CHARLIE COMPANY: SELECTION – PART 1
Kraven
Alex stared at his face in the mirror. He was looking for any sign that he was an official adult now. Sixteen years old – a legal adult. But he didn’t think he looked any different than he did yesterday when he was just a kid. He certainly didn’t feel any different. He was excited. He knew that he was about to have the best day of his life. He was finally old enough for selection – a series of mental and physical evaluations used to gauge a citizen’s suitability for service in the North American Republic (NAR).
His whole life, Alex dreamed of being a member of Charlie Company. Now he’d begin down the path to fulfilling that dream. If he should make it through selection, he’d be one of the lucky few to go to Camp – where only one recruit would get to graduate and join Charlie Company’s ranks.
The amount of time a candidate spends at Selection depends on how well they do. If a candidate doesn’t score high enough on evaluations, they are assigned a career path more suitable to their talents. Those who do well on an evaluation, moves on to the next. The Career Assignment offices and Selection offices were in the same building. Washouts didn’t have to travel far to get into the long line to have their alternate career path assigned. The Selection line tended to get smaller as the process continued.
A small knock rattled on the bathroom door.
“Alweks?” It was his little brother. “Mommy said to tell you that we’ll be waiting in the car and dad said that you should hurry your ass up!”
Instantly annoyed, Alex said, “Tell them I’m coming, Booger Boy!” I can’t wait to get the hell out of this house, he thought.
“I’m gonna tell mommy you called me Booger Boy again!” His brother cried and stomped off.
Now happy again, Alex pulled a small black comb from his back pocket and ran it through his long, brown, unkempt hair. After that, he thought he was ready. He took one last look at the mirror. “You got this.” Then he snapped to the position of attention and saluted himself.
“Took you long enough,” Alex’s father said when Alex climbed into the backseat of the family 2239 Chevy Comet. “I hope you know they won’t tolerate tardiness where you’re going.” Alex rolled his eyes, told his ear implants to play his favorite song, and drowned out the world. His father pressed a silver button on the front console of the car.
“Destination?” The car asked.
“Ministry of Career Development.”
“Acknowledged.” The car responded. “Initiating safety features. Please do not attempt to exit the vehicle while it is in motion. ETA approximately 16 minutes taking best route. Enjoy the ride.
Marquez
They sound like a bunch of chickens all clucking over one another, Jose thought. He was sitting in one of the very back seats of the midtown express – bound for the Ministry of Career Development to find out what career field he would be stuck in for the rest of his life. The prospect didn’t excite him in the slightest. The past five generations of Marquez men were selected for field duty. The women – factory workers. Basic logic told Jose that he’ll be working in the fields with his father by next week. He scored very high on the Secondary Education Exams. But he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. His family migrated from a hostile nation, so they couldn’t join the party. He knew he was screwed no matter how well he did. The transporter slowed down and stopped under a mound-shaped structure. Covered with dirt and vegetation, with a tunnel at its base, it looked natural enough, except for the ten large solar panels fixed on its crest. They looked like giant silver wings, evenly spaced, pointing towards the sky. Of course, Just about every structure in the country had solar panels. The law dictated it. The train pulled to a slow stop and the doors along each side hissed as they slid upward. A large group of pushed and squeezed their way onto the outside platform.
Lines of people were forming in front of each of the doors.
“Please wait to enter the transporter until instructed.” The train announced. Once the lines outside were full, the train said, “You may now enter. Please watch your step. Welcome aboard”
Once everyone was safe on board the transporter, the side doors slid back into place. There was an audible, “pshhh” as the magnetic doors sealed, and the cabin pressurized. The Transporter took off at a fast pace. Within seconds, the buildings and trees outside were flying by in a blur. Jose wondered just how fast transporters ran. They must be pretty quick to travel from one side of the city to the other under ten minutes. The Capitol spanned over 200 miles.
Should be there in about five minutes, Jose thought. Just enough time to listen to some music.
He pulled out his music player, put the buds in his ear. After a few seconds of he-hawing over what to listen to, he selected random and let the machine pick a song for him. He didn’t really like music all that much. But he figured it would take some of the edge off his nerves. Somewhere between the first and second song, he drifted off.
“Hey, kid,” a stranger’s voice said. Jose jolted awake. A tall man wearing a ministry style suit was standing over him, his hand on Jose’s shoulder. “Hey kid. You supposed to be getting off here?”
“Huh… what? Where are we?” Jose asked.
“You’re at the Ministry of Career Development, kid. Where you getting off at?”
Jose turned his head, peered out the window. The transporter had come to rest in front of a large, white building. Across the front of the building, a sign read, MINISTRY OF CAREER DEVELOPMENT.
“Yes, thank you.” He said. “I must’ve dozed off.”
He weaved his way through a clot of bunched people to the side-door and exited the Transporter. Outside, thousands more people crowded the walkways in front of the Ministry. Jose pushed his way to the center of the walkway, then paused, staring up at the massive building. That was when he really felt nervous the first time. He let out a long breath.
“Better to get it over with quick,” he said to himself. He made his way toward the main entrance.
Porter
“Get the hell back here, you stupid bitch!”
Those were the last words Casey Porter’s Father ever said to her. He’d been drinking again and was “in possession,” as she liked to call it. Although, there was nothing at all likeable about him when he was drunk.
He hadn’t always been a boozehound. Before her mom died, Casey couldn’t remember a single time her father ever took a drink. Of course, she was very young when her mother died, so maybe she couldn’t remember that far back. He drank like a pro now. She ran about four blocks before slowing to a fast walk.
There’s a transporter station about two miles from here. Just keep walking. She thought.
She had to hurry. The doors to the Ministry of Career Development lock shut at 0900. If she’s late, she’ll have to wait, at least a month to reschedule. If that happened, she’d be forced to go home. She shuddered in the warm summer air.
“I’ll step in front of a transporter before I’d let that happen,” she said out loud. She made it to the station just as the last people were boarding, squeezed into a seat by the door, let out a sigh of relief. Her watch read 0836 – just enough time to make it. She relaxed a little. A monitor hanging from the ceiling displayed the up-to-date news from the capitol reporters every five minutes. The newscaster spouting about tensions between the Southern American Territories and the N.A.R.
“Talks are under way to sway the S.A.T. from further blockades of trade ships over international waters,” the newscaster said. “The Prime Minister issued a warning to the S.A.T., stating that the N.A.R. is prepared to settle the dispute in Combat if a resolution isn’t reached soon.” Casey turned from the monitor. She’d never cared much for political issues. She wasn’t about to start now. There’s always one bullshit argument or another going on between the Ministry and the S.A.T. This one will end peacefully. They always do – usually. Her left pocket vibrated. She pulled out her ear set, pressed the power button. A hologram appeared about three inches above the top. Her father was calling.
“Yeah Right,” She dismissed the call, put ear-set back in her pocket. At the rear of the transporter, a small room was stashed between two side-rows of seats. The sign above the door displayed that one was the restroom – the other unoccupied. She looked at her ear-set and smiled. I know just what to do with you, she thought.
The transporter slowed to a stop in front of an enormous, white structure.
“You’re now at the Ministry of Career Development,” a voice announced. Then, after the doors slid open, “You may exit the transporter.” Casey checked the time – 0945. She pushed through the line of people squeezing through the door, then stood on the walkway – staring up at a massive, ivory-white. Her mouth hung open.
“Holy Shit,” she said. Then, once the initial shock of the size of the structure dissipated, Casey worked her way through the maze of people and entered the building. The large front office had a single counter that stretched the length of the room. Folks in ministry uniforms in straight back chairs sat along the counter staring at computer monitors.
“Name?” a woman whose nametag read, Maggie asked. She had absolutely no expression on her face. She could have been talking to a post.
“Uh, Casey, Casey Porter”
The woman looked up from her monitor, scanned Casey up and down.
“Running kind of late, aren’t we?”
Yeah…I mean, yes,” Casey said. “But I made it, right?”
The woman seemed not to hear her. She typed some lines, then a machine made a loud buzzing sound. A few seconds later, a name tag printed from a different machine. The woman tore the name tag free, handed it to the girl.
“Through the door…to the left,” she said. “Have a nice day”
Mr. Everett
“This can’t be.” Louis Everett stared at the figures on his monitor. “Re-assess.” The monitor flashed, re-compiled, then displayed the same numbers. “What’s the quota this month?” The monitor flashed again. Mr. Everett studied the screen. “Display both.” Both reports displayed, side by side. Shit!” He said, just as his ear set vibrated. He pressed the answer button. Five minutes later he was standing in front of the Assistant Prime Minister.
“Do you know why I called you here?” the Vice Prime Minister asked.
Mr. Everett didn’t respond – but he knew.
“No?” said the VPM, “How are your numbers looking this month?”
“It’s the addition of the Charlie Company recruits bringing down the numbers,” Louis said. “We only recruit for Charlie Company once a year.”
“Unfortunately, that’s where you failed, Mr. Everett,” the Vice Prime Minister said. “We need to fill one-hundred fifty positions for Camp. We only have eighty volunteer’s – country wide. You do the math!” “Your incompetence created for us a major problem. You have a solution?” Mr. Everett pondered the question for a few seconds.
“It may be Sir that the only option we have is to eliminate the selection process and send them all to Camp.”
The Vice Prime Minister’s expression darkened.
“Mr. Everett, I wasn’t sure when I called you up here, but it is obvious to me now that you’re a complete idiot. We’ll never lower our standards for the sake of numbers. You’re officially relived from your duties. You’ll clean out your office and report to the Career Development Office for reassignment. I’ll call down there later and let them know where I want you placed. You understand?”
Mr. Everett’s eyes began to water. “Good!” The Vice Prime minister screamed. “You’re dismissed! Mr. Everett snapped to attention, performed an about face, and left the office. After he was gone, the Vice Prime Minister instructed his monitor to construct and deliver a message to all Ministry of Career Development offices, ordering them to execute the draft protocol. If we can’t get enough volunteers, he thought; They’ll be volen-told. Approximately ten minutes later, Mr. Louis Everett was found by his secretary, sitting in his chair, the back of his head splattered across the wall behind him. His belongings – neatly organized in a box by the door.
