by Tom Germann
There’s a rustling up high and then he calls out. “Hey! Where are you going!?”
I stop and look back at him. I had only taken a few paces but I don’t really have the energy to go back to talk to him so I just yell, “What?”
He looks startled and angry. “Where are you going? You have our water purifier!”
I shrug as I picture him falling and breaking his neck. I could just grab the navigation device and carry on getting this done without a whiner to deal with.
I sigh again and think about just giving up and climbing a tree for the night too. “I am heading for the nav point and will camp out there. You have two full water bottles and puritabs in case you need more. It’s too early to stop now. I’ll see you there in the morning.”
I turn and start walking off before he can waste more of my time.
I hear a thrashing in the trees; it sounds like he’s coming down. Probably going to chase after me and have a screaming fit like I was leaving him to die. Whose fault is it that he left all his gear behind?
I keep trekking along and after about an hour I come up to the sensor. It’s in a small open area and there are several big, strong-looking trees that have branches that I could get to.
There is a small, clear stream going through here and I pull out a water bottle, drain it and started filling it up using the purifier. The Grumbler arrives and drinks both of his bottles and then drops them by me to refill. I fill them and then pack everything away and start climbing.
We don’t talk at all, which is not uncommon on something like this, but that’s usually because we all just work together in companionable silence and are following the rules about no attachments. This is different. I don’t want or need to talk to this Grumbler.
When I climb my tree, I secure myself to it using some line and then I secure the backpack to the tree and myself. I hadn’t thought about doing that until I realized that I don’t trust the Grumbler. I could see him taking what he needs and leaving me. He has the navigation device and hasn’t logged in yet. If he sneaks off in the morning or takes off late at night, then I’m on my own.
Of course, if this course is a few days long, then it would make more sense for him to do it later. After all, I’m carrying almost all the important gear. I have to figure out what to do.
The next day I push for us to move on again. We are able to get another two navigation points down. I am careful with the water purifier as it’s great but looks fragile for this sort of environment. Every time I use that purifier I make sure that no big gunk goes into the filter area and I make sure that I scrape as much of the gunk away as I can. The Grumbler goes from grumbling to glares of pure hatred by the end of the second day.
The simple fact that the sky had opened and rained on us for six hours does not make it easier. We were soaked, and it got even hotter.
I am tired and when we make it to the second navigation point, I make sure to drink and fill before going up the tree. The Grumbler just drops his water bottles with me and finds a tree he likes. He takes his water bottles and climbs up. He hasn’t scanned in on the sensor.
I secure myself and my bag and pass right out.
I can’t figure out how we are only making maybe two kilometers a day and feeling this drained. I wake up before the Grumbler and think about that as I take my boots off to look at my feet. I hadn’t done that before. My feet look terrible and the socks smell like rot, so I change them out with the clean and only-sort-of-damp socks from my bag. I tie the smelly socks to the top of my bag, hoping they will dry out or at least not smell as bad.
He finally wakes up and we eat a bit of trail mix before carrying on. He seems a bit more cheerful but just keeps glaring at me. We take off and it starts raining again. It rains all day. We make it to the first nav point and he immediately starts getting ready to climb a tree. We still have hours of light left. The only water we have there is scummy and looks pretty bad, but the Grumbler just ignores me when I say that. He grabs the water purifier and goes to work filling his bottles and then does mine.
He holds on to it and I can hear him cursing while he climbs his tree.
Everything seems to be my fault. He’s up in the tree and then asleep. I climb up and fall asleep almost immediately.
I wake up early. It’s still dark.
Where are all the rest of the teams? Are we the only two left walking around out here, or are there more groups still going?
I hear a rustling and then Grumbler goes down his tree, walks over to the sensor and taps it, then takes off.
He left me. I can hear him grumbling and mumbling to himself as he enters the jungle. I wait a little as he always seems to go in a straight line and then I climb down carefully. I move into the jungle and head in the same direction.
I spend the day chasing after him. I see him a few times but I never try to really catch up. The weather is worse than ever and I have to close up a good bit so I don’t lose him.
I see where he is filling up his water bottles and he is making big mistakes. Every water source is disgusting and I have the feeling that he is not taking the time to properly clean the purifier. I still have mine that’s untouched and do the best I can to keep it in good shape. I come across the occasional water source that is slightly better than the rest of the sludge out here.
Eventually, I see him stop for a while. I know that he has found the sensor, as he immediately climbed a tree.
I get as close as I can and then find some thick cover between us so I can stay close and not be seen.
I can hear him talking all the way to where I was. It sounds like he is arguing with himself.
As darkness falls, the jungle comes alive as it never had before. Birds and insects have always been there but we had never heard anything bigger. Just after sundown I wake up to a strange roar. It sounds like the animal is coughing as it roars. I sit there terrified half the night, holding my small knife for cutting up fish. Then I give up as I’m so exhausted that I just don’t care and fall back asleep.
I wake up to the Grumbler screaming as he comes down out of his tree. I don’t move; I just watch him as he taps the sensor with the navigation device and heads off.
I open my backpack to check my gear and find all the cloth and fabric covered in mould and starting to fall apart. I check myself over. My feet smell like rotting garbage in the heat of the day. I have chafing, callouses and some mould growing on me. Life is really starting to suck, and my partner has left me.
I can’t give up or I’d be in jail, executed, brain-wiped or something else bad, so I get dressed again and climb down the tree, trying to ignore how my feet feel as the blisters tear and how my crotch is now officially on fire.
I still have water and lots of food.
There is an okay water source on the other side of the clearing and I fill up, careful to scrape away the sludge from the purifier when I am done.
I start off after Grumbler.
I can still hear him and don’t think that he has gone that far. As I get closer, I can hear the sound of water. Then I can see the water through the foliage.
He is sitting next to a stream just looking out at the water. All his gear is lying where he had dumped it. I see the nav device behind him and scoop it up. I can smell him from ten feet away. He smells way worse than I do.
Then it hits me. He hadn’t purified the water properly and has the runs. He crapped himself and is just sitting there mumbling and crying to himself.
I come around the side of him and stay out of reach. His one water bottle is empty and the other, I can see matter floating in it.
He looks at me and I can see he looks horrible and he’s crying. “I don’t want to die here, but I’m so thirsty and every time I drink I get sick. Look at all that cold, gorgeous water there,” he says, pointing at the stream. “I bet there are alligators or piranhas in there. They’re probably con
trolled by all the local head-hunters that hide out here waiting for us.”
He’s rocking himself and sobbing.
I throw him my full water bottle and turn to go. “All you have to do is press the emergency button and they’ll come and get you and you can be out of this heat.” I walk off.
If the jungle river is deep and fast here, it has to be crossable either above or below. So I head for above. I have to go maybe a hundred meters and then find a wide, shallow part and cross easily, staying out of the water as much as possible. I don’t see any wildlife at all.
After a short walk, I notice the jungle start to thin out and then I suddenly pop out of the jungle at a fence line. The directions on the navigation device change and I walk along the fence and then around a corner. I make good time out in the open. I come to a gate a little later and the guards there let me through. I’m heading back to the big metal building that we started at. Most of the others are already there. There are staff that tell me where to go for a shower, and I have an outdoor shower with sun-heated water.
It’s awesome! I scrub at myself and put on some clean, non-mouldy clothes.
I go through my backpack and basically throw everything out except for my first-aid kit and water purifier.
I go to check in with the staff and the only one around is Armour.
She looks me over. “Where is your partner?”
I feel awkward. “Just on the other side of the river, sitting there. I told him to push his emergency button; it would have been a little more than two hours ago.”
She is watching me with a blank face. “Was he incapacitated? Why did you leave him?”
I shrug. “He had the runs but could walk if he wanted to or needed to. He was completely freaked out shortly after our arrival and then tried to leave me behind two days ago.”
She is just watching me. “So you left him behind.”
It isn’t a question; it’s a statement. I feel that is was dangerous to deal with, but I don’t know how so I simply nod and say, “Yes, I did.”
Armour nods at me and then says, “Go eat something and get some more fluid into yourself. We will be departing two hours after the last group returns.”
I walk over to the table and grab an energy drink and some fruit. I don’t look back, but I can feel her watching me. Have I done anything wrong?
I don’t know.
I let the worry go. I eat a bunch of food and drink and then pass out on a cot behind the bug net.
I wake up when they wake us and move out when they direct us to do that. We walk to the plane and board.
The plane had been almost full when we arrived. Now it’s more than half empty.
When we left the training complex originally, there had been two almost-full planes. We have lost well over half of the candidates. It’s closer to three-quarters of us gone.
I am waiting for the axe to fall and be declared the next fail. Then I close my eyes and I go to sleep on the plane ride back to the training complex.
EVALUATION
(AFTER FIELD TRAINING)
Back in the evaluation room, the man is looking at the woman. She looks no worse for her trips or her activities. She had been out on the ice shadowing the candidates and then doing the same in the jungle. She looks fine and energized, though, ready to take on a pirate crew all on her own.
That’s all right; when she was field-side as a Marine she had done just that. She was brave, fearless and absolutely cold, willing to do whatever it took to win.
That is why she is here now reviewing candidates along with him. No sentimentality can be used during this process or the final product ends up being flawed. That could cost billions and many lives. The Corporation does not believe in wasting either.
Everyone arrived back at the training complex in Canada just a few hours ago. The candidates are busy getting themselves settled in with an early night before the next phase of their training starts.
The man, as always, is dressed in a suit and has a faintly harassed look on his face. They are still in agreement on all files but the one. That one file they have completely opposing views over and had since the meeting started.
He is getting frustrated and knows it. The sweat smell in the small meeting room is all from him. She is perfectly poised, as always, and doesn’t look like she ever breaks a sweat. She likely hadn’t even when she was in the jungle shadowing different groups of candidates, and wouldn’t if she was walking across a lava pit.
He does not understand why she feels the way that she does, but he is going to try to figure it out. They both have an excellent track record and he needs to keep the Corporation supplied with the best possible candidates for the Marine division.
He tries again. “Okay, we are in agreement on everyone, and everything we predicted was pretty much on target. The only one that we don’t agree on is our neighbourhood psycho.”
She raises an eyebrow at him and he explains quickly. “I am aware of the real story and what happened, but that does not change what was done or how he responds. If he is not a whack job, then he is in a shell. When that shell breaks, then he is going to be useless. Useless means dead Marines on a mission and billions of credits gone.”
She nods, but not in agreement. Then her hand reaches up and brushes non-existent lint off her left shoulder. “We know what he did. All the tests show that he is, as you say, a whack job. Technically insane. A functioning psycho that will do horrible things.”
Her eyes stare into his and there is a challenge there. He feels himself shivering, as if someone walked across his grave.
She continues. “When he breaks, he will likely expand fully into his possible capabilities. The horrible things and destruction he would be willing to bring down will be directed by the Corporation for the betterment of the people of Earth. You seem to keep forgetting that when I joined, they tagged me as a fully-functioning psycho with several twists. I have killed enemies in horrific ways and done things that would have most normal Earthers crying on the floor. He resonates with me. I see elements of myself in him that, if I could have recognized them at the time, I would have done things differently. But I would still be here today and likely in this same seat doing the same thing.”
She looks away and sighed. That cold feeling that he had is now much worse.
When she looks back, her face is even colder than usual, if that was possible. “He is one of the best candidates that this facility has seen in more than two years. If he is brought along carefully and can get past his issues when they finally come out.”
Issues? He feels his flesh goose bumping as he wonders what would be more serious than the candidate’s “issues.”
“Then I believe we will have a top-of-the-line Marine. The problem is that we cannot fully know until he is in mission and starts reacting to real danger. He knew in the Arctic and jungle that there were no real threats. Everyone had a call button and our security kept anything life-threatening away. He did not consciously know this. But his subconscious mind was fully aware.”
He understands what she is saying and how she feels, but how to put what he sees forward?
He makes a last attempt. “My point is that if he is supposed to be a team player… In the jungle, he doesn’t try to communicate with the other half of his team. He sneaks around his back doing things without briefing him and then sets up traps around the camp to protect himself. Plus, he acted in a paranoid way, securing himself and his gear to the tree so that no one could get to him. Finally, when his partner snaps, he leaves him behind, takes the sensor wand and leaves. Then, he doesn’t mention it to anyone at base until he is asked. Is that really a team player in your mind?”
She just looks at him quietly. “He was partnered with someone that fits the profile of a failure. That failure dumps all of his important equipment and has the partner carry it. This failure did almost exactly the same in
the Arctic, participating the least in helping the team. He constantly discloses their location by continually talking and cursing the jungle and complaining about how bad his life is. He finally takes the one piece of gear that he needs and the only sensor wand and attempts to abandon his partner. After a little over a day, he has a complete break as a result of drinking contaminated water because he was too stupid to keep the purifier working and relied on water purification tabs, which they were all told did not do much unless the water was treated first. The failure sits there constantly crapping himself and crying after he drops all his gear and is again not even smart enough to use his emergency call button.”
She stops and sighs again, and then looks up at her fellow board member. “Understand that if the situation had been reversed, I would not have left a water bottle with him after I took the sensor wand and I would not have reminded him about the emergency call button. I would have snapped his neck as a fail point and a threat by the second day.”
She reaches over and closes the file. “We keep him.”
The man grunts then shrugs. They had been turning out a better quality of candidate with higher success and sync rates since the two of them started working together. This will either work or not.
He looks at her as they stand up to leave the meeting room and carry on with the next phase of training. “You know he is starting to nickname people?”
She smiles and it transforms her face. “Of course. He is labeling those who are important to him in some way. It gives him the attachment, but at a level he is comfortable with.”
He chuckles. “He’s calling you Armour.”
She stops at the door and looks at the man, pausing before she opens it. “Of course he is; that’s what I am.”
She opens the door and walks out. He just shakes his head and follows, closing the door as he exits and heads to the control centre to report.
