Dragon Team Seven

by Toby Neighbors

  Nick looked at his friends. He knew instantly that they would take the tests just for a free meal.

  “Alright,” Nick said. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 5

  Sal the recruiter was good to his word. He set up the scanner and ran each of them through in less than an hour. The written and verbal tests were more involved and required more time. Nick was logged into an AI terminal, which ran a series of tests, from general knowledge to timed response to audible commands and finally spatial puzzles. Nick had no idea how he’d scored, but the tests weren’t difficult. An hour after he started, he was completely finished. He joined his friends in the small back room of the recruiting office. A large monitor was showing sports highlights, and a small feast of Chinese food from a nearby restaurant had been set out.

  They ate and talked, cracking jokes and reveling over the rich food that was a genuine treat. The protein wasn’t real chicken or beef, but it was a high-quality soy substitute. The sauces were flavorful, the rice and noodles filling. All in all, it was much better than anything served at the ULU cafeteria. They didn’t talk about the possibility of actually joining the military. Until Sal returned, they were just five friends sharing a good meal away from the wretched conditions of the dormitory.

  “Good news,” Sal came breezing into the back room, holding up a remote. He hit a button and all five of their test results flashed onto the wall monitor. “You all passed. Say the word, gang, and I can have you on a shuttle at oh-seven-hundred hours in the morning.”

  Nick looked at his friends. He understood the tactic of buying them a meal and giving them time to enjoy it. That one act of freedom from the dreary existence of the ULU made going back to that life almost unbearable.

  “We need a few minutes to talk, Mr. Bernard,” Nick said.

  “Of course. You guys talk and finish your meal. We’ve got time,” Sal said.

  He left just as quickly as he had come in, but the test results were still displayed on the wall screen. Nick looked and saw the words ACCEPTED FOR SERVICE stamped across the pictures that had been taken of them during the test.

  “I thought we would have more time,” Nick said.

  “I doubt we have to make the decision right now,” Jules replied.

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Ember said. “I can’t stand the thought of going back to that filthy dorm. It’s not safe.”

  “And joining the military is?” Kal asked, his skepticism back in full force.

  “No,” Ty said. “It’s not safe. But at least we know it’s coming there. Some of the guys I work with in the yard have torn muscles. Some can’t even stand up straight. But they kept nailing those pallets together, hour after hour. I saw a guy shoot a nail right through his hand. The first aid supervisor used super glue on the wound and sent him back to work.”

  “There’s really no telling what those Syndicate thugs are going to do, either,” Ember said. “They’ve probably gone through our lockers already.”

  “Well, I for one won’t miss sewing zippers into denim all day long,” Jules said.

  “Or smelling like curdled milk,” Ember said. “I can smell the protein plant in my dreams now.”

  “The real question is: does Elysium exist?” Kal asked. “For all we know, once we’re off-world the Proxy can do anything they want to us. Who would ever know?”

  “It’s a risk,” Nick agreed. “But to be honest, I can’t imagine it being worse than this. I’ll risk some danger for a few years if it gets us out of the ULU.”

  “We’re talking about war,” Kal said. “Not just the possibility of a little danger, but trying to survive for five years in constant, grave danger.”

  “We’re survivors,” Ty said. “Besides, five years of danger versus fifty or a hundred years in the factories…I gotta think the odds are better off-world.”

  “Not if you’re dead,” Kal said.

  “If we stay, what kind of life will we have?” Nick asked. “One way or another, we’ll pay the Syndicate. With inflation rising so much, odds are we might never earn enough to get out of the dorms. If we do, we’ll be old and life won’t get much better.”

  Nick was thinking of his own parents. His father was one hundred and thirty-seven years old. The average life span since the Peregrinantes had traded health technology to humanity was two hundred and twenty-five years. But it seemed to Nick like they had been given more time and less life in the bargain.

  “I’m in if you are,” Ty said.

  “Me too,” Ember said.

  “I’m going,” Nick said. “I can’t stay here. I can’t go back to the bottling plant…I just can’t. I’m sorry, Kal.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jules asked Kal.

  “I’m not happy about it, but I’ll stay with the group,” he said softly.

  “Me too,” she agreed.

  “Then we’re going?” Nick asked. “All of us?”

  “We go,” Kal said. “But we stay together and watch each other’s backs. Even if they offer us something better. Promise me that much.”

  “I can do that,” Nick said. “I promise to stay with you guys.”

  “We’re family,” Ty said.

  “Always,” Ember and Jules said at the same time.

  “Go get Sal. I want to do something with that bonus before I go off-world,” Kal said.

  The thought of the bonus was enticing. A hundred thousand credits weren’t riches, but it was better than two weeks pay at the ULU before taxes, dues, and fees. It would take them years to save that much in the ULU, even if they weren’t bullied into paying protection money. Nick opened the door and found Sal waiting at his desk.

  “We’ve made up our minds,” Nick said.

  “Good,” he replied. “What’s the word?”

  “We’re in.”

  Chapter 6

  Much like the last day of school, everyone went their separate ways after retrieving their belongings from the dormitory. They turned in their ID badges, reported that they were leaving their jobs, and set out into the city.

  Kal spent the night in a hotel overlooking the ocean. Ty went to the night clubs downtown. Jules went to say goodbye to her old boyfriend. And Ember just rode the city transit all night, watching humanity as the train glided along the suspension track.

  Nick had plans for his bonus, which took him back to his family’s tiny apartment. His mother and father were home, sharing their one meal of the week. Nick knocked on the door, even though he guessed the biometric lock would have opened for him had he tried it. His father answered the door.

  “What is it?” his father asked, immediately suspicious of seeing his son without warning. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I need to talk to you and mom for a minute, if that’s okay,” Nick said.

  “Let him in, Eugene,” Nick’s mother said.

  The older man stepped back from the doorway. Nick slipped in, and his father closed and locked the door behind him. It was a familiar sound. Eugene Nichols didn’t like people very much—not even his own children. And he certainly didn’t trust people. Nick knew his father would have been happy living as a hermit and never seeing another soul. His mother, on the other hand, smiled warmly as Nick stepped into their tiny home.

  “Nicolas,” she said. “It’s so good to see you. Sit down and eat with us.”

  “That’s okay,” Nick said. “I’ve had food.”

  He knew there wasn’t enough. He had grown up eating just enough to get by for years, and he saw his parents go without so that he and his brother had enough food. The trip home was unexpected, but when Nick signed his enlistment commitment and got the bonus credits on a currency chip, he knew exactly what he would do with it.

  “Is Lawrence home?” Nick asked.

  “No,” his mother said. “He’s out with friends.”

  “Good,” Nick said as he handed his mother the currency chip. “This is for him. It’s one hundred thousand credits. Enough to get him into a tech school when he gra
duates.”

  “Where the hell did you get that?” Nick’s father asked.

  “Eugene!” his mother chided.

  “Well?” Eugene Nichols demanded. “I want to know where the money came from.”

  “It’s an enlistment bonus,” Nick explained.

  “Oh, no,” his mother said, tears springing from her eyes.

  “You’re joining the PMC?” his father asked.

  “I am. I’m committed for five years. That’s my bonus. I want you to have it for Lawrence. He won’t make it in the ULU.”

  “Doesn’t appear that you made it. You’ve only been working for a week,” his father complained. “The military won’t be any easier.”

  “Look,” Nick said. “I know you came up in the ULU and I’m proud of you, Dad. But things have changed. I got paid yesterday. You know how much I had left after taxes, dues, and fees? Barely a hundred credits.”

  “That’s no reason to join the Space Marines,” Nick’s mother said, struggling to get the words out through her grief. She held up the currency chip. “Your life is worth more than this.”

  “Do you know how long I saved to have enough money to buy this place?” Eugene Nichols said. “Or how much your mother and I sacrificed?”

  “I think so,” Nick said. “But my situation is different. The Syndicate is moving into the union dormitory. They wanted a hundred credits a week for protection money. They tried to rough us up. Maybe we could have avoided them or resisted, I don’t know. But we went to the recruiting office and made our choice.”

  “You’re enlisting with that group of friends of yours?” Eugene Nichols asked. “I should have known.”

  “Nicolas,” his mother pleaded. “If you leave, you’ll never come back. Please don’t do this.”

  “It’s what’s best for me,” Nick said, knowing he could never make them understand. They had settled for a tiny fraction of happiness, eschewing all risk in favor of the familiar. He wasn’t built that way. Nick needed to see that he was growing, that his efforts were moving him forward.

  “And Lawrence will benefit, too,” Nick said. “You can rent out my bed. I wanted you both to know that I love you. I’ll miss you. If I can, I’ll send word to let you know I’m okay.”

  “I think you’re off your rocker,” Eugene said.

  “You’re taking an awful risk,” Nick’s mother added.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I better go.”

  “Don’t you want to stay until Lawrence returns?” his mother asked.

  “I’d like to, but it might make leaving more difficult,” Nick said.

  He bent down and gave his mother a hug. When he stood up, he was surprised as his father extended a hand toward him.

  “I don’t have to agree with you to respect the fact that you’re making the choice you feel is right,” Eugene Nichols said. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Nick replied, his eyes stinging as they shook hands. Nick stepped to the door. He could walk across the entire apartment in less than six steps. At the door, he turned back. “Tell Lawrence I’m sorry I missed him, and good luck. I hope he finds a specialty he enjoys.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Nick’s mother’s said.

  It was hard to step out that door. His strength seemed to flood from his body as he closed the door, and he leaned his weight against the cold, cinderblock wall that was marked with grafitti. He had said his goodbyes and done what he could for his family. That chapter of his life was over, and as difficult as it seemed, he actually felt relieved. He was a man with no ties to hold him back. Whatever came next, he was ready to throw himself into the challenge with no regrets. And if he died tomorrow, at least he had given a significant gift to his family. That was a truth he could cling to no matter how hard the future became. He took a deep breath, blew it out, and stood up straight. He had one night left on Earth, and he decided to soak up as much of his home world as possible before the morning came and his life changed forever.

  Chapter 7

  Morning came, and Nick was the first to arrive back at the recruiting office. He was forced to wait outside and soon Kal arrived, then Ember. The three of them talked about how they had spent the night. Kal had sat in his hotel room, with a view of the ocean, and watched the ships coming and going in the night. He also ordered room service. The hotel and late-night feast had cost him almost the entire bonus.

  “How was the food?” Nick asked.

  “It said it was real shrimp, but I don’t know,” his friend replied. “How should I know what real shrimp tastes like?”

  “Did you sleep?” Ember asked.

  “I lay on the bed, but it was too soft,” Kal said. “Like laying on giant pillow. I didn’t want to waste the experience by sleeping.”

  “If nothing else, at least joining the PMC gave you the chance to do something you’ll never forget,” Nick said.

  “I guess so. You should have come with me,” Kal replied. “All of you. We should have thrown in together and made it a night to remember.”

  “I gave my bonus to my brother,” Nick said. “It should be enough to get him into a tech school.”

  “That’s generous of you,” Ember said.

  “Well, considering I’ll never see any of them again, I felt like it was the least I could do.”

  “You don’t owe them nothing, bro,” Kal said. “Just because they’re your blood don’t make ’em family.”

  “Here comes Sal,” Nick said, grateful he could change the subject.

  It wasn’t that he disagreed with his friend. Kal, Jules, Ty, and Ember were more like family to him than his own parents. When things were rough, they were there for him. His parents were always working, always busy or too tired to pay him much attention. Yet he felt obligated to them even if he couldn’t point to a reason why.

  “I see three,” the recruiter said in an upbeat tone. “Where are your friends?”

  “They’ll be here,” Nick said.

  “I hope so,” Sal replied nervously. “I hate trying to track down the runners.”

  “We don’t run,” Ember said.

  “They won’t leave us hanging,” Kal added.

  The recruiter had just unlocked the metal gate that protected the recruiting office during off-hours when Ty and Jules arrived. They came strolling up the busy street together. The entire group was getting strange looks from the people passing them on the avenue.

  “Lot of people out today,” Ty said.

  “How come they aren’t working?” Jules asked.

  “Must be the business class,” Kal said. “I hear they only work eight hours a day.”

  “Must be nice,” Ember said.

  “Come on inside,” Sal said as he pulled open the glass door. “I’ll order up a shuttle to the airport.”

  They went inside. Sal made the travel arrangements and then a pot of coffee. The group of new recruits added enough creamer and sugar to the coffee so that it was more of a syrup than a drink. Ten minutes later, a shuttle descended from the mid-air traffic right in front of the recruiting office.

  “You kids listen to your instructors and you’ll do fine,” he said as he shook their hands. Kal held on a moment longer than the recruiter expected.

  “Do you really believe in Elysium?”

  “I have no reason not to,” Sal said.

  “Let’s go, Kal,” Nick urged his friend. “We’ll find out for ourselves.”

  The shuttle was big enough for twenty people, but it only transported the five friends. As soon as they were on board, it rose straight up into the air nearly two hundred feet and joined the mid-air traffic that flowed through the city and just above the gray buildings, which had moments before seemed to tower so high.

  “Nice view,” Ember said. “Beats public transit.”

  “Is that where you spent the night?” Jules asked. “Riding the trains again?”

  “It’s the only thing a person can do for free.”

  “You had a hundred thousand credits,” Ty said. “And
you did the one free thing in the whole city?”

  “I spent some of the money,” she argued. “I got off downtown and ate a late-night snack from a vendor.”

  “I hit four clubs,” Ty said. “Danced with some pretty ladies.”

  “And came home broke,” Jules said with grunt of disapproval.

  “Look,” Nick said, pointing out the window. “There’s the airport.”

  Living in a poor district surrounded by thousands of people just like them had left the group feeling like the entire world was exactly the same. The fact that some people didn’t work twelve-hour shifts earning just enough to scrape by was strange enough. But to see a busy airport full of people flying all across the country or around the world seemed almost obscene.

  “Man, can you believe it?” Kal said.

  “How do they get so much money?” Jules said.

  “Or such good jobs?” Ember added.

  The shuttle landed at the main entrance. Sal had given each of them a flight pass to Denver, the closest spaceport. After scanning their passes at a kiosk, they were directed to a flight. They didn’t have luggage. Each had a few keepsakes in their pockets, but they hadn’t brought a change of clothes or even a toothbrush. Sal had assured them that they would be issued everything they needed once they reached the Peregrinantes’ section of the Space Exchange.

  The airplane was divided into sections. The group of friends was led through the coach section of the aircraft and into the “non-revenue” section. It was a tiny space with plastic molded seats and no windows or amenities. They strapped in for the hour-long flight from Seattle to Denver International. They were the last to exit the plane, but none of them complained. It was their first time aboard an airplane.

  In Denver, huge windows gave a view of the Rocky Mountains. The group stood for nearly ten minutes just staring up at the majestic view. Another scan of their passes at a kiosk directed them to the launch bay. The seats on the transport craft were more comfortable. Padded, high-back chairs and five-point harnesses were standard. The group was even given small bottles of water and a bag of nuts as the ship reached cruising altitude.