2066 - The Academy

The last day of November began as a typical morning for General Howard—which is to say, he spent hours engaged in a seemingly endless litany of meetings and appeared perpetually annoyed with his office staff.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

He was far more stressed than he’d ever admit and secretly feared that his insecurities were on full display, so he went about the day venting his frustrations the only way he knew—loudly.

He was an alumnus of the very same institute he now commanded, and the office where he’d been called for disciplinary meetings as a cadet was now his, so he viewed it as his God-given right to yell in there as he pleased. He even did it while he was alone, sometimes. The first few times it happened, his staff cracked the door open to see why he was in there shouting at nothing and no one, but as time went on they’d grown accustomed to it and stopped inquiring.

And that office was where he found himself that very afternoon as he sat down at his desk for the seventh of eleven meetings on his schedule.

He was already flustered, and even more so at this one. It was simply listed as an “impromptu appointment,” meaning this was an unannounced visitor his staff had wedged into whatever free time he had available—and today, that was a thirty-minute slot usually reserved for his afternoon tea. He was particularly fond of Earl Gray, which lately he’d taken to spiking with a heavy touch of whisky.

He made that cup anyway, though, and sat down to enjoy it for whatever time he had, but even this was denied him, as he was interrupted when his aide poked his head inside the room.

“General Howard, Sir, your next appointment is here. They’re a bit early. Should I send them in?”

“No, toss them out with the rubbish. Of course, send them in!”

“Yes Sir, but . . . I thought I’d warn you, this one’s different—”

“Colonel Ward, I selected you for this position over many other qualified applicants because I thought you were intelligent. Now, are you going to do your job, or am I going to have to do it for you?”

“Of course not, Sir,” Colonel Ward said as he hastily retreated from the room. General Howard watched him leave, then shook his head and looked away.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered as he downed the entire teacup in one go.

Impromptu appointments were his least favorite, by far. This was the domain of those who felt entitled to his time—bureaucrats from Headquarters, defense contractors, foreign dignitaries, retired generals seeking scholarships for their grandchildren, and those of that sort.

But Colonel Ward was right. That wasn’t who’d come here today, and General Howard nearly choked on his tea when his visitor addressed him from the doorway.

“Good afternoon, Sir.”

He knew that voice. It was one he’d never expected to hear again, and his face reflected as much.

“David, what are you doing here?” he asked.

The young man standing before him was a far cry from the naive cadet who’d entered the Academy nearly two years ago. David looked like any other civilian now—he wasn’t standing at attention, he didn’t salute, and he wasn’t in uniform. He simply leaned against the doorframe as if he’d come to have a conversation.

He’d celebrated his nineteenth birthday in prison, and while he still looked every bit the teenager he was, there was something tired to his appearance now—the deep kind of exhaustion that permeates to one’s bones and becomes an inherent trait. There were dark circles beneath his eyes which hadn’t been there before, and his expression was that of one who’d grown old before their time. Prison had put some years on him, and he seemed to have aged a decade in a matter of months.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Howard had seen this type of rapid transformation before, but he usually associated it with combat veterans, which David was not. Still, though, the visible signs of what had happened to this young man were striking. As they stared at each other, recollections of the last time they’d spoken in this office flooded back, and Howard sighed at the memory. Words had failed him then, and they failed him now.

He was spared the task of coming up with something to say, though, because David spoke first.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Sir,” he said. “I know you’re busy, and I appreciate it.”

He sounded different, too. There was thoughtfulness and wisdom behind those words which hadn’t been there before. This was a young man who’d fully come into the knowledge of good and evil, sampling its delights and feeling its terrors.

“David, why are you here?” Howard asked again, in a more measured way, now. His tone was sympathetic, conveying every emotion yet none at the same time.

But he already knew. It wasn’t difficult to determine David’s motive for coming here today, just a few weeks from the start of a new term, nor was it hard to guess what he was going to ask for.

Howard already dreaded this conversation because he knew what he’d have to say. A boring meeting was one thing, but this was quite another, and he’d take the drudgery any day.

David shrugged. “I’d like to ask you something, Sir, if you don’t mind.”

Howard hesitated, then motioned toward one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat, then.”

David crossed the room and sat down, and a few more seconds passed.

“Well?” Howard asked.

David stared at him from across the desk and spoke with unwavering confidence. “I’d like a second chance.”

Howard closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love nothing more than to grant that request, but you were expelled for a reason. It may not be a reason I agree with, but rules are rules, and it’s my job to enforce them.”

“I’m aware,” David replied. “I respect that, and I know you were just doing your job. I’m not asking you to erase my record or retroactively overturn my sentence. I’d just like one more opportunity to prove myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Howard said. “You know I’d re-admit you if I could. You were one of our best, and if you hadn’t been expelled, you’d likely have graduated at the top of your class, or close to it. But what I think is irrelevant. You not only broke the rules, you broke the law. I may not agree with such directives, but as I said, it’s my duty to uphold them.”

David’s expression indicated he’d fully anticipated this response. “I understand, Sir.”

Howard sighed. “You knew what I was going to say before you came here, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sir, I did.”

“Why bother, then?”

“Because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try,” David replied. “But also, there was this.”

He fumbled around in his bag, retrieved a worn paperback, and placed it on the desk in front of them.

Howard stared at it. “What did I tell you, the last time we spoke? That’s yours now, and I gave it to you to keep.”

“Yes, Sir, and I’d planned to, but it’s become a reminder of a life I can’t have, so I’m returning it. I don’t want it in my possession.”

Howard sighed. “The same can be said for me, now. That was a gift, and I never expected it back.”

They were both silent as they scrutinized the book.

“It seems we’ve created a cursed object, haven’t we?” Howard finally said. “That’s how they’re made, don’t you know? They’re so imbued with deeply painful memories, they become a burden even to look at. Their very existence poisons the room, and the curse isn’t broken until they’re passed on to someone who knows nothing of their history. It seems that’s what you’ve done, intentionally or not. I didn’t want to get rid of that—quite the opposite, I gave it to you because it was meaningful. That was one of my favorites, and I’ll have to give it away now.”

David shrugged. “Go ahead, then. I’m doing the same.”

They both studied the cover for a while. Neither moved, nor said anything.

But when Howard looked up, their eyes met, and he couldn’t help but notice that a persistent sense of defiance seemed to have taken hold. He didn’t detect a hint of anger or bitterness, only solid resolve.

“Please, Sir,” David said.

Howard closed his eyes and sighed. “You know I can’t, and you know why.”

“Yes, Sir, I do.”

“Apparently not, because you’ve asked me to do it anyway.”

He opened his eyes to see David return an affirming nod.

“The audacity,” Howard whispered. “You’ve grown as stubborn as Victor now, although to your credit, you’re a bit more polite about it.”

He knew this was a mistake the moment the words left his mouth, and indeed, David’s expression changed.

“Is Victor still here?” he asked.

Howard looked away. “Yes, he is. And of all the unfair things that have happened, there’s not been any more unfair than that.”

He hoped David would say something to assuage his conscience, but that wish went unfilled.

“I thought you said you’d be throwing him out the first chance you got,” David replied. “Why haven’t you?”

“It’s not that simple,” Howard answered quietly.

“Clearly.”

There was judgment enough in that phrase to make even a general cower, and they sat in silence for a few more seconds.