When he felt his body start to sway, he forced himself to stop. Time seemed to drag on and on. There was nothing he could do but wait. His heart was pumping hard, his blood running hot through his body. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped into his eyes. He blinked the sweat away, not even daring to wipe at the perspiration. When Sergeant Gomez returned, Nick felt a wave of relief—but it was an illusion.
“Gillcrist, Hornsby, Nadal,” Gomez shouted the names of three recruits. “Follow me.”
The three recruits were all men. They slouched as they followed Gomez out of the room. Nick never saw them again. He wanted to comment about the obvious test they were taking. His greatest fear was that one of his friends would give into the temptation to slouch against the wall, adjust their posture, or speak out loud and would then be removed from the group. Something—call it instinct—told Nick that they were being tested at all times. Even when they couldn’t see how they were being watched, they were. He was sure the Proxy had ways of monitoring them as they went through the “trainings,” which were all really tests. He was certain they listened in on every conversation and saw every movement. They might even be able to read his thoughts. They were aliens, after all, and mind-reading wasn’t the strangest rumor he’d heard about the Travelers.
Another block of time passed, and finally Gomez returned. He ordered them to stand at ease, with their hands clasped behind their backs and their feet apart. Nick was beginning to feel his muscles complaining from the lack of movement. He felt stiff and tired, but he dared not complain. They were taken back to the mess hall and fed a supper of pasta with meatballs, salads with creamy dressing, and soft, buttery breadsticks. For dessert they enjoyed a rich pudding with cookie crumbles and whipped cream.
Nick and his friends ate their food but talked little. They were all on edge after their day of training. Kal was so drained that he showered and immediately went to sleep. Nick, Ty, and Ember found a data terminal and went back over the dates listed in the Peregrinantes’ timeline. Jules spent her time stretching, and when they all turned in for the night no one had any problems falling asleep. Their training was taxing physically, mentally, and emotionally. Nick had not spoken about his time in the TTS, nor had he asked about anyone else’s time in the simulators. He wasn’t accustomed to keeping secrets from his friends, but he forced himself to do it, which only added to the mental strain.
As he lay down that night, he thought of his old life. It had been taxing, too, but in a different way. On Earth, he’d felt trapped. Hours on end checking bottle caps had been strenuous on his body, and the boredom had taxed him mentally, but worst of all was the feeling that they couldn’t escape their lot in life. This intake training was different; they could be facing death, and his mind struggled with the terrifying reality that he could actually die in the PMC any number of ways. But while he felt stuck and scared, he also felt challenged. The testing forced him to think, while on Earth he’d been discouraged from thinking at all. Things were better, he decided, even if they were frightening.
Sleep fell over him quickly. It was a welcome escape from his mind’s constant onslaught of fear and the overwhelming assault of new information. He found peace in the relief from his new duties as a Space Marine, even if only for a very short night.
Chapter 13
The second day began too early. Nick had no way of knowing how long he had slept, only that his body wanted more. They went through their morning PT, the only difference from the prior morning being the addition of the physical boosting drink before both the weight training and the cardio.
The group fell quickly into the routine: classes after breakfast, TTS training, and then a variety of tests. Some of the tests were traditional quizzes, but others were puzzles or games with set time limits for completion. In the TTS room, Nick went through a variety of simulators. Some were machine-based and showed him in a variety of mechanized vehicles, from armored ground assault craft to atmospheric attack ships. There were weapon simulators and terrain simulators. Each had similar elements and tested a range of skills, from basic command of the controls to dealing with terrifying circumstances beyond the user’s control.
By the fifth day, the group of recruits was down to eight people. Nick’s friends were all still there, along with two other women and a man with dark bags under his eyes. No one knew the man’s age for certain, but the consensus was close to one hundred earth years. The physical challenges of their training were easier to adapt to than the mental. Nick and his friends worked constantly to encourage one another. At some point each of them wanted to quit. Day five was Nick’s hardest day. After PT and classroom training, where they focused on the rank structure of the PMC, Nick was put in a simulator suit and sent back into the blocky zero gravity TTS. He had since learned to control the suit’s compressed air generators that could be used to move in zero gravity. But despite the daily disinfection of the equipment, the suit smelled horrible. It was a combination of sweat, body odor, and vomit. That, added to the spinning, tumbling simulation in the TTS, and it was only a matter of time before Nick added to the odor of the suit.
Getting sick in zero gravity was a new experience—an unpleasant and humiliating one. Thus, the simulation was lost on him and he was completely unable to finish. Trapped inside the suit with his own vomit while he spun and tumbled helplessly through simulated space, Nick lost his cool.
When the training session ended, Sergeant Gomez found Nick passed out on the floor. Nick woke up in the showers, cold water pelting his face and flooding his training suit.
“Get out of that suit, Nichols!” Gomez shouted. “Clean yourself up, recruit.”
“I can’t,” Nick said, coughing as the cold water shocked his system and flooded his sinuses.
“Do it or you’re done here,” the gruff sergeant said. “The PMC isn’t for quitters.”
“I’m not a quitter,” Nick said, his tears mingling with the cold water from the shower as he struggled to get to his feet in the training suit that was heavy with water.
“Don’t tell me—show me!”
Nick got to his hands and knees, shuffled out of the spray of the shower nozzle, and with trembling fingers unlatched the suit’s clasps. He crawled out and got to his feet.
“Maybe you’ll make it,” Gomez grumbled. “Clean the suit and be at the mess hall for dinner. If you don’t show, I’ll have you on a shuttle back to Earth by bedtime. You can repay your bonus with hard labor.”
The sergeant left the bathroom facility, and Nick dropped to the floor. He couldn’t stop the tears. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for the military, he thought. He was so tired he could barely stay awake during the holo-lectures. His mind felt scrambled, and the only thing that kept him going was his friends; he didn’t want to let them down. Joining the PMC had been his idea, after all, but while he was treated like a nameless cog in the ULU, he never felt directly mistreated. In the PMC he was just a slave, and he was beginning to think that Sergeant Gomez’s job was to torture his recruits into quitting.
Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t so bad back on Earth. Maybe he could strike out on his own and leave the city and the unions. He could find a job in one of the smaller towns, maybe even carve a life for himself off the grid. As he scrubbed the nastiness from the training suit, his mind fantasized about life on Earth. By the time he had cleaned himself and the equipment he had spoiled, he was determined to quit the PMC. He got to the mess hall just in time. Sergeant Gomez gave him a cross look but didn’t say a word.
Nick didn’t feel like eating, but he got a tray and sat with his friends.
“Yo man, you look like hell, bro,” Kal told him.
“I’ll bet I know why,” Ember said. “Baggy was in the zero-G sim yesterday. He doesn’t strike me as the type to take cleaning very seriously.”
“I don’t think he knows what deodorant is,” Jules added.
“I’m going home,” Nick said in a quiet voice.
“What?” Ty asked.
�
��I can’t do this anymore,” Nick said. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
“Hey man, we can do anything if we stick together,” Kal said. “You know that.”
“You guys don’t need me,” Nick said.
“That isn’t true,” Ember said.
“You just had a bad ride, Nick,” Jules said. “You know things aren’t all bad.”
“I’m about to break down,” Nick said, as tears filled his eyes.
“Then we’ll carry you,” Ty said. “We don’t give up on one another, and we never will.”
“Yeah, man. We’re family,” Kal said.
“It’s just a couple more days,” Jules urged. “You can do anything for two days.”
“She’s right,” Ember added. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
Nick didn’t eat his dinner and barely made the walk back to their barracks. Kal saw him right to bed, and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. The others stayed up for a while, talking in low tones as they watched over their friend.
The next morning, Nick felt better but was still uncertain. He knew Jules had been right. He could survive two more days, but he didn’t have any confidence that he could continue with the training much longer, or that he would be any good as a Space Marine.
“No classes today,” Gomez announced after PT and their breakfast. “Personal study. Tomorrow is testing day.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Kal said.
“It’s about time,” Ty added. “I don’t think I could have sat through another lecture.”
“Let’s study,” Ember said. “We can do it together.”
They pulled their desks into a circle and went over the information they had been lectured on. They all knew the important dates of the Peregrinantes’ history with mankind. They also knew the divisions of the PMC. There was infantry, which were basic ground troops. There was the motorized division, which included troop transports and armored fighting vehicles. The mechanized division included a variety of armored body suits in a range of sizes for all terrain-heavy artillery support in military zones. The med division consisted of a range of medical personnel, from field medics to surgeons. The logistical division included supply train and resource acquisition as well as allotment. The administrators were considered part of the logistical division, as were maintenance personnel. The testing and training division was exactly like it sounded, consisting of training personnel like Sergeant Gomez and people involved in testing new equipment. They also prepared training materials for all new weapons and equipment. The final division was the smallest, the elite DRAGONS: Deep Recon Air Ground Orbit Nautical Specialists. The Dragons had unique equipment and were deployed in special operations throughout the Peregrinantes Trade Route.
They quizzed each other on the names of the planets and solar systems that were part of the network of worlds where the Peregrinantes operated. It was a lot of information. They studied charts of the various types of ships operated by the Peregrinantes. And finally, they memorized the seven ranks of enlisted personnel in the PMC. They were currently recruits, and if they completed their training they would be promoted to privates. Once they had completed at least two deployments, they would be eligible for promotion to corporals. Team leaders and the marines who showed the most talent would be promoted to the rank of sergeant. Staff sergeants were platoon leaders, and gunnery sergeants were assistants to the master sergeants, who commanded companies of at least two and no more than five platoons.
They spent all afternoon on various simulators and had another extended study session before and after dinner. Sergeant Gomez told them their exams on the following day would determine their placement options, which they would then learn that afternoon. Soon, he promised, they would ship out from the Space Exchange on Pereginantes trade ships—and if they were lucky, they would retire to Elysium in just five years.
Chapter 14
For the first time since arriving at the Exchange, Nick woke up without being roused by Sergeant Gomez. He knew it was early, but he was still surprised that they were being allowed extra time to rest. Nick got up and stretched. The thought of going to the PT area and taking a few circuits on the weight machines crossed his mind, but he opted to just stay close to his friends.
He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and then returned to his bunk. Some of the recruits were still asleep, but the rest were up and moving around. Nick woke Kal and Ty, who were still in bed. Before long, they were on their way to the mess hall. Sergeant Gomez was waiting for them.
“Get some chow, then go to the lecture room,” he ordered the group of friends. “From there, we’ll call you individually for testing. Results will be released after lunch, and you’ll have an hour to decide where you want to serve if you have options.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” they all said in quiet unison.
After getting trays of eggs and pancakes, they settled at a table. The food didn’t seem so appealing as they silently considered what might happen next.
“What are we going to do if we get split up?” Ember finally asked. “I mean, they don’t have to give the option of what division we’ll be assigned to.”
“I thought we would have a choice,” Ty said.
“We will if we test high enough,” Jules said.
“Damn, I should have studied more,” Kal said.
“The best thing we can do is not worry,” Nick told his friends. “We’ve trained and prepared all week. They’ve watched our every move. What the Peregrinantes decide is out of our hands.”
“That doesn’t answer the question, though,” Ember said. “What do we do if we’re split up?”
“Nothing we can do,” Kal said.
“Look,” Nick added. “The plan all along was to work hard, pool our money, and find a way to get ahead. If we get assigned to different divisions, then our first priority is to stay alive.”
“Yeah, if we survive for five years we’ll get discharged at the same time,” Ty said.
“So we meet back up on Elysium,” Jules added.
“If it exists,” Kal said skeptically.
“It does,” Nick said confidently. “So far, everything they promised has been true. The food is amazing. The facilities are first-rate. And we got paid.”
“How far do you think earth credits will get us on Elysium?” Ty asked.
“I don’t know,” Nick said. “But getting there is the goal. Somehow, someway, we survive whatever comes next.”
“And save, say, twenty percent of our pay,” Jules added. “That way we have seed money once we get to Elysium.”
“That’s a good idea,” Kal said. “Elysium might not be any better than Earth was.”
“So we all stay alive and save twenty percent,” Ember said. “I think it would be smart to find a way to stay in touch.”
“You know it,” Ty agreed.
“That’s a good idea,” Nick said. “I’m guessing the Proxy have a decent network set up.”
“Even across the galaxy?” Kal asked.
“We know they operate by moving along the trade route,” Nick said. “My guess is they have communication depots in each system.”
“And the trade ships ferry communications between them,” Ember said.
“Their ships travel faster than light,” Jules said. “It makes sense.”
“So the ships dump communications at every stop and pick up new ones,” Kal said. “Alright, that works. We’ll be able to leave messages. How often should we try to do that?”
“We won’t know how long deployments might last,” Jules said. “How about once a month?”
“Okay, we send a group message once a month unless we’re deployed,” Nick said.
With their plans settled, they finished the meal and made their way to the lecture room. It didn’t take long before Sergeant Gomez arrived. He looked straight at Nick.
“You’re up first, Nichols,” he said.
Nick stood up. His nerves felt like a jumble of live wires. The others n
odded at him, wishing him luck as he headed out of the lecture room. He followed Sergeant Gomez to a small room with two tables. At one table sat three tall Peregrinantes in PMC uniforms. Gomez came to attention and saluted; Nick followed the instructor’s example.
“Have a seat, recruit Nichols,” the center alien said with its small mouth. It seemed to have to work hard to form words that Nick would understand.
“Good luck,” Gomez said before leaving the room.
Nick sat down at the second, empty table and faced the aliens, and he felt even more nervous. He understood that he worked for the Proxy, but seeing them now in such close proximity was still strange. They were very different from humans, even though their body structure was roughly the same. They had two arms, two legs, a body, and a head, but they were much thinner than humans. Nick thought they looked frail by comparison to humans, as if they lacked adequate musculature. They appeared to be hairless. Their round heads weren’t much larger than a human’s, but with big eyes, thin mouths, and only small slits for nostrils, the heads looked oddly huge. Nick watched with interest as the aliens moved their hands. They had long, delicate fingers that moved with a strange grace.
“The exam we are about to administer is oral,” the alien said. “You will answer to the best of your ability. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Nick replied.
“Very good. Let’s begin.”
The testing lasted for half an hour. The questions ranged from the history of the PMC to the operation of equipment that Nick had learned on the TTS. He stumbled trying to recall a few dates, but he felt confident that he had gotten the questions all correct in the end.
“Very good, recruit,” the alien in charge of the testing said. “You will now be taken to a simulator.”
Nick stood up and saluted again. The aliens didn’t get to their feet, but they returned his salute. When he stepped outside, Sergeant Gomez was waiting with Ember in tow.
Dragon Team Seven Page 7
