Enlisted

by Nathan Pedde

  He silently cursed Cryslis couldn’t talk him through what to do. Footsteps echoed from around a corner down the hallway. A low murmur of adult voices followed and intermingled with the crunch of the footfalls.

  Des panicked. There was nowhere to hide. No boxes were stacked along the walls, or pieces of large debris. With no other choice, Des straightened his back and stood up tall. He turned, walking toward the echoing footsteps. His mind was buzzing of what to say. He was going to have to make up a convincing lie and fast.

  Two construction worker’s tools jingled from their belts. They turned a corner in front of Des.

  “Hey, kid,” the first worker said. “You lost?”

  “Kinda,” Des said.

  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Where’s Bob?” Des asked to the first worker.

  Des panicked inside. He thought he was going to be caught in his lie.

  “Who’s Bob?”

  “Bob Flatule,” Des said. “I’ve a message for him I need to deliver.”

  “Give me the message,” the second worker replied. “I’ll make sure Bob gets it.”

  “I’ve to give it to him only. Its something called a muster-notice.”

  “Robert, that’s from the military,” the first worker said.

  Des’s eyes widened at hearing the name of the worker. Inside, he cringed, I’m going to be found out… shit.

  “I heard of it, Airnie,” Robert said. “The government is calling up veterans and conscripts. They send muster-notices to them to enlist or face the consequences.”

  “I don’t want my hands on that,” Airnie replied with his hands up and shaking his head. “I also heard if we accept the message or even acknowledge the messenger, we may be next on the list.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Remember Anthony?”

  “Yeah. He quit right?”

  “No. He accepted a message for Phil. Phil was being drafted, but he ran. They drafted Anthony in his place.”

  The two workers turned to Des.

  “I’ve never heard of any Bob Flutia-whatever,” Airnie said.

  Robert forced something into Des’s hand.

  “Here’s a twenty-credit chip,” Robert said. “Leave this section of the Undercroft. Another company has the contract for the next section. Look for Bob there. Don’t tell no one you saw us.”

  Des pocketed the credit chip.

  “Fine,” Des said. “I’ve gotten turned around down here. Could you point me the way out of here?”

  Both workers pointed toward where Des entered the Undercroft.

  “Straight that way,” Airnee said, “is the closest exit. Don’t turn left or right when you come to any other intersections. Just stay straight.”

  Des walked down the corridor towards the exit. He needed a new plan as this one turned belly up.

  Chapter Nine

  Des walked through the farmland of the Ruby Sector. His red uniform a stark contrast to the green of the fields and orchards. The gravel crunched under his boot as he walked down the path. Des glimpsed a herd of cows in the distance. The cows were a small Martian variety with signature yellow markings on its shaggy furry coat, and with its triple horns displayed proudly.

  “You there?” Cryslis echoed in his head.

  “Where would I be?” Des muttered.

  “I meant, have you found anything out in the Undercroft?” Cryslis asked.

  “Funny. It turns out the place is crawling with bloody construction workers.”

  “What?”

  Des told her about what was going on in the Undercroft.

  “Why now?” Cryslis asked. “Why did they fix that mess now?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “I could get you hired on in the company,” Cryslis said. “That’ll get you real close.”

  “Each sector has a separate construction company doing the work.”

  There was a ghostly silence from Cryslis which stretched on for a few minutes.

  “I’ll call you back. Get back to your deliveries.”

  Silence consumed once more.

  Des continued down the dusty road toward his parked hover-scooter. He had a long way to get back to the shop and his real job to do.

  Hours went by. Des delivered package after package. It all seemed like it had taken longer than he intended.

  After what seemed like forever, Des sat in the ready room at the office of Courier One. The white tiles glistened in the fluorescent lighting. A locker sat to one side with his name written on a piece of tape. Des had his shirt off and was in the process of changing into his regular clothes.

  The ready room was empty of people. Des assumed the rest of the couriers all gone home for the day.

  “Where did you go today?” Diplin’s large frame standing behind him.

  Des thought of Cryslis’s name repeatedly.

  “Diplin, you’re not my supervisor,” Des replied. “I don’t answer to you. And aren’t you up for disciplinary review?”

  Des hoped Cryslis was listening to his part of the conversation.

  “Well. I’m the boss’s son. I’ll be the branch manager soon and then I’ll-”

  “Shut up,” Des yelled. “Until that time happens you can’t talk to me.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “I’ve been told by my supervisor not to talk to you,” Des said. “If you wish to speak to me you need to go to my supervisor.”

  Diplin’s face turned red. He swung his hand back and struck towards Des at a surprisingly fast speed. It connected square with his nose. Shock ran up Des’s spine. He recoiled from the blow. A trickle of blood ran down his lips.

  “Your funeral,” Des said.

  Diplin’s fist came at Des once more.

  This time, Des dodged his head to the side at the last moment. Diplin’s fist connected with the metal locker. A meaty crunch came from Diplin’s closed fist. Des ducked to the side out of the way. Diplin howled in pain.

  “See what happens when you lose your temper,” Des said. “You end up denting lockers and breaking fists.”

  “I’m going to turn you to a pulp,” Diplin said.

  Diplin made a grab for Des’s neck. Des pulled out a small pin shooter from his pocket. The pin shooter was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand and shot out a charged pin which could hit fifty meters away. The pins did different things, but Des’s favorites were small electric shocks and knock-out liquids.

  Des jammed the end of the pin shooter into Diplin’s thigh and pulled the trigger. Diplin shrieked, jumping backward in pain. Diplin’s leg gave out, collapsing in a heap, and unable to move.

  “I don’t know why you hate me so much,” Des said. “But I’m here against my wishes.”

  “What… to me…” Diplin said.

  “Hush. Look. I’d rather be elsewhere,” Des said. “But, can you look up into that corner of the ready room?”

  Des watched Diplin strained to look up into the corner. A small black device sat on top of a locker. Its black shape stood out from the rest of the white room.

  “It’s a video camera with sound,” Des said. “It’s recording us right now. If you attack me again, I’ll send the footage to the authorities, and I’ll make a formal complaint. The footage is damaging enough you will go to jail.”

  Des stepped over Diplin and walked to the small camera. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket.

  “I don’t expect you to talk. The shock will cause your vocal cords and your muscles to cease working for about a half hour.”

  A foul stench rose from Diplin.

  “Oh. I forgot about that,” Des said.

  He coughed harshly. Bile rose from his stomach.

  “The bowls will also loosen up,” Des said. “I apologize.”

  Des dressed quickly. He stuffed his Courier One uniform into his pack and left the ready room.

  Outside of the ready room, he saw Cryslis. She stormed up the hallway.

  “You okay,” Cryslis asked.
“You’re bleeding. I’ll-”

  Cryslis moved to enter the ready room. Des blocked her path.

  “I dealt with it,” Des said.

  “What?” Cryslis said.

  “I’ve clocked out,” Des said. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go. Before Mr. Anderson finds me.”

  Des and Cryslis left Courier One. They strolled down the street of the Pink Sector with Cryslis beside him. The road was empty of people. Light faded from the city signaling it was going to be night soon.

  “You did what?” Cryslis asked.

  “I recorded the entire exchange with the guy and blackmailed him,” Des said.

  “No wonder the boss sent you to me,” Cryslis replied, shocked. “You’re fearless.”

  Des stayed silent as they walked down the street. Their path zig-zagged around the sector with no clear route. After they checked to make sure they weren’t being followed, they entered the safehouse. Des was afraid Veer was somehow following them, but he reminded himself Veer didn’t have knowledge of his real face.

  Cooley sat at his customary place in front of the computer, dark circles under his eyes. Des guessed he wasn’t the only one who had a lack of sleep the night before.

  “What exactly did you see in the Undercroft?” Cooley asked not taking his eyes from the screen.

  Des pulled out a small red, misshapen device from his pocket.

  “Here is the data stick,” Des said. “I recorded it all.”

  Des passed the data stick to Cooley. He plugged it into the computer and looked at the footage. The images on the screen blurred as he scrolled through them at almost light speed.

  “Our plan’s a bust,” Cooley said after a moment.

  “Yeah,” Cryslis replied. “No way we can stalk the Undercroft now.”

  Cryslis turned to Des. “Do you’ve any ideas?”

  “No,” Des replied, “and I’ve homework to get done. I should get going.”

  The next morning was a repeat of the day before. However, it was still unnerving to look in a mirror and see someone else looking back at him.

  Des arrived at the military academy early enough to write out the previous lecture. Mr. Smith forced him to write it on a piece of plasto-paper and not a tablet. He hadn’t had to write using a pencil since he was little.

  He shoved the uncomfortable memory back into his mind. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Not everyone arrived with enough time to write the notes. Des noticed Veer didn’t show up until a few moments before Mr. Smith marched into the classroom. He watched him scramble to write on the paper. Des managed to remember most of what he thought was spoken at the previous lecture. He was unsure if he was accurate enough as Mr. Smith collected notes.

  The hour went by before he knew it. He paid attention best he could.

  After the class was done. Des managed to slip away from Veer, who followed him like a lost puppy. He disappeared out of the same bathroom window. He would have to remember to find a better way or three out of the building without getting noticed.

  A few hours later, Des sat in history class at his regular school, wearing his school uniform.

  Des fought to keep his eyes open. He wasn’t paying attention to what Mr. Mixon was saying at the front of the class. Mr. Mixon drawn diagrams on the board, and he used wild hand motions as he talked.

  “Des,” Mr. Mixon’s said, his voice distant said. “Des.”

  Des’s mind snapped back, and he stood up.

  “Des,” Mr. Mixon boomed. “Wake up. Were you paying attention?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why not?” Mr. Mixon asked.

  “No real excuse. I stayed up too late to keep up with homework, sir.”

  “A likely story,” Mr. Mixon replied.

  “What are the three reasons the first space explorers finally left Earth for good and traveled to settle on Mars?” Mr. Mixon asked. “Answer it, and I’ll overlook you falling asleep in my class. Don’t, and you get an essay.”

  “Um…” Des stumbled, searching for words.

  Des looked around the room. A couple of the students seemed bored, but many of them were openly laughing at Des. He felt his cheeks get red.

  “They left because they were persecuted for their social and religious beliefs, for economic reasons and…” Des said. “Um…”

  “Wanderlust is the official term used by historians,” Mr. Mixon said. “Five hundred word essay on the importance of sleep. Due in a week.”

  Des plopped back into his to the chair. “The first space explorers had a yearning to see the stars. Most humans do. That’s why we explore. That’s why we traveled over the next hill, sailed across the seas, and blasted off into space. The persecution and the economic reasons were merely a catalyst for the explorers to take the first leap out of the safety net and into the fire.”

  The bell rang.

  “We’ll leave it right there,” Mr. Mixon said. “Until next time.”

  Mr. Mixon gathered up his stuff and left the classroom. The students put their books in their desks and headed to gym class.

  Elsie walked over to Des and sat next to him.

  “What’s wrong?” Elsie asked as the last of the students left the classroom.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Des replied.

  Elsie gave Des a look, which he’d seen before. Every time she knew he was telling a lie, her lips pursed, head tilted to the side and her eyes got wide. She always knew, and she never let him get away with it.

  “Okay, okay,” Des said. “It’s the new job.”

  “The courier company?”

  “Yeah,” Des said. “The bosses hate me, my co-workers hate me, and the work is hard.”

  “Delivering messages is hard?”

  “It’s the number of messages I have to do, the short time frame I have and the fact my homework is piling up.”

  Des felt terrible for having to lie to her. He didn’t want to, but he didn’t choice. He didn't know how he could tell Elsie, one of his best friends, he was a spy hunting a saboteur. Especially when anyone could be the culprit. For all he knew, she could be the saboteur.

  “You don’t have to come to help me on Saturday if you don’t want to-” Elsie said.

  “No,” Des said. “I’ll be there.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sorry for whining,” Des said. “I’ll handle everything. Eventually.”

  “Listen, I’ve got to get to gym class. You should get going too.”

  Des put away his book and followed Elsie out of the room.

  Chapter Ten

  Des ran around the field. Being late to gym earned him laps. Elsie and the rest of the students practiced fencing drills.

  “You busy,” Cryslis echoed in his head.

  “Running laps in gym class,” Des said between breathes. “Elsie and I were late for class. I got laps. She didn’t. What’s up?”

  “Don’t you love double standards,” Cryslis said. “Anyways, I’ve a lead I need you to look into.”

  “Okay. What’s the lead?”

  Des’s gym clothes clung to his sticky body from his exertion.

  “Listen carefully,” Cryslis began. “Cooley has discovered some type of signal possibly originating from your school. It was only open for a couple seconds, so we don’t have much to go on.”

  “How do we know it was from this school?”

  “We don’t know for sure. It may have bounced around for a bit to make it harder to track.”

  “How do I find the source?” Des asked. “Hold on, classmate approaching.”

  There was silence from Cryslis as Des passed the finish line. He stopped running and breathed deeply, leaning on a bench.

  “Tired, are you?” Elsie asked, coming over holding an extra sword for him.

  “What do you think?” Des replied.

  “I’m supposed to be your sparring partner,” Elsie said.

  “I guess teach didn’t want Alix to go crazy like last time?” Des asked.

&n
bsp; “Probably. Do you want to rest?”

  “No,” Des said, still breathing like a windsock.

  Des walked over to his padding and his mask. He put them on and turned to face Elsie.

  She already had her mask and padding on and faced him with her sword out. Des’s sword was in her off hand. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it to Des.

  Des caught it and flared the sword towards Elsie.

  “Take it easy on me,” Elsie said through her mask, voice muffled. “I’m only a girl.”

  They warmed up with a set of simple Kata moves, each performing a specific set of steps. Des knew it was the tradition of fencers, dating back to when the first space explorers left the Earth. The explorers turned to fencing and other martial arts to deal with the boredom of space exploration.

  “Warmed up?” Elsie asked.

  “Yes. What do you want to do? Three strikes?”

  “Five,” Elsie said.

  “Sounds good,” Des shrugged.

  Des and Elsie started to spar. Their swords clashed with each other as they moved across the field. After a couple minutes, other students stopped what they were doing to watch them fight. Des thought they were an even match. He was surprised. He hadn’t paid attention to Elsie and her fencing. He had no idea she was this good to keep up with him and he was at the top of the class.

  His sword sunk inside Elsie’s guard and the tip of his sword taped against her padding.

  Elsie recoiled in surprise.

  “That hurt,” Elsie yelled, “you hit me.”

  “That’s the idea,” Des replied, “but I’m sorry if it hurt.”

  “You’re sorry now. Just wait.”

  Des gave Elsie with a questioning look on his face.

  “What are you…” Des didn’t finish the sentence.

  Elsie launched into a fast and ferocious attack. The tip of her slender sword sliced through the air faster than Des could follow. He tried to block, but the sword rapped against his padding, the sound seemed to echo in the gym.

  Surprise spread across his face as Elsie recovered and struck forward again and again. Each strike, each attack landed another blow against Des.

  “Three…” the students yelled as another strike hit. “Four… Five…”