Page 33 of Beyond The Maples
"The goal is to get to the top and sound the alarm, but it's almost impossible to climb, especially for a girl."
I jump to argue, and Berkley raises his hand to silence me.
"I'm not saying girls are inferior. I have a little girl, and they are equal or greater in every way. I'm only saying thattypicallythe amount of upper body strength needed to get to the top favors men."
I look at him indignantly, eyebrow cocked, willing him to explain further. He points to the pile near the bottom. Sharp metal circular disks, with what appear to be a handhold, in the center. There's fine material wrapped up over the handholds creating some padding and then the silky, stretchy material comes out of the handholds to create a short tether between the two. I squint at the pieces, trying to figure out how one might use them.
"The material of the tower is a rubber polymer of sorts. It's hard, but pliable if you have a sharp object and enough force. You're only allowed to use thosematerials you see to get to the top, and you must get the disks up and down. The handholds are big and the disks are heavy. You use them to shimmy up the post, locking one in at a time." He sucks in a whistle through his lips while his finger wags a swooping motion up the pole from top to bottom. "It takes an incredible amount of strength and endurance, not only to jam the disks in thoroughly, but to hold up your weight at the same time."
I now realize what he meant by his earlier comment.
"That seems ridiculous, don't you think? This challenge catering to people with a certain body type?"
I'm annoyed now at the thought of the men being given a leg up, getting better, safer positions within the ranks, and their teams better assignments, all because of their beefy arms.
"And if you fall?"
"If you fall from high enough, you're fucked." He shrugs.
"How do you know all this?" I ask curiously.
"This isn't my first employ. I did one when I was about your age, survived, and vowed never to come back. But my town is..." He hesitates, a glassy look in his eyes, "There was no other option for me. So here I am, again."
My heart pinches at his confession, and I nod at him sympathetically. I understand that resolution more than he probably knows.
I hear a thud behind us, followed by dramatic wheezing, and I turn to see Farra bent over Leo with her hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry! I usually have to work so much harder to throw someone."
She's not worried, I realize, she's trying not to laugh in his face.
"Yup, fine, I'm fine. Leave me here, you muscular lunatic!" Leo croaks out through wheezes.
"Oh, come on, this is mostly your fault for goofing around so much. We'retraining," she counters, trying to pull him up.
"Training?! We haven't even started training yet. We were just supposed to be warming up. We haven't even met the Lieutenant and the training legion yet,you bloodthirsty beast." He swats her hand away dramatically, which makes me laugh.
The room's chatter dies suddenly dies down, while everyone stares at the door. I turn then and see exactly why the room has gone silent. Looming in front of the doors are several lethal looking people. At the front is a man, arms folded, scrutinizing all of us with a piercing black gaze.
He's in official uniform, and even if he wasn't, I would know he isn't a cadet in training. His entire body is molded with muscle that only comes from years of training. The arms peeking out of his fitted dark brown shirt are... distracting. His shirt looks painted on. His pants are the same ones issued to the other higher ups, the standard cream combat trousers. Somehow, they appear different on his menacing figure. I wait for him to say something, make a speech, anything, but he just stands there, scouring the group like he's picking us apart piece by piece. It's then that I notice he's not alone up there. His distracting presence clouding my common sense to take in all the newcomers.
His eyes finally find our group, and I somehow feel protective. I don't want this guy looking at my crew. His gaze lands on me, and the second they stop on my face; I feel my cheeks heat. My heart beats almost painfully in my chest. I don't break his eye contact, even though I desperately want to. Showing weakness isn't an option. I tilt my chin up defiantly, even though my stomach flips. Is this how long he looked at everyone else and I'm just losing my mind? It feels too long.
Luckily, he takes pity on me, looking at the rest of my group, before the beautiful, scowling woman to his left clears her throat.
"Stop scaring them and address them already, will you? I'm bored," she practically purrs from beside him. He bobs his head. I wonder what kind of iron stomach this woman has to address him like that.
"I'm Lieutenant Tane Valo. I'll be your commanding officer, and oversee your training until I deem you worthy of moving on. Beside me are my legionaries. They are the best of the best. They have been with me since I was a cadet like yourselves, and will also be presiding over your training. They are not your friends or babysitters, and you would all be wise not to piss them off. We're invested inyour success here, and we have a few different ways of preparing you for what's to come outside these walls, so I ask you to trust the process. Don't give us any grief, or we'll make you think Captain Kethler is a warm teddy bear," his velvety voice booms over the still silent crowd. He turns to the group beside him and starts talking. Wes is there with his clipboard, seeming to fill him in.
Farra comes up beside me and says under her breath, "Fuck, I thought he'd moved on."
My eyebrows pull together, confused.
"You know him?" I ask. Farra shakes her head.
"No, but I've heard stories. My brother's intake was a year after his, and he quickly got a reputation. He's ruthless. And dangerous; apparently he moved up the ranks so quickly because he's not afraid to do the Council's dirty work."
I shudder. I can only imagine what that work might be. The executions, running down defectors; I've heard countless stories. I watch the legionaries spread out throughout the training groups, talking them through lessons for the day.
