troops sensed a darkness in me, and most of them kept their distance over the following days. Even Della didn’t seem to know what to say to me. She wasn’t in my squad, but she was in the same platoon. She gave me sympathetic nods but no comforting touches. I could have used a few touches, but she’d never been the nurturing type.
Natasha was different. She seemed more concerned than ever about my well-being. Of the entire squad—whom I drilled for twelve hours out of every ship-board cycle of twenty-four—she alone kept trying to reach me on an emotional level. Unfortunately, she did this by scolding as often as not.
“James,” she said after we’d finished yet another obstacle run on Green Deck. “Don’t you think you’re working them too hard?”
“No.”
“But everyone in the squad is—”
“Listen,” I said, “I’m done with half-assing around during my training sessions. This squad has grown soft since we left Machine World. In my opinion, it started even before that—back when we began riding dragons instead of walking. Did you see how Centurion Belter’s crew could run up a mountain all day? In their full kit? That’s how we should look. We’re heavy infantry now, not saddled-up aristocrats with our butts high and dry inside a dragon.”
She nodded, pursing her lips. “You have a good point. We’re out of practice playing the part of infantry. But do you think Harris is a sloppy veteran?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“He’s not drilling his people to death, James. He’s doing no more than five hours of the physical stuff, and marksmanship for three more. That’s the norm, right?”
Despite my good feelings toward her, Natasha was now beginning to piss me off. After all, I outranked her—but this conflict ran deeper than rank. She’d always been something of a mother hen to me, and sometimes I think she still believed it was her job to play the part of my conscience.
“You’ve given me an idea,” I said. “Thanks, Specialist.”
“Um...my pleasure, Vet,” she said, her voice surprised and confused. I could tell she had no idea what I was planning.
I strode purposefully off Green Deck. I could feel her eyes on my back.
My first move was to okay the idea with Adjunct Leeson. He gave me a dirty chuckle when I described my proposal.
“That’s great , McGill!” he said. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Approved! Give ‘em hell!”
My plan was thus set into motion. I didn’t warn anyone about what was coming. Instead, just after lunch, I jogged my team up to Green Deck again. They groaned, but followed me gamely enough. They’d toughened up over the last few weeks.
Harris was there, as I knew he would be. He was using low-powered laser target rifles, having his troops nail moving targets. I marched up and stood behind him until he finished coaching a trooper on adjusting her sights.
“McGill?” he asked in surprise. “What do you want? We have this turf until 1400 hours. Get lost.”
“Can’t do that, Vet,” I said. “I’m here to issue a challenge.”
Frowning fiercely, Harris watched me remove a gauntlet and throw it on the ground at his feet. He put his hands on his hips instead of picking it up, however.
“What the hell…? Have you lost your mind, boy?”
“It’s approved, Vet,” I said. “Adjunct Leeson thinks it’s a great idea.”
“He would…” Harris broke off, and he couldn’t help but glance around himself. My squad, panting from their run, had come up behind me and stood with grim looks on their faces.
Harris’ own people had stopped shooting and were walking up to see what was going on. Everyone soon caught sight of the gauntlet on the ground, and they knew what that meant. Since ancient times, a challenge was a challenge. Harris couldn’t refuse to pick up the gauntlet unless he wanted to look like a coward.
He scooped up my gauntlet with an angry flourish and threw it into my chest. I caught it and slipped
Natasha was different. She seemed more concerned than ever about my well-being. Of the entire squad—whom I drilled for twelve hours out of every ship-board cycle of twenty-four—she alone kept trying to reach me on an emotional level. Unfortunately, she did this by scolding as often as not.
“James,” she said after we’d finished yet another obstacle run on Green Deck. “Don’t you think you’re working them too hard?”
“No.”
“But everyone in the squad is—”
“Listen,” I said, “I’m done with half-assing around during my training sessions. This squad has grown soft since we left Machine World. In my opinion, it started even before that—back when we began riding dragons instead of walking. Did you see how Centurion Belter’s crew could run up a mountain all day? In their full kit? That’s how we should look. We’re heavy infantry now, not saddled-up aristocrats with our butts high and dry inside a dragon.”
She nodded, pursing her lips. “You have a good point. We’re out of practice playing the part of infantry. But do you think Harris is a sloppy veteran?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“He’s not drilling his people to death, James. He’s doing no more than five hours of the physical stuff, and marksmanship for three more. That’s the norm, right?”
Despite my good feelings toward her, Natasha was now beginning to piss me off. After all, I outranked her—but this conflict ran deeper than rank. She’d always been something of a mother hen to me, and sometimes I think she still believed it was her job to play the part of my conscience.
“You’ve given me an idea,” I said. “Thanks, Specialist.”
“Um...my pleasure, Vet,” she said, her voice surprised and confused. I could tell she had no idea what I was planning.
I strode purposefully off Green Deck. I could feel her eyes on my back.
My first move was to okay the idea with Adjunct Leeson. He gave me a dirty chuckle when I described my proposal.
“That’s great , McGill!” he said. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Approved! Give ‘em hell!”
My plan was thus set into motion. I didn’t warn anyone about what was coming. Instead, just after lunch, I jogged my team up to Green Deck again. They groaned, but followed me gamely enough. They’d toughened up over the last few weeks.
Harris was there, as I knew he would be. He was using low-powered laser target rifles, having his troops nail moving targets. I marched up and stood behind him until he finished coaching a trooper on adjusting her sights.
“McGill?” he asked in surprise. “What do you want? We have this turf until 1400 hours. Get lost.”
“Can’t do that, Vet,” I said. “I’m here to issue a challenge.”
Frowning fiercely, Harris watched me remove a gauntlet and throw it on the ground at his feet. He put his hands on his hips instead of picking it up, however.
“What the hell…? Have you lost your mind, boy?”
“It’s approved, Vet,” I said. “Adjunct Leeson thinks it’s a great idea.”
“He would…” Harris broke off, and he couldn’t help but glance around himself. My squad, panting from their run, had come up behind me and stood with grim looks on their faces.
Harris’ own people had stopped shooting and were walking up to see what was going on. Everyone soon caught sight of the gauntlet on the ground, and they knew what that meant. Since ancient times, a challenge was a challenge. Harris couldn’t refuse to pick up the gauntlet unless he wanted to look like a coward.
He scooped up my gauntlet with an angry flourish and threw it into my chest. I caught it and slipped
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