Subordinance

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

It’s in the dead and quiet of the dark that the fear creeps in, snaking in under the cracks in the doors and pressing up against windows. No matter how confident I may be in myself that I can go to war and that I can serve my country, during the night, I second guess myself. I second guess everything I know. Deep down I know I can fire a gun and I know I can defend myself, and even further I know I wouldn’t want to do anything to disappoint the country that has literally and figuratively made me who I am. Delta’s given me everything I have and everything I know.

They’ve given me a life.

And so the twisted fear that knots itself in my stomach and settles in like a pit seems so wrong, so selfish, to even doubt the reality of serving my country.

I have to.

I must.

And I will.

That doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of dying, or that I’m not afraid of losing everything I have; rather, it means I’m willing to serve in spite of that fear because I know I could never let my country down. The crippling loyalty I hold for Delta trumps whatever paralyzing fear I might have of war. I know it’s my duty, and I know it is what I was made to do. I know I should find honor in it all.

But then, why am I so scared?

***

I’m sitting in bed the next day, relishing the luxury of not having to get up so early. My first lesson isn’t for another half-hour or so, which means another twenty minutes of lounging in my bunk, giving my poor muscles a reprieve for the first time in weeks. On and off, morning and night, these past three weeks half been a vicious rotation of labyrinth, warfront simulation, and scenario simulation. I go to bed every night disoriented, wholly and utterly drained after an entire day of spiked blood sugar and coursing adrenaline combined with life-and-death situations. Our only respite during the day is the brief, hour-long punctuation of meals in between drills and the six-and-a-half hours of sleep we are allowed at night.

It’s in this half-hour of drifting amidst my thoughts that I add up all of the never-ending days we’ve spent training and all of the days I have left.

One week.

One week until this entire Sector is shipped out to where ever their official positions may be.

In one week we will all be facing what we Subordinates are created to do, these past two years of training put to the test. As our Sector Leader remarked all those days ago before the first of the simulation trials, we will see whether or not our training has paid off.

And in a strange way, I’m very excited to prove it.

I also realize in this revelation that in hitting the one week mark we hit the apex of all of our training and lessons. Today, tomorrow, and the next day will all be devoted to finals on everything we’ve ever learned in our lessons classes. The two days after that will be centered on drill-honing and final adjustments as to where your official position will be, the final opportunity to better your rankings before leaving. The final two days remaining are devoted to packing up one day and traveling the next, since some Subordinate’s final positions will be in Regiments that take two days by AirTram to get there.

And yet, despite the monumentality of these thoughts and how big of a one-eighty my life will do in the not-so-distant future, all I think of doing is curling up with my pillow and snuggling in closer with my blanket, trying to sink into a dreamworld far away from my own reality of duty and fear.

Apparently Rho will have none of it.

“Nine!” she shouts, whacking me with her pillow. “Get up!”