by D. P. Oberon
Seeing the beach on the horizon almost made Saradi cry. Eventually they stumbled on the beach and there to greet them was Instructor Ali and Warrant Officer Christian Trisdale and a host of SOHIC personnel, but Saradi knew Inferno Week was near its end when she spotted General Rangi Topeora.
The remaining eight students of Class 108 of SOHIC Selection dropped to their knees in front of the general. They huddled close like penguins, shivering. Peng lay in a fetal position shaking. Saradi picked him up and wedged him between herself and Chengmedu. Many were coughing from whatever sickness they had. Many would’ve swooned and fallen to the beach if they hadn’t been held by one another.
“In Our Mateship We Trust. Welcome Class 108 to Special Operations Human Intelligence Command. You are the newest batch of SOHIC soldiers.” She clapped her hands — she was the only one — and there was a solemnity to it, not like people clapping at a sports event.
Saradi turned and hugged Yoriko. She began to cry and she hugged Peng. A big hand wrapped around her and Buckingarra bear hugged all of them. Then Chengmedu was there hugging Saradi. And then Bravo Two Zero and Bravo Two Six members were all hugging one another. A few of them cried.
“The greatest battle is in the mind,” said Warrant Officer Trisdale. “I welcome you to our ranks. Take time now for some badly needed rest. Doctor-bots and nurse-bots will see to all of you, after which you will get a two day break, and real REM sleep for the first time in nine weeks. Then you will be back at SOHIC HQ for mission debriefing.” He saluted them. “Oorah!”
“Oorah!” they coughed and spluttered.
There were no words of congratulations, no jumping for joy. Induction into SOHIC was a somber occasion.
Saradi stayed on her knees crying on the beach. Bheemasena’s face flashed through her vision, and then Novalie, her mother, Wattana, and Claas, all laughing. Her fist clenched seaweed and she stared up into the gray sky.
“I’m coming for you, Bheem,” she said, her voice breaking.
PART FOUR – WAR
Chapter 32 – Chengz Nuudle Bar
It felt odd to be away from the pressure of Inferno Week and Selection. That thought kept circling in Saradi’s head as the octocopter that took Bravo Two Zero and Bravo Two Six towards Mid Perth where their R&R destination awaited them.
A collective effervescence filled the cabin and Saradi found herself laughing. Chengmedu smiled at her and gave her a peace sign from across the octocopter. He dressed in all black. She smiled at him and shook her head. Who would’ve thought Chengmedu and her would be sharing smiles in an octocopter?
“I think he likes you,” Buckingarra said, nodding at Chengmedu. The doors of the octocopter thudded open as its descent brought them below the floating buildings of High Perth.
“Screw off,” Saradi said.
“Now you sound like Bucki,” Yoriko chided her.
Peng wore a smile across his face. “I swear … I swear I didn’t think I was going to make it.”
“SOHIC Recruit Peng Huizhong!” Buckingarra shouted, giving him a salute from where he slouched.
Peng laughed. Gone was the fat on his belly. A certain confidence radiated from him now. He didn’t look down so much nor did he wait quietly aside.
“Just wait until you guys have a bite of Chengz,” Buckingarra enthused. “You won’t know what hit you.”
Saradi snorted. Outside the floating buildings of High Perth flew past them as the octocopter descended. Most cities in the world had three levels. Saradi had rarely left the high level with its artificially created yocto-troposphere that kept the air free from air-tinge.
As the octocopter landed on top of a wide building that looked old and battered, Saradi felt a shiver of apprehension run through her. She couldn’t remember the last time she visited a middle layer of a city.
Stop being foolish, she told herself, you’re now a SOHIC recruit. She found herself analyzing the landing zone, checking the positions where she could take cover, calculating the exit trajectories.
“Yo, we’re going to chow at Penang Laksa Hut; my squad’s dying for some super spicy food. We’ll catch you guys back at Dingo’s right?” said Chengmedu.
“Absolutely brother,” said Buckingarra. “Shooting and bowling. What could be more peaceful? And great piss too. That bartender in Dingo’s is mad.”
“Okay,” Saradi found herself saying. “You guys and girls have fun.”
“Peng could do with getting laid,” Buckingarra said. “I swear the kid’s got blue balls.”
Saradi couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Then the big man’s eyes turned on her.
“Eh, don’t you laugh, Anantadevi. You desperately need to get laid too. You walk like you got a stick up your ass.”
Saradi punched Buckingarra. “I’m starving.”
“We all are,” they chorused.
“You will not be disappointed,” Buckingarra said, widening his hands as he ran down the rickety steel stairs.
Chengz Nuudle Bar and the Dingo Arcade grew out from one another like vestigial twins, joining in the middle right at their spines. The half that was the noodle bar consisted of hydro formed plasticrete giant sized noodles making it look like the squad walked under Medusa’s head. The arcade portion of the building had been molded into the silhouette of giant dingos howling with their open mouths. Both front faces of the buildings melded into one another — white noodles met dingo spines.
A neon holo-sign the size of an octocopter twisted itself in three hundred sixty degrees showing bright red chopsticks holding noodles up to the maw of a salivating dingo.
“An interesting multicultural mix,” Saradi said, bemused.
Yoriko just stood there stunned. “That is very artistic,” she eventually said.
“If it were porn,” Buckingarra said, “it would be bestiality.”
Peng laughed uproariously, holding his much smaller stomach. Yoriko gave Buckingarra a disapproving look. Saradi chuckled.
A few shady characters lounged outside the establishment, smoking ice-cigars that curled white smoke into the air. They had scarred faces with a glyph that showed a boxing glove etched on their left cheeks.
“They look pretty big,” said Peng. “And what’s that scar on their faces?”
“They’re Boxing Roo gang members,” Buckingarra said. “It’s LED glyph scarification. Apparently it glows when they attack.”
One of the Boxing Roos with a mohawk stared at them, pointed at Saradi and made a thrusting gesture with his pelvis.
Saradi moved before even thinking about it.
“Saradi, it’s not worth it,” said Buckingarra. “I’ve tussled with them before and nothing good came out of it.”
Saradi didn’t even realize she had started to walk towards Mohawk. He now stood alert, the rest of the gang members gathered around him.
Their eyes met across the wide road cluttered with debris and windswept junk. Saradi made a cutting motion across her neck and kept on walking. The gang members around Mohawk barked and jumped, and the scarification on the left side of their cheeks glowed red.
But Bravo Two Zero had already entered Chengz Nuudle Bar.
It turned out Chengz himself still cooked and served the actual food. The old man peered at them as they trudged into the premises, oozing confidence and all dressed in varying degrees of dark clothing. They now preferred their boots (just in case they had to make a run for it) and also carried concealed weapons. The squad exuded an air of danger that they weren’t even aware of.
Chengz shuffled up to them wearing his cooking apron and nodded at them. He doffed his large hat and squashed it on the table.
“My friends, I do special for you. What do you want? Crispy fried noodle, fried rice, salt and pepper tofu, steamed bok-choy. Or you can have Chengz Special?”
Saradi eyed him and then eyed Buckingarra. It was the first time in her entire life that she had eaten in such an establishment. Firstly, it looked like it was from the Internet age with its LED lighting, a
ncient comp-nodes that looked like you actually had to physically interface with them, and there wasn’t a single robot around. How did the guy even maintain the place? There were even real seats. Admittedly the booth they had shoved themselves into felt fairly comfortable. The air smelled of sesame oil and of deep fried yummy goodness.
“Do you have edamame?” Yoriko asked.
Chengz nodded his head. “Boiled edamame with chili and crushed fresh garlic.” He put his hands to his lips and made kiss. “Healthy and delicious. Just like the man next door. You want? Give four servings. Should be enough.”
“Sounds good,” Saradi said. “It’s been a long time.”
“And spring-rolls? Give you excellent spring-rolls. Fresh flaky outside. So crispy the pastry melt in your mouth like chocolate.”
“Okay,” Buckingarra said. “Get me some of that!”
“I come back with your starter. You can check menu, but don’t listen to menu. Just tell me what you want when I come back.”
Peng laughed as he pressed on the buttons at the edge of the small computer screen that popped out from the table. It was wooden just like the table and had a black screen with a blinking green light. It was completely free of graphics and only had a bunch of text based characters showing a menu.
Nuudles
Sops
Fry Stuff
Alcohall
Peng turned the screen around. Saradi, Yoriko, and Buckingarra laughed as they read the menu.
“Bucki, you just better be sure the food taste great. The neuralnet didn’t have a single review for this place.”
Saradi had spent the last five minutes searching for reviews of Chengz Nuudle Bar. There was a website with the exact picture of the bar’s entrance: a large dragon that curved around the greeting area scales chipped with paint and large Pinyin characters below it, and a fat cat on the floor with its hand bobbing up and down continuously.
The spring-rolls had a flaky outer texture that Saradi had never experienced before and they were soft inside. Tofu, mushroom, soy, some fresh coriander, hint of garlic shoots, and bok-choy. She tried to slow down; the spring-roll was super hot. Ever since she joined AAEDEF she had begun to eat quickly.
“This is damn good,” Saradi said. She gulped on the hot fluffy interior and it burned the roof of her mouth. “So good it’s hard to wait for it to cool down.”
The squad didn’t observe the several Boxing Roo gang members that headed to another side of the table. They had their faces hooded, but their eyes were on Saradi’s group with keen interest.
Next up was drinks, shooting, and bowling, so they headed over to the Dingo Arcade. The squad members wanted to see who could win at target practice while drunk. The arcade roared at them with its giant mouth open. The fangs glowed red in the dark and the sinuous moldy carpet formed a tongue for them to walk on.
The bartender stood at the counter behind the bar. He was at least ten feet tall, and his skin almost entirely gray. Saradi felt her jaw drop involuntarily as the face stared back at her.
“No trouble here, okay? I know you military types. That’s rule number one. Rule number two, when you fight with those Boxing Roo idiots — do it outside.”
“You’re a bull?” Peng blurted out, his face open in astonishment.
“Water Buffalo gene extracts. I’m Baahdan’Alro. I served in the Aqua Wars.” His humanoid face looked like a buffalo’s with horns and large teeth. His oval eyes deeply recessed in his skull. Lanky brown hair fell down to his shoulders.
“Wow, you’re the first one I’ve ever seen,” said Peng.
“We’re not going to cause any trouble,” Saradi said. “We just passed Selection so we’re here to have some fun.”
“SOHIC noobs eh?” said Baahdan’Alro and his horn tip wagged in surprise. “We had Selection. Was a nightmare. How many people did you lose?”
They chatted for a while. Saradi wanted to know his entire story. The Aqua Wars were a defining moment in human society. None of Bravo Two Zero had ever seen the magnificent specimens they had bio-geo-engineered all those years ago. And to think some of them were still alive — it was like catching a glimpse of a dinosaur.
“You know you been tailed by those Boxing Roos, right?” Baahdan’Alro said as he served up four battered cylinders that looked like they’d been sliced from the barrel of a mortar launcher.
Saradi didn’t turn around. “Yep, we’re well aware of them.”
“Did you do something to them?”
“Just this.” Saradi mimed cutting her throat.
“There’s gonna be trouble.” He shook his head. “You SOHIC types are all the same. Just be careful,” he said, and left them to their giant, overflowing beers.
“Emu Beer,” Buckingarra crowed as held his glistening container up.
“Here’s to passing Selection,” Yoriko said, holding up her huge steel container that showed a white emu on a yellow background.
“I’ll cheers with a glass of water,” Saradi said. “I don’t want to drink.”
Her squad groaned. They all called her names; she held up her hand. “Okay, okay, but I’m only drinking this one. Just this and then I’m finished.”
“You earned it. We all earned it,” Peng said.
Saradi held her cylinder up. “Remember we look each other in the eyes when we say cheers.”
“Cheers! Oorah!”
They clanged the foamy headed cylinders and slurped on their beers. Saradi decided the best approach was to finish it quickly. She didn’t want to be thinking about getting another one. So she downed hers like it was water and slammed the tankard on the counter.
“Damn, Sara, don’t you have a swallowing reflex?” Buckingarra was only halfway through his.
“I used to be an alcoholic,” Saradi said, telling them the truth. The time of holding things back from her squad mates was well past.
“Shit really?” Buckingarra surveyed her with a serious expression. He cracked her a smile and nudged her almost off the bar stool. “Hey let’s have a drinking competition.”
Saradi held up her hands. “Not anymore, Bucki. Maybe back in the day.”
“Dang it,” he said. “I should’ve met the younger Sara. We coulda got smashed together.”
Saradi stood. “Here, I’ll get the next round. Then we hit the shooting lanes.”
Yoriko was looking pale and Peng’s face was already red. Saradi patted Peng on the back. “Drink up my friend.”
Saradi came back with another three Emu beers and a non-alcoholic beer for herself. Then it was Peng’s turn followed by Yoriko’s. After four rounds, the members of Bravo Two Zero had imbibed enough alcohol to start acting a little lively.
“Let’s go shoot some crap,” Buckingarra said, standing up slowly and wobbling. “Oh yeah, that shooting range has got LR10s.”
“Peng,” Saradi said in a soft voice.
Peng turned took look at her with his red face and beer moustache. “Yeah Ma’am?” He saluted, holding his beer to his head.
“That’s your fourth liter, go easy,” she said.
Peng just burped. Buckingarra put his hand around Peng’s shoulder and they staggered to the shooting range.
Yoriko watched after them with a smile on her face. She drank the beer and made a face. “This tastes really bad.”
“Trooper beer,” Saradi said. “I’m sure that’s what they serve back at the fort.”
A group came up to their table and for a moment Saradi reached for her concealed weapon only to see Chengmedu leading the members of Bravo Two Six with him.
“You made it,” Saradi said.
“Yeah, that damn laksa is going burn both holes. I tell ya,” Chengmedu said.
Buckingarra spotted the members of Bravo Two Six and immediately challenged them to a game of Shoot the Triant. Chengmedu waved his squad members off as they went to go join Bravo Two Zero.
Yoriko held her cup at Saradi, winked at her, and then downed it. She strolled towards the group.
; Saradi found herself alone with Chengmedu. “You don’t scrub up too bad,” she said.
“You look pretty good yourself. I can see you have a sense of fashion with that blue jacket and all. Me, been a lifer, couldn’t tell something trendy if it whacked me,” he said.
“You’ve been in AAEDEF all your life?” she said, curious now. She’d always wanted to ask but never had the opportunity.
Chengmedu nodded. “My parents were in AAEDEF. They were both super-marines. They died when I was eighteen and the general told me I should try out for the super-marines. So I did, and here I am twenty years later.”
It was the most she’d ever heard him speak. “I’m sorry about your parents.”
His shoulders moved up and down. “It’s okay, time heals.”
Saradi found herself telling him about Novalie, Bheemasena, and Claas.
“Did you tussle with any gang members before you came in?” Chengmedu asked, nodding across from them.
“Kind of,” she said, telling him about the encounter.
The Boxing Roo members played opposite them in a bowling alley. The building was divided into two that way, with the shooting range on the right and the bowling alley on the left. The group was getting larger, Saradi realized. She turned her head and caught the eye of Baahdan’Alro. He nodded at her in the way squad mates did on a battlefield.
“Let’s go watch our squads make fools of themselves,” Saradi said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at the silence between them.
Chengmedu laughed. “Your Buckingarra, he’s a character. Whole damn class was talking about him.”
Saradi nodded. “Yeah, you can say that all right.”
The shooting range was mostly empty, except for a few booths that had a person or two and their bot-mates. The occasional roar of the guns mixed with the sound of bowling balls growling over the synthwood and the clatter of pins.
The targets were large CPE gray triants that jumped around and fired at you. There were primitive force feedback sensors. Saradi’s upgrades could interface directly with the software, but there was no point of connection here. This place, just like Chengz Nuudle Bar, seemed to be a place from the Internet era, archaic. She wondered how people had lived carrying those large blocks they called smartphones and staring into them. Wouldn’t they all bump into one another if they walked? Novalie had asked her once after coming back from school with history homework.
