Dawn by Yoshiki Tanaka Page A

engineering—the boring subjects—he was perfectly happy getting grades that hovered just above failing.
    If he did fail, though, there was the danger of being expelled, and even if he weren’t expelled, the makeup tests would take up precious time. The point being that as long as he didn’t fail, it was okay. His goal was not to be the director of Joint Operational Headquarters, the secretary of the space srmada, or the superintendent general of staff. He wanted to be a researcher at the Military History Collation Office. He had practically no interest at all in advancement as a soldier.
    His grades in Military History were outstanding, and combined with his nap-of-the-earth marks in all the practical subjects, produced a total that was the very picture of “average.” However, Yang’s marks in Strategic Tactical Simulations weren’t bad at all. Grades in this class were determined by having the students face off against one another in VR simulations. The instructors were shocked one day when the class’s top student—a boy named Wideborn, who was touted as the most brilliant student the school had seen in the last decade—was soundly defeated by Yang Wen-li.
    Yang focused all of his forces on one point, cut his opponent’s supply lines, and then switched over to a purely defensive posture. Wideborn, using a variety of tactics, penetrated deep into Yang’s ranks, but when his supplies ran out, he had no choice but to retreat. Both the computer’s judgment and the instructor’s scoring awarded the victory to Yang.
    Wideborn, whose pride had been wounded, was furious. “I’d have won if he’d played it straight and fought me head-on. I mean, all he did was keep running back and forth to get away, right?”
    Yang didn’t argue. For him, this class was making up for his low marks in Mechanical Engineering, and with that, he was satisfied in full.
    That satisfaction, however, was to be short-lived.
    At the end of his second year, Yang was summoned by an instructor and ordered to switch his major to Military Strategy.
    “It’s not just you,” the instructor had said, trying to be consoling. “They’re doing away with the whole military history department, so every student there has to change majors. You beat that Wideborn fellow in the simulation. That’s an achievement. You should change departments anyway, just to make the most of your talents.”
    “I came to this school because I wanted to study military history,” Yang objected. “I don’t think it’s fair to recruit students and then scrap their department before they graduate.”
    “Cadet Yang, you may not be on active duty yet, but from the moment you entered this school, you became a soldier. This is how petty officers get treated. And as a soldier, you have to follow your orders.”
    Yang said nothing.
    “But listen, there’s no way this is a bad deal for you. Military Strategy is a department that’s packed with top-level students. Students who try to get into Strategy but don’t make it flow into other departments. That’s the reality here. It’s a rare thing for someone to flow the other way.”
    “I’m honored, sir, but … do I sound like a top-level student to you?”
    “Watch it with the sarcasm. Anyway, if you don’t like it, you’ve got the right to quit, naturally. Of course, if you do that, you’ll have to pay back all the tuition and school fees you’ve accrued thus far. Only soldiers get to study for free.”
    Yang was dumbstruck. He couldn’t help remembering what his late father had said about money. Truly, with people being people, you could never be free in this life.
    At age twenty, Yang graduated from the military strategy department with average grades and received his commission as an ensign. A year later, he was promoted to sublieutenant, but that was normal for graduates of the Officer’s Academy. It didn’t mean that his service record was particularly outstanding.
    He was assigned to an office at the