POV Seth

Sergeant Noland swiped the tattoo on his wrist across the barracks’ entry panel. The red eye blinked from red to green, unlocking the front door. He silently ushered Seth in, while holding the door open, then following close behind.

The sergeant’s lingering presence did nothing to reassure Seth that for the time being he was safe. He had expected that the soldier had other responsibilities that were far more important than babysitting some teenager.

“When do you plan on leaving campus?” Sergeant Noland asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Seth replied, “I really hadn’t decided, though.”

The sergeant nodded in acknowledgement and accessed the student housing registry for the building. Again, he nodded to himself, then entered the student’s shared sleeping accommodations to which Seth had been assigned.

The space was wide and mostly devoid of life. Five tightly made bunks lined both walls. They stationed two lockers serving as wardrobes on either side of the bunk. Seth shared this sleeping space with the same dwindling batch of military path students since his first year. He was ashamed to admit that though he knew them by sight and by name; he knew nothing else about them.

“Roll call,” the sergeant shouted at the remaining three students, who had been busy quizzing each other on their next and likely final exam for the year. The students jumped to attention, lining up as they were trained to do.

“You all packed up?” the sergeant shouted when he was through confirming their presence by name.

“Yes, Sir!” the students replied.

“Mr. Wright, I didn’t hear you,” the sergeant rounded on him.

“No, Sir!” Seth replied with the same enthusiasm as his alarmed peers.

“Get on with it, then. Stop stinking up the place and put on a set of civies! What are you lot doing in your uniforms at this hour?!” He rounded on the students. “If you’re going to be slobs, get into your civies! We have expectations around here! What’s our motto?”

“Excellence, Sir!” they shouted in unison as Seth packed his bags at breakneck speed.

“God damnit! Don’t they teach you fuck all here? What’s our motto?” He shouted again.

“Striving for excellence, Sir! Excellence begins with you, Sir!”

“What was that?!” He shouted, offended by what he heard. “Mr. Wright! What’s the motto?” He rounded on Seth.

“Excellence begins with me, Sir!” he shouted at the sergeant.

“That’s right. Excellence begins with me. That’s lesson one. That’s always lesson one! Did you idiots forget lesson one?”

“Yes, Sir. No, Sir!” Came the confused chorus. Technically, they were right about the mottos. However, the only motto that mattered in the military path was ‘Excellence begins with me’. Seth felt that if he offered his best and sought constant improvement, he just might survive the war where well over three-quarters of the soldiers were reported dead within their four-year tour. The motto was a promise.

As he was leaving to shower, the sergeant had taken one student’s tablets and started quizzing them for their exam. Push-ups and laps were assigned to those who failed to answer correctly and promptly. The oddity of the situation was going to stick with them, even if they could never piece together the reasons.

Twenty minutes later, Seth wished the shower could have gone on forever. He didn’t take long to clean himself up, he never did, having grown accustomed to getting the job done within ten-minutes, and lingered for a few more quiet minutes in the limited warmth of the hot water. Seth ended his session when the hot water indicator near the taps was seconds from ticking into the blue.

By the time he exited the shower, dried and dressed, Sergeant Noland was waiting at the exit with Seth’s luggage next to him. A kind smile lingered on the hardened man’s face. The smile hadn’t faded when he made eye contact with Seth.

“Time to go, Sport.” Sergeant Noland opened the door, shouldered Seth’s duffle bag and took the carrying case in his free hand.

‘Go?’ Seth wanted to ask, but exited the barrack as commanded. His bunk-mates had seen him, and had heard the order to shower. Not coming out of the shower might not even be noticed for a while.

“You want to say goodbye and draw attention to your midnight get away? You want to answer those questions, Sport?” the sergeant said as he set the luggage down in the back of the buggy, noticing Seth’s reluctance. “We’re headed to the Administration building. You’ll be escorted in person to the capital.” The sergeant grabbed Seth by the shoulder and directed his sight to the eye in the sky that lowered itself just enough to cause the street light to catch its outer casing. “Wave.”

Seth did as he was told. “Every step of the way, you’re being monitored and logged. Every word recorded. Every action: run through the A.I. security system. My reputation is at stake if you go missing, Sport.” The sergeant slapped Seth on the back, the issue was resolved. “Get in and buckle up.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

As they drove into the night, he did as he was told. He could trust the Sergeant, couldn’t he? He didn’t want to believe that his paranoia was more than just a grim fantasy.

“You’re a soldier, right? I mean, still a soldier.”

The sergeant cast a casual sideways glance at Seth and smiled. “The title gave it away, didn’t it?” Sure, it was a stupid question, but…

“Why are there soldiers at the Academy?”

“I’m E.M.I. on loan through Omega Corp. I can’t go into detail, Sport, but I’m just here to do a routine maintenance check on the demon shields. Part of the deal is helping with night patrols. I was catching up with a buddy of mine, Paul, when well… you know. Anyway, I have a bit more authority than the walking suits, only because my creds include actual wartime. Not all of our suits on patrol do. Kind of oversight, if you ask me. But that’s my opinion, and it ain’t worth much.”

Seth knew little about the shields. No one did, except for the scientists at Omega Corp. Once the technology was proven, there were public protests demanding that the technology be made publicly available. Omega Corp is one of the most hated companies of the nation, but without them, there wouldn’t be secured zones. The shield was invisible to most people, but to Seth, the Council’s Academy was encased in a giant, shimmering golden dome.

Seth frowned. The sergeant was trying to confuse the issue, hiding information in layers. He had no time to ask all of his questions, not before getting dropped off at the Administration building. He’d have to choose which topic was the most important to him.

The sergeant was ahead of him, cutting off his questions before they began. “Look, Sport, I don’t have the time for a Q and A. I got to get on with the important stuff. If the powers-that-be want you as a player in this game, you need to learn a few things fast-like. You hear me?” He glanced at Seth to see that he was paying attention.

The sergeant nodded to himself. “Lesson one: don’t announce your leverage.” He paused for emphasis. When he continued, he spoke quickly, trying to compact the important ties of the lesson as succinctly as possible. “This morning you threatened us with filing a complaint when you were released. You did the same thing to the therapist, according to her secretary, which is probably what landed you in this mess.

“You have two things to think about: friend or foe. If you just threatened an ally, which isn’t always obvious by the way, and they have something to lose, you just lost yourself some much needed help. Lucky for you, filing a complaint works for us, but if we were trying to keep things on the D.L. we would have just tossed you to the fates and not thought twice about it.

“Now, what if we were the enemy? Think on that, Sport. What if we were up to something nasty and you just hit on something without really knowing it? What do you think we’d do?”

Seth made to answer, but was promptly shut down. “Doesn’t matter, Sport. The thing is you made it loud and clear that you are a threat. You either have no help, or you just stirred an entire world of problems into your life pot. What’s the lesson, Sport?”

“Don’t announce my leverage. Keep it to myself. Act on it when I’m sure of who my allies are,” Seth said. He felt like the sergeant had disembowelled him. The soldier was right. He got himself into this mess. How long it would last depended on who he had made enemies with.

“Good. Lesson two: Silence is golden.” Again, he paused long enough to let Seth think about the intent behind the rapid-fire lessons. “You were heard, Sport. All the right people heard you. Trust in that, because shit ain’t going to move as fast as you’d like. It never does.

“Problems, especially the big ones, just don’t disappear because you want them to. World don’t work that way. Going around screaming wolf, even if it’s true, just makes you a liability. It gets doors shut. Fast.

“The thing is the bulk of the people who want to hear about it, ain’t worth dealing with. Talkers and complainers mostly. Can’t say I blame them, probably mostly harmless and good people if not more than a little paranoid, and not poor company, if you don’t mind the crazy that comes with it. Entertainment value, worth every penny. But not something you want to stake your reputation on. You hear me, Sport?”

Seth waited to see if he was actually meant to reply. The sergeant winked at him. “Good call, kid. Your job from now on is to listen. You’re looking for your tribe. You’re looking for people who will help you. Doing scream-o matches ain’t going to win over people who can actually help you. Most people don’t give a fuck. They have enough problems in their lives. They don’t need your bullshit adding to their pile. Repeat the lesson, Sport.”

“Specifically, you don’t want me talking about the games. I’ll just sound crazy. Instead, I should listen to people who’ve had similar odd experiences. But if I can’t talk about it, then why would they?”

“Doesn’t matter what it is, Sport. Eventually, they’ll say something. They always do. You will too, but if you get the lesson, you’ll know not to show your leverage.

“Shit, not too much time left! Kay, Sport, last lesson. Pay attention. Finding the right help isn't easy, but you're not alone. You need to focus on your time and energy. You need to listen to what people are saying and what they’re not saying. There are people out there who are supposed to help but don’t, and others who aren’t supposed to but do. You hear me, Sport?”

“You’re talking about the Red Order and Rogue Hunters,” Seth gasped.

The sergeant stopped his buggy in front of the Administration building, got out and collected Seth’s bags. He hadn’t signalled if Seth had answered correctly.

“What about the E.M.I.? Wouldn’t they be able to help me?”

Sergeant Noland rounded on him. “You remember that pile of shit I was telling not to add to? So you think it’s a good idea to re-traumatize a bunch of strangers who are trying to get on with their lives?”

“But they’re my sponsors. And they should know what it’s really like out there! They should want to keep what’s left safe!” Seth shot back.

“Should, Sport, should.” The sergeant stormed into the building with Seth in tow.

The building was dim. Their quick steps echoing in the large empty hall that tied the front of the building to the back. The massive skylights above revealed the strokes of twilight caught in a haze of gold.

“That’s why I need to listen,” Seth said to the sergeant. “To find the vets who will talk, who will help. So I’m not hurting the people who deserve to move on.” He stressed the word deserve, despite the conflicting feelings he fought against. They had served their term. They had every right to move on, to have families and careers. All he had wanted to do was to survive. He hadn’t thought about what came after.

The sergeant unlocked the front door to the Administration building and escorted Seth down the manicured garden steps, passed the sleeping fountain, and down another set of steps to the dark car that waited for him at the rounded driveway.

Sergeant Noland handed Seth his bags when the trunk popped open. “One last thing, Sport,” he said while keeping his voice low. “As for the demon here, you need to keep that to yourself.”

Seth’s heart squeezed in terror, refusing to pump another drop of blood. “I never said anything about a demon…” He hadn’t said the word demon. He had used any other word, never demon. But he knew it to be true.

“Neither did I.”