“If we’re late, it’s her fault,” Sara said. “I’m sick of this and I’m sick of you. Why they even wanted you here is beyond me.”
It was beyond Sigrid too, but she wasn’t about to tell Sara as much.
Sigrid could see that Sara was itching for a fight, eager to beat the tar out of her, but she was determined not to give her the satisfaction. Doing her best to ignore her, she started up the steps—only to be pushed back down by Sara. Sigrid tripped on the last step and fell onto her rear, hitting her tailbone. That brought a big laugh from the other girls.
Sara’s lips curled into a sneer and she looked down at Sigrid. “You’re never going to graduate, you know. You’re going to be stuck here forever. You’ll never work for Kimura. They’re going to take back every penny they gave your family.”
Sigrid looked at her skinned knees and hands, felt the loose tooth in her mouth. Every muscle in her body ached. Sara wasn’t the only one who was fed up. She hated Sara, but more than that, she hated herself for being scared.
Something inside her snapped. Sigrid screamed and launched herself at Sara, grabbing her around the legs and throwing her from the steps. Sara fell hard onto her back and Sigrid was on top of her before she could recover, pounding her face and chest. There was no thought of technique in her attack; she clawed Sara’s face and pulled at her hair, punching her over and over.
Sara’s cronies ran forward, but Suko blocked their path, giving the two girls a warning look. Sara would have to finish this fight on her own.
Sara screamed with rage, finally managing to throw the smaller girl off her, but Sigrid regained her feet first, leaping and planting a hard kick into Sara’s chest. Sara fell to the ground, but Sigrid didn’t relent, kicking her where she lay—over and over again; in her kidneys, in her ribs and with several clouts to her backside. Even as two of the instructors pulled her off, Sigrid kicked and thrashed like a wild animal, out of control.
As Sigrid calmed, she saw that all the girls had gathered to watch. Rosa was there as well.
Sara looked up at her, beaten and bloodied; she’d have several spectacular bruises, Sigrid was sure. She knew she’d gone too far, but beating Sara had been wonderful. Whatever Rosa dished out to her as punishment would be worth it. She looked at Rosa now, waiting for the expected dressing down.
He studied her with a frown, his hands resting on his hips, but instead of the expected outburst, he grunted a simple, “Hmph,” then turned and walked away. As Sigrid watched him leave, the instructors released their grips on her arms. Apparently, that was that.
With the disturbance over, the instructors ushered the girls back into the dormitory to shower and dress before supper. The girls were quiet for the most part, but Sigrid could hear the faint whispers and felt their eyes upon her.
She usually tried to avoid the showers when the other girls used them; they always teased her relentlessly about her body—they were so much more developed than she was—but today she didn’t care. No one seemed to be in the mood to tease her, not after the drubbing she’d laid on Sara. She took an extra-long shower, taking care to wash the cuts on her hands and knees. Her face stung in a number of places, but the water felt wonderful on her sore muscles.
Suko joined her at the sink while she combed out her hair. “I’m proud of you.”
Sigrid frowned. “For beating a defenseless girl on the ground?”
“Beat her?” Suko laughed. “You gave her a right bashing. She deserved it.”
Sigrid winced. “Do you think she’ll be mad?”
“Oh, she’ll be pissed. But she’ll think twice about coming back at you.”
Sigrid hoped Suko was right. She felt a strange sense of guilt—not for the beating she’d laid on Sara, but the fact that she’d completely enjoyed it. She only hoped she wouldn’t pay for it too harshly at a later date.
After dinner, they had a little time before lights-out. Suko lay on her bunk with another book; Sigrid sat next to her on the bed, holding the latest stack of letters she’d received from her mother.
Sigrid smiled as she felt the paper with her fingers. Her mother was so old-fashioned. But paper or electronic, all messages had to be uploaded to the supply ships that came twice a year. Once uploaded, they would be transported through the Warp Relays and downloaded when they reached their destination. It was a slow way to send messages, but infinitely speedier than radio transmissions that wouldn’t arrive in her lifetime. And neither she nor her mother could afford the Couriers—the little unmanned drones that orbited the Warp Relays. That was the fastest way to communicate, but the Couriers were prohibitively expensive.
Sigrid unfolded her pad, thinking of what to write back.
“More letters?” Suko asked, looking up from her book. She seemed annoyed. “I don’t know why you bother. They won’t get them for a year.”
Sigrid shrugged. “I miss them. It doesn’t feel so bad this way.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like you’re going to see them again.”
Sigrid put down her pad. “What? Why do you say that?”
Suko turned on her stomach; a sour look came over her face. “What do you think’s going to happen when you’re finished here?”
“I…” Sigrid hadn’t thought about it; at least she tried not to.
“What do you think they’re training us for?”
“I know, but…” But what? “I just thought…” Sigrid felt flustered. Suko never spoke of her own family—she always avoided the subject—but Sigrid missed hers deeply. That her letter writing should anger Suko made no sense. “Well—I still miss them!” She turned back to her letter, frustrated and angry, but she couldn’t think what to write anymore.
“I don’t know why. Your parents sent you here—they sent you away. They sold you, Sigrid” Suko rolled onto her back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I hope I never see mine again. I hate them.”
“Hate them! Suko, they’re your family.”
“Even when we leave here, I won’t go back. I don’t think they’d take me even if I did.”
Sigrid felt too shocked to say anything—never seeing her family again? She couldn’t even consider that. After all, there were lots of children serving indentured contracts; theirs just happened to be with a mercenary organization. As bad as things were, Sigrid knew there were far worse places that children were sent to. How often had her parents warned, ‘Be good or it’s off to the factories‘?
But Suko—how could Suko’s family not take her back?
She was closer to Suko than she’d been to anyone. If Suko wasn’t here…Sigrid shuddered at the thought. Her life at the Academy, torturous as it was, without Suko…
No. If Suko’s family wouldn’t have her then the answer was clear. “Then you’ll just have to come and stay with me,” Sigrid said, with a firm nod of her head. “We’re family, now. We’re…sisters.”
Suko looked up at her, staring at her, studying her. Finally, her gaze softened as the anger drained from her face. She smiled and moved closer, leaning her head on Sigrid’s shoulder. “Sisters…I think I like that.”
Sigrid did, too.
* * *
August 16, 2343
Sigrid continued to wait for the inevitable reprisal from Sara, but as much as the girl kept staring daggers at her, she kept her distance and they both settled back into a routine of studies and exercises. Without Sara’s prompting, none of the other girls seemed interested in bothering Sigrid either, and she began to let herself relax for the first time.
Today, though, Sigrid and the rest of the girls were escorted out to the newly-constructed firing range for their course in Advanced Weapons training. The old weapons caused her enough trouble; Sigrid wasn’t quite sure how she’d deal with these new ones.
She did like her new instructor though. Chesna Dubnov was cut from much the same mold as Rosa; she stood tall, with a lean, athletic figure, and sported an impressive scar over her eye. Sigrid could only wonder why the woman had chosen to keep it,
given it was easy enough to fix. Still, it did add a certain mystique, enhancing the woman’s already lethal qualities.
An assortment of weapons had been brought up from the armory and mounted on racks behind them. The racks were stocked with everything from recoilless handguns, eSMGs and knives, to the larger, more powerful weapons, some modern and some ancient. Arquebuses, crossbows, plasma-rifles, EMP grenades; the collection seemed part museum, part arsenal. Despite the exotic selection, Chesna decided to start the girls off with the standard issue 18 mm Marine sidearm. Sixteen of the girls were lined up at the front facing a series of targets down range—some as much a hundred meters distant. The large recoilless pistols were dreadfully loud, and Sigrid covered her ears as she watched the other girls practice, dreading her own turn soon to come.
“You’re supposed to hit the targets, ladies,” Chesna scolded as she paced back and forth through the ranks of the girls. “All right! That’s enough.” The girls stopped firing and the range fell silent again. Chesna scanned the monitors in front of her; she made a show of shaking her head in disgust. “Forty-eight percent accuracy…and that’s the best score.”
Khepri clapped her hands, but stopped when Chesna glared at her.
“That wasn’t a compliment,” she said and sighed, resting her hands on the broad weapons holster at her hip. “I don’t mind saying that I expected a lot more of you girls. All right—next group, you’re up. I expect you to double that score.”
Sigrid stepped forward, taking the weapon from the girl in front of her. She checked the chamber before slapping a new clip into the handle, as Chesna had shown them.
Hesitantly at first, the girls began firing at the targets. Sara cursed in the stall next to Sigrid; she glared at the target, then regarded the weapon in her hand skeptically. “I think it’s broke,” she said.
“Keep firing, Ms. Skarsden—and don’t blame the weapon.”
Chesna stopped by Sigrid next. “Are you waiting for a formal invitation, Ms. Novak?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then I suggest you get to it—this is a timed exercise.”
Sigrid swallowed and hefted the heavy pistol; she needed both hands to hold it steady. Dreading the scolding she was sure to get, Sigrid held her breath, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.
Sigrid’s jaw dropped—she’d actually hit the target, square between the man’s eyes. She realized, then, that Chesna was still standing behind her.
“Think you can do that again?”
Sigrid looked back at her with her mouth still open. She wasn’t sure what to say, so instead turned back to the target. With the weapon grasped tightly in her small hands, she fired again, three quick shots, all perfectly grouped, splintering the wood around the previous hole she’d made.
“Very good, Ms. Novak.” Chesna pointed further downrange at the more distant targets at seventy-five and a hundred meters. “Now those.”
“Those?” Sigrid asked; she didn’t see how she could possibly, but Chesna gave her shoulder a squeeze.
This time, Sigrid held the pistol in her right hand. With her body turned sideways to the target, she raised the weapon, aiming down the length of her outstretched arm. Squeezing her left eye shut, she fired two shots, and only two shots, yet scored a hit on both targets—although she barely winged the more distant of the two. It seemed enough to satisfy Chesna though, and she patted Sigrid’s shoulder.
Beside her, Sara cursed again; she still hadn’t managed a single hit.
“You should watch this one, Ms. Skarsden. You could learn something.”
Sigrid stiffened as Sara’s eyes narrowed and stared at her. She felt herself flush.
Chesna seemed unaware, though. With her hand still on Sigrid’s shoulder, she leaned closer, speaking low in Sigrid’s ear. “Although I can’t say much for your technique. Both hands on the weapon next time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chesna grinned, satisfied, and led Sigrid back to the racks of weapons. “See anything you like?”
Sigrid looked to the weapons mounted before her; her hand played over a longbow that was easily taller than her. The long-barreled sniper rifle also caught her attention. Her eyes glazed over.
“Uh—all of them!”
* * *
Sigrid slept deeply and happily that night. After so many months of struggling with her studies, she realized that she’d finally found something she was good at. The swords she trained with always felt unwieldy, and despite her efforts in the hand-to-hand exercises, her failures were becoming legendary; the other girls had such longer reaches than she did. But now she knew—she could shoot anything.
After dinner she’d yammered Suko’s ear off before bedtime, babbling on about all the types of weapons and how she’d hit every one of Chesna’s targets. Of course, Suko had been there and seen the whole thing, but she let her friend prattle on, smiling at her excitement.
“That’s great, Seeg,” Suko said, feeling genuinely happy for her; but her eyelids were heavy and she yawned. “Now, you hafta let me sleep! I’m knackered.” Suko laughed and hit her with her pillow.
Sigrid didn’t think she could sleep, but exhaustion from the day’s constant activities took hold and she passed out before she knew it, snoring soundly.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep when the strange, muffled sounds woke her. Her eyes struggled to focus in the dark; she could barely make out the shape of several girls by Suko’s bunk. She sat up, fully awake—two sets of strong hands grabbed her arms and two more girls grabbed her legs, tossing the sheets aside and tearing her from her bed before she knew what was happening.
Sigrid screamed. Four girls covered Suko with a blanket, pinning her to her bunk. “Suko!” she cried out, but someone clamped a hand over her mouth. Kicking and screaming, she was dragged into the showers at the far end of the dormitory. She bit down hard on the hand covering her mouth—the girl yelped and pulled it away. Sigrid called out again, more frantically, “Suko!”
As much as she struggled, it was no use; the girls dragged her down, sitting on her arms and her legs. Sara knelt behind her head, staring down at her with a menacing, satisfied grin. “Hold her,” she said.
Sara stuffed a small wash cloth roughly into Sigrid’s mouth, then used a rag to tie a gag around her head and neck, cinching it tight. It knotted in Sigrid’s hair, and she cried out a muffled scream, but Sara just laughed. “Thought I’d forgot about you, you little bitch?”
Sigrid felt their hands reaching for her underwear and her shirt, and she screamed, terrified—just a smothered, gargled sound through the rags. She got a leg free and managed a good kick to one of the girls’ faces, clawing at another, but there were too many of them and they pinned her back to the cold floor.
Sara leaned over her, staring at her, and Sigrid felt herself flush, humiliated and scared. Her heart pounded as another girl approached with a length of rope and handed it to Sara. She tried to pull away, but the girls held her fast as Sara quickly bound her, winding the thin twine around Sigrid’s wrists and ankles.
The ropes tore at the skin on her wrists, but Sigrid didn’t cry out; she knew it would just spur the girls on. Laughing at her, they dragged her into the showers and tied her to a length of pipe.
Sigrid flinched as Sara leaned close to her. “Don’t worry. We’re just going to give you a little shower.” Sara nodded to one of the other girls who turned the faucet full-on cold.
The blast of icy water hit Sigrid hard, and the girls laughed with glee, watching her struggle as she pulled at the ropes, trying to free herself. Two more girls turned on the adjoining showers, directing even more water onto her, ensuring she got a good dousing. Sigrid breathed water through her nose and choked, almost gagging on the cloth stuffed into her mouth.
“Sleep tight, bitch.” Sara’s hand rested on the light switch as she looked her up and down. Sigrid turned her body away from her, as if to shield herself from the girl’s stare, but it only made Sara laugh. Then, with a
satisfied sneer, Sara flipped off the lights, leaving Sigrid alone and shivering in the dark.
Sigrid yanked on the ropes, but the thin twine only dug deeper into her wrists. Worse, the knots seemed to slip and bind tighter as the ropes got wet. As hard as she pulled, there was no escape. Within minutes her fingers and hands were numb and pruned—the water was so cold it hurt. She cried out and stamped her feet on the tiles, begging desperately, but of course, no one came back to free her.
Where was Suko? She worried now what they were doing to her. If they hurt her, when she got out she was going to…to…what? Kill them? Beat them up? There were more of them and they were bigger. What could she do against all of them? Nothing. Bound, as she was, and shaking horribly from the cold, despair filled her; Sigrid couldn’t hold back the tears that came, and she wept.
She cursed herself—cursed herself for crying and for being a fool. To think she’d actually imagined the bullying was behind her. Her shoulders ached, her hands were numb and her wrists felt like they were on fire. She was freezing. Sigrid could no longer move her fingers. She strained to arch her back, stretching, to relieve her wrists, but the girls had done a thorough job. The gag in her mouth was soaked through and Sigrid choked again on the ice-cold water and her own tears.
She had no idea how long the girls left her there, and when the bathroom lights finally flicked on she was too exhausted look up. Suko ran to her and shut off the water. She tore the gag from her face and covered her with all the towels she could grab from the laundry. Sigrid shook uncontrollably as Suko held them around her, rubbing her shoulders furiously.
“It’s okay,” Suko whispered.
She saw that Suko’s right eye was swollen and her lip was cut. Her arms were bruised where the girls had grabbed her and held her down. “F-Fuckers…” Sigrid managed through her chattering.
“Don’t worry about me. I took care of them.” Suko pulled at the knots with her fingernails and her teeth, but it was no use—the knots were stuck tight, the thin twine had shrunk in the cold water. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said with a wink.
What Tomorrow May Bring Page 172
