The Black Guardians: Book 4 in the Black Guard series, page 2
3 - South Lake Naval Station
By the end of the day, I and five others had been transferred to a military shuttle that had over thirty boys and girls on board. I assumed their ages ranged between eight and ten, although looking at them, several looked to be closer to seven while others looked older than ten. There had been very little talking during the four-hour ride to South Lake Naval Station. The younger children appeared either nervous or in shock while the older ones looked either depressed or lost in thought.
I remembered when I was eight, reading articles directed at parents who had or were considering having a third child. The articles discussed the problems children selected for the military encountered and suggested ways parents could help to prepare them for a life in the military. According to the articles, many parents intentionally failed to tell their child until a few days before they were scheduled to be picked up. As a result, the child was not only in shock but believed he had done something wrong and was being punished, or that his parents hated him and wanted to get rid of him. Others told the children lies about where they were going, saying or implying it was a fun place and they could return home when they chose. The result was generally a mentally damaged child, leading to drug addiction, an inability to form healthy relationships, and poor work performance.
Fortunately, my parents had not only followed the articles’ recommendations, but they and my brothers had gone above and beyond. I loved my family and would miss them and intended to write and visit as often as I could, but conversely, I understood what to expect, was excited about joining the navy, and was looking forward to what I thought would be an exciting life.
I was surprised when the back ramp opened and everyone exited the shuttle. I had been so immersed in my thoughts I hadn't realized we had landed. From what I could see from the elevated landing pad, the facility was located on a large inlet that led to the ocean. I could see five piers where a variety of boats were docked: small inflatable landing rafts, local patrol boats, and a couple ocean-going navy ships. The facility had at least thirty buildings ranging from long, wooden, one-story barracks, to three- and four-story cement buildings which were probably administration offices and classrooms, and an area that looked like family housing. In addition, there were several large open areas, which had men and women exercising or engaging in sports. Obviously, the station was not confined to teaching new recruits.
We were met by a middle-aged female petty officer second class, who conducted a roll call before leading us in a ragged two-person formation to a large two-story building located a half-kilometer inland. Inside was a large vestibule with models of warships ranging from sailing ships to spacecraft. The models were proportionately sized, from twenty centimeters to four meters. Each was on a pedestal with a monitor that gave information about the ship, where it had been deployed, and had a search function to locate historical information. On the middle of the floor was a three-meter diameter navy seal – Jax Navy – inscribed in a blue ribbon that circled crossed tridents with waves extending out on each side above a scroll inscribed with, Take No Prisoners.
The petty officer led us to a hallway on the right and into a several-hundred-person auditorium where over a hundred children sat. I found an empty seat next to a boy about my age, who reminded me of my brother Neil, and sat.
"I didn't notice what was playing when I entered," I said to the boy. "I'm Caitlin."
"I'm Ryan," he said with a goofy smile. "I think it's an old movie titled, You Are in the Navy Now."
Before I could respond, a tall man with a clean-shaven angular face, athletic build, and dressed in a summer white service uniform, walked up to the podium and picked up the microphone.
"Good afternoon, recruits, and welcome to South Lake Naval Station. I am Commodore Javril, in charge of the South Lake Indoctrination School. As a group, you have several things in common. For example, you are all eight or nine years of age, Jax citizens, navy recruits, and this is your first day. However, as individuals, you have significant differences, making it impossible to put you all in the same class. Some of you know little more than the language your parents speak and how to play games; others can speak multiple languages, have studied history, government, mathematics, etc.
“Our job at South Lake is to prepare you for your next school. To achieve that goal, we must first determine what you know and don't know, what you are good at and aren't good at. To do that, we will subject you to two weeks of interviews and tests. Based on the results of those tests, a curriculum will be developed for you to ensure you graduate from South Lake with the skills and knowledge you will need for the next school, which will train you for your career in the navy. This school is designed to be four years long; however, we are more concerned that you meet the minimum requirements than how long you spend here. Therefore, you may be here four years or only two."
He paused and pointed. "You will notice three tables in the back of the room with signs labeled one, two, and three. When Lieutenant Hagne calls your name, she will give you a table number. You will get up and report to the appropriate table. There you will be given an injection to insert a chip under your skin that will allow us to identify and track you. You will find that the chip saves you and us a lot of wasted time. For example, when you enter a classroom, you will be automatically identified as being present for class. It will also notify you if you are in the wrong class or if you are entering an area you are not authorized to be in, and it avoids the necessity for a roll call."
He stopped and nodded to a young female lieutenant, who approached the podium and without any introduction began speaking.
"When you hear your name called, raise your hand and stand," she said and paused to look at her tablet. "Bobby Shelden." She waited until a lanky boy raised his hand and stood. "Table three… Christine Hugh…"
Ryan leaned toward me and spoke in a low voice, "What do you think about the identification chip?"
"Better than a tattoo," I said with a grin. I had read about the navy's unique identification chips, which could only be accessed by special navy scanners and were removed when the individual left the navy. They were invasive, but extremely helpful, saved time, eliminated a lot of manual paperwork, and provided security for sensitive areas. "Easier to keep track of us. I noticed we aren't the only people in South Lake. I read there are at least twenty thousand persons in these naval stations."
"I wonder why they have all those boats here?" Ryan asked as we waited for our names to be called.
"Don't know, but there are three oceans on Jax." I shrugged. "Maybe they have a historical significance, used in our history class, or they are actually useful."
"Caitlin Quinn."
I stood and raised my hand when I heard Lieutenant Hagne call my name.
"Table three."
"Good luck, Caitlin," Ryan said in a low voice.
"You too, Ryan," I said, leaning close to him to keep my voice down.
I turned and began my way to the back of the room where I joined a line of several recruits waiting at table three. Each table had three persons: two petty officers and a lieutenant with a gold insignia – a caduceus held between two ocean-looking waves – indicating a medical doctor. The recruit would say his or her name, the petty officer would do something on the computer. A second petty officer would retrieve a chip from a second machine and pass the chip to the doctor, who loaded it into a device he positioned against the back of the recruit's left shoulder.
"Your turn," the girl behind me said with an amused tone. I had been so busy watching the procedure I hadn't realized the petty officer was waiting for me to give her my name.
"Caitlin Quinn," I said with a smile.
The petty officer used a stylist to tap on the screen multiple times before speaking. "Move to your right, Caitlin. Next."
The next petty officer smiled as I faced her. "Name?"
"Caitlin Quinn."
"Mother's maiden name and father's name?"
"Eveleen Mckenna. Brion Quinn."
"Look into this device and don't blink," she said, and I put my face close to the device and stared into it. "Now put your finger into this device." I did as she directed and felt a slight prick in my finger, knowing they were collecting finger prints as well as a DNA sample.
"Thank you, Caitlin. Now step over to the doctor."
I did and waited as the petty officer retrieved the chip from her device and handed it to the doctor.
"Caitlin, this won't hurt," the doctor said in a reassuring whisper. "This device will numb your arm before it injects the chip." He slipped the chip into the device and lifted my shirt to allow the device access to my left shoulder. I heard a soft escape of air and a feeling like he touched my shoulder with something cold. "All done, Caitlin. Return to your seat."
When I returned, I found Ryan still waiting. "I'm officially a member of the navy and on active duty," I said with a laugh. "It also means an end to my private life."
I had just finished speaking when they called Ryan's name.
Before he returned, the petty officer at the podium looked up and scanned the room. "Is there anyone here whose name I have not called or who has not received their injection?"
When no one raised their hand, the lights dimmed and the large screen behind the podium lit with a map titled: South Lake Naval Station.
"On the screen is a map of the naval station," Commodore Javril said, using a laser to highlight one of the buildings. “You are here in the Grandville Auditorium, affectionately called Granny since most of your lectures will be held here. The boys’ sleeping quarters are here." He highlighted a one-story rectangular building a half-kilometer to the northeast of Granny. "And the girls here." He highlighted a similar building a half-kilometer to the northwest. "Chief Petty Officer Milly will be in charge of the girls’ barracks and Chief Petty Officer Lionel of the boys’. They will be responsible for you when you are not in class. Failure to obey them or your class instructors or the rules can make your twenty-five-year commitment a very unpleasant experience. Conversely, following the rules and working hard can make for a satisfying and rewarding career."
4 - Testing
Chief Petty Officer Milly was a willowy woman with a stern-looking angular face framed by jet-black hair cut short, just covering her ears. "Girls, you will address me as Chief Milly, not sir or Officer Milly or just Milly. Chief Milly, nothing else." She spoke normally, but her alto voice could be heard at both ends of the building. "This barracks has one hundred beds. Since there are only fifty-three of you, I will leave it to you to select the bed you want so long as there is no fighting. If two or more of you want a specific bed, call me, and I will settle the matter. Take my word for it, each bed is the same, and there is no advantage to having one over another. Once you are assigned a bed, it is yours until I agree to let you change."
I looked around and decided to take Milly's word for it and dropped my bag on the bed I was standing next to, which was close to the middle of the room. She stood waiting until everyone was sitting on a bed.
"There is a whiteboard hanging on the end of the bed you have selected. Use the attached marker to write your name in large letters." Milly wandered the aisle inspecting each white board, stopping to correct or help until she was satisfied with the result. "Good. I am going to escort you in groups of ten to our supply building where you will be issued your navy clothing allowance. No one is to leave this building without my permission.”
She proceeded to select ten girls and left the building with them, returning for a new group about every hour or so. On my turn, I was weighed fifty-one kilos, measured 135 centimeters, and given three sets of work uniforms, underwear, and two sets of boots. It didn't take long as they came right off the shelf. "Unless the fit is uncomfortable or restricts your movements, don't worry about the fit. If you are with us for the full four years, you will grow out of your current issue and require a new issue several times. If you graduate sooner, you will be issued new uniforms at your next station."
It took her another hour to inspect everyone's uniform, see us washed, and ready for bed. "The light will go out at twenty-one hundred hours. I suggest you sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day. In fact, the next two weeks are going to be busy, and it is in your best interest to be rested so you can perform at your best. These tests will determine the courses you are assigned and the amount of time you will spend here at South Lake."
I talked with most of the girls in the vicinity of my bed, sharing abbreviated versions of our lives, and took Milly's advice and was in bed shortly after lights out. From my research, I knew the tests were important, and I was on a crusade to make officer rank and a position on the Bridge.
Chief Milly woke us exactly at zero six hundred hours, and had us dressed, washed, and on the way to the mess hall within forty minutes. The serving line had a good selection of breakfast items, enough to satisfy anyone's taste. We were given thirty minutes to eat. When we returned, we were introduced to Petty Officers First Class Pantano and Second Class Babson, who were Milly's subordinates and our superiors, and given an hour to relax and relieve ourselves.
"Recruits, I am going to split you into three groups," Milly said when she entered the barracks an hour later. As I watched, she appeared to be selecting girls by age and height. I wound up in group two. "Now, write your group number on your whiteboard, and group one follow me." When group one was led off, Petty Officer Pantano took group two, and Petty Officer Babson took group three outside and began teaching us to march in formation.
"What do you think about learning to march?" Axelle asked when we returned two hours later. "I doubt we march on a cruiser." Axelle occupied the bunk to my right. She was one month older than me, although five centimeters shorter. Like me, both Axelle and Lydie, who occupied the bunk to my left, appeared well adjusted to the idea of a life in the navy.
"I think it is mandatory as it makes it easier to take us from one place to another," I said having thought about it while learning to march. "At least for the first year, I doubt they want us wandering around by ourselves."
"It's part of teaching us discipline and molding us into the navy way" – Lydie laughed – "and getting us fit."
"I agree," I said. "Also part of our testing. They are evaluating how well we adjust to directions, how quickly we learn, and how much we remember."
"I agree," Axelle said. "We will be like bugs under an electron microscope. Everything we do, including our attitudes and responses to orders."
When Milly returned, she took group two to a two-story building where we were given a test that included material taught in first and second grades. That proved easy, since my parents had insisted I attend the local civilian school when I turned seven to help with my socialization and to ensure I had a basic education for my age. When we returned, group three was led off and we continued with marching drills.
"Well, Caitlin, how did it go?" Lydie asked as we relaxed after our dinner.
"I hate to admit it was pretty easy because I'm sure there will be plenty of hard stuff coming," I said, giving a wry smile.
"I had trouble with the Standard language," Axelle said, looking disappointed. "My parents never speak it. I took a couple of basic courses, but it's not the same as hearing the language spoken frequently in conversations."
I nodded in agreement. "My father knew Standard, so I had a private coach. He would frequently have our family speak Standard at the dinner table. I'm sure my vocabulary is limited to normal conversations, but I have a good foundation, so the test wasn't too hard."
"Then you are our go-to girl when we start learning Standard," Lydie said. "Your father's technique could be good for us. We could designate times, or places, or days where we speak only Standard."
Although we might be in competition at some point in our careers, I liked the idea. If they were smarter than me, our friendship could benefit me; if I were smarter than them, helping them wouldn't hurt me. Besides, I liked Axelle and Lydie and hoped we would each get the career specialty we wanted.
The next five days had a pattern. We started the morning with exercises, then were taken to a building where we were subjected to a variety of mental tests: how many animals could we name in one minute, determining patterns after watching a sequence performed, being able to remember pictures that were shown in a previous session, and number exercises like counting down in multiples of seven from one hundred. After lunch, we were introduced to indoor and outdoor games. The board games appeared to be controlled by luck–the roll of the dice or the draw of a card from a deck of cards–but there was always a strategy that helped to offset the luck component. The outdoor games usually required the person to throw or roll something into or close to an object. Of course, we continued with the marching, which now included double time.
At the end of the first week, the routine switched to team exercises, some indoor mental games, and an equal number of outdoor physical games. The interesting part was that our position or role was frequently changed.
By the end of the two weeks, we were all mentally and physically exhausted. To our relief, we were given two days to relax, although confined to a small area of the station that included the mess hall, barracks, a recreation center, and an adjoining sports field. Even that, I assumed, was a test of sorts as Milly, Pantano, and Babson roamed the area.
5 - The First Hurdle
Chief Milly entered the barracks at zero six hundred hours on the third day with several clangs of the barracks bell. After two days of no duties, most of us were disoriented, and the room was in chaos for several minutes. I saw brief smiles on the faces of several of the men and women standing behind Milly.
"We have been evaluating each of you for the past two weeks in order to determine what training you will need to graduate South Lake Station. We are separating you into three groups and assigning you to new permanent quarters. The following recruits will be in group one and will report to Petty Officer Madde." Milly paused as a small middle-aged woman with a pleasant face raised her hand. "Sandy Boxer, Laura Hamlin…”
