Once the rank and file were settled into their chairs, Lieutenant Colonel Anthony DeMartino snapped the heels of his shoes smartly to call attention to the front. All noise ceased immediately as every eye turned forward. Pleased with the speed of compliance with his nonverbal order, DeMartino smiled slightly and began to speak in calm, even tones.
"Class, we have a new cadet joining us today," he said. "Please welcome Third Class Cadet Morgendorffer. ON YOUR FEET, SOLDIER!"
Daria jerked in her seat, unprepared for the sudden change in tone, then grudgingly stood up and saluted the teacher somewhat briskly. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but the teacher's smile suddenly became grim and frosty without having to physically change his expression one iota. A chill ran down her back at the impression.
"Well, cadet," he said, "as long as you're standing . . . Last week, we began a unit on westward expansion. Perhaps you feel it's unfair to be asked a question on your first day of class?"
A trickle of sweat began to wend its way across Daria's left temple, leaving a cold trail behind it. Her normal reaction in such situations would be to react with hostility, make some sort of sarcastic barb, or simply let the other party know of her complete disinterest through her body language, but the cold that continued to emanate off of DeMartino along with the way that one of his eyes seemed to be opening just a fraction wider than its counterpart kept her silent. Until, that is, she realized that the lieutenant colonel was waiting for an answer.
"No, sir," she said carefully. "I would not feel treated unfairly under those circumstances."
The smile grew a centimeter and seemed to gain some genuine warmth to it. "Cadet Morgendorffer, can you concisely and unemotionally sum up for us the doctrine of Manifest Destiny?"
Without hesitation, Daria said, "Manifest Destiny was a slogan popular in the 1840's. It was used by people who claimed it was God's will for the US to expand all the way to the Pacific Ocean."
She tried to pull her teeth and lips shut after that, but the urge was simply too powerful. "These people did not include many Mexicans," she added after the briefest of pauses.
Rather than incited, LTC DeMartino actually seemed to be somewhat amused by the addendum. "Very good, cadet," he said with a nod. "You transferred in from . . . Highland public school in Texas, is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," she said, unable to keep the derision from her voice.
"Hmm. As much faith as I have in our governmental system and all that it does for the citizenry of these great states, I find it difficult to believe that a public education of the caliber you surely enjoyed would have adequately prepared you to answer that question correctly, let alone so quickly. Still. Very good.
"Now, class," the teacher continued, nodding permission for Daria to be seated. "Who can tell me which war Manifest Destiny was used to justify? Cadet Thompson? How about you?"
"The Vietnam War, sir!" Thompson belted out immediately.
DeMartino's eye twitched ever so slightly. "That came a little later, cadet," he said, his voice turning low and dangerous. "Over a hundred years later, in fact. A lot of good men died in that conflict. I BELIEVE WE OWE IT TO THEM TO AT LEAST GET THE CENTURY RIGHT!"
Cadet Thompson leaned back from the sudden onslaught and worked his jaw until something else came out. "Uh . . . Operation Watergate?" he mumbled.
LTC DeMartino stared hard at the unfortunate cadet for what felt like minutes but could only have been a few seconds. Thompson tried to shrink down into his uniform, then let out a soft sigh of relief as the teacher turned to the seat next to his.
"Cadet Taylor," DeMartino said icily, "can you tell me which war we fought against the Mexicans over Manifest Destiny?"
The blonde girl he was speaking to idly tugged at a short lock of hair on the side of her head, chewed on her lower lip for a moment, then shook her head sadly. "No, sir," she said quietly.
"Try," DeMartino fairly growled.
"Uh . . . the Viet Cong War?" she ventured.
Without a single change of expression, DeMartino straightened up and took in a deep breath of air through his nose before barking at the class, "EITHER SOMEONE GIVES ME THE ANSWER, OR I GIVE ALL OF YOU LATRINE AND MESS DUTY FOR THE NEXT THREE WEEKS! I WANT A VOLUNTEER WITH THE ANSWER! NOW!"
Daria's eyes darted around the room, but either everyone who knew the answer had been stunned into silence by the outburst, or she really was the only one. Gritting her teeth and mentally cursing her situation, she slowly raised her hand.
"STOP SHOWING OFF, CADET MORGENDORFFER! DROP AND GIVE ME TEN!"
Lowering her hand and sighing to herself, Daria dropped to the floor and began her set of assigned push-ups. It was going to be a long three years until graduation.