The Ninth

by Benjamin Schramm

  “Wait up a minute!” Cain said as he reached Daniel.

  “Something else go wrong?” Daniel asked, turning around.

  “I’m hoping not. We’ve worked together for a long time, Daniel, and you are not what I’d call excitable. No offense.”

  “None taken. I take it as a compliment. A bookie needs to remain calm at all times.”

  “Then why were you acting like a child who had just gotten his birthday presents early? I know we are in trouble, but I never would have guessed it would effect you this badly.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. There is more than a few credits at stake.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Listen, you’ve got to keep this to yourself.” Daniel glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “I can’t risk word getting out.”

  “Word getting out about what?”

  “Well, you know my division leader, right?”

  “Of course. It’s hard not to know Reggie and his exploits. What did he do now?”

  “Well, he was tight on credits, needed some extra creds to hold him over.”

  “Poor thing. What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Well, you see, he pressured me for info on the new recruits.”

  “Let me guess. Based on what we knew, Reggie figured group C was easy pickings and bet every single credit he had on them.”

  “Close. He and the squad leaders put it all on the line. Naturally, they bet against them. They were misfits, barely any prior training. The way Reggie figured it, they’d be too busy running in circles and butting heads to pass anything.”

  “And now that group C is doing so well, Reggie and the rest are out for blood.”

  “Precisely. I was hoping to calm them down by promising to split any profits I made with them.”

  “Do you think it will work?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s going to get a bit crowded in Medical.”

  Chapter 5: The Mess Hall

  Brent wasn’t sure if he should be readying himself to catch Hiroko. She was walking with such pride in her step, he was certain any moment now she would lift off the ground and float the rest of the way to the mess hall. Hiroko’s disgust had quickly faded when she saw the look on Erin’s face. While Hiroko and the rest crawled to victory, Erin had sat behind a tree – unable to get a single step closer. The humiliation was written in bold on Erin’s blushing face. Owen had stood ready to break up any fight between the two girls, but after a single glance neither said a word. Humphrey had been waiting for them in the hall. While his ever-present sour expression still lingered, his mumbling voice was almost cheerful as he guided them to the mess hall.

  “I almost thought the instructor had us,” Owen said, recounting his experience to Dante. “I figured he’d never take that spot off me.”

  As Dante chuckled, the other recruits, who had sat idly by during the exam, listened intently.

  “It’s a good thing he didn’t,” Hiroko said still dusting herself off. “If we’d been caught and all that crawling was for nothing, I would have gotten up and broken those search lights myself.”

  Brent chuckled to himself as Owen retold every moment of the experience in exaggerated detail. Ahead, Brent could make out a large room. It was filled with countless troopers sitting in rows at immense tables. Some were eating quietly, but most were chatting loudly while gesticulating wildly.

  “All right, enough chitter chatter.” Humphrey’s mumbling voice was almost completely drowned out by the noise of the eating troopers. “This is the mess hall. Your assigned seating is to the left. I’d recommend you focus on your meals. The next exam is one of the hardest, and the last thing you’ll want is to face it on an empty stomach. Oh, and try to be nice to the recruiters. I’m sure you will all be quite popular, so make sure you know your options before signing with a division.”

  Humphrey quickly abandoned the recruits and headed toward a group of troopers all wearing the same colored uniform. Brent had only noticed in passing that Humphrey’s uniform was green and orange, but now that he was standing in the mess hall, it was apparent the colors indicated what division a trooper belonged to. The colors were totally segregated. The troopers at each table wore the same colors without exception. Brent noticed Hiroko scanning the room with wide eyes.

  “After today that will be us. I wonder which divisions are the most prestigious,” Hiroko said more than asked.

  “Who knows? I just hope I don’t get asked to join that one,” Owen said pointing at a table of troopers in pink and white.

  Some of the male recruits burst into laughter. As the recruits made their way to the assigned table, Brent noticed a growing number of troopers looking at them. By the time they sat down, it was apparent that almost every division was looking them over.

  “Is it just me, or are we being watched?” Brent asked, turning to Dante.

  “From my understanding,” Dante said with a small smile, “we are the equivalent of fresh chum being waved in front of a pack a starving sharks, sir.”

  “That’s right!” Owen said as surveyed those observing them. “We are entering the academy right before a trial, aren’t we?”

  “It’s always that way,” Hiroko said in an all-knowing tone of voice. “As troopers graduate into field positions, new recruits are brought in to replace them.”

  “The divisions are desperate to recoup their losses for the upcoming trials,” Erin grinned at Hiroko. “Diminishes the chance of a recruit being assigned to a division. That way even someone like you has a chance of joining a division.”

  The cease-fire was over.

  “Trials?” Brent asked before the two girls could start up again.

  “You mean to tell me the star recruit doesn’t know about the trials?” An unfamiliar voice shouted toward Brent.

  Brent found the voice belonged to a recruit sitting at the far end of the table. All twenty of his group barely took up a fifth of the table. He realized that all the recruits would be sitting at the same table. Three groups were already at the table and evidently eavesdropping. The owner of the voice got up from her seat and approached Brent.

  “The squad leader that’s been guiding us around this place has been going on and on about your amazing performance,” she moaned. “You mean to tell me that you honestly don’t know about the trials?”

  “Apparently knowing about them hasn’t improved your performance any,” Dante said without acknowledging the girl.

  “You want to say that to my face?” The girl was fuming.

  “Why don’t you let it drop for now?” a tall young man said, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t be wise to start a fight before you are in a division, now would it?”

  “Why don’t you mind your own business?” The girl forcefully removed the man’s hand.

  Brent noticed Hiroko’s jaw had dropped. Leaning forward Brent whispered.

  “Know him?” Brent asked, while motioning for her to close her mouth.

  “See the emblem on his shoulder?” Hiroko hastily started to dust off her uniform.

  On the man’s right shoulder was a small crest. Brent couldn’t make it out from his sitting position, but it was a gold color.

  “Yeah, and it means?” Brent asked.

  “He’s a division leader!” Hiroko whispered forcefully.

  At once the girl fighting with the division leader froze. Apparently she heard Hiroko, and the fact she was bickering with a division leader was dawning on her for the first time. Brent had been so focused on the girl he hadn’t noticed the other division leader’s approach. There were now several division leaders crowding around their table. A few division leaders had intercepted the last recruit groups before they even reached the table. A group of men in solid gray muscled their way through the division leaders. Without a word, they placed trays down in front of every recruit and the spots where recruits should have been.

  On the t
ray was what Brent guessed was food. On the right side of the tray was a flattish red square. It jiggled a bit when he touched it. On the left, separated by utensils from the red blob, was a dirt brown cube. It did not jiggle when he touched it. Ignoring the chatter of the division leaders, Brent took a slice of the red blob first. It was overly sweet and was far tougher to chew than he anticipated. It was a rubbery substance tasting of synthetic flavors designed to hide some form of nutrition that was probably as hard to pronounce as it was to chew. Surprisingly, the dirt cube was far easier to chew but it did, in fact, taste like dirt.

  “When they promised you square meals you didn’t think they were being literal, did you?” a division leader asked. “D rations. Glorious aren’t they? Enough to keep you alive, but you’ll wish your taste buds were dead when you eat it. Join our division and I can promise you you’ll never have to taste it again,” he boasted.

  The recruits all pulled out their pads, some excitedly, others begrudgingly. Brent followed suit and slowly removed his pad from his pocket. As soon as it was clear of the pocket, it was snatched from his hands from behind. Turning, Brent found a division leader in pink and white holding his pad, quickly going through it.

  “Sorry boys, you snooze you lose. This one is signing up with the SF.” The division leader stuck out her tongue at the others.

  “You can’t do that, Tyra! He never agreed to it!” a division leader in tan and green protested.

  “And what do you need him for anyway?” a division leader shouted from behind Brent. “You are going against the FF on your trial. You could blindfold your entire division and still advance!”

  Several division leaders chuckled while a couple tried to wrestle the pad away.

  “My friends, we’ve been beaten to the punch!” Tyra said disappointedly.

  “What are you talking about? When would anyone have had the chance?” The tan and green division leader eyed Brent.

  “Forget when. Who had the nerve to be so underhanded?” a division leader in purple and tan asked.

  “Doesn’t say.” Tyra shrugged. “It just lists him as assigned. Better luck after the trial I suppose.”

  The other division leaders reluctantly returned their attention to the other recruits.

  “Don’t get comfy; I don’t give up so easily.” Tyra winked at Brent as she dropped the pad in his lap. “You’ll be mine one of these days. Count on it.”

  “Looks like you’ve made a friend, sir,” Dante said between bites.

  Remembering Humphrey’s suggestion, Brent returned to his meal. After some experimentation, he found the meal almost enjoyable when he mixed the two squares. While he polished off the meal, the other recruits and division leaders talked in circles. It sounded like a group of salesmen trying to sell flood insurance to a group of desert nomads. As Brent forced down the last bite, he noticed the chatter was quieting. Perhaps the other recruits had finished their negotiations, and they could focus on the next few exams.

  “So this is where the little ones are hiding,” a harsh voice announced.

  Brent turned to face the new voice. Its owner had a square jaw lined with a thin but thick beard. He couldn’t tell if the face was scowling or if the eyebrows were simply poorly groomed. A wicked smile pulled at the mouth as it spoke.

  “What do you want, Reggie?” a division leader asked bitterly.

  “Nothing that concerns you. I suggest you all return to your meals before they get cold. Well, colder,” Reggie replied coolly.

  “And what if we don’t listen to your suggestion?” Tyra asked calmly.

  “Well, that might upset my friends. And you wouldn’t want that, now would you, Tyra?” Reggie smiled sinisterly.

  As if they had been waiting for their cue, a huge mass of troopers descended on the table. Standing behind Reggie in neat rows, Brent could make out dozens and dozens of troopers, every one of them wearing the same white and purple uniform that Reggie was.

  “Brought a few squads to back you up?” Tyra asked, without taking a step back. “How brave of you.”

  “A few squads?” Reggie wasn’t playing around anymore, his tone was devoid of idle threats. “Forgotten how to count have we? I trust you’ll find that my entire division stands with me, all one hundred strong. Now, I’m only going to say this one more time. Step away from the recruits and return to your own table. Now.”

  Several division leaders immediately took their leave and quickly rushed back to their tables. Most of the recruits stood up, clearing themselves of the table and tensing for a fight. Tyra stood firm. Brent remained sitting, his neck starting to ache from looking behind him for so long.

  “Now, now. Can’t we all just get along?” a deep voice asked playfully from opposite Reggie.

  Looking forward, Brent was face to face with a pair of boots. Standing where his meal had been was a heavyset trooper in a green and orange uniform with a huge grin practically lining his face from ear to ear. Behind him, standing on the other side of the table, was another army of troopers. While their uniforms were sloppy and mostly unkempt, they too wore the green and orange of the trooper standing before Brent.

  “Who are you and what does the FF want with me?” Reggie asked, honestly confused.

  “His name is Cain, and he told me you have a little bit of a tiff with that boy.” A tall man in green and orange with a gold emblem on his shoulder emerged from the group of troopers. “Is this true, Reggie?”

  “Leonard, I should have known.” Reggie’s voice remained firm. “This doesn’t concern you. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. This is RG business; leave us to it.”

  “Dante, take the others and get some distance,” Brent whispered as he stood. “This doesn’t look good.”

  “Sir?” Dante asked with clenched fists.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m the one Reggie is gunning for. The last thing we need is to be in a brawl before the next exam. Now get everyone out of here,” Brent whispered forcefully.

  “Maybe if you are lucky they will count this as your combat exam,” The heavyset trooper said as he got off Brent’s plate.

  “Cain was it?” Owen asked. “What exactly is that guy’s problem with Brent?”

  “Reginald? You guys are doing a bit too well on the exams,” Cain said swiping at the food hanging off his boots. “Reggie thinks he can put an end to that by putting an end to your friend.”

  “Looks like the odds are no longer in your favor, Reggie,” Leonard said. “My division, a few brave division leaders, and, to top it all off, the entire set of recruits. You sure you want to take us all on?” he asked as he advanced toward his foe.

  “You know, I was never any good at retreating. Once I choose a plan of action, it’s all or nothing!” Reggie shouted as he charged forward.

  Joining the battle charge, the entire RG division behind Reggie rushed the recruits. The FF matched charge for charge, leaping over the table. Reggie dodged Leonard’s punch and dived toward Brent. Reggie made contact, knocking the wind out of him. Staggering, Brent watched Reggie launch a follow up punch. He tried to duck but was too slow. The blow landed squarely on his right cheek. As Brent hit the floor, Reggie raised both his fists, locking them together for the final blow. Reggie swung down with all his might. Brent’s eyes closed, anticipating the coming blow.

  However, there was no following pain. Opening his eyes, he found a female trooper in FF colors standing between them, Reggie’s fists still resting on her shoulders. A brief look of fear washed over Reggie’s face before he disappeared to the floor. Dante had swept Reggie’s feet out from under him with a single move. Taking deep breaths while he tried to stand, Brent took in the entire battle. Hundreds of troopers and recruits were exchanging blows, the recruits’ inexperience painfully obvious compared to the trained troopers.

  A group of five RG troopers noticed Reggie’s fall and charged Brent. The female FF counter charged and managed to take three down. As the four wrestled on the ground, the two remaining RG troopers
grew closer to Brent with amazing speed. The first one grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, immobilizing him before he could act. The second laid into Brent, landing blow after blow all over his torso. Owen jumped the RG trooper holding Brent and knocked them all to the floor. Releasing Brent, the RG trooper behind him focused on Owen. Having the wind knocked out of him, the RG trooper Brent had landed on was momentary stunned. Rolling out from between the troopers, Brent found himself in the center of the main group. It was impossible to tell which side was winning.

  Tremendous pain interrupted his thoughts as a mighty blow landed on his back. Spinning to face his attacker, Brent was face to face with Reggie. Reggie snarled like a crazed beast. Brent took a step back, right into the hands of three RG troopers who held him firmly. Reggie’s face contorted into a hideous grin. This was going to finish the troublesome recruit once and for all. Reggie pulled back his fist and swung it with all his might at Brent’s head. Once more, Brent’s eyes closed in anticipation. However, after a moment or two of anxious waiting, he realized the expected pain had never come. Opening his eyes, he was astonished to find Reggie’s fist mere inches in front of him, holding perfectly still in the air. Moving his head to the side, Brent could see that Reggie’s entire body was perfectly still as if frozen in place. Looking around, he realized it wasn’t just Reggie, every single person was frozen.

  “Filthy organics,” a disgusted voice rang in his ears. “You should just kill them all.”

  “Who said that? What’s going on?” Brent called out.

  “I’m offering you a choice.” The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “A once in a lifetime opportunity.”

  “Choice? What choice?”

  “Right now your very life is on the line; make no mistake about that. I’m giving you the option to save yourself, or perish.”

  Brent watched as a shadow of himself broke free of the troopers and struck violently at Reggie. Reggie’s body crumpled listlessly to the floor. One by one, the other Brent killed the troopers as they futilely resisted. The other Brent spared no one, killing members of the RG, FF, and recruits with reckless abandon. With horror, he watched as his alter ego snapped Hiroko’s neck without showing any effort. He could hear the crunch of breaking bones as his shadow’s fist ripped into Owen’s chest and flattened Dante’s head under his foot. Before long, the other Brent was the only person left standing. As suddenly as the vision had appeared, it faded. Brent was once again face to face with a suspended fist.