2065 - The Academy

After several months, David finally grew accustomed to the Academy’s routine.

He woke up every day at 05:30, made his bed, put on his uniform, and stood at attention for room inspection. Then they assembled for morning formation, after which he marched to the mess hall, had a quick breakfast, and attended his classes. There was a break for lunch, and afternoons were much the same, with slight variations for studying or athletics. Saturdays were occupied by special training courses, and Sunday was always a free day.

Lights-out was at 22:00, but he was usually tired long before then. He slept hard, enjoying a well-earned rest each night, and once his head hit the pillow, nothing disturbed him until morning.

One night in mid-April, though, he was roused from a deep sleep by someone whispering in his ear.

“Hey!”

He rolled over and tried to push them away, but then they began shaking him.

“Get up,” they said. And this time, he jolted awake, because he knew that voice.

It was Victor.

“What are you doing here?” David asked as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Such an encounter was extremely risky after hours, as the cadet quarters were monitored closely at night. They’d be discovered immediately, and even Victor wasn’t that brazen—or so he’d thought.

As the blurriness faded from his vision and his eyes adjusted to the dark, he frowned when he saw that Victor wasn’t alone. Several others were there with him, all in uniform, their white button-down shirts contrasting harshly against the blackness. David wondered how they’d avoided waking his roommate, but when he glanced across the room, he saw an empty bed. His roommate was awake too, standing there with them.

“Get dressed,” Victor said. “We’re going downstairs.”

There wasn’t even a request attached to these words anymore. It wasn’t a suggestion.

“What . . .” David began. But Victor didn’t let him finish. He grabbed David’s neatly folded clothes from atop the dresser and tossed them in his direction, and David recoiled as they landed in his lap.

“We’ll explain everything once we’re down there. Hurry up.”

David nodded and said nothing else. He knew it was useless to ask further questions.

Once he was dressed and awake enough to be in a semi-alert state, Victor motioned toward the door, and they left without another word.

They entered the darkened hall and made their way to the elevator. David tensed as they stood at the end of the corridor—he was waiting for the inevitable shout from one of the hall monitors—but to his surprise, nobody stopped them. He cast a quick glance at the other cadets, but none of them seemed even the least bit nervous.

“Is this a hazing thing?” he asked quietly.

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David’s roommate glanced at him, then looked at Victor. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

Victor simply smiled in reply and shook his head.

David’s mind raced as he waited for those doors to open. Victor was bold—sometimes excessively so—but he wasn’t stupid, and even he wouldn’t engage in such activities if there was serious risk of being caught. The only way they could be out at night like this, David realized, was if someone in a position of authority had allowed it.

His thoughts were interrupted when the elevator arrived, and they stepped inside. He squinted against the bright lights, but as his eyes adjusted, he got a better look at his cohorts. Besides himself, Victor, and his roommate, there were two others—both second-year students he recognized in passing from his classes, although he struggled to recall their names.

“Upper classrooms,” Victor said. The doors closed, and the elevator began moving at his command. Once they were on their way, he leaned back against the wall and motioned toward David.

“You can relax now. The cameras are off, and nobody’s down there. They won’t see us.”

He must’ve seen the look David gave him in reply, because he hastily continued. “You’re joining a fraternity.”

David stared at him through tired eyes, and Victor answered all of his unspoken questions with a single sentence.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

The elevator ride was short, and the doors opened in front of them a few seconds later. They stepped out and made their way through yet another darkened hallway, this one lined with classrooms that seemed almost eerie in their semi-abandoned state, with dimmed lights and chairs upturned on the desks. There was one at the end that was fully lit, though, and David assumed this was their destination, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw which one it was.

General Howard’s classroom.

He slowed down and leaned toward Victor. “I don’t think we should be here,” he whispered.

Victor shifted toward him, and David flinched. He never knew what kind of response he’d get—if it would be hurtful or kind—but it was the latter, because Victor placed a hand on his back and spoke in a calm, reassuring tone.

“I worked very hard to get you a place here tonight,” he said. “If they didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be. There’s nothing to worry about, because they won’t get caught, and neither will you. So please,” he smiled, “don’t embarrass me.”

Then, before David could respond, Victor let go, quickened his pace, and disappeared inside.

David hesitated for a moment, then swallowed his fear and followed, stopping just inside the door to take in his surroundings.

All of the desks had been pushed aside, leaving the floor empty, and a round table that usually sat in the corner of the room had been moved to the center. Roughly a dozen chairs had been placed around it, and some of them were already occupied. There was an assortment of items spread before them, all of which were prohibited by Academy rules—several decks of playing cards, poker chips, and an unlabeled liquor bottle surrounded by shot glasses.

All of the cadets present were in partial uniform, but none had their jackets, which meant they lacked any visible form of identification, rank, or insignia. But even so, David knew that those seated at the table were upperclassmen. One of them turned around with a cursory glance in their direction, and he inhaled sharply when he saw who it was.

It was Captain Bartlett, a twenty-one-year-old cadet officer who commanded a company of fourth-years. There was something imposing about him—an authoritative presence that was difficult to qualify. He didn’t look like a cadet; he looked like a soldier, and he acted it too.

David had heard the gossip. Bartlett was one of the Academy’s most recognizable students—popular among his peers and heavily favored by faculty and administrators, with some already regarding him as top command material. A few even referred to him in passing as “the future general.”

David believed it. Most cadets had similar aspirations, but Bartlett was one of the few who seemed all but guaranteed to achieve them.

He hung back, edging closer to the door and trying to stay hidden behind the others. However, his attempts to remain unseen were unsuccessful. Captain Bartlett’s eyes landed squarely on him, then darted over to Victor.

“Oh, look, they finally showed up,” he said.

David cowered, but Victor noticed and nudged him gently with his elbow.

“Relax,” he said. “He can’t get us in trouble, because he’s not supposed to be here either.”

As Captain Bartlett looked them over, his face confirmed as much. Although he still represented a far more imposing presence than the others, he’d clearly come here to drink and gamble.