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during your copious spare time.”
     
    He smirked.  Somehow, Yolanda was sure they would have very little spare time.
     
    “Go get a rest,” he said.  “You will be woken in” – he made a show of checking his watch – “seven hours.  And then the real fun starts.”

Chapter Four

    Speaking in the Senate today, Senator Karen Pettigrew demanded that the United States Government impose new tariffs on anyone wishing to abandon the United States for the Solar Union.  The interests of social justice, Pettigrew claimed, were best served by forbidding the transfer of material possessions – and cash – from the United States.
    -Solar News Network, Year 51
     
    “I didn't know it was possible to hurt so much,” Dennis Crawford muttered.
     
    “Me neither,” Martin said, as they stumbled out of the shower.  Whatever concerns he’d had about sharing showers with other men had vanished, faced with the implacable truth that their trainers expected them to adapt – and act like adults.  “That was not a pleasant experience.”
     
    He’d watched war movies, downloading them from the datanet after they’d been banned in the United States, but none of them had ever managed to make him feel what new recruits went through.  There were the endless exercises, the endless lectures from the sergeants, the complete lack of sleep, the monotonous food ... and the demerit system, which had to have been invented by a mad genius who’d also been a complete sadist.  One week of basic training and he'd already earned four demerits.  Working them off had been a pain.
     
    “I don’t think it’s meant to be,” Crawford said.  “They say it only gets worse after we pass the first set of tests.”
     
    “I know,” Martin said.  He’d thought he could handle it, but if he was having problems with Basic Training, maybe he shouldn't be thinking about trying to become a cybersoldier.  Or any sort of soldier.  All the movies he’d watched had told lies.  “What do you think is going to happen tonight?”
     
    “Fucked if I know,” Crawford said.  “But we’d better get a move on.”
     
    Martin nodded, then stepped through the forcefield.  Water droplets flew off his skin, leaving him completely dry.  He reached for his uniform and pulled it on, glancing down at the bare sleeves.  The sergeants had told the company that, when they passed the first set of tests, they would have something to put on their uniforms.  But there would always be another set of hurdles to clear ...
     
    As soon as they were dressed, they walked down into the mess and picked up plates of food, which they carried to the nearest table.  Most of the other recruits seemed to be elsewhere – either writing letters or catching up on sleep, as they had no demerits to work off.  Martin looked around in hopes of seeing Yolanda, but saw no sign of her.  She seemed to be coping as well as could be expected, although she looked thinner every day.  He hoped she wouldn't quit, even though others had already thrown in the towel and abandoned Sparta.  There was something about her he found attractive.
     
    And keep it in your pants , he warned himself, sternly.  Sergeant Bass hadn't been joking when he’d warned them of the dangers of fraternisation.  One pair of recruits, caught having sex in one of the bathrooms, had been ordered to spend the rest of the week naked, just to ensure they got the message.  You don’t need more demerits .
     
    He pushed the thought aside as he tucked into the food.  There was no way to know what it actually was – it looked like a mixture of porridge and hard biscuits – but it tasted good and there was no shortage of it.  The sergeants had told them to eat as much as they could, every day, even though some of the girls had whined about making themselves fat.  But it didn't seem a possibility, not when they were forced to exercise every day.  And then there were the tests that measured his education,