Ghost Ranger

by Dayne Edmondson

  “Wait. She time traveled or something?”

  “Your uncle called it astral projecting. He said the druids told stories, which we always presumed were just myths, about projecting their consciousness forward or backward in time. Well, it seems it was true, in a sense.”

  “Did you tell her about her future?”

  “Yes, I did. I realized it was foolish and that it could possibly change things, but I told her. Then she did something that reminded me why I fell in love with her all those years ago. She smiled that irresistible smile and told me she would willingly sacrifice herself if it meant saving the future Federation.”

  My mind reeled at the revelation. “When she died, she knew she was going to die?”

  “In retrospect, I think she did.” My father sighed. “Thinking back, I remember the morning after, when she awoke with night sweats and brushed off my concerns, claiming nightmares. She also wouldn’t hear a word about not joining the fight. Of course, your uncle believes my memories were possibly altered by my interaction with her past-self but it doesn’t matter now. I still couldn’t save her, yet my guilt over her death was assuaged once and for all that day.”

  “Well, Orin isn’t going to come back from the dead,” I said. “How do I stop feeling guilty?”

  “Focus on the good that came from his death,” my father suggested. “Think about the calls for equality rising from across the Federation. Even the Empire is denouncing the actions of the governor.” He chuckled.

  I joined in with his laughter. “You know it’s morally bad when the Empire is denouncing it.” I forced a smile. “Thanks, Dad, I’ll try that.”

  “You’ll be honoring his memory, also, by joining the military,” he pointed out. “You can be part of a force responsible for protecting trillions of citizens.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said, pushing aside thoughts of Orin for the moment. The grief wouldn’t leave that easily, I knew, but my father’s words would make the grief bearable in the days to come, I thought. “So, when do I join the military?”

  Part Two

  Chapter 14

  Avylon II, the official military training planet of the Federation. I watched out the viewport from my seat as we neared it. It glowed in the light of its primary star, while the ships, shipyards and stations lay in orbit around it.

  Two months since my “death,” just over a month since my run-in with bigots on Xaros III and here I was, joining the Army.

  I turned to my companion. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  Terrence, dressed in civilian clothes, not a synth suit or weapon in sight, smiled at me. “Of course.” He handed me a chip. “Here’s your ID card, Rachel Halbert,” he spoke my new last name with deliberate emphasis. “It’s loaded with a significant amount of credits.”

  I smirked. “They do say my father is one of the wealthiest in the Federation. It’s the least he could do.”

  “Indeed. But remember to stick to your cover story.”

  I sighed. “Yes, my father is Decklin Halbert, the CEO of Elbion International, a multi-planetary shipping conglomerate headquartered on Galatia IV. My father was killed during the outbreak. I survived due to the brave action of Marines and want to give back by joining the Army.” I recited the details of my cover by rote, after being grilled by my guards and three FIA agents, none of them Isabelle as she was on mission somewhere, to make sure no cracks appeared in the cover. I brushed away a lock of blond hair and touched my cheek. They’d given me a program for my implant which rearranged my face. I now looked like, in my opinion, an uglier version of myself, and a stranger on top of it. But I was assured the change would fool facial recognition, while ocular implants changed my retinas and nanites re-drew my fingerprints. Absolutely nothing remained to connect me to my former self until I chose to revert it.

  “Good. Are you nervous about basic training?”

  “Considering you’ve told me nothing about it...a little,” I admitted.

  He smiled devilishly. “That’s the fun of it. You get to experience it all.”

  I rolled my eyes. Even Terrence was becoming more comfortable with me. In the months since the incident I’d become quite close with my guards. I felt a pang of regret that I was leaving them for a ten-week training program.

  Twenty minutes later we were docked and passing through security. I considered holding my breath while passing through the scanners, but my fears were unfounded. The FIA had done their job well. Security didn’t give me a second glance and didn’t question my identity in the slightest.

  Terrence passed through too, under the false identity of my rich Uncle Morris who’d inherited the business after my father’s death. He was my father-figure surrogate if any duties required it. He would stay on-planet for the duration of the training, until my graduation, to make sure no true danger happened to me.

  I’d been afraid that my guards would be punished after the debacle on Xaros III, but my father had been understanding. No one could have foreseen a horde of bigots waiting for me, and it didn’t do me any good to be kept in a gilded cage, safe from all dangers.

  “Well, kid, this is where we part ways,” he said, eying the entrance for recruits before meeting my gaze. “Don’t try to stand out, or the drill sergeants will find their new favorite person to pick on - you.”

  It was my turn to smirk. “Was that actual advice about what to expect?”

  He grunted, a slight upturn to his lip the only sign he found my joke amusing. “Call it a freebie.”

  I hugged him, which surprised me and might have surprised him, for he delayed putting his arms around me to return the embrace for a couple heartbeats. “Thank you,” I whispered while my head was next to his. “For everything.”

  “When you get done, you’ll be saluting me,” he said, changing the subject.

  I chuckled. “Until I restore my identity.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what rank you’ll hold then,” he admitted.

  “Supreme Daughter?”

  “Undead in Chief,” he said. “Maybe. I’ll get Phillip thinking about titles for you.”

  “I can’t wait,” I said. Without a glance back, I passed through the gate leading to the recruit processing center.

  THERE’S A SAYING IN the military - hurry up and wait. Well, I found out, the hard way, that motto is most definitely true. Over the next five hours I hurried from station to station where I waited. I endured poking and prodding for blood draws and physicals, interviews for mental stability and soundness of mind checks, citizenship and paperwork checks and more. Then of course I had to get my hair cut shorter. Not a buzz cut, not for girls, but still a lot shorter than I expected. Surprisingly, my being undead didn’t even draw a raised eyebrow from the intake coordinators. Then I realized why: there were hundreds of undead there.

  I’d missed it at first, but once I started looking for the signs, pale skin, lack of breath, enhanced agility and strength, and standing apart from the others, I found them quickly. Well, that didn’t take the Federation long to realize their potential as weapons. Who wouldn’t want super soldiers with strength and speed and near unlimited stamina?

  After passing all the tests, I assembled with the rest of the recruits in the assembly hall. While we waited, I decided to try to talk to my fellow recruits.

  One girl, standing in the corner, with tattoos, numerous piercings and a buzz cut, caught my eye. She looked to be around my age, and undead, judging by her super pale complexion. She watched me approach with a raised eyebrow.

  “Hello,” I said, more timidly than I wanted. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hi.” There, more confident.

  “What do you want?” the girl said, sneering.

  My confidence threatened to fail in that moment, but I forced a smile. “I’m Rachel. What’s your name?”

  “Get lost,” she said.

  “I...uh...noticed we’re both undead,” I continued, ignoring the opportunity to say “hi, get lost, nice to meet you,” like I expecte
d Phillip would do.

  “Yeah, so?” her tone suggested I had pointed out the sun was yellow. Then again, not all suns were yellow, in the Federation. It was more like I’d said space was cold.

  “Well, since we’re stuck waiting here, I figured I’d talk with someone.”

  “There are hundreds of ‘someones’ here,” she pointed out. “Go talk to one of them.”

  I almost turned to leave. Almost. Instead I took a deep breath, out of habit, and pushed ahead. “I don’t want to talk to them. You seem interesting. I want to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you seem interesting,” I repeated, trying not to sound as if I thought she were daft.

  “I’m not,” she replied.

  “Can I ask how you were turned?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. I’ll share mine if you share yours.” I cringed as I realized how cheesy that sounded.

  “Fine. You go first.”

  “Okay. I was at school and...” Shit, I’d almost told the real story. Too late now, so I’d have to improvise. “...the school was attacked by the undead, I was infected and then I found out my dad died. I went to live with my uncle, who is rich by the way. I decided to join the military to give back.”

  “How charitable of you,” the girl replied. “And it’s a boring story.”

  I gaped. She barely knew me and was insulting my storytelling skills. Thinking back, it was kind of a boring story. “Yeah, well, most true stories are boring.” Great comeback.

  The girl snorted and shook her head. “Whatever you say.”

  “I told you my story. What’s yours?” And what’s your name? I thought.

  She heaved a big sigh, out of habit, like me, and started speaking. “I was in the bathroom, at my school, when I started puking.”

  I cringed. “Yikes.”

  “Are you gonna give a commentary or shut up and let me talk?”

  “Sorry, continue.”

  “I passed out and, when I came to, I was in the middle of a field with a horde of other people. Our clothes were all torn and half of us were naked. It was embarrassing.”

  I knew the reason for that, and almost said as much, but then realized that would be knowledge this persona didn’t have. I kept to my word and stayed quiet.

  “It had something to do with the cure being dispersed in the air. Some cure, it gave us back our minds but couldn’t restore our bodies.”

  “You could be dead,” I pointed out. “Like permanently.”

  She glared at me. “That’s not helping.”

  “Sorry.”

  “From there, we were moved to refugee camps to be reunited with our families.”

  “Were your parents...was your family...?” I left the rest unsaid - she knew what I meant.

  “They all survived. Even my annoying little brother.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I guess. Except they survived and didn’t get infected.”

  “Ohhh.”

  “Yeah.” She frowned. “You can imagine their reactions when they found they had an undead daughter. Did you see those videos of the crowd at that high school a few weeks back?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I hedged. “I might have seen something about that.”

  “Well, my parents were a bit like that. They wanted nothing to do with the undead, or me. They moved off Galatia IV the first chance they could and left me behind. They left in the night while I was sleeping.”

  “Shit,” I whispered. That was horrible. I’d suffered physical wounds, but this girl suffered mental wounds as deep or deeper. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

  She shrugged, eyes focused on the floor. “It doesn’t matter. I was almost eighteen anyway. I was planning on hitting the star lanes right after graduation anyway.”

  “Yeah, but...,” I stopped. Pity wouldn’t help her in that moment. I shook my head. “Never mind.”

  “I ran into an Army recruiter at the refugee camp. Offered a bonus if I signed up. So, no money to my name, I signed up. And here I am.”

  “And your name?”

  “You’re persistent,” she observed.

  I offered a sheepish grin. “It is common courtesy.”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “Julianna.”

  I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Julianna.”

  “Yeah right,” she said, but shook my hand. “What about yours? Common courtesy and all that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Rachel.”

  The doors to the auditorium opened as the person we were waiting for, the battalion Captain, made his way into the room. He was a shorter man with pitch black hair and a handsome face. I turned my attention to him.

  “Recruits,” he began, his voice amplified by the sound system in the room. “Your attention please.” His voice suggested he wasn’t asking. “Form into lines.”

  The gathered recruits looked around like sheep in a field, unsure what to do.

  “Form up!” a drill sergeant at the front bellowed, un-amplified. His words were taken up by half a dozen other drill sergeants. “Straight lines!”

  “I guess we don’t have a choice,” I said to Julianna, shrugging.

  She groaned and rolled her eyes.

  “We knew what we signed up for,” I pointed out. “I think we do a lot of standing at attention in the Army.” Terrence hadn’t told me much, but I did know that, at least.

  The two of us made it to the end of the last line of recruits. If you could call them lines. They snaked like string tossed by a toddler willy-nilly. If I had to guess, the drill sergeants would punish us for our ineptitude later.

  “I am Captain Wilson, Battalion captain here at Camp Revery. You are here because you want to serve in defense of the Federation. We,” he gestured to the drill sergeants standing at attention in front of his dais, “are here to transform you from lackluster civilians into hardened, obedient soldiers.”

  I nodded. I did want to serve the Federation, though they didn’t know in what capacity. The Supreme Commander’s daughter was sure to have special duties. The children of the other Eternals all held important positions in the Federation. I would as well, one day. Had to survive basic training first, though, or no one would respect me.

  “You will embark upon a ten-week training course,” the captain continued. “These drill sergeants, among others, will guide you through basic training. Obey their every word or expect to be punished.” He let the word hang in the air for several long moments before continuing. “Once the training is complete, those who survive will continue on to their specialty training centers.”

  I shuddered at the way he said “survive.” Were people going to die during training?

  “Males and females will be in separate training camps, but we are also pleased to announce a further separation between undead and the living.”

  That caused a stir, as recruits looked among themselves, perhaps trying to identify who was undead and who wasn’t. It didn’t totally surprise me.

  “The reason should be obvious. The undead have...enhanced...speed, strength and endurance. It wouldn’t be fair to put them among the living. There will be four separate sections of the base - living men, living women, undead men, undead women.”

  “Why separate the undead?” one boy said in a whisper meant to be heard. “Can the females even get pregnant?”

  He asked a good question, something I hadn’t thought of before. But if Captain Wilson heard him, he gave no indication.

  “From here, you will pass through the doors behind me,” he indicated two large doors marked living and undead. “You will board transport shuttles that will take you to your assigned areas. You are not to leave your assigned area, under penalty of being thrown in the brig. No outside contact is allowed, including implants. Magic nullification techniques are employed to prevent use of magic. Those with magic will be allowed to use their magic when they move on to their specialty training.” He clapped. “That is all. Disper
se.”

  The ragged lines of recruits broke apart and headed toward their designated doors. “How bad can it be?” I asked Julianna.

  Chapter 15

  Cold mud splattered my face as I completed my twenty-third push-up.

  “You call that a push-up, maggots!” my drill instructor, Sergeant Ferrez, shouted at the top of her lungs. How she didn’t strain a vocal chord was beyond me. Practice, I suppose. “Just for your shoddy push-ups, give me twenty more!”

  I would have groaned, but I was too tired to care. These twenty-three push-ups had followed a twenty-mile run and one hundred sit-ups. The commander’s claim that the undead had unlimited stamina was shown to be a lie, or at least an exaggeration. While our bodies didn’t seem to need oxygen, our muscles still fatigued from use...just slower. One day some doctor would document just how different undead bodies were from the living, but for now basic training was our metric. Normal humans were asked to go on two-mile runs - we did ten, for example. And we were warned we’d be pushed even further as training went on. We were the first class, after all, so what they learned from us would be carried forward to future classes. An image of mice in a maze popped up in my mind’s eye. An apt analogy.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julianna keeping her face out of the mud. She seemed to have adapted to military life far faster than I had.

  I thought back to the day we’d dispersed into groups to be transported to our specific camp. We’d been cramped into a transport ship like sardines in a can, then told to run out of the transport. No walking here.

  Next, they’d given us an impossible task - we had to learn the names of every recruit on the transport in five minutes. Despite our best efforts, with every recruit seemingly shouting their name out in unison repeatedly, I’d barely learned the names of ten recruits at the end of the five minutes - out of over a hundred.

  After performing the obligatory twenty push-ups as punishment, they’d given us what little time left remained in the day to mingle with our fellow recruits and eat at a leisurely pace. Then we’d gone to bed...and found we were tricked.