Space Cadets

by Adam Moon

  I ignored the other hand because it belonged to Becky Morrison, and scanned the crowd for Stacy. Maybe she was eating in her dorm?

  I finally saw her, and I was surprised that she had her arms crossed, staring back at me insolently. Maybe she wasn’t as tough as she portrayed to the world.

  Reluctantly, I pointed at Becky and asked in front of everyone, “Are you sure about this?”

  She got to her feet and said to everyone in the hall, “We are all servants. That is our purpose. Without servitude, each and every one of us would have died of starvation as babies. Our parents abandoned us. Our planet shot us out to this hell hole to get rid of us. But the military wants us. The military has invested in our futures. You should all be ashamed of yourselves for not jumping at the opportunity to give back. Of course I’m ready.”

  That’s what I meant when I said she was a weirdo. I forced my eyes to not roll and said, “We move out in the morning. Welcome aboard.”

  Mission

  Abort

  I was in my dorm room rubbing my still tender hip when Mr. Humboldt rushed in.

  He breathlessly said, “The President wants you to postpone your mission. He wants to personally issue you the Platinum Shield. He says it will be symbolic, in our time of warfare.”

  I sat up on my bed and said, “When does he arrive?”

  Mr. Humboldt looked at me like I had a turd on my face. “You can’t be serious? He’s not going to come all the way out here for that. You need to go to him.”

  I jumped to my feet. “I get to take a trip to Earth?” I had never once been to Earth, besides being born there. But I had no memories of the place.

  “Yes, but don’t get too excited. They’re a little worried about Skeptics. They think they might try to assassinate you during the award ceremony. You’ve become a symbol of hope to the administration and an object of hatred to the terrorists.”

  “I don’t give a shit if they succeed killing me. I’d do anything to breath in Earth air and drink Earth water.” I didn’t worry too much about swearing around Mr. Humboldt. We’d been through a lot together.

  “Well they’re going to give you an armored uniform just in case. Have you ever tried one on?”

  He knew I hadn’t. We didn’t get fancy stuff like that up here. An armored uniform isn’t like a mech skin. You actually wear it on your body. But it has similar capabilities to a mech. I was pretty excited to get to wear one.

  I pushed my luck, just to see if he’d push back. “I want to keep the armored uniform when I’m done.”

  He laughed. “You are a gutsy little fucker. Let me see what I can do. Your transport leaves a little before midnight. I already have a flight path plugged in.”

  “How long will it take? Do I dock with a space station or something or does the transport take me down?”

  “The transport will put you down in Chicago, Illinois. That’s where the President will be. The trip to Earth will only take about twenty nine hours. Bring a book or something. It gets mighty lonely staring out at the black for that long.”

  Earthbound

  I didn’t tell anyone about my trip to Earth. They’d all be too jealous. I told Danny and Becky that our assignment had been postponed for a few days and left it at that.

  The shuttle was cramped, as they all are. But it had a pretty extensive multimedia library and a ton of good food. I felt like a rock star.

  I did a lot of worrying, interspersed with daydreaming. What if the President thought I was a butt head? What if my real mom showed up? What would I say to her? What if the Skeptics killed me?

  Luckily, I slept for a lot of the journey. I only awoke when the transport hit the turbulence of Earth’s atmosphere. I’d seen pictures of Earth, but they weren’t sufficient to prepare me for its true beauty. I felt like crying.

  I saw the patchwork landscape become more detailed until I could pick out buildings and bridges. Lake Michigan looked cleaner than the treated water back at camp. I wanted to swim in it and drink the whole thing up. I couldn’t wait to take my first lungful of fresh air.

  The transport set down on an expansive lawn. I saw a man with a sniper rifle train his gun on me. That kind of freaked me out.

  The door was opened and I had to squint to shield my eyes from the harsh sunlight. I breathed in and my throat seized up tight. The air stank of gasses and sulfur. I hoped those smells were coming from the transport fuel and not the atmosphere, but I knew they weren’t.

  A man came at me and placed a mask over my mouth. It was a breather.

  He said, “You’ve been breathing treated air for so long that our air will make you pass out. Take it off every few minutes and gulp down a couple lungfuls at a time. We need you to get acclimated. I’d hate for the President to have to give our highest honor to a masked man.”

  He took me by the hand and led me out of the transport. I actually had to close my eyes all the way now. I took my mask off and asked him, “Is there any chance I can get a swim in the lake before I have to leave?”

  He laughed like a maniac. “That lake will strip your skin off son. It’s disgusting.”

  I put my mask back on when the Earth air started to hurt my lungs.

  Arthur Johnson

  I took a short three minute ride in an armored limo to the hall where I'd be receiving my Platinum Shield.

  I didn’t get to meet the President right away when I got there. A bunch of his minions tended to me like I was royalty. But I could also tell that there was suspicion in their eyes.

  The first thing they did was suit me up. The armored uniform was a perfect fit. I felt insanely tough in it. It was part mech, part armor, and all badass.

  I was surprised when a handsome, muscular man came into the little room I was being kept in and said, “My name’s Arthur Johnson. Are you ready for this Jack?” He was in an armored uniform too.

  Maybe I’m naïve but I expected more fanfare than this. I thought they’d put me up in a snazzy hotel and treat me to a dinner or something. I guess they don’t care as much as I’d been led to believe.

  I took my breather off and nodded my head. My head was the only part of me still showing.

  Arthur said, “Lose the mask. It’s disrespectful. It’s like saying Earth air isn’t good enough for you.”

  I tossed the mask aside. My facial armor was hinged and resting against my back. I reached back to pull it forward over my head when he stopped me. “Sorry, but leave that off too. You have to be seen looking the President in the eyes. Your smile has to show through.”

  He led me from one hallway to another until we finally stopped at a door. He had a little earpiece in his ear and he was holding it with his fingers, waiting for instructions.

  Finally, he dropped his hand and waved me towards him. “Go up the steps and walk proudly right up to him. Look him in the eyes and smile. If he talks to you, reply. If he doesn’t, just keep on smiling. As soon as he’s done handing you the shield, you need to shake his hand and then come back here. Got it?” He said it like he’d done this before. Then he flipped his facial armor down over his head. When I saw how it cinched into place, I was glad I hadn’t put mine on. It looked like it could pinch your skin clean off if it caught it just right.

  I was very scared for some reason. Maybe it was anxiety. All I wanted to do was get back in my transport and head back to camp. I nodded anyway and he said, “Good luck Jack,” before opening the door and shoving me through it.

  Platinum Shield

  My smile was twitching at the corners because of nerves. I made sure not to trip on the little staircase leading up to the stage. That was the last thing I needed. It was only then that I heard cheering. The small crowd was chanting my name over and over again. There were cameras and reporters everywhere. Everyone was smiling at me. That put some more lead in my pencil.

  I felt a little dizzy but I kept my head. Maybe the air was making me woozy?

  The President was all smiles as he took my hand in his. He was clean shaven an
d he smelled of aftershave.

  He picked a large velvet covered box up from the podium and opened it. He showed it to the crowd and then he gave a speech. He said, “This young man showed bravery in the face of adversity. He was a key player in liberating the Conquistador. He single handedly took down the terrorists aboard Deep Camp Eighty Seven. He was wounded and yet he fought on. We should all try to emulate Jack Peterson, the newest recipient of the Platinum Shield.”

  Then he turned to me and shook my hand again. It was a lot of hand shaking between two total strangers.

  For the first time I understood that I was being used as a pawn for the political machinations of others. But I didn’t care. That award was glinting under the lights. It looked heavy. Only a couple dozen people had ever been awarded one of those and most of them got them posthumously. The only living person I knew of to receive one was Rick Pringle and he just had his shipped to him because his identity was and still is a secret.

  This was a big deal for me, despite the fact that it was a dog and pony show.

  I gingerly took the medal from him.

  He whispered in my ear, “You are a true hero. I’ve never heard of anyone accomplishing the things you’ve achieved, and at such a young age. Keep up the good work soldier.”

  He shook my hand again and then all hell broke loose.

  Attack

  At first, all we could hear were distant pops, faint and intermittent. But they got closer quickly.

  The President was ushered away and someone rushed up and tried to take my hand to lead me away too.

  The President’s guards all had their weapons drawn, waiting for whoever was going to burst through the doors.

  I looked to see who it was that was trying to drag me to safety. It was Arthur Johnson. He looked deadly in his armored uniform.

  There was an explosion on the other side of the door. Arthur looked into my eyes and said, “Protect yourself.” Then he handed me a PQ5000.

  I love the PQ5000. It’s my favorite weapon and I’m good with it. I felt pretty lucky that Arthur had one on hand for me.

  I raised it up to my eye and then I crouched down on one knee.

  Arthur yelled at me, “Put your headgear on you idiot.”

  I did as I was told. This guy seemed like he knew what he was doing. I saw weird readouts scroll across my vision. I don’t know what they meant so I ignored them.

  I felt the stage rumble and I turned around to find the source. For the first time, I noticed a curtain at the back of the stage. I noticed it because a dozen men and women in armored uniforms were coming out from behind it to join us. I felt bad for whoever was coming for us now.

  Arthur said to the team, “They’ll be coming for Jack. Don’t let the line break.”

  Mechanized heads nodded in the affirmative. Weapons were raised, and we waited.

  We weren’t prepared for what came through that door. It was immense. It was a robot so decked out in weaponry it looked like a bipedal gunship. I almost shit my uniform.

  Arthur mumbled, “Shit,” reached around for something, pulled a small EMP out, and lobbed it at the robot’s feet. The EMP put the lights out but it also immobilized the robot. We had gotten very lucky that Arthur had acted so quickly.

  A male voice on the other side of the door said sarcastically, “Good job asshole. That thing was a paper tiger. The guns were all fake. But it did its job. It tricked you into using an EMP.”

  I noticed my readouts in my visor no longer scrolled. My sights were funky too. We’d been suckered. Our mechs were now worthless. We’d need to rely on our own skills.

  Arthur laughed out loud. “Then why don’t you come on in here?”

  “Because we’re not after the boy. We knew you’d split your forces to protect him. My men are taking out the President’s motorcade as we speak. So the real question is this: Why don’t you come out here, motherfucker?

  Arthur flipped his face armor back and held two fingers to his earpiece. He said, “Shit. It’s not working. I’m a damn idiot.”

  He grabbed me by the shoulder and hoisted me to my feet. “He might be lying but I need to make sure. You’re in my charge so you’re coming with me.” Then he led me back behind the curtain. He issued his men a final order. “Hold that line and kill that asshole if he pops his head out.”

  There was a door behind the curtain. Arthur opened it up and sunlight nearly blinded me. It opened on a small, clean alley. A bullet whizzed past my head and I would have ducked back inside had Arthur not yanked me out with him.

  A muzzle peeked from the rooftop in front of us. Arthur took the safety off his Popper attachment and fired the explosive at the muzzle. The boom rattled my ribs and blew my hair around. The section of wall beneath the muzzle flew away and a mangled woman fell through the gaping opening. She fell on her head three feet in front of us but the fall didn’t kill her, the explosion had ripped her body to pieces already.

  Arthur didn’t wait around. He ran off down the alley so I followed the best I could. The armored uniform was cumbersome with the mech part of it disabled.

  As soon as he got to the street he was peppered with gun shots. Luckily he had the armor on or he’d have died there.

  He turned my way and held a hand up to stop me in my tracks. When I came to a halt, he disappeared around the corner. I heard gunshots and the boom of explosives. It was like a full on war was going on, except our side had only one soldier in the fight.

  I raised my PQ5000 and prepared for the worst.

  Arthur appeared at the mouth of the alley and yelled, “Hurry up kid. I got ‘em on the run.”

  I ran forward and a bullet pinged off of his faceplate. He grumbled, “God fucking Dammit,” and then wheeled around and let loose with his PQ5000 again.

  As soon as I reached him he said, “I need a phone to call in an air strike.”

  I nodded and started to look around for anyone that I could take a phone from but the street was deserted, and for good reason.

  Arthur screamed, “Where the fuck is everyone?” He clearly didn’t like the notion of failing the President.

  On a whim I said, “Check the bodies,” and I ran over to a broken man wearing armor of his own, but apparently his armor had some flaws. I rifled through his ammo pouches and then started checking his pockets. Right away, I found it. As I ran back to Arthur, a bullet hit me in the back. The armor is effective but the impact knocked the air out of my lungs. I spun around and found the perpetrator. He was hiding inside a shop, taking pot-shots through the display window. I dumped a popper through the window and the explosion threw glass shards into me.

  Arthur was beside me now, grabbing for the phone. As he dialed whatever top secret number he had to issue an air strike, I covered him.

  A round zipped by my head and before I could react, a grenade rolled to a stop I front of me. This was it. This was how I was going to die.

  But Arthur ran up and kicked it away like a soccer ball. It exploded midair. I wanted to give him a high five but I don’t think he’d appreciate that. I zeroed in on the dome of hair sticking up over the top of a car and squeezed the trigger. The hair flew away and a body fell into view.

  Arthur said, “Fine. I don’t care. Fuck the air strike then. Send airborne Rangers to wherever the Beast is.”

  The Beast has been the name of the Presidents limousine for a long time.

  Arthur threw the phone at the ground and stomped it flat.

  I asked, “Why won’t they send an air strike?”

  “They’re nervous they’ll kill the President by accident. Fucking bureaucrats, hey?”

  Arthur started to say, “Let’s go regroup with the others back inside,” but his voice caught in his throat. Rapid gunfire could be heard and it was approaching us at an alarming rate.

  He yelled, “Take cover behind a car.”

  I ran to a smoldering red car and hunched down behind it.

  He took one across the street from me.

  There was a cowardly p
art of me that hoped whatever was coming our way would turn off down a side street and avoid us, but that was wishful thinking.

  Broken

  Beast

  To my utter astonishment, the Beast came into view at the end of the road. It was going very fast. Even from so far away, I could see the damage it had sustained. The windshield was cracked and the body was punctured over every square inch.

  There was a busted up police cruiser trying its best to keep up.

  As they came closer, the Presidents men came into view, running behind them. They were all suited in armor, but there were only four of them left. I don’t know much about how this works, but from what I’ve read, usually the President is surrounded by dozens of men and women willing to lay down their lives for him. Four remaining men did not bode well.

  One of the men exploded like a water balloon. The boom rocked the car I was hiding behind.

  Then we saw its source. There were at least a hundred men and women on foot, giving chase and there were three armored vehicles fitted with turrets and such. The men and women looked insane as they ran and fired from the hip.

  I’ve never been so afraid. There was a succession of booms behind us. When I turned my head to see what caused them, I almost cried. There must’ve been another hundred crazed men and women at that end of the street. We were boxed in. This was going to be a slaughter. The Beast sped up but a Popper was fired at its front bumper and the explosion killed the engine, and probably the driver too. It veered to the right and hit a storefront. One of the remaining three Presidential guards fell down hard. Blood oozed out from beneath his body.

  The police cruiser was hit with an exploding projectile and did a little hop in the air. No one inside survived.