Christie watched from her seat as an instructor activated the classroom’s presentation screen. A painting appeared before the recruits, who studied it without reacting. Against the background of a tall pillar of rock, a huddle of Red-coated soldiers desperately aimed their rifles. Dead comrades lay at their feet, together with wounded men who raised imploring arms. Around them crowded a horde of naked warriors armed with spears, wooden shields, and fierce expressions of murderous intent.
Christie shifted in her seat and wondered again whether she was making the right decision by staying the course. Throughout their history lessons, the instructors had shown the recruits nothing but disaster and bloodshed.
The instructor addressed the class. “Major General Lord Chelmsford led the British when they camped at the foot of Mount Isandlwana in the Zulu kingdom in 1879.”
At an adjacent desk, Thandi was on the edge of her seat. She glanced at Christie, no doubt hoping to revel smugly in the victory. Christie returned her attention to her pad and began taking notes.
“Unfortunately,” the instructor continued, “Chelmsford’s military experience left a lot to be desired, having bought his commission before the government banned the practice.”
Thandi raised her hand. “Instructor, what does it mean to ‘buy’ a commission?”
“Wealthy individuals could pay money to receive the rank of an officer in a particular regiment, allowing them to skip any kind of selection, training, or promotion by merit.”
Thandi’s eyes went wide. “That’s insane. Christie, isn’t that insane?”
Christie rolled her eyes. “Yes, Thandi. It is indeed a terrible way to run an army.”
“How could the British rulers allow that to happen?” Thandi pressed.
“Let’s stick to the battle, please recruit,” the instructor said. “Once Chelmsford invaded Zulu territory, he camped at the foot of this mountain. Now, if we look at the map we can see how the Zulu’s commander, or ‘inDuna’, Ntshingwayo Khoza, expertly drew Chelmsford away from his poorly protected base. Khoza used fast scouting parties and fake intelligence provided by locals to lead the British General east to the Mangeni Valley. The lightly armed impis could travel three times faster than the Imperial troops, and while the main Zulu army secretly positioned itself, their scouts managed to lure their enemy several miles away from the camp.
“Splitting Chelmsford’s forces,” Thandi observed.
“Exactly.” The instructor gave a curt nod towards Thandi. “In the meantime, Chelmsford had not given any order to the camp at Isandlwana to form defenses, and the camp’s commander, Lieutenant Colonel Pulleine, also did not take any initiative in that regard. Class?”
“You didn’t need an order, jackass,” Kayla declared.
“Eloquent as always, recruit Barnes,” the instructor said. “In fact, accounts suggest that Pulleine was afraid to give the order because he feared the response he would provoke from Chelmsford. The British general already admonished Pulleine for slow progress in bringing supplies to the camp. This toxic leadership is a perfect demonstration of the weakness of too centralized a command structure. When officers are not encouraged to think for themselves, and the senior commander misses important details, disaster follows.
“Remember, class, it starts with the individual. A commander may draw up a plan, but every soldier has the responsibility to question orders that don’t make sense. So, back to the battle. With Chelmsford looking in the wrong direction, Ntshingwayo marched his forces overnight to close with the unprepared camp. They attacked the next morning.”
The instructor described the battle in detail. Her voice remained dispassionate as she explained how the Zulus were too many for the British defender’s rifle fire, surrounding them in small, isolated groups and stabbing them to death with their Assegai spears. British soldiers and officers alike lost their minds with terror, running to hide in their tents only to be butchered there.
A group of camp followers and soldiers escaped to the south, traversing a gorge and a river, even as the Zulus harassed their retreat, shooting with muskets until bodies floated away in the currents.
Christie kept scribbling notes as she listened to the catastrophic destruction unfold. An old quote describing British soldiers as ‘lions led by lambs’ crossed her mind. Which one was she?
“All told, the British lost the entire column—nearly fifteen hundred men,” the instructor finished.
“How could they be so stupid?” Thandi said, almost to herself.
The instructor glared at her. “Recruit Khawula, I expect comments to be constructive and insightful.”
Christie turned to watch as the flustered Thandi hesitated, apparently unable to speak.
“But what did they think was going to happen?” she said eventually. “They were going to just walk around Zulu territory while the poor dumb natives would cower in their tents? How can a people get so unbelievably arrogant?”
Christie blinked. Good question.
The instructor smiled and thumbed a switch. The display changed to a movie poster, showing a British soldier in a spotless uniform bayonetting a shirtless warrior.
“Let me remind you,” she said, “that the Zulu army made a very similar mistake later that same day, when Prince Dabulamanzi led his Impis in an assault against a fortified position, losing hundreds of his men in defeat.”
Thandi raised her hands in deference. “Yes, okay, there can always be incompetence. But the Zulus were armed with wooden spears and hide shields, fighting the most technologically advanced army in the world. The British,” she glanced at Christie, “had no excuse. They should not have been defeated like that!”
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“Why do you keep looking at me, exactly?” Christie asked.
“You don’t seem very concerned.”
“I am concerned; that’s why I’m taking notes.”
“Hundreds of British soldiers were killed because of stupidity,” Thandi snapped. “I’d have thought you’d be a bit less academic about it.”
Confused by the outburst, Christie said nothing. Why was she so angry?
As they left the class, Rose caught up to her. “That was quite a history lesson, wasn’t it?”
Christie smiled. “Yes, a wonderful little reminder before Stress Phase begins next week. Struggle through hell so you can enjoy the possibility of dying horribly.”
“It makes more sense to me than my previous life,” Rose said. “With the modeling and dancing, it was ‘struggle through hell so you can be perfect’. I didn’t really know what that meant.”
“That is why I skipped ballet classes for a life of reading. Of course, I wasn’t turning down unimaginable fame and wealth by doing so.”
Rose smiled sheepishly. “It’s very surreal for me. I thought my biggest concern was going to be how my next haircut would be received by the galaxy at large. ‘Don’t get everyone killed’ feels easier to deal with, in some respects.”
“Perhaps we should trade lives?”
Rose laughed. “It’s yours if you really want it. I prefer this.”
Christie couldn’t name many celebrities who were prepared to give up everything for a life of constant exhaustion and danger. “That’s rather astonishing.”
“I like the girls here. And I believe this is what I was meant for.”
“Are you sure?” Christie said. “There’s a certain young lady who is adamant that you’re an enemy infiltrator.”
Rose gave a curt nod, while her eyes hinted at a deep sadness. “We did have a difficult relationship. Now that I look back on it, I think some of the worst facets of both our cultures were clashing through us. I wish I had understood why before, but… I mean, we were kids, for god’s sake.”
“And yet I would argue that those same facets allow both of you to thrive here.”
“She’s always terrified me a little. But after these history lessons… well, I can say I’m glad she’s here. I just need to figure out how to deal with her.”
“Won’t you join us for lunch?” Christie asked.
“I suppose I should get it over with, yes.”
Christie winced as Kayla slapped her tray down on their table, flinging droplets of juice into the air.
“Rose,” Kayla said, “how come you like Christie so much? She’s kind of a drag.”
“You know, I offered to move out of your cabin,” Christie said, “but then you would have nobody washing your clothes for you.”
“Okay.” Kayla held up a finger. “The non-sport clothes do not need to be washed every single day. You’re sometimes a clean freak.”
Thandi coughed. “You once allowed a week to pass—”
“So Rose,” Kayla said quickly, “I suppose you must be missing all those dumb operas you used to go to?”
Rose smiled in embarrassment. “I suppose so. And yourself, missing the scent of fresh excrement?”
Kayla laughed. “Of course! Can you really get comfortable if the smell of crap isn’t in the air?”
Christie snorted. “If I had to choose between an opera house, and your proposal, Kayla—”
“Farms are fun places,” Kayla said. “You girls don’t know what you’re missing, living up your Helvet life.”
The table fell silent. Christie stared at her food. The divide between herself, Rose, and colonists like Kayla and Thandi was obviously real, even if she wished it wasn’t. She sighed and looked up. “I suppose that life in the core worlds could be considered sheltered by many outside the League’s protective boundary.”
Kayla nodded. “That’s right. Sheltered.”
Christie narrowed her eyes. “Of course, it’s not all fun and games when everyone around you is watching for the slightest crack in the polish.”
“One silly comment out of place,” Rose said, “and they tell everyone you know. And don’t drop it for years.”
“Almost like they take pleasure in throwing people to the wolves,” Christie said.
Rose nodded. “Because they’re happy it’s not them.”
“Indeed, and that has always been the true font of human cruelty. But why don’t you tell us, Miss Barnes?” Christie stared pointedly at Kayla. “Aren’t you the aristocrat of this course, what with your special association to a true… what’s the term? Operator?”
“Oh, come on,” Kayla looked glum. “Don’t bring that up. Urtiga just feels sorry for me because my dad was killed.”
Rose’s face fell, and she refused to meet Kayla’s eyes.
“Even so,” Christie continued, “she’s positively a celebrity in this crowd.”
“Meaning I will get my ass kicked if I start name dropping her or letting it inflate my ego.”
“Well, anyway. It seems that every planet has been a bit sheltered if the instructors are telling us the truth about Valkyrie.”
“Except Caldera,” Kayla said. “The dangerous animals were clearly created by some kind of Jotnar device.”
Thandi put a hand on Kayla’s shoulder. “It’s not a competition,” she said sternly.
“If that’s true,” Thandi said, “I don’t understand why Valkyrie hasn’t been able to stop them.”
“Well, Valkyrie thinks they were created by chemical or radiation fallout thousands of years ago and are now a species like any other,” Kayla said. “But I don’t buy that explanation. Whoever is out there that is still working for the Jotnar is clearly up to something.”
“But how can Valkyrie have no idea about that if they’ve been fighting this… group for thousands of years?” Thandi said.
Kayla shrugged. “Maybe they do? Maybe it’s just way above our level as lowly recruits, or even above Urtiga and Zhang’s level, too. I bet this organization is keeping all kinds of big secrets.”
Rose looked up from her food, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry? Did you say thousands of years?”
Kayla nodded and explained what they had concluded about the nature of Valkyrie’s origins; that they had developed from humans who worked with the Jotnar in the ancient past. “And we know that the Helvetic League is a tool of the Jotnar,” she finished.
Christie sighed and suppressed the temptation to both smack the girl and yell at her to stop thinking like a child. “No Kayla, that is not what we concluded. We learned that one ancient philosopher—probably influenced by the Jotnar—kick started a destructive form of governance. We still have thousands of years of history to get through to see what the implications are for today’s problems.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but come on, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Rose took a deep breath. “I can agree that the League has a lot of flaws, but it is still a force for good.”
“I’m pretty sure they’re being manipulated by aliens to enslave humanity,” Kayla said.
Rose stared at her. “You cannot be serious. It is the civilization that literally allowed people to be out among the stars in the first place.”
“The colonies were built by people escaping that civilization.”
Rose’s face reddened. “So, a colony owes nothing at all to the generations of scientists, businessmen and politicians that developed infrastructure, that trained—”
“Hey, we built everything with our own two hands, and you would know that if you—”
“Kayla, lower your voice,” Thandi said and placed a hand on her arm. She looked around at the other recruits in the cafeteria that were beginning to throw them annoyed looks. “Lunch time is supposed to be a break for everyone.”
“I have a suggestion,” Christie said, before Kayla could talk again. “After Stress Phase, I will ask Chisom if she would be happy to swap with Rose in our cabin, and we can look at Plato together. Maybe that will help you both figure things out.”
“Terrific,” Thandi said with heavy sarcasm. “We’ll never sleep again with these two arguing all night.”
They ate in silence until Kayla spoke. “I wish they would serve burgers again—I’ve been dreaming of them, actually.”
Christie grinned mischievously. “I can tell, because you drool a little in your sleep.”
“That’s not true!” Kayla complained. “You’re such an ass sometimes, Chris.”
“You don’t drool, Kayla,” said Thandi.
“Thank you—my one true friend.”
“Christie teases you because she hates wiping your meal off her face whenever you eat. Something we all have to suffer, including Rose, I see.”
Rose dropped her hand away and smiled politely.