Chapter 8
To say the first day of Basic Training was hell is an understatement. While we arrived relatively early in the day, around 5 or so in the evening, she put us through our paces. Push up’s, sit ups, burpees, flutter kicks, then a light run… for someone who never exercised a day in his life willingly, it was brutal. We were finally released to take our things into the hab, and take a shower, maybe an hour after we had arrived.
As the mass of sweaty, grumbling teenage angst entered the building, we filed into a single hallway that ran the length of the building. You could see clear through to the other end, with doors placed every 10 or so feet along the interior. At either end of the hallway sat a small entry room with a desk, large enough to fit two people sitting there. We were greeted by another two MTI’s who handed each of the 46 of us a small, laminated ID card. All it had was our names on the front with a number and nothing else.
“This is your scan pass, this will unlock your unit within the building and nothing else right now. You have thirty minutes to take a shower, change into your uniform, and then chow time.” They kept repeating, handing out the cards.
My room number was 210. The dormitory for our unit was around 100 rooms, and each floor had room for about 40 occupants, 2 to a room. As I stumbled into my room on the second floor, I sat on the edge of my small cot, taking a quick breather. As I sat questioning every life decision I had ever made, the door made a click, and in stumbled Tom, drenched in sweat and smelling like a damn guerilla from the zoo.
As Tom saw I was his roommate, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was gonna be bunkin’ with someone else. So glad its you, James!”
I smiled up at him, focusing as much as I could from stopping myself from passing out from overexertion. “Yeah, same. How are you doing? You were running for… well, I guess its been about an hour.”
Tom walked to his cot, dropping his large knapsack on it with a thud, and picking up the pair of fatigues they left on his cot. “I’m feelin’ alright, bit winded but I’ll survive. This is… awfully small.” He said, frowning as he unfurled the top. It was obviously several sizes too small for the giant of a man.
“I’m sure you can exchange it,” I said, inspecting my own fatigues. They were the plain grey fatigues I saw worn by the other Air Force members we had seen to this point. They were neatly folded, along with a pair of pants, a package of undershirts, socks, and underwear. Luckily, mine seemed to be the proper size, but even though I was taller than Tom he was much wider.
Tom grunted, “Well, guess I’ll go n’ try and fix this, I’ll see you at dinner pal.” He picked up his fatigues, and waltzed out into the hallway.
As I inspected our room as quickly as I could, I realized there was no bathroom at all. Sighing I realized that there must be communal showers, probably to save on plumbing. The room was extremely minimalistic; it was basically a small space for two people to sleep, and nothing more. I shoved my suit case into the small closet, and ventured out myself, determined to wash the stink off me.
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After the quick shower, tossing on my new fatigues, and exploring a bit more of the dorm’s, I followed the flow of trainees toward the dining facility. It was nothing fancy; sterile white floors, sterile white everything. Aligned along the outer walls were a wide variety of food 3D printers.
During the early 2000’s, 3D printing became a massive boon to technological evolution. You could essentially make whatever you wanted out of a wide variety of plastics, resins, and rubbers. Sometime around the dawn of the 22nd century, scientists cracked the code on replicating and creating base proteins and amino acids in a form that could, essentially, be combined to “make food”.
While the food was nutritious, and would meet the basic needs to sustain life, it left a lot to be desired when it came to taste. It essentially tasted like dirt. However, it did ensure that humanity essentially had essentially infinite food, and hunger was no longer an issue.
The AI powered fast food restaurants worked off a similar principle, however, whatever they did to the food made it far more palatable. It was obvious that the units used, at least here, were… antiquated. But, food was food, and my stomach was growling at me. I grabbed a plate and got some “goulash” and grabbed a nutrition bar, just in case. As expected the goulash, which looked like a pile of mashed potatoes with some sort of gravy and meat, tasted like liquified mush with way too much salt. As I started to nibble at my nutrition bar, an oat based bar that was used to increase fiber intake as well as vitamins that were missing from 3D printed meals, I noted that as the trainees finished the meals they immediately departed. And it was extremely silent, only the sound of chewing mouths, and the occasional cough. It was eerie as hell. Finishing my bar, I headed for the exit. I hadn’t seen Tom walk in, and he still wasn't here, so I figured he must have gotten lost or had an issue with swapping out his uniform.
As I exited the building, I spied a bunch of people from our bus lined up outside the door. There was Tom, standing in the line, and waving me over.
“Hey brother! Sorry I didn't wait for you, when I found out we had to be out here waiting for Staff Sergeant Mayberry by 8 o’ clock at night… uh… I guess we should speak in military now, right? What is that… twelves plus eight… 2000! I skipped the shower and got grub as fast as possible! Shit was a bit disgusting, nothing like the stuff we had in Massachusetts I tell ya.”
I paused, taking in what he just said.
“Well, I’m glad I stumbled blindly here then…” I muttered sarcastically, taking up a spot in the back of the line. I didn’t have any way to tell time, so how was I supposed to make it there in time? I just got lucky is all, I told myself. Maybe I missed a memo somewhere, but today had just been chaos so who knows.
We stood waiting, watching the trainees slowly exit, and finally Staff Sergeant Mayberry made an appearance. She was impossible to miss, as trainees actively avoided being in her way, even holding the doors for her as she stormed through the dining facility. As soon as she saw the line of us, the new 322nd Trainees, she bellowed, “You all have 10 minutes to get back to the dorm and meet me in the Auditorium on the 4th floor. You will run in a line, and be quick about it! Move, move, move!”
With that, we hauled ass back to the hab, maintaining as much of a single line as brand new recruits could.