***
Pond accompanied Waters and Riddick to the recruitment office, a vaulted building that would get any young adult pumped about joining the Marines. Large pictures and videos flashed over everyone’s heads, the images covering the entire ceiling and top half of the walls. Statues, plaques, and memorials decorated every spare square foot of the shiny floor, dozens upon dozens of prospective recruits bustled about, gawking at video footage and listening to base tour guides deliver speeches about America’s proud history.
The sights and sounds filled Waters with pride and patriotism. She was proud to be a Marine. She’d been serving her country and world since age eighteen. Hopefully the incoming generations would do just as well, and hopefully Riddick would be among them. She and Pond guided a fascinated Riddick into one of the offices and set to work on filling out his JROTC paper work, along with enrolling him in base school so he could learn English and get a basic education. Hopefully he’d be interested in it all. Chances were he would, since he enjoyed learning English and being able to communicate as needed.
Waters and Pond double-teamed the thick packets as Riddick listened to Holland, the recruiting officer, chat animated to him. He fixed her with his attentive gaze, asked questions and what certain words meant now and then, and Holland wore a big smile throughout her spiel regarding the Marines and their role in keeping Earth safe.
One wrist-straining hour later, the paperwork was almost completely filled out. Riddick would immediately begin receiving one-on-one tutoring under Waters’ constant supervision. Pond offered to help now and then, which made her raise an eyebrow. “What, and let you corrupt him even faster? I don’t think so.”
Holland said, “The girls will corrupt him fast enough. He’s one handsome boy. Girls are gonna melt under that attentive gaze of his.”
“I know what you mean.” Riddick carried himself with an alluring quiet confidence, and the person talking to him knew they had his undivided attention. On top of that, his lean build and olive complexion would turn heads, and even more so after completing boot camp. He was going to be a stereotypical chick magnet.
Waters flipped back to the beginning of the application packet. “Pond, what have you been putting in the first name and middle initial boxes?”
“Blank. You?”
“Same.”
Holland’s smile waned. “He doesn’t have a full name?”
“Wanna help us with it?” Waters said.
“Sure!” The recruiter adjusted herself in her swivel chair and studied Riddick. “He needs a strong name, one that fits his personality.”
“Tarzan,” Pond said with a grin.
Waters gave him a flat look.
Holland laughed. “Why do you say that?”
Neither of them had said much to Holland about Riddick’s origins, other than that he was an orphaned alien, and that’s why he didn’t know much English. Pond said, “He was king of the jungle we found him in.”
“How ‘bout ‘Henry’, one of the kings of England?”
“Ugh, no,” Waters said, making a sour face.
“Edward?”
“He’s not an Edward.”
“William?”
“Better, but no.”
“John?” Pond offered.
“Too generic,” Waters said with a shake of her head.
“‘Richard’ is the last English king I can remember off the top of my head,” Holland said, staring at the ceiling and tapping her chin with a finger. She looked at Waters. “The name carries weight.”
“It does,” she said, “but I feel like he needs a more exotic name or something.”
“I think we should go with ‘Richard’,” Pond said.
“We? I’m the one adopting him.”
He held up his hands. “Fine, fine.”
“I really like the sound of ‘Richard’,” Holland said.
Waters turned to the Furyan, who was watching all of them. “Riddick, what do you want your name to be?”
He shrugged. “Riddick.”
“That’s still your name, but just part of it.” She put a hand on her sternum. “Everyone calls me Waters, but my full name is Jade Waters.”
“I’m Steven Pond.”
“And I’m Julie Holland,” the recruiter said with a big smile.
Riddick looked at all of them in turn. “I’m Richard Riddick?”
Waters said, “Oh, you like the name ‘Richard’?”
He gave her a blank look, then shrugged again. “I like Riddick.”
Holland said, “I say stick with ‘Richard’ for now and give him time to grow into it. I bet you it’ll suit him well in the long run.”
“Works for me,” Waters said, not seeing any point in spending more time on naming the kid, since he didn’t care so long as he was still called ‘Riddick’. “That leaves us with just a middle initial.” She rubbed her sore eyes in an attempt to stop making the page blur.
“Make it ‘B’,” Pond said. “As in be, b-e. Richard be Riddick. Let him change it when he gets older and fully understands naming.”
Waters started penning in the complete name. “Could also stand for ‘beast’, a tribute to his animal side.”
“That too. So Richard B. Riddick it is?”
She nodded. “For now at the very least.” Pond joined her in scribbling Riddick’s full name on the top of every page.
10.
Three years later...
Riddick waited for his grappling opponent to throw a particular feint so he could dart in and execute a takedown. Russel favored leading with a left hook feint, followed by a jab, whenever he couldn’t get the upper hand. All Riddick’s flight members had blatant tells, yet none of them seemed to be aware of this. Once he had started picking up on the tells, he started learning how to subtly trick people into doing exactly what he wanted in a fight. He stopped losing fair fights a long time ago.
Russel circled him but Riddick kept them face-to-face, then swiped at his leading fist. Russel dodged and executed the feint combo Riddick was waiting for. He dodged under the swings with speed no one could match, grabbed Russel’s thighs, and slammed him onto his back, then began punching Russel in the face with gloved fists, until a whistle blew. He threw one last punch, just to get even with all the cheap shots thrown his way recently, then pushed to his feet.
“Stand down, Riddick!” Sergeant Tori, their TI, said loud enough for the whole base to hear.
Fists still raised, Riddick stood over Russel who was bleeding from a brow and lip. A fist grabbed Riddick’s shirt just under the chin. He reflexively seized the wrist and twisted it, heard a cry of pain, then let go and backed away when he realized it was Tori. A wave of guilt passed over him.
“That’s right. You better feel guilty.” Tori flexed his wrist as he stepped between the boys.
Russel slowly pushed to his feet as the rest of the flight gathered around their injured comrade. All of them wore glares aimed towards Riddick. Of course they glared. They’d all developed a severe dislike for him after boot camp, when they learned he wasn’t like them, that he was an alien. No matter how hard Riddick tried, he couldn’t fit in with his peers.
“I could have you court marshaled but I don’t think that’ll teach your pompous ass anything.”
Tori gave away his intentions when his gaze darted to Riddick’s stomach for a fraction of a second. Riddick dodged the sucker punch and put more space between him and the rest of the squad, the sun bearing down his back.
Tori narrowed his eyes. “That ego of yours needs reducing.”
“Not my fault you all move so slow.” He held up his fists, even though they ached for the knife he always kept concealed on his person. Not only would it reveal a trump card, it’d get him into more trouble.
“Oh, you’ll face someone faster than you one day. There’s always someone out there who’s better than you. Just you wait.” He glanced at Russel. “In the meantime, I hope you’re in the habit of sleeping with one ey
e open.”
“That’s enough, Sergeant Tori,” said a familiar deep voice.
Everyone turned and Tori stiffened. “Officer on deck!” Everyone, including Riddick, stood at attention and saluted Kenner, the biggest and coolest African American Marine Riddick had ever met.
“At ease.” Kenner marched onto the grass and Riddick perked at the sight of him wearing his fighter pilot jump suit. “I’ll take Riddick from here.”
“Yes, sir,” Tori said. “You heard him, Riddick. Go.”
Riddick grabbed his gear bag lined up with all the others next to the sidewalk, gave his flight a cursory glance, then fell in step beside Kenner, one of the Marines who’d found him on Furya three years ago. The two began marching towards the hangars as Riddick removed his sparring gear and stuffed it in his bag.
Once they were out of earshot, Kenner said, “Getting in trouble again?”
“They’re just butt-hurt they can’t beat me in a fair fight.”
“I saw you from the other end of the quad. Why did Tori try to sucker punch you?” He sounded annoyed.
“I took a cheap shot at Russel after Sarge blew the whistle.”
Kenner let out a frustrated sigh. “You know better than that.”
“He deserves worse.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s not your place. This is why you keep getting into trouble.”
“I don’t regret punching him.”
They turned down a diagonal sidewalk as two jets took off over the distant tree line. “You need to pick and choose your fights, and wisely.”
“But I can win.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking rhetorically.”
“I know but--”
Kenner held up a hand. “They’re not worth getting in trouble over. You’ve been balancing on the edge of getting court marshaled every since you graduated from boot camp. Do you really want to go to jail because of pathetic people like Russel and Tori?”
“I didn’t mean to grab his wrist like that. I just reacted.”
“I know. I saw. But you’ve got to get that under control. You act on a fighter’s instinct too much.”
“I try. I can’t help it. It’s how I survived all those years alone.”
“I understand. You’ve gotten better over the past three years. Putting that up against a good fifteen years living like a predatory animal, I’d say you’re doing very well. People just forget where you’ve come from.”
“No they don’t,” Riddick said darkly. “That’s why they bully me. They don’t think I deserve to be a Marine.”
“You’ve been one for two years. That’s just too bad for them. And you’re a damn good one.”
“Thank you, sir.” They showed their IDs at the gate leading into the airstrip and walked in among hovercraft vehicles coming and going. “Those years in the jungle are all a blur now.”
“Welcome to getting older,” Kenner said with a grin. “Now let’s go blow off some steam.”
Riddick took a quick shower before donning his own jump suit and following Kenner to two XGV-47s, agile two-seater craft suited for dog fights and had decent legs for intergalactic travel. Riddick had taken to flying right out of boot camp. Aircrafts fascinated him. He felt safest when in the air, where no one could touch him. He had a feeling this comfort stemmed from all the times he’d spent in trees, away from the bulk of predators.
He was on track to do space scouting, just like Waters, Kenner, and the others.
He and Kenner clocked in an hour of practice maneuvers and mock dogfights with harmless laser lights hooked up to a scoring system. Riddick smiled through it all, even when Kenner gave him tips and corrections over the radio. Towards the end, they competed with each other, racing through a practiced routine of maneuvers and stunts. Kenner always won, but Riddick didn’t care. He was catching up to his mentor’s decades of experience.
11.
Riddick normally ate all his meals in the cafeteria, regardless of how much anyone picked on him, but tonight Waters invited him to dinner and gave him a heads up that her family and squad would be there. Such gatherings never took place unless it was someone’s birthday or a holiday. Riddick was almost certain tonight wasn’t a birthday, since she hadn’t told him to go buy a card.
He wore his BDU pants, combat boots, and a white t-shirt to dinner, his version of casual attire. He hated dressing up, even though Waters always fussed over how handsome he looked in a suit and tie. At least her attention and approving smile made the cramped clothes worth the discomfort.
“Riddick! Hi!” Waters swung her door wide and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned as he breathed in the scent of her hair. Sensepert’s Sweet pea, her favorite shampoo. She also smelled lightly of a flowery perfume.
“Good evening, Waters.” They let go and Riddick presented her with a yellow rose. “Pond taught me to always bring a gift whenever I don’t know the occasion.”
Beaming, Waters took the rose and inhaled its aroma. “You certainly didn’t have to but I’m glad you did. Thank you. Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.” She threaded an arm in his, guiding him down the short hall and into the kitchen of her base ranch house. “The guest of the evening has arrived!” Waters positioned Riddick so he stood in front of her.
Riddick took in Waters’ family and squad with some trepidation. Not only did he not like being the center of attention, he didn’t like large groups of people. He wasn’t agoraphobic; just had a particular comfort zone. His present company wasn’t so bad, since he knew everyone, but one or two people at a time worked best for him. In groups like this, he didn’t know how to act, so he often quietly sat back and observed everyone. If people spoke with him, he conversed. Other than that, he just listened and watched everything he could.
Waters and the others clapped and cheered, then beckoned him to a long, cloth-covered table laden with plates, silverware, and snack foods. Devan and Tanya, the niece and nephew ran over and crushed his waist in hugs. “Congratulations!” they both said.
Hugging the kids back, Riddick gave Waters a raised eyebrow. Everyone except her was dressed casually for comfort. She wore a blouse and dress pants, ever the figure of professionalism, but he knew it was just a mask, just one side of her. He’d seen the loving one at the door, when they’d hugged. He’d seen a lot of it, until he’d become a Marine. After that, she’d treated him more like one of her soldier and an adult. He respected and cared about her more than anyone, but he was never sure how to show it.
She retrieved a vase from under the kitchen sink and began filling it with water. “You’re accompanying my squad and I on our next deep-space mission. It should almost guarantee your promotion to E-4.”
“Provided that you behave in the meantime,” Kenner said lightly. “Think you can handle one more month of good behavior?”
Waters clipped the rose’s stem and set the flower and vase on the island counter. “Something happen recently?”
“Just Tori being a bully,” Kenner said. “I handled it.”
Waters let out a defeated sigh, then adjusted how the rose sat in the vase. “Him and Fink both, but Fink thinks I’m playing favorites.”
“He hasn’t see Riddick fly, has he?”
“Nor does he care about his scores at the rifle range and such.”
“So he’s playing un-favorites,” Pond said. “Oh, well. At least Riddick gets to come with us.”
“That he does. And we’ve got grilled ribs, macaroni and cheese, and grill-roasted veggies to celebrate. Who’s hungry?”