Chapter 8
The Range
Suffice to say nobody even wanted to speak with End at the Photon Rifle Range. They were too tired catching their breath from the unnecessary jog to the range. End was very tired and unfit for any kind of immediate activity, but not to worry. The day at the Photon Rifle Live Firing Range was always going to be a slow process.
On this day, the entire school two, with its one thousand seven hundred and fifty recruits, was scheduled to go for range on the same day. This was because Amon was scheduled to make a stopover to make his presence felt in the media. Each recruit’s firing time was only about ten minutes. The rest of his day was spent, lazing around, or going to the mobile canteen set up by Uncle E, for snacks and gossip. Not that End was complaining. It just meant that there were ample opportunities for him to find a quiet spot and doze off. An opportunity that End took gladly as he found a nearby wall, and went into deep sleep.
But every action had an equal and opposite reaction. Knowing that most of the recruits would be slacking away their time sitting around, the ILC Headquarters decided to send down a Signal Sergeant, Sergeant Benjamin Navajo (pronounced as Navaho), a native American to teach them about signals. He was a happy man with a fresh face and loads of enthusiasm
“Maybe all I need is some opportunity,” said Benjamin Navajo to Arnold. Arnold was folding his arms, looking too proud for a conversation with the chirpy Benjamin.
“You think I will get that call one day, huh Arnold?”
Arnold said nothing.
“Ben right?” said Amon. He had finished his public relations session with the media.
“Yes sir.”
“Come to my office after this, I need your help for a major broadcast project.”
“Absolutely Sir! Love to sir!”
Amon took his leave, and everyone under his command saluted him. Benjamin was so happy that he punched Arnold’s bicep in glee.
“See Arnold! I told you that opportunity knocks for the patient one!”
Arnold didn’t feel a thing as he walked away, negating the existence of Benjamin Navajo. Even a fly had more presence. Ben was not disheartened. He began his lesson with the recruits.
“Ok gather round,” commanded Benjamin as he gathered a fraction of Raven company together for a lesson. “First and foremost, Signals isn’t about razzing and dazzling with a great voice like our commander, Colonel King. Of course you can razzle-dazzle when you are the very best code breaker and communication expert this side of the world. But what Signals is really about is the speed and accuracy of communication on the battlefield. When communication is lost, even with the best soldiers or a mass of a thousand to one ratio, your thousands of soldiers will be blind sheep running around, and the wolf will be the only one with eyes.”
He pointed a box-like piece of equipment. It was shaped like a square and was very out of fashion. It looked basically like two telephones connected by a wire.
“We have a little time today, so for those coming on board Signal Battalion, you’ll get the more advanced stuff there. But today, we are just going to go back to basics. This is the ‘101’.”
Sergeant Navajo saw End sleeping.
“Recruit End, please stand up and remain standing up for the rest of my presentation.”
End got up, but seconds later fell asleep once more in that position.
“For today, I will be teaching you how to use this set. But in times of war, it will be unlikely that you will even get to touch it.” Continued the sergeant.
“Then why are you teaching it?” asked Beef. His gang laughed.
Sergeant Navajo had seen many recruits like Beef in his time. But what he was about to demonstrate to Beef, never grew boring to watch.
“Recruit Beef, stand up.”
Beef stood up with his usual arrogant and slow motion mannerism. Faster than a click of his fingers, the sergeant had created a silver box of light that surrounded Beef’s head. The box was made of thin lines of energy. Beef could not touch the box, and therefore could not remove it.
“The air is thinning inside my silver box. And the silver linings trap the sound inside the box.”
Beef was struggling to get the box off his head. He knew that air was fast running out, and he was shouting at the top of his voice for help. Beef was waving his arms about asking for help. He hit End along his mad dash for assistance and woke End up. Sergeant Navajo was calm.
“In times of war, the first thing that disappears is your communication network. You can scream but no one will hear you.”
Beef tried to grab Navajo, but Navajo pinned him down with one arm.
“Everything you once knew about communications, your mobile phones, your fancy frequency generators or electricity for that matter disappears, and all you are left with is a good old fashion device known as a telephone, that operates on a land line.”
Navajo told Beef.
“Give me a call on that thing, and tell me what you need.”
Beef struggled with the 101.
“It seems that the wire was not properly connected. Will someone help him?”
Beef struggled, and was fast running out of air. It seemed that he would not be able to figure it out in light years. His gang came forth but none of them knew how to connect the wires properly for the device as well.
“Recruit Billy Gin, I see you are enjoying nodding off for the hundredth time. Can you help Beef out? If you can’t you’re staying back this weekend.”
Recruit Billy Gin got up. He was still a little sleepy. He walked over and fixed the wires in a second. Beef dialed the 101. Sergeant Navajo picked up the receiver on the other end.
“Yes?”
“I need air.” Said Beef.
Sergeant Navajo switched off the silver box around Beef’s head and Beef resumed normal breathing. Sergeant Navajo looked at Billy with much interest.
“Recruit Billy Gin, take this,” said Sergeant Navajo as he handed Billy a simple device that could be attached to his VF. “This is a basic signal set, I want you to send a signal to Signals HQ. The tree will be blocking you, but I want to know if you have a solution. The frequency is…”
Before the sergeant could finish, Billy Gin was doing a little dance. He glided around the floor in the shape of a circle like he was not walking. Without instruction, he put on some white gloves.
“What are you doing recruit?” asked the sergeant, “I told you to send the signal, not moonwalk.”
But before the Navajo could finish, Billy Gin had shot a light towards another recruit out of his glove. The light bounced off his VF, to the VF of another recruit, and another. The light ray bounced off several recruit’s VFs before ending up at its desired destination far away at the Signals HQ.
Billy adjusted the knobs on the signal device to amplify the volume of the broadcast of a message that was sent back to him.
“Hello, unauthorized station. Please identify yourself over.”
Sergeant Navajo took over the receiver.
“This is Sergeant Navajo, this is just a radio test over. Please identify your station over.”
“Hello Sergeant Navajo. This is Signals HQ. We receive your radio test.”
“Roger that.”
“Over and out.”
“Ow!” exclaimed Billy Gin with a tinge of celebration at his success. That was the only sound anyone has ever heard him make. But he was happy. He went back to sit down and sleep. Navajo had nothing to say after that, as he was too impressed.
“Gentleman, maybe none of you know what just happened there, but that was a master class in communications. That was what you call VF hopping, where you hope a light beam of information across a few VF to get around all obstacles. It requires a tremendous amount of concentration.”
Billy Gin’s snoring voice broke the reign of compliments that Sergeant Navajo was dishing out for him. The sergeant smiled and shook his head in awe of the hidden talent of Billy Gin. End saw it too.
There
were activities after the signals lesson, and End slept as much as he could. Even before firing a bullet, it was lunch-time, and End took his lunch pack and walked over to Uncle E’s mobile canteen in search of some entertainment. End spotted something strange at the back of the mobile canteen. He opened a little flap and saw Hoofhearted Jr and gang playing mahjong under cover.
“Shhh!” said Hoofhearted Jr as he closed the flap. At the front of the Mobile canteen, Uncle E was back to his old gossipy self.
“That’s ridiculous. He’s dead.” Said Beef.
“It’s all true!”
“You always say your rumors are true, because there is actually no way to verify them.”
“The mentor is alive.” Said Uncle E.
“Isn’t he retired?”
“Some say he is dead.”
“You shouldn’t listen to just any rumor. You should listen only to premium ones, and only Uncle E has premium rumors.” Said Uncle E.
“Who is the Mentor?” asked End.
Everyone around him gave him that look as if he were the most stupid person on the planet.
“The Mentor, a.k.a ‘Mr Tomorrow’, and the man who knows everything, is the true founder of the City of Lions.” Said Uncle E, “They say that he still runs this city and lives in the royal palace known as the Istanu. He oversees but tries his best not to intervene with the Garment’s handling of everything in the city. They say that his body is preserved so that his wisdom can be.”
“We have heard all of this before. It’s all so boring!” said Beef.
“Would you prefer me to stop?” said Uncle E.
All the recruits chanted “No!” Uncle E knew he had the audience where he wanted them.
“You were not from my time, so you probably didn’t know that before the City of Lions had an army of their own, we depended heavily on these special warriors from the City of Buddhas to protect us.”
Uncle E paused. His pause was a little too long. One of the recruits flashed his VF over the cash register censor to buy another drink, and only then did Uncle E continue. It was deliberate, something Uncle E coined, “Pay-per-gossip”.
“These warriors were known as the Golden Gurkhas. These golden Gurkhas were said to be fierce fighters. They were also fiercely loyal.”
Uncle E paused. Any pause was dreadful to the recruits as they just wanted the story to go on. Another recruit flashed his VF over the cash register’s censor to buy another drink.
“They say that when you see these warriors, there was only one strategy in the famous Book of thirty six war stratagems that you could use against them.”
“Which one is that?” asked Beef.
“Have you read the book of thirty-six war stratagems?”
“Of course!” said Beef. But of course he hadn’t.
“Stratagem number thirty six. Could you tell us what it is?” said Uncle E. He knew that Beef did not know. He knew that Beef was proud, and he knew what Beef would do. Beef could not stand to lose face, and so he tapped his VF on the censor to purchase another drink.
“I’ll let you do the honors,” said Beef.
“Stratagem Thirty six. To run away.”
The band of recruits seemed very disappointed. They were expecting some interesting stratagem. “That’s lame.” Commented one of them. Uncle E knew he was fast losing his audience, but he had it under control.
“Hold on. Rumor has it that there is a unbreakable vault. And inside, the Mentor still lives.”
“Who is the Mentor?” someone who had just joined the group asked. There were some recruits leaving.
“Shhh. Let Uncle E continue.”
“And protecting the Mentor was eighteen Golden Gurkhas and a very special bodyguard.”
“Who is this bodyguard?”
“No one knows,” said Uncle E, “But it is said that he never leaves The Mentor’s side.”
More recruits were leaving.
“Do the Golden Gurkhas ever leave the Mentor’s side?”
“They do so only when there is an AGM.”
“What is an AGM?”
“Annual General meeting, between the Mentor and the Colonels. The Mentor doesn’t meet in person with the Colonels, but he allocates the Gurkhas to protect the colonels in this meeting. Otherwise no one enters and no one leaves the vault ever.”
If everyone leaves, there would not be enough people to buy his drinks, and he would not reach his quota of the day. Uncle E was becoming desperate.
“Doesn’t the Mentor need to go to the washroom? And the bodyguard? Does he not need to relieve himself once in a while?” Asked Beef. More recruits left. There were only a handful left.
“They do not. They are no longer just human.”
“What does that even mean?” asked someone.
“And why do you need eighteen strong guys and one mysterious guy to protect one old guy?”
“They are not just protecting the Mentor. They are also protecting the key!”
“What key?”
“Key to the men’s room of course.” Said Beef.
“No, the key to the city.” Said Uncle E with great dramatic effect.
“What does that key unlock?” asked Hoofhearted Jr, as he stopped playing mahjong and joined the group. As Hoofhearted Jr joined in, more people joined in. They too wanted to know what the Key to the city unlocked. Uncle E knew he had everybody where he wanted them.
“That’s all the gossip for today.” This was his business strategy, always leave on a high for better business tomorrow.
“That’s not fair!”
“Tune in for more tomorrow!” said Uncle E with a salesman’s smile.
“We won’t be here tomorrow!”
“Another group would.” Whispered Uncle E, “and you the rumor will spread to them for sure.”
“Hey guys!” shouted Beef all of a sudden, “I just found out that everything he said can be found on Leakipedia. He is a rip off!”
The recruits began to boo Uncle E.
“It’s the way I tell the story that counts” said Uncle E with eyes brimming with confidence, “Besides the Leakipedia doesn’t have an answer to what the key unlocks too.”
“So neither do you.” Said Beef.
“I do know what the key unlocks.”
“Rip off.” Said someone.
“Hey. It’s the way I tell the story that counts.” Said Uncle E. Not a single recruit was left after that. They were disappointed. They had been tricked. Uncle E was not the least bit worried. That was his plan, thought End. End had been quietly observing Uncle E. He had an intuition about most people.
Just then, Arnold came up to the recruits.
“Raven company. Get ready. You’re next.” Said Arnold.
Finally, End was called to take a shot at the range. Before it was his turn, he tried to observe everyone, especially the marksmen. He observed them so that he could perhaps figure out how to use that weapon. But as usual he could not even power up his rifle. Arnold was once again fuming with anger.
“Get out of my sight.” Shouted Arnold as he threw his helmet to the ground and stomped it. His poor and innocent helmet had to suffer the wrath of Arnold, because End was till nowhere near the basic skills of LightCatching.
While everyone was comparing their marksmanship scores, End was still crouched in a corner struggling with energizing the photon rifle with his emotions. Arnold was still hurling a year’s load of abuse on him, and End was getting more and more demoralized by the minute. After another disastrous round of not firing a single photon bullet, End came back and sat down on the floor in a corner. No one came to talk to him. He felt that perhaps in their eyes, he was just too incompetent a person to deserve their friendship.
“Here.”
A packet of “Essence of Guava was brought up to End’s face. It was ?. She sat down on the bench facing End. End was still nervous about being around ?.
“Are you alright?”
“I am fine”
“Are you su
re?”
“Yes.”
? looked at End. End had stopped trying to power up his rifle.
“It seems that you cannot power up your rifle.”
End is speechless. He really wanted to salvage the last of his dignity but his problems were always figured out by ? with such ease.
“Yes.”
“It’s easy, just concentrate.”
? shows End that she too has a viewfinder.
“For us medics, this special pack attached to the viewfinder allows us to heal others.”
“But how do you power up the viewfinder in the first place?”
“Well, you have to feel.”
“Feel?”
“Yes. I am no expert either, but when I need to do it, I think of my mother. I think of everything she has done for me, and the viewfinder just powers itself up.”
End looked away.
“I think about all the hardship she went through to bring me up, and I think about using my salary to buy her a neat present for her birthday which will be up coming soon. Everything is my mama.”
As ? said that, the energy levels in her viewfinder saw a surge.
“Why don’t you try it too? Think of your parents?”
“My parents don’t care about me. I was scheduled to face the Sphere of influence and they were not even in the room to save me. I hate my parents.”
“Sit next to me,” said ?
“Why?”
“Just sit here, next to me. I want to tell you something but I want you to know that I am on your side as you receive it.”
End came over and sat next to ?
? slapped End in the face.
“Ow!”
“Never hate your parents!” said ?, “I am working hard here, sending every cent I have back to my mama. She is sick, and between taking care of her and working, my hands are already full. I consider it a privilege to be working hard for her, a privilege to be able to take care of her, because she is my mama, and I love her. So don’t for a second tell me you hate your parents. Maybe the reason you can’t power up your viewfinder, is because you bear no responsibility to anyone, and so you have no fear. When you have no responsibilities, you cannot have emotions.”
? finished what she had to say.
“There. I have said what I have to say. Can we still be friends?”
In that instance End wanted to be more than friends. She spoke sense, and she was the first person he had ever met that could deliver such sense bundled in a tight slap, that was acceptable by the proud and self-loathing End.
“Yes,” replied End with some humility at last. Believe me, it was not easy to muster up that kind of humility. ? smiled, and she was even prettier when she smiled. And End was happy that he could make her smile, a feat that he hoped he could always repeat. Behind her, Dr Lecter saw her smiling at End and jealousy made his green eyes even greener, literally. End looked at Dr Lecter from a distance, he knew that he could no longer depend on Hoofhearted Jr to protect him.
“?, come here for a moment?” said Dr Lecter.
“I have to go,” said ?. She paused for a moment and looked at End. “See you at the next canteen break!”
As she turned around, she turned back instinctively, and gave End a kiss on the cheek.
The entire universe stood still. End did not see that coming, and neither did ?. ? never thought she would do what she just did. She cocked her head sideways like a confused chicken that had just laid a square-shaped egg. Was it the guilt of slapping him that propelled her to compensate it with a kiss? She didn’t know, but she smiled back at End and ran off to Dr Lecter. Lecter was of course fuming, and his eyes threatened to go full green.
And so with a mixture of happiness and jealousy, End smiled as he saw ? walking away. He was happy, in fact he was so happy that he felt a radiant glow of energy about him. He felt hot at first, mistaking the heat for perhaps a sudden realization that he had been without shade for too long. To his surprise, he looked at his own viewfinder, and found that it was glowing. End rushed over to see Arnold.
“Do you know how hard I work every night, writing and sending letters to the main HQ, telling them that you are obviously not a LightCatcher. Why are you doing this to me now?”
Arnold was always sarcastic, but he always meant well, as evident from his anxiousness to rush for a retake of the Photon Rifle Range test for End. End actually managed to power up a photon rifle for the first time. Although his marksmanship was still something left to be desired. He managed to get one out of twenty shots on target, and was dancing in his foxhole to no end.
“You are the only one who is happy to have hit one of a possible twenty five targets. Ultimately when your last chance is used up, you will be sent back to the Sphere. Do you hear me?”
“Yes Arnold!” said End, but he did not hear Arnold. He was delirious and smiling inside his heart, because all the pressure was released for a moment from his shoulders. Arnold looked at him and shook his head. He was still angry that he had spent oh so many nights writing those letters.
“So, how did you finally manage to do it?” asked Arnold.
End turned his head to take a peep at ?. ? was talking to the doctor when she saw End’s peep, and she smiled back at him. End finally smiled with all his heart.