The Earthling (Soldiers of Earthrise Book 1) by Daniel Arenson

Author:Daniel Arenson [Arenson, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Moonclipse
Published: 2019-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

* * * * *

The platoon marched by an armory, a few barracks, a yard where soldiers trained in Krav Maga, and an obstacle course. As they were walking along Roma's inner curve, Jon noticed an airlock opening at the cylinder's end. Shuttles flew in, and new recruits emerged into the station. They blinked, stumbling around like newly-hatched chicks, trying to form rank as their new sergeant shouted and shocked them.

"Fresh meat," George muttered.

"That was us not long ago," Jon said. "But it seems like forever. We're old hands now."

"A day in the army lasts a year. That's just science." George pulled out another tube of battle paste. "That's why I'm always hungry."

They approached a concrete building, the largest Jon had seen inside Roma so far. It was a crude edifice, rust leaking down its craggy walls. A sign hung above a gateway: ROMA FIREARMS TRAINING.

Jon had been to a firing range a few years ago. His uncle had taken him and Paul. He was looking forward to the exercise. He wasn't much of a marksman or gun nut. But a nice, quiet firing range sure as hell beat obstacle courses, runs around the base, or endless push ups and sit ups. Okay, it probably wouldn't be quiet. But beggars couldn't be choosers.

"All right, platoon!" Lizzy shouted. "Form rank!"

The platoon formed into fireteams. They stood at attention, three by three.

Only days ago, we stumbled and tripped over our own feet, Jon thought. Now we can form rank like pros. Goddamn. Lizzy broke us into a million pieces. And now she's putting us together.

He found himself wondering about the sergeant. How had she lost her hand? Had she seen battle? Fought slits in the jungle? When she wasn't brutalizing recruits, was she as mean? Or was this all an act? Did she have hobbies, loved ones, a personality beyond always shouting and whipping?

Jon would never know. Whoever they had been outside? Those people were dead. He was no longer Jon the musician. He was Jon the soldier now. They all had sob stories, he supposed. Jon had lost his brother. George had suffered his brain tumor and grown to prodigious size. Etty had grown up in a war zone. Clay had been to prison. Bucky, no doubt, struggled with low self-esteem. Every soldier here, Jon realized, had fought some battle on the outside. Had likes, dislikes, loved ones, enemies, a real personality.

But not in here. In here they weren't human. In here they were machines. Killers. That was all.

Come home pure or come home dead.

Maybe there was no more home. Jon had only been here for a day, and he already felt like a different man. If he ever went back to Lindenville, perhaps that town would no longer feel like home. Because he was not the same person.

If basic training broke me so bad, I can only imagine what actual war does to a man, he thought.

"Platoon!" Lizzy barked, tearing Jon away from his thoughts. The sergeant marched past the platoon, cracking her whip.

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