Learning the Hard Way 1

by H. P. Caledon

  “So each Spec Edit ship is a battle station in itself,” the physician concluded.

  “Exactly.” Lewis nodded. “We take on new recruits on the planets and train them on the ship. We have simulators for everything from regular flying to intense three-dimensional battle training. We have training areas, pools—”

  “Interrogation facilities,” the physician said. Lewis stayed quiet and glanced at Mike. “He knows more than you do at this point, Lieutenant.”

  Mike looked from the physician to Lewis before shrugging.

  “Yes, we have interrogation facilities, too.” Lewis stopped and turned to face the physician, but he never got around to saying what was on his mind as the commanding officer rounded a corner nearby and came their way. He stopped in front of Lewis.

  “Lieutenant, are these the new men?” He looked them over, his gaze growing skeptical as it landed on Mike. “Have you been checked out by a physician?”

  “Yes, Admiral Heckman, I was discharged from the medical wing this morning.”

  Lewis was unsuccessful at hiding a smirk.

  “Lieutenant, inform me instead of standing there with a grin on your face!”

  “Yes, sir,” Lewis said, unable to smother a chuckle. “The young... yellow and blue man here is Sergeant Mike Thomas Matthews from level two. I didn’t recognize him either, sir.”

  “Hmm... red suits you better.” Heckman took a gentle hold on Mike’s chin to get a better look at him. “Take a shower, report to the physician, and put on a blank uniform.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mike said, but stayed.

  “And you must be the physician the lieutenant hired,” Heckman said and turned to face the physician. An expression of doubt crossed his features.

  “Admiral, this man has applied for the position in sector seven,” Lewis said.

  Heckman leaned toward Lewis and lowered his voice ever so slightly. “Thought you said you hired a physician.”

  “I hired the physician. Don’t know his name yet, sir,” Lewis explained.

  “Hmm.” Heckman stood back up, looking inquisitively at the physician. “I’d very much like to be present for that part of the conversation,” he said and followed them.

  The medical wing was right next to sector seven on level one for practical reasons, as interrogations could sometimes end with the interrogated needing medical attention after or during. So Mike followed them there as it was on his way.

  “I am only called the physician. I never received any actual medical training, but I can, in theory, fill a position as assistant in the medical wing. You know, broken fingers, sprained ankles. That sort.”

  Heckman and Lewis looked pleased, and Heckman showed them down a hall in the medical wing.

  A nurse exited a room and stepped out in front of Mike. “Oh, my... goodness,” she yelped. Her little cough and attempt to discreetly cover her nose did not go unnoticed.

  “Maybe you should both shower,” Heckman suggested.

  The nurse smiled from behind her hand and pointed them down the hall. Mike and the Physician continued to the shower room.

  “I always shower alone.” The physician took a seat on a bench while Mike stripped to step into one of the many shower stalls.

  “Yeah, I tried to make a habit of that luxury in Delta Zeich too, but it didn’t work out as planned. Here it’s impossible to—”

  “I always shower alone,” the physician repeated.

  Mike turned to look at him. “Okay, fine. There’s a shower and dressing room. We’ll take turns.”

  The physician looked skeptical and made himself comfortable. “You need those stitches on your back checked. You want me to?”

  “No! I want the sweet and gentler nurse out there to do that, thank you.” Mike tried to look over his shoulder at the stitches. Impossible, though.

  “Fair enough,” the physician mumbled.

  Mike enjoyed his shower, but he’d never been stitched up the way he was now so he didn’t dare let the skin get too soaked from fear the stitches would go through the skin or something. He did promise himself that as soon as the stitches were out, he would take the longest and warmest shower he ever had. Maybe boil the stench of the hell pit out of his pores.

  The physician still sat on the bench with all his clothes on when Mike came out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Your turn. There are work-suits in that closet when you’re done. Just leave your old clothes, a service worker will take care of it,” Mike said and exited the bath.

  “Is it possible to lock the door?”

  “Yeah, it’s voice activated, just ask it to.” Mike left the room.

  The young nurse smiled at Mike as he came toward her. She was waiting along with Lewis and Heckman, but her eyes betrayed her and revealed how worried she was to see the injuries.

  “Much better,” she said and stepped aside so he could precede her into the room.

  Mike stopped by Lewis. “The physician isn’t finished yet. Think he’s shy, because he wanted to wait until I was done so he could lock the door.”

  “He can’t lock the door since there’s no file on him in the voice recognition program yet,” Lewis said, walking to the bath. “Physician... wow!” Lewis staggered backward into the hall.

  “Get in here and lock that door!” the physician bellowed. Lewis went in and the door shut behind him.

  “What was that?” Heckman asked.

  “No idea. Think Lewis will call out if he needs help, though. Don’t you?”

  Heckman shot Mike a nervous glance. “Go get checked out. I’ll wait for Lewis.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  The physician, Lewis, and Heckman were all waiting for Mike outside the door as the nurse finished and let Mike leave. The physician looked misplaced in the red work suit, but the red color was a sharp contrast to Lewis’ complete lack of facial color.

  “Lieutenant?” Mike asked. Lewis smiled joylessly.

  “The lieutenant and I will show the physician his new quarters. You can go to level two and see whether you can find any familiar faces.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  “Besides Lewis, Mike is the only one who knows even a little bit about me. It might be best if he tags along so he can fill you in further if you need advice.”

  Lewis and Heckman had exchanged glances before they looked at Mike. Mike felt insecure from the look in Lewis’ eyes.

  “Admiral, may I request Harrison’s presence?” Lewis asked. Heckman looked at him and finally agreed on what seemed to be confidence in Lewis’ assessment of the situation. Heckman punched something in on his extensor-pad and folded his hands behind his back. Mike had always wondered how heavy the extensor-pad was in comparison to the flexor-pad that every other soldier wore. Since the highest-ranking officers needed that much more data and access in their wrist comms—or in their case lower arm comms—it had to be much heavier, yet necessary. Especially since they had a screen big enough to actually be able to have a VID-conversation.

  “Lieutenant Harrison will meet us in sector seven.” Heckman turned on his heels and walked away.

  They reached sector seven, and moments later Lieutenant Harrison came jogging their way. He saluted and looked at Lewis, puzzled.

  “Where’s your tan?”

  “I lost it back there,” Lewis said and pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

  Harrison nodded, looked at Mike, and grew wide-eyed. “Matthews?”

  Mike smiled theatrically, and Harrison was given the quick and ugly version as they made their way to the physician’s quarters. Heckman unlocked the door, and he and the physician stepped in while Lewis pulled Mike to a side.

  “How well did you know that man before you called in that request?” Lewis asked with calmness, incompatible with the look in his eyes—a look that made Harrison seem alarmed, too. Mike knew from experience that things were bad, then.

  “Not well, but he saved my life. On more than one occasion.”

  “Do you know who
or rather what he is?” Lewis asked. Mike sucked in air to answer, but then stayed quiet and looked away. “You feel loyalty toward him, don’t you?”

  Mike glanced at Lewis and nodded.

  “You always were a loyal man,” Harrison said.

  “Yeah, until I got rented out as a party favor to the meanest and most sadistic sons of bitches with very loose hands and an intense hate for mercenaries,” Mike sneered through clenched teeth. “One’s ability to know friend from foe really suffers from something like that!” The look in Keelan’s eyes the morning he left the cell and was sent to isolation played in Mike’s mind. No deceit was there, he remembered. Yeah, that ability really suffered.

  “That’s why I asked for your presence, Harrison,” Lewis said and tapped Harrison’s stomach. Mike thought it to be an odd gesture, but Harrison suddenly seemed thoroughly updated.

  “He wasn’t the one who rented me out or beat me, he saved me from—” Mike began, but Lewis interrupted him.

  “Mike, I have only once in my life been scared enough to piss myself. I was seven years old, and varanuides and masikills were battling in our yard. When I entered that shower room I was this close.” Lewis measured a few millimeters between thumb and index finger.

  Mike remembered the tales of the hundreds of years’ battle between those two most infamous warrior species in the United Systems.

  “I know you’re loyal, but we’re gonna need more information on that physician,” Lewis continued.

  “Physician? That guy’s a physician?” Harrison asked in disbelief.

  “No, but I’m good at patching up the slaves while I break them in,” said a voice behind them. Lewis and Harrison turned to face the physician.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Mike mumbled and felt five years old. He couldn’t even muster eye contact with the physician.

  “It’s okay, Mike. They have to know this. Lewis just knows a bit more now.” The physician stared at Lewis so long and so intensely that Mike noticed Lewis was holding his breath.

  Heckman came to their rescue. “Shall we go to my office and get the rest sorted out?”

  “Maybe getting something to eat would be good for Mike,” the physician said without taking his eyes off Lewis.

  “Me?”

  “When did you last eat, Mike?” the physician asked, still not removing his gaze from Lewis.

  “Uhm, lunch yesterday, I think.”

  Lewis tore his focus away from the physician and stared at Mike. “Yesterday? My God, it’s almost evening in the prison. They starved you?”

  “He is a bit thinner than I remember him,” Harrison said.

  “Okay, food and then my office.”

  Chapter Eight

  Mike and the Physician got in line in the mess hall on level one along with Lewis and Harrison.

  “How is it with food and stuff? Is it deducted from my pay or?” the physician asked.

  “No, it’s part of it,” Lewis said. The physician and Mike were placed at the officer’s table. Mike sat next to the physician while Lewis and Harrison sat across from them.

  “Mike, no one’s going to take your food here,” Harrison said.

  Mike looked up with his mouth full, and he swallowed quickly. “What do you mean, sir?”

  Harrison looked sad as he pointed, and Mike noticed the way he was sitting—he had his arm around the tray as if guarding it and was hunched over so no one could get to it.

  Mike glanced at the physician, who sat more comfortably leaned back. “Sorry.” Mike forced himself more upright. The physician arched a brow at him, and Mike tried to think whether he’d forgotten something. He couldn’t remember what, if he had, so he fidgeted with his fork and didn’t eat.

  “Eat, Mike,” the physician said.

  “Yeah... ” Mike ate with slow and deliberate movements, which gave him time to notice that Lewis and Harrison were watching him discreetly.

  They finished about the same time, and Mike got up and collected the physician’s tray with his own. It wasn’t until he noticed Lewis’ stern and inquisitive look at the physician that Mike noticed what he’d done and he froze.

  “Thanks, Mike.” The physician took both trays from him. Mike tried to smile, but it felt painted on his face, so he looked away. Not even being back in these familiar surroundings had taken away those odd jobs as the physician’s slave, and he didn’t even think about it anymore. He hated it and felt like a stranger to himself.

  Lewis and Harrison walked with them to Heckman’s office. He was on the VID.

  “Come in, take a seat. I’ll be right there.” Heckman rose from his seat and nodded at whoever he was talking to on the VID before ending the call. They all took a seat around the conference table. “I have an employment contract here.” Heckman placed a pad in front of the physician. “But there are also some technical details to be taken care of. Mike, your freedom has been bought—”

  “Sir, there are incidents in the prison that we need to take into consideration before we take this further,” Lewis said.

  “Oh, such as?”

  “It might be best if the admiral spoke to Mike about this,” the physician said, once again staring at Lewis.

  “What happened, Matthews?” Heckman asked.

  Mike contemplated it, but he had no idea where to begin. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to talk about it. Not with Heckman at least.

  “There... they... uhm,” Mike began but finally looked at the physician.

  “Mike, would you like me to contribute with what I know?”

  “Yes, please.” Mike stared at his hands. To see the way they looked at him as the physician explained the connections would be too humiliating. At that moment, he was thankful the physician had taken him in.

  “Mike has been robbed of a part of himself that people normally don’t think can be stolen. Everything from trust, morals, confidence, and sense of identity. It’s even easier than people think. In Mike’s case, his knowledge was traded for safety. When that safely became Mike’s only means of survival, that safety was taken from him. This left Mike totally exposed and vulnerable. In the long run, this cost him the ability to judge a situation and Mike’s common sense is right now pretty ineffective.”

  “Hey,” Mike said indignantly, looking up at the physician, who arched a brow at him. Mike looked away, quickly.

  “And there was your proof,” the physician said.

  “Did you break him?” Lewis asked. Mike looked up.

  “Mike acted as my slave during an interrogation where that act was the tool against the subject’s mind. The best way to secure Mike in the prison was to have Mike with me as a slave. My reputation was known in every corner of the prison. But when we were in my corner of the prison, Mike was always alone. It was my hope that Mike wouldn’t grow too dependent on me and hand over more of his free will than I had to demanded of him to keep Mike safe.”

  “Why do you use Mike’s name so much?” Harrison asked.

  “To remind Mike that he has a name,” the physician said.

  “As in the six slave rules?”

  “Mike knows them. Grew up next to a trainer. Varanuide.”

  Mike couldn’t look up. Instead, he tried to recognize all that in himself and thought about the slave rules. Especially the first, since it was the one the physician was referring to. A slave is not a human, but a tool, and therefore not worthy of an identity. Even the second rule about not being allowed eye contact with a free man or species seemed partly implemented at times. To Mike’s horror, he remembered that even the sixth rule came into play, as it was the physician who’d made sure Mike was fed before they got to their meeting. Was he really that much more destroyed in the head than he thought? Judging from the shocked looks in Lewis’ and Harrison’s faces, he might be.

  “How can we help Mike?” Heckman asked.

  “I applied for the job in sector seven because I’m good at fucking up the human psyche. The human mind is the only thing I’ve never tried to patch up agai
n. Mike grew up next to a pack of varanuides. Do you know any varanuides now, Mike?”

  “No.”

  “You think Mike should visit a pack?” Lewis asked.

  “Yes, preferably one with silver slaves, since this species doesn’t need a damaged mind as much as most human masters do.”

  “Can’t I... ” Mike went quiet, suddenly not sure whether it would be appropriate to ask. Rule four. And that was when it hit him just how much of the slave mentality he’d actually adopted being around the physician.

  “Mike, you need to be far away from me!” the physician said.

  “Okay.”

  “For a while at least. And you need time to find yourself—the man you were before Rainer destroyed you,” the physician said. Mike looked up. “It was Rainer who took Keelan from you.” The physician went silent and stared at Mike. “Look me in the eye.” Mike did, hesitantly. “I didn’t do this, I didn’t break you. You let something gnaw away at your soul. Fix it, Mike. This isn’t training as I thought. You let this happen to cover up something else.”

  “What? Why?” Mike asked, shocked by the physician’s ability to read people.

  “Your faith was stolen, Mike. Your loyalty?” the physician asked. Mike stared at the table, contemplating what the physician said. “In the meantime, we can look at my employment contract.” The physician turned in his chair so he now had his side to Mike, ignoring his presence. Mike didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation—he was far away in thought.

  Mike retired to his room after the others had talked over his head for another two hours. He hadn’t heard anything they talked about, but he’d noticed Lewis’ concerned looks toward him a few times.

  Someone chimed at his door and broke his train of thought.

  “Come in.” Mike sat up in his bed. The door opened, and Lewis stepped in. Mike hurried to his feet.

  “Relax, you’re a civilian right now. Sit.”

  Mike did and looked around the small quarters. “You wanna sit?” He pointed at the chair.

  “Thanks.” Lewis took a seat. “Mike, I’m a bit nervous about all of this. You completely shut out the world when I told you that you were being released because someone needs your knowledge.” Mike looked away and was once again reminded of the look in Keelan’s eyes before he was sent to isolation. Still no deceit. “Mike, you’re doing it again.”