Guard at the Gates of Hell (Gladius Book 1)

by George Olney

  With that, he was off and the game resumed. Shana found herself running up and down the field at a speed that was quickly becoming tiring, even in the shape she was in. Suddenly, a ball shot out of the melee and towards her. She stopped it and got ready to kick it back towards the opposing goal, but a flying body check knocked her several measures and left her dizzy on the ground.

  Two strong hands lifted her to her feet. It was a member of the skins team and he was grinning. "Good stop, but keep moving next time. The boys have accepted you, so there'll be little mercy. They won't be as gentle as I was."

  Shana realized the bare chested giant that had picked her up was Colonel Athan. He was also the one that had knocked her on her ass. He nodded to her with another minimal Gladius grin and returned to the swirling mass of yelling men. Shana shook her head to clear the cobwebs and also ran back into the game.

  She finished with a case of total fatigue, bruises and scrapes all over her body, and the satisfaction of actually haven gotten the ball to a teammate who managed to score. The shirts won by one goal, so she figured she'd given a worthwhile performance. Given her limits. The number of teammates that told her she'd done a good job made her feel good, too. When her team mobbed in celebration with yells and high hand slaps, she was yelling and slapping right along with them. The slaps hurt her palm, too. She ignored the pain as insignificant.

  Colonel Athan walked up to her. His comment was interesting, if a bit of a backhanded compliment. "You're slow and a little out of shape, but you have heart, Sim Ettranty. We appreciate that. You went a long way towards being accepted today. You're welcome back on the playing field."

  Slow and a little out of shape! She was in better condition than ninety five percent of the population of Cauldwell. She began to think about the nannie treatments again, while she showered in the quarters. She tried to ignore the idea, but it was insidiously seductive. Live longer and be stronger, for nothing more than two days treatment. She wasn't the kind to make impulsive decisions on important subjects, but she could feel herself leaning towards acceptance.

  The recruit training idea was getting to her, too. She'd really see the Gladius as he was, because she was being trained to be one. She was a reporter and had no desire to be a soldier, especially the way the Legate told her they lived. Still, it would be a challenging project, and she didn't back off from challenges. Maybe if they'd let her do segments about her training. She already had a couple of stories in mind, but nothing with real meat. Putting her into the life of the legion would have tremendous human interest. She decided to ask Adam and see what he said.

  Outside, she faced the Sergeant Major. As usual, he wasn't at a loss for words. "You did well, girl, considering you started far behind our standards. Want to see some more now?"

  Shana shook her head. "All I want is a good meal and a chance to treat these bruises before bed tonight. I think I've had it."

  The Sergeant Major laughed, took her over to the Decurions Club, and fed her a dinner that would have passed muster at any expensive restaurant on Cauldwell. On her trike headed back to Beauregard she was still mulling the nannie treatment and the recruit training offer. If she accepted the course, she was going to have to accept the nannies. Nobody said so, but she'd be far below par unless she did. Another reason for the treatment. A little voice told her she wanted to live longer and be stronger and she was simply justifying the decision she already knew she'd make.

  #####

  Back in her apartment, she called Adam. When his chubby, balding figure materialized above the holophone, he was monitoring the rival tridio networks on several split screen monitors, tossing hardcopy and chips from one pile to another in a frenetic search for something he found right in front of him, meanwhile shouting contradictory orders off screen. In other words, he was his usual self. "Can't talk much, Shana," he began abruptly. "The Times is playing up that bribery scandal and we've got to show the Federal Populists are at the bottom of it." Two days ago, the Beauregard Times, Cauldwell's largest newsfax, had broken a story about three members of parliament taking bribes and kickbacks totaling nearly two million Marks. The MPs, however, were from the rival Progressive Statists.

  Shana didn't blink at Adam's statement. Federal Populists were generally in opposition to the Guidance Council, and a frequent subject of condemnation at Council meetings, so CWNN had to somehow get them into the picture. Out of curiosity, Shana asked, "Suppose they aren't involved?"

  "Oh, they will be," Adam breathlessly shot out as he scrabbled through piles of fax. "I'm sure of it. If we can't get anything, we'll let the Times play their games and move on. Your story will grab viewers anyhow, so it's a good thing you're out there with those Gumbys, or whatever. I have Roberto on the FP story, anyhow. How are you doing?"

  Shana sniffed. Roberto was way behind her in the ratings and she was sure she was going to grab more airtime with the stories already in her head. "Good. Send a crew out tomorrow and I'll shoot some reports."

  "They killed anybody or blown up anything yet?"

  That was an ordinary question from Adam, but one that somehow irritated her. The Gladii were simply setting up and preparing for the Wareegans. That was where her story arc was headed, towards the confrontation, although Adam didn't seem interested in the survival – or lack of it – of Cauldwell. "Send a crew out tomorrow. I'll put two stories in the can then. Look, let me tell you about an offer they made..."

  When he heard about the idea of Shana undergoing recruit training, Adam nearly jumped out of his chair. "Lord Above, yes! Go for it! Viewers will love shots of you being abused. Talk about viewer identification and human interest! This'll be big! How soon can you do it?"

  "I'll find out tomorrow," Shana replied. They talked some more, then Shana broke the connection with a feeling of dissatisfaction. She had a great story, the editor was happy, so why was she getting a bad taste in her mouth?

  #####

  The next day, the Legate listened to her ideas about stories calmly and only commented on her plans to take the nannie treatment and undergo recruit training. "Are you absolutely sure you want this, Shana? Not the treatment, although that is usually only given to recruits since we have to be judicious as to who has it. I have no problems in your case, by the way, but recruit training is grueling. We are now going to start it again for the four young men we managed to bring out with us. They are years ahead of you in the basics, so we'll give them a break for a few weeks so you can at least learn a little of what they already know. They have the necessary ground work already and you will be far behind them. Are you sure you can handle that?"

  Shana nodded emphatically. "I can. Sure I'm a woman, but I'm in good shape."

  The Legate leaned back and gave her another of those searching looks she was becoming accustomed to from the Gladii. "Being a woman doesn't matter. Every Gladius takes recruit training. Sex is irrelevant to us for training purposes and you're about to become acquainted with the unpleasant aspects of that attitude. Still, if you think you're ready, you have my approval. We will continue our discussions again when things settle down for you. In fact, I look forward to them. I think you have a lot to learn."

  This returned Shana to a subject that had been bothering her. "You're talking about my father and the Empire? Is that it?"

  "In due time," the Legate said. "That is a complex subject and one for the future. For when you get to know us better. As of now, I've been notified your tridio crew has arrived at the gate. You need to meet them. You will start your treatment tomorrow, and recruit training two days after that. Prepare yourself."

  After she left, the Sergeant Major walked in through the private door from his adjoining office. "She's going for it?"

  The Legate nodded. "All the way, Lord Above bless her and keep her. We'll schedule the integration formation soon, as soon as she's ready. I have complete confidence that young woman will pass the training satisfactorily. I just wonder what it will do to her."

  #####

  Sh
ana had experienced nannie work before, so she was prepared for injections and therapy, but the ship's hospital was more advanced than any she'd ever seen on Cauldwell. "Just relax, Sim Ettranty," a very pleasant ship's doctor said. He was short, somewhat overweight, and had a mild fatherly air. "We usually work with the Corps so we have a lot of experience in putting people back together who are missing a few things here and there. Since you have all your body parts, including, I might add, a very necessary additional lobe to your brain, this will be much easier. That lobe is present in many people, but they don't know how to use it. You'll be able to use yours when we finish. As to the nannie work, you'll experience the usual degree of aching, because these are some very serious mods we'll be doing to your body. Nothing that hasn't been done millions of times and the mods don't take long. Every Gladius undergoes them before taking recruit training, so I'm sure we've got the bugs worked out by now."

  It wasn't until later that Shana realized her mild, fatherly doctor was one of the Fleet contingent from the original Victrix Base. That mean he'd gone through heavy fire to board an escaping troop carrier and become part of a desperate hope for survival, simply because he had an oath to honor. The guy didn't look like the do-or-die type. More like a pleasant shop keeper. There was obviously much more depth to these people than she was seeing. Another reason for Recruit training. She wanted to get inside their heads.

  The fact they might get inside hers didn't occur to her.

  She spent the second day in the physical therapy box and was on her feet and ready to leave the hospital the following morning. And why, she thought to herself, couldn't Cauldwell do that?

  The Sergeant Major showed up leading a bulky, tough looking decurion. "This is Drill Sergeant Howard," the Sergeant Major told her. "You are his personal project for five hours a day. That's a normal training day and you get special time for your stories and other requirements."

  Well, that was a relief! Shana was wondering how her training was going to impact her job. She immediately forgot that little problem.

  Howard shoved his face into hers. She recoiled in wide eyed shock. "The Sergeant Major just said you belong to me. Pity it isn't all twenty six hours a day, Ettranty, 'cause I could use a hobby.

  "Now," he growled, "we'll learn to use that new body of yours. How about a brisk little trot to the supply shack for your uniforms then we'll really start to get you into decent shape."

  Howard's idea of a "brisk little trot to the supply shack" differed from hers. By Shana's (aching) estimation they circled the base twice before being presented to a supply clerk, who shoved a khaki coverall and a pair of boots at her. "Put that on in there," he said, pointing to an empty room. "We'll put your clothes in your quarters."

  After her first training day, Shana wasn't exactly surprised to be shown back to the same dome she'd used before the game. She wasn't really surprised, either, when the closets now contained multiple sets of the same shapeless khaki coveralls she now wore, except they were clean - not grimy and sweat stained from more forms of physical exercise, jumping, crawling, and climbing than she knew existed. She was now also familiar with standing at attention, facing movements, and saluting. Other, more arcane, mysteries would follow. "I'll teach you to march," Howard declared with exasperation, "when I'm sure you can walk in a straight line for more than two steps."

  Shana was nursing a real desire to prove the bastard wrong. She also wanted to kill him, except he scared her too much.

  #####

  Several weeks later, Shana was coming to terms with the increased abilities of her modified body, no longer quite as exhausted when she stumbled back to her quarters to clean up. Her grinning tridio crew had more than a few shots of her doing exercises, climbing various obstacles and ropes, and jumping in and out of pits. Shana was particularly proud of one report she'd filed after completing an obstacle course, her words coming in gasps as she recovered. She no longer rode home at night. She was losing too much time on the road.

  There were advantages to being out at the base, too. Adam was, as usual, all over the place whenever she talked to him and it was beginning to get on her nerves. Imin was becoming a problem, too, urging her to drop the story and get back to where they could resume their relationship. Her father was his usual disapproving self.

  When she had time to think about it, she wondered why she was letting Adam bother her. He never had before now. Was she changing her perspective on things? Certainly, the Sergeant Major was taking time each day to tell her as much as he could about the Gladius and what it meant to be one, and that was interesting. More interesting than crooked politicians, certainly. Imin... well, that was another situation - and one she didn't want to examine yet. Maybe it was time to cool him off and look elsewhere.

  When Shana reported for training the next day, she got a surprise. Howard trotted her (directly, for a change) back to the supply office. There she was issued a Gladius uniform of khaki blouse, the first pants she'd seen on the compound besides her own, a belt, and a cap. The cap was about fifteen centimeasures high, flat on top with smooth tapered sides. Seen from above, it looked something like a water drop with the rounded front over her brow and the point over the braid she now habitually wore. Howard told her to change.

  When she was again outside, Howard looked her over and then, with the usual growls, straightened what he called a "gig line" as she stood to attention for his inspection, lining up the front seams of blouse and pants with the edge of her belt buckle. "There - you have your recruit training uniform, Ettranty. If you disgrace it more than I expect you to, I'll make you regret the fact. Come on."

  Off they went at the usual trot, to join a group of four boys in their early teens at a training area across the base. "Recruits," Howard said laconically, "all we have left, Ettranty. You are now twenty percent of our recruit strength and the last member of this squad. The fun begins for certain, now."

  He raised his voice to snarl at the whole squad. "All right, idiots, remember this! You are all worms beneath my feet. You know nothing. You can do nothing right. All I can hope for is that you learn to be a Gladius one of these days in the far future. Right now all you have is your squad, nothing else. You are in this together and you have to take care of each other. Remember that! Watch your buddy's back. Nobody else is going to do it for you."

  They were trotted over to a level grassy area and issued plastic dummy weapons, short belt axes resembling the ancient "tomahawk" for the boys and a 25 centimeasure long straight double edged dagger for her. "This is where you begin to learn your basic weapon," a craggy faced instructor told them. "These are soft plastic so you won't cut yourselves. Whenever the distant time comes I hope you can be trusted with a live weapon, you'll get one. Right now, you are here to learn the basic moves of defense and attack, both with the blade and without one."

  Howard, to Shana's mild surprise, took her to one side and began drilling her with the dagger. "Drill Sergeant," she asked during a short pause, "how do you know a woman's weapon?"

  To her greater surprise, he didn't growl back. He even seemed human as he corrected her posture before answering. "A weapon is a weapon, Ettranty, and you learn 'em all as you grow up. Those lads in your squad have been around these things since they got out of diapers. You haven't and I don't expect you to become an instant expert. For one thing, issue blades have monomolecular shear fields along their edges. A live blade will cut anything, including you. You'll spend some time with a dagger every day from now on. I want to make sure you cut only what you're supposed to cut before you handle a live blade. You'll get a real one of these when you graduate from Recruit Training and I want to make sure you know how to use it safely. Now, show me that underhand slash again."

  Shana was left to exercise on her own for a few moments, earning a bark from Howard when she just stopped, staring. What he'd said had just sunk in and left her a bit stunned. These people were actually planning to give her one of their weapons to keep!

  She lost that thread
of thought when a Legionnaire Fourth Class came trotting up and spoke quietly to Howard. "Ettranty!" he yelled. "Shag ass over to the Legate's office. He wants to see you."

  Shana was amused at the wide eyed looks on her young squad mates as she left, double timing, for what she hoped would be another interview. The Legate was a distant god to these boys and this old woman in their midst actually talked to him! She wondered what the boys would say the first time they were all alone.

  As she started to walk into the Legate's office, the Sergeant Major, standing just outside, growled, "Report properly, Recruit."

  "Aye!" She whipped off her cap, snapped to attention, and blurted out in what was now an involuntary reaction. "Legate, Recruit Ettranty reports."

  As impossible as it seemed, the Legate's eyes were twinkling as he looked at her. "At ease, Sim Ettranty. Sit down. You didn't think we'd go this far, did you?"

  Shana was slightly stunned at her reaction to the Sergeant Major's command, but she sat, still without thinking as she followed the order. "I didn't know how well you condition people!" she said, shaken. "Or how fast!"

  Then she started to get irritated. "You had no right to do that to me, damn it! You got into my head! I'm still going to be a civilian when I leave here!"

  "If you say so," the Legate returned imperturbably, "but you will carry something of us forever, even after you leave. You will also have the right to wear that uniform, and I will not allow you to devalue it. Besides, you wanted to know how a Gladius thinks, not to mention getting some juicy tridio stories. You are accomplishing both of your aims."