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Deep squats followed. Then knee bends.
John threw up, but that didn’t buy him any respite. A trainer descended on him after a few seconds. Johnrolled back over and continued.
“Leg lifts.” Mendez continued like he was a machine. As if they all were machines.
John couldn’t go on—but he knew he’d get the baton again if he stopped. He tried; he had to move. Hislegs trembled and only sluggishly responded.
“Rest,” Mendez finally called. “Trainers: get the water.”
The trainers wheeled out carts laden with water bottles. John grabbed one and gulped down the liquid. Itwas warm and slightly salty. He didn’t care. It was the best water he’d ever had.
He flopped on his back in the grass and panted.
The sun was up now. It was warm. He rolled to his knees and let the sweat drip off him like a heavy rain.
He slowly got up and glanced at the other children. They crouched on the ground, holding their sides,and no one talked. Their clothes were soaked through with perspiration. John didn’t recognize anyonefrom his school here.
So he was alone with strangers. He wondered where his mother was, and what—
“A good start, trainees,” Mendez told them. “Now we run. On your feet!”
The trainers brandished their batons and herded the trainees along. They jogged down a gravel paththrough the compound, past more cinderblock barracks. The run seemed to go on forever—they ranalongside a river, over a bridge, then by the edge of a runway where jets took off straight into the air.
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Once past the runway, Mendez led them on a zigzagging path of stone.
John wanted to think about what had happened, how he got here, and what was going to happen next . . .but he couldn’t think straight. All he could feel was the blood pounding through him, the ache in hismuscles, and hunger.
They ran into a courtyard of smooth flagstones. A pole in the center flew the colors of the UNSC, a bluefield with stars and Earth in the corner. At the far end of the yard was a building with a scalloped domeand white columns and dozens of wide steps leading to the entrance. The words NAVAL OFFICERSACADEMY were chiseled into the arch over the entrance.
A woman stood on the top step and beckoned to them. She wore a white sheet wrapped around her body.She looked old to John, yet young at the same time. Then he saw the motes of light orbiting her head andknew she was an AI. He had seen them on vids. She wasn’t solid, but she was still real.
“Excellent work, Chief Petty Officer Mendez,” she said in a resonant, silk-smooth voice. She turned tothe children. “Welcome. My name is Déjà and I will be your teacher. Please come in. Class is about tostart.”
John groaned out loud. Several of the others grumbled, too.
She turned and started to walk inside. “Of course,” she said, “if you prefer to skip your lessons, you maycontinue the morning calisthenics.”
John double-timed it up the steps.
It was cool inside. A tray with crackers and a carton of milk had been laid out for each of them. Johnnibbled on the dry stale food, then gulped down his milk.