Dragon Bone

by J. D. Cavalida

  They stepped out to a much larger field surrounded by buildings. "This is the area you're allowed to access in your three years of cadet training. On the left are the barracks, where your dormitories are. In front of us is the cafeteria. On the right are the main training ground, the gym, and the weapons shed. You can see the gate right there; it's strictly prohibited for cadets to go beyond that point. The infirmary is this way." He walked towards a white building that looked uncomfortably like a small hospital, situated beside the cafeteria. "Who here are afraid of needles?"

  Elstrin grimaced and raised his hand. Cuts and bruises he could handle, but he had never been able to stomach the sensation of having a foreign liquid inserted into his body via a syringe. Especially if he knew next to nothing about it.

  Following his lead, a two other boys raised their hands timidly. Snow nodded. "You'll all get standard vaccinations now, since some of you couldn't provide official medical documentation. If you're already vaccinated, this won't do anything harmful. As you progress through the army, you'll need regular shots every once in a while; there's no avoiding it, so I don't want any whining. Needles will be the least of your worries once training begins. Everybody in."

  The infirmary had no coded door, which only made it look more like a hospital. Ugh. They filed into a waiting room that smelled of antiseptics. Snow went over to where two doctors stood to talk to them in a low voice. His hair was a softer, more natural shade of white compared to the harsh crispness of everything else.

  "Okay, find a partner and go in," he said, turning away from the doctors to motion towards the next room. Elstrin glimpsed a row of thin beds, steel trolleys and empty IV units through the open doorway. He hung around and watched as the first, second, third and fourth pair of guys all got needles shoved into their arms until he and another uncomfortable-looking boy were suddenly the last ones left.

  Snow cleared his throat pointedly so he went in with reluctance, perching on the nearest bed. The doctor smiled a smile that Elstrin supposed was meant to be reassuring, and he resisted the urge to push away. He hated doctors too. Pervy, touchy old men.

  "Just relax and focus on something else," the doctor said heartily, lifting his arm to swipe it with cold cotton. It felt weird—he wasn't used to alcohol on uninjured skin. The doctor picked up a syringe that had about one centimetre of clear violet liquid in it and poised the needle over his skin.

  He glared at the far wall, wishing he'd hurry up already. A sharp pain shot up his arm and he pressed his lips together, trying to not think about that stuff going into his bloodstream. It felt burning hot, then numb around the injection site.

  "All-righty, all done," pervy-doctor hummed, wiping his forearm again. Elstrin jumped up and strode out of the room without waiting for his partner. He didn't stop there either, not even when he heard Snow sigh and tell the boys to wait out on the field once the staff said they could go. He stalked along the corridor as fast as he could without breaking out into a run, burst out of the white place and breathed properly again.

  He stood there in the warm, dusty sunlight for a while, calming down and rubbing the pain from his arm. A rush of air-conditioning ruffled his hair as the doors opened once more and Snow came to stand next to him. Elstrin didn't speak as he stared at the buildings in front of him.

  "Cadet," Snow said quietly, "new soldiers of the Mernot Army are all subjected to a certain injection which will determine whether or not they have the required strength to step up to the next tier. Those who fail or reject it will repeat a year until they can handle it."

  "What injection, Lieutenant?" Elstrin asked tensely.

  "You'll find out in three years, but my point is, we can't have you—"

  "I know," he snapped. "I was being immature. I just really hate needles and hospitals. Won't happen again. Sir."

  "You can call me Snow," was the quiet reply. Elstrin looked up to find him frowning pensively at the blue sky that matched his eyes. Elstrin opened his mouth to say something, but the doors opened again and the nine other boys came out. Snow glanced back, his half-stern mask falling back into place, and led the way to the cafeteria. "Lunch break for thirty minutes. Feel free to look around if you have spare time. I'll leave the door to the outer hall open so you can access the map. Meet me back out here at two."

  And that was it; they were dismissed and allowed to enjoy their first meal in the huge empty cafeteria. Elstrin went to the counter and blinked when he saw the variety of food available. Most of it was just store-bought stuff—fresh or toasted bread, sandwich fillings, spaghetti, simple salad, light snacks—but there was a lot, and far better than he'd expected. Truth be told, he hadn't expected much more than what his school cafeteria used to serve, and he was so used to eating that crap that this looked like a feast in comparison.

  He took a modest plateful of food, sat at a random table and enjoyed his lunch quietly. He knew his thoughts would change in time, but right now, the army was nothing short of heaven. Sexy off-limits guys, good food, and no insults for two waking hours and still counting. What more could he possibly ask for?

  ---

  HQ was shaped roughly like an inverted triangle, with the downwards tip shaded in blue, marking the cadets' area. It made up less than a quarter of the whole base. The broad back of the base, aside from housing a landing strip, was composed almost entirely of barracks that curved up the mountains' feet. There were too many to count on the large map, little rectangles spread neatly over the contour lines.

  At the very centre of the base was a round symbol which wasn't labelled at all. Elstrin gazed at the map for a while more before walking out of the hall and over to the barracks. It looked like what he visualised summer camp would look like—a series of identical four-storied apartments each marked by a letter. An iron gate at the front required an entry password and fingerprint scan.

  He pressed his thumb over the small piece of glass. There was a small beep and a red light flashed.

  The gate was only around ten feet tall and had no barbed wire on top—in fact, one part of the iron was smooth, as if many people had leapt over or sat on that spot in the past. Interest piqued, he inspected the design—a simple piece of ironwork with long, vertical bars and one horizontal interval. He wondered if he could hoist himself up without losing balance. He'd climbed plenty of fences before. He took two steps back, calculating the odds of falling and suffering a serious injury on his first day at the army. It didn't sound too likely.

  "It's a violation of security if you jump the gate. Then you can clean the toilets for a week," a voice said. Elstrin spun around. It was Colonel Stag, the soldier who'd taken care of his documents when he came in. He strode right up, punched in a password, scanned his finger and pushed the gate open. "Ta-da. Would you rather do kitchen duty? It's four days longer than cleaning toilets, but personally I think it's much more pleasant to wash dishes until you get blisters than to wash urinals until you really, really regret joining the army."

  "But I didn't jump it, sir."

  Stag grinned. "Right. And what do you think you're doing, arguing with a senior officer like me?"

  "Trying to save you from a minimum of ten months in jail. Because if you make me do disciplinary work for no reason, you're breaching sections 5A and 14F of the Mernot Army Code of Conduct, which basically means you're abusing your power for personal entertainment or profit. Sir."

  Laughing, the colonel said, "You're a weird kid, Elstrin. No need to throw all that legal bullshit at me, I was joking. But you know, here's a word of advice—if you ever see a Lieutenant Snow around—white hair, twenty-five, hard to miss, he's on the cadet training program—if you speak to him like that he will give you cleaning duty and get away with it scot-free, because he is one slick talker. So think twice before getting all snarky. Not everyone is as nice as I am."

  "Oh, he's in charge of the group I'm in."

  "Is he now?" Stag's eyebrows rose. "That's uncanny. Anyway, I gotta run. The next batch of you newbies is coming in."
He yanked the gate shut with a loud clang and looked at Elstrin expectantly. "Well?"

  "Er, well what?"

  "Well, a salute and some nice words like 'yes, sir' would be a good start," Stag said incredulously. "You're in the army, kid, not some damn playground."

  "I thought the Code said Mernot soldiers don't practice formal greetings and—"

  "Fuck the Code. It's older than I am. And you're far from a soldier. So salute me."

  Grudgingly, Elstrin brought his palm up to his forehead and mumbled, "Yessir."

  "Attaboy," Stag said, roughly tousling Elstrin's hair. "Keep practicing, you suck. Be glad Snow doesn't do salutes."

  He walked off towards the outer hall. Elstrin leaned against the gate and glared daggers at his back, but sadly nothing happened. A bird that flew by didn't even conveniently take a dump on his head, but Elstrin supposed life was unfair like that.

  Boys began to trickle out of the cafeteria (he had gotten out early when it began to get crowded with more cadets), some of them still holding sandwiches or fruits. There were around fifty now, and he felt a little sorry for the late arrivals who only had half the time to enjoy their lunch. They milled about the field until a small group of lieutenants stepped out. Snow clapped his hands once more for attention.

  "Listen up, cadets," he said, his voice carrying over the instantly silent group. "These will be your living quarters for the next three years, so pay attention. Each of you will be assigned a roommate and a door number. Some of your roommates will be arriving over the next two weeks until applications close. Forty cadets to each apartment and ten to each floor. One communal bathroom per floor. In your room, you will find three sets of uniform and your personal items by your bed. The army provides basic sanitary products. There will also be an identification tag, and I want you to check the details and wear it at all times—it'll be the proof of you being a soldier. Timetables are inside and activities commence immediately. Questions?"

  The crowd mumbled indistinctly. "Why do we need dog tags when we're not in combat?" Elstrin wondered.

  Snow glanced at him then addressed the group. "There are things that could happen in HQ, especially once you get promoted. The Mernot Army is known for its complex structure and advanced training programs, and not many of those programs are safe. Getting into the habit of wearing them is a crucial start. Anything else?" He paused. "The password to the common areas is 9562. They're changed every two months. Key cards will be up in your rooms."

  He opened the gate for them and the other boys jostled around the noticeboard outside apartment C. Elstrin stepped back and waited for them to trickle away, which took a while. Finally, a sizable gap presented itself and he squeezed in long enough to see his name printed at the near-bottom of the alphabetical list. White, Elstrin—rm. 310. Damn. It meant he had to trudge up three sets of stairs to get to the dorm farthest down the corridor. Irritated, he made his way up the apartment, passing open doors and loud, excited cadets on the way.

  His new room was plain and neat, with worn wooden floorboards, two beds, a wardrobe and a cupboard, simple bedside lamps and a window overlooking the next apartment. On each bed were a stack of black-grey-blue uniforms, a key card, two dog tags, a small drawstring bag and his personal things. It smelled like dry sunlight-warmed wood in here; blissfully empty, quiet, and even sort of peaceful.

  It already felt like home.

  Chapter 3

  Four days later, Elstrin's whole body was sore, blisters covered his hands and feet, and a weekend without training sounded like the best thing since down pillows.

  Training had begun very lightly on the first afternoon: just jogging around the perimeter of the huge training field in groups of twenty, and various warm-up activities that were only loosely supervised as new cadets kept trickling in until nightfall. Day two brought them into the indoors gym where they exercised in two-hour blocks on foam mats, abseiling walls and treadmills. His muscles had begun complaining loudly on the third day when they were herded out into the baking sun and ordered to climb ropes and sheer wooden contraptions that looked like a giant's torture devices. Friday was back to running laps and casual jogging, but it felt like the icing on a cake made of agony. All the while, the barracks filled up steadily until over half of them were occupied by cadets in various states of weariness, but the bed next to Elstrin's remained vacant. He didn't care. Most of what he did in his room was sleep like a corpse anyway. He'd been eating noticeably more than he usually got to and burning it all away the following laborious day in the field.

  He was having the time of his life.

  First off, the lieutenants in charge of them were none of the bastards he'd seen in movies who terrorised and humiliated young soldiers for the sake of seeing them tremble. They were strict but not cruel, swift to group cadets together based on how they did during training. They did tease— who wouldn't?—and reminisced too loudly about their long-gone days as fresh clueless cadets in HQ, while the boys tried to climb the final rung of a rickety rope ladder strung between two tall poles. It became apparent to Elstrin very early on that it was completely okay to be a smartass to the lieutenants as long as he didn't overdo it. They seemed to enjoy countering the 'teenage rebellion' as they called it, and while toilet duty was a favourite threat for a mouth that ran too loose, it never actually happened. Maybe the Code of Conduct wasn't so outdated after all.

  Snow, in particular, was interesting to talk to, simply because he didn't mind it. He was the

  quietest out of all the instructors and the most patient with the cadets' struggling skills. He didn't join in the teasing, but watched with amusement as the other officers did. While he was far from mute— he did spend free moments chatting with staff—there seemed to be a general distractedness about him, as if he always had his mind on multiple things and didn't quite give his full attention to each. He answered Elstrin's questions and comments with straightforward responses that left little room for argument (but maybe it was because they were jogging too fast to hold a conversation). Snow wasn't shy, wasn't talkative, wasn't lazy but wasn't full of noticeable energy like Stag—Elstrin was having a hard time figuring out what he was. Either way, he was a good way to pass the time during the easier tasks like running laps. And he was eye candy, but that was beside the point.

  The physical activity was what made it truly worthwhile. Elstrin would wake up at six, an hour earlier than he was accustomed to, tired and reluctant, and drag himself to the communal bathroom. The walk to breakfast was what usually woke him up—the noise of his new combat boots crunching over the dirt, the light fragrance of dew and the soft blue daylight that hung over everything like a blanket. After that there was no more peace: the cafeteria echoed with conversations and cutlery; the field became saturated with sun and heat, cadets' heavy breathing, lieutenants' laughter. Things concentrated around himself as he focused on each task at hand—and he did need to focus unless he wanted fractured bones—it cleared his mind of every other thought. As his body got increasingly worn out by the exercise, so did his head—he stopped thinking about what the school might say about his abrupt disappearance, or his stepfather's realisation that he hadn't been home for days, or when this set of push-ups would end. He just worked steadily until his brain was blank and clean, and when the next water break was called and he glanced up, sweaty and dirty, everything seemed more open and free. The exercise felt like purging the troubles that had stuck to his old life, refusing to be shaken off, bothering him like flies he couldn't swat. The newness of the training was invigorating, exciting, challenging: exactly what he needed.

  It didn't mean he wasn't extremely glad for the weekend, though. Saturday would stop being a holiday a year later when the program got more demanding, but right now he could enjoy it and sleep in. He woke up to warm sunlight and hoots of laughter from somewhere downstairs. It was nine. He sat up with a groan, did a few quiet stretches to make his muscles work a little better, and went to take a late shower before going down to breakfast
.

  The gate to the barracks was blocked by a knot of boys surrounding something on the ground. Elstrin stepped closer, curious. It was an oddly pale lizard about the length of his forearm, running frantically to and fro, trying to find an exit in the circle of legs. Its scales were pink-white like one of those albino pythons he'd seen in the zoo when he was little, but carried with them an interesting bluish mother-of-pearl sheen. A few of the boys poked it with sticks when it got too close, laughing as it jerked away, hissing. A line of thick saliva trailed from its mouth. Elstrin frowned. "Hey. Leave it alone," he said. They ignored him.

  Fast, angry footsteps approached, and cadets at the outer ring of the circle immediately sprang aside guiltily; sticks were thrown away. Lieutenant Snow strode up and unlocked the gate, shoved it open. "Excuse me," he said curtly. He held a heavy black bag that dripped water. The rest of the boys straightened up. The lizard tasted the air, blinking at the newcomer. "How did that get here?"

  "Sir, we found it in the bathroom—"

  "It got here because it was running around the training field, you pocketed it and almost suffocated it, and now you're torturing it for sport when it's obviously severely dehydrated," he cut in. "Colonel Stag is in the waiting room welcoming in new recruits. Go in there, explain what you did and who you did it with, and he'll hand out the appropriate punishment. If you lie I'll charge you with harming a protected species of native wildlife. It's a criminal offence; you can get seven years for it. Go."