Stone Blade (3 page)

***

The next day Micah's parents visited again.

“We heard, son.” Clearly Lawrence Stone remembered Carruthers' stories too.

“It was that or equatorial, father.” Micah shrugged. His parents nodded.

“Young Jennifer called on us yesterday,” said his mother.

That brightened Micah.

“How is she?”

“Doing well. She says you still owe her some data.”

Micah smiled, which puzzled his mother.

“Adamson wasn't really interested in her,” said his father, “Just had her demoted to the port labor pool. We may share shifts, sometime.”

“She does seem nice,” smiled his mother.

“She is. Will you see she's well?”

“Of course, son. I'll tell her you asked. I think she'd have come if they'd let her.”

Micah nodded.

“Time,” said the guard.

Chapter 2. Enlisted

Micah's trip to boot camp was a long ride in a hot, uncomfortable, crowded hoverbus. Several of the young men and women at the front talked with excitement but most of the others kept quiet. Micah sat at the back with another lowcarder who had a vacant stare and an impressive collection of recently-healed scars. Disinterestedly Micah watched what terrain he could see passing.

“FALL IN, YOU WORMS!!”

The voice broke through the milling mass of people the hover disgorged.

“I SAID FALL IN, YOU WORMS!! PUT YOUR WORTHLESS WORM FEET ON THE WHITE LINE, YOU WORMS!!”

Micah and the others hurried to comply. The source of the voice, an elemental force clad in an immaculate uniform, dogged the heels of the slowest ones.

“LISTEN UP, YOU WORMS! I AM SERGEANT WILLIAMS, YOU WORMS! I AM YOUR MOTHER, YOUR FATHER AND YOUR WHOLE SWINE-RAPING FAMILY NOW!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND, YOU WORMS?!”

“Yes sir,” spatted an anemic chorus.

“SAY WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!”

“YES SIR.” Louder this time and closer to unison.

“DID YOU WORMS SAY SOMETHING?”

“YES SIR!!”

“DO NOT SIR ME, WORMS! I WORK FOR THE COMMONWEALTH, MAY LIBERTY REIGN!!”

“YES SIR!” vied with “YES SERGEANT!” this time.

Williams strode up and down the line looking at each person like the worms he'd named them.

“I want you to KNOW. I have NEVER in my LIFE seen such a WORTHLESS collection of WORMS, MAGGOTS and SEWAGE-SUCKING VERMIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“YES SERGEANT!!”

Williams gazed upon them a moment longer.

“IF YOU'RE THE BEST THIS GENERATION CAN DO I FEEL SORRY FOR YOUR MOMMIES. I FEEL SORRY FOR YOUR DADDIES! I FEEL SORRY FOR ALL THE WORMS YOU USED TO CRAWL AROUND WITH, DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“YES SERGEANT!!”

Micah almost grinned. This was straight off the holovee and nothing he hadn't expected. Perhaps, he thought, he'd not made a bad choice after all.

“FALL OUT, YOU WORMS! HAUL YOUR WORTHLESS WORM ASSES TO THE ORIENTATION CENTER. THAT IS THE BUILDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR WORTHLESS WORM FACES!!”

Williams perused them a second more.

“I SAID MOVE! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE...”

Micah and the others MOVED!

***

Micah lay back on his bunk, not wanting to chat with his erstwhile roommates but not particularly avoiding it. Orientation was an ordeal of filling out forms, being inspected, being examined, being measured, getting uniforms and constantly being barraged by Williams or one of his ilk. When they moved they moved double-time and when they didn't move they stood at attention. The training staff had small yet stiff crops and they used them eagerly. More recruits than Micah bore small bruises.

“Vacuum city,” groaned Terry McRiddle from the upper bunk, “Coming down.”

McRiddle sat on his footlocker and faced Micah.

“I know that motherless bottomfeeder said we don't have a past but nulling our Status? That reeks to orbit!”

“Only if you got some to lose,” said Bill Teague from the bunk next to Micah, “Some of us don't have but four or five levels. Hades, we may even have a lowcarder or two here. They probably think this is a posh.”

Micah yawned a real one and rolled over.

“Hmmf,” said McRiddle, “G'night, Micah. Sweet dreams. Yeah, I will too.”

Micah lay in the darkness and mulled his situation. McRiddle and Teague obviously didn't know he was a lowcarder. He didn't see fit to enlighten them. They didn't necessarily speak with malice but they might...

“ATTEN-HUT, YOU LAZY WORMS!! I SAID GET OUTTA BED, YOU LAZY WORMS!! THIS AIN'T YOUR HOUSE AND I AIN'T YOUR BABY-SITTER!! I SAID GET YOUR LAZY WORM ASSES OUTTA BED NOW, YOU LAZY WORMS!!”

Micah, barely asleep after Lights Out, stumbled groggily from his bunk. McRiddle thumped to the floor beside him and they both snapped to attention. They tried to snap to attention; they very loudly and with profanity did not impress Williams.

After bare minutes to pull on their boots and whatever else they thought to snatch from their kits the recruits went for a night run. Williams felt the urge to run some of the foul taste out of his mouth. They ran.

***

Micah's second day at boot camp gnawed at his conviction that he made the right choice. He thought himself in decent shape but Williams quickly disabused him of this. Supple rather than muscular, Micah ached in more places than he knew he had. They started the morning with calisthenics, then a run, then a battery of tests. Then came breakfast and more tests. Then indoctrination, which Williams called instruction. He informed them that during the next few weeks the recruits would be departing for their respective services as indicated by their tests. But not until he whipped them into something besides worthless, bottom-feeding, slime-sucking, etc. WORMS!!

***

By his third week Micah had adjusted to his schedule. Mostly. The morning run didn't wind him any longer, just warm him up for what came afterward. He could on command deliver the General Orders and Chain of Command as well as the recruits' general directives. After a trip past the posting board he could recite his orders for the day. He did well on the computer tests and felt sure he'd receive a post to Orbital or System Defense and Protection. After the fourth week the line of recruits attending the morning rituals shrank. Most of the recruits received postings. Williams called them by name, lined them up before the rest of the recruits and treated them to a long farewell insult. The others simply hadn't made the grade. Not an option for Micah, but volunteers were acerbically encouraged to show their soft yellow livers and leave when they wanted their mommies.

Micah stood with the rest of his class, ranks dressed and at rest, waiting for Williams to finish this morning's list. Most of the recruits had learned the fine art of listening with half of their attention and resting themselves with the remainder of it.

“... Simpson, Slater, Stone, Teague ...”

Micah snapped from his reverie, snapped to attention and snapped himself into William's line. He felt a tingle of anticipation! The recruits for SDP hadn't left and this seemed likely! Micah noticed the last person called: his companion from the back of the hover, Neal Yarwulf. That was all Micah knew of him. Neal kept to himself. Period.

“These WORMS,” bellowed Williams, “have the UNDESERVED honor and distinction to be assigned to one of the Commonwealth's most ELITE units!”

SDP! thought Micah, struggling to contain himself.

“These UNWORTHY SLIME SUCKERS will be joining the PROUD ranks of the 113th Tactical Assault Squadron!! They are not WORTHY of such...”

“What?!?” snapped Teague, “What the flaming hades did you say?”

Micah felt his heart drop both for his friend and for himself. He tried to shush Bill but Williams turned like a magturret. Before Micah could blink Williams was in Teague's face and a dark shade of purple.

“DID WORDS COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH, WORM? DID YOU FORM WORDS INSIDE YOUR WORTHLESS WORM BRAIN, WORM?!? DID YOU INTRUDE YOUR WORTHLESS WORM YAP ON ME, WORM?!?”

“Y-yes...”

“I HEARD YOU, WORM! WHAT GAVE YOU THE AUDACITY TO CRACK YOUR FACE AT ME, WORM? DO YOU THINK I NEED TO HEAR YOUR WORTHLESS WORM TONGUE FLAPPING, WORM? DID YOUR WORM BRAIN COME OUT OF YOUR WORM ASS WITH BREAKFAST, WORM?”

“No, ser...”

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM, WORM?!? MAYBE YOU NEED TO GIVE ME A HUNDRED!!”

Williams waited. And glared. Micah felt like screaming but held himself still. Not so Teague.

“I spoke, sergeant!  What the hades am I doing assigned to Hell's Sewer? I have Status, my Father has Status and my family...”

“
SHUT! YOUR! MOUTH!!
” Impossibly, Williams darkened. “THE COMMONWEALTH DECIDES WHERE YOU GO, WORM AND YOU WILL GO! YOU DON'T LIKE THAT YOU JUST CALL YOUR MOMMY, WORM!”

Williams looked at the unpicked recruits.

“McRiddle! Go fetch me Sergeant Umo and Sergeant Davies. The rest of you worms, DISMISSED!!”

Williams turned to Teague.

“ARRIGHT, SISSY-WORM!! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A TALK NOW!! MOVE! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE...”

***

Micah and the rest hurried to gather their kits. The barracks felt empty but Micah felt emptier. They found a hoverbus waiting. No one spoke.

Despite Williams' words and the Task Orders for the 113th Micah knew Adamson had won. Of all the different Commonwealth service branches the 113th had the highest casualty rate. They took pride in it. Rumor said they didn't count casualties unless the dead soldier took at least one opponent with him on the way out. Micah remembered Carruthers' tale.

“I worked with a squad from the 113th once. Heaven protect me from that again! Those bastards dropped in the middle of a hotzone, right over an enemy position. They shot the hades out of it and started working outward. I doubt half of 'em made it to ground and half the ones that did got hit.” Carruthers shuddered and downed a shot. “One troopie. Couldn't have been more'n thirty meters from our line. Lost his leg to the knee. Sonuvawhore just tied it off, pulled out a smite and took out a bunker. He coulda made it back. He saw us! He saw us and he motioned for cover fire. And he went back in.” Carruthers downed another shot. “The hades of it is they keep gettin' volunteers. No matter how many die...”

A corpsman brought a bruised and bandaged Teague to the hover and tossed his kit in after him. Teague limped heavily to the seat beside Micah. As soon as Micah strapped him in the driver lofted the hover and pulled out.

“It's not right,” muttered Teague, “There has to be a mistake.” He didn't speak loudly but Micah and the rest had no trouble hearing him. “The 113th isn't for us, Micah. It's a dumphole for lowcarders and prollies. There's been a mistake.”

An acid, brittle laugh answered Teague's last statement. Amazingly, it came from Yarwulf.

“What's wrong, highcarder? Soy not cooked right?”

Teague hissed and might have moved toward Yarwulf save for the straps. And bandages.

“Shut up, you slaggie. There's been a flaming mistake. Maybe you don't have anything better to give but I have skills! I placed on their flaming tests! I have Status, dammit!”

Teague looked for support but found none.

“Welcome to life, statusboy,” said Yarwulf, “How's it feel to be on the feces end for once?”

Teague turned to Micah.

“Micah, tell them! They made a mistake! We'll flaming die there. The training's in equatorial. We can't live there!”

Micah suddenly felt like vomiting.

“Tell who what.” asked Micah, “I'm Status 2. My father is Status 2, my mother is Status 2 and my grandfather was one step shy of it when he died.”

Teague gasped as though Micah had punched him.

“I was sentenced to equatorial because three highcarders attacked me and tried to rape a friend,” continued Micah, “It was equatorial or enlist and it cost me my life savings either way. Who am I supposed to tell, Bill?”

“Barred and proscribed,” said Laslo, a laconic miner from the south polar region, “because I refused to work three straight shifts in a pluton mine without antirad treatments.”

“Status 1,” added someone else, “No way out but this.”

One by one most of the others told similar tales. With each one Teague's expression closed a little more.

“No sympathy, statusboy,” said Yarwulf, “You try hard. Real hard. You might just be justice for some of the rest of us.”

The bus fell to silence, with Teague's muttering the only sound.

***

The drivers changed four times. The second and fourth brought stops for rations and a medic for Teague. Micah wondered where they might be, but not enough to ask. Each stop brought a noticeable rise in temperature. By the third stop Micah noticed the air thinning. Caustik bulged tremendously at the equator. That, plus the volcanic nature of it led to very thin air. The volcanoes also tainted the already toxic atmosphere. Hell's Sewer fit the place.

The fourth change of driver also brought a change of vehicle. They left the simple hoverbus for a sealed model. As they left, the driver sealed it tight.

The settling hover roused Micah from a troubled sleep. He didn't remember his dreams, only the gut-wrenching terror of them.

“File out by twos,” said the driver, “and wait for the lock to cycle fully.” Then he smiled.

The lock cycled and Micah and Laslo stepped out.

“TEN-HUT LEFT HACE!”

Micah snapped to attention and turned. A ham of a fist crashed into his chest and he stumbled and fell. Breath became a precious thing.

“ON YOUR FEET, SLUG! YOU BELONG TO THE COMMONWEALTH NOW, MAY LIBERTY REIGN!”

“May liberty reign...” gasped Micah automatically. He struggled to his feet, barely registering the profanity being heaped upon himself and the others.

Micah saw the familiar line and scrambled to it. Then he noticed something worse: all of the recruits stood outside with no respirators. Perhaps his imagination, Micah felt a burning in his lungs. Behind him Micah heard the commands again and a pair of meaty thumps. And again, and again. No doubt now, his eyes burned and his nose started itching. Someone sneezed and rubbed, calling down the wrath of a sergeant upon himself. Finally, thankfully, the lines were complete. The recruits marched past a simple gate and onto a drill field. Micah wanted to cry; the sign above the gate read 'Hell's Sewer.'