She sat down, feeling that the tension regarding her was decreasing.
“What regiment do you come from?”
A few chairs away, a voice was speaking up for the general curiosity.
“Actually, I come from the Ministry of Counter-Terrorism, not from the Army.”
Concentrating once again on the table and her food, Julia clumsily picked up what she had learned to be a spoon, dipping it in the greenish liquid in her soup bowl. For a moment she stopped to contemplate it, before cautiously bringing the spoon to her lips - she quickly lowered it when the hot soup burned her mouth.
“Mayne, where do you come from?”
At this new question, Julia dropped her spoon and subconsciously started flattening out the folds of her slacks – her hand revealing the stress her face was trying to hide behind a blank expression.
“Province I.”
Her interlocutor’s face lit up in surprise.
“That’s where I come from. Are you the Champion of the Empire Mayne?”
A sudden silence fell over the table, while fifteen gazes converged on Julia.
The smile becomes, if possible, even more embarrassed and stretched, her shoulders sag and Julia’s hand grasps the now forgotten spoon almost as if it were a sword.
“Yes, it’s me.”
Kob laughed heartily, followed by all of her other classmates. He placed his elbows on the table to get closer, bringing his palm down on the table to accompany his epiphany and following statement.
“So that’s why you fight like that! Why didn’t you tell us from the start?”
Relief. Julia lowered the spoon, breathing out at the sudden end of the hostilities.
“Julia!”
“Hi Cleo!”
The sisters smiled at each other through the videophone screen.
“How are you? Everything all right?”
Cleo’s piercing gaze lingered on the fleeting uncertainty of Julia’s smile, on the concern lurking in her eyes.
“Yes, all good. I had a talk with my classmates today, I’m going to start having lunch with them…”
Soldier Mayne unstrapped her armor, slipping out of her technological breastplate and tossing it on the bed before resuming the conversation. She spoke quickly, hiding the embarrassment that had caused this brief pause.
“And then tomorrow we’re going into the Forest to look for some Terrorists.”
Cleo’s pale face became even whiter, if possible, and Julia spoke quickly to answer her sister’s silence.
“It shouldn’t be dangerous. We are still in training, after all. We’re going on a recon mission, not to war.”
“But you decided to call me just in case something happens, right?”
It was Julia’s turn to remain silent. Cleo forced herself to smile, failed, then tried to draw out her most reassuring tone.
“Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine.”
Her sister answered her words with a smile showing acceptance rather than anxiety, nodding.
“Yes, everything is going to be fine. If you don’t have any news tomorrow, you can be sure of it. But how are you?”
Cleo hesitated for a brief moment, as if uncertain about the answer.
“Quite well. I’m dating a planner who works with the Study Center. I met him while he was taking measures of our class for refurnishing. We’ll see how it goes.”
Julia’s smile broadened, lit up with sincere happiness.
“Good! I’m happy for you!”
The blonde girl looked at the time.
“I’m not keeping you up late, am I? I don’t want to deprive you of sleep.”
“No, don’t worry, we’re going tomorrow night.”
“Ok, ok.”
There was a brief pause, then Cleo picked up the topic again, smiling shyly.
“I’m glad you’re happy about this.”
Julia goggled.
“Of course! Why should I not be happy for you if you’re dating someone?”
Cleo shrugged.
“Perhaps because I think Dreas isn’t exactly your type.”
“Well, you have to like him, not I.”
“True.”
Julia observed her sister’s thoughtful expression, slightly tilting her head on her left shoulder.
“How about you introduce me to him when I come back?”
Cleo smiled, nodding.
“Sure. I’m waiting for you.”
The night was encompassing, tangible. A white curtain of fog rose from the fertile soil of the Forest; the soldiers squinted to accustom their eyes to the darkness and gripped their rifles, even though they weren’t allowed to use them.
They walked in the moonlight, ignoring their flashlights for the moment. Julia followed Skintilla’s red hair, up at the front of the line: the Instructor moved silently and confidently in the thickening tangle of vegetation. The mist turned any nocturnal noise of the Forest into something disquieting, but those who were startled in the darkness bowed their heads and kept quiet - their orders were to remain silent.
Skintilla finally spoke, in a blank tone and without turning.
“We’ll have to make them spot us first. At night it’s practically impossible to catch the Terrorists by surprise. Turn the lights on, and in the worst case scenario, fire only at my order.”
Julia gripped the flashlight she wore on her hip, letting go of her rifle which now dangled from its shoulder strap. Skintilla had made it clear that the Terrorists were essentially nocturnal and disoriented by sudden and strong lights. With no permission to shoot if not in extreme circumstances, on a recon mission like that, the flashlight was the best weapon at Julia’s disposal.
The Forest appeared deep and impenetrable, but finally in the forced silence of their march, they all could distinctly hear the noise of leaves rustled by something far more physical than the wind – those who followed Skintilla’s eyes, like Julia, caught for a moment the source of the sound.
The Terrorists’ sentinel stood on a branch in all his 2 meters of height, a spectral epiphany in the milky light of the moon. His long and fair hair stretched all the way to his waist, where his clothing started, a pair of rough britches sown with the skin of some animal… but the eyes, the eyes were really striking, wild and extremely bright, in that face otherwise so human.
The Instructor barely opens her lips, starts raising an arm to point to their silent observer - before the words take shape, a dull thud, quick minor rustling.
The Terrorist leaves the small group behind, runs down his path, slides through the bushes like an arrow in the air, shatters the silence of the Forest with long, extended calls.
“Over there -”
Skintilla’s words, too late.
“Did he say attack or retreat?”
The question was an uncontrolled eruption from Julia’s lips, once the alarm had been given and no reason remained for the rigid silence of their earlier march.
Skintilla shook her head and shrugged nervously.
“I don’t know. We don’t know their language.”
“Shall we move on?”
The Instructor shot her a piercing look.
“No. We can’t risk falling into an ambush.”
The students tightened their circle, alert and wary, while Skintilla raised her head slightly towards the leafy ceiling, as if maximizing all her senses. The Forest was silent, and at last she broke the silence, curt and peremptory.
“We’ll have to make do with this sighting for today. Retreat.”
“Do you think Skintilla is unsatisfied? Did we make a lot of mistakes the other night?”
“On the contrary. You were silent enough to approach a village sentinel as a first sighting.”
Marcus’ voice was calm and reassuring as usual.
“You had to retreat because you were performing a recon mission, not an attack - there would have been casualties in a battle.”
Small wr
inkles formed on Julia’s forehead due to her thoughtful expression, and the Secretary was quick to catch it. With an uncommon and unexpected gesture he placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder, gently forcing her to look at him in the eyes.
“Never underestimate your enemy. I know what you’re thinking. How can they worry us, when we have flashlights and rifles and they have spears and arrows.”
Marcus pointed to the sky and the sun with his free hand, without letting go of Julia’s shoulder.
“By day, you’re right, they’re not a problem. That’s why they hide. But at night… at night they act before us and more precisely. We don’t wear plastiresin armor because it looks good. Skilled spears and arrows can kill before you even get a chance to open fire.”
Julia could only nod in acknowledgement, somehow surprised by Marcus’ intensity. He fell silent and let his hand fall back down. She decided to break the silence.
“I was thinking about something else as well.”
The Secretary lifted his gaze and answered with his usual tone, light and curious.
“I’m listening.”
“Skintilla said we don’t know the Terrorists’ language…”
“It’s true.”
“… and yet if we could translate it, we could prevent many of their operations.”
“This is true, but they are usually not prone to conversation. The rare times we had a chance of capturing some individuals alive, they shut themselves in a stubborn silence and let themselves die.”
The girl looked towards the green expanse of the Forest, beyond the walls.
“It’s a pity. I would have liked to know that the Terrorist said, the other night.”
Marcus hesitated before answering, his gaze momentarily distant.
“Perhaps you have given me an idea. I was thinking we could elaborate some kind of interpretation of their language studying statistics of cause/effect from recordings of their vocalizations.”
Julia tilted her head, surprised by this speculation and by the reasoning the Secretary seemed to be carrying first of all with himself, and only secondarily with her.
“Interesting.”
Marcus stopped talking to himself and smiled at her.
“I’ll talk about it with the Knowledge Department of the Ministry.”
The classroom was bright, with diagonal beams of sunlight cutting through the room, casting pools of liquid gold on the wooden floor. Skintilla was standing in front of the entire course, her hair shiny and similar to a flame sending out thousands of reflections. She spoke with a warm voice which carried a certain amount of unconcealed pride.
“We have returned without casualties from our first sighting in the Forest. This is a success, because it means we have acted with coordination and without mistakes.”
The Instructor wasn’t the kind of person accustomed to wasting time in useless compliments - her appreciation gave way to shoulder patting and handshakes in the group, who received these words as sincere. While observing the group, Julia noticed that Marcus was watching carefully from a corner of the room – when their eyes met, he smiled and greeted her with a small saluting gesture.
Skintilla waited for the buzz created by her words to pass, before continuing her speech.
“We have studied together how to defend ourselves, with or without weapons; how to deal with the requests of our friends and the threats of our enemies. We have probed the depths of the Forest and discovered the power of music.”
The Instructor allowed herself to endow her students with a satisfied smile.
“We may say all this has yielded its results.”
Julia was listening carefully, her head relaxed and slightly tilted sideways. Thanks to her Ministry experience she knew well enough that the whole point of the speech had yet to come.
Skintilla artfully cleared her voice, in an implicit signal that underlined the following words, making them stand out among the others.
“In the following days you’ll start a next phase of your training.”
The joyful atmosphere became something close to sincere bewilderment, observed with interest by Marcus and Julia both from their respective positions: one was mentally registering the student’s reaction to the news, the other slightly smiling at herself for having guessed in advance the logical conclusion of the speech.
Despite Skintilla’s compliments, they weren’t ready yet.
The group was pouring out of the classroom, which was becoming more and more silent with the gradual departure of buzzing comments to the Instructor’s speech. Marcus’ eyes followed Julia, who was keeping herself at the end of the line, listening to everyone and keeping her opinion to herself. He slowly reached her side, and she lagged behind in order to place a distance between her and the others.
“The ending of Skintilla’s speech didn’t surprise you, did it?”
Julia shook her head, ruffling her hair in doing so, and shrugged.
“Let’s say that since I don’t quite feel ready for the Advanced Corps yet, I didn’t expect her to promote us, besides congratulating us.”
Marcus thoughtfully nodded, sporting a half smile which somehow looked almost bitter.
“As for feeling ready, you probably never will until you experiment your role.”
He adjusted his wording when he saw the girl’s worried face, and smiled at her.
“For the rest, your reasoning is correct.”
They walked down the central path of the base, and Julia shot a glance at the treetops of the Forest, as they swayed in the afternoon breeze. Marcus followed her eyes.
“We won’t be holding our lesson today.”
He briefly looked at the ground, before looking back at her.
“You are correct. I approached you because I wanted to say goodbye. I’m leaving.”
Julia remained petrified, feeling abandoned and terribly foolish. She looked distant while listening to Marcus’ words.
“You no longer have gaps to fill, in comparison to the others here. My presence is no longer necessary.”
Student Mayne lowered her head and sketched a small curtsy.
“Goodbye then, and my sincere thanks for the time dedicated to me, Secretary.”
He answered with his cheerful voice, resounding of controlled laughter, making her raise her eyes to meet his gaze.
“There is no need to return to formality, Julia. Nothing changes between us. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”
“Very well. See you soon, then. Goodbye Marcus.”
She couldn’t think of anything else to say, but she tried to smile. Then she shut herself in her room to think.
She flopped on the bed, frustrated by her own sadness. She stared at the videophone for a while, fighting with her wish to call Cleo, but she only had one call left, and one communication so close to the other would only alarm her sister, and burn all possibility of contact for an indefinite amount of time.
Rolling on her side, she turned her back to the videophone, her feet still sticking out from the foot of the bed. She messily kicked away her boots, crawled her way upwards to place her head on the pillow, and curled up with her knees close to her chest.
Marcus’ departure was a stinging ache, and she was now missing someone who could provide answers. Instructor Skintilla wasn’t particularly keen on conversation and her classmates were still distant figures, even though they were no longer hostile. Furthermore, the Secretary’s knowledge was difficult to equal in span and depth.
She rolled once again on the bed, finally noticing the chair next to the wardrobe where she usually piled her clothes, and the small object resting on a piece of paper.
Since I take it you like music, I decided to leave you some to study before our next chat on the matter.
You will find all kinds of melodies. From tracks good for relaxing, to those stimulating motivational centers or meditation. With the due nuances, of course.
Enjoy!
/>
M.
Julia smiled while reading the card, then examined the gadget the Secretary had left for her. It looked similar to the remote control that had regulated the Ministry’s hologram projector, but it was connected to a wire ending in two extremities she decided to interpret as earphones.
She placed the soft plastiresin spheres in her ears and turned the device on. And then, she was no longer alone. She was embraced by a waterfall of notes, charmed in their spell for hours, staring at the ceiling and studying new worlds, in the flow of music.
She got up at last to go to dinner, since her presence was required. The flat afternoon with no lessons had revealed itself an odd experience. She removed her earphones and delicately placed the music device on the chair next to the bed.
She brushed her fingertips on the precious instrument with a silent smile of thanks for Marcus, before pulling her boots on and exiting the room.
“Hey, Mayne!”
On her way out, she crossed Kob, who was probably heading to dining hall as well. They met in the corridor and he spoke to her confidentially, as they walked the distance together.
“Since you’re always informed about things, do you happen to know when the new phase the Instructor was talking about is going to begin?”
Julia shook her head, truthfully.
“Unfortunately not. I know nothing more than what we were told earlier on.”
Kob snorted.
“I hope it’s going to start soon. I didn’t know what to do this afternoon.”
“I don’t think they’ll keep us waiting for a long time.”
“You think so? I hope so.”
“I do think so. It’s not in the Empire’s interest to slow down our training, if not for a reason.”
“Do you see this reason?”
“Relax. I don’t.”
Later that night, in the private darkness of her room, hands crossed on her stomach – intent on elaborating nutrition from the recent meal – Julia found herself pondering on the conversation with Kob. A new phase was about to begin, and the absence of an important guide like Marcus was considerable.
Julia Dream Page 5
