Pursuing Dreams (The Young Soldier Book 1) Read online

  Tony was one of Don’s only friends from the Agamemnon. They had been accomplices in mischief, never enough to get into any real trouble, just enough to let loose.

  Don shook his head once, and Tony’s mouth clamped shut. He spun around, dropping into his seat without another word. Don was sure that he’d have to answer questions later, but Tony was sharp. He wouldn’t do anything until the coast was clear, and now Don knew he had at least one friend on this shuttle.

  “Well, I suppose it’s not fair that I know your name, and you not know mine. I’m Tyson Namm.”

  Don nodded. “Jeffery.”

  “What?”

  “My name is Jeffery. Don is a nickname,” he said. For a moment, Tyson just stared at him.

  “Okay, Jeffery,” he acquiesced and then continued, “So what do you think of this bunch of knuckleheads we have for mates?”

  Don forced a grin. “Oh, I dunno. I suppose they might be okay at shoveling garbage.” Tyson laughed and put his hands behind his head, letting the conversation drop.

  It took ten more minutes before the shuttle was ready for launch. A woman’s monotone voice came on the speaker and rushed through the flight schedule and shuttle safety procedures. Escape procedure, if necessary, was the first on the list. It was a meaningless gesture. In a situation where it wasn’t safer to stay on the broken shuttle, they would never have time to make it out before the shuttle blew up or imploded, or they all suffocated.

  Only when the gravity returned did the excitement of their new adventure begin to bubble within them. There was just enough time for the bolder ones to have taken off their seat restraints, when a sergeant entered the main bay. Everywhere he looked, silence followed.

  He was middle-aged, with black hair cropped short in a crew cut. Don almost laughed. The sergeant looked the part, all right, down to the starched-too-straight uniform.

  “That mess I saw earlier, which I hesitate to call boarding except for the fact that you snot-nosed babies are on this shuttle by the grace of our attendants, is unacceptable! I am loath to say it, but you farts now represent us wherever you go, and you will act like civilized people. I know it’s a hard concept for you to grasp…”

  At this point, Don tuned out. He knew how the rest of this speech went: Jump if I jump, freeze if I say freeze, and so forth. Don wasn’t interested. All the boys on this shuttle knew Basic wasn’t really the military. It was one year of defensive training mandated by the Council in case Earth ever suffered another home invasion. As a result, the whole puffed-up routine to break them so they’d follow orders and be good soldiers didn’t really hold any weight.

  “I said, do you understand?” the sergeant shouted.

  Some of the boys nodded, but Don and three others shouted back, “Yes, sir!”

  “Well, it looks like we may have a few numbskulls in this bunch of bacteria, after all. You four, stand up! The rest of you take a close look. These are the monkeys who have decided they may want to survive their year of Basic Training. The rest of you slime-balls don’t stand a chance unless you smarten up. Do you understand?”

  This time, the whole shuttle shouted back. The man sneered before he began again, leaving Don and three others standing.

  “I am not going to be your nursemaid on this shuttle, and neither will the attendants. You took advantage of them, getting here. You will not do it again. You have a problem, then you take it to one of these four boys. They have at least one miniscule brain cell, while you do not. They are now your official moms. If they think it’s worth talking to me, then they will tell you. Your names, trainees!”

  “Tyson Namm, sir.”

  “Roberto Inez, sir.”

  “Dallas Omar, sir.”

  Don winced inwardly. There went his low profile. “Jeffery Thompson, sir.”

  “Be seated. Now, unless you want to clean the latrines with a toothbrush, I had better not see any of you slugs until we reach Earth.” With that, the man left abruptly.

  Tyson rounded on Don immediately; he was frowning. “What was that about?”

  “What?”

  “You hesitated,” Tyson said, and then repeated, “What was that about?”

  He shrugged hoping to brush the boy off. “Nothing. Nerves, I guess.” Don was pretty sure Tyson believed this excuse as much as he had the earlier one, but he once again let it go and changed the conversation.

  “So what are you going to do after Basic?”

  “I’m going for the Space Jumper program.”

  Tyson raised his eyebrows. “With nerves like yours? That’ll be a feat.” He continued quickly, cutting off Don’s retort. “That’s what I’m aiming for, too. I’m going to try for infantry. You?”

  “I don’t know…” Don paused briefly. “I haven’t really thought about it. Pilot, I suppose. That would be more in my area.” This, at least, was true. The thought of hand-to-hand fighting didn’t seem very appealing to him, and since he’d spent his life on different ships and space stations, a position as a pilot seemed right. However, he wouldn’t turn down a job in the infantry if offered.

  Tyson shook his head. “If you want to be in the Space Jumpers, you need to know. Otherwise you won’t make it.”

  “I know that.” The answer came more forcefully than he’d meant, but Tyson didn’t seem to catch on.

  “Then why don’t you know?”

  “Lay off,” Don snapped. “I don’t have to answer to you.” He glared at the wall beside him as the resentment toward his father came back. Instead of pressing the matter any further, Tyson engaged one of their neighbors, and Don was left to listen to the conversations drifting around them. They were all the same: “Where are you from?” “Who are you?” Most of the boys came from standard backgrounds, but some of them, Don had to admit, were quite interesting.

  Luke Johnson, who sat behind Don and Tyson, was the only boy who’d chosen to be on the flight. He had grown up on a republican colony space station, outside the jurisdiction of the Council. The Council couldn’t mandate republican participation, so they used it as an incentive program instead. For those like Luke, who just wanted training and had no intention of taking advantage of the incentive to become a citizen of the Council, it was a little more complicated.

  Jacob Sanders sat beside Luke. He had been born in one of the small, turbulent countries in Eurasia. He was sent to live with his grandparents in space after his father was killed in a Freeman raid. Jacob had sworn to join the fight against the rebellion as soon as he was old enough.

  Don heard a little of his own determination in the tall blond and inwardly smiled. Jacob would make it, just as Don would, because they had a reason to fight. Revenge was a powerful tool for getting what you wanted.

  Don turned to Tyson. “Hey, why do you want to get in? To the Space Jumpers, I mean.”

  Tyson didn’t even bother to open his eyes when he answered. “I guess you could say I’m a bloodthirsty boy who enjoys killing aliens.” He waited a moment, then glanced at Don to see what the reaction would be. Tyson must not have been impressed, because he sighed and then shrugged. “My parents’ platoon raised me. I guess they felt responsible for me or something after my parents got killed. Anyway, the military is all I know. Plus,” he added, “I love the thought of killing me some Zarweans before I buy it.”

  Don nodded once and looked away. He wasn’t sure how much of Tyson’s story to believe, but he talked like someone who’d grown up in the military. Still, something about the other boy made it hard for Don to gauge him.

  It wasn’t long before the rest of the boys aboard the shuttle joined them in silence. Some curled up in their seats as best they could and tried to sleep. It took Don a moment to realize that, by standard time, it was about eleven o’clock at night. He shook his head as he watched the boys who were new to the experience contemplate the best position.

  Finally, Don reached under his seat and pulled out a pillow he knew would be stored there. He left his restraints on, even though most of the boys had tak
en theirs off. If the gravity in the cabin had to be turned off, Don was not going to be among those left floating around.

  Chapter 2

  July 6, 625 T.A.

  “Attention, all passengers. We will be entering Earth’s atmosphere shortly. Please fasten your restraining belts and prepare for entry.”

  Don grinned as the boys around him began to cheer. The past thirteen hours had been long and tiresome, and even though they were about to give up their lives for a year, anything was better than being on the shuttle any longer. From their previous conversations, he knew Tyson was one of the few who’d been to Earth before. Curious, Don glanced over at his counterpart. Tyson wore an underwhelmed look of boredom.

  At some unknown command, the wings of each headrest began to angle toward the front of the shuttle. They came to a rest, bracing the sides of each of passenger's head. Don felt his stomach churn.

  A few boys cheered again, but Don didn’t join them. His mouth was suddenly too dry to make a sound. He noticed he wasn’t alone in this, either. A few rows up, one boy’s face was tinged with green.

  A peculiar weight pushed Don against the back of his seat. It was similar to the feeling one got when entering the A-Stream, like an invisible hand shoving his stomach into his spine. Then the entire shuttle began to jerk and shake.

  “It’s okay.”

  Don turned his head, struggling against the force that was pushing it back. Tyson was looking straight ahead, muscles tensed against the sudden jolts of the shuttle. “This is just what happens when you’re plummeting toward the planet in a tin can.” He paused, a grin slowly making its way on his face. “We’ll be fine if the pilot doesn’t screw it up.”

  Don fought to turn his head back toward the front. He’d known too many pilots to take Tyson’s words to heart. Finally, the weight on his body let up, and he suddenly became grateful for the wings of his headrest. He ground his teeth together to keep from biting his tongue as the square pattern of the seat fabric danced in his vision. Don shut his eyes, unable to look any longer.

  When the shaking settled down some, Don heard Tyson laugh quietly and caught his eye. “That,” Tyson explained, “is why people do not travel to and from space often. Once is enough.”

  Don nodded. He understood now why many colonists decided to stay on Earth if they ever came for a visit. And while the rest of the flight was uneventful, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was why his father never visited Earth.

  When the sergeant entered the front of the cabin, the boys fell silent, whispering and hitting their buddies to get their attention. The sergeant's instructions were brief: line up in the hall and wait. He gave them one last glare and left.

  Tyson began to unbuckle his belt, and Don followed suit. He was still trying to collect his thoughts but found he had very little to collect. He was about to experience a world he’d only dreamed about. The reality hit him all at once. He felt like a lost child looking for a familiar face in a crowd of strangers.

  When Don stood, he was forced to grab the seat back in front of him to keep his balance. All his limbs felt heavier than usual, and his head seemed as if it didn’t want to stay on straight. He fumbled his way toward the shuttle’s rear, where an enclosed ramp awaited them. As he walked onto it, a ray of sunlight shone on his hand, and he paused. His eyes followed the light to the crack above them. It was blinding.

  Tyson pushed him forward with a small shake of his head. Don was blocking the way. He moved quickly to catch up with those in front, but his thoughts stayed behind on the gap and the brilliant sunlight. It had felt so warm on his skin.

  The airport itself felt much like a spaceport, but Don wasn’t interested in the comparisons. His attention was fixed on the glass windows that lined the walls. There it was, Earth’s sky. It was vibrantly blue, speckled with clouds that looked like colorless nebulae. On the ground were shuttles and people — people walking outside without containment suits.

  “Who are they?”

  The question broke into his thoughts. Don looked up quickly, but no one seemed to be waiting for an answer from him.

  Instead, Luke Johnson leaned toward the boy standing between them and replied in a low voice, “They’re Suits.”

  Don searched the crowd and spotted the young pair in trench coats. They were questioning a civilian.

  Luke continued. “Streets aren’t likely to be in a place like this, so I’d bet they’re here to help the Global Guard. We don’t have ‘em back at my colony much. The republic won’t allow ‘em at all, but since the colonies sometimes fall under the Council’s protection, we occasionally have to deal with ‘em. They can be downright mean if they want to. Bother you when they don’t need to.”

  Don watched two Suits disappear into the crowd. He glanced at Luke. “And we’ve always been told they’re a good thing.”

  “That depends on what you mean by a good thing.” Luke’s voice was grim.

  “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer right away and avoided Don’s eyes. “I ain’t in a free colony anymore. I can get into some trouble over here if I don’t watch m’self… Understand?”

  Don nodded slowly. “Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through to learn to fight.”

  Luke shrugged. The sergeant returned, and the line started to move again, cutting short any further conversation. Silence seemed to follow the sergeant wherever he went. It was impressive. Crowds parted in front of him without him having to slow down.

  He left them to wait once more, with no explanation. This time, they stood across from a pair of tinted glass doors. Each time the doors opened to let someone through, sunlight burst in, followed by a wave of warm air.

  Don glanced down the line of boys. They were all beginning to relax and group together. Satisfied that the majority were distracted, he began to ease away from them. Luke gave him a questioning look, but Don shook his head and snuck quickly away toward the glass doors.

  He paused in front of them, just far enough away that the sensor couldn’t detect him. Behind these doors was Earth, air, sun, everything. His fingers tingled in anticipation.

  Someone pushed by, carrying a small briefcase. Don chanced a look back. Luke was still watching him, along with Tyson and now a few others. He needed to go now, to avoid drawing any more attention. This time, when the doors opened, Don stepped purposely through.

  He stood still in the heat under an overhang, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness. Don exhaled slowly. The pavement in front of him was dark from the shadow of the overhang, and there, just a little farther, was the line where the sunlight began. He raised an arm and gradually extended it. Quicker than expected, he broke through the invisible barrier. The light enveloped his arm up to his elbow. Don wiggled his fingers experimentally, watching the way the sun reflected off them.

  Laughing, he stepped out from under the overhang to stand fully in the sunlight. Don tilted his head back to catch the rays on his face. His skin burned from the light, and he shivered as the cold from a life of enclosed spaces fell away. This was living.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, trainee?”

  Don jumped and spun around. He’d forgotten to keep a lookout for the sergeant.

  “I was…” Don fumbled for a reply before deciding silence would probably serve him better. The sergeant really didn’t care what he was doing, just the fact that he wasn’t with the other boys.

  “Get back in line, boy!” the sergeant ordered, and Don didn’t waste any time following. He walked back through the sliding doors toward the group of boys, blinking quickly to get rid of the black spots that filled his vision.

  “Man, you dumb as a thumb,” whispered Luke.

  Don ignored him. The moment he had filled the empty spot in the line, the sergeant ordered the boys to follow him. The bus that would take them to Camp Lorenzo had arrived.

  Chapter 3

  July 6, 625 T.A

  Don blinked as a bead of sweat dripped into his eye. He did
n’t move to wipe it away. It had taken only a few minutes of standing outside — listening to Sergeant Cohan recite the camp rules — but those few minutes were pivotal. The sun was hot, and the sheen of sweat that formed on his skin only made it burn at a higher intensity.

  The boys had already changed into their uniforms. That had been the second order of business after being assigned their living quarters. The dorm was in a rectangular building that could have housed hundreds of them. The room Don had been assigned was a large room with ten bunks along each wall. Each bunk was in pristine condition down to the wrinkle-free pillowcases. At the end of each bunk was a shared locker that would hold their possessions. Tony had managed to get the bed under Don’s, but there had been no time to catch up. They had just enough time to stow their bags and change into their uniforms before filing out to meet their personal drill instructor.

  Sergeant Cohan had begun his recitation of the rules the moment they had all assembled. Now he ran his eyes across the entire group. To Don, it seemed the look was more calculating than cold. It was almost a look of ownership.

  “Here at Basic Training, you are utterly alone. I am, and will be, the closest thing you have to someone who cares about your well-being. The boy standing next to you is your brother. This can be a blessing or a curse. Whatever happens to him happens to you. If one of you disobeys, the entire company will be punished. I suggest you follow the rules I have laid down for you, and make sure your brother does as well. Cooperation will be your greatest strength in the upcoming months. If one of you falls behind, I expect others to help him. You are stuck with each other. Make the most of it.”

  Sergeant Cohan paused to give weight to his words. “You will have the rest of today to acquaint yourselves with the rules and grounds. I have assigned five trainee graduates to help you and answer your questions. Use them. Tomorrow you are on your own.