by J E Loddon
“In the end, the three of them went to one of the ship administrators to request he be removed as team leader,” he told me.
“Ship administrator? Who’s the ship administrator?” I asked, puzzled.
“There’s loads of them,” he informed me. “They’re in charge of personnel in their own sectors of the ship.”
“How did they even know how to find the Administrator?” I asked incredulously.
“Denn knew,” Chris said. “He was taken to the Administrator’s office one time for a fight.”
“Didn’t he get in trouble?” I asked, interested. When I’d seen people getting taken away for fights, I’d never seen them again, and I had heard that they ended up in isolation.
“No, he was a victim,” Chris said. I gave him a dubious look. “Well, he had mouthed off to someone, and they attacked him. They both got hauled off, but the security footage obviously just showed him getting jumped from behind.”
Ultimately, the Administrator had explained to the guys that the roles were allocated with the back-up of a lot of data, and that Brett had been chosen as the team leader for good reason. He’d suggested that they just get on with it. Two of them had, after all, volunteered for service, and must have done so full well knowing that they could end up working under a leader they didn’t necessarily like.
“They didn’t like it,” Chris said, “And they even told Brett what they’d done, so things are really tense at the moment.” He did genuinely look like he was pretty miserable with it. “You know, when I volunteered, I didn’t give too much thought to the practicalities of it. I assumed that somehow, because we were friends, we’d just be able to be on the same team together,” he said. “It would be bearable then, whatever squad we were on, because we’d have each other’s backs.”
“Yeah, it’s a damn shame,” I agreed. “We’d work far better together than I work with anyone on my team. I know you. I trust you. Surely, it would be far better for everyone if we worked together on a team?”
“They should give people the choice,” he said. “When you start, they should ask you if you want to be teamed up with anyone in particular.”
“Yeah, but that would only work if you didn’t do the same roles in the team,” I pointed out.
“Well, we don’t,” he replied. “So we’d have been all right!”
“True,” I agreed. “Maybe we should attempt our own coup? Create our own squad. You know, hold tryouts, hire staff. All that stuff.” I laughed, but he just stared back at me, a smile lifting at the corners of his mouth. “It’s just a joke, mate,” I assured him. “I don’t have any money to pay staff…” Still, he looked like he was considering it. “Come on, there’s no way we can pull that off,” I said, a little worried that the whole process had affected him a bit too much.
“Not a coup, no,” he agreed. “But we could just ask the Administrator. Like you said, it would make sense for them to put people together who can work well as a team.”
“They’re not gonna agree to that,” I said shaking my head. “They told Denn and the others that they wouldn’t change the roles around, remember?” I pointed out. Now Chris was shaking his head.
“They told them that they wouldn’t change the roles, that they had been given those jobs for a reason,” he said. “We’re not asking for anyone to change roles. We’re just asking for a few people to be moved around.” I looked at him dubiously. It seemed highly unlikely to me that the Administrator would even consider this.
“They’re not gonna break up the squads,” I said confidently.
“They’re not gonna be willing to break up my squad? Are you sure about that?” he asked. “Three members of the team are already trying to overthrow the squad leader. They’re not gonna switch roles around, but this offers them a face-saving solution. Think about it. We could work under Brett, with two other guys from your squad.”
I thought about it. In theory, it wasn’t a bad idea at all. It made a certain amount of sense. Denn’s boys would presumably be happier under Liberty, a squad leader that was also a volunteer. Tasia might go for it, she didn’t necessarily seem to be overly happy about our squad. I couldn’t, though, see Antonia being happy to move across with me and Tasia, though. She didn’t like us very much, but did seem to be getting on with Liberty.
“Well,” I said, “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try. You have to do the talking though.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
We went to see Chris’s zone administrator the next day, when we both had a decent window of free time that coincided. I would potentially have to miss a meal, depending on how long we had to wait. I didn’t mind this too much though, if it meant the slim possibility of getting teamed up with Chris. If nothing else, we were getting to spend some time together. Just having had the chance to have a proper conversation with him had lifted my spirits. I didn’t feel nearly so alone anymore.
The waiting area attached to the Administrator’s office was the nicest area I’d seen so far on the ship. It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it had a couple of pictures on the wall, and the seats were lightly padded. It was nicer than my hab back home. We had no idea how long we’d have to wait, but we were called in to the office in less than an hour. One of the advantages, perhaps, of barely anyone knowing the office was there.
We entered into an office that was comparable with any that I’d seen back at home. The walls were a colour other than grey. There were large, floor to ceiling pictures on the wall. Landscapes, with such things as rivers, grasses, and trees. All things that I’d never seen before in person. The Administrator introduced himself as Administrator Douglas, and motioned for us to take a seat. He was an older, grey haired man. He was slim, not muscular, though he did look remarkably healthy for someone holed up in an office on a ship in the middle of space. I noticed that he wasn’t very tall. In fact, he seemed to be shorter than me.
“So, how can I help you two young men today?” he asked, with an amiable smile. I looked across at Chris, not sure exactly how he was going to approach this.
“Hi. I’m Chris, and this is Milo,” he said. Administrator Douglas nodded at us both, and took a glance at his screen.
“Chris. Yes. You’re the volunteer?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” Chris replied. A broad grin crossed the Administrators face.
“That’s wonderful!” he replied. “We get so few volunteers, it’s always wonderful to meet a young recruit with real drive to make a difference.” Chris stared back at him, looking a little embarrassed.
“Yeah. Er, that’s right. I’m very driven to make my squad the best that it can possibly be,” Chris replied, looking, I could tell, for a way to work it into our favour.
“That really is wonderful,” the Administrator continued. “I wish all our recruits had volunteered. I don’t understand why more young men and women can’t see the value and privilege of signing up to the Galactic Division. I volunteered, many years ago. It was more of a defensive force around here then, of course. I didn’t see much action. I wasn’t one of those sent nearer the border. I’d love to be in your positions. It’s a real pleasure to be talking to a volunteer,” he droned on. Everyone on the ship was so impressed with volunteers. I didn’t get it. Making the choice to march off to your death didn’t seem like the kind of thinking to celebrate as far as I was concerned. It was clear now, though, how Denn had gotten away with some of his less than desirable behaviour. Hopefully, this adulation for Chris would work in our favour now too.
“Well, thank you,” Chris replied. “Now,” he followed up hastily, before the Administrator got going again, “one of the reasons I volunteered was because Milo, here, was called up through the lottery.” The Administrator glanced in my direction dismissively, as I gave a little wave. “Milo, uh, wasn’t necessarily that, uh, well. He doesn’t necessarily have a great aptitude for this sort of thing,” Chris said, stumbling over the best way to phrase it. “So I decided to volunteer when he got called up, because we wo
rk very well together. As a team.” The Administrator nodded at Chris, following what he was saying, but not seemingly grasping the crux of it yet.
“When I volunteered,” Chris went on, “I had assumed that we would, somehow, be able to be in a squad together. That way, I could help him to be a better soldier, and we could work together in harmony, have a really close understanding between us. On the battlefield. You know?” he said.
“Right,” the Administrator said in acknowledgement, but continued just to look at Chris.
“Right,” Chris echoed, looking a bit flustered. “So, what we were thinking,” he said, persevering, “was that we could maybe be put on a squad together? Maybe move things around a bit?” The Administrator frowned at this, but still remained silent. “Some of the other members of my current squad have had some… issues… between them,” he went on, struggling to find the right phrasing again. “So, I thought this might be a good solution. Get them onto a squad they were happier with, get me and Milo onto a team together where we could work more effectively. It might, you know, be a good opportunity to make some of the squads a bit more efficient?” he suggested, trying to look confident and positive. The Administrator sat in silence for a few moments, seemingly thinking it over.
“Hmm,” the Administrator said slowly. “Well, we very much admire volunteers here,” he began. “Always with more enthusiasm, and contributing more ideas, than the rest of the recruits.” He paused for a few moments, and we just sat, patiently, though a little bit confused about where this was going. “It is, obviously, much more preferable to have squads that work well together, without friction,” he went on. “And, absolutely, as much as possible, we like to accommodate the needs of our recruits. Efficient squads are definitely the lifeblood of the Galactic Division, and we do everything we can to make our squads efficient.” Chris and I were on the edge of our seats by this point.
“I’ll definitely take ownership of your request,” he told us. “As soon as the right circumstances come about, we’ll see about getting the two of you teamed up together, if it’s reasonably possible.” I exchanged glances with Chris. Was it a yes? It sounded like one, sort of. There’d been a good couple of qualifiers in there, though, and I couldn’t work out exactly what he meant.
“When you say ‘the right circumstances’,” I said, “what exactly does that mean again?” He turned to look at me, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. He frowned a little.
“Well, obviously as soon as we are forced to, you know, reallocate resources again, it shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. I was just as confused as I had been a moment before. Maybe even more so. I looked at Chris, who narrowed his eyes at the Administrator.
“You mean, once circumstance dictate that personnel need to be reallocated?” Chris asked him. The Administrator smiled back at him.
“Exactly!” he said. “You understand. See, smart young man.” I looked across at Chris, still hopelessly lost as to what the deal was.
“Is there anything else I can help you boys with today?” he asked us, back to his amiable smile. I glared at him incredulously. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t helped us one bit so far.
“No, no, that’s fine,” Chris said to him. “You’ve been very kind, thank you.”
“Oh, think nothing of it,” the Administrator replied, holding his hands up. “We do what we can for our fine recruits. Keep up the good work. Always makes me proud to meet another volunteer.”
Chris stood up, and started to move around his chair. He looked at me, and I held my hands out, raising an eyebrow at him. He nodded towards the door, and gave me his ‘It’s all right, I’m on top of this’ look. I frowned, and looked back at the Administrator. He was already looking back down at his desk, and I shook my head wordlessly. I had no idea if it had just been a colossal waste of time. I knew he hadn’t said ‘no’, but I didn’t know what he actually had said. I followed Chris out of the office, still shaking my head in bewilderment, and caught up to him as he stepped out of the waiting room, into a main corridor.
“OK. Are you able to explain that conversation to me now?” I asked him. “I have no idea what we got out of that?” Chris carried on for a few strides, then looked back at the waiting room door for a moment. Then, he looked across at me.
“OK, so yes, at some point, there’s a chance we’re gonna get to be in the same squad together,” he said. I held my hands out, raising an eyebrow again. “Well, think about it. Squads are made up of five people, right?” he said to me. I nodded. “OK, so then what happens if a member of that squad gets killed?” he asked me. I thought about it for a second. I had no idea. It was something I hadn’t considered at all, up until then. Then the light went on in my head.
“Oh. Ohh…!” I said. “That’s… oh, that’s dark.”
“Yeah,” he agreed with me. “I hadn’t really thought about it either. If we’re gonna get to be in a squad together, then some people have to die.”
I let this really sink in for a couple of minutes. I didn’t get on with squad. We had nothing in common, and had no real team mentality. We were still just a collection of individuals. I didn’t want to think of any of them dying, though. That was just horrible. I’d gone through the whole process expecting to die myself, but it hadn’t occurred to me that other members of my team might die before me. I mean, I’d had moments were I’d felt panic at the possibility of my whole squad being shot down, leaving me on my own out on some remote planet somewhere. I hadn’t, though, focused on the sheer horror of what that would be like, watching them die in front of me. I started to feel a bit nauseous.
“Well, this is a pretty grim situation to be in,” I said. Chris nodded. To want to be put together in a team meant to want to see members of our teams die. That was definitely not what I wanted. I was a fairly selfish human being, but I wouldn’t wish death upon anyone just so that I could have a bit of a laugh with my best mate.
I parted ways with Chris. We were both a bit depressed. Partly because of the fact that we hadn’t just been switched. Overwhelmingly, though, was a feeling of guilt. Guilt at the merest hint of wanting things to go badly for others so that we could get what we wanted. Because I still wanted to be in a squad with Chris. I didn’t want it under the suggested circumstances, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted it. Would this affect my ability to protect my team mates? Obviously, I wouldn’t consciously put them into danger, but I’d be second guessing all of my decisions, worried that my subconscious wasn’t working with the best intentions. I slumped my shoulders. I found myself wishing that we’d never gone to see the Administrator. It had just brought even more of a sense of misery to my plight.
I went to my next exercise, working out on the gym equipment. I’d promised myself before we’d embarked on the mission that I’d work harder on my body, but my enthusiasm for that had all but disappeared. As I began lifting weights, though, I started to think more about our meeting. About the words he’d used. About his jolly demeanour. He’d sat in front of us, and told us that we would get our request granted, once resources needed to be reallocated. We were the resources. Soldiers dying in the field were, to him, just fuel that had been consumed, ammunition that had been spent. Spill two glasses of water, then pour the remaining contents together to make a full cup. It disgusted me. It made me angry.
That day, I worked out harder than I’d ever worked before. Not because I wanted to improve my body. Not because I wanted to get strong so I could stick it to the Administrator in any way. It was just raw aggression. I took out my anger on the gym equipment, until I couldn’t move an arm or lift a leg. I probably wouldn’t be able to walk the next day, but I didn’t care. I’d never really felt anger in my life. Not when my parents left me. Not even really when I was conscripted. Not real, burning rage. That was what I was feeling. An accumulation of everything that had happened up to that point. The anger itself didn’t feel good. The using of it, though, the cathartic spending of all that energy. That felt good. I’d tap
ped in to something that I knew would be useful in my time ahead, no matter how short that time might be.
CHAPTER NINE
I wasn’t a smart man. I never had been. I was never really right about a lot of things. I had been right about one thing, though. I couldn’t walk the next day. I could shuffle, sure. I could stagger. I could even loaf. Walking, unfortunately, was proving nigh impossible. Lucky for me, then, that we had our first physical training exercise as a squad since returning from the mission.
It was in a room I’d never been to before. In fact, it was so far away, it wasn’t even really in our zone. I’d left, I’d thought, plenty of time in which to get there, even with my shattered legs in mind. As it was, though, the journey was longer than I’d expected it to be from looking at the map on the C-Terminal, a map I was still yet to get fully to grips with. When I arrived at the room, I was a couple of minutes late, and my Wrist-Link was buzzing away to remind me of the fact. As the larger than usual door to the room opened, I gasped at the sight. It was huge.