My first week of training didn't go quite as I expected. Physically speaking, the effects of my fracture were an unknown variable, therefore, its functionality and limits needed to be tested. Before we could do this, however, since we didn't know if there would be any backlash, Dr. Simons recommended I get in the best physical shape possible before any major tests took place. I thought my first week would entail investigating my fracture, learning what I could and couldn't do with it. Especially considering Cheif Commander Rebane seemed so eager to use me in his operations.
Knowing that I was essentially being used for someone else's cause was a strange feeling too. Nobody was trying to hide the fact I didn't really have a choice in the matter, whether I liked it or not, I was going to be sent into combat against aliens. But it didn't bother me that much. I concluded that it was for the best. Not because of the whole 'for the sake of humanity' or 'you owe your fellow man' cliches, but because it was the right thing to do. I wasn't being grossly experimented on, held captive, or mistreated in any way. Well, not like you'd imagine anyway. I was still confined to certain areas of the base, Pinky and Perky were still babysitting me and when I was told to lightly test my fracture out, there were no restraints or gruesome medical procedures involved. I had relative freedom in the recreational areas, I'd been moved to a nicer residential block and the only traces of scorn I received were from people who saw me as some sort of lurker weapon.
I began to notice that the only people that weren't outright afraid of me were other people with fractures. Maybe it was because they felt secure, being more powerful than a regular human, or maybe it was because they had already been exposed to the effects of XQ energy. I couldn't tell. What became more obvious to me about life in Munama base was that there was a divide between people with fractures and those without. Maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was fear, no one seemed to be honest about it though. Munama wasn't the idyllic new world rebellion it first appeared to be. The fractured would socialise among themselves, which I think was part of the issue. Most of them didn't look down on unfractured humans, but some believed themselves to be gods gifts to the earth. Ironic considering their power originated from an alien race. Nonetheless, those types were condescending toward the unfractured, not recognising their efforts or acknowledging their value, like some form of upper-class undervaluing the hardworking proletariat. I couldn't help but think that while they blamed each other, they were both at fault in some way.
Following the meeting I had with Cheif Commander Rebane, Abi and Dr. Simons, a training schedule was drawn up. I had physical training three times per week, progressing to four times per week after the first month. Tactical training was twice a week, which included the standard procedures and protocols of active duty and weapons and combat training. Although I knew weapons training would be useful no matter what, if I managed to fully get to grips with my fracture sometime soon, then it felt like learning how to disassemble a rifle in under 30 seconds, blindfolded might I add, was frivolous. Fracture training only happened twice per week too, but Dr. Simons has already made three unscheduled visits during my downtime to ask if he could run some experiments, so unofficially, god knows how much work I'll be doing on that front.
As of the moment, my biggest issue was trying to assimilate into the social hierarchy here, in other words, make friends. Of course, there were people that wanted nothing to do with me and it wasn't hard to figure out who they were, they often stared at me as if I just threatened to shit in their soup. A look of both anger and confusion. Others were more welcoming though, my new teammates, for example. Teammates seemed a suitable term, I had considered 'colleagues' but the potential threat of death and destruction made 'colleagues' sound too trivial. So, teammates, it was. I hadn't met the entire unit yet, nor had I been debriefed on who would be in it, but I'd been informed my two instructors for tactical training would be in my unit.
Sergent Roberto Wirtz, formerly of Switzerland, was one of my instructor's and also a fractured himself. He insisted people call him Bobby though, I don't really know why, I always thought that Bob was a nickname for Robert in Britain only. He was a nice chap, friendly, if not unpredictably snappy, a bubbly personality I would say and on top of that, a great educator if I'm being honest. Learning under him was actually fairly simple. While he was a great guy, like any human, he had his flaws. He was a shameless flirt and liked to think of himself as something of a playboy, it was obvious. I could tell just by looking at him, he was a well-groomed man. Thick dark hair, parted off-centre and combed perfectly into position. No hint of any blemishes on his tanned skin either. Now, I understand fashion changes over time, and I'd missed twenty years of it, but his short pencil moustache would only be considered fashionable during the 1940s.
My other instructor was Corporal Hazaal Yilmaz, she was a few years younger at 25, but was just as formidable. I can't say I've ever seen someone as good with a gun as her. Not that I'd seen many, my main point of reference was myself and movies, but it was fairly obvious, even to the untrained eye, that she was incredibly capable. Hazaal was nice, incredibly witty when she chose to be and effortlessly funny. Sometimes it was difficult to figure out if she was intending to be funny, or if it was simply accidental. She wore her jet black hair in a high-knot ponytail, she had low cheekbones but her face was athletically slender and her ivy-green eyes contrasted beautifully with her dark skin.
My instructors worked well together too. More often than not they bantered among themselves, Hazaal's wit deflecting Bobby's neverending reasons to join him for a beer. I enjoyed their company, it was nice to see that there were people capable of having a laugh, it made a change to my usual contact with other people. Less of a serious atmosphere.
Today had been good, Hazaal was happy my weaponry work was coming along, my shot had got better and I was getting used to clearing rifle blockages. Bobby surprised me though. We'd started hand-to-hand combat training and at about 5'6", he wasn't particularly tall. He didn't look all that strong either, so when I, a 6'2" man, was told to try and knock him to the floor, I wasn't exactly hiding my confidence. I'd done a bit of kickboxing when I was younger as well, so I was no stranger to sparring, but my confidence was quickly stripped from me.
First thing first, if I was going to use my size advantage against him, I'd use my reach. So, after a little shuffling around the ring, I waited for the right moment and lunged for his waist. We'd put pads, helmets and gloves on but I figured if I grabbed him and simply threw him down, it would be easier than trying to knock him over with strikes. As I lunged, however, he hopped backwards slightly, perfectly timing a downward fist to the top of my head, leaving me to faceplant the floor of the ring.
I must have made more than a dozen attempts to knock him to the floor. Early on I realised the grappling was probably a bad idea, so I stuck to what I knew, punching and kicking. Still, I didn't manage once to knock him over.
I did manage to knock him off balance one time. I countered a rather wide swung punch with a front kick and he staggered backwards. All I could think about was how it was going to be my only chance, so I rushed him and threw another kick. Before I knew it he'd regained his balance and dropped low with a sweeping kick to knock me on my ass. He claims he staggered to draw me in and teach me a lesson, but Hazaal insisted he was talking crap.
Suspecting he was using his fracture, I casually brought up the topic and asked what it was. It was a bit of a risk, I still wasn't accustomed to the common conventions and courtesies involved when it came to fractures. Whether or not it was considered rude to ask still alluded me, but I wouldn't learn if I didn't test the boundaries.
"You're a lot stronger than you look, Bobby," I said, weary-eyed and removing my helmet. "Your fracture must enhance your strength, right?"
Having barely built up a sweat, the look of disgust he gave me as he unwrapped his hands suggested I'd hit a nerve. Unsure whether it was because I'd asked about his fracture or some other reason, I turned to Hazaal hoping for a bit of help, but all she said was "hey, don't look at me, you asked, you deal with it, buddy."
Just as I was about to turn back to Bobby and apologise, feigning my ignorance as inquisitiveness, Bobby place a firm hand on my shoulder. Gripping me hard, his pencil moustache angled downward as he frowned, his pointed finger in my face, he asked, "Now what exactly makes you say that, huh? A man of my stature can't be good at fighting, huh?"
His response confused me further, but I guessed it wasn't to do with his fracture. I stood there, speechless, unable to form a response. Slight specks of noise croaked from my throat as I tried to form words, but nothing came to mind. Bobby stood there, weaving his head around, attempting to focus my attention on him.
"Listen here, I trained for 18 years, I have taken on people twice your size, my fracture has nothing to do with it," he argued, obviously enraged by what I said. "I'm a natural fighter, you hear?"
Gobsmacked, the only words I could muster were "okay, my bad, I won't question you again?" I'm fairly certain this wasn't about his fracture at all, but something else entirely.
From the back of the room, all I heard was inconsolable laughter, it was Hazaal. "Ahaha, he has little man syndrome, you know because he's so small! Just ignore him, he'll get over it soon."
Bobby didn't seem too happy with Hazaal now either. He marched over toward her trying to gaud her into fighting him now too. Rather than acknowledge him, she continued to laugh and they bantered back and forth for a while.
After I had removed all the protective gear I had sparred in, I gingerly approached the topic again, "So, Bobby, urm, what is your fracture then?"
My two incredibly mature instructors stopped what I could only assume was an insult match and swivelled to face me, the air around them cooling as loud laughter gave way to quietness. They didn't look mad but certainly more serious. "I call it 'earth surfing.' If it's organic, I can dig through it with ease. Quite handy for covert missions. I'm a scout most of the time." he said.
His candidness surprised me, I thought for sure he would protest my question in some way. "Wow, that's handy. I'm still getting used to the fact people have the ability to do these sorts of things so I wasn't sure whether it was polite to ask, thank you for sharing." I replied, trying to show my genuine gratitude. "I don't know what my fracture really is yet, but I know it has something to do with XQ energy. In fact, I actually accidentally blew up a door after I woke up, so I guess I can exert it somehow-"
Before I could finish Hazaal spoke up, cutting me off, "We know about your fracture, well, probably as much as you do by the sounds of it. A piece of advice. Don't go around talking about it so freely, most of the fractured don't have a problem with you but the memory of what happened on the day of the descent still lives on in peoples memories. For a lot of people, the way they obtained their fractures still haunts them, some of the more unique of us suffered things you wouldn't wish on your worst enemies. Because of that, they might not react too kindly to you reminding them of it." I could tell she was being sincere, but there was an underlying message to her statement... it was a warning. "Bobby and I have spent a week with you already, we can tell you're not a bad guy, you're just like the rest of us. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time the day the apocalypse started. But it wouldn't be too wise to pry too much, at least, not until people are comfortable around you." She added.
She was right of course, it had occurred to me that it might be a touchy subject and of course, Hazaal just confirmed it for me.
"Anyway!" Bobby broke the tense mood, "If I'm right you have fracture training now, yes? Hazaal and myself will be coming too. Dr. Simons thinks having other fractured there to help speed things up would be a good idea. Something about forcing it out of you I think he said?"
'Forcing it out of me? what sadistic plans does he have now' I thought, genuinely concerned he might be an ex-war criminal.
We left the training room, meandering down the corridors and into another basement level. It wasn't where I'd been previously going before. Usually, I'd be taken to a small room in the research wing, near where I woke up and where Dr. Simons office was. This time, however, after reaching the other basement level we arrived upon one of the transports outbound for one of the sub-bases connected to Munama. I hadn't seen the system they used before, it was my first time and I can say resoundingly, that it didn't disappoint.
As more were recruited to the base, Munama expanded into the surrounding area, the sloping hills becoming home to facilities they couldn't accommodate in the main base. I was told the transport we were boarding to take us to Valla base, some 2 kilometres away, would take only a minute or so. What I imagined was an underground tunnel where we'd get into some sort of electric vehicle and be dropped off there. What I hadn't imagined was a futuristic shuttle car on magnetic rails running through a purpose-built tunnel. I say futuristic, but I keep forgetting to manage my expectations properly since of course, I was 20 years in the future.
Of course, I was amazed by the vehicle itself, but the boarding area didn't rattle me too much. In fact, it was eerily similar to home, London, and the old underground stations I'd frequented for half my life. Fortunately, unlike the old underground, my lungs were spared the ghastly intake of exhaust fumes and it didn't smell like an indoor race track.
Hazaal was right, we arrived in just over a minute. It amazed me. As I stepped off onto the platform I gawked like a child at the ride being so smooth, especially considering the speed we must have been going.
My moment of wonder was quickly squashed as the voice of Dr. Simons gleefully chimed in from behind me "It's quite remarkable, isn't it! You know the Japanese had the right idea all along, magnetic rail is a truly fascinating technology. Of course, our method of propulsion has been modified with scavenged lurker tech, but the outcome is virtually the same."
Drearily I turned to address him, the apathy in my voice clear as day, "oh hey doctor, who knew I'd be seeing you here." My sarcasm wasn't missed by Hazaal and Bobby who chuckled softly to themselves.
"It's good to see you too Peran, I'm particularly excited for today. I assume you've been informed why, yes?" he replied, eager as ever.
Unsurprised, I'd become accustomed to his strangeness now and quite comfortably retorted, "Erm, something about forcing out my fracture? Can I assume it's going to be as sadistic as it sounds?"
His face lit up, which from the little time I'd known him, I learned was a bad sign. "Yes, indeedy! Today we will be testing your fractures response to fight and flight in our specialised training facility here at Valla base," he pointed toward Bobby and Hazaal. "I requested the presence of your tactical instructors, especially for this occasion. Why you may ask? Well, they will be trying to kill you."