you.”
Back at you, Tom thought, but then a tingling sensation shot up his neck, and the Calisthenics simulation cranked to life in his vision center. The Japanese army charged toward Tom in the simulated, World War II–era China, and Tom threw himself into the workout. But however fast he ran, he couldn’t escape his lingering fury at the man who’d nearly ripped his mind apart.
He imagined every single fake enemy wearing Blackburn’s face.
CHAPTER FOUR
T OM CHEERED UP a bit when he arrived in the mess hall, because there was meat loaf for lunch and his friend Yuri Sysevich was waiting at a table. He was still a plebe, since he hadn’t been promoted with the three of them. They mostly avoided talk about Middle Company so they wouldn’t rub it in too much. As it turned out, Yuri had had a far more interesting vacation than they had, anyway. He’d signed up for a relaxing wilderness survival excursion, led by a former Green Beret, where he’d eaten bugs and climbed mountains and fended off wild animals.
“It is remarkable, truly remarkable, how many edible bugs there are to sustain you in the wilderness!”
“How many did you eat?” Tom wondered.
“Five different insects,” Yuri answered proudly.
“Ew,” Wyatt said, rubbing the spot on her head where he’d kissed her in greeting.
“Yeah, don’t elaborate,” Vik urged him, shoveling rice into his mouth.
“Were the bugs you ate like beetles or more like those ricelike mealworm things?” Tom said, watching Vik. Vik had the weakest stomach Tom knew, and it amused him endlessly.
Wyatt caught on to what Tom was doing. “Ooh, you mean the maggoty bugs from festering wounds that start like rice and sprout into full-blown intestinal parasites?”
Vik shook his head. “This won’t work, guys. I know you’re just making stuff up.”
“No, the insects I consumed bore no resemblance to rice,” Yuri answered seriously. “You are thinking of those parasites that grow in rice. They have very gooey, putrid innards, and they are slightly off-white, like the contents of Vikram’s plate right now.”
Vik finally tossed down his fork. “I’m done with lunch because I’m full. That’s why. I’m not stopping because of you three. You have not won this.”
Tom, Wyatt, and Yuri cackled, because they didn’t believe him.
I T TURNED OUT Tom and Vik were in the same simulation group, led by blond-haired, round-faced Combatant Snowden Gainey. Tom pulled up his profile from memory.
NAME: Snowden Gainey
RANK: USIF, Grade VI, Camelot Company, Napoleon Division
CALL SIGN: NewGuy
ORIGIN: North Westchester, Connecticut
ACHIEVEMENTS: Junior world squash champion, member of the Future Financial Innovators of America Society
IP: 2053:db7:lj71::224:ll3:6e8
SECURITY STATUS: Top Secret LANDLOCK-6
Within minutes, Tom realized that Snowden had a totally different leadership style than his previous simulation group leader, Elliot Ramirez.
Elliot had always waited at the edge of one of the cots, visibly a part of the group, yet he’d also greeted them as they came in, which reminded everyone who was the boss. Snowden sort of hung out in the back corner, dread glimmering over his pale features as the number of trainees sitting on the cots with EKG monitors grew and grew. Only once everyone was there did he finally perch himself on a cot.
“Well, as you newbies have probably heard,” Snowden ventured meekly, “Applied Scrimmages as a Middle involves scenarios similar to the ones you faced as plebes, but instead of facing simulated opponents, we directly face other groups of Middles, and we rotate every week. Today we’re fighting Yosef Saide’s group. So, do you guys want to start?” It was posed like a question, like he needed their permission.
Everyone dropped back to sprawl across their cots, and Tom twisted his head to the side to exchange an excited grin with Vik. “Got your back, Doctor.”
“You, too, Doctor.” Vik’s eyes gleamed
Back at you, Tom thought, but then a tingling sensation shot up his neck, and the Calisthenics simulation cranked to life in his vision center. The Japanese army charged toward Tom in the simulated, World War II–era China, and Tom threw himself into the workout. But however fast he ran, he couldn’t escape his lingering fury at the man who’d nearly ripped his mind apart.
He imagined every single fake enemy wearing Blackburn’s face.
CHAPTER FOUR
T OM CHEERED UP a bit when he arrived in the mess hall, because there was meat loaf for lunch and his friend Yuri Sysevich was waiting at a table. He was still a plebe, since he hadn’t been promoted with the three of them. They mostly avoided talk about Middle Company so they wouldn’t rub it in too much. As it turned out, Yuri had had a far more interesting vacation than they had, anyway. He’d signed up for a relaxing wilderness survival excursion, led by a former Green Beret, where he’d eaten bugs and climbed mountains and fended off wild animals.
“It is remarkable, truly remarkable, how many edible bugs there are to sustain you in the wilderness!”
“How many did you eat?” Tom wondered.
“Five different insects,” Yuri answered proudly.
“Ew,” Wyatt said, rubbing the spot on her head where he’d kissed her in greeting.
“Yeah, don’t elaborate,” Vik urged him, shoveling rice into his mouth.
“Were the bugs you ate like beetles or more like those ricelike mealworm things?” Tom said, watching Vik. Vik had the weakest stomach Tom knew, and it amused him endlessly.
Wyatt caught on to what Tom was doing. “Ooh, you mean the maggoty bugs from festering wounds that start like rice and sprout into full-blown intestinal parasites?”
Vik shook his head. “This won’t work, guys. I know you’re just making stuff up.”
“No, the insects I consumed bore no resemblance to rice,” Yuri answered seriously. “You are thinking of those parasites that grow in rice. They have very gooey, putrid innards, and they are slightly off-white, like the contents of Vikram’s plate right now.”
Vik finally tossed down his fork. “I’m done with lunch because I’m full. That’s why. I’m not stopping because of you three. You have not won this.”
Tom, Wyatt, and Yuri cackled, because they didn’t believe him.
I T TURNED OUT Tom and Vik were in the same simulation group, led by blond-haired, round-faced Combatant Snowden Gainey. Tom pulled up his profile from memory.
NAME: Snowden Gainey
RANK: USIF, Grade VI, Camelot Company, Napoleon Division
CALL SIGN: NewGuy
ORIGIN: North Westchester, Connecticut
ACHIEVEMENTS: Junior world squash champion, member of the Future Financial Innovators of America Society
IP: 2053:db7:lj71::224:ll3:6e8
SECURITY STATUS: Top Secret LANDLOCK-6
Within minutes, Tom realized that Snowden had a totally different leadership style than his previous simulation group leader, Elliot Ramirez.
Elliot had always waited at the edge of one of the cots, visibly a part of the group, yet he’d also greeted them as they came in, which reminded everyone who was the boss. Snowden sort of hung out in the back corner, dread glimmering over his pale features as the number of trainees sitting on the cots with EKG monitors grew and grew. Only once everyone was there did he finally perch himself on a cot.
“Well, as you newbies have probably heard,” Snowden ventured meekly, “Applied Scrimmages as a Middle involves scenarios similar to the ones you faced as plebes, but instead of facing simulated opponents, we directly face other groups of Middles, and we rotate every week. Today we’re fighting Yosef Saide’s group. So, do you guys want to start?” It was posed like a question, like he needed their permission.
Everyone dropped back to sprawl across their cots, and Tom twisted his head to the side to exchange an excited grin with Vik. “Got your back, Doctor.”
“You, too, Doctor.” Vik’s eyes gleamed
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