Pursuing Dreams (The Young Soldier Book 1) Page 4

  Once, his father had taken him to a room where the walls opened up, leaving only clear windows all around. The sight had been amazing. He’d been surrounded with thousands upon thousands of stars. The longer he had looked in one spot, the more he saw. There had been no end. He’d never forgotten it.

  His legs were burning when the group reached the bottom of the hill. The ground slanted noticeably up, and Don dug in with the balls of his feet. His thighs began to protest immediately, but he ignored them.

  After some time, the ground abruptly flattened beneath his feet. He and the other three leaders slowed, panting. He heard a shout and then fell headlong into the dirt as someone ran into him. He felt a shoe hook him in the side and a whoosh of air along his face as one boy tripped on him and another jumped over. Don braced himself, waiting for a fourth blow, but none came. The boys had managed to come to a complete stop.

  He disentangled himself from the other boys and crawled a short distance away. Dirt stuck to his sweaty face, neck, and arms from contact with the path. He lay on his back, trying to find the energy to stand up and continue running, but neither he nor any of the other thirty-nine boys seemed up to the task as they sat, lay, or stood gasping. He rubbed his side where his ribs throbbed.

  Finally, someone stirred, interrupting the sound of the birds talking to one another. “Come on. We’ve got to go. The sergeant said he was watching. We’ll be in for it if we don’t get back.”

  Don heard Tyson laugh as he began to sit up. “What? You think he can actually see us? He just said that to keep us moving.” The boy bristled visibly at the retort. Don shook his head. Tyson needed to learn to be more diplomatic.

  “That’s not the only way he could be keeping tabs on us,” one of the boy’s friends said, jumping to his defense.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Don said quietly. “You’re both right. He probably can’t see us yet. Even so, we need to get a move on.” Tyson and the two boys looked at him. Don shrugged amicably. They were going to have to live with one another for a while. No one needed to make enemies the first day.

  “Agreed,” Roberto Inez announced loudly. He walked to where Don sat, held out a hand, and pulled him to a standing position.

  Before anyone could add to the conversation, a small bot broke through the trees and hovered toward the middle of the group. The boys sat frozen as it scanned the clearing.

  Don swore under his breath. “Get up,” he told Tony, who had flopped to the ground beside him earlier. “We need to move now.”

  Roberto looked around him and hissed at the other boys, “Vamos, let’s go.” He started back up the hill, and the others filed into a line hurriedly behind him. The bot followed close on their heels. Nothing else was said until they reached the parade ground once more. Then Don heard a ripple of groans come down the line of boys. The sergeant was waiting for them.

  “You’re late,” Sergeant Cohan announced as the last of the boys stood before him, doubled over and breathless. The bot skirted the group and came to rest beside him. “Unacceptable. In my company, tardiness is just another form of disobedience. The next time you let Bitty catch up with you, you will clip the grass around the mess hall with your fingernail clippers.”

  Don could hear whispers of disbelief among the boys. Don closed his eyes. His breathing had slowed down to something that resembled a regular pace, but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure why the run had been so difficult. He was in shape, better than many at the space station. His father had made sure of that, but he felt far more drained than he should have been.

  “Because of your tardiness, the morning schedule must be revised. The twenty extra minutes it took you will come from 0640 to 0700 hours. The next time I tell you not to stop, I suggest you don’t.”

  A murmur ran through the boys. How had he known?

  Sergeant Cohan continued as if he hadn’t heard. “I can guarantee you won’t be able to handle the consequences. As you won’t if you do not stand at attention this minute!”

  Scattered, and in no particular formation, Don and the rest of the boys snapped to attention. Don could see a few of them struggling to stand straight after the run, but for Don it was second nature. No matter how hurt or tired he was, his muscles knew where they were supposed to be.

  “Since it is obvious that you have a hard time following orders, a schedule has been placed on your barracks door. You are dismissed.”

  The sergeant turned and walked away. Don sought out Tony in the crowd during the lull between the sergeant’s exit and the migration toward the barracks. Neither he nor Tony said anything as they slowly climbed the stairs, but Don could tell Tony already hated it here. Don couldn’t blame him. If he hadn’t wanted to be here so badly, he would, too.

  “No way!”

  Don glanced up the rest of the stairs at the shout. He couldn’t see who it was from, but a round of swearing and shouts ensued from a group of boys a second later.

  “Sooray!” Tony shouted. “Hey, Sooray! What’s going on?”

  A dark-skinned boy leaned over the rail. Don could see anger clearly displayed on his features. “0640 to 0700. It’s our breakfast.”

  The grudging peace made at the top of the hill didn’t last long. It broke with Tyson’s voice in his ears. “Shut up, Antony!”

  “Maybe you should try keeping your mouth shut every once in a while,” a different voice countered. “We could be eating right now.”

  Don frowned as he pulled a clean shirt out of his locker. The argument continued as he changed out of his sweat-soaked garb.

  “If I remember correctly,” Tyson snapped, “it was your dumbass fault for that mess in the first place. You’re not volunteering to take the blame, so don’t go placing any.”

  “That’s what you think, huh?” the other boy, Michael Antony, asked. “This is my fault? Prove it, army boy. If we’d have gone like I said in the first place, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  Don looked over at Tony to see if he’d heard. Tony’s eyes widened in response. Don shrugged and peeked out from behind Tony’s locker door. He wasn’t the only one, either. Heads peered around corners to watch as the situation escalated.

  Tyson’s mouth twisted into a small, cruel smile as he faced down his accuser. “Any idiot could tell that bot would have caught up with us regardless. The sergeant wanted it to. He was obviously monitoring it.”

  “There you go again, spouting off like you know more than the rest of us. How did your mother raise such an ass?”

  Tyson visibly stiffened at the question.

  “Oh no, wait, she didn’t, did she?”

  If Don hadn’t cared about what would happen to Tyson when the sergeant found out, he would have let Tyson beat the kid up. As it was, he took two steps forward before Michael could finish talking, placing himself between the two as Tyson lunged.

  “Oh, hell, no, Don! You heard what he said.”

  Don kept a hand planted firmly on Tyson’s chest and looked over at the boy. He could feel the eyes of the entire room on the three of them. No matter what was said now, everyone would hear it. “Don’t be a fool,” he said quietly. “Back off.”

  The boy glared at Don for a moment and then gave Tyson a dirty look, “Yeah, whatever. The little Zastard isn’t worth my time.”

  “No!” Don grabbed Tyson as he jerked forward.

  “Get off me!” Tyson snarled.

  Instead of answering, Don shoved Tyson up against his locker and used his forearm to hold him there. “He isn’t worth it, Ty,” he said. “Just let him go. What’re his words worth, anyway? He’s just a little prick.”

  “I’ll kill him.”

  Don couldn’t think of an answer. No one really knew when the term Zastard was coined, but everyone understood what it meant: half-Zarwean.

  “Trainee O’Hara. Is there a problem here?”

  Don’s head snapped toward the door, where Sergeant Cohan stood watching them with a blank look. “No, sir,” Don answered.
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  “Then I suggest you unhand Trainee…” The sergeant paused, waiting for Tyson’s name.

  Tyson obliged with a short “Namm, sir.”

  Don let him go slowly. He shot Tyson a warning look that Tyson pointedly ignored it.

  “Trainee O’Hara, your presence has been requested at the commander’s office. I trust you can find your own way there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are dismissed. The rest of you have five minutes, and then you will follow me to your class. After today, I expect you to be there on time, by your own means.”

  As Don passed Tony, he paused long enough to say, “Watch him.” Then he walked quickly past the sergeant, out of the room, down the stairs, and out the doors of the barracks before even wondering why the commander would want him.

  Had his father already arranged for a ship to bring him back? Could it be possible that he was going to be forced to leave before even spending one full day at Basic? His luck really had to be bad if the first shuttle off Earth just happened to be the day after he got here. It was probably the same shuttle he’d arrived on. Don managed a bitter laugh at the irony.

  As he pushed open the doors to the small building he’d entered the day before, he felt a despairing gloom rise in him. It threatened to swallow him with every step he took. It’s your own fault, Don thought. Just because you weren’t caught right away, you got your hopes up. You knew he wouldn’t let you stay. But I had to try. You knew it wouldn’t work. Now you’ll just be under tighter security. There’s no getting out of it now.

  Don shook his head. He was standing with his hand on the doorknob to the commander’s office. Just standing there. He had no willpower to force his hand to turn.

  He didn’t have to go. He could turn around and walk out the building. He could leave the compound and never come back. He didn’t have to cooperate.

  Wouldn’t the press have a field day with that! Major General’s Son Runs Away from Basic. O’Hara Defies the Council’s Ruling. No, he couldn’t run. Besides, what did he know about Earth, anyway? He’d be lost before he left. If he made a move, it would have to be in space, but he’d be too tightly chaperoned up there.

  Feeling like a traitor to himself, he turned the knob slowly. The door clicked open and swung forward with its own weight. Numb, Don managed to get a few steps into the office before his legs refused to move.

  The commander looked up from his work. “Ah, trainee O’Hara.”

  “Sir?” He was going to say something else, ask some question, but he couldn’t remember what it was. Nor could he get his voice to work for more than one syllable.

  “I see that you have already concluded what this meeting is about, so I will be brief.”

  Don could feel the floor beneath his feet open to swallow him whole, and for a heart-stopping moment he was falling down an endless tunnel of darkness. Then his self-control took over, and all his feelings and thoughts were pushed into the back of his mind to be released at a more appropriate time.

  “I received a transcript from General O’Hara this morning, explaining that you will remain here for the first six-month semester and continue on to Commander’s School at the time when Space Jumper prospects are chosen. For reasons unknown to the general, Maynard believes that there can be more gained by your time spent here than will be lost.”

  Don blinked.

  “That being the case, you still have the choice of leaving this afternoon on a shuttle that will take you directly there. The choice is yours, but you should know that at any moment, you may be pulled out of Basic to attend your rightful school if your father or Maynard wishes it.”

  He was going to get to stay! It wasn’t a definite yes or no, and there had certainly been no reference to letting him join the Space Jumpers, but he had six months. He could think of something in that time, especially with Tony and Tyson helping. Besides, they’d let him stay here! If he stacked the deck in his favor again, he might just get his way. Exuberant, Don turned to go.

  “O’Hara.”

  “Sir?”

  “You haven’t answered the question.”

  Don frowned at the scarred commander. “What question was that, sir?”

  “Whether you are staying or leaving.”

  “Oh, well, of course I’m staying, sir.”

  The commander sighed at Don’s matter-of-fact tone, almost as if he wished Don had chosen otherwise.

  Don had been here for less than a day, but he doubted one boy had ever caused the man this much trouble. Impishly, he wondered how much trouble he could get into in the next six months.

  “You’re going to be late for your class, trainee. You are dismissed.”

  Don grinned and saluted smartly before exiting the small room. He felt as if he could skip all the way back. Instead, he found himself at a dead stop ten feet from the building. Where was this class he was going to? He didn’t see anyone outside, so it must be an inside class. Which one, though? Don supposed he could pick buildings at random and check each room, but that would take up quite a bit of time.

  “That way.”

  Don turned around and saw the secretary from the day before walking toward him from the commander’s building. He was pointing to a building on Don’s left and holding out a small piece of paper. Don thanked the man. He scanned the paper quickly as the secretary left. It was an excuse note. He didn’t know they gave those out at Basic. He shrugged and took off at a light jog despite his aching muscles. No point in being later than he was already.

  Don skidded to a stop in front of the only classroom from which noise was coming. He peeked in the window to get the lay of the land and found himself a little surprised by what he saw. The teacher was not wearing a military uniform, nor was his flyaway hair a military-approved cut. It was about two inches too long for that. He must be a civilian, Don decided. That was a little less threatening.

  He pulled the door open slowly and quietly entered the room. The teacher turned and raised an eyebrow at him. He looked young, but seemed to have complete confidence in himself.

  “You’re late.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Don mumbled. As an afterthought, he held out the note.

  “Name?”

  “O’Hara, sir.”

  Eyes shot to his face, but any other surprise was masked. “Take a seat, Trainee O’Hara. As I was saying, this class is to prepare you for the outside world.”

  Don searched the room and found the only empty chair. It was in the front; no surprise there. Don slid quickly into it as the teacher continued.

  “Since you all come from space, you will know nothing of Earth.” He turned to the blackboard along the back of the wall and began to write on it in large, loopy letters. “That is why I am here: to teach you how to survive on Earth.”

  Don leaned sideways to see what the teacher had written on the board. Professor God. So he had a sense of humor. Cute.

  “Now, what are your questions?” he asked. “No need to raise your hand in this class.”

  No one said anything. The professor didn’t continue. Some of the boys began to shift in their seats. When was he going to get to the lesson? Still, no one said anything. It became clear that the man had no intention of continuing, and the boys grew even more confused. Finally, someone spoke up.

  “Sir, what exactly are we supposed to be doing?”

  “Asking questions,” the professor answered.

  Don traded glances with another boy. “About what?” he asked.

  “Anything and everything you don’t know.”

  Silence.

  Don glanced around the room. A few people looked timidly amused, not sure if the professor was serious or just playing with them.

  “Well,” Don started, then paused before continuing. “What about the rest of our classmates? How come we haven’t seen anyone else here?”

  The professor’s face brightened at the question. “Good. That’s a start. Because most of you have lived your lives in space, it is necessary not just for
you to learn about Earth, but to be conditioned when you first arrive.”

  “Why?” The question was thrown out the second the professor stopped speaking. He looked delighted by it.

  “Because on Earth, you are weaker, less knowledgeable, and need time to catch up with the natives. Not that you’re incompetent where you come from, but here you are all quite a liability. If we were in space, then it would be the Earth civilians who would require conditioning.

  “You see, even though colonies and ships in space have artificial gravity, it is, in fact, less than the gravity on Earth. You might have noticed when arriving at the airport yesterday that your body seemed to be weighed down. When you ran this morning, did your feet drag on the ground? Did you feel tired more quickly? These are all effects of the extra gravity your body is not used to.

  “Besides that, as I proved earlier, you have no idea what is safe and what can kill you. Most natives are acquainted with nature enough to get by for a few days if stranded somewhere. They take for granted things that you have never seen or heard of before. So we bring in trainees from space one or two weeks earlier to condition them. Then, when the natives arrive, they can compete with them instead of being left to bite the dust. There are, of course, other space trainees, but they are being accommodated at other camps. Does that answer your question?”

  Don nodded, already shaping his next question. “Sir, in your opinion, what is it that we need to know to compete with the others when they come?”

  A smile spread slowly across the professor’s face. In the next three hours, the class learned about some of the plants native to the area they were in, which ones were harmful and which were not. They learned about the effects of higher altitude versus a lower altitude, how to watch out for silt or shale on the path to keep from slipping, how you should always run sideways on the side of a mountain if rocks begin to fall above you. There didn’t seem to be an order to what they learned. Most of the time, the professor would say something, and two or three questions would rise because of it, and the answers to those would lead to more.