Page 26 of Beyond The Maples
"Hi everyone, if you could line up, I'll call you over and we'll set up your files. Please have your signing paperwork handy. I'll be giving you your assigned bunk cards and ID tags. Don't lose those. The chef in the cafeteria will look for any excuse not to have to feed you."
I smile a little at this. Maybe being a chef inherently makes you ornery. Wesley scoots over to the metal desk in the corner with the stacks of files and begins calling people over. Once again, I'm thrown off by the cleanliness of the facility. By the simple functionality of everything. Every window is unbroken. Lanterns with dual function bulbs and torches line the walls.
They must still have access to reserve electricity. It has to take a small army to keep this place clean, this entire city looking the way it does. Leo appears beside me, letting out a soft whistle of approval.
"Fancy place, have you ever seen anything like this?" he asks, his hands sliding into his pockets casually. I can tell he's nervous by the way his eyes dart around the room. Leo isn't a big guy, not much taller than me, and hasn't come into his body yet. I wonder if he knows he's a prime target for becoming a punching bag, or maybe his blind optimism and charm will keep him safe.
"No, I've never been anywhere that looked close to this. It's a little overwhelming," I admit, looking around.
"Totally… and a little... weird." He shrugs at me as he glances at the others lined up beside us.
I sense he wants to say more, but he isn't sure who's listening, so he just gives me a knowing look. A little weird, a little overwhelming, and a little unfair is likely what we're both thinking.
I'm called over, and the tense cadet Wesley asks questions. This seems like a more in-depth version of my original enlisting paperwork.
"You'll need to write down your parent's professions, dates of births and or deaths."
I pause,"Why do you need that?"
I don't mean to sound defensive, but it's strange. I'm an adult, my parents shouldn't affect my standing. Right?
"Because we need to know where our cadets came from, and if there should be concerns, like affiliations out in the field that may compromise missions." He states this bluntly, like it's obvious.
I worry about what they'll find if they dig around my parents' pasts, but it's too late.
"Also, add any dependants and all their information to ensure they're taken care of in your absence. Any medical concerns need to go in this file."
I nod,moving to the side so he can start on another cadet and fill everything out. He hands me numbered tags and a card that says BETA 403. I assume this is my dorm and room number. I thank him and head to the back of the line.
After everyone is finished, Wesley tells us to gather our things and he'll give a brief tour before leaving us at our dorms. As he walks, he talks, answering questions and pointing out various functions of the facility. The place is huge. It's connected by long halls, and they seem to veer indoors and outdoors depending on the space. It's cold and bright––almost clinical.
It feels odd after a lifetime of living in a dusty haze. There are classrooms lining either side of the halls on the main stretch. Wesley explains each recruit will be required to do some general knowledge courses. I wonder briefly why this is necessary; they won't be quizzing us on history while we’re fighting.
We pass the cafeteria, which has metal slabs for tables and sleek grey floors. I'm hit by just how massive this place is. I wonder if I'll get lost.
We pass larger rooms lining never-ending slim halls, Wesley explains they are training facilities. Some have weapons and medical equipment, and what appear to be tech materials inside. He reiterates most of us will be officers or soldiers. Officers being those who maintain peace within our own ranks, and soldiers who handle outside conflict, mainly at our borders.
We stop abruptly at a large training center.
"In an initiative to use as little material as possible, while still being effective, each cadet will train extensively in hand-to-hand combat. You are expected to pass physical tests before moving on." Wesley's voice echoes as we stand in the large space.
This section of the facility must be original, and they've kept adding to it over the years. It's made of different materials than most of the other rooms. It's an octagon, its walls slightly curved outwards as it goes up, creating a dome. Clearly made by a water wielder manipulating concrete. That kind of power was rare, taking a lot of skill and strength. There were only a few smaller such structures left in Strayton. I wonder what the old cities would've looked like. The royal Capital, I think, is where Zaphira is now, probably in ruins from the war. I rememberhearing something about The Centre originally being a science facility that just grew and grew over the years. My dad always said there's history hidden in the architecture of New Providence. This must be what he'd meant.
My attention is drawn to the high dome ceiling made almost entirely of glass. Or is that... plastic? It's odd looking, filmed with something that shimmers, so the entire space spills with a stream of dusty sunlight.
There's over a dozen rings around the room, all as large as the boxing rings I've seen in the pits at the Games. They all seem to have their own stations off to the side, with benches and lockers. Right at the center of the room is a large pillar, gently mimicking the octagonal shape of the room, but much smoother at its edges. At first glance it almost appears as if it's holding up the ceiling, but it seems to have another purpose. It's a lighter grey plastic, and it somehow looks out of place.
"What is that?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
"That torture device has many names. Survive climbing up there and back, and it gives you a leadership role and allows you certain privileges other cadets don't get. But don't get your hopes up. Very few cadets achieve it, and most just incapacitate or simply kill themselves trying. There are strict rules about how you get up there." He shakes his head like he's shaking away a bad memory.
I wonder briefly if he ever got up, but by the haunted look in his eyes, I doubt it. My brows pull together as my eyes narrow, conveying my interest. He clears his throat.
"The founding Council members built it when New Providence was created. It represents the first warriors of this land, long before wielding and technology took hold here. It's said they were a people of nature, specifically entwined with the ancient forests. The warriors would climb trees upwards of thirty to forty feet in the air to scout the land, and protect their people. It was a testament to a good and worthy soldier. When New Providence was formed, they wanted to use it as a symbol of strength. A homage to what this great continent once was. That was the thought, anyway." He mumbles the last sentence more to himself than to our group, staring at the great looming pole with bitterness in his voice.
I have more questions, but I decide to put everyone out of their misery and continue the walk. All of us are likely eager to get settled.
We've been walking for over an hour before Wesley finally stops in a courtyard. Several of the hallways seem to end abruptly, leaving us in an open space connected by sunken sidewalks. There are two tall slim buildings across from each other and an open area to the right. A few picnic tables surround the space but it's open and empty other than the entrances to the hallways.
