Its as if a dark cloud had just formed above the entire room. We all knew we would die, but we never thought of what we would go through before that. We never thought of what would cause our death, and that some of us would die so soon.
I look around. Everyone is still, and not a single word escapes a mouth. I have a feeling that none of us even know why we're fighting for the Tri-Retaliators, but we all know the Nolegians are our enemies. I hate these people for killing my cousin -Who I can't stop mourning about- and myself in the near future, but I believe killing the Nolegians and all of their allies is the highest on my priority list right now.
Hours pass. Master Klots explains how to get to each base and what to do once we get there -if we get there. He shows us a few weapons we'll be armed with. I expected small guns, considering those are the highest class of weaponry that's legal on the streets. But of course, Priston also got their hands on some pretty strong guns that they manufactured themselves, and some minimal artillery that none of us will have a clue on how to use.
-.*.-
I expected to wake up the next morning and immediately being sent on the mission, but I was wrong. After being startled by the collision of Mother Maria's signature rusted frying pans, I try to recall any dreams I had last night. Fortunately, I hadn't had any strange experiences during my four hours of rest on the torn up canvas that's spread out on the floor beneath me. A cold breeze outside squeezes through the holes in the grout that attempts to support the wall of stone brick. I shiver a bit, then finally manage to sit still and awake.
Mother Maria finally put down her frying pans. "New plan, mission ain't startin' till next weekend!" she declares. The entire room fills with confusion. What will we do until next weekend? I think. Its hard to keep track of what day it is, especially when when you switch time zones. I think hard, and remember that its Sunday because my birthday was yesterday, which I knew was on a Saturday this year.
So what do they plan on having us do all week? I'd do anything to get out of here, but I guess Zarta isn't really my top choice as destination -even though its my "home."
"Last night we talked 'bout how y'all would do on dis mission, or the ones to come, if some uh yuh aren't dat fit." she says. "So we doin' some boot camp dis week." I slouch, and roll my eyes. This is ridiculous. As if lifting heavy cargo from a train on one end of a field to several trucks at the other every day back on slavery grounds wasn't enough. We've gotten all the exercise we need, some of us are just slow or can't focus really well because we're starving and exhausted.
A few minutes after everyone makes it outside a small jet lowers itself into the field. A conveyor belt extends out from the plane, and a few people inside begin loading steel boxes of all sizes onto it. The boxes drop to the ground once they reach the end of the line. The Mother from Priston walks up and begins tapping a screen on the surface of one steel box, and then the case magically opens. A human like figure escapes the box once it finally opens. "How the..." I begin. My eyes -and everyone else's- watch the robot move. A series of buttons pop up on a screen that lays on the figure's chest.
Priston can't be serious. I always knew these sort of things existed, but why don't they exist in Zarta? Why don't we have conveyor belts that can stretch from the train all the way to the loading trucks back home? After all, that sort of technology might as well be as old as the wheel now.
Minutes later, several other human-like robots escape from their steel boxes along with dozens of medicine balls who's weights can be adjusted with the push of a button. Nets for crawling under, several obstacle objects, tires with diameters nearly twice my height, and many other training items. My guess is that we might not need all of these skills quite yet, but I guess some of us will need them sooner or later. "You amazed yet?" a girl asks me. I look at her, a bit puzzled. "What?" I ask. She has a very dark complexion with curly black hair. Another girl next to her actually looks similar to me -besides the strange dark blue eye.
"You wouldn't believe what else we have hidden back home." she says. I look at her, still very confused. "Priston?" I ask. Her and her friend both nod their heads. "So how do you get all of this stuff?" I ask, a bit suspicious. The girls chuckle. "You know how." the other girl says. I manage to laugh a bit. "You guys stole this stuff?" I ask. They both nod their heads again, then look at each other. "Hacked into the systems at the shipping factories in Nolegia. Nolegians never actually get on those air crafts, they're programed and then fly themselves. So those guys don't notice that their stuff is being sent to Priston, not places that are allied with them, like this or Gestor." the first girl says. "So this stuff got put on a different jet once it made it to Priston, and then it was all sent here." the other one adds. I take another look at the equipment.
"So why is Priston so, like, poor?" I ask. The two girls look at each other again with a look of disapproval, which reminds me of Anne and myself. Its hard not to think about her suffering. "Don't you know?" the first girl says. I sort of fidget a bit. I come from Zarta, everyone stereotypes us as weak and beyond dumb, which I guess is actually true. "Um... no?" I respond. She looks over at the Mother from Priston. "Our freakin' government refuses to give the people any of it's resources." she says really quietly.
Our conversation ends when Master Klots begins moving into the crowd of soldiers and starts pulling us apart into groups. "Oh yeah, I'm Kris and that's Jorie." the first girl says. The other girl who looks like me, Jorie, waves hi. "I'm Melanite, but you can just call me Mel." I tell them. Master Klots pulls us three and about fifty other people aside and tells us to start running laps around the field. I sigh, and follow the group toward the edge of the of the clearing.
We begin running. I try to stick at the same pace as Kris and Jorie, which isn't very hard because they're a bit slower than I am. "Can you imagine," Kris begins. "finally shooting all those Nolegians? And ruining all of their weapons? I can't wait to get rid of them." I look at her, a bit confused. I've been having mixed emotions ever since we've gotten off the aircraft. I'm starting to hate the Nolegians too, but I would do anything to stop fighting for the Tri-Retaliators because Zarta deserves to destroyed. Our government's done nothing but make me wish I wasn't even born.
And now they plan on ending my life -and thousands more- at some point. We all just came into this world no more than eighteen years ago, and we're already almost gone.
