Theirs Not To Reason Why: A Soldier's Duty (22 page)
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Authors: Jean Johnson
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“Rise and shine, Class 7157!” Sgt. Tae called out in an unnervingly cheerful tone. “Rise and
shine
!” Displaying far too many teeth, he smacked his baton against the top bunk rails and poked his head over the lower bunks, grinning at the men and women trying to wake up at the unexpectedly early hour. “Guess what, Class 7157? Today is the day we start separating the
adults
from the little
kids
!
shine
!” Displaying far too many teeth, he smacked his baton against the top bunk rails and poked his head over the lower bunks, grinning at the men and women trying to wake up at the unexpectedly early hour. “Guess what, Class 7157? Today is the day we start separating the
adults
from the little
kids
!
“That’s right, this is
Hell Week
, and your actions and endurances over the next seven days will determine a large chunk of how far you rise in rank, and how much you will get in pay grade! The Department of Innovations is always watching, and this week—
this
week, they have their eyes on
you
!”
Hell Week
, and your actions and endurances over the next seven days will determine a large chunk of how far you rise in rank, and how much you will get in pay grade! The Department of Innovations is always watching, and this week—
this
week, they have their eyes on
you
!”
Bang whack clang!
“Wake up! You will dress in your full camouflage Browns from brims to boots, jackets to caps, you will pack a second change of camies and three of undies, and then you will shoulder your packs and get outside on the line, every last one of you little boys and girls, or you will
all
have one hundred pushups and one hundred sit-ups to pay for wasting my time! Move it! You have
eight
minutes to
shakk
‘n shave—but not
you
, Recruit Ia,” Tae added, poking his baton at Ia as she slipped out of her bunk. “
You
have
five
. Weight up and move out!”
all
have one hundred pushups and one hundred sit-ups to pay for wasting my time! Move it! You have
eight
minutes to
shakk
‘n shave—but not
you
, Recruit Ia,” Tae added, poking his baton at Ia as she slipped out of her bunk. “
You
have
five
. Weight up and move out!”
“Sergeant, yes, Sergeant!” Ia snapped back. When he didn’t move out of her way, allowing her access to the latrines, she dropped onto her bunk and rolled out the far side in a single smooth move. Hurrying past the others, she tapped one of the C Squad members on the shoulder, and darted past the other woman, slipping into the latrine stall.
“Hey! You’re not the only one who has to
shova v’shakk
!”
shova v’shakk
!”
“Yeah, well, just wait twenty seconds,
then
you can blow it out yer rear!” Kumanei called out from somewhere further back in the quickly forming lines for the latrines.
then
you can blow it out yer rear!” Kumanei called out from somewhere further back in the quickly forming lines for the latrines.
Inside the stall, Ia bit her lip to keep from laughing. It really wasn’t a laughing matter; Hell Week was a frightening blank spot on the timeplains for her . . . but the way the woman from Tokyo Underside stood up for her was too amusing, and too encouraging, not to enjoy. Hurrying out again, she rushed through her morning routine, washing her hands and splashing water on her face, then raced back to her bunk.
“Move it, move it, move it, meioas!” Arstoll called out, voice piercing through the din of forty-four bodies rushing to get ready. “This is Hell Week! There is no slacking in Hell Week! There is no second chance in Hell Week! You want a great pay grade? You wanna be an officer? Move it, move it,
move
it!”
move
it!”
In the span of time it took him to say that, Ia had managed to shuck her nightclothes and don most of her camie uniform. She bent over to lace up her boots and snap on their weights—and broke a bootlace.
Dammit . . . that’s going to take me a minute I don’t
have
to re-lace it!
A furtive glance to either side showed the others scrambling to pack their gear.
I’ll have to risk it.
Dammit . . . that’s going to take me a minute I don’t
have
to re-lace it!
A furtive glance to either side showed the others scrambling to pack their gear.
I’ll have to risk it.
Reaching into her locker, Ia pulled out one of her spare packs of laces, ripped it open, and dropped one of the coils on the plexcrete floor. Stuffing the other back into its place in the inner drawer, she paused, then took it back out and dropped it on the floor as well. If one lace broke, the other was liable to break as well, so she might as well replace it. Even as it landed on top of the first, Ia pulled out her kitbag and the indicated clothes with her hands, though only part of her attention stayed with the task of packing the bag. The other half of her mind focused inward, down, and out. Not for a journey onto the timeplains, but to use one of her other gifts.
A shift allowed her to hide the fronts of her boots between the shelter of the partially open locker door and the edge of the bed. Her hands packed, and her mind worked, pulling the laces out of their holes, slithering the ends free. Concentrating on both feet simultaneously wasn’t easy. Recruit Sung jumped up onto the far edge of Ia’s bunk, using the extra height to tidy her own bedding. Out of habit, Ia reached up to help the other woman. At least the task of pulling the covers straight was a familiar, easy one, though she almost missed getting the last bit of lacing free before slithering the next set into place.
“I can get it. You need to move,” Sung warned her.
“I got it covered,” Ia muttered, smoothing the blanket and sheet into place. There was no point in fixing her own bed until her weights were on, which were currently underneath the bottom bunk, tucked into the only spot available for storage.
Sung dropped to the floor as soon as her pillow was settled and reached under Ia’s bunk. “Then I’ll pull out your—
ungh
—stupid weight suit. What’s the point of you still wearing this thing, anyway?”
ungh
—stupid weight suit. What’s the point of you still wearing this thing, anyway?”
Her boots were now half-laced, with the tops of her feet and fronts of her shins feeling a little weird from the fast weaving of the corded laces through their holes. Thankfully, the noises of the others hid the rasping sounds the lacings made as they slithered into place. Ia shook her head. “Just leave it under the bed, you’ll never get it out in time.”
ZeeZee slapped Ia on the shoulder, startling her. She hadn’t heard him approach. “You heard Sergeant Tae!
All
of us get out there on time, or we
all
do two hundred demerits. You make up her bunk, Sung; I’ll drag out the load.”
All
of us get out there on time, or we
all
do two hundred demerits. You make up her bunk, Sung; I’ll drag out the load.”
There! That’s good enough to bend over and finish tightening them.
Stepping back to give ZeeZee room, she scooped up the worn segments of the old laces and tossed them back into her locker to be recycled later, then bent over, tightened, and knotted the new ones in place. No sooner did she finish one boot than ZeeZee was there with the spat-like foot weights, ready to buckle it in place. He helped lift her weight suit pants into position as soon as her other boot was finished, snapping his way down the left leg while she caught the right. And by the time he was working on the left fitted sleeve of the tiled, web-like jacket, Sung had come over and batted Ia’s hands away from the snaps so she could fastened the right one.
Stepping back to give ZeeZee room, she scooped up the worn segments of the old laces and tossed them back into her locker to be recycled later, then bent over, tightened, and knotted the new ones in place. No sooner did she finish one boot than ZeeZee was there with the spat-like foot weights, ready to buckle it in place. He helped lift her weight suit pants into position as soon as her other boot was finished, snapping his way down the left leg while she caught the right. And by the time he was working on the left fitted sleeve of the tiled, web-like jacket, Sung had come over and batted Ia’s hands away from the snaps so she could fastened the right one.
Slapping her on her tile-covered back, Sung nodded. “You’re on your own, soldier.”
“Wrong,”
Arstoll corrected her, hefting Sung’s bag on the far side of the double bunks. “You are
never
on your own when you’re in the Marines.
Eyah?
” he called out, twisting to look at the others.
Arstoll corrected her, hefting Sung’s bag on the far side of the double bunks. “You are
never
on your own when you’re in the Marines.
Eyah?
” he called out, twisting to look at the others.
“Hoo-rah!” several of the nearest recruits called back, some looking up from packing their own bags, others with their eyes still on their tasks.
“I
said
, you are
never
on your own,” Arstoll called out, raising his voice once again, “when you are in the
Marines
!
Eyah?
”
said
, you are
never
on your own,” Arstoll called out, raising his voice once again, “when you are in the
Marines
!
Eyah?
”
“Hoo-rah!”
This time, the response came from all the recruits in the bunkhouse, though some of the voices echoed out of the latrine area.
This time, the response came from all the recruits in the bunkhouse, though some of the voices echoed out of the latrine area.
The grin Arstoll gave Ia was matched by a smile of her own. Shrugging her packed bag onto her shoulders, Ia settled her broad-brimmed hat over her weight-strapped head. “Keep
that
up, and you just might make officer yet.”
that
up, and you just might make officer yet.”
“
If
we can get through Hell Week,” he muttered. “Look, I may be racing you to see which of us can outlast the other . . . but only on an even start. Gimme your canteen. This one’s full.”
If
we can get through Hell Week,” he muttered. “Look, I may be racing you to see which of us can outlast the other . . . but only on an even start. Gimme your canteen. This one’s full.”
Grateful for his help, Ia nodded and swapped her empty bottle for his full one. Giving her bunk and locker a quick look to make sure everything was in order, Ia slammed the door shut and hustled outside. Sergeant Tae and Sergeant Linley waited on the far side of the exercise lawn, along with eight more drill and regimen instructors. Plus four hovercams humming quietly overhead. Twice as many as before.
Ia knew they would be watching her and her fellow recruits as much to guard against signs of severe injury and illness as to watch for the caliber of the Marine-wannabes in Class 7157. Caliber which would be revealed as Hell Week stripped away all of their bravado and false self-confidence. Trepidation twisted in her stomach.
It wasn’t a fear of how far she would get before hitting the wall, that as-yet undefined point where her skills and her body just didn’t want to give any more. Ia knew everyone hit that wall at some point during Hell Week, some earlier than others. Knowing that mental preparation was as important as physical, she hunted down and pinpointed her fear while the others scrambled out of their barracks in clumps of threes and fours, falling in around her on the lines of brickwork laid in the grass.
I fear not my own failure, nor any self-acknowledgment of failure,
she thought,
but the military’s admission of my failure. I don’t dare let myself fail. I won’t fail. I
cannot
fail, because I will go mad if I do.
My
failing is
not
an option . . . and is therefore not a problem.
It was a strange sort of reverse psychology, but she dug into it and did her best to draw strength from it.
I fear the Marines
declaring
me a failure, whether or not I actually am one. I will not
try
to win through Hell Week. I
will
win through Hell Week.
she thought,
but the military’s admission of my failure. I don’t dare let myself fail. I won’t fail. I
cannot
fail, because I will go mad if I do.
My
failing is
not
an option . . . and is therefore not a problem.
It was a strange sort of reverse psychology, but she dug into it and did her best to draw strength from it.
I fear the Marines
declaring
me a failure, whether or not I actually am one. I will not
try
to win through Hell Week. I
will
win through Hell Week.
Neither fire, nor flood, nor storm, not space, not
Hellfire
nor
Damnation
, shall stop me from what I
will
do. And no one, civilian, subordinate, or superior, will stop me from what I
must
do.
Hellfire
nor
Damnation
, shall stop me from what I
will
do. And no one, civilian, subordinate, or superior, will stop me from what I
must
do.
Sergeant Linley checked her stop-watch. “. . . On time. Every last one of you. Amazing.”
“Don’t worry.
That
will change.” Stepping forward, Tae raised his voice. “Good morning, girls and boys. You are about to endure the single most important challenge of your noncombat military careers. From this point on out, you are hereby given permission to address your superiors with direct language. You will finally get to answer questions in the first person . . . and you will be asked a
lot
of questions. Remember all that fancy in-class lecture time you’ve been sleeping your sorry, slagging ways through?
This
week will be your ongoing pop quiz.”
That
will change.” Stepping forward, Tae raised his voice. “Good morning, girls and boys. You are about to endure the single most important challenge of your noncombat military careers. From this point on out, you are hereby given permission to address your superiors with direct language. You will finally get to answer questions in the first person . . . and you will be asked a
lot
of questions. Remember all that fancy in-class lecture time you’ve been sleeping your sorry, slagging ways through?
This
week will be your ongoing pop quiz.”
“You will do what we say, when we say it, and how we say it,” the next sergeant called out. The glow of the lights on their poles combined awkwardly with the shades-of-grey of his uniform, making it hard to read the name on his chest patch. “Failure will garner either your entire squad or your entire Class demerit training . . . not just you alone. From this moment forth, you will work as a
team
.”
team
.”
“For the next seven days,” the fourth Drill Instructor stated briskly, “you
will
have the opportunity to back down, to say no more, to quit and walk away from the exercises awaiting your Class.
However
. . . if you quit at any point in time within the first twenty-four hours of Hell Week, you will be discharged from the Marines . . . and at
this
point in your training, your entire accumulated pay for the last eight weeks will total a lousy two hundred credits . . . and you will have over four
thousand
to pay back to the military to cover the cost of feeding, housing, clothing, and training you. Even if you choose to ‘cash out’ at twenty-three hours and fifty-nine point nine minutes Terran Standard into your very first day of Hell Week, you
will
be thrown out of the Corps, and given a bill for our services!”
will
have the opportunity to back down, to say no more, to quit and walk away from the exercises awaiting your Class.
However
. . . if you quit at any point in time within the first twenty-four hours of Hell Week, you will be discharged from the Marines . . . and at
this
point in your training, your entire accumulated pay for the last eight weeks will total a lousy two hundred credits . . . and you will have over four
thousand
to pay back to the military to cover the cost of feeding, housing, clothing, and training you. Even if you choose to ‘cash out’ at twenty-three hours and fifty-nine point nine minutes Terran Standard into your very first day of Hell Week, you
will
be thrown out of the Corps, and given a bill for our services!”
“For every hour past that first twenty-four-hour mark,” Tae reminded them, picking up the thread of their lecture, “you will be evaluated on your performance. Your actions, questions, responses, and reactions will be judged by the Department of Innovations, and their evaluations will go on your permanent record. Those of you boys and girls who make it only as far as the second or third day will likely spend the rest of your military career with the ranks of Private, or maybe Corporal, if you shape up and show some strength out in the real military. Those of you who make it as far as day four or day five before calling it quits just might make it to noncom status. The rare few of you,
if
there are any, who make it to day six . . . you
might
have a shot at a commissioned career in the Space Force. But I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”
if
there are any, who make it to day six . . . you
might
have a shot at a commissioned career in the Space Force. But I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”
“Do
not
make the mistake of thinking this is a solo race,” Linley called out. “Most of what will be gauged and evaluated will lie within you, this is true, but a true Space Force Marine is not an individual. It is a group of soldiers filled with and fired by the spirit of the Corps. You are not competing against your fellow recruits. You are competing against yourself. Cooperation will get you higher rankings in your DoI evaluations than any contention would, and your
teamwork
will ensure your survival, both right here in Hell Week, and throughout your military career.”
not
make the mistake of thinking this is a solo race,” Linley called out. “Most of what will be gauged and evaluated will lie within you, this is true, but a true Space Force Marine is not an individual. It is a group of soldiers filled with and fired by the spirit of the Corps. You are not competing against your fellow recruits. You are competing against yourself. Cooperation will get you higher rankings in your DoI evaluations than any contention would, and your
teamwork
will ensure your survival, both right here in Hell Week, and throughout your military career.”
“Those of you who do want to back out of the rigorous testing of Hell Week need only step out of formation and place both hands on top of your head at any point in time, like this,” the third sergeant called out, demonstrating by placing one hand on top of the other on the crown of his hat, his feet shoulder-width apart in a sort of modified Parade Rest. “If it is past the twenty-four-hour mark, you will remain in the Marine Corps, but do
not
make the mistake of thinking you will be allowed to sit on your slagging behinds,” the third drill sergeant asserted. “Those of you who step out after the first day will enter an accelerated program of
remedial
training, both physical and educational, until the end of this week.”
not
make the mistake of thinking you will be allowed to sit on your slagging behinds,” the third drill sergeant asserted. “Those of you who step out after the first day will enter an accelerated program of
remedial
training, both physical and educational, until the end of this week.”
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