Chapter 11

Tom and I shuffled back to our room, following the long line of our new brothers and sisters as we all returned to our rooms. I noticed as we followed silently behind the group that each hallway had one MTI standing at the end. It was a bit eerie, but I didn’t pay much mind to it as we got back to our room.

Tom entered before me, sitting heavily on his cot and letting out a long sigh. I shut the door, and took a spot on my cot opposite of him as well. I grimaced in plan as I flopped down, the pain from my stomach coming back to remind me of my stupidity.

I looked across to my new friend. He looked like he had aged 10 years just today, lines on his face appearing that I hadn’t noticed earlier. I wondered if I looked the same?

This is certainly not what was sold to me by the recruiter. He made it sound like we were jumping in, and would be kicking ass immediately. But truthfully, I fooled myself in a way. I went back to the memory of my Dad again, and really thought of how he looked hooked to all those monitors and machines, and suddenly it made a lot more sense. In a lot of ways, it was a bit worse, knowing that he - like myself - signed up to have that done to him. Did he also have no choices? Maybe one day I could ask him.

But I felt for those who had no inkling of what they were getting themselves into signing that dotted line. Maybe they could find a way out of this.

“Tom, you ok?” I asked, genuinely worried.

Tom looked up at me, concern etched across his face.

“I… I don’t know. I just thought I would be goin’ in, kicking some ass, do my tour and get home. But… ports? Surgery? I wasn’t expectin’ none of that. They said we would be fine, but…”

I nodded, “ Yeah, they don’t tell you that part. The only reason I sort of knew about it was my Dad was in the Navy, and I saw what they did to him one time. Caused me a lot of nightmares as a kid, not going to lie.”

Tom looked almost like he was going to be sick at that.

I shook my head, smiling reassuringly. “No, no, don’t worry! It was sort of my fault. He had a locked room in our military issued housing, and he left it cracked on accident one day. I sort of… stumbled in, you know? I didn’t understand it, you know. If anything, that briefing helped you know… like there was a reason for it.”

That seemed to help Tom a bit, his shoulders relaxed a bit, and he looked at me with… sympathy?

“I’m sorry you had to see that brother. So was it as… ghoulish as I’m imagin’?”

I looked down thoughtfully, then stared him in the eyes. “I… guess it wasn’t as bad looking back now. Its just a lot of tubes and things running into you.”

Tom nodded, thoughtfully.

“Mmm… I guess.” Tom said, his gaze distant like he was thinking. “I wonder if its reversible afterward, ya know?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I lost touch with my Dad. I don’t even know if hes in anymore.”

That look of sympathy returned, “I’m sorry brother… that must be hard.”

I waved it away, “Don’t worry about it. Its something I don’t think about too much.”

That was the first time I lied to Tom. To this day I regret it, but having known him less than a day… I didn’t know how vulnerable I wanted to be with someone I barely knew.

He nodded, getting up from his cot and walking over to the closet. He pulled out his bag, and started to unpack. Seemed like a good idea, so I followed suit. We spent the night in silence, trapped in thoughts we didn’t care to share at the time, and making our room feel like home for the next 8 weeks.

The last thing I remember from that night before we turned out the lights was Tom putting a small picture up next to the lamp on the small table next to his cot. It showed a smiling woman, and what looked like a young boy. It was at that point that I realized Tom must be married. I remembered what he said earlier, “Taking care of others is the most important part of being human!” as the darkness took me.

The next four weeks passed very much the same; we woke, assembled, and did physical training like we were going to be olympic athletes. Running laps, push ups, sit ups, obstacle courses, you name it they put us through it. These periods were occasionally punctuated by physical violence; the MTI’s would hand out slaps and punches like they were fist shaped candies anytime we spoke back, snapped at them, or even gave any bit of resistance to what we were told. At night, we would be given holo-tablets with mandatory readings like chain of command, ranks, and more general military knowledge to prepare us for integration.

By the end of that final week, we were barely recognizable. I suddenly had abs, and anytime I was told to do something by one of the Sergeants, I did it without hesitance. I would just think back to Sergeant Mayberry's punch, and while I was so much stronger than I was when I had first arrived, I didn’t dare tempt that fate again.

Tom looked like he had shed about half his weight, becoming much more lean than he was initially. But he was still as strong as a damn bull. There was one time, while doing some obstacle course training, I tripped; he basically grabbed me, and fireman carried my ass to the end even though I was literally screaming for him to put me down. Tom was easily the most driven of us, doing everything with extra gusto. He excelled so much that he was named the Trainee in Charge whenever we were left without an MTI to watch us. He definitely had the natural charisma needed for such a role.

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The final night before week 5 started, we were gathered into the auditorium once more. We filed in, standing in front of our seats, waiting for the instructions to sit that we knew were coming. Of the 46 of us whom I started with, 37 of us had made it to this point. Of the 9 who “fell out” 4 were due to a variety of injuries, 2 had “failed to adapt” being removed for constantly interrupting good order, and the last 3 had just disappeared between days, no reason given to the rest of us. We knew better than to ask, the MTI’s were very forthcoming when someone was removed for good reason, and if they didn’t give a reason…

As we waited, silently staring at the center dias who introduced us to this new world, I could hear the doors slam open. All eyes turned to the entourage that entered, led by the very first Officer I had ever seen.

He wore the same fatigues as the rest of us, but instead of wearing blue and black rank on his sleeves, he had two shining silver leafs on the lapel of his shirt. If I remembered from my studies, this was an O-5, a Lieutenant Colonel in Air Force terms. It was a bit odd to me, as we had to learn the ranks of all the branches, but while the same structure was in place between all the branches the names could change based on which branch they belonged to.

His hair was an ashen grey, punctuated by his natural black color. It was in a high and tight style, looking much like everyone in the room; every week we were given the same high and tight haircut, with the females being given a short bob cut leaving their hair shorter than shoulder length.

He had incredibly serious features; deep set blue eyes, thick eyebrows, deep creases on a face that looked like it rarely smiled. Most interestingly, the right side of his throat, leading down into his collar, was… metal. He was augmented, whirring actuators and small mechanical components could be seen moving even from where I was standing.

As he made his way onto the dias, his entourage surrounded him on the floor, turning to face us. They were all MTI’s, Staff Sergeants or Technical Sergeants in rank, though I did not recognize them. And all of them carried some sort of weapon in their hands; it looked a lot like a pistol, but there was a visible blue glow to the aft end of the barrel. It was then that it dawned on me; these must be plasma weapons. They were extremely rare, and only available in military applications, but I vaguely remembered… weren’t these supposed to be banned?

During World War III, plasma technology was extremely new. Like many technologies, weapons were one of the first things to me made from it. But they were found to not only be incredibly unstable, blowing up from overheating or being hit by projectiles, but they were almost impossible to defend against. The supercharged blobs of plasma could burn through basically any conventional defense. They were so destructive, it was signed into law that the plasma weaponry that had been made would be heavily controlled, banned for any civilian purpose, and only be used in select applications.

What made this guy so important he needed to be protected by half a dozen folks armed with weapons that, by all accounts, they shouldn’t be using?

As he spoke, it broke me from my reverie, his voice sounding almost like mechanical gears given a male tone.

“Good evening Trainees,” he rumbled, everyone looking his way.

A resounding, strong “good evening, sir!” echoed back at him, a smile suddenly climbing onto his face.

“I’m glad to see you all here, and that you have made it through your first four weeks here at Lackland. I am Lieutenant Colonel Alex Sumpter, the commander of the 323nd Training Squadron here. I want to be the first to congratulate you on making it this far, and to beginning your integration tomorrow!” With that he began an applause, which was echoed by his guardians, and the few MTI’s scattered around the room.

That brought a bit of a blush of pride to me. This was the first time I felt… accomplished, like taking the first step on a long road you know you needed to take. It was a step, but it was the right direction, and the way was clear.

After the applause died off, the Colonel began speaking again. “These first weeks your Sergeants have been keeping an eye on all of you, and in the Military we recognize those among us who exemplify what we need. Each of you is a leader, and each of you will go on to do amazing things. But a few of you have stood out, and so I’m here to personally say thank you to those few before you continue your journey.”

He nodded down to the front row, and Sergeant Mayberry was there, taking her place next to the Colonel. She was holding what looked like three small, black boxes, edged in silver. It was hard to tell, but they looked like something was on the faces of them, but it was impossible to tell from where I stood.

She handed him the first box, and whispered into his ear. He nodded, clearing his throat as he spoke again. “The first Trainee I want to recognize is Anna Moore! Come up here please, and everyone give her applause!”

Anna was a tall, lanky girl, with raven black hair, a thin pretty face, and extremely large glasses. When I first saw her, I almost thought of that monster called Slenderman I had seen while poking around on the internet, but if slenderman was do-able. She was frequently the fastest of us these past several weeks, often lapping me and Tom on runs. She was generally reclusive, eating by herself, and a woman of few words.

Anna came up to the stage, and it was very obvious she was embarrassed. She had her arms crossed over her stomach, and she looked at the ground as she took her place next to Sergeant Mayberry.

“Trainee Moore, I’m told you are quick as the wind, exemplifying fitness for the Squadron. Additionally, you have broken several records here, did you know that?”

Anna tried to shrink in on herself, almost looking like she was going to pass out. She shook her head in short back and forth motions.

Colonel Sumpter smiled at her, “Well you did, and for that we want to award you.”

He gently extended his hand with the box in his palm, and Anna reached out timidly, taking it. She didn’t open it, just letting her hand drop holding the item.

“Congratulations, give her an applause!” As the room began clapping, Anna took that as a cue to get off stage. I saw as she got back to her seat, she then opened the box. Her eyes went wide, as the other two near her did as well.

“Next up, this award is for someone who your sergeants have deemed is a natural born leader! Trainee Tom Gilian, come up to the stage!”

More applause as Tom, standing tall with his signature goofy smile, took his place. He received the same box, but instead of hurrying away, he snapped a salute at the Colonel whom returned it with just as much gusto. Tom looked like he was about to burst, hurrying back next to me with his prize.

Resuming his place next to me, I elbowed him. “Congrats my friend!” I whispered to him.

Toms smile didn’t falter, he nodded, and then raised the small box in his palm so I could see it. Like I could see before, it was a small black box lined in silver, roughly a few inches wide and thick. On the lid was engraved the Great Seal of the United States, as I learned from our nightly readings, an eagle with arrows in one claw, and a branch in the other. As he opened the lid, inside was what looked like a military ribbon. As Tom plicked it out, he turned it around, and on the back there was a sort of bar code. He turned his eyes toward me, his look asking me “do you know what this is?”

I shook my head silently, and Tom returned the item to its box, shutting the lid in time for the last name to be called.

“Lastly, Trainee Bryce Middleton, come to the stage!”

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