---Simone’s perspective---
---Sunday, 24th of December, 2682 Terran Calendar---
---Southern England---
“You wanted to see me, Ma’am?” says the pretty redhead in her melodic, Scottish accented English, as she pokes her head around the door to my office.
“Yes… come in and sit down, Reid.” I answer, looking up from my work.
She walks across the room and takes a seat in front of my desk.
Fixing her with both my natural and bionic eyes, I plant my elbows in front of me and tent my fingers before saying “It’s about your survival excursion, Reid…”
“What about it, Ma’am?”
“In light of the recent incident, I’m willin’ to reverse my decision and send you to the Amazon with Pvt Everard, if you want.”
She gives a wry smile “You going soft on me now, Ma’am?”
“I’m bein’ considerate, Private… Don’t throw it back in my face!” I say, allowing a little danger into my voice.
Her back stiffens as she says “No, Ma’am… I… err… I just don’t really understand the reason, Ma’am.”
Normally, I’d say that it isn’t my job to explain myself to Privates but, in this case “What happened to you was a terrible injustice… A man like that shoulda been weeded out in the psych eval stage and deemed unfit for service… I apologise on the Military’s behalf that that was allowed to happen… I don’t want to tell you how to feel but… it would be understandable if you were a bit apprehensive about bein’ secluded for five days with a tall, muscular man… I know it weren’t Taylor who attacked you, I know that he was the one that saved you… but phobias ain’t necessarily rational. It would be needlessly cruel to send a newfound androphobe on a five day survival mission with a man. Addition’ly, since the incident, you’ve been workin’ better with Taylor… you obviously still don’t actually like the guy… but you’ve at least been able to tolerate him. I’ve not seen or heard about anything worse than a little bickering between you two, since then… So, your choice, go with Pvt Taylor to Interior Sahul… or go to the Amazon with Private Everard?… Neither of ’em have to know that I ever made you this offer, Reid…”
Her mouth twists as she stares at the ceiling, considering my proposal.
“I appreciate it, Ma’am… but I think I’d like to refuse.”
Surprised, I say “Oh, really?… Why’s that, Reid?”
“I think it might cause a little strife in my dorm if Private Bailey found out I was paired with her girlfriend for the survival excursion. Don’t want to get myself in the middle of a jealous lovers’ spat, Ma’am(!)”
“OK, what about pairing you with another female Private? Smith? Willoughby? LeClerc?”
She smiles and shakes her head “I really appreciate it, Ma’am… but it’s fine! I’ve got no apprehension about Taylor’s intentions and, to be honest, I think it’d feel like giving up to back out now! Like I’d lost to him… Also, I don’t like the guy but even I can see that being paired with him is good for my training… I’m trying harder than I would otherwise, learning things that I wouldn’t otherwise… I think I want to stick with Taylor for the excursion, Ma’am.”
Really shocked by the girl’s refusal (though not quite so shocked at the part that stubbornness seems to have played in her reasoning) I say “Well… Alright then, noted! You’re free to go, Private.” waving to the door and turning my head back to my desk.
She gets up and begins to leave.
She stops at the door and says “Ma’am…?”
“Yes, Private?”
A broad grin breaks over her face as she wishes me “Merry Christmas, Ma’am!”
Mirthfully, I say “Get outta here, Private!”
She disappears, shutting my door behind her.
---Oskar’s perspective---
---Sunday, 31st of December, 2682 Terran Calendar---
---Interior Sahul---
Just where I always wanted to spend a New Years Eve, Day and 18th birthday: Scorching, in one of Earth’s few remaining desert ecoreserves with a girl who hates me for no reason(!)
She’s not been as bad since what happened on our watch night… but still takes almost every opportunity to needle me and get under my skin!
I’m honestly a little shocked that Sands didn’t offer her the opportunity to do this excursion with a girl after what happened…
Making Reid spend the best part of a week with a man she recently watched beat her attempted rapist more than half to death seems a little harsh!
I guess that’s an Army Drill Sergeant, for you… Can’t get soft on us or we might lose our respect for her!
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The capsule comes down on a patch of land, fairly indistinguishable from that that we’ve flown over for the past five minutes, since it passed from the agricultural zone into the Great Sandy Desert Reserve, hot and scrubby.
The two of us step out of the cool, airconditioned capsule, through a billowing wall of heat and onto the coarse, red sand.
Between us, we’re carrying only eight objects, other than the clothes on our backs and the tracking devices sewn into them: a knife each, an empty canteen each, a compass each, a single plastic sheet for water purification and a single emergency recall beacon to be used in case of life-threatening emergency.
Activating the beacon is an automatic failure of the survival training.
I allowed Reid to be the one to take it, I didn’t say anything… just took a knife, a canteen and a compass and left it on the table for her to pick up.
I would never try anything on anyone (least of all her) but, after what happened with Forest, I thought it was best not to put myself in the position where I might be able to hold the ability for her to call for help hostage!
The military capsule takes off and begins accelerating far faster than it would if it were anywhere near a city.
I see a vapour cone form in its wake and, a few seconds later, hear the boom of it exceeding Mach 1.
Not really having the time to spare to watch it disappear over the horizon, I turn to Reid and placidly say “Let’s find somewhere to take shelter. It will be midday in a few hours and we’ll get sunburned if we’re out of the shade.”
She gives no answer but a curt nod before walking off.
---Esme’s perspective---
I’m walking along behind the tall, dark haired boy… really trying to find something to look at or think about besides his broad shoulders, thick arms and shapely arse.
He is a pompous ass but damn if he doesn’t have a rockin’ bod(!)
“You know, dude… we could, I don’t know, chat…?” I say, looking out to the landscape to my left, so as not to have to look forward.
“What would we talk about, Reid?” he asks, flatly, without turning to look at me.
“Well… I don’t know… we’re gonna be alone together until the morning of the 4th… Gonna be mighty awkward if we don’t say a word to eachother the whole time…!”
“We can talk when we need to communicate regarding matters of survival… I don’t know why you would want to talk to me otherwise…”
“Oh, nooooo… Wouldn’t want to distract yourself from becoming the perfect little soldier(!)”
He doesn’t respond to that except to say “There’s a pool over there… we should collect some water…”
He steers us in the direction he just pointed where, I presume, the water is, as I can’t see over the brush like he can.
“Be careful at the water’s edge… there may be crocodiles in it…” he says, as we come out onto the shore of a small lake.
I roll my eyes as I feel it’d be so easy to spot crocs in the crystal clear water that there’s no need to say it!
He scans the water as we approach.
Crouching down, he dips a finger in and brings it to his mouth.
“Tastes fine… but we should purify it in a solar still anyway, just to be sure.”
“Oh, lord forbid we deviate from the book even slightly(!)” I say, sarcastically, bending down to fill up my flask.
Ignoring me, he caps off his own flask before clipping it back to his belt.
We walk on for some time.
“There’s a cliff up there which might be a good place to find a cave to hide in… you know, if sheltering in caves is acceptable to you and not forbidden by some obscure part of the survival manual that only you’ve read…(?)”
Taylor stops dead…
I might have walked into him if I weren’t cutting him such a wide berth.
He turns to look at me, his normally placid face frighteningly angry.
“What is your problem with me, Reid!?… As far as I’m aware, all I’ve done is exist near you?!… Were we sworn rivals in a past life and you’re the only one that remembers it(?!)… Am I the last descendant of a Christian witchhunter who tried to burn you alive in the 16th Century(?!)… I struggle to believe that this could possibly be explained just by you being jealous of how much better I am at soldiery than you! Especially because you don’t exactly make a secret of your contempt for all things military!… So?… Let’s have it!… Why!?”
Utterly taken aback by the outburst, I’m stunned into silence for a few moments as my mouth flaps open and closed, failing to find any words.
“You… you showed up early…” I manage, eventually, having just realised, the moment before I said it, how feeble a reason it sounds.
Looking utterly confused he answers “That’s IT?! You hate me for being here when you think I don’t have to be?! Just for that!?!?!?”
“It’s what my mam and dad did, alright!!!” I shout, angrily and defensively “They dumped me off at an orphanage and fucked off down the recruitment office to volunteer to serve before they’d been drafted! They were both dead within months of when they finished their training because the UTC had deemed them little more than fodder for the meatgrinder that was holding the Cordon at bay!… When I got the news, I swore that I was going to live every second of my life that I could!… Not like you! You waltzed into the military like you’ve been preparing for it since the War started! Like you’ve been living in bootcamp since before you hit puberty!… Posh, little pretentious Englishboy who acted like he had no greater aspiration than being cannonfodder! ‘I didn’t believe I would make a good Officer, Ma’am!’…” I imitate his accent and wobble my head pompously “…Looking down on the rest of us who aren’t here by choice! You just got right under my skin!… Did you not have any friends, any family who might’ve wanted to spend the last months before you got drafted with you?!”
He clenches his jaw, his lips pursed above his sharp chin.
“My mother died last Summer…” he says, flatly “…two months later, my father hanged himself… I was the one who discovered his body… I had nothing to stay in Bankland for after that… so I enlisted.”
Guilt punches me in the stomach as he points out what should have been obvious… he had his reasons and they were none of my business…
“I’m sorry, Taylor… I…”
“I’m also not English… I’m a Doggerlander… my father was a Frisian, my mother was Scottish, same as you…” he says, sternly.
Dogger island is, in my view, basically just an extension of England… but I don’t say that, instead answering “You… uhm… you sound quite English…?” lamely.
“Aye! An whin Ah speik Scots, Ah sound Scots!” he answers in flawless Lallans with a Fifer accent that, presumably, matches his mum’s.
“I’m… sorry… Taylor…” I say, my face hot with shame.
“Words are fairly cheap, Reid… I don’t want your apologies… I want you to lay off!”
I nod, not meeting his eyes and quietly answer “Aye… I’ll lay off, Taylor…”
“Good…” he says, turning to resume walking “…Now, as you said, I think we should look for caves in the base of that cl-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”
His agonised scream terrifies me more than the long, thin tube of scaley, brown flesh that just lunged from the bush, sinking its teeth into his ankle.