Prophet of ConFree (The Prophet of ConFree)

Home > Other > Prophet of ConFree (The Prophet of ConFree) > Page 6
Prophet of ConFree (The Prophet of ConFree) Page 6

by Marshall S. Thomas


  Δ

  "Don't stand there like a dummy! Open the door and go in!" the black uniform shouted at me. The little light over the door had just blinked from red to green and my reaction was evidently not fast enough to suit my latest tormentor. I pushed the door open and let it close behind me. I stood at attention before a black-uniformed official sitting behind a desk. I suspected he was an officer, but I was so new I didn't even know how to tell. He looked up at me. He looked quite young, black hair, a little black mustache.

  "Rains?"

  "Sir yes sir."

  "Why did you want to join the Legion?"

  "Sir. I wanted to help, sir, to do my duty and defend ConFree."

  "Well said. Now tell me why you really joined the Legion." His gaze shifted to his d-screen. I knew he had my whole history there.

  "I got in trouble and was facing exile from my home planet. A Legion recruiter suggested that I volunteer. "

  "I see. So you volunteered."

  "Yes sir."

  "A reluctant volunteer."

  "No sir! I am not reluctant."

  "You had no choice. Right?"

  "I did have a choice, sir. I could have chosen exile. But I chose the Legion."

  "How can we trust you?"

  "I'm here, sir. I'm fascinated by what I've seen so far. I'm going to make a good trooper."

  "Oh really."

  "Yes sir."

  "Tell you what, Rains. We don't want people who don't want to be here. If you want, you can stop this process right now. I'll invalidate your enlistment, we'll put you back on the ship and send you back to Eugarat, and you take your chances with the courts. Exile may not be so bad. At least, nobody will be shooting at you. Just sign at the bottom." He slid a portascreen across his desk to face me. I looked at it, and it looked at me.

  "Sir no sir. I don't want to go back to Eugarat."

  "Are you certain? This is a one-time offer. Your only chance."

  "I don't want it, sir."

  "Good. Good. In that case, proceed through that door and continue your processing. And congratulations on your choice, trooper."

  Trooper, I thought as I walked out the door. He called me trooper. It felt good.

  Δ

  "Find your name, take your bin, and proceed outside. Now, bodies. Now!" The bins were the same ones where we had abandoned our clothing earlier. Now they were lined up on a beltway along the corridor, overflowing with clothing packs, hats, new boots, belts, field manuals and miscellaneous equipment. I found mine labeled Rains, Richard, and hauled it outside into a disorganized mob of recruits clad only in shorts and sleeveless tops. It was a clear day but getting warmer. The girls were back with us, and they all looked good in their khaki panties and near transparent khaki tops. No bras, I noticed. They hadn't been scalped, but their hair was considerably shorter. They didn't look happy, but I suppose we didn’t either.

  "SILENCE! Form into squads, facing front. Listen for your squad assignments!" There was such a babble of voices from the blackies that it was hard to hear. However, I heard my name from the nearest blackshirt and headed for him. Surprisingly, most of the people in my immediate vicinity were assigned to him, too. Perhaps there was method in their madness.

  Three black Legion fighters shot past us close overhead just like a trio of massive darts, and the shock wave almost deafened me. Providence was a noisy place.

  "Delta squad, pay attention now! Sound off when I call your name!" Our leader was a muscular Assidic who looked kind of like a human airtank. "Oswego, Kakatarn; Surinto, Jarleman; Rains, Richard…" We sounded off. Arie was not there. Too much to hope for, Richard, I thought. Who were these people? Males, females, I just had confusing glimpses as we lined up in formation behind our bins.

  "All present! Good. Follow me at double time and don't drop your bins." He took off at a trot and some of the other squads were breaking away, too. It wasn't easy jogging barefoot while carrying that big heavy damned bin full of weighty junk.

  We wound up at a squadmod, as I later learned it was called – a portable white plastic modular building built specifically to house one Legion squad. The designation was printed over the doorway: 1/4 Delta. We were all gasping from the exertion, but our Assidic primitive urged us inside. We stumbled in and stood there in confusion looking around as he barked orders. The interior was also white, spotless, seemingly brand new and well designed – a transparent roof let in the sunlight. Five bunks lined each wall to the left and to the right. A small central area featured a circular table and plastic benches and a kitchen mod. To the rear were heads separately designated for males and females, and a small separate room with a closed door marked Training Instructor.

  "All right, let's MOVE – we don't have much time," our leader exclaimed. "Choose a bunk, drop your bin by the foot of the bed, open the clothes packs, put on khaki fatigue trousers long and khaki blouse long. Put on black socks and brown leather boots and green web belt NOW, bodies. NOW!"

  Another confusing dance ensued. He hadn’t said to strip off anything so we wore our undies and sleeveless top under the new clothing and were ready in record time. At least it seemed to me that it was record time.

  "Field hats – NOW!" We scrambled, donned the hats and stood there, gasping. I sneaked a look around at my companions. One, two Outworlder males – three, counting me. A male Assidic. A male, olive skin, unknown ethnicity. Two females, a blonde Outworlder angel and a black Cyrillian girl. That's seven. Squads are supposed to have ten. WTH, over.

  "Attention! Stand at attention before your bunks! Just don't move a muscle." He re-opened the main door and a trooper in black strolled in.

  "Sir!" our leader said. "Your squad is ready for inspection." Our visitor took his time looking us over. He was medium height, slim and wiry, close cut brown hair, piercing grey eyes – oh no. No! It was Doggie.

  Doggie! Our new squad leader. Oh no – this was not going to work out at all.

  "I see seven bodies, trooper," Doggie said. "Please explain."

  "We have two body holds, sir. Our aircar driver has not yet been designated – word is all air assets are to be assigned later. The other body is also on hold. No details yet, sir."

  Doggie slowly took us all in. He paused briefly before me, then moved on, looking over every recruit.

  "Thank you, trooper," Doggie said, "I take command of this squad. You are relieved." The big Assidic saluted Doggie and left the squadmod.

  Doggie glanced at his chron, then spoke. "Welcome to Training Squad Delta of the First Training Platoon, Fourth Training Company, First Training Battalion. I am your training instructor and squad leader. My name is William Tregon and my designation is Delta One. You will address me as 'sir'. My mission is to make you into Legion soldiers. I aim to accomplish that, but you are all going to have to cooperate for that to happen. If I sense any resistance, I'll toss you out of the squad instantly, and if that happens, your future will be dark. Basic is not going to be easy but millions of Legion recruits have done it, and graduated. I advise you to obey orders, keep your eyes and ears open and your mouths shut. And no whining! I am going to get to know all of you, intimately, but we'll do the introductions later. Right now we all have an important appointment. Outside! On me!"

  We lined up facing the squadmod at his direction. "Dress right!" he shouted. "Right arm out, touch the shoulder of the man to your right. Straighten the line. I will give this command again when we arrive. When we get there you will stand at attention until notified otherwise. There will be no talk and no movement. All right, follow me, double time."

  He took off jogging. We didn't know exactly what "double time" meant, but we had a general idea. We trotted after him, along a winding network of personnel roads through the base. The rest of the base seemed to be on the move, too – so many recruits, all in khaki, hustling down the roads in squads, all coming together into a huge parade ground. Hundreds – thousands – of new recruits, now slowing and marching into the assembly area. Doggie guided us into our
proper places, and we lined up, did the right dress, and stood at attention. There was a mass of humanity there. We had squads in front and behind us, and all around. It was a beautiful day, pale blue sky, no clouds, heating up quickly. The parade ground was rock hard, but I could tell it was dirt and not concrete. Many generations of Legion troopers had trained here, I reflected. We faced a distant dais with two tall flagpoles displaying the ConFree and Legion flags.

  As we stood there silent and motionless, I was kind of stunned by the sight. I was surrounded by thousands of new recruits, every race in the galaxy, all clad in khaki, all anxious to learn all they could, all pledged to live and die for the people of the Confederation of Free Worlds, all united in one great effort. What a pure, simple objective. And what a moving sight – this wasn't a vid or some proprop effort. These were real people, thousands of them, young people, just kids, boys and girls just out of midschool, volunteers from all over ConFree, and the Legion was going to forge them into a fearsome instrument to defend the women and children of ConFree, to hunt down our deadliest enemies and hammer them into submission.

  And now I was part of it. Me, Richard Rains. Who the hell was I? Nobody, I knew. But here I was, nevertheless, in the midst of this mighty host. I may not have been anybody before, but I was somebody now. I knew it. I was a soldier of the Legion – or would be, if I made the grade.

  Δ

  "Welcome to Veltros Training Command!" Loudspeakers blasted the words over the assembled recruits. The distant dais was now awash with black-clad officers. A merciful light breeze was calming my fevered brow. It was getting hot, and we had been braced at attention for some time. "I am Commander Keth Durris, C.O. of the Basic Training Course. Our mission here at BT is to build you all into soldiers and to instill in you all the skills and knowledge you will require to succeed in your mission. And your mission is the Legion mission – to counter, attack and destroy all the enemies of the people of the Confederation of Free Worlds. It is a life and death mission for you, and for our civilization. It is vital that you absorb all that we teach you, and then go on to Advanced Combat Training and then to an active Legion unit. Your instructors are our most experienced warriors. Listen to what they say, obey orders and don't fight the program. We will teach you what you need to know to stay alive and to confound our foes."

  The commander paused briefly, and it appeared that he was looking over the troops. "You are the future," he said, slowly. "The future of ConFree. You are all volunteers, and you have all qualified for BT. You are the cream of ConFree youth. The strongest, the smartest, the best qualified raw material in the galaxy. You are the thin black line that will never retreat, that will never surrender. You are the spiritual descendants of the Eighth Legion, who died on Uldo so that we might live. "

  As he spoke, I looked nervously around me, and wished that I could become invisible. Strong? Smart? Best qualified? I was none of that. How the hell did I get into the Legion? Somebody hit me in the face, and it all happened. I surely didn't belong here. Descendants of the Eighth Legion? I knew history – the entire legion had been annihilated on Uldo by the Systies. Not one trooper had surrendered. They had fought to the death. Good Lord, I'm not a suicidal fanatic. I don't belong here. How long before they find out?

  "Now, BT is not easy. Some of you will drop out voluntarily and others will be dropped for cause. That's all right – we don't want either category. Either way, you will continue in the Legion and do useful work. But if you want to serve ConFree and the Legion best, and to see history, and to make history, and to stand boldly in that thin black line, I urge you to give it all you've got, and never give up. My best advice for BT: Open your mind and close your mouth. We'll do right by you."

  He said more – a lot more, but I didn't hear it. My mind was aflame. What was I doing here? How could I compete with the others? What should I do? Maybe I should have taken that ship back to Eugarat, my tail between my legs. But I didn't. I didn't. And he had called me "trooper". Maybe there was hope for me. Maybe.

  Δ

  "All right folks, let's get to know each other, shall we? Have a seat." We were back in the squadmod. Doggie gestured to the central table, and we cautiously slid on to the little benches, wondering what was coming next. After the welcoming ceremony, Doggie had marched us to a giant mess hall where we joined what seemed to be half the base for lunch. I looked around for Arie but didn’t spot him. Since none of us had eaten since the previous day, lunch was most welcome. We each were given a sealed hot tray full of delicious food, soup and salad and tasty meats and carbs and veggies and fruits. We had no choice of menus but we had no complaints either. I swear it was the best meal I had ever eaten – maybe just because I was starving. Doggie gave us 15 marks and then marched us back to the squadmod, directed us to use the heads and then ordered us to the table to sit and stay. Yeah, it sure looked like he was used to working with dogs.

  "Normally," Doggie said, "I'd order ten minutes of strenuous exercises at this point, and watch you barf out your meals, just for my amusement. But just to show you what a nice guy I really am, we're going to do a social thing instead. I know a lot about each of you, but I'd like to hear more from yourselves. And I'd like each of you to get to know your comrades here in Delta Squad." He was leaning casually against a wall as we sat around the table. "It's all about teamwork, you see. And the teamwork is going to start right here. You seem to be a close-mouthed bunch. Let's see if anybody knows how to talk. I'd like each of you to say a little about yourselves. Name, where you came from, background, maybe why you signed up and what you hope to accomplish. Don't be too wordy. Just give us a brief summary."

  Silence.

  "Don't all speak up at once," Doggie said.

  More silence.

  "We can do the exercises if you'd like. All right, Overmar, we'll start with you. Speak."

  Overmar was a young Outworlder male. I had wondered about him. He had dark brown eyes and deeply tanned flesh that spoke of years outdoors under the sun. There was something about him – a quiet confidence, an exceptional alertness and a sense of maturity and experience that set him apart from his colleagues. Or maybe it was just my imagination.

  Overmar stirred, looked around carefully, and spoke softly, "My name is Harold Overmar," he said. He paused, calm and thoughtful, and resumed. "That's about it."

  We burst into laughter. Even that frosty blonde honey cracked a smile. It was the first time I had seen her do that.

  Doggie was also laughing. The guy is human after all, I thought. "All right," Doggie said. "Thanks for sharing that with us, Overmar. You'll be our mystery man for awhile. Moving right along – Surinto, how about you? And give us some details, all right?"

  "Certainly," Surinto said. This was the fellow with olive skin. He was slender, his facial structure was delicate and his eyes were brown. From his shaven head, it appeared that his hair was black. "My name is Jarleman Surinto. I am from Veda. I recently graduated from the University of Victoria with a doctorate of science in human development. My thesis was on racial evolution in the Outworlder Diaspora."

  We all sat there, stunned. Had we heard that right?

  "Yes, I was puzzled when I saw that PhD in your file," Doggie remarked. "Can you tell us what motivated you to join the Legion?"

  "Well, ConFree has treated me well, and I wanted to give something back."

  "But surely you would be more suited to a commission, to OCS. With your educational background, they'd snap you up right away."

  "Ah yes, that was suggested but I turned them down."

  "Why?"

  "I wanted to serve in enlisted ranks."

  "And why is that?"

  "I promised myself that I would do it."

  "Can you tell us why?"

  For awhile I thought he was not going to answer. Then he did. "Have you heard of the Ringgold incident?" he asked.

  "Yes." Doggie appeared startled.

  "I lost my whole family – everyone I loved. I was left with nothing. I fin
ished up my doctorate and then walked through the Legion Gate."

  We were all speechless for a moment. I had not heard about the Ringgold incident. Then Doggie spoke up. "We're sorry to hear that, Surinto. All right – Rains. Speak."

  "My name is Richard Rains," I said, "and I'm nobody. I just graduated middle school on Eugarat, and I realized I was going nowhere fast. I decided to do something worthwhile. And here I am."

  "Good. Oswego?" That was the Cyrillian girl. So far I hadn't heard her say a word. I wasn't sure if she was sullen or just shy. She looked around nervously and spoke.

  "I am Kakatarn Oswego. I am from Mica 3. I also recently graduated from middle school. The people of ConFree gave me an education, and I appreciate it. I want to serve in the Legion for the people of ConFree and become a citizen, if I can." She sounded perfectly sincere. I watched her as she spoke. I was fascinated by her. Although her skin was black, she did not have the sharpened teeth that I thought was a Cyrillian trademark. Her pearly teeth were perfectly formed, regular, and very white. Her black hair was glossy smooth. And her face – the features were delicate, clean and lovely. She had clear, light brown eyes, and her skin – it was almost like satin. The girl with satin skin, I thought. She was a honey.

  "Thank you, Oswego. All right, Burns. Let's hear it."

  Burns was a young Outworlder, and he gave us a big smile. He had fair skin with a few freckles and bright blue eyes and a hint of blond stubble on his shaven scalp. "My name is Byron Burns," he began. "My family are reunification refugees from Katag 2 – that's in the Pherdan Federation. I was just a kid on Katag, but I can still remember it. We were slaves. The Kats hated Outworlders, and I had to fight my way through elementary school. Everything they taught us was a lie. When I was old enough, my dad taught me the truth but warned me never to repeat it, or we would all face PsyMed. When we arrived in ConFree, we were overjoyed. The reunification program meant liberation and freedom for thousands of Outworlders. I vowed right away that I was going to join the Legion on my seventeenth birthday. And I did. I'm real happy to be here!" And he smiled again. Strange, I thought. He loves and appreciates ConFree. He sees the truth. I've had the truth all along but never appreciated it. I was just a selfish parasite. Maybe I'm learning something here. Maybe.

 

‹ Prev