The Ninth: Invasion (39 page)

“Dante, you’ve got to teach me that one day,” Cassandra said with a smile.

“After today, I’ll join in some of that training,” Doug said.  “Did you see how Angela handled those security forces?”

“You think
that
was impressive?”  Her voice was slow and calm.  “Imagine if Brent had asked me to do something I was
good
at.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not all Weavers are created equal,” Marie said.  “Don’t you remember the mess hall, Dougie?”

Doug thought for a moment before shrugging.  Liz giggled slightly.

“Moron.  We were attacked by two Weavers.  How could you forget something like that?” Marie asked, with an annoyed sigh.

“Oh yeah!  I remember now.  Those two were terrifying.  But what does that have to do with Angela?”

“What Marie is trying to explain is, different Weavers have different strengths,” Brent said, interrupting.  “Those two were skilled with panic and paranoia.  Angela’s strong suit is depression.”

“If you knew that, then why did you ask me to work on fear?” Angela asked in surprise.

“I needed them disabled for a minute or two.  Depression could have done the trick, but I didn’t want to risk suicide.  Plus, I know you don’t want to deal with depression anymore.”  Brent smiled warmly.

Angela silently thought to herself as a smile pulled at Cain’s mouth.  Doug shrugged to himself, as he had no idea what any of them were talking about.  The day had been a long one, and sleep came easily to the squad.  It was a good thing, too.  The entire squad was asleep before the ship made its first jump.  Brent forced himself to stay awake until the Wall came.  The brilliant light of the green nebula danced around the interior of the ship.  Wisps of smoke snaked just far off enough to be safe as arcs of lightning played in the distance.  Quietly, he let out a sigh of relief as the Wall passed without waking any of them.  Without realizing it, he fell asleep shortly after the passing of the Wall.  The familiar three tones woke him in the morning.  Brent smiled to himself as the last images of an auburn field faded.  The universe might be in turmoil, but at least his dreams were still the same.

“Rise and shine!” Chelsea shouted energetically.

He hadn’t noticed her, but she was already standing at the edge of the bunks.  She must have been waiting for the tones to wake the newcomers.  He chuckled to himself as he wondered if this was her form of revenge.

“Something funny?” she asked him – the only awake trooper.

“Not really.  They always take a while to get up in the morning.  I see you don’t share that problem.”

Chelsea opened her mouth to speak but quickly snapped it shut.  Her eyes were fixed on his uniform.

“Something wrong?” Brent asked.

“You’re a . . .”  Her voice faded, unable to say the word.

“Weaver, that’s right.  Didn’t you notice?”

Absentmindedly she shook her head.  Chelsea quickly scanned the other troopers.

“Just two of us.  Angela and I are the only Weavers in the squad,” Brent answered her gaze.

“
Only
?” she asked in surprise.  “Two Weavers in the same squad.  I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”

“Is it really that odd of a thing?”

“No offense, but your kind is hard to deal with individually.  I’ve never heard of a pair of Weavers willing to follow orders.

“It’s safe to say Tyra’s squad is one of the most unique in the Commonwealth.”

Brent smiled warmly at Chelsea as she tried to sum him up with her eyes.  It was clear she was reevaluating her opinion of him.

“Nevertheless, the tones have sounded and it’s time to get up,” Chelsea shouted to the rest of the squad.  “We have a long day ahead of us.”

The others reluctantly stirred.  As Brent stood, Chelsea took a step away from him.  Her gaze was locked on his leg.  Without realizing it, he had stood on his injured leg.  Brent was just as surprised as she was.  He barely felt any pain when he put weight on it.  Even with Cassandra’s help, every step had been painful the day before, but now it felt only slightly fatigued - like he had just finished a long jog.

“I thought I told you to take it easy on that leg,” Owen said, clearly flustered.

“It’s too early to bicker,” Erin said with a yawn.

As the rest of the squad slowly stirred, Owen looked over Brent’s leg again.

“Something wrong?” Chelsea asked after a while.

“Nothing at all,” Owen said over his shoulder as he shifted to block her view.

He silently inspected the wound as she tried to sneak a peak.

“A good night’s rest did him wonders.”  He stood with a smile after he put away his medical equipment.  “He’s ready for whatever torture you can dish out.”

Chelsea shifted her weight uncomfortably as Owen chuckled.

“So you do have some sort of torture in mind,” Cain said, grinning on his bunk.  “Let’s hope it’s physical.  It’s
way
too early for psychological torture.”

The squad chuckled as Chelsea put up a forced smile.  Brent imagined she probably wanted to ring Cain’s neck.

“Now Cain, it’s not nice to pick on more than one girl at a time,” Dante said with a smirk.  “Or are you already tired of Angela?” “

Suddenly the blanket around Cain started moving of its own accord.  With a single jolt, Angela was sitting upright.  Brent realized Cain wasn’t where he was supposed to be; the two of them had fallen asleep in the same bunk.  Chelsea started blushing.  Penny and Marie instantly jumped to the side of Angela’s bed with wide grins on their faces.  Her face flushed with anger as she looked at the two girls.  He could only imagine what emotions she was sensing from them.

“That’s enough excitement for one morning,” Chelsea said, trying to regain composure.  “We’ve got a lot of work to do before we get to Reloas.”

After a brief salute, Chelsea turned and quickly walked away.  Liz grabbed Marie’s collar and started pulling her.

“Would you please wait a moment,” Liz called out to the quickly retreating Chelsea.

“What is it?” Chelsea asked, without turning to face them.

“Could you take us to the stalls?  I don’t know my way around the ship,” Liz asked in her usual shy voice.

Chelsea’s demeanor softened as Liz caught up to her.

“Guess we should hurry.”  Ronald started following Liz.  “Unless we want to be left behind.”

With a few more yawns and some minor grumbling, the squad followed Chelsea down the corridors to the stalls.  As they made their way, Brent couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of the familiar surroundings.  He knew he was on a warship, but everywhere he looked, something reminded him of the academy.  Brent was surprised there was no line for the stalls.  The Harbinger either had a smaller crew than expected or they were all late risers.  Before he could make his way to a free stall, Owen grabbed his shoulder.  He waited but Owen didn’t say a thing until Chelsea was inside her own stall.

“What’s wrong?” Brent asked.

“Not so loud,” Owen said as he gestured for him to whisper.

“What is it?” he whispered.

“I didn’t want to alarm anyone, but we need to talk about your leg.”

“Is something wrong?  It feels fine.”

“That’s the thing.  There is nothing wrong with your leg.  Nothing I can see at least.  If I hadn’t tended the wound myself, I’d have to wonder if you’d been shot at all.”

“It healed overnight?” Brent asked in surprise.

“Something like that.  You’ll have a scar, but it is going to look like you cut yourself while shaving or something. 
Not
like a rifle blast almost severed your leg.”

“Shaving my legs?” he asked with a grin.

“Sure, joke around.  I’m worried.”

“Well, what can we do?”

“Nothing at the minute.  But
please
take it easy on the leg.  It looks good, but I don’t have the equipment to get a full scan.  I don’t want you straining it and injuring it again.”

He nodded and patted Owen reassuringly on the shoulder.  With a sigh, he headed toward a free stall.  By the time the squad was finished, Chelsea was long gone.  The job was left to Brent to lead the group back to their bunks.  When they made it back, the troopers from the ship were starting to form neat rows.

Cain tried to start up a conversation or two, only to be shut down.  Apparently Tyra’s squad had yet to earn the privilege to speak freely with them.  Despite their rudeness, Brent had to give them some credit; they were a very close group.  They called one another Harbingers, not troopers.  When Harper addressed them as “Harbingers of the Abyss,” their chests swelled with pride.  Of course, he continued to call Tyra and the rest,
recruits
.

Harper ordered Tyra’s squad and the rest of the his troopers through intense drills.  From the significant amounts of sweat saturating the Harbinger’s shirts, Brent gathered the drills were much more difficult than they were normally accustomed to.  Harper was giving it his all to break the newcomers.  After a fair bit of intense exertion, the first started to collapse.  To Harper’s chagrin, those who couldn’t take any more were not from Tyra’s squad.  Several in her squad were panting heavily, but they still had more in them.

After a long pause for a jump, Harper pressed on, increasing the difficulty of the exercises and drills.  It took a while, but eventually the first of Tyra’s squad was done.  Twenty-seven of Harper’s Harbingers had collapsed before Angela gave up.  Brent noticed with a smile she had given up, not collapsed.  Harper looked like he wanted to slaughter her as Angela casually walked off and took a seat with the unconscious Harbingers.  Harper took out his frustration on those still left.  As Harper increased the difficulty of his orders, the rate of dropping troopers increased.

After a seeming eternity, there were only a handful of people left.  Those who had collapsed or given up earlier had started cheering on the survivors.  The sound of their cheering almost masked the panting of those who remained, almost.  He wondered if Harper planned to keep it up until every single member of Tyra’s squad had given up.  Unfortunately for Harper, he still had several to work through.  Beside himself, Cassandra, Ronald, Hiroko and Dante were still ready for more.  Mr. Springate was the last one to have dropped.

Brent had thought he’d last longer, but it was obvious Mr. Springate’s training was in stealth.  His movements were almost silent, but they used up too much energy.  Tyra and the rest of the squad showered him with praise for lasting so long.  Tyra herself had waited until about half her squad had given up before throwing in the towel.  He could clearly make out the seething hatred on Harper’s face as he surveyed the remaining seventeen Harbingers.  Brent had tried to keep count, but it was near impossible to keep up with the drills and keep track of every person who had given up.  Although he didn’t have an exact number, he had a rough idea of their size.

The Harbingers of the Abyss numbered about twice as large as a normal division, with somewhere between two hundred and two hundred fifty troopers.  As they completed his last drill, Harper would call out the next one without allowing a moment’s rest.  Hiroko and Dante both gave up before they completed the drill, along with five Harbingers.  He was exhausted, but through sheer will alone managed to keep pressing his body to move.  Cassandra seemed tired but not as much as she should have.  Being a heavy-worlder must have made it easier for her to keep going.

Brent started to wonder how many of the twelve Harbingers left were heavy-worlders.  He hadn’t noticed anyone else coping with the added gravity when the ship had left Eos, but it wouldn’t be hard to miss a few out of a couple of hundred faces.  As Harper was about to give his next set of orders, the P.A. alerted them the ship was jumping.  With a wicked grin, Harper ordered them all to continue despite the coming Wall.  Some of the Harbingers seemed to be disturbed by the idea, but Ronald and Cassandra remained perfectly calm.  Brent was actually looking forward to the Wall.  For a few moments the Wall would hold him still; it would almost be a rest.

It took the Wall forever to get to them.  The living quarters for the troopers must have been near the rear of the long ship.  As the Wall approached them, Harper made them take a strenuous position that put all their weight on their left legs.  Brent wondered if Chelsea had told Harper about his injury or if he’d noticed it last night.  Cassandra and several of his friends looked at him in concern as he took the directed stance.  Cassandra had been so caught up with Brent she had forgotten to take the position herself, and Harper gleefully ordered her to sit with the rest of those who had given up.  Three of Harper’s men followed Cassandra in missing the stance, with their eyes firmly fixed on the Wall.

The tingling sensation of the Wall was incredibly refreshing to Brent’s aching muscles.  After it had passed through the room, Harper shouted his next orders.  They were down to Brent, Ronald, and nine of his Harbingers.  Two more Harbingers gave up before the next drill was over.  Harper stared down Brent and Ronald with rage in his eyes.  Brent had to wince when Harper gave his next order.  The volume of the shout had no doubt strained his vocal cords.  As he hopped to the orders, he spied Harper rubbing his neck.