The Ninth (26 page)

It was easily as large as the forest of the stealth exam had been.  The massive room was filled by dozens of troopers.  Some were sparring or training diligently, but they were in the minority.  Most were relaxing and chatting with friends.  Brent even recognized a few 3Ps.  A slight shudder raced down his spine at the memories of the last exam flashed back for a moment.  He entered the massive room but kept near the doorway.  He hoped he could make it to a bed before anyone realized who he was.

There were five arches on the opposite wall.  Brent could make out bunks lining the walls down the hallways beyond the archways.  The bunks looked awfully inviting; years of shunning sleep made his first desire for it all the more powerful.  He quickly scanned the room looking for those in charge.  If anyone knew where he was sleeping, it would have to be the division leader.  It took him a while to study all the troopers, but eventually he found the trooper with the gold emblem of a division leader.  He was standing with his back turned toward Brent in a group near the corner of the room on the right.  They were having a heated discussion.  As he approached, Brent noticed the others had silver emblems.

“Not one lousy recruit.”  He recognized Humphrey’s mumble.  “We are doomed.  The other divisions are going to walk all over us on the next trial – again.”

“This is all your fault!”  That voice belonged to Rhea, the girl who bugged Humphrey back in Medical.

“
My
fault?  How exactly do you figure that?”  Humphrey’s voice never reached the volume of normal speech, even when he was shouting angrily.

“Obviously, your petty nature and freaky mumbling scared off the recruits you were leading around!”  Rhea’s voice however shouted quite loudly.

“Right, and what about you?”

“What about me?”

“I guess the reason none of the recruits
you
showed around joined up with us is because they felt they weren’t good enough to join
your
division?”

“Now calm down, you two,” an unfamiliar male voice commented.  “The divisions in our grade rarely get new recruits.  We are all equally matched and stand just as much chance as anyone of passing the trial.”

“Equally matched?” Humphrey mumbled sourly.  “Pardon me while I do a merry jig,”

“Lay off Sanderson,” Rhea scolded Humphrey.  “He’s just trying to look on the bright side,”

“Just remember, the light in the dark of space is usually an enemy ship jumping in,” Humphrey pouted.

“Always a ray of sunshine aren’t you?” a second male voice joked.

“Don’t you start with me, Greg,” Humphrey hissed.  “I’m not in the mood.”

“That’s enough out of all of you!”  Brent recognized the voice as Leonard, the leader of the FF.  “We didn’t honestly expect to get any new recruits from the start.  We never do, and most likely
never
will.  The FF is made up of the rejects from every other division on the station.  We don’t get people on the way in; we get them on the way out.”

“Excuse me,” Brent interrupted.  “Never is an absolute.  Nothing in this life is absolute.”

The entire group went silent.  Each one turned to face Brent, eyeing the person who had rudely interrupted them.  Just like those he had passed in the hallway, he watched as their eyes widened with the realization of who he was.

“You lost or something?” Leonard groused.  “Need me to point you in the direction of the division that snatched you up?  Or maybe your division leader sent you here to gloat, rub my nose in it.”

“Not lost.  I’d rather you point me to my bunk.  And why would
you
want me to rub
your
nose in it?”  Brent quickly answered all the rhetorical questions.

“Ha!  In your face Rhea!”  Humphrey actually broke out in an odd victory dance.  “Look who likes my petty nature and freaky mumble!”

“Am I dreaming?” Rhea asked aloud.

“If Humphrey is dancing, I’d call it a nightmare.”  Greg chuckled.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Leonard asked Brent.

“Judge for yourself.”  Brent tossed his pad to the awestruck division leader.

“So?” Rhea asked anxiously.

“If you are dreaming, don’t you
dare
wake up.  He’s ours.”  Leonard sounded as if he still didn’t believe it.

“So, who gets him?” Rhea pressed.

“Oh, don’t you dare!” Humphrey hissed.  “You have
no
claim on him.”

“None of us do,” Sanderson asserted.  “I don’t remember you saying he asked you to join us, Humphrey.”

“Sanderson has a point.”  Leonard rubbed his temples.  “The pad says he was officially assigned; no one has a claim on him.”

“So, how do we figure out which squad gets him?”  Greg scratched his head.

“Any squads
need
another trooper?”  Leonard ventured.

“Not at the minute.  After the last set of trials we filled out the ranks,” Greg answered.

“Well, we can’t cut him into five pieces,” Rhea grumbled.  “Someone has to get him.”

“And if I make the decision, the other four of you will hound me over it.”  Leonard crossed his arms.  “No thanks.”

“So, how do we decide then?  Rock, paper, scissors?”  Humphrey chuckled to himself.

“How about a vote?”  Sanderson ventured.

“A vote?”  Rhea asked skeptically.

“Sure.  We each vote on which squad gets him,” Sanderson explained.

“And when we each vote for ourselves, then what,
genius
?”  Rhea rolled her eyes.

“Well, if that happens, then Brent will cast the deciding vote himself.  Sound fair?”  Sanderson directed at Rhea.

The squad leaders looked at each other, and, in turn, they all nodded, accepting the idea.

“I say he joins up with me; after all I did show him around,” Humphrey mumbled with a shrug.

“Naturally, he’ll want to join me,” Rhea said arrogantly.  “He is a smart one, and I’m sure he can see my grace and potential.”

“I suppose I’ll take him,” Greg said.  “Be nice to have at least one competent trooper on the squad.”

“I cast my vote for Kindra.”  Sanderson’s voice was firm and final.

“Wait, you can’t do that!”  Rhea instantly protested.

“Ha!  Sanderson fooled us all.”  Humphrey smiled warmly, but the expression didn’t sit well on his face.  “Rhea naturally assumed we’d all vote for ourselves, and, once she pointed that out, we all agreed.  You planned to get him into Kindra’s squad from the start, didn’t you?”  Humphrey nudged Sanderson.

“Well, that settles that then.”  Leonard chuckled.

Brent quickly glanced around.  Leaning against the wall was a trooper he hadn’t noticed.  Partially hidden behind long black hair, he could make out a shocked expression staring back at him.  The trooper had a silver emblem on their shoulder like the others, but hadn’t said a word.

“Now hold on; I never cast my vote.”  Her voice reminded Brent of the voluptuous instructor Davis had replaced.

The voice didn’t match her frame.  She was skinny as a rail devoid of the curves expected in the female frame.  It wasn’t that she was unattractive, but it would be a stretch to characterize any element of her appearance as feminine.  Even her dark skin lacked the soft quality usually assigned to her gender.  If not for the voice it would be all too easy to mistake her for a male in dire need of a haircut.

“A formality.”  Leonard smiled.  “Your vote brings it to two in your favor.  He is yours.  Plus, I like it like this.  Humphrey seems to enjoy the idea, Greg doesn’t seem to care, and Rhea can sharpen her claws on Sanderson for outsmarting her.”

“But . . .,” Kindra protested futilely.

Brent took a step toward his new squad leader and tried to bow as gracefully as the tripod had during the last exam.  Lowering his head and crossing his arms felt oddly comfortable.

“I look forward to serving under you.”  He wanted to settle the matter so he could finally get some sleep.

Kindra blushed a little.  The other squad leaders raised their eyebrows.

“Never seen that before,” Humphrey mumbled.

“Just what is he doing?”  Sanderson tilted his head.

“I think it’s some kind of bow.”  Rhea ventured a guess.  “Maybe he does come from a rim world after all.”

“Pardon me, but it has been a long day, and I’m very tired,” Brent said, mildly embarrassed.  “Would you mind showing me which bunk is mine?”

Kindra nodded in resignation and started walking toward the center archway.  Brent followed at a respectable distance.  He could hear the leaders of the FF talking among themselves behind him.  Unlike the troopers in the hallways of the academy, the troopers in the massive common room paid no attention to the newcomer; there were no wide eyed stares, no giggling, nothing.  He gathered from Leonard’s rant that the division must be used to new faces.  If this was the dumping ground for the other divisions, it was likely that the roster changed after each trial – whatever that was.

As they neared the archway, Brent could make out troopers relaxing in their bunks, some reading while others stared blankly at the ceiling with a 3P at their side.  There were ten bunks on the left wall, each one nestled in open alcoves.  On the right wall were nine similar bunks and one closed door.  Brent imagined having a private room was a privilege of Kindra’s rank.  She stopped beside the doorway.

“Behind this door are my quarters.”  Kindra seemed much more comfortable here than she had been out with the other leaders.  “If you enter without my permission, the academy had better be on fire or worse.  Hey, Bernard, we got a free bunk?”

A trooper directly across from Kindra grumpily stirred.  He rubbed his eyes as he turned.

“Free bunk?  Nah, all full up since the last trial.”  He sounded half dead.

Content that he had fulfilled his task, the trooper rolled back over.  Abruptly he stirred and talked over his shoulder.

“Hold on, Rolando washed out last week.  Bunk nine should be free.”  Bernard went back to sleep.

“Well, there you go,” Kindra said politely.  “Sleep well.  Oh, and one more thing.  Knock off the bowing.  We are not exactly big on formalities down here.  I don’t know what fancy ceremonies you are used to, but you won’t find them around here.”  She nodded politely to him as she entered her quarters.

Brent made his way down the rows of bunks.  They were nestled into large square alcoves in the wall.  A bunk rested on one side of the alcove, and a metal locker hugged the opposing side.  As he passed other troopers, he spotted a few open lockers.  Most contained a few uniforms hung less than neatly.  The uniforms were all the green and orange of the FF, his new home.  He noticed there was something behind the sloppily hung clothes.  None of the lockers were in a tidy enough state for him to get a clear look at whatever it was, but the bright white thing had the appearance of a great big marshmallow.

Finally, he found the alcove with a nine above it.  Unlike every other bunk, his was perfectly made and the locker had a clean sheen.  Brent was about to make use of his bunk when a hand slapped his back with unexpected force that sent him stumbling a few steps, tripping, and gracelessly landing on a combination of his chin and pride.

“Sorry about that,” came a deep voice from behind him.  “You looked a bit more hearty from behind.  Didn’t expect to send you tumbling.”

Brent rolled around onto his back and found an outstretched hand waiting to help him up.  He followed the arm and found it attached to a short, plump body that failed to match the deepness of the voice.  Brent realized he’d seen the trooper before.  His name was Cain.  He had been the one to walk over the table and his lunch.

“Plan to sleep there?” the deep voice asked, with a hint of playfulness  “It’s fine by me, but I might trip over you in the morning and I doubt you’d enjoy being crushed as a wake up call.”

“At this point I’d probably sleep through even that,” Brent said as he grabbed the outstretched arm.  “It’s been one of those days.”

As Cain helped him up, Brent noticed his eyes widened.  He had just realized whom he was helping up.

“Wait a minute, aren’t you . . .”  Cain’s voice trailed off.

“Brent.  Pleased to meet you.”  He waited for it to sink in.

“From recruit group C? 
That
Brent?”

“Unless I have a double . . . well
another
double, that would be me.”

“What are you doing
here
?”

“Attempting to get some rest; that’s what one normally does in their bunk at night, I trust.”

“Wait, you have a bunk here?  That means . . .”

“I’m a part of the FF.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Cain stared at Brent for a few moments then broke into thunderous laughter.

“Welcome to the FF!”  Cain smiled warmly as his voice took on the quality of a salesman.  “After your performance today I figured you’d be adopted by a grade so far up I’d never see you again.”