The Ninth (36 page)

Kindra stared at the scene in complete disbelief.  A
Weaver
was having a normal conversation with
normal
troopers.  Maybe Humphrey was right – the universe
was
ending.

“You look troubled today.  Is something the matter, sir?”  Doug ignored the jabs.

“Not really.  Just didn’t expect this”.  Brent took another glance down the long line.  “I’ll no doubt be late.”

“Late for what?” the second asked.

“Weaver Davis wanted us all there two hours early.”  Brent shrugged.

The two shook at the thought of being late for an appointment with a Weaver.  Kindra found it slightly ironic, given the fact they were talking with one.  She couldn’t believe her eyes, two girls were running toward them, waving to the Weaver they approached.

“What’s wrong, Dougie?  We’ve been holding your stall forever now.  Don’t tell me you overslept
again
,” Marie reprimanded Doug.

“Morning, Weaver.”  Liz bowed formally to Brent.

“You know you don’t have to call me ‘Weaver,’” he said with a sigh before returning the bow.  “Brent works just fine.”

“That’ll work!  Hey, Doug, I’ve got an idea.”  The second boy pulled Doug’s ear and started whispering to him.

“Perfect!  Hey, Marie.  Take Brent back with you.  He can take my place.  I don’t have anything important to do for a while anyways.”  Doug shrugged and smiled.

“You sure?  All right, no skin off my nose.  Hey Liz, make sure to keep close to him.”  Marie winked as she started down the line.  “Don’t want to lose track of him in the crowd.”

Liz blushed softly as she gestured for him to follow.  Together, the two girls led Brent down the hallway full of troopers toward the waiting stalls.  Kindra blinked unbelievingly at the entire exchange she had just witnessed.

“Something wrong, Kindra?”  Cain noticed her distress.

“Those troopers, they just
talked
to Brent.”  Kindra was snapping out of it.

“Oh, you don’t know about them do you?”  Cassandra grumbled to herself.  “That’s part of Brent’s fan club.”

“He has a
fan club
?!”  Kindra didn’t believe it.  “A Weaver.  Our
Weaver
has a fan club?”

“Well, this is the FF, not a normal trooper as far as the eye can see,” Cassandra joked.  “Makes sense we’d get the one oddball Weaver.”

“You think
that’s
bad?”  Cain chuckled.  “You should see the following he has in the war room.  They even made their own capes to copy Brent.”

“You’re lying!”  Cassandra cringed at the thought.  “You mean people are
intentionally
dressing up in that horrid cape thing?”

“By the dozen,” Cain said before bursting into laugher.

“Whoa,” Kindra interrupted firmly.  “Back up, you two.  You are talking about our Weaver, right?  The boy that just ran off with the two girls.”  Kindra pointed off in the distance.

“That’s the one.”  Cain nodded.

“He
is
a Weaver, right?”  Kindra pressed

“Of course.”  Cain nodded again.

“Like the ones already on the station,” Kindra continued.  “One of those ‘get inside your head and mess you up for fun’ Weavers, right?”

“Not exactly.”  Cain looked to Cassandra for help.

“He
is
a Weaver, but he doesn’t act like one,” Cassandra explained.  “I personally watched him beat the tar out of two Weavers who were tormenting a group of defenseless troopers.”

Kindra stared at the two, still not sure she believed the story.  Every Weaver she had ever met treated her as an inferior life form, as if they were talking to a lowly bug.  The idea of a Weaver not only getting along with others, but defending them against his own kind was a hard pill to swallow.

“Okay, from the beginning.  What else don’t I know about our new Weaver?”  Kindra was determined to get the whole story.

It had been close.  Even with Liz and Marie’s assistance, Brent had barely managed to get to the room on time.  As he entered he found Davis sitting behind a desk in the corner of the room, idly reading his pad.  The Weaver was obviously startled when he entered.

“You made it?”  Davis shouted in astonishment.  “On time no less.”

Brent realized the room was completely empty.

“I had some help.”  He shrugged as he took a nearby seat.

“I assumed everyone wouldn’t make it, or at the very least be incredibly late.”  Davis put his pad down.  “Thought I was going to have to make you all run laps.”

“Seeing as we are alone, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.  What is it?”

“I’m not normal, am I?  For a Weaver, I mean.”

“That’s hard to say, Brent.”  Davis shifted uncomfortably.  “Every Weaver is different.”

“I understand that, but this is more than simple variance.  I don’t sense things like they do.  I don’t act like they do; I don’t
think
like they do.  It’s like I’m not really one of them.”

“To a certain degree you are right.  You don’t behave like most Weavers.  But don’t think there is a right or wrong way about it.  Like many things in life, it isn’t as simple as black and white, right or wrong.  Weavers are treated differently than normal people; it tends to color their personalities.  However, in the end it is a personal choice.”

“So there are other Weavers like me?”

“There are a
few
who think like you do.  They are equally as unpopular.”

“I gather you heard about the fight in the mess hall.”

“Along with half the troopers on the station and almost all of the Weavers.  It hasn’t exactly improved your standing among the other Weavers.”

“Over a little scrap?”

“The fight is meaningless; it’s the ideal behind it.  A Weaver stood against his own kind, over a group of troopers no less.”

“Do you think it was wrong of me?”

“What I think isn’t important.  There is a growing number of Weavers who see you as a pariah. 
They
are the ones you need to worry about.”

“Are they dangerous?” Brent asked.

“You’ve fought against a few.  What do you think?”

“Point taken.  Do you think my abilities will ever develop?”

“Who can say?  What’s important is that we keep working on it.”

“Weaver Davis?”

“Yes, Brent?”

“You don’t have anything planned for today, do you?”

An annoyed look spread across Davis’s face.

“You might not be able to sense the emotions of others, but you are disturbingly perceptive.  However, you are right,” he grumbled.  “I didn’t expect anyone to show up, so I didn’t plan anything.”

“Are you going to cancel training until the trials are over?”  Brent asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“You are instructing everyone in defense because of me.  Why make everyone get up early for something they don’t really need, especially with the trials so close?”

“You make a strong argument.  Are you sure you want to make it on behalf of the other Weavers?” Davis asked hesitantly.  “They haven’t exactly welcomed you with open arms so far.”

“I’m not thinking of the other Weavers.  I just don’t like the prospect of getting up earlier.”

Davis chuckled to himself.

“Fair enough.  I’ll hold back the training until you complete your trials.  I’m still going to make the others run laps for being late, though.  Just because I’m not prepared doesn’t mean they have the same luxury.”  Davis returned to his pad.

Davis’s focus was now entirely on his pad.  Brent got up and left the room.  At least he didn’t have to worry about making it on time from now on.  For the first time, he headed to the mess hall to enjoy a sit down breakfast.  The mess hall was almost entirely full.  He spotted the table with orange and green troopers and took one of the few free spots.

“What are you doing here?”  Cain shoved the trooper sitting next to Brent over and sat down in the vacated space.  “I thought Davis would skin you alive if you were late.”

“He probably would, but I got there on time.”  He took a bite out of his meal.

“So what are you doing here?”

“He canceled his training sessions until the trial is over.”

“Isn’t that nice of him.”  Cain leaded in close.  “Listen, Kindra pinned Cassandra and me down earlier.  The cat is out of the bag.”

“Didn’t know I was keeping a cat in a bag in the first place.”

“I’m being serious.  She was keeping her distance because she assumed you were a normal ‘holier than thou’ Weaver.  So were the other leaders.  By now she’s no doubt informed Leonard.”

“You know, you fight a lot with Cassandra, but you two have a lot in common.  She’s already had this conversation with me.”

“Already?  Did she catch you before you got here?”

“Not today.  I meant she’s already talked to me about my not fitting in with Leonard’s plans.  I’ll tell you the same thing I told her; don’t worry about it.”

“Fine, have it your way.  Just be careful tonight.”

“What are you eating?”  Cassandra shouted as she spotted Brent.

Surprised by the sudden interruption, Cain stared at Brent’s plate.  His eyebrow shot up as Cassandra took a place across from Brent.  While Cain had to shove a trooper aside, those on the far side of the table naturally cleared a path for the armored girl.

“D rations?”  Cain pretended to gag.  “Already run through all your credits?”

“It’s a habit of mine.”  Brent shrugged, making a production of his next bite.  Acting as if it was the single most delicious thing he had ever consumed.

“There is definitely something wrong with you.”  Cassandra shook her head disapprovingly.

“I thought you were just abnormal, but now I know you are downright deranged,” Cain chuckled.

“Ha, ha.  Had your fun?”  Brent continued eating despite his company.

“I always get a kick out of you.”  Cain grinned widely.  “If this military genius thing ever falls through, you could always do standup.”

“And let me guess; you’d be my agent and only want ten, no, fifteen percent of my profits.”  Brent rolled his eyes.

“Gross, not net.”  Cain burst into laughter.

“You two are incorrigible,” Cassandra scoffed.  “We’ve got trials in
two weeks
, and here you are goofing off as if it were nothing,”

“She has a point.”  Brent cracked a smile.  “What exactly are we doing?  Getting up alongside the rest of you was enough of a surprise.”

“I don’t know about you, but some of us need our beauty sleep.”  Cain gestured toward Cassandra.  “The armor plated look is a hard one to pull off.”

“You finished?”  Her helmet locked on Cain.  Brent could easily make out her annoyance.

“Just as soon as you stop giving me material.”  Cain made faces at his reflection.  “I can’t resist the perfect setup.”

“Enough, you two.”  Brent tried to sound serious.  “How exactly are we going to prepare for the trial?”

“We’ll probably march in formation for a while.”  Cain used his fingers to walk along the tabletop.  “You know,
pretend
we have a clue what we should be doing.”

“Enough joking around; I mean it.”  Brent took another bite out of his meal.

“I hate to say it, but he isn’t joking.”  Cassandra sighed.

“Seriously?”  Brent set down his food and gave the two his full attention.

“Cross my heart and hope to fail with some dignity.”  Cain slumped a bit.

“So our training for the next trial is learning to mimic a parade?”  Brent was stunned.

“All we need is a prom queen and we’d be set for any major function.”  Cain chuckled.  “We’d probably do better if we just broke down into a musical number.  At least
that
would confuse the other divisions for a second.”

“We’re toast, the musical, featuring the hit single, ‘I can’t believe they bothered to show up.’”  Cassandra joined the fun.

Brent finished his meal as Cain and Cassandra continued joking around.  As he headed off to basic, he couldn’t help but wonder what
normal
divisions did to train for the trials.  He spent the rest of the day observing his fellow troopers, listening in on what they had planned and how they were preparing for the trial.  After an entire day the only thing he had learned was that there is no certain way to prepare.  Apparently, Administer Bloom designed the trials himself and had quite a reputation for the difficulty of his creations.  During both lunch and dinner the FF was remarkably silent.  The normal banter and goofing off was absent as they all sat and ate in quiet contemplation.  Brent guessed it had sunk in, and they were all anticipating their eventual failure.  When the last of the FF had finished their evening meal, the whole division trudged down the corridors.