*****
“Damned if the Screamer doesn’t have a boner for you, man!” Ray laughed as they waited in line.
As with all buildings on base, the canteen was a low-set construction, bone-white in color except for its roof, which was a dull green. What set it apart was its wide one-piece smoked window, which doubled as a gigantic data-screen. What showed on the screen usually depended on the mood of the shift officer of the day. Some liked to play images from previous courses, the recruits thus being forced to watch as some unfortunate predecessor got his ass handed to him in combat training. Some more administrative types liked to present slide-shows of the military virtues, along with inspiring images of men and woman in impeccable uniforms. Courage, discipline, loyalty, etcetera.
The only shift officer whose use of the data-screen seemed appropriate to Toni was Lieutenant Templeton himself. The day before yesterday, the entire base had been treated to old Earth wildlife documentaries. At breakfast, they had found themselves watching a golden sun, quite different from their own, rising from the African highveld to the soft sound of shakuhachi flute. Lunchtime had been a succession of hunting sequences, focusing mainly on the ferocious feline as it pounced on the endearingly unsuspecting herbivore. It had been interesting to note who rooted for which side as they enjoyed their steak and liver meal.
Toni had sided with the predators, of course.
Dinnertime had bestowed upon them a medley of gorgeous sunsets, accompanied afterwards by images of nocturnal wildlife with a starry sky as the backdrop.
Today, however, the data-screen displayed a rolling message informing all present that, at the end of the previous week, a member of the Foot Infantry Battalion had been found guilty of sleeping in the course of sentinel duty, having as a result been sentenced to a public verbal reprimand and reduction of his Behavior Classification. The shift officer, an ageing captain with a heavy gut and soft, lazy eyes, watched the advancing procession closely, gauging the recruits’ level of interest at the public service announcement.
Must work in the Justice and Discipline Department, Toni thought. Apparently he was not the sort to strike gentleman agreements with his quarry.
He wondered whether Stick had been the punished soldier.
“Yo ... Toniquita, did you hear me, man?” Ray asked loudly, tapping a finger against his skull as if to hint at his friend’s lack of sanity.
A smile tugged at the corner of Toni’s mouth. Ray had a habit of ridiculously pimping up everyone’s names.
“I heard you. I saw him give you the evil eye back in class, too. What was that about? Aren’t you two supposed to come from the same neighborhood, or something?”
Ray laughed.
“That’s exactly why he hates my guts, man. It’s a neighborhood thing. My father hates the asshole. Thinks he’s a prick, though I can’t imagine why. Even said so to Mason’s face once. Got into a fight with him ‘cause of it. Now Mason hates my pa, which means he hates me by association, get it? Which means we’re both fucked, mate,” he finished, laughing as he was handed a plateful of chicken stew.
“So who won the fight?” Toni asked.
“Ever seen my pa?” he retorted, apparently offended at having been asked.
“No.”
“If you had, you’d know who,” he declared boldly before carrying on. “What’s your pa like?”
“What? He’s, uh, he’s CO2 intolerant. Has a lot of problems with that. Works in agriculture –”
“Plantations?” Ray asked with interest.
“Only recently got into pulp production. Mostly we work with livestock.” Toni felt uncomfortable with the conversation, as if his father’s beliefs would somehow shoulder they way through his words and declare themselves to all nearby.
“You know there are treatments for that, don’t you?”
“His condition is pretty serious, alright?” Toni answered testily.
“Ahuh, that’s cool, man ...”
“What’s cool? Is it edible?” Gordie asked as he bit deeply into a chicken leg. They took their seats opposite him on a solid canteen table reserved for recruits.
Gordon Winters, formerly known as Scarybrow, more recently christened Gordie by his comrades, was nearing the end of his meal, but he attacked the last scraps of food with the same gusto others usually reserved for their first bites. His solid physique was testament to his appetite, although all knew that there was more than fat attached to his frame. His time on the Click had been the fourth fastest.
“Mind your own business, or all you’re gonna eat is my boot!” Ray threatened with mock hostility, receiving a smack on his crown for his trouble. The Leibenese winced at the pain, but didn’t seem to mind Gordie’s quick retort.
“I was talking about my father. He works with livestock.”
“Oh, is that right? Mine’s in the North Thau cavalry. Had me a little late, he’ll be retiring next year.”
Gordie suddenly leaned forwards, his lunch safely tucked away, and whispered to them.
“Did you hear about Ian being the LT’s nephew?”
“What?” Toni and Ray exclaimed at the same time.
“Got that from a footie last night. Can you believe they just put a Templeton in command of a Templeton? Damn, there should be a law against that,” he said, discreetly ensuring that the subject of their discussion was still sitting at the table’s other end.
After two weeks in the same casern, their most senior fellow recruit still remained an unknown quantity to them. Ian had a poker face to match his verbal reserve, and kept a wall up as if he were somehow in stiff competition with his fellow recruits. Toni suspected that perhaps that was true, but still found the attitude fundamentally disrespectful. Either way, Ian maintained a force field that to date had resisted all attempts to breach it.
Ray was game for the conversation.
“No surprise he ended up senior then. D’you know what else? According to regulations, until they find a corporal for the Drill Team, Ian will have to assist for them,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“No one would put a recruit in a Drill Team. I think ...” Gordie seemed surprised at the information, but Toni suspected that Ray was right.
“Don’t hunch together like that, guys, you look like you’re planning a coup or something,” Hirum whispered in mock conspiracy over their shoulders before settling down beside Gordie.
Hirum was, like Toni, still called by his first name only because nobody had as yet found a more appropriate handle for him. A native of North Thau, the youngest son of a pair of researchers, Hirum was about as tall as Gordie, despite possessing only half his shoulder width. Watching the two, Toni found the contrast amusing. Gordie seemed to sit taller only because his well-padded rear offered him a height advantage over his comrade. Hirum was also the youngest of the platoon, and would be turning eighteen in six months. Speaking softly but still wearing his sly grin, he continued.
“So, let me guess. You’re talking about the promotion, aren’t you?” he deduced with a snicker.
“Even if it’s true, it’s still no promotion, dammit. He’s only a recruit, no more than any one of us. If it happens at all, it will only be a temporary responsibility,” Gordie hissed. Besides Ray, he was the eldest of the platoon, at twenty two.
“Then why did the Screamer call him aside like that?”
“When did this happen?” Toni asked, finding sudden interest in the conversation.
“Oh, you didn’t know? I was in the bathroom when the Screamer found me. I thought I’d done something wrong, but he just told me to find Ian and tell him to see the Sarge in the Instructor’s Cabin immediately. So I did just that,” he finished.
“And what did Ian say?” Ray breathed as he put on his I-told-you-so expression.
“Didn’t say a word. He just nodded like he was expecting it, or something, and left.”
The group digested the news for a moment.
“If he tries order me around, I’ll fuck him up!” Ray fin
ally burst out, rubbing his knuckles dramatically for effect.
“No, you won’t,” Gordie retorted with a frown.
They had already received warnings from the senior soldiers on base. Drill Teams tended to severely punish their platoons for transgressions committed by any constituent. No one was keen on discovering whether this was true or not.
“You’ll see,” Ray said quietly. He seemed to be about to say something else, but then Toni noticed Ian walking towards them.
“Quiet, guys. Incoming,” he whispered.
Gordie’s suddenly innocent expression and Hirum’s anxious one amused Toni, but he kept the grin off his face as Ian came to a halt before them. The senior recruit gave the group a curt nod before speaking.
“Guys, I need you to spread the word. We’re to form up at ten to fourteen hundred. We need to have a talk.”