The Expatriate-the story of a Prodigy

6. Submission Sessions

In Alex Mars' time, the students in the end of  first year in high school were subjected to physical and mental tests to see if they were strong enough for the military. Well, all the countries were at stake and pressure from each other, thus resulting in the situation where they had to put pressure on the other back. And the best way to do that is through military power, huh?

 The students didn't get the education of university nor never got to get back home for break-the minimum time for the military was 1 year and a half, though. But the most exceeding or willing were allowed to stay-and what the got in return was, I also have to say, generous. They got a luxurious dorm to stay in together, salary, and at least one occurrence of promotion. And the higher your status was, the more you got...

 Alex Mars wasn't too sure of his honed skills, but knew that they would be better at least than the other mundane dudes. He didn't want to stay in the military, but the fact that his family wasn't the richest family in the whole country, and the fact hat he would get money to utilize later did the trick-he wanted to stay in the military.

 These plans and times spent thinking about it increased as he entered the last year of high school.

 He still had doubts, though. The gov distastes the Prods, and the Martyr was among the few too survive it and grab the good stuff afterall. They both also hated the gov back, but if they got caught....

 "Alex Mars," 

 The man in his stupid green uniform raised his glasses on his nose with his finger and stared at him-the last one to be called in the classroom. Alex Mars got up and walked to the door. It was the year 2070-he was 17 now. He was skinny as we had expected, and tall. With brown eyes. He was far ahead of the others in the whole state in his mental state, but never let them know. A few girls adored him-and he didn't adore them back. He didn't know-and didn't even want to know-what love was. They said it was a strange, beautiful phase in life, unable to be fully explained by logic-so let it be, he thought. 

He glared at the man before pushing the door open and went into the next.

 The gym was the same, looking very different from the huge party that the teachers had thrown just the day before, saying their possible farewell. No balloons and confetti-he loved it this way. 

 There were mats and balls and stacks of wood, however. 

 And 10 judges. 

 He never understood the need for 10-yes, the military was big and crucial, but no need for this. 

 "Alex Mars?" A man obviously wearing contacts asked with a shivery voice. "Yes sir," Keep down your retaliating speaking habits, Alex reminded himself. "Do you have anything you're especially good at in the field of physical activities?" Another man asked from the far edge of the line-ah, there were so many who came here only to ask questions one by one, Alex joked darkly in his mind while answering. "Yes," He suddenly hoped that he had the Martyr's skills, to let his brain measure and moderate the tension and hide this prodigal skills. His brain was kind of racing(in a calculated way, however-he had planned this day for years) as they made the last-second decisions of what to hide and what to show. His Muted ears had been there to pass him every physical test by the doctors at school, and they had worked-his simple behavioral mistakes weren't going to ruin his chance of liberty and fame forever today. 

 "I know some martial arts-I learnt them on You-Tube, sir," He didn't add the 's' to the 'sir' since there were ladies too.

 "Uh huh. Show us, please," 

 Alex slowly walked the length of the gym in the direction of the wood stacks. He saw the people relax in his peripheral vision, and suddenly lashed his hand out. It didn't hurt at all from years of training from his respected Martyr-the wood was suddenly cut in half and Alex spun away, hands clenched into fists. 

 He turned to see the judges, half gaping and half writing excitedly-the dark mood of the previous was suddenly gone. 

 "Any...more?" A woman asked from the center. 

 "No. I just know those techniques," Alex said sweetly, and the entire pack of judges  nodded back obediently. Alex was controlling the crowd as the Martyr had taught him one day-he couldn't believe it was also working to them, those people supposed to be rigid and strict.The thing was, they weren't at all.

 "Ok, our own curious questions will be included in a mental session if we accept you in this round-we'll email the results to your house before 6, Mars. Thank you for cooperating," Alex ignored the obligatory formal words and stepped out of the gym light;y. 

 That was easy. 

 But he knew that the mental one was more harder-well, you know that means that he was quite confident in his first test. He raced out of the school, breathing measured and never too fast. The Martyr had done his best for him, and he again felt how helpful he had been.

 He raced to the Martyr's training space right away and reported the way things had gone. 

 "You should have also shown them how you can walk silently," The Martyr said. "But that could have made them believe that I could be used as a spy," Alex retorted humorously. "Well, that would be useful. I just said it since in my experience, having as much as good skills as possible are good in getting a pass-""And that's why your formal end to your military term  must have been risky," Alex said, sipping juice from the Martyr's fridge. "I'm not sure of that. Still, if you clearly controlled the mood and stayed serious and formal, I'd give at least 3 stars out of 5," "Gee, thanks," He sucked in the last of his juice and crushed the carton easily under his fingers. He faced the Martyr now. 

 He had aged, but not obviously. Since corona was long gone, they were used to training outside, and that was more effective in reducing weight. And they did that every day, except the that day.The Martyr felt as if he had taught almost everything from the boy and that they both should relax;.

 "What time?"Alex asked,suddenly saddened by their possible departure. "5:23. Don't worry," "I wasn't worrying. Just checking if I should go home to make dinner, my parents are happy when I do it," He said-as an excuse. The Martyr knew that but said nothing. 

 The message came 5 minutes later. 

The student above had qualified for the second test for the 43rd annual military position. Please come to your local school between 1 and 3 in the afternoon to host the second session.

 "Good job, Alex," The Martyr said and got up. Alex got up too. "I really should go, I promised to make steak and potatoes for mom and dad. Thanks you so much, Martyr," "Call me Mike, Al," Alex Mars had to grin at it. "Thanks," He said once more, more softly than before, and pushed the old yellow door open.

 'I'm going to be the 2nd Martyr,' Alex Mars thought before he got on the bus. 

 After making the dinner and dealing with an excited Stephanie and merely-smiling Eric, he made it to his room full and meditated. Not much had changed for him, except his ever-growing knowledge and body. He still didn't have much friends. He was still a helluva Prodigy. He still wondered about his Muted ears. 

 He still wanted them to come back. And he knew that it wasn't going to be long before he would bring them back to full potential after he got out of the military. Maybe, he could just forget promotion and race out with money he needed to live alone, do his studies again, and get his ears back...

 He opened his eyes to his room at the thought and smiled grimly. 

 And hoped it would happen. 

 The next day's session was the same-but with no judges. Only one camera stared at him blank-faced in the white, tiny room. Alex put on his VR and knew that he was going to be more vulnerable here. But he had prepared...

 The video started.

 He found himself on a battle field. Everything was red and bodies. The rest was grey, like his mother's favorite color. 

 "Retreat or keep it up, sir? We have little time here, they are gonna come back in later, but we have the upper hand now," "Our soldiers are dying-as much as we killed, as much we have useless for now," He got the situation right away. He was the general-he needed to make a choice most best for all. 

 "Sir, the other side is providing aid to their soldiers, hurry..."

 His eyes swept over the field. He briefest remembered that the judges were watching him and tried to sound or look not perfect. He scratched his head, though his mind was already set. He paused. 

 "They'll lose courage when they see themselves demolished. We still have more alive and 'useful'. Strike them before it's too late," He finally said. 

 The screen went white. 

 He at first thought it was some virus, then a second thought came-what if he'd been wrong...

 The screen lit up again to another scene instead. He felt relief at that. 

 He now stood in a black room. A man in a formal suit was staring at him. He had wrinkles on his forehead and his lips were set in a straight line. 

 "I want to know about you. If you lie, you'll pay for it. For starters-how many is your family?" Alex fidgeted-this was going to be a game mainly for his brain. 

 "3, sir," He answered honestly. 

 The man twisted his ankles. "What are your interests and future hopes?" 

 "I am interested in the arts used in fighting and reading books. I am planning to work as a trainer or streamer," He answered. Only half of it was true-Alex Mars was interested in getting his ears in-Muted and excel as a secret Prod trainer like the Martyr. 

 "Do you have a few unique characteristics that only a few are aware of?"

If you lie, you'll pay for it...

So what, Alex thought. So you'll kill me?

 "No, though I'm not too sure what your standard on being unique. Well, if it involves stuff in magazines, no. None at all," He said.

 It was a risk. And the reason why his ears had been Muted, to pass the standards. 

 He hoped it would work. 

 "Do you think yourself as complaining or weak in the mental sense? The military needs perseverance and comprehension of each other, you know," His 'you know' was the most casual words he had ever said. 

 "Yes," Alex said. 

 The man and the room vanished. 

 The VR video was over and Alex flipped the goggles off. He tried not to seem dazed, then realized that it would look to ignorant or too skilled. So he blinked his eyes, looked for the door he knew existed on his right, and exited the room. He putt the goggles on a desk right next to the door and left the school for the last time. 

 The announcement came earlier than expected. It came at 4. 

 Alex Mars was in.

 He had been submitted. 

 His parents made as much fuss then before-in another way. They didn't grin and smile-they patted him and praised him as all grown up, all teary. Even his dad hugged him. Alex gave his muscles an accidental twitch during the hug, and Eric mistook it as a return hug. Alex had to literally push his dad off after that. 

 He called the Martyr, and he was the same-he praised him with a 'great job' this time. He didn't cry nor shout with pride. It was rather Alex who choked out "See you tomorrow" to his mentor f 4 years. He was very famed at school for having only 3 emotions-bored, annoyed, and pissed a bit off. But that wasn't true-Alex had all the emotions that the others had, but was only not used to showing them. 

 Now they came all of a sudden.

 The tears wet his dry eyes again after so many years-he blinked quickly and swallowed to keep a lump down, an action unfamiliar to him. The Martyr had been there in the first place to help his survive in the world harsh to the Prods. Now he had done it, making Alex get in the army. 

 He had finished  his obligations for him. 

 And Alex was going to the army for a few years, and might even get killed during it. 

 He might never see him again after tomorrow. 

 He switched off the lights for the last tome in his room and got under the covers. Sleep didn't come easily. He felt aged though he was only 16, feeling as if the years had been too fast for him. 

 So, he finally took on his old habit again after abandoning it since his ears were Muted-he stared at the ceiling, alone isn't he dark, and thought. He remembered all the good memories he had had since he was born, all the training lessons with the Martyr, even the bad memories-they weren't even bad afterall.

 Sleep finally came to Alex Mars after that.