Atlas Page 7

  "That's exactly right, you didn't do anything," the petty officer said. "You should have gone down when Astronaut Recruit Galaal asked. They needed you down there."

  "Yeah whatever." Nathan shoved a shoulder under the stretcher, finally taking up his share of the burden. "Let's go before that asswipe throws some other stupid citation at me." He said that loud enough for the petty officer to hear. Probably not the best idea to insult the officers who were grading you.

  When we finally got back, the test was reset—different people were assigned as rescuers, scouts, casualties, corpsmen and defenders. We repeated the test four times, and at the end of it I'd played nearly every role. The total cumulative extraction times of each team were tallied, and Yellow team edged us out by about three minutes. As reward, no member of Yellow had to carry a spacebag to the next evolution.

  I ended up being saddled with one of the spacebags again, and it was all I could do to concentrate on the man in front of me and listen to the cadence to ensure I kept formation.

  "Everywhere we go-o."

  "Everywhere we go-o."

  "People wanna know-o."

  "People wanna know-o."

  By the time we arrived at our destination through the blizzard, my vision was filled with floaters and I just wanted to collapse. I staggered inside the building and tossed the spacebag into the pile beside the door.

  "Jeez, Rade, you look terrible." Alejandro tossed aside his own spacebag. He had icicles on his eye-brows.

  "You know it." I gave him a fist bump.

  I paused to take in my surroundings, and I realized where we were: the Weapons Simulator building.

  The rangemaster came forward, the stock of a simulated rifle slung over his shoulder. We mustered immediately, and he paced among our front rank. "So. Those darn Sino-Koreans have struck again. Tore a hole in your hull during a surprise attack, they did. And guess what? The goshdarn varmints have boarded. You'll have to wear your SCBAs. Not safe with a hull breach on the ship, it ain't. Artificial gravity is still active though, and the radiation shielding is still up, so you don't need full hazmat suits. Lucky you. I know, it don't make sense, because if there were an actual hull breach you'd need the full suits. But hey, this is Battle Stations, and they don't want you to use the full suits till later tonight. Shooting with an SCBA on will be tricky enough as it is, don't you worry.

  "Anyhoo, you're going to shoot twenty simulated rounds at the target, while observing full safety precautions, you hear? I don't want any mistakes. I'm not in the greatest of moods tonight, so I might just give out three strikes for a minor infraction. Anyway, you've all fired rifles before so this should be a cakewalk: Don't be letting down your teammates by missing targets or failing to observe safety protocols. And don't be letting the sights and sounds of the battle distract you. Show us what you're made of! Show us your mettle! I want you to prove to me that you know what honor, courage, and commitment mean. Red team shoots first. Go!"

  We were given one minute each to don a SCBA (Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus). Miss any step, or fail to complete all steps within the allocated sixty seconds, and we got a strike. We went forward in groups of fifteen.

  I was in the group that went first. I approached the SCBA bracket, placed my arms through the shoulder straps, released the SCBA from the bracket, cinched the waist belt, tightened the shoulder straps, opened the main cylinder valve, donned the face plate, slid my protective hood up, pulled on a helmet, secured the chin strap, connected the regulator to my face piece, and finally activated the air flow and Personal Alert Safety System.

  The rangemaster and his assistant moved down the line, checking us. A lot of other recruits got strikes for missing a step. Not me. Surprisingly, Nathan completed all the steps perfectly and on time as well.

  I grabbed a simulated rifle from the weapons case. These utilized a laser light pointer instead of live rounds, but we still had to observe full safety precautions.

  Nathan apparently missed the part about observing safety precautions, because when he grabbed his simulated rifle, three recruits, including myself, were in his line of fire before he lowered it.

  "Recruit Filberg!" the rangemaster roared.

  Nathan actually jumped.

  "Strike for not observing proper safety precautions!"

  Nathan slouched, an expression of disgust on his face.

  PO1 Rao came forward. "That's what, two, recruit?"

  "Yes, sir," Nathan said sulkily. He gave me an evil glance, like he was implying it was my fault for not getting out of the way of his rifle.

  My turn came, and I aimed at the distant targets fifty feet away. White lights were flashing at random, and artillery simulators were going off. A loudspeaker filled the air with the sounds of gunfire.

  Okay. I can do this.

  I fired my twenty simulated shots and my targets were scored. I didn't hit them all, but I did pass.

  The one thing about SCBAs I didn't really like was how the facemask restricted your peripheral vision: As I walked back toward the weapons case, I tripped on something I didn't see, and fell to the ground. I looked up and saw my rifle was pointed right at RDC Bowden.

  "Recruit Galaal!" the RDC roared. "Strike for not observing proper safety precautions!"

  I scrambled to my feet, and saw that Nathan was standing right beside me, giggling. I was fairly certain he was the one who'd tripped me.

  Thanks to him, I had only one strike left.

  The remaining recruits completed the shooting evolution (Yellow beat us), then we mustered and ran back to Building 1312. The cold and blowing snow were really starting to get to me. Somehow I'd ended up with a spacebag yet again. I began missing steps in the march, and I couldn't follow along with the cadence. I was going to mess up the formation.

  I was going to fall.

  I was going to fail.

  And then I felt the weight shift. Someone grabbed the bag from me while I jogged, from behind. I glanced back to thank the recruit.

  It was Alejandro.

  We finally reached 1312.

  "There's been a spill in the loading dock," PO1 Rao said. "Some fuel ship broke away before we could untether the line, so now we got Geronium radiation flooding decks three to five, and the anti-rads are down! The berthing quarters are on deck four, and it's your job to go in there and get the casualties the hell out. You'll be going in fully suited boys and girls. As for those of you chosen to be casualties, well, rad levels in there are enough to mutate your offspring for generations to come. Wouldn't surprise me if some of you grew a third eyeball by this time next year."

  "He's joking, right?" Alejandro said.

  "Show me honor, recruits!" PO1 Rao said. "Show me commitment. Show me courage!"

  We donned hazmat suits with SCBAs overtop. I wasn't sure if those flimsy suits would have protected us against actual nuclear agents, but that was Battle Stations for you.

  PO1 Rao split us up into six-person extraction parties. Again Nathan was assigned to my party.

  Rao was going through the line, inspecting our gear. When he got to my group he paused.

  "Recruit Filberg!" PO1 Rao said. "Third strike! You're out."

  "What?" Nathan said. "Why? What the hell did I do?"

  PO1 Rao smiled derisively. "You didn't fully open your main cylinder valve. Remove your gear and go see the RDC to talk about your rollback."

  "You're wrong," Nathan said. "My HUD shows two green lights! Wait, now it shows a yellow light." He reached back, and touched the valve. "This isn't fair! Someone tightened the valve on me!" He gave me his worst scowl, then he sulkily moved to the side to doff his gear. Honestly, I was glad to see him go.

  Alejandro gave me a wicked grin.

  "You didn't," I told him.

  He winked.

  When the evolution was done, the scores were tallied between Red and Yellow team. We'd missed two casualties, but the Yellows had missed four.

  "What a terrible bunch of recruits you are," PO1 Rao said. "Some of th
e worst I've ever seen. How would you like it if you were one of the casualties abandoned to the radiation? This is the UC Navy! No one is left behind, you hear me? No one! Where's your honor? Where's your courage? Where's your commitment? None of you deserve to pass Battle Stations. Not a single knucklehead among you! Muster, you maggots."

  He made us sprint in formation around the base. I didn't have to carry a spacebag this time around, luckily.

  The wind was blowing hard, and I noticed a few of the women were crying. One of them was carrying a spacebag. It was Tisha. I thought she was going to fall any second. Rao's words echoed in my mind. "No one is left behind."

  Like Alejandro had done for me, I slid over and took the burden from her. I regretted that instantly, because I was already exhausted and I almost staggered under the weight. But the smile she gave me was priceless.

  I scanned the division for Shaw but couldn't see her in the blowing snow. She was on Yellow team, so I hadn't been able to keep tabs on her. I hoped she was all right. I hoped she hadn't been rolled back.

  The evolutions continued all through that night. We had to abandon ship, fight a fire, move heavy magazines from one part of a ship to the other, and carry a one hundred fifty pound dummy through the confidence course while wearing hazmat suits and SCBAs.

  When it was finally over, twelve hours later, we were all utterly exhausted.

  As we jogged back to Building 1312, the storm abated and the sun came up.

  I don't think I'd ever been so happy to see a sunrise in my life.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A week later our recruit division stood at attention for the graduation ceremony. This was the first time we'd ever worn our tailored uniforms, and it felt good. A lot of us had to pin or tape our uniforms around the belly area, especially the women—most of us had lost an inch around the waist in the four weeks since we were measured. The Brass should've ordered the robots to use their cut-on-demand technology to tailor the clothing for us now rather than four weeks ago. Ah well, at least we'd finally exchanged our "recruit" insignia hats for Navy ball caps.

  On the whole, the graduation ceremony went well. The stands were full of visiting friends and families, and they all cheered when the band played "Anchors Aweigh."

  That song, and those cheering families, made me feel a bit lonely. I didn't have any family to cheer me on.

  No. That wasn't true.

  I had Tahoe and Alejandro. Ace and Shaw. Who needed a cheering section when I had them?

  When it was all over, RDC Bowden had us stand in one final muster backstage, where he gave a speech. I heard several people comment later that it was the most brilliant, inspiring thing they'd ever heard.

  Unfortunately I don't remember a word of it.

  Well, except for the last bit.

  "Bravo Zulu, division 004," Bowden said, his voice thick with grudging respect. "Bravo Zulu. You've demonstrated that you understand the true meaning of honor, courage, and commitment. The UC Navy salutes you. As of this moment, you are all Astronaut Apprentices. You know what that means, don't you? Liberty call."

  We cheered.

  "That's right," Bowden said. "Now settle down. You only have thirty-six hours on liberty, so don't get all excited for nothing. It's going to go by before you can even blink, trust me. Now you may think liberty means freedom, and going by the strict dictionary definition of the word, that's true. But in the military, we have our own definition for certain words, and liberty, well, its meaning varies with the circumstance. For this particular liberty, you're going to stay within fifty klicks of the base. You're not going to consume alcohol. You're not going to drive any type of motor vehicle or flying craft. And you're going to wear your uniform at all times. You're UC Navy now, goddammit, and you're going to let the world know it. Now get out of here. Dis-missed!"

  The RDC raised a halting hand as I walked past him. "I'd like a word with you four, please." He was looking right at me, Ace, Alejandro, and Tahoe.

  I glanced at Shaw, but she was already rushing back to the drill deck to visit her friends and family. With a sigh, I followed Bowden.

  When we reached his office, Bowden shut the door. He sat down at his desk and put up his feet. His black shoes were polished so well I could almost see my reflection in the faux-leather. He slipped a baseball glove onto one palm and tossed a softball into it with the other. The image strangely reminded of Mito, twirling his Baoding spheres, readying himself to pronounce judgment.

  "The four of you have signed up for spec-ops," Bowden said, nonchalantly.

  "Yes sir!"

  He smirked. "I didn't say you could answer me. Drop, please."

  We dropped and did pushups. Ah Bowden. He just had to show us he still cared.

  "Spec-ops." Bowden sounded like he was amused. I didn't dare look up, or pause my pushups. "The Navy MOTHs. Do you have any idea of what you're getting into? Of course you don't. I'll tell you firsthand, I've seen a lot of recruits come through here, hoping they had what it took to join the spec-ops. Dreaming about piloting those newfangled ATLAS mechs. And you know what? Almost all of those dreamy-eyed recruits washed out.

  "Some of those failures went on to other postings in the fleet. But most dropped on request. Ended up deported. They were broken, you understand. Right down the middle. Spirits split in half. It's a sorry sight to see an apprentice destroyed like that. A sad, sorry sight.

  "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'll give you all a chance to say no. A chance to save the Navy, and yourselves, from going through all the trouble. I'm going to offer you a fleet posting to any starship of your choice. You'll be an undesignated astronaut, but at least you won't be broken. Tell me, do you really want to leave the Navy two months from now as a shell of the man you once were? Or do you want to leave on your own two feet at the end of your contract, as a full citizen with a topped-up bank account, and pride swelling in your breast? Don't throw away your Navy careers on some unattainable dream. If you accept my offer, I promise you'll leave this room with your dignity intact. No one will look down on you. Least of all your fellow apprentices."

  He remained silent for a few moments, like he was waiting for one of us to capitulate. But none of us said a word. All I heard from my companions were stuttered exhalations as they worked through the pushups.

  "Mr. Galaal," Bowden said abruptly. "What do you think?"

  I paused, and glanced up. Didn't meet his eyes. I was too well trained for that. "I want to be a MOTH, sir!"

  "I was afraid you'd say that." He asked the other three the same question, and got the same answer.

  Bowden sighed. "All right, all right. I did my duty. Did everything I was told to do. I tried, I really did. I'll digitally sign the necessary documents. You'll start Pre-BSD/M as soon as the next evolution starts. I wish you luck, I really do. But luck has nothing to do with it. Dismissed."

  As soon as we got outside, Ace started chattering away. "Sheesh. That was almost as bad as the session with the job counselor dude back at entrance processing. They really don't want people becoming spec-ops, do they? But I guess we're in now. They couldn't break us, though they tried. Welcome to the most elite spec-ops unit in the galaxy, people!"

  "Don't celebrate yet," Tahoe said. "We haven't even started MOTH training."

  "Oh I know." Ace was grinning. "And it's gonna be brutal. I can't wait!"

  "I can." Alejandro had his arms crossed, and like me and Tahoe, he was shivering in the cold. The sweat from the impromptu PT didn't help. "Not sure how much more of this crap I can take. I watched some spec-ops training vids on the Net. Ace is right, it's brutal."

  I glanced at Alejandro. He'd come far these past eight weeks, and I barely recognized him anymore. He'd never really been fat, but his face was definitely leaner now, the hollows of his cheeks and the outline of his jaw clearly visible. His eyes still had that haunted look, though.

  The look of a man who had seen his entire family gunned down.

  I put my arm around him. The thought of losi
ng him to the training wasn't something I could even contemplate. "You'll do fine, Alejandro. You always make it through."

  He sighed. "I don't know, Rade. I'll try, I really will."

  "Don't tell me that." I put him in a headlock. "Say you'll make it. Say you'll become a MOTH. Come on, say it!"

  The headlock was a mistake. I'd misjudged how strong he'd become these past few weeks, and he easily broke out of it and slammed me against the wall, wrenching my arm behind my back. Though the Navy hadn't given us any hand-to-hand combat training, he knew how to fight. We were still Dissuaders at heart, after all.

  I tried to tap out, but he told me, flatly, "There is no tapping out."

  When Alejandro finally let me go, I went back inside, looking for Shaw on the drill deck, where the other apprentices were socializing with their families. The band was playing some sappy, upbeat tune.

  I saw her right away. She was talking to someone I'd never seen before, a man roughly our age, dressed in civilian clothes.

  When I went to the two of them, Shaw stiffened.

  "Rade," she said, grinning forcefully. "This is my fiancé." She introduced me to her man, but I forgot his name instantly. I was too dumbfounded. She'd never mentioned him before. Not once.

  "Nice to meet you," I said, barely able to function. "Shaw—" I lost my train of thought. I tried again. "Shaw told me all about you. Says you're the man she always dreamed of marrying."

  He rested a possessive hand across her lower back. "Sounds like my girl talking! And she's the best woman a man could ever dream of in return, believe me." He planted a juicy kiss on her cheek.

  I played at smalltalk for a while, coercing out the smiles and the laughs as best I could, but I was dying inside. Eventually I managed to excuse myself.

  Morale, Welfare and Recreation provided a few tickets to Saturday's game in New Chicago, and Ace snatched them up. Even though they couldn't get into the game, a lot of other recruits tagged along with us to the city, bringing their family members on the train. Ace gave Shaw and her fiancé two of the game tickets, so I was forced to endure more torture as she tagged along. I almost gave up my tickets so I could sulk on base instead, but I decided I wasn't going to miss out on seeing a UC city for the first time.