Chapter 28: Exercise in Futility

Day four.

The fourth day of being trapped here. One more morning where I woke up not in my nice, comfortable bed. Another day that I had to put up with all sorts of shit. Another day of being pushed to my limit.

Sighing, I got up, set about cleaning up my bed and tidying my corner of the room. No one else was up yet. It was only half past six in the morning. Why did I keep waking up so early? Nerves? Stress? Was I just paranoid and waking up at the slightest sound?

No, I didn't know what was going on. But at least I didn't wake up feeling tired. It'd be hellish to go through the day tired. How miserable that must be. No one else was up, based on how still the room was. The only sound came from Temond's soft snoring. Well, good to see they were getting their sleep in. Each day must leave them more exhausted then me. They probably needed sleep more than I did.

I did what I had done before, which was lie around and wait for someone else to get up. Eventually, someone did. This time it was Egeers, who slipped from his bed and into the showers, followed by Burtrus and Evet. I got off my bed and joined them. Showering with only a few people was a little weird, the more people there were, the less weird it felt.

They still seemed pretty tired from yesterday, yawning under the hot water. I didn't know if each shower had a separate supply or if there was one shared tank, so I decided to be quick about mine. Drying myself off and getting dressed, I sat on my bed, flipping through the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer yet again. It was a load of horseshit but amusing nonetheless.

Everyone trickled in and out of the showers, everyone except Desmond that is, who hadn't woken up yet. No one seemed to pay him much mind, since he had his head buried in his pillow. But he'd have to get up sooner or later.

"So," Prassus said, yawning as he flopped down on my bed, "how are things?"

"I don't think we're going to do well with him around," I said, nodding my head towards Desmond. Prassus snorted.

"He's to blame if we screw up," he said.

"I don't think the sergeant will see it that way," I said. Prassus shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. We'll know. That's all that matters. Hey, man, look, I've been meaning to thank you for yesterday. What you did, that was pretty good of you," he said, and I blinked in confusion. What I did? What did I do?

"Oh, you mean with the water. Like I said, think nothing of it," I said, but Prassus was having none of it.

"Nah, what you did…that was good stuff, good stuff," he said. I just shrugged. I knew that it was good of me to do it, but I hadn't been thinking when I did it…I just…acted. But I knew that if I didn't take credit for it, if I made myself look extra humble, well, that'd score me some good points. I felt I was close to getting the squads support, the entire squads support that is, and was in nearly all of their good graces. Hopefully I could cement myself a solid friendship with all of them, and then…then I'd be what?

Safer?

I didn't think I'd ever truly be safe, but if I could count on these people to come to my side, to back me when shit went wrong, to never look down on me, or turn on me, and stick with me, then…then I think I could manage to make it far. A part of me felt terrible for looking at it like that. I had vowed to be better, to be the best I could, to stick with them as I would want them to stick with me, but…another part of me…another part of me really felt that I needed to win them over, to have them stand by me. A shield against the dangers of the universe.

I felt terrible to be treating them like things to be won over, but…well, without them, where would I be? What would I have?

Desmond was a good example of that. He had no friends here. No allies. No one to count on. If things went wrong, what would he do? Who did he have to rely on? No one. In fact, he was such an outsider I wouldn't be surprised if someone in this room murdered him. If Oleev was to be believed, she'd murdered someone before. She could certainly do it again.

And Desmond wasn't exactly doing a good job at winning them over. It's like he just…expected to be treated well. Like he deserved it. He didn't think he had to do anything, it'd all be done for him, and that said a lot about what sort of life he'd lived. Whatever happened, I vowed not to end up like him.

Even if I was deliberately trying to win everyone over onto my side.

"Sent? Sent?" Prassus said, waving his hands in front of my face. "You there, buddy?"

"What? Oh, sorry, lost in thought," I smiled, noticing Prassus bemused expression. He just grinned.

"Yeah, what about?" He asked. I shrugged. What was I going to say? That I'm trying to befriend all of you so I can count on you having my back when the time comes? I don't think so.

"Just…thinking about what we're going to be doing today," I said. This time, Prassus shrugged.

"Who knows? We best be getting ready, though, look at the time," he said, pointing to the clock. Crap. Alexei would be here soon, and Desmond still wasn't even up. Fortunately, Prassus took a direct approach, and just pulled Desmond from his bed.

"Come on, up you get!" He said, pushing Desmond towards the showers. Desmond was shouting angrily the whole time.

Sergeant Alexei showed up just as Desmond was finishing getting dressed. He expressed his disappointment in our state of dress, then had us out the door and on our way to the mess hall. Our breakfast was rice and soup. Everyone but Desmond seemed happy with that. He had been complaining all morning. God damn it, he complained about everything!

Then we were onto training.

The races went well. I managed to put in a respectable fifth place, beating Prassus, who dropped to 6th. Desmond came definitively last. Then individual track tests. I improved my time, but not enough to satisfy Alexei. He never seemed to be satisfied with anything, though. Desmond put in the worst time, complaining all the while, much to everyone's chagrin.

Then we went through the courses. Everyone had their little niche, Ratfinch and speed, Clauda and ropes, me and water, Burtrus and Temond with cooperative tasks. Even those that found themselves struggling pushed through things, some with more fire then others. Desmond, however, performed poorly every single time. Slow, uncoordinated, lazy, unskilled. The only thing he seemed good at was balance, which never really helped him out that well.

We did some wall climbs, though none so arduous as yesterdays. Clauda thrashed us all whenever there were ropes to climb, and I managed to impress them when we had a genuine swimming challenge in an Olympic sized pool. That earned me some bragging rights, not that I ever would, of course. I was by far the best swimmer but made a point of never calling that out.

Lunch came and went, we had some time to ourselves, mostly spent messing around, and then we were back on the firing ranges once again. The same drills, the same tests, the same weapons. Alexei seemed to enjoy this the most, as he was always the loudest and enthusiastic with weapons training. Desmond wasn't terrible with a gun, it was perhaps the only thing he appeared to be good at so far, but that was too little too late to earn him anything. Unarmed combat was, as usual, dominated between me and Burtrus. Desmond was always on the receiving end of the most 'accidental' hits and seemed relieved when I went easy on him. I was praying that wouldn't come back to bite me in the ass, later, but I just couldn't bring myself to hurt him for no reason. I hated hurting people. I still felt terrible for nearly breaking Prassus nose, even if he seemed to have gotten over it within a few hours.

Dinner rolled around, and we got to enjoy some more orange juice with our meal of, once again, rice.

Why did they have so much rice, of all things?

And then we were back in our barracks. Desmond still stared at the girls in the showers, his eyes never leaving their bodies, as much as they, and everyone else, protested. But it was over quickly, because then we were off to our beds. There were more arguments and shouting but most of us were too tired to bother. So went another day.

Day five.

Another day. Another challenge.

Wake up. Clean the room. Have a shower. Get dressed. Wait for Desmond to get up. Push him out of bed if he doesn't. Alexei comes by, inspects us, then sends us off.

Breakfast. Rice, meat, vegetables.

Then the tests. Always beginning with the running. Once the running was done, it was onto the obstacles. Running, climbing, swimming, crawling. It was always a different combination. Always a different test.

Lunch. Rich, meat, vegetables.

Free time. Alexei would come by and lecture us on theory. No one paid much attention. It felt like being back in Elementary school.

Then we went back to the firing ranges. Fire, reload, fire, reload. Then onto combat drills.

This is how you punch, this is how you kick, this is how you block, this is how you throw. I knew all this already and was forced to relearn all these skills I could do instinctively. The training dragged on and on. Even though this was what I was the best at, it felt…boring. We always saw other squads coming in and out of our activities. We always saw other squads in the mess hall, but Alexei rarely sat us next to them. I was hoping to see sergeant Andermark again, see if he would tell me anything new, anything that'd help me figure out what was going on in the galaxy.

I hated not knowing.

Dinner. The same old food. Each time was just about different enough that I didn't go crazy. Thankfully, I liked orange juice.

Then back to our barracks.

Showers, lecture, sleep.

Rinse, repeat.

Day six came by, and the routine was so established we went through the motions without thinking. The girls had taken to showering first, to avoid Desmond, which did make it somewhat awkward on whichever guys were up first. When Prassus and I went into the showers with the three of them, it did feel a little odd. A few days ago, none of us would've thought twice about it. On the first day, perhaps. But we quickly fell into a comfortable familiarity, or at the very least, one that wasn't so awkward and unpleasant as it was now that Desmond was around. But the girls appreciated that we did not stare, and they returned the favour. Conversations were kept to a minimum, and when it was all said and done, we barely exchanged glances.

Up and ready, get dressed, clean the room, wake Desmond. We were getting tired of doing that.

At breakfast, Oleev surprised me by sitting next to me. Usually it was Prassus and Egeers who did so. She didn't say anything, but she didn't glare or sniff in my direction. I would take whatever victories I could. Sergeant Alexi sometimes ate with us, and sometimes he just sat there and read off his data-slate.

Training went by, Alexei's commands ringing in our ears as he pushed us onwards. Always, we were told to be better. To do better. To become better.

We never stopped trying.

The obstacle courses rolled by, and we started getting more and more familiar with them. Some we'd done before, others weren't anything new. We never went through the UTAC again, even though it constantly loomed over the courses. We all eyed it with weary uncertainty. None of us wanted to experience those black waters ever again. Those freezing depths. That tunnel…

Sergeant Alexei never commented on how we were doing beyond the simplest of appraisals. Sometimes were satisfactory. Sometimes were even good. But most of the time, we needed to do better. Much better.

And always, without fail, Desmond proved to be the weakest link. He'd complain, endlessly, about anything. About everything. No matter how many times sergeant Alexei told him to be quiet and carry on, no matter how much we yelled at him (or, more accurately, they yelled at him), he still complained and moped about. He would even sit around in between challenges, rather then stand at attention. He was always the first to give up, always the one with a problem, always the one who had to comment on whatever we were doing. He just wouldn't shut up.

No one liked him. I totally understood it now. Because as much as he complained, he always seemed to expect things would go his way, that he was always free of responsibility, that everyone was always expected to carry him. I was beginning to suspect there was something wrong with him, mentally. That he was a sociopath, or at the very least a narcissistic personality disorder. He seemed unable to comprehend why people didn't like him. He always seemed to be the victim, always seemed to be the one being treated unfairly.

He was not cut out for military life. To be fair, I didn't think I was either, as all this repetition and the strictly regimented lifestyle was pretty soul crushing for someone as free-spirited and relaxed as I was. But I knew I had to toughen up and bear it, and, so long as I had friends, I could lean on them for support. Sometimes literally.

But the days seemed to go by quicker now that we knew what was expected. Not quick enough, mind you, but sooner or later, they'd always end with us back in our beds, in our dark barracks, listening to the sounds of the ship.

I dreamt of dark water once again, stretching beneath me like the depths of the ocean.