Chapter 5: Hurdles

Moralez sat at a table in the gym, leaning over a toy barn. He dropped a wooden block shaped like a star into a matching hole, then picked up a circle in his prosthetic hand, manipulating the wooden shape in his fingers and inserting it into the appropriate slot. This was a toy for toddlers, he didn’t see the point of it.

Kaisha hovered nearby, recording data on her tablet computer.

“The dexterity is really amazing,” she said as she observed him. “I might have to ask the imaging wing to take a scan of your neural activity, we might find out something that could help us with our other patients.” She watched him insert a yellow triangle into its hole, then set the tablet down on the table beside him. “So I talked to Miss Raz earlier today, she told me that she met you at the recreational facility yesterday. She mentioned that you had some kind of ... problem with your prosthetics? Did you not want to talk to me about it? It could be important.”

He forced a square block into a square hole. Damn that Raz, couldn’t she just mind her own business?

“Just a glitch. As you can see, I’m fine now.”

“Well ... that’s not all she said. She told me you were afraid, avoidant. I’m sensing some of that avoidance right now. Why won’t you talk to me? If there’s something bothering you, something interfering with your neural link, bottling it up won’t help you get better.”

He rose to his feet abruptly, a little unsteady on his leg.

“Let’s go for a walk, it helps.”

Kaisha hesitated for a moment, then nodded, following him out to the torus.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the exercise and fresh air making him feel more in control. His prosthetics began to respond more accurately to his commands. Kaisha seemed to notice it too, watching his demeanor change and his gait become more natural.

“A while ago, you asked me if what happened to me made me feel ashamed,” he began. There were so many people around him, but he wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing his confessions. There was anonymity in a crowd.

“I remember, yes. You didn’t reply,” she said, keeping pace beside him.

“I’m worried that if I tell you how I feel, you’ll think less of me.”

Kaisha seemed more frustrated than concerned, looking down at him with a frown.

“You’re always so concerned with how other people see you, how other people feel, that you never take the time to ask yourself how you feel.” Kaisha stopped him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He feared that he might seize up again and that his leg would fall out from under him, but her touch was different. Soft, gentle. “This is about you, Lieutenant. Your recovery, your rehabilitation. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“But what you think does matter, Kaisha, it matters to me...”

“What happened to you wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do to fight off a Borealan who was three times your weight, nor was there anything you could have done to save your limbs. You must realize that and move past it. Nothing can change what happened, but you can go beyond it, the past doesn’t have to haunt you like this.”

His leg buckled and she caught him before he fell, helping him over to a planter in the middle of the walkway so that he might sit on the side, the green leaves of the shrubs tickling the back of his head.

“There’s massive interference,” Kiasha said, holding up his arm as the polymer fingers twitched violently. “You have to communicate with me so that I can help you,” she insisted. She stared at him with her reflective, blue eyes, concern etched on her face.

“It felt ... good,” he stammered, his arm rattling audibly in its casing. His stomach churned as if he were admitting to some disgusting secret. “I was scared, I was angry. But as I lost the will to fight her and started to just ... let her have her way, when I didn’t have the strength left to keep resisting her...” Kaisha watched him intently, her expression neutral. “It felt ... good. I felt like I had no control over my body, she moved over me, and it responded to her against my will. It didn’t matter how I felt about it.”

“I see,” Kaisha replied, trailing off. Moralez’ guts knotted, terrified that she might just disown him and leave him here, sitting in the middle of the station on his own. Instead, her expression softened and she perched on the planter beside him, her fluffy tail trailing into the bushes behind them. She straightened the white coat that she always wore, taking a moment before continuing.

“Why do you blame yourself for what happened to you?”

He had to think about it for a moment, trying to calm down and breathe more regularly.

“I’m a Marine. I’m supposed to be in control of my men, the situation, myself. I’m supposed to be disciplined, but I lost everything on Kruger. The men under my command were killed, my limbs were blown off, I couldn’t fight Azi. I did my best, but it was never good enough. I was powerless to stop any of it.” Moralez felt Kaisha’s furry hand on his shoulder again, the weight of it was somehow comforting. “If I had been a better leader, if I had made different decisions, maybe they would still be alive. Maybe there was something that I could have done to take Azi down, I tried to stab her in the neck. Did I telegraph the attack? Could I have shot her if I had drawn quicker? She forced herself on me, and some part of me enjoyed it, what does that make me?”

Kaisha wrapped her arms around him, pressing his head into the downy fur that protruded from beneath her collar, her embrace warm and gentle. He felt her breath ruffle his hair, and the heavy thud of her massive heart calmed him, the rhythm somehow soothing. She smelled good, like perfume, and her silky coat tickled his cheeks. The trembling in his arm diminished, and he gained more control over it, the vibrations ceasing as he let it rest about her waist.

“You’ve not done anything to be ashamed of, Lieutenant. I don’t think less of you, I think more of you. You went through so much in so short a time, and yet you’re making faster progress than anyone I’ve ever treated.” He felt her hand stroke the back of his head, the sensation soothing. “Don’t you feel better now that you’ve gotten it off your chest?”

He withdrew from her hug, and looked at his hand, flexing the fingers. Not perfect, but better, much better. It was almost as if the prosthetics were a direct indicator of his emotional state. A line-in to his subconscious mind.

“I should have trusted you from the start,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine, these things take time. You’re exhibiting many symptoms of a stress disorder, which is a completely normal reaction to an abnormal experience. I can fix that.”

“I take it this won’t be as easy as just bolting on a new arm?”

“Not even remotely, but I can only succeed if you talk to me. We have to work together on this.”

Moralez nodded, standing up. His leg was still a bit wobbly, but if he started walking again, he knew that it would even out.

“You hungry? Sandwiches are on me,” he said. He offered her his hand, the fingers extended. Kaisha took it and rose to her feet, a smile on her furry face as she towered over him. The previously garbled signals now interpreted her fluffy palm and the pads on her fingers as they closed around it.

“I want bacon today.”

Kaisha chewed her giant sandwich happily. There must have been at least a pound of bacon in it, along with all the grease and butter that her kind so enjoyed. She must have an incredible metabolism to be able to eat as much as she did. Moralez watched her, smirking as she used her textured, feline tongue to clean the oil from her furry fingers. He took a bite of his meatball sub, savoring the taste. It would barely have been a mouthful to her, and he wondered what the cost of feeding even the minority of Borealans who were stationed on Pinwheel amounted to. One of the many benefits of living on the station was real food, it beat attempting to warm up an MRE in a rainstorm any day.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Kaisha commented, taking another bite of her sandwich and mumbling as she chewed. “Being around recruits could be beneficial. It’s like exposure therapy, you’ll see that they aren’t dangerous and that what happened to you was an exception to the rule.”

“I don’t know, a whole room full of Mad Cats?”

Kaisha chuckled, swallowing.

“They’re just kids, Lieutenant. They’re probably nearly as scared as you are, it’s their first time off-world, they’re in a new environment surrounded by aliens.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Besides, Raz will be there to keep you safe. I can come too if you want.”

“If you have the time, I’d appreciate that.”

“Well, I’m free right now. Let me see what Miss Raz is doing, hang on.”

She rose to her feet and walked across the plaza to one of the walls. There were monitors inlaid at wide intervals in the hull of the station, Moralez had never noticed them before, were they some kind of payphones? She typed in what must have been an address, and after a momentary delay, a flare of orange hair appeared on the screen. She was too far away for him to eavesdrop, but the two aliens talked for a couple of minutes before Kaisha terminated the connection and returned to their bench.

“We can go see her right now if you’re ready,” she said. Moralez chewed his sandwich, considering. “Thinking about it won’t help, better to just commit.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

It was a fairly short walk as the military quadrant was adjacent to the tourist quadrant, and the crowds of personnel on leave were soon replaced with uniformed soldiers with places to be, hurrying between the larger aliens like cars passing trucks on a highway. Kaisha led him to a building that was just across from the recruit barracks. Both were squat, spartan buildings, colored the same off-white as the floor and walls of the torus. They entered through the main door into a hallway, tall enough for Kaisha to stand without crouching, and probably for two of the aliens to pass each other without colliding. The doors that lined the walls were equally large. This structure had been constructed, or more likely modified, with housing Borealans in mind. Rather than feeling as if he were in a Borealan-sized building, the human style made him feel as if he had shrunk down to the size of a child. He might as well be a kid being dropped off for his first day of school by his mother.

Kaisha’s round, fluffy ears swiveled, she could obviously hear the class, wherever it was taking place. He followed her down the hall, and they turned a corner, Kaisha selecting what seemed to Moralez to be a random door. She ushered him through, and he found himself standing in a room with a dozen seated Borealans and a grinning Raz.

“Kaisha, Lieutenant Moralez, I’m glad you decided to join us.”

The Borealans watched him curiously, all clad in matching blue uniforms that labeled them as recruits, a dozen pairs of feline eyes scrutinizing him. Most were of the red-headed variety like Raz, but here and there was a head of black or blonde hair, and some had skin tones noticeably darker than the others. Their markings varied too, some had tiger stripes while others had spots like a cheetah or a leopard. It was hard to determine their ages. They didn’t seem to be children, but they clearly weren’t veterans either. If recruiting age for Borealans was anything like that for humans, they were probably in their late teens and early twenties.

He felt out of place and self-conscious as they examined him with their feline pupils. Into the goddamned lion’s den, he thought to himself, his prosthetic fingers beginning to tremble.

“Recruits!” Raz bellowed, her voice commanding. “This is Lieutenant Moralez and Doctor Kaisha, you are to treat them as Alphas, they will be sitting in on today’s lessons.” The recruits stood and saluted in unison. They were well drilled, it must take a firm hand to keep this many of them in line. Moralez felt his confidence rise a little. This was a military setting after all, and he ranked higher than anyone here. Not that rank had mattered at all to Azi, but it was still a familiar environment.

Raz waved Moralez over, and he walked to the front of the class to stand beside her, his head scarcely reaching her bust. Meanwhile, Kaisha found a Borealan-sized seat at the back. They seemed almost as curious about her as they were about him, and he was a tiny half-ape, half-cyborg. Were Polars uncommon on the homeworld?

“As many of you are fresh off the shuttle,” Raz began, “you will not have had many interactions with humans. You are here to learn, to socialize, and to gain an understanding not only of how humans behave but how you must behave around them.” She gestured to Moralez, who was standing patiently, not really understanding what he had just signed up for. “Status among humans is not decided by size, weight or strength. It is decided by,” she balled her fist to punctuate the statement, “accomplishment!”

One of the recruits asked her a question in their native language, hissing and gurgling.

“English only in class, Korza,” she replied tersely. The alien steeled himself and tried again, this time in broken English with an odd, rolling accent.

“How you know accomplish ... ment?”

“The UNN is divided into ranks. The lowest, like you fleabags, are privates. You have no accomplishments, you will obey all orders given as if they came from the mouth of your Patriarch.”

Raz retrieved a long, telescoping stick from her table, and pointed to Moralez. He was wearing a UNN-blue dress shirt, one sleeve tied where his left arm ended, and matching pants that ended in a single boot. It wasn’t quite formal, but Moralez had no civilian clothes on hand, and he had been provided with standard issue replacements for his shredded gear when he had arrived on the station. She hovered over the single, silver bar on his collar.

“Observe the metal badge, you will learn to recognize them. This one indicates the rank of First Lieutenant. Markings and medals also appear on the chest, here.” She moved the pointer down to his breast, although he had none to display at that time. “Any questions?”

Korza raised his hand again, and Raz nodded to him.

“What happen to you?” the Borealan asked. Raz shot him an angry look and hissed something, and the alien bowed his head submissively. “Sorry, what happen to you, sir?”

Emboldened by having his rank clearly stated, Moralez felt like giving the aliens a show. The slight trembling in his digits had abated, and he raised the arm to his face, catching the sleeve in his teeth and pulling it back to expose the length of the robotic arm. He held it above his head so that they could get a good look at it, flexing the fingers. The recruits muttered amongst themselves, curious and surprised.

“I lost my arms to a grenade, and one leg to cannon fire from a Penguin’s twenty-millimeter cannon.” He pulled up his trouser leg with his hand, showing off the stylized prosthetic. “We were fighting Bugs, Betelgeusians on Kruger III. We encountered a new variant, warriors, bigger and stronger than the drones that we were used to fighting. They were resistant to railgun fire, grenades, and bayonets. The only way we could bring one down was cannon fire, but it was practically on top of me at the time. My leg was hit by a shell during a strafing run, then the grenade that I had been cooking went off in my hands. My armor stopped the shrapnel from killing me on the spot, but it was a close call. Half of my organs were replaced too.”

The recruits seemed impressed by this, nodding approvingly and murmuring to each other. Borealans were a martial people, and it seemed that they respected conspicuously injured soldiers as if it were some kind of achievement. In a way, being back on his feet after such an ordeal was.

Raz gestured for him to take a seat and so he moved to the back of the class, hopping up onto one of the oversized stools next to Kaisha. A few of the aliens turned their heads, sneaking looks at the pair.

What followed was a class on military insignias and command structure. Moralez was all too familiar with it, but seemed to be a new concept to most of the recruits. There wasn’t much for him to do besides wait, but as the lesson dragged on, he started to become less anxious around the massive aliens who filled the room. They were entirely submissive towards Raz, and he assumed anyone who outranked them. There was no hint of the aggression that Azi had displayed towards him. That said, Lambda pack as a whole had been submissive to him at first, it was only when Azi had seen her chance to take command that her attitude had changed.

“Feeling okay?” Kaisha whispered. He nodded, clenching his mechanical fist. There were no tremors, but he felt hyper-vigilant, on edge as if waiting for something to go wrong. He missed the comforting weight of his M1911 on his hip. Come to think of it, where was his gun? He had been wearing it on Kruger. Had it been destroyed by the grenade? Unlikely. Maybe he’d inquire about it when he got back to the hospital.

His train of thought was broken as a man entered the room, he was human, wearing insignias that labeled him as a firing range instructor. Raz seemed especially happy to see him, and the recruits stood to salute.

“How are they doing, Raz? Ready for some more hands-on training?”

She called the recruits to attention, and they rose to their feet, falling in and filing out of the room in a line. Kaisha stood, and Moralez followed her lead. They left the building, exiting onto the torus, and made their way towards what must be the firing range. The Borealan recruits stayed close-knit, with Raz at the head of the formation, while Kaisha and the two humans walked nearby. It reminded Moralez of ducklings following their mother.