Kayla’s plans to debate Rose further were forgotten as the class approached their fifteenth week. Thirty-two of the one hundred and eighty-seven recruits that started the course were still present. The instructors ramped up the intensity of the physical training as they entered the dreaded ‘Stress Phase’. The moon was also moving into the winter cycle of its orbit around its host gas giant. The instructors bluntly admitted to the class that they would make full use of the cold weather to increase the pressure on them to quit.
They visited the assault course every week, and what had once been fun for Kayla now became part of the grind, as the instructors pushed them to finish in a shorter time. On the most difficult obstacles, Kayla felt like she was sprinting with her whole body, and she often found herself hanging over a dangerous drop by her fingertips, amazed that her grip hadn’t given out. Fortunately, Rose was the best athlete in the class, and as she gained more confidence with heights, they were able to set the best times together.
Every day began with a surf run. Legs became lead weights as the water added more resistance to every step. Falling into the surf meant the misery of swallowing sea water, and even worse, the added discomfort of wet and sandy clothes. After the run, the instructors had them swim out to a buoy and come back through waves made violent by stronger winds.
This was followed by a PT session on the beach, and if any of the recruits failed the required number of repetitions, the entire class would have to repeat the routine. Kayla moved as best she could, though she was shivering in cotton shorts and a t-shirt made crusty by salt water and sand. Like the others, she developed painful rashes across her body, which never fully healed. A few girls were even hospitalized with infections, to be medically rolled back to the start of the course.
“Recruit Djallen,” called an instructor one day, as the recruits lay on their backs and tried to do flutter kicks with trembling legs. “Don’t you think you’d be more suited to a career as a professional dancer? Fame, adoration money—a luxury hotel every night?”
Kayla looked over to see Rose’s face scrunched in pain.
“No, instructor Qadir,” Rose said in a hoarse voice. “If I was a dancer, I would be bored out of my mind.”
“Why’s that recruit?”
“Where would I get the chance to get wet and sandy, and freezing cold, instructor?”
Kayla felt raw enthusiasm block out the cold. “You tell her, Rose!” she yelled, and the rest of the class cheered their agreement.
She felt like she existed in a state of permanent exhaustion. That morning, they had been woken at two a.m. to start a long march into the hills. When they got back to camp for breakfast, the day had continued like any other, but the instructors warned there would be a cleaning inspection. These were more frequent, and much harder to pass. Whenever the girls changed from PT gear into their more comfortable classroom clothes, sand and dirt got everywhere.
Kayla and her cabin mates had spent an hour struggling to stay awake as they tried to get every inch of the cabin spotlessly clean. The instructors tolerated nothing less than perfection. Fortunately, the whole class passed, and, as a reward, were taken out for more PT. Now, in the afternoon, they were getting covered in sand all over again.
Qadir ordered the recruits to flip over to do pushups. As they struggled through the new exercise, Kayla’s arms went numb, and she struggled to lift herself.
Qadir approached her. “You can do better than this Barnes—I know you can. Your mind wants to quit, but your body will go on forever if you let it.”
“Yes, instructor,” Kayla gasped. The instructors could be as encouraging as they were cruel.
“How do you eat an elephant?” Qadir prompted.
“One bite at a time,” Kayla replied, completing the oft repeated phrase.
“One more push up, then.”
Kayla groaned and strained, but she didn’t move.
“I don’t care if you have to scream, or yell!” Qadir said. “Whatever you have to do—get back up!”
Kayla let out a deep primal scream and felt a rage building. Adrenaline flooded her system and somehow, she began to rise. She hit the top and held it for a second, before collapsing into the sand.
They moved on to burpees, and Kayla heard the white-hot fury of another instructor harassing Ursula Derrick for sloppy form. She ignored the noise and focused on her own movements. Drop into pushup position, kick the legs out, then hop back up and jump, then repeat. There was nothing else she needed to think about.
Ursula collapsed in tears. “Instructor, I wish to voluntarily withdraw,” the miserable voice said once she had calmed down.
“Are you sure recruit?” The silence that followed was punctuated only by sobs. “Are you sure?” the instructor had to repeat.
“Y-Yes, instructor.”
Kalya wanted to block the voice from her mind. It felt like nails on a chalkboard. How could someone get this far in the training and decide to quit?
“Okay, come over here and take a seat,” the instructor said kindly. “Wrap this towel around your shoulders. In a minute I’ll take you back for a shower. Do you want a hot chocolate?”
“Yes please, instructor.”
The instructor smiled warmly. “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”
Kayla shook her head. The sweet and cuddly act the instructors gave to quitters had to be another mind game. It did not seem possible that they had a human side.
Stolen story; please report.
Ursula was led away, refusing to make eye contact with the cabinmates she left behind. She had been tough, and dependable, but Kayla had watched more than a few girls she had respected cry for an hour straight before making the decision to quit. At first it had been harrowing. Now she felt nothing. Ursula didn’t exist anymore.
“Twenty more Barnes,” Qadir snapped. “Or am I interrupting your break?”
“No instructor,” Kayla said, and dropped back down for another repetition.
Days later, the class was taken out of the camp on an overnight hike. For two days they marched in the hills, stopping only for a few hours of sleep. Kayla and the other girls returned to camp at midnight, almost sleepwalking. At six a.m. they awoke reluctantly to banging on their cabin doors, and an impromptu room inspection, which they all failed.
By way of punishment, they were to complete a surf run in the rain. Kayla struggled through the water and fantasized that the world was getting darker, until she suddenly woke up in heaven after having drowned. Then she was being judged by a jury of angels. Thandi was testifying to her status as a heathen as she flashed Kayla an unforgiving look from the witness stand. Rose yelled from the benches that she was a good-for-nothing, and Kayla was condemned to hell.
She caught herself stumbling in the waves, on the verge of passing out. A hand grabbed her arm and Thandi pulled her upright.
“Keep moving,” she snapped, a look of alarm on her face.
Kayla shook herself and forced the fantasies out of her mind. Now was not the time for daydreaming.
The smell of fresh coffee entered her nostrils. A group of instructors had set up a makeshift canopy on the beach, with a stove. Sheltered from the weather, they joked and laughed like they were having a nice day out on the beach. As the class struggled past them, instructor McKinnon called them over.
Kayla lined up with the others just short of the protection of the canopy. She waited, shivering with cold, while water streamed down her face. McKinnon launched into a lecture on the class’s failed room inspections. Did they think they were all at a holiday resort? Had they grown arrogant now that so many recruits had quit while they remained? Tidy cabins, she reminded them, were a camp standard, to be upheld at all times.
Kayla let the words drift past as she felt the seductive heat of the stove just beyond her reach. A sniff revealed the delicious flavor of the brew, and she closed her eyes to savor the moment. One day, in the distant future, she would be a happy person who enjoyed nice things, but until then, she was content to confront impossible challenges.
“You ladies enjoying your run?” McKinnon asked when she had finished her speech.
“Yes, instructor!” the girls called in unison.
“Do you don’t want to stop for some coffee?”
“No, instructor!”
“All right, carry on.”
The shaking girls turned and ran back into the surf zone.
“Intense pain and misery,” Thandi gasped as they ran, “is a camp standard.”
Kayla chuckled. In her weakened state, even the clumsiest joke from a fellow recruit brought warmth to her heart.
Susaki caught up with them during the run to give them a ‘morale boost’. “There is no light at the end of this tunnel,” her relentless voice droned on. “Valkyrie works only in shadow. You will not be famous or praised or remembered. This test is not going to end; it will be your day-to-day in the organization. Recruit Khawula, you just want to look cool waving guns around. Admit it and make life easy for yourself.”
Thandi shook her head, but was panting too hard to do more than cough out a weak “No.”
Kayla’s own world had narrowed to a matter of hours. When she had woken up that morning, she had no future beyond the end of the surf run, and breakfast. After breakfast, her goal became lunch. Then dinner.
After evening PT, Thandi, Christie and Chisom returned to their cabin to sleep, but Kayla didn’t want them to hear her crying. She snuck out and went to sit, gasping and trembling, by the statue of Sergeant Reckless, the camp mascot. The sight of the horse, caught in motion as it climbed with steely determination, brought her great comfort.
As she usually did in such moments, Kayla took the time to recall the names of colonists killed by animal attacks. She couldn’t finish half the list, but she never forgot that she would rather die than fail them.
After she returned to her bed, she dreamed she was on a hilltop in a long-forgotten battle. Thunder raged all around her, and in a brief flash of light, she saw the four-legged silhouette, loaded down with a heavy pack, pushing alone up the side of a hill. The horse paused for a moment on shaking legs, then put its head down and kept going into the darkness.
The next morning, Kayla met up with Rose as they headed for the beach. Her gut tensed with the usual anxiety she had from seeing her rival, but Rose was upbeat.
“Nearly there, hey?” Rose said. “You must be looking forward to graduation.”
“You think I’m going to make it?” Kayla asked in surprise.
“Of course. We all are.”
Kayla blinked. “Okay then.” What was she supposed to say to such absurd optimism?
They lined up to start another surf run. Christie was stone-faced. She had been setting slower and slower run times, and there was some concern that she would get another negative performance review. Enough bad reviews meant getting kicked out.
Rose grabbed her shoulder. “You’ve got this one, Chris—crush it.”
Christie smiled.
Once the ordeal was over, Kayla saw the instructor give Christie a thumbs up—pass.
At lunch, Brielle was talking about quitting.
“You’re one of the strongest girls here,” Rose said in a reassuring voice. “You know you can handle it.”
Brielle wiped away tears. “They just keep telling us that this is only the beginning—that the Rangers will be even harder. I don’t think I can do this forever.”
Rose shook her head. “Why do you need to think about tomorrow? You only need to get through today.”
Brielle nodded, but the sobbing continued.
“Remember when you told me that story about your friend Cassy, who got hit by a car and got a prosthetic leg, but trained super hard, and now she’s a college para-athlete? I found that really inspirational.”
Brielle sniffed. “I can’t believe you remember that after all we’ve been through.”
“Just think how proud she’ll be of you,” Rose insisted.
Brielle nodded and thanked Rose for the encouragement. Two days later, she quit. Kayla watched her walk away from the parade ground; eyes fixed downward as a glum-looking Rose stared after her.
Thandi approached her. “You okay?” she asked.
Rose looked around and smiled. “I’m good. How are you doing?”
“The average passing class is fifteen recruits,” said Thandi. “There are twenty-five of us… do the math.”
Rose shrugged. “I see no reason to be as miserable as you are. Fifteen is a statistical average—no reason there can’t be a lot more in one class than another.”
“The Miss Sunshine act is so old. You’re just carrying an extra burden you don’t need. Give it a rest already.”
“Make me.”
Thandi crossed her arms and yawned. “If I wasn’t so tired, I’d give it a try.”
Kayla sighed. Though she dreaded another argument with Rose, she had to say what was on her mind. “I understand you’re trying to be encouraging, Rose,” she began, “and out in the real world, that would be really awesome of you, but here it is not helpful.”
Rose frowned. “Encouraging people to keep going isn’t helpful?”
“There’s encouragement, then there’s pushing,” Kayla said. “I’m happy Brielle quit. She obviously didn’t want to be here, and it’s better for everyone that she admitted that.”
“That’s kind of selfish.”
“Absolutely. I do not want to be in a bad situation and have to rely on someone that can’t get through the day without a rousing speech by the morale officer. And neither should you. Brielle’s got her whole life ahead of her—I hope she lives it to the fullest. But she didn’t belong here, and she proved it.”
Rose bristled. “If she had just believed in herself a bit more, she might have made it. That she didn’t is tragic.”
Kayla glared at her. “Death is tragic,” she said firmly.
“Well,” Rose said in a bitter voice, “I’m so glad I have you here to lecture away my ignorance.”
“It’s not my fault your society taught you some bad lessons.”