War and Money Page 3

  Chapter Four

  I can’t catch my breath and have to lean against the building so I don’t fall. The hot damp air is thick and sticks to my lungs, and my face is dripping wet. I’m to die in one of the absurd, endless wars against beings I’ll never get to know or understand.

  The blaring sun is miserable and I’m too uncomfortable to stay outside any longer. My feet won’t cooperate and I end up shuffling across the camp to my dormitory. My shirt is soaked through with sweat and tears. I’m sure this’ll get me yelled at or disciplined. Does it matter? Do I really care?

  I step into the air-conditioned dormitory and see Tablon’s still there. I can’t stand the thought of talking to him, so instead of telling him Viteri wants to see him, I walk down the aisle to my bunk. For whatever reason, nobody speaks to me, not even Tablon who’s marching around glaring at everyone. Why doesn’t he go to his own dorm and leave us alone? I lie down and stare up at the ceiling, listening to Nikko mumbling something to his other bunkmate, but I don’t care enough about either of them to try to listen.

  I’m not sure how much time passes before Viteri storms in and thunders for Tablon to stand at attention. “I will not tolerate a senior lead disobeying my orders! Are you learning bad habits from Orwan?”

  Tablon snaps a salute. “What orders, sir?”

  Viteri is red-faced. “To report to my office! Orwan was to tell you.”

  Now they both stare in my direction. In one smooth movement, I spring from my bed and salute. “I told him when I returned to the dormitory, sir.”

  “You liar! You didn’t say a thing to me, smudge!” Tablon roars.

  “Yes, Commander, I did. I passed him and told him, then went directly to my bunk, sir.” I continue to hold the salute, but it’s really hard not to smile.

  Viteri glares at me. “At attention, recruit.” He turns to Tablon. “Did you think it was unimportant because it came from Orwan? If I give an order, no matter who delivers it, it’s to be obeyed!”

  Tablon is pale. He looks at a girl next to him. “Did you hear her?”

  The girl stands up, salutes, shakes her head and motions to her bunkmate. “I was discussing strategy with Mayon. I wasn’t paying attention to anyone else.”

  Viteri gets face-to-face with Tablon. “My office. You’re a senior lead, act like one.” He spins on his heels and strides away.

  Tablon is obviously shaken. He straightens his uniform, points directly at me and threatens, “You’re dead, smudge. I’ll make you pay for this.”

  I give him a salute and stare straight ahead, not at him. “Yes, sir.” My lips curl up ever-so-slighty, even though I’m fighting it.

  After Tablon stomps all the way out of the dormitory, I sit, well aware that everyone is staring at me. This is the only good thing that’s happened to me since I left home and I plan to cling to it and replay it in my mind many, many times.

  With Tablon gone, there’s mumbling and chatting among the recruits and I hear my name and smudge a couple of times. Thankfully nobody bothers me. After a while, the talking dies down and I’m left wondering what we’re supposed to do. There’s nothing in the dormitory, no books or computers. The only distraction from the boredom is to count the mismatched tiles that make up the ceiling, and imagine ways that Tablon could get disciplined. I get to five hundred and thirty tiles by the time he returns and orders us to gather outside. He’s angry judging by the scowl set on his face and I hope that means he was disciplined.

  Everyone moves into the aisle, single-file, making me last, and trudges out. Tablon is waiting by the door and shoves me out, hard, and I fall face first onto the dirt in front of the dormitory. As fast as I can, I scramble to my feet and hurry to join up with the other recruits. When Viteri comes out of his office, we all salute and Tablon stands in front of us, like we belong to him. My hatred for him is getting stronger.

  Viteri, holding an open metal box, strolls down the row of recruits, passes me and slows, but doesn’t stop. He continues down the line and finally stops at Tablon and Lenora, takes two swatches of fabric from the box and presses one patch on the left shoulder of Tablon’s shirt and the other onto Lenora’s shoulder. They stick like they’re sewn on. Tablon’s patch is blue with SLS in white. Viteri announces that SLS stands for Senior Lead Soldier. Lenora’s patch is light blue with LS in dark blue; LS means Lead Soldier. The rest of the recruits get patches with various initials; PS for Pilot Squadron, SC for Strategic Command and IC for Intelligence Control. Nikko has a PS. Why was he chosen to be a pilot? I could be a pilot if someone would teach me. Everyone has a patch except for me. What’s left? Viteri whispers to Tablon and hands him a patch. Without a word, Tablon slaps the patch onto my shoulder harder than he had to. It’s a pale green rectangle with the letters AFGF in bold red print. Tablon steps back and Viteri comes to me.

  He’s smirking. “AFGF. Anti-foe Ground Forces. Bottom of the barrel. The loser squadron.”

  He goes and stands beside Tablon again, directly in front of us and clears his throat. “Recruits, find your new dormitories and introduce yourselves to the RIC of your squadron.”

  I glance at the other recruits and a few are nodding like they know what RIC stands for. Tablon steps forward to seize the opportunity to assert his official status on those of us who know nothing.

  He clears his throat just like Viteri did, and receives a nod of approval. “Your RIC is the Recruit in Charge of your squad.” He steps back with his chin jutting out.

  Viteri gives one sharp nod to Tablon. “Thank you, Senior Lead Neemiss. Recruits, dismissed!”

  Tablon follows Viteri into his office and the recruits separate and scatter in all directions looking for their new housing, but I stay where I am. The dormitories don’t have any signs on them, so rather than wander into the various dormitories and get screamed at, I’ll just stand in the middle of camp and wait until everyone vanishes into one of the units.

  Most get it wrong on the first try and rush back out. The only one nobody goes in is the most run-down and shabby dorm in the whole camp. Process of elimination. That has to be mine.

  Alone in the middle of camp, I’ll take the opportunity to enjoy the solitude and peace, although after a short time, the heat’s too much. Hopefully my dormitory has air conditioning. I push the door and it creaks. From what I see, it’s not too different from the first dormitory I was in, except it’s a bit worse, with the floor boards worn with jagged splinters poking out. The bunks look really old, too. For a moment, I stand in the doorway and observe. The recruits are all sitting in a circle on the floor, but stop and stare at me. They have the same patch as me. I point to my shoulder and they go back to what they’re doing, playing some sort of game. One girl stands and smiles at me. She’s small and skinny.

  “Hi. You’re an AFGF?”

  “Yes. I’m Dax. I was just sent here.”

  She continues, “Hi, Dax. I’m Viga. You’re tall and, ah, strong-looking. We never get many recruits in this squad, especially not anyone who looks like you.” She comes to me and motions to the other recruits. “That’s Kova, Mick, Brinna, Parna and Big Pig.”

  I give them all a nod. “Hi. So there are only the seven of us?”

  Viga shrugs. “Now there are. Four just graduated and were sent to the front lines. Parna’s been here almost two weeks, so she goes next, then Mick. I’m the newest, here for another twelve days. We get the worst recruits every once in a while. Oh, no offense, but we’re the rejects.” She shrugs again and sits.

  I’m not sure what to say. “I don’t think any of you are rejects.”

  The boy named Big Pig laughs. His round belly jiggles. “Yeah, we are. I’m fat and stupid, that’s why I couldn’t be assigned a career and ended up here. I have three brothers and four sisters. They’re all smart. I’m the oldest and the only worthless kid in my family. My Da couldn’t wait to send me away. Laser fodder is what he said I am.”

  I’m so shocked at what I hear. How can any kid say things like that about himse
lf? And how could his Da tell him that he’s “laser fodder”? Big Pig looks like any other kid and I bet if he had training, he’d be just as good as any soldier. “What’s your real name? It can’t be Big Pig.”

  He looks down at the ground and wrings his hands. “It’s Briett. But I’ve been Big Pig for as long as I can remember. It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

  “Well, I’ll call you Briett if that’s all right.” I come all the way into the dormitory. “I’m supposed to introduce myself to the RIC.”

  Viga raises her hand. “That’s me. We appoint a different RIC each day so we all get a chance. You can be it tomorrow if you want.”

  “I don’t think so.” I sit on the floor when they make a space for me between Briett and Kova. Kova is a cute girl with long brown hair and a few freckles over her nose. She’s also very small and scrawny. In fact, the only big kid is Briett. “So, what are we supposed to do?”

  Briett looks up and flashes a smile. “They leave us alone, so we get to play games until it’s time for weapons training. We only train for a couple hours a day. I stink at shooting. My Da’s right, I’m laser fodder. I won’t last a day on the front lines.” He’s still smiling.

  “And you’re okay with that?” I look around at the faces staring at me like I said something wrong.

  With a heavy shrug, Briett sighs. “Don’t have a choice, Dax. I knew from when I was a little boy that I’d never see sixteen, so I made the best of it and ate everything that tasted good! No reason not to. Had to steal some because my parents ration out the food. But I’m good at stealing. I didn’t even pass my exit exams at school. My Da said he’ll use my advancement bonus money for the early-pay marriage fee for my fourteen-year-old sister so she doesn’t have to be advanced or assigned. When she’s eighteen, she’ll marry one of our outlier’s teachers and have a heap of kids. So, that’s good I guess, huh?”

  I’m speechless. I can’t think of a single response to what he said. How could any parent treat a child like that? Ma and Da love me. Then again, if they had other kids, would things be different?

  Not a single AFGF recruit appears upset about Briett’s acceptance of his fate, or maybe they all feel the same way about themselves as well. Maybe it’s me who’s weird for thinking this is all so wrong, after all, I am a “non-conformist”. Viga hands me a small clay cube with a series of lines on each side.

  She gives Briett a pat on the back and gets up. “Big Pig, can you teach Dax how to play? I have to go to the toilet.”

  He nods and perks up. “Sure!”

  I watch Viga to see where the toilet is. She goes to the end of the dormitory and vanishes behind a curtain. I nudge Briett. “We don’t have an actual bathroom with doors?”

  “Us? Of course not.” He laughs. “There’s a toilet behind the curtain and we get to use the communal shower outside.”

  “Communal shower?” I don’t like the sound of that. It was horrifying when Tablon stripped me in front of everyone and the thought of repeating the experience makes me sick to my stomach.

  Briett looks at me strangely. “It’s not really a communal shower, that’s just what we call it. It’s a water hose. I use it at night so nobody sees me. Nobody wants to see my naked fat ass.” He chuckles.

  I look at the little clay cube in my hand as my mind spins in a thousand different directions. Here I am, in a broken-down dormitory with a toilet at one end, a hose outside, and a bunch of kids who are ready for death. What would Ma and Da say if they knew where I’d ended up? Will they ever know?

  Briett nudges me. “It’s called War and Money.”

  I’m brought back to reality. “What is?”

  “The game.” Briett points to the clay cube. “You have to roll the cube. If one line is face up, you get assigned a bad job and die poor. You’re out. But if you get a two, four or six, you get advanced and you roll again.”

  “What happens if you get a three or five?” I ask, not fully understanding why they want to play a game that’s too much like real life.

  Briett takes the cube and turns it around several times. “Ah, I forget. I’m dumb.”

  Kova groans. “A three or five are lucky numbers. You get to be a pilot for a three and a Lead for a five. You don’t roll a second time for a three or five, but when it’s your turn again, the numbers are all different. A one means you get an advancement bonus, a two means you get two bonuses and a four means your family gets subsidies for the rest of their lives. A six, now that’s what you want to get. A six gets you fame as a Foe Buster.”

  And I thought my head was spinning before. “What’s a Foe Buster?”

  With a grin, Kova nudges Briett. “You know this, Big Pig.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Briett smiles. “A Foe Buster means you win the game because you killed all of the aliens and you’re a hero.”

  I drop the cube on the ground. “I don’t want to play a game like that.”

  “Come on, Dax,” Briett pleads. “Maybe you’ll win.”

  None of us will win. Doesn’t he understand that? A stupid game isn’t going to change that. I get up and find a bunk that evidently hasn’t been claimed. There’s a thin blanket folded on top of the old mattress with an almost-flat pillow lying on top. I spread out the blanket, do my best to fluff the pillow, lie down and close my eyes, hoping to shut out everything around me.

  A moment later, I hear Viga beside me. “Dax, what’s wrong?” She squeezes onto my bunk, forcing us both to teeter on the edges. “You don’t like War and Money?”

  I open my eyes and shake my head. “No, I don’t.” I sit up. “Viga, it seems like everyone, including all of you, are ready to march into war and die. That’s sick.”

  She looks at me as if she can’t make sense of what I said. “It’s just the way it is, Dax. Some people are born leaders or fighter ship pilots and some of us are born to protect them. We protect them for as long as we can. That’s honorable, not sick. And look at us. We’re the dregs of society and couldn’t get a decent job in our outliers anyway. This is best because we get to protect the important soldiers. I feel like my life’s worth something if I can save someone else.”

  “Come on, do you honestly believe we can protect anyone with only two hours of weapons training a day? I’ve never held a gun, ever. I have two weeks, two hours a day to learn how to shoot. I can’t do it.”

  “You don’t know that until you try. Kova and I have trouble holding the guns because they’re so big and heavy, but the boys are doing all right.” She lowers her voice to a whisper, “Well, except for Big Pig. He’s awful. The instructor said he can put down cover fire since he doesn’t have to be good for that. He just has to shoot in the general direction.”

  I flop back down and close my eyes again. “Don’t you want to grow up to be somebody, have a career where you can do something you enjoy? Live each day without the fear of dying from an alien’s weapon?”

  “I guess I never thought of it. My parents advance us all. I have three younger brothers and my Ma’s pregnant right now with another boy. I had four older brothers, but only one of them has survived so far. He’s sixteen and on the lunar surface fighting the Katarga, I think. He was always kind of sickly growing up, but now he’s beaten the odds. I’m hoping I’ll see him on the moon and maybe we can team up and…”

  I turn my head and look at Viga. “Hold on. Your parents are told where he is and what he’s doing?” Maybe there’s some hope that if Ma and Da know what’s going on, they’ll bring me back home.

  Viga puts her hand on my arm. “Well, no. But the subsidy keeps coming, so that means he’s still alive. And his name wasn’t on the last death roster I saw in our outlier. I like to think he’s on the moon so I can look up at it and imagine he’s there looking down at me. You know, they always send the skinny or sickly kids to the moon. As soon as someone dies, the subsidy’s cut off and we’re notified. The government doesn’t waste any time either. If you die before the month is out, your parents will lose the whole month’s subsidy. That
’s why it’s best to try to stay alive until the very beginning of the month. Does that make sense?”

  I give a half-hearted nod. “How can they do that? If we serve for every day except the last day of the month, the government takes the entire month’s subsidy away from our parents? That’s ridiculous. My parents need it all.”

  She shrugs. “Everyone needs it all. Without the child subsidies, nobody can make it on only a salary. Except for the rich people. That’s why my parents keep having kids. Unless she pays the marriage fee for one of my brothers or sisters, our family will die out. But Ma’s almost forty-four. It took her nine rounds of fertility treatments to get pregnant this last time. And those treatments don’t come cheap. She gets a state-sponsored discount from Global Command, but even with the discount, the treatments cost a lot. With the discount, she had to advance the child or pay the marriage fee, but we never seem to have the money for the marriage fee.”

  “My ma refused to use the free treatments because she didn’t want to be forced to advance her children. But, here I am.”

  “It’s a hard decision, Dax. My ma’s going to start accepting the free treatments so she’ll save a bit of money and maybe one day have enough for a marriage fee. She’ll have to advance the child, but if she can save enough, one day maybe she can have one child get married.” She sighs. “Have you ever thought how it seems like Global Command handles just about everything? They make life so hard. Ma doesn’t want to send us away to fight, but we don’t qualify for decent jobs or careers. We’re Status 3. My family is stuck in this cycle. See?”

  “I do see. And like I said before, it’s sick. If Global Command forces families to advance their children, soon the population will…maybe that’s the plan. To reduce the population and only keep the wealthy reproducing.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Dax. It’s dangerous.”

  I roll over and watch the rest of my fellow AFGF’s play War and Money. “Viga, what happens when your ma can’t have kids anymore?”