The Expatriate-the story of a Prodigy

7. The Military

As soon as he was up, Alex Mars went to the Martyr. He found Chris standing at the window, which meant that he was deep in thought. 

 He was a bit smaller than Alex by now-the kid had shot up, literally. He had given up his fat diet when he decided to focus on Alex-that was a good example of how devoted they were to each of them now. 

 "Just survive, no matter what your decision. I know you make good decisions, Alex. I trust you," He said the words solemnly. Alex walked up to stand beside him. The man turned to him, and smiled. "I still remember when you made that millennium-long walk to the other side of the wall," He chuckled. Alex grinned. "I think that's all I can tell you, now. The bus is coming soon, huh?" He made it curt. Alex nodded. "Yes," "I promise I'll be there when you un-Mute those ears, Alex Mars. Good luck and see you soon," 

 He said those basic, every day words and turned back to the window. 

 Alex left the room through the yellow window and walked back to his house. He sent his personal information to the local military camp and calculated the time-30 mintes left before the bus' arrival. He went to the living room, and saw his parents waiting with jittery faces. 

 "'I'm so proud of you," Stephenie said as she pulled her son into one last hug. "I guess the Mut-ation did it's thing. Congrats, son," Alex doubted his ears when he heard his dad sat those words-then stopped himself from snorting. He still didn't like his dad too much for allowing the thing on his ears, even if it helped in him getting drafted into the military.

 He gave his dad one last handshake then rigidly left his house-for the last time.

 He was supposed to be at a bus station in front his school, and he already saw a tiny crowd of people-obviously not commuters or lame students-those were the rest of the people drafted for the year. Alex could tell it right away since most of them stood rigid and firm, staring at the space in front of them. He rec0gnized all of them-the peeps with the top P.E. scores.

 "Alex Mars," A boy said when he got close enough and stood near the bus stop. "Andrew Stewart," Mars said before the other boy could mistake him for not knowing him and waste time by introducing his name. But Alex Mars remembered all.

 "Knew you'd be here," the boy always used to grin in the hallways, so even Alex was a bit srprised when he twitched his mouth into a grimace. A feeling of competitence for me? Or just kind of hating being here? Alex thought. 

 They all stood in silence. Alex's eyes moved like a hawk through the people-there were a total of 18, consisting a fair number of both genders. Everyone he had expected were there-the bragging and burly boys, the violent, aggressive girls. 

 "You can sit with me on the bus," Andrew Stewart suddenly said. Alex didn't know how to ever reply to his 'friend'. So he just stood silently. 

 The bus suddenly emerged into sight and, well, with great speed. It was on the hill on second, and the next, seeemed ready to shoot right in front and away from them. Alex watched with amusement as the others' eyes widened with nervousness and surprise-he knew that there was no reason it wouldn't stop eventually in front of them. The bus stopped with a high perched screech and it lurched in two ways before coming to a dead stop. The door creaked open and a tall man in full uniform hopped off, a pen and clipboard in hand. His eyes scrutinized the crowd, then they narrowed. After a tense moment, he gripped his board and scribbled on it. 

 Alex examined him as he called out to his group of 18 in a rough, sandy voice. He decided to call him Number 1, since he looked like a number one, and he liked the old 2000s book series I Am Number Four. 

 "Andrew Stewart?" 1 spat. 

 "Here, sir," 

 Ok, get into formal mood, Alex reminded himself as 1's lips opened to speak the first letter of his name in slow motion. 

 "Alex Mars," 

 "Yes, sir," Alex said. 1 didn't smile nor nod. He just moved on to call the others. 

 Once he was finished, he waved to the bus. "Get on, newbies. No time to waste," Never knew that army sergenats are allowed to use informal words like 'newbie', Alex thought to entertain himself. But it didn't work as he climbed the bus. 

 It smelled of bleach, and that was all. The seats were apparently old and grey, and the aisle was narrow.Stwart struggled to reach a park of seats, and Alex, right behind him, followed. When they were both settled(and when a few others weren't)the bus shot forward, and Alex wondered what migh have happened to 1, whom he saw climb up the steps of the bus last. It would have been a shame for him to get thrown off his own feet as a first impression.

 Andrew leaned on the cold windowsill and sighed. Alex just looked straight in front of him, something he did when he had nothing particular to dwell his brain on. 

 "I wish I hadn't come," He heard his companion murmur very softly. "Why?" He said it very quickly, his lips opening then closing-no one could have heard him-except his friend. "I rather want to get to uni right away and then just make my way up the social ladder. The military... I think we were bribed to fight for the country," "Though you shouldn't definitely say it in the face of him-" Alex jutted his jaw to 1. "I agree with you," Well, Alex had more complex reasons than that, but Andrew seemed to be on the right page a bit with him at least. 

 Andrew didn't reply, then after another silent moment, turned his face from the window, from his town, to Alex Mars. He seemed to have made a decision. "I like you. I mean, not in that sense, but in the friend-sense. You're smart and good at everything, dude. you're like Damien," "I thought people these days don't read that-Hermann Hesse is an ancient guy," Alex said thoughtfully. "Ok, seems that you're also a 'people these days'. I just read it for fun," Andrew said. Then they lapped into more silence. Then,

 "Do you also know how to control the mood or the person's actions?" 

 Alex hid a flinch. 

 "Like when Max Damien meets Emil Sinclair and uses it to control the boy in front of them? Hmm, I'm not sure. Wish I could," "You just gave a very Alex-y answer," "Ermm, thank you?" Stwart grinned. "You're not simply a walking Wikipedia. You're a walking encyclopedia and comedian," "I doubt it," ALex said back with a forced smile. 

 The bus continued its flight on the road, leaving the group-of-18's town. 

 ALex watched the scene outside alertly, remembering the course that he would have to take in an emergency to race back home-though the military was highly unlikely to let him go. Just-in-case-and just-in-case-s were very important to Prods. 

 Everything was peaceful l-till they reached a steel fence with barbed wire. Andrew took a deep, pained breathe and squeezed his eyes shut as the driver of the bus leaned out and shouted for some invisible guards to open the doors. Alex just watched, wondering how he would get through that-maybe he could climb, or just pull some joysticks on a machine or force the guards to do it then escape...

 The door opened aside with a creeeaaak. 

 Andrew's head sank and he seemed ready to puke as the bus moved on into the camp. The doors closed shut as soon as the bus' tail was over the line. 

 They were in. 

 The bus was now quiet, while there had been a tiny hum of pause-talk-pause conversations before. Alex leaned over to peek at 1-he was grinning. Brother, he thought. 

 There were a second pair of doors waiting for them. It took shorter since the guards at the first door had already informed the guards here. 

 Ok, now they were in for sure. 

 The bus shot forward to a group of low biuldings. Alex's eyes were busy to take photographs. The forest lurched at the back of the base, and there was a 'yard' in the back of some building with grey pavement, probably for out-door training. The rest were all whit or black. Oh, and guards. They stood everywhere, looking at the the bus with fascination and boredom.

 They pulled up in front of the largest building, and the bus lurched to and fro 3 times before it stalled completely.

 1 hopped off again and his battle yell filled the bus as he leaned back in. 

 "We're here, newbies," It should have ended with an exclamation point, but his voice was just loud and it hadn't been an exclaiming statement, so let's don't add it. 

 Alex got up as the others did. Andrew seemed to be near tears. So how did he got chosen to come here? Maybe a high physical score can make up to a terrible mental score, Alex thought as Andrew extended a hand and he pulled him up

 They exited last with I Am Number One right behind. 

 A man in his uniform stood in front of the black building with a dozen prizes and badges sparkling on his chest. All of them stood in a straight but awkward line in front of him. Alex decided to call him Number tw-

 "I'm General Fawkes. Welcome to your military base, and we are happy to see you-but we're not at a zoo. Matters are serious here, and I'm going to be honest. Well, you all need to refreshen up for today," General Fawkes said. "As you came here for, you'll all have privileges as a starter here. Follow me to your rooms," Well, he was kinder then I though, Alex thought. The man's eyes met each of them as if to analyze each to the bone, and Alex could swear that some shivered But he'd ouldn't find a reason-the man was just tall and in a uniform-that was all. His eyes weren't cold and hawk-ish like 1. 

 The man met his, and he stared back, trying to be a bit softer instead of looking too bold and arrogant. 

 The man turned around after staring for zero-point 6 seconds longer at him  than at the others. He walked into the shade of the building, and the 18 followed like baby ducks on their first trip to 'real' world. 

 They were led into a cool, huge 'lobby' where a lot of soldiers were idling in. But unfortunately, there were no lifts, so the group still had to walk up the stairs. They all single filed up a few floors to the top one-it was the 3rd floor. It was like an ancient hotel up here-stained walls and stained carpets. Still, there was a proper showering booth and a few chairs. 

 "There are the room mates you'll sleep with for year," The general said. He pulled out his phone-huh, the modern military is so generous even for a general, you'd say. 

 "Albert with Thomas, John with Nick..." Alex droned out his voice. Boring, it was. 

 "Alex with Andrew..." 

 His head flicked up and he looked at his friend-he looked smug and still, a bit sick. 

 They were allotted into a room at the end of the short hall, Alex went in first, in big part because Andrew was still a bit numb and couldn't move his limbs nor fingers properly. 

 The room was worth expecting. It was huge with big separate beds and a huge living room and a tv. The bathroom was neat and modern and there was even a refrigerator containing all sorts of food. 

 "Come on, Andrew, look at that," Alex said. Andrew kind of softened up a bit at the scene and his limbs moved. He stepped to the fridge and emptied a water bottle in 5 seconds into his mouth. "This's better than I thought," He croaked. 

 But as Alex Mars looked around the room and at his content friend, he felt confused. Soldiers were supposed to be fit and really strict, and now look at the bed and fridge...

 He decided to forget it and sat on the edge of a bed and looked around without moving with head-the Martyr had said that this woud made a person behind him believe that he was staring straight-but now, his eyeballs rolled, looking every corner of the room. There were no cameras, thankfully. He relaxed a bit from his 'not being a Prod'-mood and also walked over to the fridge and grabbed an energy drink. 

 Andrew was now unpacking his stuff-while Alex had had nothing to bring nor wanted to, the other boy had brung a bundle of photos and a few books, though excluding Damien. There were magazines and sci-fi novels-only created for human entertainment, Alex thought as he saw them. 

 "Newspapers?" He just inquired to filll in the empty space in the air with words. Andrew's head snapped in his direction, then followed his glance at the TIME edition of last week. He shrugged. "Just wanted to remind me that a wolrd exists out there, a world where I used to exist as part of a happy society, now separated from me for long," He ended mit with a sigh.  "Good choice of words," Alex said, a bit surprised. Andrew didn't usually say those stuff, at least in school.Was it just humor? Or was he his kind? 

 The latter was highly unlikely, he thought, then doubted himself.

 While Alex was swept in a sudden world of wondering about his companion, Andrew dived onto the other bed and started to read 'The Goner, where no one exists', a crazy, super super unrealistic sci-fi book. No Prod would read that, Alex thought. But no one normal would read books for fun when they just arrived in the army...

 He jumped off the bed and buzzed all around the room, searching for secret cameras. None. 

 After it was finished, he went back to stand in front of Andrew, who had his eyes buried completely in the book. 

 "Andrew, it's safe to tell me," ALex said, though it was a risk. It could expose that he himself, the inquirer, was a Prod, and he could get killed that day. His hands shivered with anticipation. 

 "Huh? I mean, I heard the question-tell you what?" 

 He internally sighed in relief and shook his head, trying not to sound pleased. "Nothing. Well, I already read that, I was saying," Alex said quickly. The lie was very hard t believe, Andrew knew-but with the sentence from a smart kid's mouth, he believed. "You read a lot," Well, Alex had read the stupid book, yes, though it was stupid-in 30 mintes, though. "Yeah. What page?" "179," "Ah, where Luke Marks gets prepared to put him along in the Mars shuttle," "OK, that's it-though, don't spoil it-I love this novel," Love that junk? Ok, he couldn't be a Prod, Alex thought. 

 He was right.

 They were called for lunch after an hour-of reading 'the Goner' and meditating. The general was standing outside, staring at a plant in a pot next to the stairs. He looked down at their clothes-t-shirts and jeans-and gave an unhappy 'hrm '. Alex stood in a rigid posture since his clothing wasn't going to satisfy his general for now. 

 "Alex Mars, huh?" The general asked just before the others rushed out. 

 "Yes, sir," ALex returned. 

 The general looked away and led them down to the 2nd floor where a tiny 'cafeteria' was located. Well, you had to dump food on a tray there-and the thing was, the food was only soup and bread(at least for now), and it was very meager. The place was already packed with rigid soldiers clanging the spoons with their trays, and the big soup bowl was wiped clean a long time ago. As they stood in another awkward line, Andrew seemed to be ready to turn on his faucet once more. Well, Alex also was a bit depressed-he was reminded of how well the foods he himself and his mom made back home... 

 The soup was finally refilled and the line moved forward.  

 Alex got a seat at a plastic table with steel, old chairs, the type that's heavy to lift and makes all the screechy sounds in a room. Andrew automomaticllay sat beside him. Maybe he was going to be my only friend here, Alex thought. Not that he cared-he was more used and comfy without friends.  

 They dipped plastic spoons into the bowl and sipped, though Andrew fidgeted at first a bit. "Wonder how the gov allowed these plastic spoons," He jutted his jaw out to the spoons when he couldn't find another excuse for Alex to not touch his soup rather than because he was 'collecting his thoughts for the meal'. Alex had already wondered that and answered like Wikipedia as Andrew had described him-"The plastic spoons used here apparently have dent marks in them, so the military must be reusing them for long instead of discarding them for environmental issues," "I see," Andrew said, sighed, and now completely void with an excuse, dipped his head down to have a sip. 

 They ate in silence, neither of their eyes moving to the others, who seemed to have sat at a big table and were grouping themselves up. Well, Alex thought that groups were the worst every possible friendships-when you got caught, the rest of the group got scolded. And they had to allot the things they received equally and were prompted to apologize by the others when you fought with another guy, who usually was a member of the group simply because he was a friend of a friend of a friend of a...

 "I think the general's name came from Harry Potter," Andrew murmurred as he forced a sip down his throat. "I already noticed that," Alex grumbled back. "At least he doesn't yet seem to be the guy to yell us all around and kill us," Well, Prods are killed in the military, Andrew, Alex thought. "Yeah. But you know what, Andrew Stewart? Everything is a yet here, yet," Alex said. 

 And possibly yet to be discovered as a Prod, Alex Mars grimly added to his own sentence.