Chapter 2

"Yes, I've seen the order! I've seen all the orders! I've got orders from the General Staff, orders from the Council of Counts—countersigned by the Emperor, himself!—orders from the Bureau of Personnel, orders from the Chief Surgeon and a dozen others! Half of them contradict the other half! What the hell am I supposed to do with this girl?"

Anny sat bolt upright on the edge of a chair in the room outside the Academy Commandant's office. She was fairly certain she wasn't supposed to be hearing the half of the comconsole conversation that was coming through the thin walls. She glanced at the Commandant's aide working at his desk, but he made no sign that he even heard the tirade, although there was no way anyone could have missed it.

"Treat her like any other cadet? Yes, that's what the order from BuPers says! But am I to take that literally? Payne is due to report for her physical testing—yes, I know she's passed all of them already but she's taking them again today with the other cadets anyway—and do you remember what the regulation uniform is for the testing, Emil? It hasn't been that long since we were here as cadets, has it? That's right: shoes and shorts—and nothing else! Do I send her out there topless?"

Anny paled and she automatically crossed her arms across her chest. Most of her was horrified at the possibility, but a tiny part of her almost wanted to do it just to let them know she could take anything they could dish out. Almost.

She'd arrived at the Academy early that morning. Drou had borrowed a bright red lightflyer from the Vorkosigans and flown her here herself. Anny had suggested taking the monorail alone, as most other arriving cadets did, but Drou wanted a last chance to talk to her. She'd been so excited and nervous she scarcely remembered what they talked about but the Academy was only a few hundred kilometers north of Vorbarr Sultana so it had been a short conversation anyway. The hug that Drou gave her on the landing pad seemed to last longer than the flight. The woman seemed reluctant to let go of her.

Her arrival had caused as much confusion among the processing staff as it now seemed to be causing to Colonel Sylvanus. Surely, they knew I was coming! They all acted as if she was some alien creature who had just fallen out of the sky into their midst. I guess it probably seems exactly like that to some of them. No one knew what she was supposed to do or where she should go. Even a relatively simple matter like issuing uniforms and gear had caused a commotion. She tried to explain that she already had a full set of uniforms. She didn't mention that they were custom-tailored to fit her female body-shape and paid for by Countess Vorkosigan. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway: the quartermaster sergeant insisted that every incoming cadet must be issued a full set of uniforms—'regulations, miss'—so now she had two enormous duffle bags and two sets of uniforms. Identical, except that one set fit and the other set probably did not.

At least they admitted that she existed. She was on their computer rosters: A. Payne. She had no doubt the sort of jokes that would soon generate! She'd already heard them all on her journey through school. After several hours of passing the payne up the chain of command, she'd ended up in the Commandant's Office.

"Use my common sense?" bellowed the Commandant. "If I was allowed to use my common sense, she wouldn't even be here! And what about the shower and toilet facilities? What about the barracks? They are not co-ed, Emil! I've got another order here from the Adjutant General's Office reminding me that no harassment of Cadet Payne will be tolerated except—and I quote—'such as is normal for any cadet at the Academy'. What the hell does that mean? Upperclassmen harassing plebes has been going on as long as the Academy has existed! If a Fourth Form cadet swats Payne on the a…the backside to hurry her along is he going to be hauled up on charges? And that's not the worst thing that could happen by any means. Put a young woman into a company of young men full of testosterone and you know damn well what's going to happen! What? Yes, she's attractive. I've seen her pics and she's very pretty. But after a month or so here it wouldn't matter if she looked like Sergeant Major Szytko! Can you imagine the nightmare if we had to courts martial a dozen Vor lordlings on rape charges? I'm telling you, Emil, this is going to cause chaos!"

Now Anny was blushing. The Countess had given her some very frank information on the dangers she might face. There had been an odd tone in her voice that had made Anny shiver. Drou had given equally frank advice on just what to do if the dangers materialized. She felt she could fight off one or two attackers, but not a whole mob. Would they really do something like that? Now even the secretary was stirring uneasily and he threw a glance in her direction.

"Perhaps you should wait outside, cadet," he said quietly. Anny immediately sprang to her feet.

"Yes, sir. Uh, where…?"

"Out on the porch should be okay. Just don't wander off."

"Yes, sir." She left the office and retreated down the hallway and through the double doors and onto the porch where her two duffle bags sat forlornly. The Commandant's office was in a big, old house that dated from the Time of Isolation. It had once been part of an estate owned by the Vorbarra family, but Emperor Ezar had given it and the land around it to become the Academy. The porch thrust out from the front of the house and was covered by a roof set on thick, white pillars. A white balustrade ran between the pillars except where the steps went down to the ground. Immediately to the front was a vast parade ground over a kilometer square. It was flat as a griddlecake with lush, closely-mowed grass, starting to yellow slightly with the end of summer. A battalion of cadets were drilling in the bright sunshine, their black fatigues a sharp contrast to the grass. Anny put her back to the wall beside the door and watched.

She decided they must be the Third or possibly even the Fourth Form class because they were very good; certainly not raw recruits. Commodore Koudelka had drilled her for weeks and she knew every paragraph of Vorcasey's Tactics like the back of her hand. School of the Soldier, School of the Company, School of the Battalion, she felt like she could carry out the moves in her sleep. Of course, except for the manual of arms and a few basic marching maneuvers that could be executed in the garden of Vorkosigan House, she had never actually done any of it.

These cadets were doing it and doing it very well. Each company, though composed of sixty or seventy men, moved like it was a solid object; the building blocks of the battalion. They wheeled and obliqued as the battalion went from line to column and back again. She whistled silently as they formed a square: a defensive formation against cavalry attack. A few generations earlier there might have been cavalry drilling on this field, too. It was impressive. Totally impractical for fighting with modern weapons, but still impressive. And that was the whole point, of course. Close order drill instilled a sense of pride and solidarity. The battalion on the field was accompanied by a small fife and drum band which helped keep the cadence. Some of the tunes sent chills down her spine. Anny's heart beat faster and she longed for the chance to get out there and do it herself.

She became so caught up in watching that she almost didn't notice the approach of a pair of officers coming along the walkway. When they started up the steps, she spotted them and instantly came to rigid attention. A captain and a lieutenant in undress greens, they were talking about some administrative matter and didn't give her a glance until they reached the doors. When they did look at her they both stopped dead as if they'd run into a force barrier. Now that they had noticed her existence, she was obliged to salute, which she did. The captain very slowly returned it. "What… who are you?" he asked.

"Cadet Payne, sir."

"Good God, so the rumors were true for once. What are you doing, standing here?"

"Waiting to see the Commandant, sir. I was told to wait here by his aide."

They stared at her for a moment longer and then passed through the doors, shaking their heads in unison. She heard the captain say: "There's going to be Hell to pay now!"

She waited and waited and wondered if they had forgotten about her. Deliberately, perhaps? The drilling battalion was dismissed and dispersed into the buildings along the edges of the parade ground. A bugle sounded the mid-day meal but Anny did not dare leave to search for a mess hall. More people entered and left the headquarters buildings, most giving her a surprised look, but saying nothing. She saluted when appropriate and listened to her stomach growling. She grew progressively more worried; the physical testing that she was supposed to repeat started at two, she'd been told. What if she missed it standing here?

Perhaps fifteen minutes after the lunch call another man approached. He was wearing the uniform of a regimental sergeant major and he moved with a stiff precision that bespoke a lifetime in the military. He wasn't particularly tall, but seemed to project an aura of authority mixed with menace. His dark hair was cut short and was distinctly white at the temples. His face was rugged with a slightly crooked nose and a faint scar running down his left cheekbone to his jawline. There were multiple rows of ribbons on his chest and hashmarks on his sleeves denoting many years of service to the Imperium. Anny came to attention, but did not salute as he marched past her. His eyes flicked in her direction, but he didn't pause or change expression.

Anny sighed and slumped slightly against the wall. This was becoming ridiculous. Hurry up and wait, just like the Commodore said. Stay cool, don't let it get to you or you've lost half the fight right there. She took off her cap and ran her hand through her own closely-cropped hair. She'd once had long brown hair which she liked to weave into elaborate braids. All gone now, per the regulations. Countess Cordelia had told her, when she asked about those regulations, that they should try to win the important battles and not waste ammunition on minor items. She could hardly argue and went to a barber the next day. It was the sensible thing to do, but she didn't quite recognize the person in the mirror these days. If I make it through this, will I recognize myself at all?

"Cadet Payne! Front and center!"

She snapped to attention and scrambled for the door so instinctively she almost fell over one of her duffle bags. The shouted command had seemed to bypass all the higher reasoning sections of her brain and go directly to the parts controlling her motor nerves. She quickly returned to the office where she'd been sitting. The door to the Commandant's personal office was now standing open and the aide indicated she should go in.

Colonel Sylvanus was sitting at his desk and the sergeant major she'd seen earlier was standing off to one side. Both of them were looking at her. She stopped in front of the desk, came to attention and saluted. "Cadet Payne reporting as ordered, sir." The Commandant was a broad-shouldered, balding man in his mid-fifties. His undress greens sported a host of ribbons—but not quite as many as the sergeant major. He returned her salute with an irritated flick of his hand.

"Cadet, this is Regimental Sergeant Major Szytko. He will be… overseeing your introduction to the Academy. You will follow whatever instructions he gives you, understood?"

"Yes, sir." Anny glanced at Szytko but the man stood at parade rest and looked right past her.

"Cadet, you are due on the obstacle course in forty-two minutes. Move out."

Anny hesitated for an instant and then saluted. "Yes, sir!" She faced about and headed for the door. Szytko was already two paces ahead of her. She caught up but then fell behind again when she had to stop and grab the two duffle bags. They had shoulder straps, but they probably weighed twenty kilos apiece and she struggled to get them up and positioned properly. Once done, she could only move forward in an awkward waddle. It wasn't the weight so much as the size and mass that defeated quick movement. Szytko was thirty paces ahead by this time but he halted and looked back until she caught up. He did not offer to help. He then led the way with Anny puffing along behind.

After a few minutes Anny realized that they were passing by the cadet barracks and heading for a patch of woods in the distance. "Where… where are we going?" she gasped.

"Your quarters," replied the Sergeant Major.

"Aren't I staying in the barracks?"

"No."

"But… but I thought I was to be treated like any other cadet."

Szytko was silent for a dozen paces before he replied. "The Colonel has decided that the equal treatment should be limited to those things on which cadets are graded or evaluated. Sleeping, washing and… certain other activities are not graded and do not fall under the equal treatment orders."

"Separate but equal, eh?" snorted Anny.

"Something like that, cadet. It's for the good of the service."

"Maybe you should just take me off in the woods and kill me, Sergeant Major. That would simplify everyone's life, wouldn't it?"

Another lengthy pause. Perhaps he's considering it. "Less talk and more walk, cadet. You have thirty-five minutes."

They reached the woods and Anny saw an overgrown path leading into it. They followed this for three or four hundred meters and came to a clearing with a small house in the center. Some sort of guest cottage? The place had clearly been unoccupied for a long time. Szytko had to throw his weight against the door before it squealed open on badly rusted hinges. Inside, the place was covered in dust, the furnishings old and shabby, and a few empty liquor bottles were scattered about. The Sergeant Major looked around in distaste. "You can police this later. Dump your kit and change into your PT gear, cadet. I'll wait outside."

Anny dropped the duffle bags with a grunt of relief. "No need, Sergeant Major, I'm wearing it under my fatigues." She unzipped her tunic and trousers and shucked them off. Underneath, she wore the regulation shorts and a non-regulation black T-shirt. They locked eyes for a long moment. Anny slowly began to remove her top but Szytko put out his hand.

"That will do, cadet."

"Equal treatment?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. The corner of Szytko's mouth twitched, but no one would call it a smile.

"Save your breath for running, cadet. The obstacle course is three kilometers from here and you have nineteen minutes. Move out."

[Scene Break]

Three kilometers in fifteen minutes didn't even have Anny breathing hard. She'd trained with Drou to run at twice that pace for long distances. But Szytko matched her stride for stride and looked no more fatigued than she felt when they arrived—and he had to be nearly Drou's age.

Clustered around the start of the obstacle course were about a hundred new cadets. Anny suddenly realized that this was her company. She'd be spending the next four years with these boys—at least the ones who made it through. The Commodore had described the close-knit comraderie that normally developed within a company. Not just during the time at the Academy, but for the rest of their careers. How would these boys react to her presence? Would they let her truly join them or would she be an outsider now and for always? She had wanted to become a part of the Imperial military, but it wasn't really up to her, was it? She could do everything right, pass every test and every challenge, but if her peers refused to accept her, there was nothing she could do about it.

She came to a halt at the rear of the group. They were all looking at a sergeant who was holding a notepad and they hadn't noticed her yet. But the sergeant had. He snarled out a rather amazing obscenity and then looked at Szytko. "Sergeant Major! By all the saints what in blazes have you got there? Please don't say you're bringin' it to me!"

"'Fraid so, Jon. Punishment for your many sins," replied Szytko with no sympathy in his voice. He left Anny and went over to talk with the sergeant. Their conversation was inaudible but there was a lot of gesticulating on the other sergeant's part. By now, all the cadets had turned to face her and were staring with gape-mouthed astonishment. She looked right back at them. One of the things the Commodore had drilled her on was looking people right in the eye. He'd taken her on walks through Vorbarr Sultana and insisted that she look boldly and squarely at each person they passed. Now she was grateful for the practice. What she saw was a mob of young men about her own age (probably a little younger since they hadn't had to waste a whole year getting permission to come here). They were tall, short, thin, stocky, fair and dark. All had close-cut hair and they were all bare to the waist. Most looked quite fit, although a few were a tad chubby. She swept her gaze across them and looked them in the eyes.

After a few moments she realized that most of them weren't meeting her eyes. It seemed like they were staring a bit… lower. Anny reddened slightly. Her endowment was about average, but the physical training she had received had enlarged her pectorals and flattened her abdomen and left her looking rather… statuesque.

The other cadets seemed to have noticed.

"All right, you apes! Screw your eyes back into your heads and face me!" growled the sergeant. Everyone obeyed and Anny was at the back of the crowd instead of the front once again. The two sergeants had finished their discussion and Szytko had stepped off to the side and stood there with folded arms. The other sergeant cleared his throat noisily. "Now, as I was saying before we were interrupted: I am Sergeant Byrne and you are "C" Company! I will have the… privilege of commanding you until such time as you've earned the right to have your own company officers and NCOs. As of this moment, I am your company commander and you will address me as 'sir. Got that?"

"Yes, sir!" A hundred voices, including Anny's, shouted back as loudly as they could. They had all watched those movies on the vids and knew what was expected of them. Sergeant Byrne looked as though he was going to give them the old I can't hear you routine anyway, but then thought better of it.

"In a few minutes you will begin the obstacle course. You will start in pairs at thirty-second intervals. Once begun you do not have to remain in your pairs. Proceed at your best speed. Sound off when I call your names and line up over there. Lafney! Land!" A pair of boys shouted back here! and moved over to the start line. "Leignitz! Lentov!" Two more answered and lined up behind the first two. Okay, C Company starts with the Ls, thought Anny. That should put me right about in the middle. I wonder how many of these cadets are Vor? For a long time no one but the Vor class could even come to the Academy. That restriction was eliminated during the reign of Emperor Ezar and during the regency and reign of Emperor Gregor the percentage of non-Vor had risen steadily. Still, Anny was willing to bet that over half her company were Vor, even though that honorific was dropped from every cadet's name during his time here.

Sergeant Byrne called off a dozen more names; he was up to the Ns now. "Naddel! Nevitch! Halt! Scratch that!" Two boys had started forward but pulled up short at Byrne's sudden command. He stared at his notepad for a moment and then scribbled on it with his stylus and nodded his head. "Naddel! Payne!" It took an instant for Anny to realize that her name had been called—out of order. But she shouted here! and trotted over to the start line with a dark-haired boy about her own height who looked at her suspiciously. She dared a small smile.

"Hi. I'm Anny Payne."

"Jer. Jer Naddel." He didn't offer his hand, but there was a distinct accent to his voice.

"You're Komarran?"

"And you're a girl."

"You noticed that, did you?"

"I didn't think Barrayarans had girls. In the military, I mean."

"Glad you clarified that."

"So, what are you doing here?"

"We're about to find that out." Naddel frowned but said no more. Sergeant Byrne finished calling off the pairs and then went to the front of the line and started sending the cadets out on to the obstacle course at intervals. Anny glanced back and saw that Sergeant Major Szytko was still there, watching her.

Another few minutes and it would be her turn. She took a deep breath and forced herself not to shake. This was it. Everything that had happened up to now was just preparation for what was to come. She didn't have any worries about the obstacle course, itself. She'd trained on harder ones than this with Drou. But once she crossed that line, she was committed and could not turn back. Success or failure, it was all up to her now.

"Go!" Sergeant Byrne released another pair. Only one more in front of her. Can I do this? No other choice now, girl!

"Go!" Her turn next. She tensed and took her spot at the start line.

"Go!"

Anny Payne sprinted toward the future.