Episode 9

Wrong Answer

The lobby began to pixelate, then dimmed, before going totally dark. When my vision returned, I found myself gazing out at a tortured landscape, which was barely illuminated by an anemic twilight. There were distant flashes, followed by muffled concussions that were felt more than heard. A faint whistling noise quickly grew into a deafening shriek. As I stood totally exposed, I tried to identify the looming threat and take appropriate defensive action.

A hand seized my arm and roughly pulled me off my feet. “Get down!” As I landed on my back, in a muddy crater, there was a brilliant flash and then a massive explosion that sent a geyser of earth skyward. A shower of mud and rocks began raining down on us.

Fuck! This was real combat. Not what I had expected in my first sim session. This was only supposed to be a refresh of my book learning.

I rolled over, searching for Lucy. When I found him, he was talking to me but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Deafened by the concussion of the artillery round that had almost vaporized me, I screamed out “I can’t hear you!”

Still soundlessly yelling at me, he proceeded to drag me towards a low structure of some kind. Once inside, it became clear that this was a protective bunker complex. He continued his muted monologue as shock waves from more artillery rounds rattled the underground structure.

Trying to make himself understood, he pointed at his watch and held up 3 fingers. I shook my head, still unclear on the message. Then he grabbed my shoulders and slowly mouthed some words. Although my lip-reading skills aren’t great, I gamely yelled out what I thought he’d said. “Three more … watches?”

The next word out of his mouth was something like duck, or maybe fuck. I guessed it was probably the latter. With an exasperated roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, he made a dismissive cutting motion across his throat, as if to say, “Just shut up”.

After a few minutes, ambient noises gradually became audible again. Now that my hearing was returning, I asked, yelled, “What were you saying?!”

Lucy looked over, mildly irritated. “Three more minutes. The software simulates temporary hearing loss when artillery rounds hit that close.”

Still partially deaf, I responded. “Yeah, those rounds! Pretty close, right?” Although it was difficult to determine from his avatar’s expression, I sensed that his level of irritation increased slightly.

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He asked me, flatly “Can you hear what I’m saying?” I nodded my head. He said, “Okay, then stop yelling. You’re the one who’s deaf, not me.” It was becoming clear to me, that my mentor’s tolerance threshold for dimwittedness was pretty low.

Risking further irritation, I asked why we were in the sim, if all he was doing was quizzing me on my training.

Lucy explained, “Combat is chaotic. Simply possessing classroom knowledge is useless, if you can’t process it and act decisively on the battlefield. There aren’t any do overs. You fuck up in combat, you die.” It was clear that Lucy’s teaching method relied heavily on tough love. I was grateful we were in the combat simulator, where presumably, I would get some “do overs”.

Lucy stood up and wiped off some of the mud and debris still clinging to him. The next phase of my education began immediately.

He said “Okay, first question: What is the penetration depth of a 30mm APDS round in passive armor, at 300 meters with an impact angle of 60 degrees, in a .5G environment?”

APDS?… My training started to kick in. So, that would be an Armor Piercing Discarding Sabot round. As I tried to remember which chapter dealt with this particular subject, Lucy said “Hurry up, clock’s running.”

I couldn’t immediately recall the answer, so I took a guess. “68 mm?”

Lucy frowned and slowly shook his head. He seemed genuinely disappointed.

Suddenly, I heard a voice from somewhere behind me. “Wrong answer, Dumbshit!” It had a familiar nasal quality to it. I turned around, to find myself staring into the business end of a 30mm autocannon. Based on the context, I assumed it was loaded with APDS rounds. It was being wielded by a large, rough looking fellow, with a disturbingly psychotic grin on his face. This was definitely going to hurt.

I briefly caught the muzzle flash as he pulled the trigger.

Suddenly, I felt like I was cooking from the inside out. It was as though every cell in my virtual body was on fire. Collapsing to the ground, I writhed in intolerable pain as my vision doubled, then faded to opaque shades of grey. I could hear a man screaming and instantly felt embarrassed for him. Then I realized it was me.

My agony ceased as abruptly as it had begun. I was left lying in the dirt of the bunker, gasping for breath. As my vision returned, I found Lucy standing over me, arms folded across his chest, his expression an unreadable mask. Had he set me up for this torture session as some kind of sadistic test? If so, I had certainly failed.

Feeling self-conscious and vulnerable sprawled on the ground, I struggled to stand. Lucy offered a hand, but I ignored it. I was still too raw from the horrific virtual death I had just suffered. Knowing that he had likely engineered this whole painful charade made me angry and apprehensive.

Finally, back on my feet, I searched for the psycho who had just blasted me, but he had disappeared. “Where’s the guy who shot me?

Lucy ignored my question. ” Look, I know that wasn’t much fun. But you needed to learn there are real consequences when you make mistakes in combat. The sim can be painful but it’s a safe place. If you get it wrong in the real world, you’ll be captured and dissected. Best case scenario, you’ll autodestruct or be destroyed by enemy fire.”

I wasn’t falling for his BS explanation. I was in a decidedly homicidal mood as I surveyed the space, looking for the sorry piece of shit that had tortured me.

“Where is that asshole?” Strangely, as my anger grew, my voice became flatter and less emotional. Even though I felt like committing murder, I sounded perfectly calm.

Lucy said, “Don’t blame him, he shot you on my orders. It was for your own good.”

My own good? What a sick son of a bitch. It was infuriating to realize that I had been so wrong about Lucy.

He wasn’t an ally; he was anything but.