by Phil Geusz
“Sir!” I declared, freezing in place and standing at as best an attention as my heaving chest could manage. I’d climbed the practice-bluff thirty-five times in a day before; if the captain had known how exhausted I was growing he might’ve been more patient.
“You’re a snotty, Birkenhead!” he declared. “As uppity a one as I’ve ever seen in all my long years. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Tell me you’re an uppity snotty,” he ordered.
“I’m an uppity snotty, sir,” I repeated.
“And you’re a filthy Rabbit, too! Your parents were animals! Repeat that!”
By then I’d had about enough. If this was what he meant by ‘breaking’ me, perhaps it’d be best to get it over with. “I’m a filthy Rabbit,” I repeated, saying no more.
“And your parents?” the captain demanded.
“I never knew my mother,” I replied. “But my father was a chief engineer who died at his console in battle against the Imperials, saving the lives of Lord Marcus and his son. How about yours, sir?”
There was a long, cold silence. “Cadet Birkenhead!” the enraged captain screamed. “You’re insolent, young sir! That’s five… No, ten! Ten demerits! And you’ll spend the night on masthead duty!”
“I do not understand, sir.” I replied. It was, I’d already figured out, a reply that was at least sometimes permissible. Apparently, this was one of them.
“Because you’re an ignorant, unteachable moron!” came the inevitable reply. The officer pointed up at the crow’s nest, where I’d been forty-three times already. “The Mast continues above that nest, Cadet. You're to climb all the way to the top and stand at attention atop the butt-end until relieved sometime tomorrow morning. Do you understand now, snotty?”
“Yes, sir!” I roared.
“Good! Then do it!”
“Aye-aye, sir!” I replied. Then just to spite him I bounced up the Mast more quickly than I had even the first time (practice makes perfect!), skivvied up the naked pole, and stood at attention atop its end as ordered.
“Now, Sergeant,” I heard the officer say, clearly if faintly. “I think this little demonstration should clarify our staff discussions on how to handle our little Rabbit problem?”
“Yes, sir!” Sergeant Piper replied, though I could tell he was deeply angry.
“Good,” the captain replied. Then he looked up and down at the rest of his charges. “The rest of you are all good boys from outstanding families,” he explained. “Please, don’t let this upset you too much. But also never forget that the armed forces are the guardians of our social order in more ways than one. You’ll see many ugly things during your careers—this is only the first.” Then he turned back to Piper. “Take ‘em to the dining hall, Sergeant. There’s nothing more to be accomplished here.” Then he looked up at me. “We’ll have this settled in a week or less, I reckon. Then things can get back to normal.”
17
I couldn’t possibly have been the first cadet ever to weep at the masthead, I reassured myself over and over again as the tears flowed and my nose ran and waves of anger and frustration and shame took their turns washing through my heart. My thighs ached, my feet felt like two broken lumps of concrete, my arms throbbed, and sometimes when the clouds broke the sun blinded me. I was also terribly hungry and thirsty. But despite it all I stood at rigid attention as ordered, unsupported and swaying gently in the wind. I was lucky enough to be facing west, which meant that I could appreciate the colors of the sunset as they gathered in the approaching gloom. Though how I was going to make it through the long night to come, well… It’d be best if I took it hour by hour, and didn’t think ahead any more than I had to.
It was well after dark before I suddenly realized I wasn’t alone on the Mast. At first I felt nothing but a series of vague thumpings and bouncings in the wood underneath my feet, but soon there came voices as well. “Rig that paint can on the yardarm, Cletus!” a high-pitched voice cried out. “And Jeremy! You and Derek reeve the new footropes on the sky-yard!” It was a maintenance crew, made up of Rabbits like me. I certainly hoped I wasn’t going to be in their way.
At first it didn’t seem like I was. Soon twenty or so Rabbits were working busily in the Mast’s upper reaches, and the scents of paint and tar were heavy in the air. They ignored me, as I was sure they’d been ordered to do, and I ignored them. Until someone climbed up the last little way from the crow’s nest to the masthead and looked up at me. “Excuse me,” a respectful voice asked. It was that of the crew-chief. “May I speak to you?”
I frowned at first, not wanting to get anyone else into trouble. “I’m not sure it’s allowed,” I replied. “Am I in your way?”
“Oh, no!” the crew chief replied, smiling. “Not at all. Then he held up a little bag. “But I thought you might want some dinner.”
I blinked, and my stomach roared its approval at the idea. “Thank you so much,” I answered. “But that’s definitely not allowed.”
“I thought not,” the Rabbit replied. “But then, we’re not allowed to sleep on duty either.” He pointed down into the crow’s nest, where a midnight-black Rabbit was all curled up napping. “We’re also not allowed to play cards when we’re supposed to be working.” He pointed to where two of his workers were doing exactly that. “And, most of all, we’re not supposed to hang paint cans and tarps in front of the monitor cameras.” He grinned. “Which we’ve done, of course. Because we’re obviously too stupid to remember where they are. So when it's dark they have no idea what goes on up here.”
I blinked silently, and my mouth watered. “I could stand a bite,” I admitted.
“And a nice long rest, as well,” the foreman declared. “Come on down to the crow’s nest, David. Don’t worry—you won’t get caught. It’ll be our honor to share what we have with you.”
***
“…and that’s what got him so angry, I guess. When I compared my parents to his.” I shook my head and looked around at all the work-crew bunnies. They were sitting and squatting with ears erect in rapt interest. I took another mouthful of hay, then a sip of water. Sure, my meal was made up of ordinary slave-rations. But as famished as I was, it tasted as good as anything I’d ever been served in the Governor’s palace. Better, even! Besides, I’d been raised on the stuff. I sighed and looked down at the floor of the crow’s nest. “I guess I pushed things too far.”
“Maybe,” Sergei answered. He was the foreman, and the others always deferred to him. “But… I’ve been a groundskeeper here all of my life, and I’ve never once seen anyone stand Mast for more than an hour before. Much less all night.”
I nodded sadly, but didn’t know what to say.
“David’s a Rabbit,” another commented. “No matter what they say, they won’t let him get ahead.”
“He shouldn’t even try,” a third added. It was Lenny, who’d been asleep in the crow’s nest before I displaced him. Being coal-black, he wasn’t easy to make out in the night. He looked directly at me. “Nothing personal, kid. I mean, I really respect what you’re trying to do. But they’ll never let you be the same as them. Not for anything! So why are you even trying? It’s best to just take things as easy as you can.”
I pressed my lips together and sighed. “Some of the humans have treated me right,” I pointed out. “And I bet one or two have been good to you, too!”
“Damn right they have!” Sergie declared, glaring angrily at Lenny. “And don’t you ever say anything to discourage David again, d’ye hear? He’s the most important Rabbit alive!”
The black lapine was just about to reply when suddenly the mast began to tremble again. Something far larger than a Rabbit was ascending, and fast! “Shit!” Lenny declared, grabbing a paintbrush and slipping over the side of the crow’s nest. Suddenly the upper Mast was alive with Rabbits scattering this way and that, myself not least among them. I’d just hit my “attention” position at the masthead when a marine’s black hat appeared at my feet. “Da
vid?” a voice whispered. It took me a moment to recognize that it belonged to Sergeant Piper.
“Yes, Instructor-Sergeant!” I snapped.
The marine sighed, clearly relieved. “I’ve been watching you on the monitor every chance I had,” he explained. “Then, when they hung that tarp in front of the camera, well… I was going to climb up and check in on you anyway. Now I’m doing it a little earlier than planned, is all.” He smiled.
I stood rigid and expressionless, not sure what else to do.
Finally Sergeant Piper sighed. “At ease, son.”
I let myself relax, then folded my arms behind my back in the approved position. I wasn’t supposed to have learned it yet, but had picked it up while a ship’s boy.
“How are you feeling?” the sergeant demanded. “Are you all right?”
My jaw worked before answering—I wasn’t sure of the proper form. “I’m tired and sore, Instructor-Sergeant,” I admitted. “But basically okay.”
He nodded. “Are you strong enough to climb down for a rest on your own? Don’t be foolish, David. If you need for me to carry you, I will. There’s no shame in it.”
“I’ll make it,” I replied.
“Good,” he answered. Then he smiled again. “I brought you dinner, David. Still warm! And water, too. Eat and drink first—I’m sure you must be half-starved. Then, I fear, we must have a very serious discussion indeed.”
18
“…the captain who did this to you is the Commandant of the Academy,” Sergeant Piper explained as I ate heavenly warm beans and drank water that still carried a pleasant chill. Yes, I’d already eaten. But there was still plenty of room after all the climbing I’d done. “And Captain Drecher has it in for you, David. I wasn’t certain before. Now, however…”
I nodded and wiped my dinner plate as clean as I could with my napkin, then put it back in Piper’s rucksack for him. “Thank you,” I said. “From the bottom of my heart.”
He smiled back. “It was my pleasure. But, son… What I’m trying to tell you is that he’ll do anything to drive you out of here.” He pointed up at the masthead. “That punishment is meant for the most severe offenders, and never in the kind of dose that was dished out to you.” He shook his head. “You might not’ve lived through the night. All it would’ve taken was to doze off for an instant, and…” He looked away and sighed, then met my eyes. “I’d have gotten here sooner, if I could’ve.”
I nodded. “I know.”
He shook his head and looked away. “As an instructor, I’m cruel. Deliberately, viciously and wantonly cruel. Because it’s a cruel universe out there for King’s officers, and it’s my job to make you hard. It’s not, however, my job to murder you. Or the Commandant’s job, either.” Then he looked up and met my eye. “David… I barely know you yet. But I fought to be assigned as your instructor.”
I tilted my head, not understanding.
“It’s true,” he admitted. “It’s also the last thing I should ever tell you, if I thought you had the faintest chance of finishing up here.” He looked away. “As your instructor-sergeant, I’m empowered at any time to accept your resignation. It’s even my job to suggest resignations in the cases of those whom I don’t think will cut the mustard.” He looked down at his feet. “In this case, however, it’s the institution itself that’s the problem. It’s failing you, David—not the other way around. Today was bad enough—you might’ve died! Who knows what tomorrow will bring? And I fear that I’m not in a position to do much except watch it happen.”
“I see,” I said finally. So I was to be a washout after all, despite how far I’d come. Then I thought about His Majesty and his chocolate milk, of all things, and the little talk he’d given me about the burden of the Sword. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Instructor-Sergeant. But I fear that I can’t resign.”
His mouth formed a hard, thin line. “Son, I don’t want to have to bury you. Don’t think I’m exaggerating here.”
I nodded again, then stood and brushed off my uniform. “I’m very grateful,” I explained again. “And I understand your position entirely. This may prove to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done or will ever do. But I simply cannot quit. It’s not an option. His Highness wouldn’t approve.”
Sergeant Piper gulped. “His Highness?” he asked.
I nodded. “You’ve shared your secrets, so I’ll share mine. His Majesty pulled strings to get me in here.” I shook my head. “What sort of an ingrate would I be after that, if I just up and quit on my very first day?” Besides, I didn’t add while looking out over the Rabbits laboring away all around us and pretending not to listen, I owe too much to others in lower places as well.
The sergeant nodded. “Well,” he admitted. “That does indeed put a new spin on things.” He looked off into the distance for a moment. “I can only protect you in small things, not large ones. Your demerits, for example. Ten is enough to get you expelled all by themselves. But it’s my job to cancel them. I’m hereby deleting nine in recognition of your outstanding performance climbing the Mast over and over again today—I’ve never seen such a magnificent display of stamina.”
“Thank you, Instructor-Sergeant!” I replied.
He nodded. “The tenth, though… You sassed an officer, son. The Commandant, even. That one you’ll work off like everyone else. I promise you won’t enjoy it.”
“Yes, Instructor-Sergeant!” I replied. By now, somehow I was standing at attention again.
“Since you’re too great a goddamned fool to resign,” he continued, his face slipping into its perpetual mask of anger, “then I suggest you climb back up and perform the rest of your duty.” His face softened again. “If you feel woozy, you have my permission to climb down to the crow’s nest and take a twenty-minute rest. In fact, I so instruct you. The blame will come back entirely on me.”
“Yes, Instructor-Sergeant!”
“And as for the rest, well… I’ll be thinking about it. Maybe I’ll come up with a little something.” He shook his head. “Now climb up there, you snotty young fool! What’re you waiting for, an engraved invitation from the Queen Mother? Move! Move! Move!”
Despite myself I grinned. “Yes, Instructor-Sergeant!”
And so it was that I spent my entire first night at the academy standing at attention atop the Mast, looking out across the sleeping grounds. Though my legs ached like fire and my feet nearly froze, I never even came close to crying again. Or at least I didn’t until dawn, whose first, earliest rays cast a perfect shadow of the Mast across the Academy’s parade grounds.
And that shadow revealed the entire Mast beneath me was crowded with Rabbits and uniformed adult humans, all standing silently at attention and waiting for the Commandant to come and order me down.
19
The next day was unlike any other in the history of the Academy, I’m told, though I didn’t get to see much of it. Instead of the midshipmen being taught how to form up for roll call, as was normal for the second day of the session, soon they were wandering around all over the place, many standing at the base of the Mast and gawking up at us. This, I later learned, was because nearly all the instructor-sergeants were up there with me instead of coordinating the students. When the upper faculty leadership finally realized how terribly wrong things had gone for them, well… Let’s just say that officers are supposed to be good at dealing with unexpected crises, but that doesn’t mean they actually are. They scurried about in total disorganization, shouting so loudly at the cadets that sometimes I could make out their words despite the brisk breeze that'd sprung up sometime around midnight. “Back to the barracks! That’s an order, damnit!” Some even broke out their sidearms at the apparently-threatening sight of Rabbits and instructors standing silently at attention together. Eventually, though, the leadership managed to shoo all the other students back inside. Whereupon they all stood in a disorganized knot at the base of the Mast and gesticulated wildly at each other. Finally, around nine o’clock, Captain Drecher strode ou
t away from the others and, shading his eyes, looked directly up at me. “Cadet Birkenhead!” he bawled out in long, loud tones. “Come down here this instant! Move, move, move!”
I honestly tried to move, move, move. But by then I’d been standing still for a very long time. So long, in fact, that merely bending my knees without any load on them wasn’t easy—they made cracking noises and didn’t want to move at all. Thus, I suddenly realized that I was much further gone than I’d appreciated. The world sort of spun ‘round on itself as I negotiated the rim of the crow’s nest, so badly that I teetered and might’ve fallen…
…save that a powerful hand grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me to safety. “It’s all right, David,” Sergeant Piper explained. “I’ll carry you.”
“I can make… I mean…” I protested. But my heart wasn’t in it and the sergeant knew it.
“Hush, now!” he replied. “You’ve done plenty, son. Let someone else carry part of the burden sometimes. That’s something all good officers must learn sooner or later, and now’s as good a time for you as any.” He tossed me over his shoulder and carried me down like a bag of flour. The man must’ve had muscles like an ox!
When Sergeant Piper stood me in front of the Academy Commandant, the ground heaved and bucked so badly that I collapsed. “On your feet, snotty!” the Commandant roared, and I took a moment on all fours to shake my head and try to bring myself around. But everything remained gray and formless no matter what I did.
“Sir!” Sergeant Piper declared. “The cadet should report to sickbay, sir!”
“How dare you?” Captain Drecher replied, his attention distracted. “And, while we’re at it… Exactly why are all of you instructor-sergeants standing around instead of performing your duties? Alongside a bunch of filthy Rabbits at that?”
“We are performing our duties, sir,” he replied.
The captain’s mouth dropped open.