Terms of Enlistment (Frontlines, #1)

by Marko Kloos

“I’ll pick up my allowance, Mom.” She opens her mouth to say something, but I turn around and close the door behind me, and her reply blends with the hollow clap of the door slamming shut.

When you do exactly as you’re told, and you’re neither the best nor the worst at any task, you can disappear in the crowd and have a small measure of solitude.

I feel a stab of envy—she’ll be reporting to Fleet School right away, and she’ll probably get to see Earth from space before the end of the week.

The navy’s ships all have artificial gravity, of course, but trainees still have to learn how to function in a zero-gravity environment, just like the sailors in the old waterborne navy had to be able to swim.

If we have to start shooting, you better hope they run out of courage before we run out of ammo.”

I lie down on the thin pillow again and stare at the projection window that is selling me the illusion of a windy autumn lakeshore outside.

I’ve seen pictures of Earth taken from space, but a mere image doesn’t come close to conveying the sheer size and majesty of the planet.

I feel like one of the little pigs in the storybook, running away from the big, bad wolf that has come to blow the house down.