Human Legion: Marine Cadet Part 6

As his stroll drew closer to his own hab-disk, his breath quickened. It wasn't the exercise; it was the sense of vulnerability. Rekka had left them with a threat and he felt sure it was aimed at him.

Before graduating to become a cadet, the worst punishment a novice could be given was to be discharged. Outside of the Marines there was a pale life of sorts in the Auxiliary, doing maintenance work and the dirtiest jobs in the mines here and on the moons. The luckiest Aux looked after the cadets and the Marines in the underground base as hab-disk servants. Now that he was 17 and a cadet, the penalty for insubordination or gross misconduct was public execution. And it wasn't an idle threat. Arun shuddered at the memories of what he'd been forced to witness.

Not wanting to be on his own, he slipped into the gym nearest to his dorm. There he found Osman pushing weights along resistance channels, and Springer climbing the endless wall.

Whether by coincidence or an empathetic sense of a squadmate needing support, Osman and Springer finished their exercise at the same time and left with Arun for the nearest shower room.

Usually, after stripping off, there would be a heap of banter between squadmates as they progressed through the various stages of the shower tunnel.

Shower time was normally a simple pleasure shared with friends. Not this morning, though. Today there was a new tension in Springer and Osman, something important but unspoken that poisoned the easy-going mood.

Eyes were averted Laughter stilted Was everyone else as frightened by Rekka as he was?

He thought that must be the explanation until they reached the spray booth at the end of the shower tunnel. Osman was pirouetting with both arms high while the booth sprayed a film of protective oils over his skin. That's when he blurted out the explanation for the discord.

"Arun, I'm joining the Scendence team."

Arun burst out laughing. "Is that it? All that edginess and it's just because you're joining the team? You bunch of dumbchucks. Have you worked out a team name yet? Here's one: three girls and an avian creature descendant. No, that was frakking awful. Give me a minute and I'll work out a better one."

To the sound of Arun's laughter, Osman walked out the tunnel looking mortified.

This was peak time in the showers. Arun, with his hands on his knees as he laughed himself silly, was holding up the flow of cadets in a hurry to get back in time for morning inspection. Springer pushed past and took her turn in the spray booth.

Tranquility's sun was anything but tranquil. Violent stellar flares flung vast quant.i.ties of high energy particles at their planet. The hab-disks were deep enough underground that the danger here was minimal, but at the surface, radiation peaks could be lethal. Detroit wasn't just a training depot, it was responsible for planetary defense too. It would not look good if an invasion force took Tranquility unopposed because the Marines delayed their deployment while they applied their sunblock.

"Moscow Express," said Springer indignantly. "That's our name. Majanita, Osman, Springer, Cristina. M-O-S-C-ow. Get it?" She lifted her arms and slowly turned around.

"Oh, I'm getting it," Arun said cheekily.

Springer narrowed her eyes, daring him to stare at her body.

He dared.

She narrowed her eyes even further, which made him laugh all over again. It was all a game, he thought. Springer loved the attention really.

Springer got her retaliation in by pointing at his crotch. "Your Xin said she admired some impressive equipment. As anyone can plainly see, she wasn't referring to you. She must have meant the Trog."

Arun laughed even harder at that, which won a giggle from Springer.

He caught Osman's attention. "You know," he said raising his voice so that Osman could hear above the chatter. "I don't mean to put a boot into a friend, but honestly? When it comes to Scendence, you're as useless as Rekka in a s.e.xiest legs compet.i.tion."

Osman winced. "I've no love for Rekka, but that's a combat injury you're mocking, man."

"Yeah, sorry." Arun colored with shame.

"You're right, though," Osman continued. "I stink. But they need a Deception player and it's better than letting them down, don't you think?"

"No, I can't say I do. But that's just me. Good luck to you, pal."

Springer stepped out of the tunnel joining Osman in the dressing area.

Arun took his turn under the spray. He could glimpse Osman. It wasn't easy to tell with his friend putting on his pants, but he looked genuinely unhappy, "The only role I've any talent for is Deception," said Osman. "And even with Deception, I get a red mist. Can't resist going for the outrageous bluff. Promise me one thing. If the Corps is ever dumb enough to make me squad leader, I give you permission to shoot me first before my red mist gets us all killed."

"Acknowledged, future lance sergeant. I will implement your order without hesitation."

"Yeah, well. There is a way..."

"C'mon, man," Arun said as he emerged from the tunnel, washed, dried and coated in protective oils. "It's not like you to vulley around in circles. What's your plan?"

"For me to not be in the team."

Arun thought about that while he limped over to the clothing bins and selected underwear in his size. Just as he was about to step into his shorts, he paused. "No frakking way, man. You want me to take your place, don't you?"

Osman nodded. "The way I see it, if you don't then I will. If you think that's a waste of time, an opportunity cost because we won't be getting so many merit points elsewhere, then either way one of us will be wasting time on Scendence. So the way I figure it, there's nothing to lose if you take my place."

"That's butchered logic," said Arun, underwear on and selecting his pants.

"It's not like you have to," Springer told him. She was now fully clothed other than her shirt. "There are plenty of other good Deception players around."

"But will you?" asked Osman.

Arun frowned, thinking about those hints from his planner brain. "Is this what all that awkwardness was about? Is it really such a big deal to ask me?"

"No," replied Osman.

"Yes," said Springer simultaneously. "Well... yes it is a big deal, but..." Her shoulders slumped as if she'd melted slightly. "We're worried about you. I've never seen Rekka as angry as she was last night. She felt wounded, let down, and took that out on you. I'm not saying that's fair but it's the kind of drent that goes on all the time. Big deal. But what if someone more senior decides that they've been embarra.s.sed? What if someone important goes looking for a scapegoat?"

"What? You mean a Jotun?" asked Arun. He hadn't considered the outcomes of petty training missions would be noticed so high up.

"Maybe," said Springer. "Who knows? It's a crazy world we live in. Let's face it, we're G-2 cadets. To us, this world still doesn't make sense."

"Springer!" Osman shouted. "We agreed not to mention being worried about him."

"Arun's not stupid, Osman. Except when he's vulley-dreaming about his skangat fantasy girl. I can't waste time on a bad lie to a good friend."

Osman didn't argue. He didn't agree with her either. He strode away back to the dorm, but at the shower room door he hesitated.

An instant later they saw why when Instructor Rekka burst into the room.

"Get your clothes on quickly and follow me." Her orders were directed at Arun.

Arun stood there, frozen.

"Hurry up, there's no time to waste," said Rekka, grabbing his walking stick.

He finished dressing as rapidly as he could.

Osman slunk back into the room waiting with Springer. Watching.

The instant Arun's boots were on, Rekka threw his stick at him. "You've been summoned."

He tailed her out of the shower room but took a last look back at Osman and Springer, and their expressions of horror.

Were there tears in Springer's eyes?

"Move it!" barked Rekka from the pa.s.sageway.

Arun hurried after her as best he could. He wanted a chance to say a proper goodbye, maybe to say some things that had gone unsaid.

Too late. The next time he saw his squadmates, he expected to be on the wrong side of an execution squad.

* Chapter 09 *

In the end, Arun couldn't just stand there as silent and rigid as a statue, having his a.s.s chewed out in silence. It was beyond unfair: he was being set up for a fall. He wasn't the sharpest blade in the set, but he knew nothing he did now would make any difference to his fate.

"Ma'am. Why me, ma'am?" he asked.

For a moment, it almost sounded like a reasonable question.

From the more comfortable side of her desk, Senior Instructor Tirunesh Nhlappo regarded him coolly. The braver cadets called her Shlappo behind her back, though they were always careful to do so very quietly. To look at her in a photo you would think she was nothing special: above average height, average build and with a shaven head that was probably the reason, Arun thought, why her ears looked ridiculously large. But when you meet Nhlappo in person you were struck by an intensity of personality that was so fierce you could practically see an aura crackling around her.

Nhlappo was one of the senior humans in the 412th, and one of her roles was as chief instructor for the 8th battalion. Until the handover to the veteran NCOs had completed, that meant the woman he'd just interrupted had power of life and death over him.

After a long pause a very long and painful one for Arun she spoke. "Excuse me?"

"Ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. I spoke out of turn."

All it took was an incremental shift in Nhlappo's expression and Arun knew without doubt that his answer was utterly unacceptable. He wasn't getting out of this so easily.

Dread spread through him like a virulent disease.

The other instructors quietly worshiped their senior, but Shlappo wasn't loved by the school novices or the cadets. In the five years in which she had been Arun's senior instructor he had never known her to say a single word of praise or encouragement. And training had been tough. Thirty percent of novices didn't make cadet grade. Horden only knew what happened to them all. The best thing Arun could say about Nhlappo was that she never took out her frustrations in the kind of petty humiliations some of her junior instructors had developed into an art form.

And yet she had spent the past ten minutes tearing strips off him. He'd never seen her do that before.

This was very bad.

Nhlappo's expression shifted once more, indicating Arun would have to answer now if he knew what was good for him.

"Ma'am. Our mission in the tunnels failed," he said. "But I wasn't even leading a fire team, and I did rack up the biggest kill count. Not saying I'm perfect and I don't like what the combat drugs did to me but do I really deserve to be the scapegoat, ma'am?"

After peering at him over steepled fingers, Nhlappo picked up her digi-pad and began writing notes. She handed the pad over to the man at her left, a senior sergeant according to his rank insignia. The sergeant read her notes, nodded, and then pa.s.sed the pad back. His face was coated in the kind of perfect parade ground glaze that showed no reaction to anything.

"You know I admire your courage in standing up to me," said Nhlappo. "You've got backbone, son. I like that."

Relief gushed over Arun. He felt knots of muscles untie themselves. He'd thought he was in for a mega punishment, and here was Nhlappo offering praise for the first time in recorded history.

"To answer your question," she continued, "the reason I have selected you as sacrificial victim is because you're the laughing stock of the entire regiment. And beyond. If the Fates cherish you as their darling, it is just possible you might escape with your life." Her face went as hard as rock. "Don't count on it, though."

Arun held himself as tightly as he could, determined not to show any reaction to Nhlappo's honesty.

"I've served the Jotuns for 150 years", she continued in an infinitesimally softened tone. "All that time and yet I still don't understand them. They're lethally capricious, I can tell you that much. I have to guess what they want, and my guess is that they'll give us such a negative de-merit mark that our battalion is guaranteed to be Culled for years to come. If we humans deal with this first by having our squads disciplined and re-ordered, then that could mitigate any punishment. I have to at least attempt to make an example to prove we are taking this seriously. I have decided that it is your role, Cadet McEwan. You shall be that example. I believe the term your generation has rediscovered is taking one for the team."

Arun squared his shoulders another notch. "Ma'am. I understand, ma'am."

"Oh, no," said Nhlappo, suddenly angry. "No, cadet that just won't do." Nhlappo shook her head in such a way that left Arun feeling the biggest idiot on the planet. "Don't misunderstand me, McEwan. I did not mean: 'You're my favorite really, yet I have no choice but to punish you. I'm sorry and I really hope you'll understand.'."

"No, ma'am. Of course not, ma'am."

"Good. Because you thoroughly deserved the punishment I was going to give you."

Relief flooded back. She'd said was. Had he gotten off somehow?

"Except you've made this worse," she said. "Standing up to me was brave but it was also exceptionally stupid, even for you, McEwan. You stood your ground because you felt your punishment was undeserved. You felt an injustice. Isn't that right, cadet?"

"Ma'am. No, ma'am."

Nhlappo gave an exaggerated cough. "Excuse me, cadet." She cleared her throat unconvincingly. "Nasty cough. Couldn't quite hear what you were mumbling. You know what, McEwan? An element of the novice training program has just come to mind. Lying to a superior is punishable by death. Did we remember to teach you that?"

"Ma'am. Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you. I feel rea.s.sured. I'll ask again, and speak clearly this time. Tell me, do you feel an injustice?"

"Ma'am. Yes, ma'am."

"Unacceptable!" Nhlappo slammed her fist against her desk. She rose, coming round the front of her desk to fix Arun with a close-up glare. Arun didn't dare to breathe.

"Marines are not permitted justice," she snapped. "Why not?"

Fumbling through her words for b.o.o.by traps, Arun stumbled upon an answer that sounded plausible. "We are slaves, ma'am"

"Correct." Nhlappo's expression of disapproval lightened up half a notch, enough for Arun to breathe again. "If you live through today, perhaps you do have some chance of survival after all. Yes, of course, were slaves. Only a fool would forget that for an instant. From the lowest of humans who fail to graduate school and so join the Aux for the rest of their short lives, to the senior Jotun system commander, and even the insectoids you slaughtered in your tunnel exercise: we are all of us slaves. To the White Knights we are nothing more than a rounding error in a troop strength list reported to the nearest million. As individuals we are less than nothing to them, but as battalions, regiments and Marine fleet contingents, our pain and servitude is just enough to earn a semblance of protection for our homeworld. Earth was free from alien occupation last I heard, though I never trust what I hear on that subject."

Arun took a sharp intake of breath. Nhlappo's words could be considered insurrection.

"My words appear to trouble you, cadet. Do you wish to contradict them?"

"Ma'am. No, ma'am."

"Good. You have a lesson to learn. Learn it well. You are a slave. Slaves must never imagine they deserve justice, because that is one short step away from rebellion. Any slaves who do not grasp this will be rooted out and destroyed. Understand?"