadet Instructor Salter ordered you onto the obstacle course, did she provide full instruction on the method of conducting the course?”
I blinked at the Lieutenant. “Ma'am,” I said, “Cadet Instructor Salter did not order us onto the course. It was Cadet Instructor Hilton. And no, we weren't given instruction, ma'am.”
“A yes or no would be appropriate, Candidate,” Lieutenant Harder said. “And I have two witness statements that affirm that Cadet Instructor Salter was the one to order you to begin the course. Clearly you are mistaken.” She waved her hand, “I'm done here, Cadet Instructor Ingvald, take the candidate back to her section.
I saw Ingvald hesitate, “Ma'am, Candidate Armstrong may not have stated it in the most diplomatic manner, but I don't think she's mistaken.”
The Lieutenant's eyes narrowed, “Cadet,” she said, “I've already interviewed Candidate Rakewood, who was adamant that Candidate Instructor Salter ordered them to begin the course. I also have a statement from Cadet Instructor Hilton, written directly after the incident, where he stated the same thing. Are you saying that a Candidate and a Cadet Instructor lied?” I felt my stomach sink even lower at her words. Surely Ingvald wasn't going to stand up for me, not to draw the ire of an actual officer.
Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Ingvald's back straighten. “Ma'am, I believe that Candidate Armstrong is saying what she saw. I don't think her word should be discounted out of hand.”
Lieutenant Harder's eyes narrowed and she sat back. “Very well.” Her beady eyes turned to me, “Candidate Armstrong, do you have an explanation for how your story differs from that of two other people?”
I took a deep breath, “Ma'am, yesterday on my way back from the range with Candidate Karmazin down on the lower tunnels, we overheard a conversation between Candidate Rakewood and Cadet Instructor Hilton through an air vent up to the main level. They were discussing, in private, what to say if Rakewood was interviewed.”
Cadet Instructor Ingvald looked at me sharply, “Candidates are not supposed to be in private with Cadet Instructors.”
I looked down at my feet, “Ma'am, I don't know exactly why they were together,” I felt myself flush as I remembered the sounds of the two kissing, “but I do know that Karmazin and I both heard them, and Cadet Instructor Hilton told Rakewood what to say.”
“I see,” Lieutenant Harder said. “I'm impressed that you came forward. Something like that could easily make you a pariah if you weren't believed.” Her gaze went to Ingvald, “Do you think she is telling the truth?”
Ingvald didn't look at me, “Ma'am, I think she's telling exactly what she believes she overheard. However, Hilton's room is located over in section five, so I don't think it is possible for them to have heard Hilton and Rakewood talking in private.”
I felt my face pale. I couldn't have been mistaken. I recognized both their voices... hadn't I?
“In fact,” Lieutenant Harder said, “She did report fairly accurately what she overheard. I've played that same recording in five locations and I know it was overheard by seven candidates. Only three, so far, have come forward. Karmazin, Takenata, and yourself.”
My eyes went wide as I realized what that meant, “You set me up!”
Harder's eyes went narrow, “That would be: 'Ma'am, you set me up, ma'am.”
I snapped my mouth closed on a retort. I did not want to erase the good grace I had gained by speaking up. Though I didn't know the purpose of this entire exercise, I
had the feeling that I wasn't the only one being tested.
“Cadet Instructor Ingvald, an important part of leadership is sticking up for those under your authority. You've had only a few days with Candidate Armstrong, but you made a judgement call based upon your gut instincts. That's good,” Lieutenant Harder said. “That's what I wanted to see. Candidate Armstrong, you just earned yourself five points for coming forward with that information.”
She looked between us, “Seldom is it easy to do the right thing. Sometimes you won't be rewarded for it... sometimes, in fact, you'll be punished for it. But a vital part of your development is determining what is right and doing it, often in even more murky conditions than the current ones.” Lieutenant Harder gave us a nod, “That's all, any questions?”
“Ma'am,” I asked, “what will happen to Candidate Rakewood and Cadet Instructor Hilton?”
The pleasant expression on her face disappeared. “That will be determined by a review board after I complete my investigation.” Her stern frown eased slightly, “They'll both receive some lenience due to circumstances, but both of them will receive punishment.”
She looked at us both for a moment, letting the ominous words sink in. “You are dismissed.”
***
Chapter Twelve: Quiet Time
The training hadn't slowed down at all, but the week finally started to come to a close. I'd spoken more to our Cadet Instructors than I had with Sashi. She had ceased to help me, but I had gained enough of a grasp of things that I managed both my own work and the duties of squad leader, if only barely.
Saturday evening they issued us gear for the Grinder. To my surprise, everything was custom fitted for me and not only was it a comfortable fit, but also the body armor, helmet and all the rest were actually relatively lightweight. I had expected cast-offs or surplus gear. Takenata, who had become something of an assistant squad leader to me, saw my surprise. “The Academy has a manufacturing facility, they can spin up the body armor and equipment for a cadet or candidate in only a few minutes and break them down for those who fail out and reuse the materials.”
I winced at that. Despite the relative care with which we had been treated since Peterson's fall, seven other candidates had left so far with injuries. Two from my Squad, one from Third Squad, and four from Sashi's First Squad. The Cadet Instructors told us that some of them might return, but not who or how long they would be out.
None of those had required an investigation or at least not one that we had heard about. Hilton still hadn't returned to our section and Ingvald had replaced him, more or less permanently. I'd seen the Cadet Instructor a couple times in the corridors, but he seemed to be by himself, without any candidates to torment. I hadn't seen Rakewood at all, not since they had pulled her from the section.
Saturday night, as I tried to prepare my gear for an inspection the next day, I was surprised to hear Sashi speak up from behind me. “Hey, Jiden, you've got that part wrong.”
“What?” I asked and looked up in surprise.
Sashi cleared her throat and pointed at her own gear and how she had arranged the straps. “You've got those straps on the wrong side. It's part of the heliocast harness. If you went out like that it would probably wrap around your neck and kill you.”
“Oh,” I said. Clearly my eyes must have gone wide for Sashi gave a snort. “Don't worry, we don't get to do any fun stuff like that, just yet. Besides, they do a full gear inspection before doing that kind of thing anyway, and they would catch it.”
“Thanks,” I said. I started to adjust the straps and Sashi sighed, “Here, let me help.”
She came over and adjusted the strap. After a moment she stepped back, her eyes on the floor. “Look, Jiden, I wanted to apologize.” She bit her lip. “When I saw your name in the section, and then it seemed like you were so inexperienced, I just figured I could use you to look better, you know? Especially since you didn't really want to be here.” She sighed, “It was wrong of me, I know. But the stuff between our families... and I wanted to impress them, you know? Not only the first woman from my family, but that I did better than an Armstrong!”
I shook my head, “I really don't understand. I've figured out that there's something between our families, but I've got no idea what that is. And half the Cadet Instructors make it out like there's something about the Champion's and Karmazin that should have all three of us at each other's throats.”
Sashi looked away again, “It's not my place to tell you. For that matter, I'm sure what my parents told me would be a lot different from what your parents or your grandmother, might tell you, which would be different from what the history books say, anyway.” Her dark eyes narrowed, “And anyway, what does it matter? We aren't our parents or grandparents, we're our own people. I think we can work together, as equals... and we can worry about points and all that later, after we make it through the Grinder, right?”
I nodded, “Yeah, that works.”
“Good. Friends?” Sashi held out her hand.
“Yeah,” I said, “Friends.” I shook her hand and I was surprised at the solid feel of her handshake. Whatever game she'd been playing before and whatever history between our families, I realized that Sashi had spent the past few days reconsidering things. It was good to have her on my side again.
***
Sunday morning, I lay awake in bed, ears straining for the shouts that would start our day. I didn't hear a thing, long after my newly-developed internal clock screamed that I should be out of bed. I glanced down and saw Sashi was similarly awake. “What's happening?” I asked quietly.
“No idea,” she said.
After a bit, I got up and went over my gear, weapon, and then cleaned the already spotless room. After I had wiped down the sink for the third time, I heard Mackenzie's voice in the hall. “Candidates, come on out.”
I hurried out and braced to attention on the line. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the others, equally quick. It was amazing how much we had changed in only a few days. For that matter, I realized with shock, I'm thinking in terms of 'we' instead of 'me' and isn't that a weird thought?
“At ease, Candidates,” Mackenzie said. “Now, Candidates, today, in case you haven't realized, is Sunday,” Mackenzie's voice was a calm drawl. “Now on Sunday afternoon we'll do a final inspection of your rooms, equipment, and weapons, but Sunday mornings you are allowed one hour of personal time as well as some additional time to attend church services of your appropriate faith. While I can't tell you to attend church services, I will say that those of you who don't attend will join Cadet Instructor Salter in doing some additional physical training.”
“While I let you consider that,” he said, “Let me introduce you to Lieutenant Hambly, she's doing the investigation into Candidate Peterson's injury.” Our gazes went to the uniformed woman that stood behind him. Her face was stern and she wore actual officer's rank on her collar. “She'll be wanting to meet with some of you this afternoon. I shouldn't have to tell you this, but answer any and all of her questions, don't hold anything back.”
“Alright,” Mackenzie said with a broad smile, “So, who is going to church?” My hand shot up along with all the others. I wasn't what anyone would consider spiritual, but an hour or so, setting comfortably sounded far better than another physical training session. “Well, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint Cadet Instructor Salter and let her know she'll be training on her own.”
“Oh,” Mackenzie said, “One note, if anyone falls asleep, I'm certain that Cadet Instructor Salter would love to get you outside and help you to stay awake for the remainder of service.” He paused, “Standard service begins in thirty minutes, catholic and protestant in forty five, and for those of you with more esoteric services to attend, come and ask me and I'll be sure to point you in the right direction. In the meantime, candidates, you can't attend services in your physical training uniforms. Cadet Instructors Ingvald and Marris will conduct a full inspection of your proper uniforms, which you will wear to services.”<
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My eyebrows went up at that. We had yet to be told that we could don our tan uniforms and we had only worn our boots once we brought them up to an 'acceptable' level of shine. This was obviously some bit of recognition for doing well. To my surprise, I felt my chest rise with pride. The reaction shocked me a bit, until I thought of just how hard the past week had been. The tiny bit of recognition of that fact, recognition of our section's accomplishments, meant more to me than I could have realized.
School hadn't been hard. At Black Mesa, nothing had really challenged me. Even the application process had been something that I managed with only slight difficulty and I'd never had any real fear that I couldn't accomplish what I'd set out to do.
This was hard. This had pushed me well past the limits of what I had thought I could do, and yet I had managed. I had learned, I had grown, and some of what I had done was actually fun... such as learning how to shoot.
As I hurried into my room and pulled my uniform out of the wardrobe, I stared at it for a long moment. It had seemed such a silly thing, at first, to be proud of that uniform. I remembered how Tony and his family had ridiculed it, with the polished buttons and boots and the sharp creases, ironed into it. Yet, it didn't seem funny now. “This is big,” I said, and I felt tears well up in my eyes.
“I know,” Sashi said, tears in her own eyes. She had started to dress and we both took our time and we looked each other's uniforms over, adjusting this or that, before we finally stepped into the corridor and stood at attention.
Cadet Instructor Marris came over, his face steely. He stopped in front of me and did a crisp, formal pivot before he looked my uniform over. It was a lengthy enough inspection that I began to worry, before he finally gave a sharp nod, “Looking sharp, Candidate Armstrong.”
I stood a bit straighter at that.