In Remembrance of Home: Book One of the Good for the Many by J. Deutsch

Author:J. Deutsch [Deutsch, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-24T23:00:00+00:00

9

Home on Leave

Rest was in short supply that morning. Unlike Amaré, who had been unconscious for hours and never stirred from his stupor, Carter tossed and turned before managing to fall asleep. When sleep came, both newly minted officers were undisturbed by the morning commotion that accompanied Sergeant Eberhart’s arrival and his familiar booming voice that sent the cadets scrambling. The steady stream of barks and the rushed disorganization proved unable to wake the officers in the corner bunks. Not even the forceful pounding of Eberhart’s leaden boot heels crisscrossing the stressed wooden floor was enough to penetrate their slumber. Their eyes remained closed, blissfully unaware of the platoon’s hurried state.

The tumult died with the cadre’s single-file exit, and soon thereafter the morning’s earlier placidity returned. The empty silence remained unbroken for another hour. It was just past eight when a trio of firm knocks announced a visitor outside. When no response was received, the visitor let himself in and surveyed the room. The wrinkled uniform separates that littered the floor and the unmade bunks covered in wet towels were the only remains of the morning’s earlier pandemonium. His cursory inspection revealed nothing until he found the two younger soldiers in the corner. Without hesitation, their guest approached the nearest light-tight shade, pulled down hard and then released. The shade recoiled and stuttered a repetitive thwap, thwap, thwap as it spooled. Predictably, neither cadet responded. Their visitor circled the room and repeated this action with every window, but neither the sound of the shades on each window frame nor the cumulative effect of the Earthlight woke them. Impatient, and out of polite options, the guest walked over to the bunks and ripped the covers free.

From the comfort of his pillow, Amaré groaned in response. “Stop it. I’m trying to sleep. I worked the tower last evening.”

Carter never spoke. Instead he rolled over and tried to make due, albeit less comfortably.

Their guest threw the blankets to the ground and called them to their feet. “Attention officers. I’m here to speak to you on the orders of Colonel Congreve.”

The name Colonel Congreve caught Carter’s attention and dragged him out of dormancy. He peered over his left shoulder with a crooked eye and looked their guest over. The young man wore the uniform of a junior officer, an MP perhaps. Carter squinted to absorb the details and, upon closer examination, was able to confirm his suspicions. A black fabric cuff embroidered with crisp white letters boldly stated “MP.” His uniform and appearance were impeccable except for the too-long greasy hair that curled out from under the crown of his hat. Their guest had been present at the Command Center for their arrival from Delta Tower. Now here he stood with hands clasped behind his back, appearing to feign no prior knowledge of who they were. He spoke again when Carter did nothing more than stare at him.

“In recognition of your efforts, the colonel has decided to grant both of you one week of special leave.

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