The Recruit
By; Gerald A. Polley

Chapter  2

    They flew through the night.  When Imal woke the other passengers were muttering excitedly.  "We're coming over the coast!" one of them remarked, "Flying right over the road that runs down the middle of The Republic!"  
    One of the young women that had been serving them spoke up.  "The Republic runs right along these two nations' borders.  That road marks where their border used to be.  We have ten miles in each country.  This particular Republic runs right around the country to the left, and splits off sharing the borders with other countries.  Our presence here keeps the peace.  These countries have long been feuding with each other.  Now, in order for one of them to attack the other, they have to pass through our territory, attack us first.  And they don't really want to do that.  The airfield is just inland. We'll be landing in a few minutes. Take your seats, fasten your seat belts.  Stay together. An officer will pick you up and take you to your buses.  Good luck gentlemen!"  
    Imal noticed a yellow band on the cuff of the woman's uniform.  As they got off the plane he noticed the other women didn't have one.  "What's the yellow band mean?" he asked one of his companions.
    "Oh!" one of the other young men answered, "You noticed that too, huh?  She's a prisoner, a convict.  But she's allowed to work outside a labor camp.  Probably has to spend her off duty time at a minimum security detention area.  They're given quite a bit of freedom if they don't cause trouble. I guarantee you, they don't want to cause trouble!"
    Imal nodded.  Their escort picked them up and got them to their buses.  As they were driving towards the training camp, Imal looked to the officer and remarked "Can I ask a question?"
    "Of course!" the officer answered.  
    "Why is everything so green here? You could see it from the plane. This strip of land is lush, all kinds of  crops everywhere, yet just over your borders barren desert."
    The officer smiled. "See those towers?" he remarked, "They're situated at intervals all along the road.  They're condensation towers.  Even though this area is dry there is moisture in the air.  The condensation towers take it out.  It's used to irrigate crops and supply our water.  We use it over and over again.  We have to bring in very little water.  The system is being used at all our colonies."
    "Incredible!" Imal remarked.  "Is it offensive to ask, sir, do you consider you're one of these aliens, one of these Havens?"
    The man laughed.  "No!"  he answered, "I used to belong to a race they called The Hashons.  Quite different from The Havens.  But we are allies and will return to the stars with them.  Get your things together!  We're coming to the base!  I'm afraid there's been an incident, and you're going to get the unpleasant welcome.  Pay attention to it."
    In a few minutes they were standing in line with perhaps three hundred other young men.  "Put down your bags!" an officer ordered.  "They will be perfectly safe, no one will bother them.  March into the parade area and take seats in the bleachers."
    When they were seated Imal saw four tables and a strange looking machine with a large blade.  After everyone was there a young woman came before them.  
    "My name is Sharon," she remarked, "I am a commander of this base.  I will, at some point, personally interview each one of you as we discuss your future.  After you witness punishment you will be taken for medical exams, after you have been assigned to temporary quarters.  We do not have the personnel to escort you all the time.  So learn where you are.  There are bulletin boards everywhere showing where you are and the route to other facilities.  If you get completely lost go to a guard station.  Now!  You've been told young recruits are not to be touched.  They are not the older boys' play things, they are soldiers.  You will assist in their training and treat them with all respect!"  She waved her hand and five young men already naked, were dragged out. "These five thought they were real tough warriors.  They raped a young boy.  These four left.  Their leader came back thinking he would make sure the boy never told by killing him.  Outside of our territories the mode of execution we use is hanging.  Here and in the rest of our territories, the mode of execution is beheading.  Executioner!  Perform your duties!"
    One of the young men was dragged to the strange looking machine.  His legs were strapped together and his hands were strapped to his waist.  He was then laid on the machine, face up so he could see the menacing blade.  The executioner stepped back, took ahold of the leaver and pulled it.  There was a loud snap.  The executioner then reached down, picked up the young man's head, and displayed it.  His eyes were still open and there was a look of horror on his face.  Imal was close enough to see it.  
    "Now!" the commanding officer snapped, "These four have been prepared for the punishment that they will receive.  I want all of you to see it.  When the doctor is done I want you to come down and take a good look so you'll know we're not kidding.  Doctor!"
    The four young men were strapped on the tables.  The doctor picked up a scalpel, went to the first one and began to work.  He screamed horribly.   "No anesthesia?" Imal muttered.  "Their victim didn't have any anesthesia!"  a young man next to him remarked.  After the doctor was finished and moved to the next young man, someone came forward and stitched up the wounds.  When the doctor was done there was a small burner between two of the tables.  She deposited what she had removed into it.  
   "Come down!" the commanding officer snapped.  Imal walked by all four of the young men. Three of them just moaned.  The last one kept saying "Please!  Please kill me!  Please! Please kill me!"  Imal noticed the doctor watching him curiously.  They were taken to their quarters and then to the medical center.  No sooner did they get there than the doctor singled out Imal, had him strip, and throroughly examined him.  
    "You're limping!" she remarked.  "What's the matter with your left foot?"
    "I injured it," Imal answered, "It still bothers me from time to time."
    "Hmmm!" the doctor snorted. She turned to an attendant. "Full scans of the foot, both feet!  Get that hip too.  Give me the readings as soon as you have them.  Everything else seems all right, but I don't like that foot. We'll see what the blood tests show.  The initial ones were all right. Why in the hell didn't they notice this?"
    Imal was taken into a room, put on a table, and a strange looking machine was passed over him.  The attendant came out, adjusted his position several times, and the machine passed over him again.  A while later he was dressed and the doctor came in.  "You can't begin training," she snapped, "you're going to have to have corrective surgery on your foot, or in very short order it may have to be removed.  But we should be able to fix it fine.  There's a charity fund that will give you an allowance while you're waiting to begin the training.  It'll probably be three months. All the educational facilities will be available to you. I wouldn't waste the time!"  
    "Well," Imal sighed, "If you've gotta do it, you gotta do it!  I didn't think it was that bad!  Isn't there a way that I can draw some money on my future pay?  I really don't like to take money from a charity unless I have to.  I'm quite sure there are many others that need it.  If I'm still going to be able to serve I'd much prefer that."
    The doctor smiled.  "I will convey your wishes to the paymaster's office," she snapped. "I'm sure they would be very pleased to set up the account.  Yes.  I think we will want you to serve with us.  You may  return to your quarters. We'll let you know when the surgery is scheduled."
    "Thank you!" Imal snapped, coming to attention and saluting in The Republic's manner. The doctor smiled and returned the salute.  As Imal headed back to his quarters he got disoriented, wasn't exactly sure where he was.  He saw a guard post where young men in training who had gotten passes to the nearby town were returning. He headed that way.  Outside the gate he saw a bus stop, but instead of several dozen young men getting off it, only five got off. There was something about them, something about them that Imal didn't like. Suddenly he quickened his pace.  He realized what it was!  He had to get to the gate!   He had to get there quickly!  

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