“No?” Hans’ brows drew together.
"She should be a first year, but she placed into our year at the exams this spring.” Einar explained. “They say she somehow got the greatest score they ever had. Only sixteen and already a second year."
"Well, boys, you sniffed her out. My congratulations.”
"You've got to be careful, Erik. W hates to see any personal relationships develop within squadron groups." Nikolai warned.
“I don't care, I'll do what I want.” Said Erik.
* * * * *
Erik fidgeted with the cuff links of his uniform as he stood waiting behind the door. More than three squadrons had already shown up for Kobaiyashi's party by the time he arrived; he could already hear the dull roar of voices outside in the corridor.
Hans went in, but Nikki and Einar pressed in on Erik from behind, and he was carried into the revelry.
For a while, he enjoyed himself, drinking with Nikki, dancing with one of the nearest girls and then another. He did not exactly know how to dance properly, but none of them did. He, like most of the others, tried to modify his movement to fit the particular type of music Akira had selected. There were ancient classics played on elegant instruments, rock n' roll, unearthed from the past or half-remembered down the ages, and cultural songs as old as human civilization itself.
As time went on, Hans left him and went to sit down by a beautiful girl with ebony skin Erik only knew as Jamila. Erik and Einar joined Nikki in another round of beer, and then they all returned to the dance area to pick partners.
Later in the evening, Erik was heading to the beverage facilitator for refreshment after all of the dancing; as he reached the machine, he spied several people in the corner, sitting on the divan panels, talking and playing various illicit card games for time on leave chips.
Erin Mathieson was talking to Akira. Erik had been the first to meet her, to welcome her into the Blue Stripes; he felt suddenly quite irritated by Akira's proximity to her. What could he do about it? he wondered. Meanwhile, Erin continued listening to the energetic, witty Japanese cadet, oblivious to Erik's growing sense of indignation.
How—he asked himself—how could a girl he hardly knew have gotten under his skin so quickly?
* * * * *
He didn't contrive to speak to her until Friday. The group was finally going outside to visit the Botanical Gardens that morning after breakfast. It took him forever to catch up with her and those near the front of the herd. She appeared startled when he tapped her on the shoulder and offered a hello.
"Remember me?" He smiled; it was a well-practiced smile, and he felt certain of its having the desired effect.
"Of course," she said hesitantly, "Nathalie warned me about you."
"Oh really?”
“She says there isn’t a woman alive you wouldn’t flirt with if you thought it would do you some good to do it—and even if you hadn’t a hope of success.”
“Charming girl, isn’t she?" He laughed in a tone that was nervous and curious at the same time, as though he feared what else Nathalie might have said about him. "Nathalie said that about me, did she? How hypocritical of her. Do I really come off as insincere?" He asked suddenly.
"Do you want the truth?" she asked.
"Of course."
"Then, yes."
"Ouch," he said, wincing. "Anything I can do to change your opinion of me?"
"I don't know. You could try being yourself."
"Oh, I'm always like this." He insisted.
"Really," she said, not believing it.
"You like me, though, don't you?" he asked; the idea pleased him.
"No."
"You don't?" The way he said it made it sound as though she was the first not to say yes. "Why not?"
"I don't know. Well, I suppose some people might find your attention flattering, but I like honesty. And even then, I don’t always approve of what I hear. I'm pretty cold-hearted and critical to those who aren't my family and friends."
"Whoever said I wasn't honest?" Erik repeated, scandalized. "It might surprise you to know that I'm not insincere. Actually I like people—but most of them seem more interesting when you first meet them." He admitted. "After a while, you just realize that you have nothing in common, but I highly doubt that applies to you.”
“Of course you’d say that—now.”
"I can’t help it; I like new faces.” He shrugged. “But once reality and routines kick in around here, there won't be much to talk about or much time to spend talking about it.”
“Fickle.” She interjected, nodding.
“Not fickle, practical. It's just they'll keep us pretty busy until our winter holiday break—and it's only three days. I like to enjoy my free hours, so I guess I've developed somewhat of a reputation for wild behavior. But you don't believe all you hear, do you?"
Erin didn't answer. "I think Ho-ling and Nathalie will be looking for me, so if you'll excuse me, I’ve got to be going." She turned and pressed through the crowd away to the right.
What just happened? Erik said to himself. He was not used to rejection, and normally he told himself to stay away from girls who were immune to his charm, but his own advice came too late in this case. He had to have her; he had to make her want him. There was nothing else to be done about it.
It's time to switch tactics, he thought, smiling with anticipation. No one ever turns me down when I’m at my best. A smile twisted the corners of his mouth. She’ll see.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Every morning, as certain as the proverbial sunrise, the wake up call at the UESRC sounded at precisely 0600. The mess hall, with some consideration, served breakfast a good fifteen minutes later.
The squadron unit that pulled breakfast duty arrived five minutes early to prepare breakfast and stayed an extra ten minutes past 0645 to clean up, all in preparation for future details on the small space cruisers they would someday occupy. After breakfast, each unit's schedule varied around time slots geared to maximize use of the facilities at every moment of the day.
The Blue Stripe second years, like the other pilot trainees, received their new year schedules shortly after the Convocation Ceremony ended. Their classes lasted from 0700 to 1100, at which time they took a break for lunch, the largest meal of the day. The Blue Stripes fell into the list of dinner duty cadets rather than lunch time duty cadets because their classes had been scheduled in the morning. For convenience, the staff divided classes into two sections that rotated subjects each of the six class days every week.
Monday and Thursday were Astrophysics and Chemistry, Tuesday and Friday were Biological and Environmental Sciences and Mathematics, and Wednesday and Saturday were History and Language sections. The only class that the pilot cadets attended daily was Military Strategy each morning for half an hour.
The Blue Stripes had free time until 1300, when Watanabe had reserved flight training time for them in the East Wing Astroport. The first years had spent an entire year training in new simulators but had not yet clocked in any actual flight time. This year the second years would begin to train in the actual planes they would fly once they finished training.
The first day proved intimidating for all of the cadets, especially since the complex landing mechanisms were not adjusted for raw recruits, and an additional twenty foot pedals and hand gears had to be taken into account.
After two hours of flight time each day, the unit retired to a simulation room and continued to practice simulated long-distance flying for forty-five minutes, after a fifteen minute energy snack break provided in the flight trainees' lounge.
At 1600, physical training hours commenced in the Physical Training Center. Four cadet squadrons shared the Center during each four hour time slot but rotated each of the four training disciplines daily, which consisted of running, gymnastics, martial arts, and swimming. The last
half hour of every session was dedicated to weight training and conditioning exercises.
At 2000, the evening squadron served dinner in the barracks' Mess Hall until 2100. Past that time, the cadets used the remaining hours until lights out at 2330 to study, relax, visit friends, or go to sleep early. Evening assignments were kept light and restricted to mathematical and scientific problems, but academic fundamentals in general were stressed more at the UESRC than the other training bases, mostly because UESRC squadrons were promoted more quickly into the upper echelon of the military hierarchy.
Specialization into the fields was also often delayed until the second level of training and many cadets even switched among piloting, engineering, and the research fields. So many of the pilot cadets had years of high level education prior to attending the Elite School. As a result, the UESRC staff who volunteered professor time at the School assumed their trainees had an excellent base of academic knowledge.
In fact, though second year education decreased in time it increased in quality from the first year, when five hours of revisionary classes were obligatory. The first year was usually the last year that cross-overs between specializations was possible, but some cadets specialized in more than one field. And no one could say what information might prove valuable in future contacts with the Charon aliens, or who would be in the right place at the right time when and if it became crucial to make a good first impression.
Piloting cadets who had difficulties keeping up in any of the subjects could attend tutorial sessions in the evenings or spend time on the library computers, where millions of books were stored in memory. Moreover, the Library was one of the few places where cadets from all years and all over the base met one another and made new friends, and few chose to activate the files from the outside via hand held computer grids.
Erin contrived to meet her friend Colleen at the library often, but they found little common experience to relate; most days Erin read alone or practiced her language skills in the soundproof cubicles. Usually she left ten minutes before lights-out and returned to find her roommates already sleeping in the quiet, darkened room. They did not know that Erin spent most of the night on long, rambling walks past old haunts. She still did not sleep much.
Even here in the UESRC, where her past began, Erin felt herself estranged from the very Earth beneath her feet. Something was wrong, and she didn’t know what.
She had long admired Colleen for her sensitivity to the spirit of past generations that lived on in everything natural surrounding them, from simple stone to manmade legacies, ruins, and ancient literature. Colleen attached her adoration to objects, to places, to the tangible. She loved beauty for its own sake and constructed a world of beauty around herself by the way she chose to regard beloved friends and places.
Erin had a regard for natural beauty, but she also saw a dark power in the Earth. The Earth itself was a reality independent of human life, and it tolerated the presumptuous activities of its tenants, the human race. Yet the Earth was cold, lifeless, indifferent. It was the only real eternity.
Erin often tried like Colleen to establish a certainty of her adoration for the planet in her own heart, and thereby gain the secrets the world had to offer those who sought its protection and love, yet she found she could not inherit this secret tellurian knowledge. She did not feel any tender current of affinity reaching out from the planet to aid one of its own. The Earth itself cried out in horror that she was a stranger to it, and perhaps even an enemy.
* * * * *
The light touch of the first snowfall fell over the UESRC in early November. All of the cadets rushed out after dinner into the wintry silence. They gathered on the astroport and the rolling, grassy clearing between the base and the neighboring forest to celebrate the annual snowball-throwing and snow angel tradition. Once covered with wet, clinging snow, the many white figures soon became indiscernible, and the chill air came alive with the flying clods aimed at random and at unrecognizable prey.
By chance, Erin and her friend Colleen met each other at the East Wing Gate and attempted to stay together but found themselves split apart in the mesh of activity going on; each was lost amid the mists curling up from the edge of the forest and the moving streams of human breath. It was snowing hard.
An hour or so passed but the crowds didn't diminish, despite the cold, despite the dark. There were intermittent cries of exhilaration, surprise, and triumph all around. Erin had just packed a hard snowball and was carefully aiming it at a boy cadet. He had just rushed past her and belted her with two snowballs, and she intended to catch him before he got away. Then someone in the astroport tower figured it was time to turn the spotlights on for the cadets gathered on the closed astroport runway.
Light descended upon the land and shimmered on the damp bodies and reflective panels of UESRC uniforms.
As the world around the cadets shunted into the light, a sudden crack of pain jolted through Erin's body like an electric shock. Boom, boom–her head throbbed with a deep thundering pressure that deadened her hearing. The cries of her compatriots wavered and dimmed to a distant howling. She could not even cry out.
Before a few seconds had passed, her vision clouded over, shrinking from the edges to the center and then disappearing into a white fog of nothingness. The searing pain was leaving, but it did not return her to the reality she knew.
Drifting vapors of muddling grey mist streamed before Erin and acted like a curtain, drawn over her by some divine power, until a field of snow solidified in front of her without warning, a tranquillity of pure white beautifully illuminated by intense sunlight, at last bright enough for her eyes to focus and blink normally.
Tumbling white flakes began to fall from the royal blue sky onto the tips of the trees on the horizon; the birch-like leaves sparkled with gold and rainbow colors, and ice clung desperately to thin, spidery branches and to the broad, exquisitely-formed leaves, stubbornly green and strong despite the sharp bite of the wind.
Erin's heart lurched in terror as sinister shadows appeared as blots of encroaching darkness upon the snow, grotesque, dark, and twisted–yet familiar forms, throbbing and shaking with inhuman excitement and anticipation. The objects that cast the shadows remained behind Erin, close as a mere step away, and she found that she could not turn around to face them.
Her movement slowed, and she stood helplessly frozen, staring across the field waiting for the unknown creatures to take her; then her vision sharpened, and the trees appeared closer, closer, until she could see the cells then molecules within them, swirling patterns of energy in a timeless dance of perpetual motion.
There was a feeling of icy venom in her mind–it began slowly to filter through her mind like an evil poison changing her will, her thoughts, her self. She felt it threatening to seize her and take her for its own, to make her as evil as itself...
A moment later she pulled her sight back from the tree. The haunting, delicately suspended leaves now glowed bright silvery-gold and green in the summer sun. The rushing song of a lively brook to her left made her turn. The brook tumbled over stones and fed into a small, rippling pond. Her movement restored, Erin spun in a circle in the shining forest, a beloved den of natural guardians carpeted with a mat of damp dead leaves and soft sponge with beads of dew that reflected the light. The oppressive feeling was gone. In its place was a wonderment of such proportions that she felt as though the entire world was a paradise.
Here, here was where she belonged! Kneeling to scoop up some crystal-clear water into her hands, she gazed at her reflection, a reflection which oscillated in the ripples and distorted her features. A noise from behind made her turn around toward a tall approaching shadow calling in unintelligible music. Such beautiful music! It echoed like clear water.
But without warning, the image of this paradise was swept away, and the sound became muffled by a seet
hing wind that lashed out to erase the memory...
"Erin, can't you hear me?" Erin blinked and realized that she was staring at Erik Ross, who had somehow found her in the throng of revelers. She wanted to cry. He mistook her expression for tenderness.
His handsome features were twisted into a worried frown, and he scratched his left cheek with the tip of his finger in a gesture of self-consciousness in the uncomfortable pause.
"I’m fine. I guess the light bothered my eyes." She turned away from his face to collect her thoughts.
A cacophony of sensations was entering her mind through the very air as trails of human motion sent atoms in different directions, and she was surrounded by external electromagnetic brain impulses that transmitted assorted scraps of images, messages to body limbs, thoughts, feelings, impulses, and connections of short term memory from those all around her. Directly behind her, the feelings came strong—concern, desire, fascination.
She sensed complex patterns, old memories present beneath the surface thoughts...
* * * * *
She was a little boy around five watching his mother singing in the kitchen of a small apartment in the Canadian region of Nova Scotia. He was playing with a velociraptor toy and two foot soldiers. His father had left after breakfast, and they were getting ready to go to the big building where he played with other children, where his mother had a room of important but off-limits things. The other children teased him because he was the smallest and youngest, especially Adrian with the curly hair.
But he would never cry; he fought back, but the others always grouped together against him. He didn't say a word to his mother—if he had she would notice something wrong—so he learned to hide himself behind a smile.
When he turned seven, the older children ganged up on him and broke his arm during play group, but he didn't tell anyone, not even his older brother Justin. The arm hurt so much later that his mother took him to a hospital where the doctor said he had almost left it too late to heal properly; then the old man put it in a light box that burned and froze his skin, gluing white bone pieces together again. Before God he cursed Adrian and Girard. He wanted them to pay.
The Osiris Invasion: Book Two of Seeds of a Fallen Empire Page 24