by D. P. Oberon
Saradi couldn’t help but think Trisdale appeared more interested in the robot than Peng himself.
“And finally, Buckingarra Freeman of the Torres Strait Boomerangs. The greatest scrum-half in the history of rugby. You gave up your lucrative career to serve your country.” He smacked Buckingarra’s hand in a manly handshake, and said, “I’m damn proud of you son. Damn proud.” His other hand clasped him on the shoulder. He turned and regarded the others. “This fellow is an exemplary specimen for all our citizens. If everyone was like him we wouldn’t be passing the Mandatory Service Act.”
Saradi felt herself shaking her head minutely. She wouldn’t be surprised if Trisdale and Buckingarra began to make love right there.
Saradi didn’t trust Trisdale. Something about him reminded Saradi of Alyona Pavlenko. When she had first met Alyona the woman had been exactly like this, welcoming, friendly, and inviting. In response Saradi had let down her guard. She would not be making that mistake again.
“You are now going to take the Vow of Service. Ninety one will project the words and you are to repeat them as the words scroll. Copy that?”
“Copy that, Sir,” replied Buckingarra.
“Yes,” said Yoriko.
Saradi and Peng just nodded and were rewarded by a slight narrowing of the eyes from Trisdale. He turned and clicked his fingers at the serv-bot 91. The bot hovered towards him. “Ninety-one will upload this as a record to SOHIC Archives.” The projection lights below the serv-bot’s eye began to glow.
Trisdale cleared his throat and nodded to Peng. “Ganmi will have to recite the vows too.”
Peng swallowed and bobbed his head. “Yes, Sir.” He turned and said, “Ganmi you need to recite the vows too.”
Ganmi melted out again and floated before him. The cube’s colors appeared more subdued.
“Begin with me,” Christian said, indicating to 91.
The serv-bot shot out a beam of light that turned into a holo-display. A dot below the words moved encouraging them to keep in synch. Trisdale said the vow as well, his loud voice leading them on.
Saradi heard her all their voices saying, “I do solemnly swear and pledge my allegiance and service until death or discharge to the Austra-Asian Empire Defense Force on this date, sixteenth of September in the year three hundred thirty nine thousand nine hundred ninety nine. I do so avow.”
“Welcome then, if you haven’t figured it out, you’re all in the same squad. Saradi here is your squad leader,” Trisdale said. The smile left his face. “In fifteen minutes at twenty-one forty-five exactly you are to meet me in SOHIC Central for Indoc.” He saluted them, back ramrod straight. “Dismissed.”
Saradi found herself returning the salute as crisply as she could. They followed 91 back out and then to their barracks.
#
The headquarters of Special Operations Human Intelligence Command sat in the middle of Fort Windradyne. The dome-shaped structure grew out of the ground and towered into the air fifty meters high. Its ironridge armored shell undulated slightly across a surface that collected the rust-colored sand of the desert. Defensive turrets splotched the dome’s surface at two meter intervals, looking like robotic starfish. Four entrances graced SOHIC HQ, one at each compass point, north, south, east, and west. The entrances consisted of travolators, stairs, and industrial elevators. Not a single window stared out from the dome, except for a reinforced transpasteel viewing platform at the very top.
Hundreds of feet down below at the eastern entrance, like a trail of dark ants, strode the new potential SOHIC recruits.
“Is there something up there?” Peng asked, squinting as he shaded his eyes against the dwindling sunset. He trundled behind the three members of his squad and tried to ignore the huge super-marines that patrolled the perimeter making the ground vibrate with their steps. Or the razor-tanks who clawed into the ground furrowing the earth, their huge nozzles pointing in the air. Triangular sentry-drones flew above the dome with their loud engines making it difficult to hear.
“It’s Warrant Officer Trisdale with a … somewhat speculative expression on his face. Probably wondering what he’s got himself into,” Saradi said, gesturing with her hands at the eighty other recruits that walked behind and in front of them. They all wore Austra-Asian Empire Defense Force uniforms. Except for Saradi and her squad, who wore formal civilian attire. That discrepancy disquieted Saradi. Were they the only civilians participating in Selection?
A travolator wide enough to fit four tanks groaned ahead. An archaic set of stairs, wide enough to accommodate the same, stood to the left of the travolator. Saradi noted that SOHIC personnel walked down the stairs; the travolator went unused.
“You can see Trisdale clearly from here?” Yoriko asked. The top of the dome from the ground looked hazy and indistinct.
Buckingarra said, “Get out of here, Sara. You’re joking. We’re at ground level. Sky’s dusty and the air’s filled with crap.” He punctuated this with a cough. “You ain’t seeing nothing.”
“Upgrades remember?” Saradi said, finding it weird that people doubted her. “Level ten.”
“Sheeet, Trisdale was serious when he said that?” Buckingarra said, his arms held out preventing Yoriko and Peng from going forward onto the travolator. A few disgruntled glances came from behind them.
“I am serious,” Saradi said.
“Flaming hot,” Buckingarra said. “I think the only other person the entire AAEDEF to have a level ten upgrade is General Topeora herself.”
“C’mon let’s go—” Saradi said just as a group of four huge recruits appeared. Two women and two men. To Saradi, they looked otherworldly. Obviously engineered with their necks twice the width of average people, their forearms striated and corded with veins and muscles that glinted with micro-circuitry. They sported white berets and shoved Buckingarra aside, scattering Peng and Yoriko like they were ants. The man in the lead sneered at Saradi as he forearmed her aside.
“Who are they?” Saradi said as they fell in behind a group of blue-clad recruits.
“Super-marines,” Peng said. “That guy who pushed you, that’s Chengmedu. He’s a war hero.”
“Super-marines try out for SOHIC?”
“Everyone tries out, Sara,” said Buckingarra. “I wouldn’t muck around with them. I know the swagger of a bully when I see one. Came across a few in my time as a Boomerang.” He had regaled all of them with his rugby exploits with the precious few minutes they’d had at their barracks. Saradi thought it strange somebody in his position would give it all up. She wondered about his story.
“According to this WikiPeeks article, Chengmedu’s entire squad is made up of war heroes,” said Peng. The upper left of his iris showed a slight flash of color as he accessed his AI.
“They told us to turn off our AIs,” Saradi said to him.
“Yes, sorry,” Peng said, and the light went out.
“Feels weird man, not having quick access to my AI,” Buckingarra said. “These guys like in the prehistoric times.”
Yoriko shook her head. “I think it’s more of a test.”
“Already? They haven’t even give us the intro, yo.” Buckingarra grunted and wrapped his beefy forearms around himself. He was the only one in their squad, size-wise, that came close to rivalling a super-marine.
The huge lip of the dome swallowed them as the neared the entrance. Yoriko stared up and grabbed at the travolator’s hand rails.
“Michiko would’ve seen this,” the Japanese woman said.
Saradi cocked her head, feeling her intuition click. “Toyoda?”
Yoriko nodded.
During their short stint at the barracks Saradi had accessed the AAEDEF compnode to search for information on Bheemasena. She said, “I found my younger brother’s squad and a list of all its members. There wasn’t a Ueno there, but the other Japanese name was a Toyoda.”
Yoriko nodded. Her eyes took on a watery appearance as the dome swallowed them. “My daughter married the infamous Samukuza leade
r. It was one of the reasons she left home.” Yoriko sighed, her face drooped, and her hands shook as she covered her face. “She was always doing things to anger me.”
Buckingarra became uncharacteristically silent. He patted Yoriko on the head and gave her a penetrating look. His brow furrowed and he licked his dark lips apprehensively. “Do you mean Griselda Toyoda?”
Yoriko looked at up and nodded. “The Oyabun.” The leader of the most infamous terrorist group in the known world. The Samukuza doctrine contained the honor and loyalty of the ancient samurai code with the ruthlessness of the Yakuza. Hence the name Samukuza.”
“Many lives have been destroyed by Griselda Toyoda.” Buckingarra’s voice was unusually soft. His eyes stared into the distance. Saradi thought there was something more there.
“Yoriko, I’m sorry,” Saradi whispered. She reached out and briefly clasped Yoriko’s shoulder. What was Yoriko doing here if Michiko had been declared dead?
“I’m sorry too,” said Peng. “My girlfriend, Ganmi, committed suicide. I still miss her.”
For a moment all four of them kept a deep silence. A certain immutable togetherness bound them close for those brief seconds.
The travolator disgorged the eighty recruits on a steelcrete floor that displayed an emblem of the Austra-Asian Defense Force embossed on it: a tri-colored shield of black, red, and blue. A yellow circle sat in the middle of the shield. Two boomerangs, one gold facing up and the other green facing down so that they crossed at their tips, were superimposed on the front of the shield. The blue part of the shield consisted of six stars, one for each country in the empire. Two super-marines stood at either side of the travolator.
“Gene-ID scan.” The words were issued by a robotic voice originating from the super-marines.
The recruits formed a line, and what seemed to be the tenth time that day their gene-IDs were scanned. Saradi’s turn came quickly and even at six-foot-two she had to stare up at the super-marine as the las-scan from his univisor cascaded over her in a net of green light. All the super-marines wore blue and gold armor.
As soon as everyone had been scanned they formed in neat rows of ten. Wide ironridge groaned open before them.
A black-clad SOHIC soldier stood in a pool of light with her arms crossed. She sported short hair and black shades that wrapped around her eyes, making it difficult to read her expression. A badge on her breast pocket showed a white brain on a background of green microcircuitry with the words “Who Wins Dares” embroidered on it.
The woman said, “I am Sergeant Penelope Ali of the First Independent Flight Squadron, Fort Windradyne SOHIC Regiment. You will address me as Instructor Ali from today until the day you quit or until you pass Selection.” She saluted at them. They saluted back.
Instructor Ali continued, “Everyone asks me: what is the difference between somebody who passes Selection and those who fail?” She tapped the side of her head. “This is where the greatest difference is.” She flexed her biceps. “Not this. Everybody has these.”
“Welcome to SOHIC Central. Follow me,” she said.
Chapter 17 – The Run
SOHIC HQ looked like the inside of a hollowed-out asteroid. The curved walls towered high above with flaring green holo-displays that blinked with translucent, animated icons. They displayed various battlefields. It looked to Saradi that the battles were live as she watched. A knot of apprehension tightened in Saradi’s gut.
Out of the circuit board and into the processor.
A slender bank of compute columns formed a boundary around an inner circular platform in the middle of the amphitheater. Holographic SOHIC personnel glowed blue as they floated from one bank of compute columns to another, as if they were in space. Some of these humanoid holograms even passed through walls. An eerie silence pervaded the entire area.
Instructor Ali said, “This is the SOHIC Strategic Nucleus Networks. These are the people who plan the missions for the entire AAEDEF military. These battles you see are taking place right now, live. The personnel in here chose to manifest their avatars here. They are simultaneously present in the battle.” She nodded at the ghostlike holograms.
“Come this way,” Instructor Ali said, leading them to the circular platform in the middle.
As soon as the eighty recruits entered the circular platform, a translucent barrier flared up around them plummeting them into a much denser silence and dimming so that they now stood in a dark spherical room. A lone pool of light highlighted a dais at the front of the room. The cold air tasted of mech lube.
Instructor Ali said, “You will notice there are black SOHIC helmets hovering in the air with the number one-zero-eight digi-glyphed above their sensors. This is your class number. You will also find your names and pre-assigned squad ranks. Assume your positions, now.”
Squad Leader Anantadevi was written in a blinking red font. The words hovered in the air at the end of a row of four helmets. The full face helmet was entirely smooth and black.
Peng’s jaw dropped. “Oh wow, BlackOrca helmets!” He shook his head as he gently caressed the surface of one. “These are custom manufactured by Huckler and Farzogba just for AAEDEF.” He tapped his fingers where a visor should have been. “No visors. See these small sensors that look like tiny bolts? Two at the front and two at the back. Three-sixty feed piped direct.” He tapped his head. “BlackOrcas can take direct hits from a gauss cannon.”
Yoriko, who stood next to Peng nodded her head slowly. “The helmet can take the force but our heads can’t.”
“With a full field sphere set I think you can,” Buckingarra said.
The entire class lined up in two columns of ten rows and a quiet murmuring filled the air. Several of them held their helmets, examining them.
Instructor Ali barked out, “Class one zero eight, attention.”
“Oorah,” replied a discordant mess from the assembled recruits. Saradi hadn’t even known to respond.
Warrant Officer Trisdale strode through the translucent field, saluted Instructor Ali, and assumed a position on the dais. He wore his formal black SOHIC uniform with glyphs glowing across his chest on both shoulders. Even though he only stood five-foot-two his squat form and barrel neck spoke of power. The slash of gray eyebrows furrowed his brow.
This was the man who had recruited Bheemasena when he was fifteen, and terrified her brother when he’d told him to join the military he had to be ready to kill people, even children in order to complete a mission.
“Selection,” Trisdale said, and let it hang in the air. “Many of you have heard of this word. Many of you here have been training your entire military careers to be given this one opportunity. There are no second attempts here.” His thick neck swivelled like a gun turret.
He continued, “Weeding out the weak, that is my responsibility, and I am here to ensure that only the most capable soldiers are sent to battle. Lives will be entrusted in your hands. Your actions will have ramifications on larger strategic decisions. SOHIC is the forceful arm of the Greatest Scientist herself. What she cannot achieve through diplomacy she achieves through violence: us. Her mandate is simple: to save the human race. That means you will sacrifice your life in order to achieve mission objectives.”
Saradi’s forehead creased in thought. She didn’t know the Greatest Scientist had a military arm. The newsnets only showed the Greatest Scientist on smiling diplomatic visits as she toured the sixteen empires. Saradi couldn’t help but admire the Machiavellian nature of that sweet-faced Sanatani. Sometimes you had to lie to people, either for their own good — the masses were stupid — or because it took too long to explain, or because you had to hide something that, if revealed, would wreak havoc across the empires.
Trisdale’s voice rose in volume. “To get to SOHIC-level proficiency you will achieve ten thousand hours in the next ten weeks. You will have no REM sleep. Your AIs will be connected when you hit your bed to play out virtual SIMs during your six hours of daily ‘sleep.’ You will discover the use of stinjections.
”
Stinjections? Saradi remembered Bheemasena talking about them. Stimulant injections. Apparently useful during battle when the enemy blew your leg right off. Peng bit his lip and jerked back in surprise. Yoriko rubbed at her chin, her face pensive. Buckingarra smiled.
“There are eighty recruits gathered here today to make twenty squads, four to a squad for those of you who are mathematically challenged. Selection failure rate is at ninety percent. Seventy-two of you who will go home. Nor will we accept the final two squads if they’re not up to standard.” Trisdale wet his throat from a canteen that resembled a dented grenade.
“Why are you here? What arrogance makes you think you deserve to stand in this room?”
The recruits in the room looked like they belonged there. Lean and wiry military men and women with their legs spread apart, their hands clasped behind their backs, and their backs ramrod straight. They stood in lines separated by military division of army, navy, and air-force, Saradi realized.
Forty-five minutes ago, Saradi had thought her squad decent, now a sinking feeling crept up on her. Yoriko’s wispy body, heart-wrenching loss, and confused stare; Peng with his pasty egg skin, belly that jutted out like a ball, and tech fetish; and Buckingarra, filled with so much bluster Saradi couldn’t tell what percentage of bona fide strong guy, if any, sat inside of him. We’re the only civilian squad present, she thought as her gaze swept around the room.
An hour later, as Trisdale’s voice droned in the background, Saradi found herself staring at the squad-leader of the super-marines: Chengmedu. His features looked like a mixture of Chinese and Australian. Coarse sideburns edged his square jaw. His deep-set eyes stared out from a face as pale as marble with light freckles. His thick neck bolted itself to his chest. His red singlet — all the super-marines wore red singlets and red pants — trapped his dark hair that sprouted from his back.
His blue eyes clashed against Saradi’s green eyes, and she knew without a doubt that Chengmedu possessed high level upgrades. He made a disdainful huffing gesture and shook his head from left to right: What are you doing here civvy trash? he mouthed.
