Chapter 8: Kit Issue

Embarrassment aside, Desrae’s change made me acutely aware of the reality of physical changes in general and fired off a series of speculative thoughts about healing and regeneration. I started to take note of the changes in my own body. If felt as if I was experiencing the benefits of six month’s road-work from one two hour run. I could feel that my legs were stronger and that the slight belly I had developed had almost disappeared. I had thought I was just getting my second wind, but this was definitely more than that!

I realised that we had run further than I had thought, and that our pace had been increasing constantly. We were now running almost twice as fast as we had been when we set out. In spite of the pace, I was surprised that I wasn’t hacking and coughing from my years of smoking. I couldn’t remember when, if ever, I had run as fast as this with as little effort. It seemed that the effects of processing were starting to pay off with an improvement in my lungs as well as everything else.

As we ran on, I saw that we had almost completed the circle and were returning to the parade ground.

"Looks as if we are almost finished the run." I said to Desrae, glad of the opportunity to talk about something that deflected the embarrassment I felt.

"About time. I have always hated running." came back from Desrae, with a touch of bitterness that I hadn’t expected to hear from her.

"Oh?" I queried, intrigued.

"Mostly because I blame running for the extreme pain and discomfort I experienced with early onset of arthritis" she explained.

"OK. That explains it."

"All better now though" she said with a self-satisfied smile.

When we arrived back on the parade ground, Fist-Leader Ryon was waiting, balled fists on hips and feet spread. Basically, the typical NCO stance. He had a scowl on his face as we ran in in drips and drabs, but stood patiently, obviously waiting for everyone to get back. We all fell in again into formation and stood waiting to see what would happen next.

"Right," started Fist Ryon, "I see all of you managed to drag your lazy carcases back here. Now let’s get started properly. Take a careful look around you. See if you can spot the people that you arrived with or that you got to know. You might find that you don’t recognise them anymore. That’s the effects of the processing starting to kick in. We have no idea what it is that Marek and his crew actually do to us when we get here, but we all enjoy the benefits of it. The purpose of our activities so far has been to kick start the process. You will learn more about this as we progress, but essentially, your body and mind will respond to what you do to make your more efficient at it. This means for example that if you exercise, then your body adjusts to match that exercise. It is just like normal training, except that the effects are incredibly fast. The first stage of the process is pretty much the same for everyone, but the amount of focus you apply to it will determine how far you can move into the second phase. What this means to you is that there is no magic wand effect, you still have to work, and work hard, to achieve the best results. It just means that the results are achieved a lot faster than they would be normally, and that it is possible to train to do things that you might not have been capable of doing before.

"Some of you will also have noticed that illnesses or injuries that you had before have either been repaired, or have progressed a long way on the path to being repaired, just in the last few hours. The same thing applies to that as to normal training; if you are injured, you just have to send a signal to your body that you want it to be active, and it will start repairing itself to enable you to do so. This does not mean that you are bullet-proof, just that you can recover from most things, even some of the most severe injuries. Kinda handy seeing as there is no real concept here of a hospital. Just the rough-and-ready first aid of your comrades, and their assistance to start moving again so that your body can heal itself.

"Let’s move on to the reason that you are here. This is War World, and you are here to fight. I know that most of you come from situations where there were projectile weapons and lost of mechanisation, so that you were transported in some or other way to and from the battlefield, in a vehicle or an aircraft. That is not the situation on War World. Here we rely on our bodies to transport us and on our physical and mental strength to fight. Our weapons are primarily swords.

"You will have realised that our structure here is somewhat different to what you might have been accustomed. Here is what you need to remember:

Five Warriors make a Finger,

Five Fingers make a Hand

Five Hands make a Fist and

Five Fists make a Fight.

You will now be divided into Fingers for the balance of your training."

Following that interesting speech, one of the people that had been pointed out as a Finger-Leader started calling out names. Once the five people that he had called out had joined him, the next started. The third called out my name, immediately followed by Desrae’s, and we moved quickly to join him. Once all five of us in this new Finger were there, our Finger-Leader ordered us curtly to follow him and moved off. We followed like ducklings after their mother as he walked rapidly towards one of the buildings.

When we arrived at the door, we had to wait for the Finger ahead of us to enter and our Finger-Leader stopped us.

He turned to us and said "My name is Jude Roberts. I will be your Finger-Leader during training. You may call me Finger Roberts, or just Finger-Leader when there are no others around. You will soon discover that this is my rank and position. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you to, and will not argue about it. If you have questions, they will be delayed until after I request them. Do you understand me?"

There was a murmur of "Yes Finger-Leader" and one misguided "Yes Sir". I wasn’t sure who said that.

"I am NOT Sir. I thought I just explained that. Get down and give me a hundred push-ups" Finger Roberts ordered with quiet menace. While I was busy doing the push-ups I thought quietly to myself that this was a much more effective technique than the usual blustering and shouting that I associated with drill-instructors and training cadre during basic training.

When we had all finished our push-ups, and no-one was more surprised than me by how they got easier to do the more we did them, rather than more difficult, we all stood up again.

"OK. Now that we have that out of the way, let’s see if we can get you your first kit-issue without too many SNAFUs. Single line. Go in the door."

With a chorus of "Yes Finger-Leader" we lined up at the door. I was second in line and looking forward to seeing what kit we would be getting.

As we entered the building, the place struck me as being completely different from any other Quartermaster’s Store that I had ever been in. Rather than a long counter with shelves up to the roof, there was a series of desks with what looked like a cupboard next to each one. Finger Roberts went ahead of us to the first desk and called Desrae, by name to my surprise, and she moved up to the table. She spoke briefly to Finger Roberts, then stepped inside the ‘cupboard" while he closed the door behind her. As he did so, he motioned me to come close. As I stepped up to him, he told me what I was sure would be repeated for everyone following:

"Step into the cupboard. Stand completely still. Once you have been scanned and measured, the door in front of you will open. Step through and wait at the table until you have received your kit, then move to the next station and repeat."

Just as he finished his spiel, the ‘cupboard’ opened on the far side of where it had opened before and Desrae stepped out. Once the door had closed behind her, the door in front of me opened and I stepped inside. The door closed behind me and it was dark for a few seconds, then a light started to moved from the ceiling down over my body. I felt as if I was inside a fax machine. There was absolutely no sensation or noise, just the light. When the light reached the floor, the door in front of me opened, startling me a bit. I stepped out and the door closed behind me.

I found myself standing at the table. I looked down and saw that there was now a pile of clothing on the table which I assumed was mine. I reached out and picked it up and looked for Desrae, only to see her disappearing into the next ‘cupboard’.

As I walked across to the next cupboard, I did a quick inventory of what I had received. I was expecting some more clothing, and at first glance it looked as if that is what I had received. A closer inspection revealed that this was actually a form of chain-mail. Exceptionally light, but definitely chain-mail made up of hundreds of little links of what looked like metal. I decided it couldn’t be metal though because it was too light. I didn’t have time to wonder though as I was at the next station and the door opened just as I got there.

I stepped into the second ‘cupboard’ and went through the same procedure. When I stepped out of this one however, what was waiting for me was a pair of shoes. Finger Roberts was there, and told me to put them on before moving on to the next station.

I sat down and pulled on the shoes. When I held them, they felt as if they were very light-weight moccasins, with the design of a pair of boots. When I pulled them on, they came up to just above my calves and they did that magic ‘adjusting’ thing again. As I started walking in them, I could feel that they hardened under my feet so that they felt as if I was wearing slippers with a tough sole. I decided that the boots I had packed weren’t going to be needed after all.

The rest of the kit stations went along similar lines. At the end of the process I had gotten new chain-mail, boots, a hat, cutlery and crockery and a training sword.

We all exited the building and stood waiting for Finger Roberts. While I stood there, I took a closer look at the sword. It came in a scabbard with a belt and I pulled it half-way out to see it. The sword blade was exactly as long as the distance between the tip of my fingers, and the crook of my arm. It was heavy, but I couldn’t determine what it was made of. It felt almost as if it was a mixture between wood and plastic. I had to stop my examination hurriedly when I heard a noise and looked up to find Finger Roberts giving me a baleful glare.