Zero's Return (36 page)

This time,
though, there seemed to be something…darker…to the colonel’s black eyes as he
watched Six Seven Two sputter and make excuses.  Eventually, he held up a
hand.  “Not everyone wants to be a soldier,” the colonel said, once Six Seven
Two had reluctantly fallen silent.  Turning to the rest of the class, he said,
“Not everyone has the
discipline
to be a soldier.”  He turned back to
the boy standing at the line of cages with him.  “Six Seven Two,” he said
gently, “were my instructions to stand in formation until my arrival somehow
unclear?”

Six Seven Two
reddened and bit his lip.  “No sir.”

“Then someone
must have given you permission to leave formation,” the colonel encouraged. 
“One of the doctors, maybe?”

Don’t answer
him
, Six Six Five thought, already feeling the twinges of fear in her gut. 
Something was wrong.  All of her instincts were
screaming
at her that
something was wrong.

“No, sir,” Six
Seven Two said, sounding ashamed.

“Oh,” Colonel
Codgson said gently.  “Then you left my formation because you were distracted
by the rodents.”

“Yes sir,” Six
Seven Two said, hanging his head.

Six Six Five
didn’t see Colonel Codgson pull his knife, but a moment later, he was yanking
it out of the underside of Six Seven Two’s jaw, followed immediately by a spray
of red.  As Six Seven Two choked and fell to his knees between the cages,
squirting arcs of crimson over the nearby hamsters and the stark white floor,
Colonel Codgson very carefully pulled a rag from his pocket.  Smoothly turning
his back to the gurgling boy now clutching his throat, Codgson faced his
stunned batchmates. 

Wiping blood
from his knife with the white square of cloth, the colonel said, “Six Seven Two
didn’t have what it takes to destroy the aliens.  He couldn’t even wait a few
more minutes for his surprise.  That means he wasn’t strong enough to survive. 
He wasn’t
useful
.”  Behind him, Six Seven Two made a few final choking
sounds and collapsed face-first onto the floor between the cages, his feet
twitching on the linoleum.  Ignoring the rhythmic squeak of boots on the waxed
floor behind him, Colonel Codgson scrutinized the formation with a sad smile. 
“You see, we need soldiers. 
Warriors
.  If Six Seven Two couldn’t obey
simple instructions
now
, how could we expect him to carry out complex
instructions
later
, when it’s time to defend Earth?”

None of the
recruits could find the words to respond.  Everyone stared at their batchmate,
who now lay still on the floor behind the colonel, a pool of red spreading from
under his chin.

Colonel Codgson
replaced the knife in its sheath on his belt with a sharp metallic
snap
. 
Coldly, he said, “The answer is he wouldn’t.  He’d disobey, lose sight of his
objective, and get people killed.  That…”  Colonel Codgson scanned every face,
leaving Six Six Five with a sick feeling when his gaze stopped on her, “…is
unacceptable.”  Still looking at Six Six Five, the colonel’s lips quirked in a
little smile.  “The rest of you earned your surprise.  Take as long as you want
to pick.  Doctor Molotov made sure to get different colors so you can tell them
apart, and there’s more than enough to go around.  As soon as you find the one
you want, bring it to the assistants so they can document your choice in their
report.”

At that, Colonel
Codgson turned and walked out, but Six Six Five couldn’t make herself leave
formation even after everyone else had picked their hamsters from the cages
along the wall.  After the other boys and girls took their new pets and walked
out, Six Six Five continued to stand there, staring at Six Seven Two’s dead
body.  His cheek was resting in a pool of blood, crimson liquid soaking into
his platinum-blond eyebrows. 

I moved first
,
was all Six Six Five could think. 
The colonel didn’t see me, but I moved
first.

Eventually,
Doctor Molotov came into the gymnasium to squat beside her, a concerned look on
her face.  She wasn’t wearing her scarf today, and her hair was pulled back in
a tight bun.  “Is something wrong, Six Five?”  Like most of the doctors, she
shortened their names when she was trying to be nice.  Today, Six Six Five
didn’t notice.  All she could see was the blood soaking her batchmate’s cheek,
the red that had sprayed the cages, the way the hamster was sniffing Six Seven
Two’s fingers where they had poked through the wire in his fall.

After a moment,
Doctor Molotov followed Six Six Five’s stare to the dead boy on the floor,
tucked between the bloody hamster cages, half covered by the cloths that his
batchmates had tossed aside.  Immediately, Doctor Molotov’s face hardened and
she jumped to her feet.  “Goddamn it, Drake, get a cleanup crew in here!” she
shouted.  Then she grabbed Six Six Five by the wrist and forcefully steered her
from the room.

Still, at the
door to the gymnasium, Six Six Five hesitated and turned back to look at the hamster
cages, feeling a pang of loss at the six crimson-stained pens clustered around
the dead boy.  “I don’t get a hamster?” she whispered, still caught between
tears and terror.  She had seen her fellows walk out with brown ones, spotted
ones, gray ones, black ones…

“You’ll get a
pet,” Doctor Molotov insisted, giving her arm a gentle tug.  Her face was
hard.  “Come on.  I’ve got something in my office just for you.”

Six Six Five
frowned, knowing that Doctor Molotov only had Charlie in her office, the fat white
rabbit that the doctor liked to fondly say she had ‘retired,’ whatever that
meant.  Six Six Five had even gotten to feed him once, when feeding time had
happened to coincide with her monthly progress report.  Six Six Five still
remembered the magic of holding the carrot and petting his soft fur as he
nibbled at her offering through the open door.

Sure enough,
when Doctor Molotov presented her with a pet, it was Charlie.  Six Six Five
felt her eyes widen.  “You’re giving me
Charlie
?” she whispered.  “But
Charlie’s a
rabbit
.”  Not only that, but Charlie was the only
white
animal that she’d seen in the cages.  Instantly, Six Six Five didn’t want him. 
She didn’t
want
to stand out.  She didn’t want to be like Six Seven Two.

“Yes,” Doctor
Molotov said briskly, sounding almost angry.  “I’m giving you Charlie.”  She
tugged his cage from its stand beside her desk none-too-gently, making him jump
and hop inside.  “Come on.”  She twisted and started back toward the hall.

“But,” Six Six
Five whimpered, “what if Colonel Codgson—”

“
Fuck
Colonel Codgson,” Doctor Molotov growled.  “The psychotic bastard needs a
bullet between the eyes.  Come on.  You guys have the rest of the night to get
settled in with your new companions.”

Six Six Five
swallowed, looking at Charlie’s wide pink eye through the cage wire.  He looked
as scared as she was.  In a whimper, she managed, “What if he kills Charlie,
too?”

Doctor Molotov’s
eyes narrowed, again looking like she was angry, but not at Six Six Five. 
“It’s a psycho-emotional stability resource.  He won’t.”  Then, without another
word, she left her office, Charlie’s cage in her hands.

Nervously, Six
Six Five followed the doctor back to her room, where Doctor Molotov set
Charlie’s cage on the desk beside her bed.  The doctor bit her lip, looking at
the rabbit, then quickly turned away, but not before Six Six Five saw her
regret. 

Clearing her
throat, Doctor Molotov dropped a plastic bag onto the table beside the cage and
said, “Here’s his bag of treats.  Don’t feed him more than a tablespoon at a
time or you’ll make him sick.”  She took another deep breath, her gaze sliding
towards the rabbit before looking away.  “You’ll be expected to take good care
of him.  He likes to be petted from nose-to-tail.  The other way aggravates
him.  He likes to be fed twice a day, and taken out and held before bed.  And
don’t mess with his ears.  He hates that.  He used to have injections—”  She
cut off suddenly, her voice breaking.  Hurriedly, Doctor Molotov swiped at her
eyes with a sleeve.  Keeping her face out of sight, she finished, “The
technicians will explain proper care and maintenance at formation tomorrow. 
Don’t bother registering him with the techs—I’ll do that.  Just stay here and
get to know each other.  The other kids will be back soon.”  Then, without
another word, Doctor Molotov hurried from the room.

For the longest
time after she was gone, Six Six Five could only scowl at the bunny through the
bars, thinking how much she
didn’t
want a rabbit, especially not a huge,
fat
white
rabbit with weird red eyes.  She wanted a
brown hamster
. 
A
normal
pet.

Charlie seemed
to share her discontent, because he had wedged himself into the back corner of
his cage and was staring wide-eyed at his new surroundings, panting.

It was his
obvious terror that finally made Six Six Five soften.  He was, she realized, in
a lot of ways just like her.  Much of the time, Six Six Five felt like she was
in a cage.  A weird, huge, complex cage filled with doctors who told her what
to do and made her stand still while they wrote their reports, but no less a
cage than the wire contraption now dominating her desk.  Gingerly, Six Six Five
reached into the bag and pulled out a hard brown treat that smelled like
apples.  She held it a moment, considering, then reluctantly pushed it through
the bars.

As she held it
there, Charlie’s nose twitched and his head came around to look.  He eyed it a
moment, then glanced back out at the room around them, pink eyes still wide as
he scanned their surroundings.  For a moment, Six Six Five thought he would
ignore her offering.  Then, timidly, he returned his attention to her treat and
hopped forward until his nose was nuzzling her hand.  He sniffed her fingers,
his velvety nose twitching against her skin, before moving his head down to
gently take a tentative nibble at the treat between her thumb and pinkie. 
After an unsure moment, he hopped the rest of the way forward and began to chew
in earnest.  Gingerly, Six Six Five reached up and started to stroke his
velvet-soft back the way Doctor Molotov had told her.

When he didn’t
jerk away, Six Six Five started to smile, in spite of herself…

Shael slammed
back into his war-mind as he jerked awake, panting.  He was cold again, the
fetid night breeze of this miserable planet brushing against his scaleless
skin, sapping his warmth.  He tugged one of Joedobbs’ precious blankets closer
to his body, this time more because of the cold than a desire to protect the
treasures.  He said a quiet mental prayer for forgiveness to the Sisters, but
kept the blanket around his shoulders.

Only after he
tightened the blanket around his body did Shael realize the minder was watching
him from across the Voran’s fire.  With that knowledge came the realization
that he probably knew the truth of why he clutched the blankets so fiercely.

Immediately,
Shael narrowed his eyes at the weakling. 
You tell anyone of this and you’ll
dance on my tek.

Your secret
is safe with me
, Twelve-A assured him.  The minder wore a small frown of
concentration, though, as he continued to watch Shael across the flames.

Unnerved by the
telepath’s perusal, Shael tensed and coiled, glaring back, acutely aware of his
missing scales.  “You dare to stare upon a warrior of Welu, kin-of-Test-Tube?”
he finally demanded, using one of Joedobbs’ more formal family monikers for the
furg.

The minder
seemed to consider, then shook his head and appeared to find something very
interesting in the grass beside his knee. 

Shael, who was
watching the minder’s foggy green energy-form from the all-encompassing freedom
of his war-mind, lifted his head in challenge.  “I am protector of this camp. 
Do you challenge my right to put these valuables to use however I see fit?”  He
gestured broadly to the blankets that Joedobbs had not felt comfortable
guarding himself.  If Twelve-A wanted to object to Shael’s use of the Voran’s
supplies, it would be a small thing for Shael to put the weakling furg in his
place, permanently.

I was just
wondering about that dream
, Twelve-A said. 
This isn’t the first time
you’ve had it…is it?

Shael felt his
skin heat at the idea that he had again dreamed of himself in the form of a
Human girl—and that now someone knew about it.  He surged to his feet, allowing
the blankets to fall away from him, forgotten.  Pointing a warning talon at the
minder, Shael said, “You will tell
no one
of this, weakling, or I will
eviscerate you with your own toenails and feed you to a pit of diseased vaghi.”

Twelve-A gave
him a perplexed look. 
It was just a question—I can’t read you when you’re
in your war mind.

Shael cocked his
head at the minder.  “You can’t?”  That was…useful.  Earlier, when it had
become obvious that the power structure of the group of disorganized furgs had
been unfortunately slanted in favor of the minder, Shael had been trying to
figure out how he could overpower a telepath if the need arose to take charge
of the walking Takkiscrew.  This made it much easier.

Immediately, the
minder reddened. 
It just makes it very difficult to locate you.  I like to
keep tabs on everyone.  For my…comfort.

Which answered
another of Shael’s questions.  “So all of this time…  You haven’t been able to
read me, have you?” he demanded, triumphant.  He wondered what Joedobbs would
think of that information—and whether a Voran’s war-mind could possibly be deep
enough to protect him from a minder’s charms.  Shael had been nervous that the
unnatural tricks of this Twelve-A might be able to counter his warrior’s
strength and stamina.  He had certainly not been looking forward to fighting
him.  In many ways, Twelve-A had the makings of a very dangerous weapon, if not
the heart.