Chapter 9

It was eight… I mean, 2012 before we finally got back to the dormitory and into the conference room on the 4th floor of the Dorm. While we were trying our best to make the time set forth by the Sergeant, one of the girls in the middle of the line had tripped not too far from the Dorm. This caused a bit of a cascading effect, making it look like we decided to make a giant human ball in the middle of the sidewalk. Tom and I, luckily far enough back to avoid adding to the ball of human limbs, helped get folks to their feet, but the girl who had caused the topple, her name was Jennifer, looked like she had twisted an ankle - so he helped her limp her way back to the building.

The MTI’s holding the doors for us as we arrived took her off our hands, and after a quick inspection, told her she would need to go to the Medical Center and likely would be placed on hold a few weeks to heal. Jennifers look was dejected, and she starting crying into her hands. “Its only the first day…” I could hear her between quiet sobs.

While the MTI’s allowed us to escort her for a couple minutes, after their inspection they barked at us, “ Get back in line! You are suppose to be upstairs!”

We took that as a que and hurried to catch up. Hence, we ended up being a bit late, much to Sergeant Mayberry's chagrin.

“Ah, what do we have here! Its Lumberjack and his trusty sidekick, what was your name Trainee?” She yelled at us as we stumbled in, seeing everyone standing at the chairs around the auditorium.

The room was wide, looking much like a sphere instead of a traditional auditorium where everyone face a stage to listen to a speaker. In the middle was a small, circular platform, with a raised dais of some sort. Sergeant Mayberry was standing there, her eyes boring directly into us as there was only one entrance to the room from the looks of it, making it glaringly obvious if someone goes in or out.

We paused just inside the door, panting as we tried to catch out breath from running up the flights of stairs on our way up. “Uh… my name is James, James Weston Watson the Third, ma’am.”

Her eyebrows shot up, a look of surprise. “There are three jackasses in this world with that weird ass name? Are the other two late to every goddamn thing as well, or is that something unique to you?”

I flushed red, anger rising.

“Are you always so fucking rude, you damn bulldog?” I said, not thinking as the words left my mouth. While I wasn’t necessarily “attached” to my name, and my past with my father was checkered, my Grandfather had always been a very upstanding person. I didn’t remember much about him, but I do know I loved him, and he was always good to his grand kids. To be honest, looking back at this, I don’t really know why I snapped at her. Its almost like my mind went blank for a moment.

The look she shot me at that very moment sent a chill through my body. “Bulldog, eh?”

She stomped off the platform, making a beeline down the aisle to the door. I could see everyone in the rooms eyes watching her, almost like watching a car accident in slow motion.

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Her right hand shot up, looking almost like she was going to karate chop me or something. I would be lying if I said I didn't flinch. It snapped up so quickly and was suddenly pointed directly at the bridge of my nose.

“Trainee Shit-for-brains here thinks he has the right, no, the audacity to call me a bulldog! Well shit-for-brains, say that to me now!” He eyes tore into me, her knife hand barely an inch from the bridge of my nose.

I froze. What the hell was I supposed to do? Call her that now? What if I didn’t? Ah shit… my big mouth.

“Uh… I’m… Sorry, Sergeant!” I blurted out, not knowing what else I should do. I didn’t even know what these people could do to me, but hell if I would push that boundary on day one.

“Ah…” she grumbled low, “too afraid when I’m right here, huh?”

She started laughing, and suddenly her left hand landed squarely in the middle of my stomach. I doubled over, fighting to keep the sludge from dinner in my stomach. I remember thinking to myself as I fought the urge to puke, they can hit us?

She turned from me, and began walking down the aisle, everyone's attention squarely on Sergeant Mayberry now. Behind her my gasps continued, and I vaguely remember Tom patting my back, checking on me.

“You may not like me, but you will respect me, and you will respect our rules.” She was saying, walking down the aisle with her arms folded behind her. She knew she was in charge, and she carried herself like someone who had been doing it for many, many years.

“None of you came here against your will. You are all volunteering to put your mind, body, and soul on the line to serve your country. For that, you have our eternal gratitude, we need great Americans like each of you to keep our nation great, and to fight for the things that matter!” I had finally gathered myself enough to stand, paying attention to her as she started her way back up on the dias in the middle, her speech continuing.

“Part of this thing, the military, is the Chain of Command. It is the core of how things are done. My bosses boss tell him what to do, he tells me what to do, then I tell you all what to do. But respect is a core part of the entire thing - if I tell you to jump, you ask me where and how high. Your Non-Commissioned Officers, Field Officers, and further up the chain do not ask you to do things lightly; but when you are told to do things, you need to do them. Even something as simple as showing up on time.”

She turned at this, and started messing with a small holo-screen that was barely visible from where I was standing. “Trainee Lumberjack and Trainee Stupid Name the Third, you may take your seats. Everyone else, you may sit as well.”

I shot her a sharp look as me and Tom found ourselves the closest empty chairs, taking a seat. She paid no heed to us, as she continued flicking through screens and menus.

“You see, you signed yourself to service willingly, and thus joined something greater than yourselves. We are authorized to use any means short of killing you to mold you into the future force that we need. Things will become clear, and the first major step of this journey is your introduction to Theodore.”

With that, she flicked something on the screen, and with that the lights dipped low and suddenly there was… something on the stage with Sergeant Mayberry. It was hard to tell who, or what, it was supposed to be. It looked like the most androgynous human I could image; the face was vaguely feminine, pale white, with long eye lashes, and large green eyes. Its curly white hair was cut short, and it wore a purely white suit immaculately tailored to a figure that was slim, but impossible to tell what sex they were. They stood several inches taller than Sergeant Mayberry, her dwarvish stature and unpleasant looks at odds with the other figure on stage with her. When it spoke, it added more confusion, because the voice was almost like a hybrid of several voices at once - extremely melodic and pleasing to the ear, but impossible to replicate by a human voice.

“Hello Trainees, my name is Theodore. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” They said with an overly flourished bow.

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