Chapter 5 #2
I assumed the human experience was largely universal regardless of the body I was born into, but that paranoia that I could be found out at any moment over something I didn’t even know was a female-only thing apparently was well ingrained in my brain.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” The voice played in gentle, genuine sounding appreciation. “Please proceed to the waiting room.”
I got out of the chair and headed into the next waiting room, in the form of a large gymnasium.
This, I presumed, would be the fitness test.
Fuck yeah. FINALLY someone who wanted to know how many squats I could do.
Again, I didn’t laugh at my own bad joke, because again, this was serious.
They started calling names, six at a time, and three uniformed men watched and took notes on each candidate.
I stood on my tiptoes to better observe and prepare myself.
Though I wasn’t exactly a star athlete, I was reasonably fit, and I had trained with Vann more times than I could count, so I should be able to pass the basics.
But I’d still never actually attended a real military training session, so I had no clue what was normal or routine, and no one had ever held me to any sort of official standard.
I just kind of ran on treadmills, did calisthenics here and there, and played sparring games.
It was a mercy that I wasn’t first up, so I could get the flow down by watching the others.
Sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, timed runs. Very basic. That was easy enough.
I was up next for sit-ups, while the tall, lanky guy who was to be my test partner took position at my feet to hold down my ankles.
This was standard testing procedure for sit-ups, and I knew that, but I still winced as soon as I felt his hands on my shoes.
I thanked the years of biology and anatomy classes that quieted the irrational part of my brain that started wondering if there was some distinct difference about man-ankles or man-feet that might also be obvious.
Once I got more secure in my position, hopefully this would all feel more natural.
The whistles sounded, and I easily kept pace with the others, achieving a more than respectable sit-up count in the allotted minute.
My push up ranking out-performed the stout guy by four, putting me near the bottom of the pack but not last, and my timed mile was only about three minutes off of the best in our segment.
I wouldn’t go around saying I was going to beat a trained soldier in a foot race, but in this room of rejects, I could be described as squarely mid.
It was a relief to see I wasn’t completely behind and out of my league among men. Not bad for someone with a uterus weighing me down. I knew my high testosterone would come in handy one day.
Well, up until the pull up test. That uterus felt real heavy when I didn’t even manage one strict pull up. That may have been the longest and most disappointing minute of my life.
I finished up the physical test, then resumed waiting in yet another bland, undecorated room of uncomfortable chairs. The only color in the place was in the form of the video sphere in the corner that projected the usual recruitment commercial on loop.
I’d been waiting nearly four hours before they finally called my name for the final stage of the assessment.
“Vann Callan,” a tall, broad shouldered man in uniform bellowed. I was getting used to answering to my brother’s name, one test at a time.
“Here, sir.” I said loudly and stood from my seat.
The recruiter stared me down, he drew in air through flared nostrils until his chest puffed out, then he huffed it back out his nose like a disappointed dragon.
“Is this the best 005 has to offer?” He grumbled under his breath.
I tried to ignore the criticism, but I knew I didn’t look like much.
I wanted to be an underdog anyway. Better to fly under the radar than to draw too much attention and end up with a target on my back.
I followed him into the office, where he took a seat at his desk and went over my brother’s file.
He glanced at me, then back at his form and started jotting down notes.
“Lied about height,” he grumbled as he scribbled.
“Damn kids filling out government IDs like they’re a matching profile.
Please provide accurate details in the future. ”
“Yes sir, sorry sir.” I kept my gaze trained on my lap. I was definitely a far cry from Vann’s five-eleven frame. My A2 hadn’t been able to replicate his 180 pounds at the weigh-in either.
He returned his attention to the file, swiped through some pages, then shoved the tablet back into his desk. He rotated in his chair and grabbed a small duffle bag from a pile behind him. He tossed it to me, and I caught it on reflex.
“You’re allowed only what you can fit in this bag.
Uniforms, bedding, food, and basic toiletries will be provided on arrival.
I recommend comfortable casualwear, athletic shoes, and a memento or two that will keep you motivated.
The shuttle leaves from station 4-B at 02:00, and you’ll be assigned a mentor and dorm room when you arrive.
You’re dismissed.” He never so much as made eye contact as he spoke.
Once I left the recruiter’s office, I was directed to an all-white room where they implanted a chip into my palm that would give me access to the school, then I headed straight to the Protectorate’s donation center to find some casual clothes that would better hide my body.
I stocked up on loose shorts and baggy t shirts and sweats.
I didn’t want anything that might make the shape of my hips obvious.
The A2 would help, but having clothing that didn’t match my false build wouldn’t do me any favors.
The only thing I already had were running shoes. Even my underwear had to be replaced for something that wouldn’t stand out when packed in a dresser or changing in a locker room. Reinventing myself as a guy was going to take some retraining my brain.
While I’d never felt out of place in a room full of men as far as interests go, things like learning to pick clothes based on how drab and unflattering they were, or being okay with washing my hair with the same soap I scrubbed my armpits with, was going to be a work in progress.
Maybe knowing how conditioner worked was a socialization difference, but it should have been a universal standard, dammit.
As much as I wanted to, I chose not to bring a memento. Family photos would easily give me away, and I didn’t want anything that might lead someone to wonder about my life prior to Astaroth. Vann’s CHRONO was going to have to suffice as my only tie to home.
Content with my packing, I headed to the station.
The Protectorate was dark at 0200, currently in a false night cycle that had been implemented to protect the natural circadian rhythm of the human body. The only lights were those that lined the raised walkways, as I made my way to Station 4-B.
I wondered what Saturn’s day and night situation might be. I still dreamed of experiencing a natural sunrise and sunset on Earth.
Maybe if Mictlan won the war, we could merge with the Empire and regain access to our origin planet. Maybe I could see Earth one day.
Though Astaroth Academy was technically located on a planetary surface, so perhaps I’d get to see a sunset there. I had been planning to ask Vann to send back pictures, but it looked like I was going to beat him there after all.
I boarded the shuttle and tried not to think about the heaviness of those thoughts.