Instead, Jared asked, ::Is everyone here Special Forces?::
::They are,:: Brahe said. ::Camp Carson is one of only two training sites for Special Forces, and the only training base of any kind on Phoenix. See how the camp is ringed by forest?:: Brahe motioned with his head to the edge of the camp, where earth-derived trees and native Phoenix megaflora competed for supremacy. ::We’re more than six hundred klicks from civilization in any direction.::
::Why?:: Jared asked, remembering Brahe’s earlier comment about the realborn. ::Are they trying to keep us away from everybody else?::
::They’re trying to keep everybody else away from us,:: Brahe said. ::Special Forces training isn’t like training for realborn. We don’t need the distraction of regular CDF or civilians, and they might misinterpret what they see here. It’s best if we’re left alone to do what we do, and to do our training in peace.::
::I understand I am behind in my training,:: Jared said.
::Not in your training,:: Brahe said. ::In your integration. We begin training tomorrow. But your integration is as important. You can’t train if you’re not integrated.::
::How do I integrate?:: Jared asked.
::First, you meet your training mates,:: Brahe said, and stopped at the door of a small barracks. ::Here we are. I’ve told them you’re here; they’re waiting for you.:: Brahe opened the door to let Jared in.
The barracks were sparsely furnished and like every barracks for the last few centuries. Two rows of eight beds lined the sides of the barracks. In and among them fifteen men and women sat and stood, eyes focused on Jared. He felt overwhelmed by the sudden attention; his BrainPal unpacked the concept of “shy.” He felt the urge to say hello to his training mates, and was suddenly aware that he wasn’t sure how to speak to more than one person through his BrainPal; near simultaneously he realized that he could just open his mouth and speak. The complexities of communication confounded him.
“Hello,” he said, finally. Some of his future training mates smiled at his primitive form of communication. None of them returned the salutation.
::I don’t think I’m off to a good start,:: Jared sent to Brahe.
::They’re waiting to say their introductions after you’ve integrated,:: Brahe said.
::When do I do that?:: Jared asked.
::Now,:: Brahe said, and integrated Jared with his training mates.
Jared had about a tenth of a second of mild surprise as his BrainPal informed him that as his superior officer, Brahe had limited access to his BrainPal, and then that datum was superseded by the fact that suddenly there were fifteen other people in Jared’s head, and he was in the heads of fifteen other people. An uncontrolled bolt of information seared through Jared’s consciousness as fifteen life stories poured into him and his own meager store of experiences branched into fifteen pipelines. Salutations and introductions were unnecessary and superfluous; in an instant Jared knew and felt everything he would need to know about these fifteen strangers who were now as intimately part of him as any human could be with another human. It was a mercy that each of these lives was unnaturally short.
Jared collapsed.
::That was interesting,:: Jared heard someone say. Almost instantaneously he recognized the comment as coming from Brian Michaelson, even though he’d never communicated with him before.
::I hope he’s not planning to make a habit out of that,:: another voice said. Steve Seaborg.
::Give him a break,:: said a third voice. ::He was born without being integrated. It’s a lot to handle all of a sudden. Come on, let’s get him up off the floor.::
Sarah Pauling.
Jared opened his eyes. Pauling was kneeling down next to him; Brahe and his other training mates formed a curious semicircle above him.
::I’m fine,:: Jared sent to all of them, keying his response to the squad-wide communication channel, which included Brahe. The choice to do this came naturally, part of the info dump of the integration. ::I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I’m fine now.::
From his training mates radiated emotions like auras, each different: concern, confusion, irritation, indifference, amusement. Jared followed the amused emotion back to its source. Pauling’s amusement was visible not only as an emotional aura but from the quirky smile on her face.
::Well, you don’t seem all that much worse for wear,:: Pauling said. She stood up and then extended her hand. ::Up you go,:: she said. Jared reached up, took her hand, and pulled himself up.
::Sarah’s got a pet,:: Seaborg said, and there was a ripple of amusement among some of the squad, and a strange emotional ping that Jared suddenly recognized as a form of laughter.
::Shut up, Steve,:: Pauling said. ::You hardly know what a pet is.::
::Doesn’t make him less of one,:: Seaborg said.
::Doesn’t make you less of a jerk,:: Pauling said.
::I’m not a pet,:: Jared said, and suddenly all eyes turned to him. He found it less intimidating than the first time, now that he had all of them in his head. He focused his attention on Seaborg ::Sarah was simply being kind to me. It doesn’t make me a pet, it doesn’t make her my master. It just means she was nice enough to help me off the floor.::
Seaborg audibly snorted and then removed himself from the semicircle, intently finding something else to be interested in. A few others broke off to join him. Sarah turned to Brahe. ::Does this happen with every training squad?:: she asked.
Brahe smiled. ::Did you think being inside each other’s heads would make it easier for you to get along? There’s no place to hide. What’s really surprising is that one of you hasn’t taken a punch at someone else yet. Usually by this time I have to pry a couple of trainees apart with a crowbar.:: Brahe turned to Jared. ::You going to be all right?::
::I think so,:: Jared said. ::I need a little time to sort everything out. I have a lot in my head, and I’m trying to figure out where it all goes.::
Brahe looked back over to Pauling. ::You think you can help him sort it out?::
Pauling smiled. ::Sure,:: she said.
::You’ve got Dirac-watch, then,:: Brahe said. ::We start training tomorrow. See if you can get him up to speed with everything before then.:: Brahe walked off.
::I guess I really am your pet,:: Jared said.
A wash of amusement flowed off Pauling toward Jared ::You’re a funny man,:: she said.
::You’re the second person to tell me that today,:: Jared said.
::Yeah?:: Pauling said. ::Know any good jokes?::
Jared told Pauling the one about Sherlock Holmes. She laughed out loud.
FIVE
Training for Special Forces soldiers takes two weeks. Gabriel Brahe began the training of Jared’s squad—formally the 8th Training Squad—by asking its members a question.
::What makes you different than other human beings?:: he asked. ::Raise your hand when you have the answer.::
The squad, arrayed in a ragged semicircle in front of Brahe, was silent. Finally Jared raised his hand. ::We’re smarter, stronger and faster than other humans,:: he said, remembering the words of Judy Curie.
::Good guess,:: Brahe said. ::But wrong. We are designed to be stronger, faster and smarter than other humans. But we’re that way as a consequence of what makes us different. What makes us different is that alone among humans, we were born with a purpose. And that purpose is simple: to keep humans alive in this universe.::
The members of the squad looked around at each other. Sarah Pauling raised her hand. ::Other people help to keep humans alive. We saw them on Phoenix Station, on our way here.::
::But they weren’t born for it,:: Brahe said. ::Those people you saw—the realborn—are born without a plan. They’re born because biology tells humans to make more humans; but it doesn’t consider what to do with them after that. Realborn go for years without the slightest clue what they’re going to do with themselves. From what I understand, some of them never actually figure it out. They just walk through life in
a daze and then fall into their graves at the end of it. Sad. And inefficient.
::You may do many things in your life, but walk though it in a daze will not be one of them,:: Brahe continued. ::You are born to protect humanity. And you are designed for it. Everything in you down to your genes reflects that purpose. It’s why you are stronger, and faster, and smarter than other humans::—Brahe nodded toward Jared—::and why you are born as adults, ready to fight quickly, effectively and efficiently. It takes the Colonial Defense Forces three months to train realborn soldiers. We do the same training—and more—in two weeks.::
Steve Seaborg raised his hand. ::Why does it take the realborn so long to train?:: he asked.
::Let me show you,:: Brahe said. ::Today is the first day of training. Do you know how to stand at attention, or other basic drill maneuvers?:: The members of the training squad looked at Brahe blankly. ::Right,:: Brahe said. ::Here come your instructions.::
Jared sensed his brain flooding with new information. The perception of this knowledge sat thickly upon his consciousness, unorganized; Jared sensed his BrainPal funneling the information into the right places, the now-familiar unpacking process launching branching paths of information that connected with things that Jared, now a full day old, already knew.
Now Jared knew the military protocols of parade drilling. But more than that came an unexpected emotion that arose natively in his own brain, and was amplified and augmented by the integrated thoughts of his training squad: Their informal array in front of Brahe, with some standing, some sitting and some leaning back on the steps of their barracks, felt wrong. Disrespectful. Shameful. Thirty seconds later they were in four orderly rows of four, standing at attention.
Brahe smiled. ::You got it on the first try,:: he said. ::Parade rest.:: The squad shifted into parade rest position, feet apart, hand behind backs. ::Excellent,:: Brahe said. ::At ease.:: The squad visibly relaxed.
::If I told you how long it takes to train Realborn to do just that much just as well as you did, you wouldn’t believe me,:: Brahe said. ::Realborn need to drill, to repeat, to practice again and again to get things right, to learn to do the things that you will learn and absorb in one or two sessions.::
::Why don’t the realborn train this way?:: asked Alan Millikan.
::They can’t,:: Brahe said. ::They have old minds, set in their ways. They have a hard enough time just learning to use a BrainPal. If I tried sending them the drill protocols like I just sent to you, their brains simply couldn’t handle it. And they can’t integrate—they can’t share information between themselves automatically like you do, and like all Special Forces do. They’re not designed for it. They’re not born to it.::
::We’re superior, but there are realborn soldiers,:: Steven Seaborg said.
::Yes,:: Brahe said. ::Special Forces are less than one percent of the entire CDF fighting force.::
::If we’re so good, why are there so few of us?:: asked Seaborg.
::Because the realborn are scared of us,:: Brahe said.
::What?:: asked Seaborg.
::They doubt us,:: Brahe said. ::They’ve bred us for the purpose of defending humanity, but they’re not sure we’re human enough. They’ve designed us to be superior soldiers but they worry our design is flawed. So they see us as less than human and assign us the jobs they fear might make them less than human. They make just enough of us for those jobs but no more than that. They don’t trust us because they don’t trust themselves.::
::That’s stupid,:: Seaborg said.
::That’s ironic,:: Sarah Pauling said.
::It’s both,:: Brahe said. ::Rationality is not one of humanity’s strong points.::
::It’s hard to understand why they think that way,:: Jared said.
::You’re right,:: Brahe said, looking at Jared. ::And you’ve unintentionally hit on the racial flaw of the Special Forces. Realborn have a hard time trusting the Special Forces—but Special Forces have a hard time understanding the realborn. And it doesn’t go away. I’m eleven years old::—a sharp pinging of amazement ricocheted through the squad; none of them could conceive of being that ancient—::and I swear to you I still don’t get the realborn most of the time. Their sense of humor, which you and I have discussed, Dirac, is only the most obvious example of this. This is why in addition to physical and mental conditioning, Special Forces training also includes specialized training into the history and culture of the realborn soldiers you will meet, so you can understand them, and how they see us.::
::Seems like a waste of time,:: Seaborg said. ::If the realborn don’t trust us, why should we protect them?::
::It’s what we were born to do—:: Brahe said.
::I didn’t ask to be born,:: Seaborg said.
::—and you’re thinking like a realborn,:: Brahe said. ::We are human too. When we fight for humans, we fight for ourselves. No one asks to be born, but we are born, and we are human. We fight for ourselves, as much as for any other human. If we don’t defend humanity, we’ll be just as dead as the rest of them. This universe is implacable.::
Seaborg lapsed into silence, but his irritation broadcast itself.
::Is this all we do?:: Jared asked.
::What do you mean?:: Brahe said.
::We are born for this purpose,:: Jared said. ::But can we do something else too?::
::What do you suggest?:: Brahe asked.
::I don’t know,:: Jared said. ::But I’m only a day old. I don’t know much.:: This got pings of amusement, and a smile from Brahe.
::We are born to this, but we’re not slaves,:: Brahe said. ::We serve a term of service. Ten years. After that, we can choose to retire. Become like the realborn and colonize. There’s even a colony set aside for us. Some of us go there; some of us choose to blend in with the realborn in the other colonies. But most of us stay with the Special Forces. I did.::
::Why?:: Jared asked.
::It’s what I was born for,:: Brahe repeated. ::And I’m good at it. You’re all good at it. Or will be, soon enough. Let’s get started.::
::We do a lot of things faster than realborn,:: Sarah Pauling said, dipping into her soup. ::But I’m guessing that eating isn’t one of them. If you ate too fast you’d choke. That’d be funny, but it would also be bad.::
Jared sat across from her at one of the two mess tables assigned to the 8th Training Squad. Alan Millikan, curious about the differences between realborn and Special Forces training, discovered that realborn trained in platoons, not squads, and that Special Forces training squads were not the same size as squads in the CDF. Everything that Millikan learned on the subject was sent to the other members of the 8th and added to their store of information. Thus another benefit of integration made itself known: Only one member of the 8th had to learn something in order for all the other members to know it.
Jared slurped at his own soup. ::I think we eat faster than realborn,:: he said.
::Why is that?:: Pauling said.
Jared took a big spoonful of soup. “Because if they talk and eat soup at the same time, this happens,” he said, drooling soup out of his mouth as he spoke.
Pauling put her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. ::Uh-oh,:: she said, after a second.
::What?:: Jared said.
Pauling glanced left, then right. Jared looked around, and saw the entire mess hall looking at him. Jared belatedly realized that everyone could, in fact, hear him speak when he used his mouth. Nobody else in the mess hall had spoken with their mouth during the entire meal. Jared suddenly realized that the last time he’d heard anyone else speak was when Lieutenant Cloud offered his farewells. Speaking out loud was weird.
::Sorry,:: he said, on a general band. Everyone returned to their food.
::You’re making a fool of yourself,:: Steven Seaborg, down the table, said to Jared.
::It was just a joke,:: Jared said.
::“It was just a joke,”:: Seaborg said, mockingly. ::Idiot.::
::You’re not very nice,:: Jared said.
&nbs
p; ::“You’re not very nice,”:: Seaborg said.
::Jared may be an idiot, but at least he can think up his own words,:: Pauling said.
::Hey, shut up, Pauling,:: Seaborg said. ::No one asked you to butt in.::
Jared began to respond when an image popped up in his visual field. Squat, misshapen humans were arguing about something in high-pitched voices. One of them began to mock the other by repeating his words, like Seaborg had been doing to Jared.
::Who are these people?:: Seaborg asked. Pauling too looked mystified.
Gabriel Brahe’s voice popped into their heads. ::They’re children,:: he said. ::Immature humans. And they’re having an argument. I’ll have you note they are arguing just like you were.::
::He started it,:: Seaborg said, looking for Brahe in the mess hall. He was at a far table, eating with other officers. He didn’t turn to look at the trio.
::One of the reasons the realborn don’t trust us is because they’re convinced we’re children,:: Brahe said. ::Emotionally stunted children in adult-sized bodies. And the thing about that is, they’re right. We have to learn to control ourselves like adults do, just like all humans do. And we have far less time to learn how to do it.::
::But—:: Seaborg began.
::Quiet,:: Brahe said. ::Seaborg, after our afternoon drill you have an assignment. From your BrainPal you can access Phoenix’s data net. You get to research etiquette and interpersonal conflict resolution. Find out as much as you can, and share it with the rest of the 8th by the end of the evening. Do you understand me?::
::Yes,:: Seaborg said. He glanced over at Jared accusingly and then lapsed silently into his food.
::Dirac, you get an assignment too. Read Frankenstein. See where it takes you.::
::Yes, sir,:: Jared said.
::And don’t drool any more soup,:: Brahe said. ::You look like an ass.:: Brahe dropped his connection.