Galactic Axia Adventure 1: Escape to Destiny (22 page)

Delmar really opened his eyes to find himself staring into the face of D.I.A. Stoddard. Electrified into action, Delmar burst out of his bunk and his feet hit the cold floor. Grabbing his clothes, he hastily pulled them on. He tried to straighten his bunk and then ran to the latrine.

Through all of this, D.I.A. Stoddard and D.I. Buckner prowled through both bays motivating the trainees with their very presence. Barely three minutes after leaving his bunk, Delmar heard the D.I. bellow for them to form ranks in the outside assembly bay. The sight of sixty men trying to run down the stairs at the same time might have been humorous at another time, but not this morning.

“Hurry up! Hurry up! Move it!” bellowed Buckner. Soon the three score of young men were again in ranks on the lower asphalt. The two drill instructors shifted the men around until their ranks were even for progression of height.

“Remember your positions. This is how you will form up in ranks from now on,” Buckner announced. “Now we’re taking you to the chow hall. After breakfast, you’ll start in-processing. Anyone with unsecured valuables, raise your hand. D.I.A. Stoddard will take you to the office to record and secure them. All right, move!”

Delmar, along with several other trainees, assembled and followed the Assistant Drill Instructor. Soon his valuable pocket watch was safely stored in the company safe. Back in ranks, the unit moved out toward the mess hall.

The differently clad, rag-tag group of trainees stood at disheveled attention outside of the mess hall for twenty minutes. D.I. Buckner and his assistant walked stealthily among their charges and encouraged no talking.

Five minutes after finally sitting down at a table in the far corner of the dining hall, the trainees were called again to ranks and took their trays to the disposal room. Soon they were marching toward the buildings where they would begin their transformation from a colorful rainbow of civilians to a uniform unit of trainees.

First, they stripped and carried their civilian clothes in net bags they had picked up at the door. A brief physical followed, along with long lines in which their arms, hips, and thighs were the target of many needles. Next, they received their basic clothing and uniforms. Dressed in light blue jumpsuits, they were soon again outside and marching in jerking formation toward their barracks.

Next followed an hour of instruction concerning the care and laundry marking of their uniforms and other clothing. They turned their bags of civilian clothes over to a trooper with a large cart, with an assurance of their future retrieval. Delmar found it hard to believe that he would not see his civilian attire again for another twenty weeks.

A less than leisurely five-minute lunch happened and they again continued their orientation by the drill instructors. Delmar didn’t realize there was so much to learn about clothing or about the fine art of making his bunk. Before they again formed up for a short dinner, they had made and remade their bunks too many times to count.

Dinner was more relaxed, with ten minutes given in which to inhale their food. Years later Delmar would not be able to remember what the food tasted like because it was too briefly in his mouth on its way to his stomach.

After dinner, they resumed the basic instruction about their barracks and its care. Squads were formed within the unit and duties assigned. Delmar found that his immediate future would again involve mops. Lights-out finally arrived and the trainees gratefully crawled into their bunks. Exhausted sleep overtook them at the end of the first of many similar days of early training.

∞∞∞

Delmar was gone eight days when the postcard finally arrived at the Hassel farm. Agnes had gone out to the mailbox each morning after the postal flitter’s arrival in hopes of finding the card. Robert watched her and did not need to see the piece of mail to know that it had finally arrived. If she could have done cartwheels she would have, but her waving arm was sufficient to alert her husband.

Jake came in the back door at the same time Agnes entered at the front. She nearly ran into him. Her excitement telegraphed itself to Sherry, who was busy preparing for lunch. Although it only said the expected—
I arrived safely and my starmail address is Deagle>gss.3703.775.fwtb,
it still spoke volumes to those who received it. Many were the memories the four could tell of their own experiences in basic.

After lunch Agnes went to her desk in the front room and switched on their home computer, which was very simple compared to the fancy models now available. Her fingers trembled as she typed her first letter to Delmar.

HasselFarm>gss.bv.er

Deagle>gss.3703.775.fwtb

Subject:          Postcard received

Dear Delmar,

We received your postcard late this morning and are glad that you made it safe and sound. The Senders are still here with us, and Mr. Sender is helping Mr. Hassel with the chores. Mr. Hassel is doing better each day. I expect he’ll be back to normal soon.

Mrs. Sender and I are really enjoying each other’s company. Mr. Hassel is alarmed when we go into the kitchen. He says he has already put on ten pounds since he came home from the hospital. He blames our cooking!

We went down and checked on the Sabetis, the young couple that is taking care of your farm. They’ve been painting the house, and the difference is wonderful. Some of the neighbors are helping with the fields. They planted a modest crop that should be ready for harvest before the weather turns cold again in a couple of months.

Daren has been working on the old tractor and thinks he may be able to have it running soon. Two of the pistons need replacing. A neighbor up the road from us has a couple extras left over from an old rig he retired. After those are installed, Daren and Robert will try to get it started.

Well, I better close for now. I know you’re busy and are having an interesting time learning new things. Take care and write when you can.

Love, the Hassels

At basic, Delmar was learning interesting things all right, the correct way to mop a latrine effectively for one. For over a week, he had been steadily improving his skill level with his mop. At night, his hands still curled from holding the handle, he occasionally practiced mopping in his dreams.

The first starmail from the Hassels arrived two weeks into Basic. That evening Buckner allowed them a half-hour of free time before lights-out as a reward for their improved marching ability. Delmar took the precious letter he had printed from his starmail, read, and reread it several times. Then he took stationary that he had picked up at the unit store and composed his reply, knowing he would have to transpose it to starmail tomorrow.

Deagle>gss.3703.775.fwtb

HasselFarm>gss.bv.er

Subject: No hair

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Hassel,

It was so good to receive your letter today. D.I. Buckner gave us a half-hour free time, so I’m able to reply.

Life here at basic has been interesting. Initial orientation went fine, except that I’m still getting used to having no hair. I know that I don’t need to tell you and the Senders about basic, since you’ve all been through it. I will tell you that I am, of course, homesick. But that’s expected, I guess. Some of the guys are having it pretty rough adjusting to the constant “personal attention” by our DIs. But I followed your advice to ‘listen, obey, and keep your mouth shut.’ So I’m doing OK so far. I’ve lost some weight but find that my strength and endurance at calisthenics is improving.

I made a friend who bunks next to me. His name is Stan Shane. He and D.I. Buckner have had a few problems but I hope it will get better for him soon. Stan has a real strange idea about what it takes to be a man. The DIs are trying to help him see things clearly.

I’m glad to hear about the farm and the progress Daren and RoseMary are making. When I think about it, the farm seems like it was never really home. You folks have been my real family and I consider your place home. Since you are now my legal guardians, would you mind if I called you Mom and Dad? It would be an honor to be able to do it.

I love you folks (the Senders too!) Write soon. Delmar

P.S. Please send me the Sender’s starmail address, or give them mine. Love D.

His timing was about right. Delmar stuffed the letter under his pillow and was ready for the rack before lights out. Hearing from the Hassels was somewhat of a shock after being here for what seemed like forever. To visualize their farm took some effort, and it seemed like it had been a lifetime ago. Delmar continued his musing for another couple of minutes before rolling over and going to sleep.

∞∞∞

HasselFarm>gss.bv.er

Deagle>gss.3703.775.fwtb

re:        No hair

Dear Son,

We received your letter today and all of us were so glad to hear from you. As you may have guessed from the beginning of this letter, Mr. Hassel and I both happily agree to be your “Mom and Dad”. We feel honored by your request.

The Senders are still here but will be leaving soon to return to Mica. “Dad” and Mr. Sender have been helping Daren get the tractor started and you should have seen how sooty they looked when they came home! They are going back this afternoon to adjust it some, and Daren is looking forward to using it around the farm.

We’re glad that you are adjusting to basic so well. Dad says not to worry about losing your hair. He says it will grow back just about the time you lose it for good. We’re glad to hear that you’re making friends, and wish our best to Stan. Tell him that these old troopers say it takes more than being a superman to be a real man.

Mr. Hassel, OOPS! I mean Dad, continues to improve and we should be able to start walking in the woods again soon. Having Mr. Sender around has helped keep Dad out of my hair, and his help with the chores keeps him from over doing it.

The oats are about ready to harvest and have grown up enough to obscure the impressions left by the ships. After harvest, Daren is coming up to help us fill them in. The neighbors will have to watch it when they bring the harvest equipment in so they don’t drop an axle.

Well, that’s about it from here. The Senders send (Ha Ha. No pun intended) their love. They say they’ll write soon from Mica. Take care and keep making us proud.

Love, Mom and Dad

∞∞∞

Robert and Agnes drove the Senders to the space field to see them off. “You sure you’re going to be all right with me gone?” Jake asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Agnes replied. “I’ll keep him in line!”

“You take care of yourself,” Sherry said, pointing at Robert. “I don’t want to have to come play nursemaid. Of course, we could just call Bulldozer Betty and have her move in with you.”

Everyone except Robert got a chuckle just as the loudspeaker announced their flight was boarding. The women hugged each other while Robert and Jake shook hands.

“You two be good on the way home!” Robert called, watching the couple climb up the ramp. Jake and Sherry waved back, and then passed through the hatch. Robert and Agnes stayed to watch the transport ship lift off and waved as it soared skyward.

On the way home, they passed the Eagleman farm. The Sabetis had painted the house a light yellow and they could see RoseMary starting on the green trim. Robert honked and RoseMary waved with her paintbrush. A little further on, they saw Daren in the field on the tractor. He waved when Robert honked and then continued watching where he was plowing as he pulled a cutter rig along.

It seemed strangely quiet not to have either the Senders or Delmar around the place. Agnes made dinner while Robert walked to the barn. She watched him and saw that his limp was decidedly reduced. It was good to see him getting around so well, although the cane lent him a certain dignified air when he would use it.

∞∞∞

The weather had graced them with a mild downpour all the way back to the barracks. The unit was getting used to marching, and the steady rhythm of their boot heels on the pavement was almost hypnotic. Delmar managed to avoid stumbling when D.I.A. Stoddard brought them to a halt. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to check your starmail,” Stoddard reported. “Dismissed.”

Sitting on the floor next to his bunk (he didn’t want to wrinkle his dustcover in case there might be an afternoon surprise inspection) Delmar opened the two letters he had printed off the computer. The first was from Daren and RoseMary Sabeti, a report on how the farm was improving. Delmar was glad to see that it was working out for the couple, and the thought that the old farm was seeing happier times was welcome.

The second letter was from the Hassels. Delmar got as far as the opening address and stopped. The word “son” left him speechless. He felt a knot form in his throat and tears blur his eyes. After a while, he was able to finish reading the letter and then just sat there thinking about being a “son”. He remembered being an orphan, and he remembered being an abused younger brother, but being a son seemed special somehow.

Finally, his vision refocused. He saw his friend Stan looking at the floor, a single page held limply in his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong Stan?”

Stan looked up at him, his expression hollow. “Ah, nothing,” Stan finally answered. He crumpled the page and threw it at the trash basket. Delmar watched him walk out of the barracks and sit down on the steps. He retrieved the crumpled page and stuffed it into his pocket. Just then, D.I.A. Stoddard came through the bay and told the trainees to wrap things up in five minutes. Delmar stowed his precious mail in his locker, finishing just in time to hear the call to form ranks. As an afterthought, he also tossed Stan’s letter into his locker. He would have to investigate it later.

“You coming, trainee?” he heard Stoddard’s voice boom from the end of the barracks bay.

“Yes, sir,” Delmar answered, and ran outside to join formation with the other trainees.

Chapter Seventeen

Deagle>gss.3703.775.fwtb

HasselFarm>gss.bv.er

Subject: haircut with hair

Dear Mom and Dad,

Boy, it sure feels great to write that! Life here at Freewater has been very busy. This morning we had our third haircut since arriving. This time was different though, I actually had some hair to cut! D.I. Buckner has been working us hard on close order drill. I think we’re finally getting the hang of it. When he didn’t think anyone was looking, I actually saw him smile. The other guys didn’t believe me and some have started a pool about how long it will be before anyone else sees him smile again.