06:00

BING-BONG!

The 06:00 bell sounded throughout the halls and dormitories of the Academy. In the C-Wing dormitory ten warm mounds stirred beneath the grey blankets. A now familiar voice sounded from the end of the dormitory.

The second day had begun. Legs, feet, and paws swung out to meet the cool tiled floor.

06:04

Now mostly awake, and with their collective consciousness at least at periscope depth, the cadets of C-Wing made their way to the ablutions, for a quick toilet stop and splash of cold water on their faces.

06:12

Uniforms and boots. Then, the bedrolls. The teal green blankets on the mattresses were smoothed out wrinkle-free and all the corners mitred — at exactly 45 degrees — mostly. Next came the grey blankets and sheets, folded and alternately layered, the last blanket wrapping right around the layered stack to form a tight block. Lastly, the pillow, the final capstone of the entire construction, was placed on top, the open end facing away from the door.

06:27

One final frantic check around the room, ensuring everything was in its place and as it should be. They could only hope.

06:30

The cadets of C-Wing swiftly came to attention, standing at the end and to the right of their beds, with their eyes front.

Flight Sergeant Wilhelm “Hammer” Krieger marched crisply into the dormitory and stopped directly next to Raven in bed C-01.

Raven straightened himself ever so slightly, ensuring his eyes stayed directly ahead.

Krieger nodded imperceptibly.

He then made his way down the dormitory, stopping briefly at each bed to appraise both the bedroll and the cadet’s uniform. When he got to Seb, he paused just a little longer.

Seb raised his collar zipper by two teeth and then started his push-ups. Krieger continued down the first side finding one or two more minor issues with uniforms or finding a wayward wrinkle or incorrect mitre on the teal blanket. More push-ups. Coming to the end of the left-side row, he turned and started back up the right side of the dormitory. He was in no hurry and paused with proper intent, appraising both cadet and bed.

He then came to bed VALE C-08. Again, Krieger paused, appraising both cadet and bed. The bed was immaculate. The corners of the teal blanket were perfectly mitred. There was not one wrinkle to be seen. The bedroll was tight and straight, the strata of the inner blankets and sheets perfectly straight. Except — one thing about the bedroll was most certainly — not regulation.

Lewis shifted his weight very slightly, and wiggled his toes in his boots. Keeping his eyes dead straight ahead, he answered quietly but clearly.

Krieger paused ever so slightly before speaking again. His eyes flicked back to Dogger on the pillow. He knew exactly who these Human boys were — he’d read their files, and had been personally briefed by Huxley.

06:37

Finally, Krieger came to the last two bed spaces, JÄGER C-09 and HALL C-10.

Timo was standing stiffly at attention, his whiskers trembling nervously.

Timo forced himself to relax his shoulders, but his legs still felt like loaded springs, primed to recoil at a moment’s notice.

06:43

Toby’s general outlook on life, whether it was his school tie or making a bedroll, was that a suggestion of compliance should be sufficient. Generally, he was used to never being caught for anything, and had assumed he never would be. Not today. With one fluid movement, Krieger disembowelled the offending bedroll, trailing its contents down the bed.

Toby began to frantically remake his bedroll, feeling the pressure of not only making it to Krieger’s standards, but also of cutting into his wing’s breakfast time.

06:46

06:50

Finally, after three attempts, Toby was able to produce a bedroll that was up to Krieger’s standard.

06:52

The cadets of C-Wing were soon marching down the corridor to the mess hall, more than ready to eat a slightly hurried breakfast.

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Breakfast

Between hurried forkfuls of scrambled egg, the cadets were dissecting their first inspection.

Raven looked directly at Toby and grinned.

Toby just grinned back sheepishly and passed Raven the serviette without comment.

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Following breakfast came daily duties. Each wing was allocated the same duty for a week. Kitchen dishwasher duty, toilets and showers ablution block duty, and grounds: especially important this time of year keeping all the paths outside the main entrance swept clear of leaves. The allocated duty would rotate each week between the three cadet wings. C-Wing drew ablutions for their first week, and they soon learned the most efficient ways to get it all done — toilets, sinks, and showers — all inside the allocated thirty minutes.

---

Gymnasium

The cadets were all assembled in the gymnasium for their first fitness test dressed in just their fatigue pants, boots and regulation grey T-shirt. Krieger explained that before the end of the twelve-week basic training phase, they would all need to pass a required fitness level test to progress to flight training.

• Run 2.4 km in 10:16 for a standard pass or 9:47 for a first-class pass
• Complete 28 push-ups (standard) or 30 (first-class)
• Rope climb, up touch top and back down in 30 seconds or 25 seconds (first-class)

For the second time today, Lewis felt genuinely anxious. He was used to achieving top marks academically — but here, in the gymnasium, he knew his intellect alone wouldn’t get him to the top of the rope. He was acutely aware that his slightly skinny fifteen-year-old arms and legs would need to do the lion’s share of the work. Yet, he was determined to do his best.

Krieger first demonstrated the correct technique himself.

He climbed the last three metres of the five metre rope, and touched the top in the time he took to say it, dropping back down just as fast. He turned and looked directly at Toby.

Toby’s sturdy frame and the raw muscular power from his hindquarters were evident from the moment his boots left the mat. He wrapped the rope around one foot, locking it with the other, exactly as Krieger had shown — he made one clean pull-up, with no wasted motion — and from there he didn’t so much climb the rope as launch himself up it, each reach and foot lock coming in single explosive bursts. He touched the top of the rope before Krieger had fully turned to watch the clock, and dropped back down just as fast, landing light on his feet, ears up, and his tail giving one satisfied flick.

And so it went, each cadet attempting the rope climb, some more successfully than others. The closer it got to Lewis’ turn, the more his legs started to feel like jelly.

This was it. Lewis, determined to do his best, pushed his glasses up his nose and approached the rope. His hands felt sweaty and he subconsciously wiped them on his pants. He gripped the rope, pulling himself up enough so that he could lock the rope properly with his boots. He pushed up with his legs, but on his first attempt, his boots slipped to the mat below. He tried again, this time he managed to push himself up, his hands now at the level of his chest. Not daring to loosen his grip too much, he moved one hand up higher, and then tried to bring the other up. He slipped again, falling back to the mats below. Lewis sat for a moment with his arms wrapped around his knees.

A hand stretched out to pull him up. It belonged to Scott.

Lewis sniffed.

---

The next few weeks slipped by much faster than the cadets realised. While the predictable routines and the daily grind of inspections, drill, and completing multiple sets of tasks within arbitrary 30-minute windows continued exactly the same, something almost imperceptible was happening. With every set of push-ups meted out by Krieger’s unrelenting discipline, every step marched, every bedroll made — all of it accomplished something. Their overall fitness and stamina grew, and their attention to even the smallest details became highly attuned.

For Lewis this held true, especially with his level of physical fitness. He conquered the run in the required time, and push-ups — as it was for all the cadets by now — had become almost second nature. However, one nemesis remained.

The rope.

He had now mastered the foot lock and arm pull technique, but by week six, one thing still hadn’t changed.

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Week Six — Weekend Pass

Friday, 16:00

A long-anticipated highlight for every one of Blue Flight’s thirty cadets was the first weekend pass after six weeks of relentless training, discipline, and drill. Liberty to come and go as they pleased, provided they were back within the grounds each night by curfew at 22:00. From 16:00 Friday, until 16:00 on Sunday, there would be no drill, no uniforms, no inspections, and no one shouting at them. It was a welcome opportunity to get out of their green skins for a while. Theden, and all it had to offer, was theirs — however they chose to spend it.

Lewis and Scott knew exactly where they wanted to go, the Theden observatory. For Seb, Raven, Timo, Hans and Toby their sights were somewhat higher — Theden Airport, specifically the Theden Soaring Centre and a chance to get in a glider again, a complete escape from the terrestrial demands of Academy basic training.

Krieger was at the door checking them out. The cadets were all out of their uniforms, but Krieger — a hunde who quietly preferred to keep his boots firmly on the ground — immediately noticed one thing: a stream of blue flight jackets.

Krieger stiffened and snuffled slightly.

Once they were well out of earshot Timo nudged Seb—

Timo gave a low whistle as the irony settled on him.

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Week Eleven — Gymnasium

It was the penultimate week of the twelve-week basic training phase. The cadets, each in their own way, had all now found their natural rhythms and made the transformation fully from raw civilian to competent cadet. Almost. The final required fitness test was underway: first the run, then after a short rest, the push-ups, and finally, the rope climb.

Lewis. One rope. One top. One touch.

Over the last few weeks, he had been practicing with Scott, with any spare chance they had. He’d managed to get to the top once or twice, but he was still taking much longer than the 30 seconds allowed. All the push-ups over the last few weeks had certainly helped to increase his upper body strength, but the true power to complete the climb came from his legs, now honed from weeks of marching.

It was Lewis’ turn to do the rope climb next. Flight Sergeant Krieger stood at the bottom of the rope with his stopwatch and tablet to record the times.

This was it. Wiping his hands on his pants one last time, he stepped up to the rope ready to climb.

Lewis gripped the rope firmly, and made the first pull up to enable him to wrap the rope around his boot and lock it with the other. He then let his legs do their work, pushing his body up the rope.

The rest of the cadets joined in, yelling their support, encouraging and willing him on, the collective noise in the gymnasium swelling to a crescendo with every pull, and every thrust of his legs.

Lewis closed his eyes with concentrated determination.

Thrust, slide, lock. Thrust, slide, lock.

No time for hesitation, just the rhythm, over and over, each repetition carrying him higher.

Then — the touch of metal at the top. Descent and his boots touching the mat.

The gymnasium fell completely silent, waiting for Krieger to announce the time, the only sound was Lewis’ laboured breathing as he bent over double, hands on his knees.

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Week Twelve — 16:00 Friday

The thirty cadets of Blue Flight turned to the right and fell out of the final parade of their basic training, cheering as they did so.

The specialist orbital training phase, for both pilots and analysts, would commence Monday.

For now, once again, Theden was theirs.

Late summer — Year 6

As the last weeks of summer drew to a close, thoughts at Headwall turned to both the new school year ahead for those of the younger boys staying at Headwall and also to those who would shortly leave. Some would be going to Theden University, and Seb and Raven would also be heading to Theden, to take their places at the Hundeerde Space Defence and Communications Network Academy as cadets.

Patrick and George were in the living room poring over their elective choices for their last year at high school.

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Summer — Year Six

The Graufels massif, the highest mountain on Hundeerde, rose sheer and vast from the floor of Graufelstal Valley, its peak and side ridges trailing off into a jagged chain of lesser alpine peaks that made them seem like foothills in comparison. The boys had seen Graufels before from the air, which only became visible after crossing the headwall saddle.

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Autumn Year 3

During breakfast on Seb’s sixteenth birthday Grandma Bella slipped a small wrapped package next to Seb’s plate of scrambled eggs. It contained a full set of graphite sketching pencils. Seb was pleased, as his 6B in particular had become almost a stump.

Grandma Bella looked at Seb kindly and smiled.

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