of a half-man target to a series of
circles with a small black one in the middle.
"The
object is to hit the small black circle in the middle. Think of it as a tent at
an amusement park. If you can hit it, you win a prize," he said, smiling.
I had never
been to an amusement park, but I knew what he meant and appreciated his attempt
to take my mind off the real intent—killing. I preferred to think about
it as protecting those I loved more than life.
"Thanks.
I'm ready," I said. He then demonstrated the correct stance and posture
and finally shot the laser he was holding. The target was only twenty meters
away, and I could see he hit the bull’s-eye. When he nodded, I steadied myself,
assumed the posture he had shown me, aimed, and pulled the trigger. I hit the corner
of the target, high on the left. We both laughed.
"No
fuzzy doll for that shot." The Master Chief was a good patient instructor,
and by the end of the school year, I could hit within the circles consistently
and the bull’s-eye now and then with the laser. We arranged to continue again
next year. Red didn't seem interested in weapons.
CHAPTER FIVE
Intriguing patterns
The second
year flew by, a wonderful year I hated to see end. I was no longer a phenomenon.
Only the freshmen turned to look at me as I wandered the campus and attended
courses. I loved each and every class and scored at the top of each. Master Chief
Ransom had patiently managed to qualify me in each of the four weapons he
considered necessary. I had successfully deluded myself into thinking that
learning how to put an object into the center of a target was just another
academic course. Ransom did insist I continue to qualify each year. For Alexa's
sake, I agreed.
The third
year went smoothly as a repeat of my second year. I even made a few friends.
Cadets Linsey Braswell and Bradon Morley both had at one time or another sought
me out and questioned me about a problem he or she was having. They were both
at the top of their classes and either weren't intimidated or felt it more
important to maintain their grades. So, in our third year we began eating lunch
and taking breaks together.
"I can't
imagine having a snake on me," Linsey said with a genuine shudder. Bradon
laughed.
"It sure
wouldn't help to attract the girls." Bradon was a professional flirt
according to Linsey. He was tall with curly dark-brown hair, an athletic build,
and a handsome clean-shaven face. Linsey on the other hand was several
centimeters shorter than average with a plain-looking round face, but her red
hair and shapely figure made her popular with the boys. She was a gentle girl,
and I wondered how she would like the navy.
"I've
had no choice, like being born with six fingers or maybe three eyes. Actually,
that's not a good example. You can have the extra finger or eye
removed—"
"Ack,"
Linsey said, her face screwed up in disgust.
"Red
keeps me alive. Without him, the Coaca Virus would return and I'd die within
days."
"You
could survive. Some people do," Bradon said.
"Less
than one in a hundred. I was in very bad condition when Red magically
arrived." It had been magical the way he showed up: winter, snow on the ground, in daylight. And strange that
Red hadn’t stayed with the man who attacked me at the Bordans, since he had the
virus. Strange that he didn’t bite Alexa, who now thought nothing of hugging me
or giving me a kiss on the cheek or holding my hand. Strange that I could feel
people's emotions. Strange the interest he took in my studies. Strange that I'd
want him to stay even if his leaving wouldn't kill me. "I never liked
snakes either, Linsey. But Red has become like an arm or leg. You don't think
about it; it's just there and useful."
"If you
say so." Linsey laughed. "I guess if I caught the virus and someone
offered me a krait to save my life I'd jump at it."
*
* *
One day
midway through the second semester, I was approached by a navy commander as I walked
out of my navigational
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