Chapter 216
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: End of April (3)
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After Winter returned, there was a sudden increase in soldiers pretending to be patients or going insane.
“Those aren’t even men.”
Those were the words of Private Brady Harper. Winter gave him a light warning. Don’t take your eyes off the horse. The two of them were holding lunge lines, training the horses. Soldiers in the learning position, like the private, were leaning on the railing or sitting comfortably, watching.
Two horses tied to long lines traced a large circle. The person holding the line at the center would change the direction of their body and gaze, and the horses would practice walking, trotting, or stopping to match the speed.
“Wouldn’t you say not everyone requesting evacuation is a man?”
To Winter’s question, the private replied confidently.
“Women are fine, though, Sir.”
At that, one female soldier raised her middle finger. Fuck you! The emphasis was so perfect that the rest of the soldiers burst into giggles.
Regardless of appearances, they shared a fierce sense of camaraderie. Contempt for weak comrades. And to Winter’s eyes, it was a form of self-loathing as well. Why wouldn’t they want to run away too? To suppress that, they had no choice but to be aggressive.
The embedded press corps gathered to one side filmed the scene. Notebooks clacked loudly as if they had endless material. Upon closer look, some were deliberately striking the keys hard.
“By the way, what’s the point of this training?”
“It’s to make the horse focus on the person. There are other purposes too.”
Since the human controls the speed, the horse’s attention naturally fixes on the center of the circle. If it wavered, you had to correct it by pulling the line, giving a signal, shortening the radius, and so on. Conversely, good obedience earned a longer line, giving more room to move.
A horse accustomed to this would readily follow the rider’s will. If it were just about exercise, he would have told them to stand still with the line held overhead, regardless of the horse’s movement.
“Weaver! You’re up now. Give it a try.”
Winter handed the lunge handle to Sergeant Madeline Weaver. Not her first practice, she soon handled the line skillfully. Whenever the horse’s head turned elsewhere, she’d click her tongue—tut tut!—to regain attention. Not quite up to the mounted police with experience, but decent enough.
It was the leisure regained thanks to the ammunition. Of course, some were still far from calm.
“You’ve never had a credit card, have you?”
This was a question Captain Langford had asked Winter right after distributing ammo to the soldiers.
“No, sir.”
“Try not to get one in the future. It’ll feel like this every month. Even when that eagerly awaited paycheck comes in, it’s gone in no time.”
He gestured to the ammo crates and magazines that had emptied in a flash. Seeming more delicate and worrisome than he looked, he wouldn’t relax until resupply arrived. At least he had enough leisure to crack a lame joke—small mercies.
No word yet on follow-up supply planes. Considering the young war hero’s usefulness, it was a bit odd. As the rescue squad veteran had boasted, the White House must be in chaos. Recalling, he’d also said inbound airspace to this sector was restricted for some reason.
‘It’s not just to focus support on areas with many stragglers.’
Even so, one or two planes should have crossed the line by now. Survivors had already pushed this far inland. So, another reason made sense.
No contrails from sea to land during that time bore noting too. Even if maintaining the maritime blockade was crucial, with millions of lives at stake, air support seemed warranted.
Perhaps the carrier group had taken heavy losses clashing with the old Chinese navy? Or the situation was ongoing. The latter weighed heavier, tied to prior suspicions.
Lost in such thoughts while watching training, someone called Winter.
“Lieutenant. Got a moment?”
The cautious, polite approach came from embedded reporter Gilbert Martino—one of the hardest to wrangle. Since regaining his senses, he’d shown near-worshipful deference.
“Something with me? Shall we step aside?”
“No. Here’s fine.”
Even saying that, he hesitated, so Winter excused them from nearby soldiers. Those fond of their young lieutenant grumbled but moved away. Martino sighed.
“Go on, then.”
Urged by Winter. But his lips stayed sealed. He mumbled several times, swallowing each. The typing had stopped. Reporters watched. What could it be? Since he was just overseeing training anyway, Winter waited patiently. How much time passed? Martino wiped his brow and finally spoke the tough words.
“We—we want to do some reporting.”
Winter’s head tilted instinctively.
“If it’s more than what you’re doing now, you mean joining us on operations.”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t the company commander already say no?”
“...That’s why I’m asking you. You’re the real one in charge, Lieutenant.”
“No, I’m not. And ignoring chain of command like this is a problem.”
No telling when an accident might happen, so he couldn’t look away from training. He thought a cold tone would suffice. But the reporter pressed on, resolute.
“It’s not just chasing scoops. We’re not assuming it’s safe. We know we’d just be in the way. But we crossed the blockade with a sense of mission. We left notarized wills before deploying. So...”
A sigh-punctuated pause.
“If things go south, abandon us—no hard feelings.”
“...”
Winter paused the lunging.
Then he moved with Gilbert to where the rest of the press waited. Tense gazes fixed on him. Their unity was clear. Meeting each pair of eyes, Winter cut straight.
“Folks, do you feel a lot of side-eye here?”
A few flinched instantly.
“I didn’t mean it that way...”
Gilbert Martino, quick to deny, trailed off glancing at colleagues—or rivals. One cameraman, one reporter couldn’t hold back. Despite the grueling escape, the plump black man who hadn’t fully slimmed down shed hot tears. The reporter’s low sobs joined.
Soldiers and officers were kindly to the boy officer without exception, but Winter was special. Not all were naturally so. Surely some saw civilians as burdens, glaring. Not out of malice, but weakness. They were exhausted too. To the press, aware of the company’s dire straits, that “some” loomed large.
Helen Thamyris, the gaunt reporter, poured out her grievances honestly.
“The looks they give us are so cold. Sometimes they curse loud enough in the halls on purpose. I know soldiers have it hard. I get that, but we’re not the only reason we’re stuck here. There are plenty who can’t fight besides us... This is so unfair.”
Winter listened silently for a good while.
They’d gotten urgent ammo, with resupply expected soon. Amid improving conditions, death-defying resolve seemed unlikely genuine.
‘They just want some consideration.’
Winter didn’t see weakness as sin. He was weak himself. How grueling were his days clinging on for Autumn, the passed season? Why else ignore most audience comments from another world, sans courtesy?
After ample tales flowed with empathy, Winter spoke.
“You all know the Harris captain incident, right?”
Reporters focused. Martino nodded vigorously.
“As reporters, how could we not? You got the Distinguished Service Cross and Silver Star for it. Honestly, the Medal of Honor wouldn’t have been amiss... but I understand the circumstances.”
“The DoD upload of that day’s battle log and the miracle baby’s birth hit 30 million views in one day, I heard. If you weren’t military, Lieutenant, you’d be filthy rich. Though millionaires mean nothing if the world ends.”
Trevor Baptist, one reporter, chimed. “Miracle baby” was the term for the infant born in the engineer office by Santa Margarita River. America’s youngest celeb now. The parents reminisced on various channels. Medic White even had a statue somewhere.
Winter said,
“That night, someone apologized to me, called his girlfriend’s name, and killed himself.”
The name he called was Emily.
“Grenade under the APC didn’t finish him, so I had to ease his pain.”
They’d seen it indirectly. Helmet cams were rolling.
“I’m not letting Baker company men end up that pathetic.”
“Isn’t it very different?”
They saw his consolation as excessive hyperbole. Winter shook his head lightly at Martino and the others, reluctant to agree.
“It’ll end up similar. Look—this company isn’t standard TOE. Coast Guard and 116th Artillery had the same garrison at least, but since Sergeant Osborn joined, not anymore. It’ll worsen. Troops from dozens of units, different paths, somehow maintaining unity.”
“Unity...”
“Yeah. Sure, up to officers, but duty to protect visible civilians right now? That’d help enough.”
“...”
“Even with many liking and relying on me, it’s shaky. Friction somewhere, trouble brewing. Ditch civilians now? Absurd. If soldiers, officers go through that? Well, only the conscienceless survive, and the company holds great.”
The company wouldn’t fully disintegrate, but preventable deaths? Plenty possible. Losing soldierly purpose made Harris a cautionary tale.
Winter saw it as disappointment-born. I’m only this much of a person. Once lowered, it eases next time. Easier, lower; lower, easier. Eventually, not human anymore. Plenty like that outside.
“Don’t think of yourselves as burdens—that’s the point. Reporting on soldiers alone should boost pride. Whoever cursed, most won’t.”
After silence, cameraman Jordan Crook gave a wry smile.
“Unrealistic, really.”
A beat.
“You, Lieutenant. I figured most coverage of you was staged.”
The gray-haired black man shook his head.
“Even after an editing buddy vouched raw footage. Occupational hazard... It was just too fantastical.”
“I get it. Some gawked like, ‘You’re real?’”
Winter brushed it off lightly; stiff smiles spread. Another reporter jumped in.
“I know. Callsign Meerkat, 79th’s Edmond Durant, right Lieutenant?”
“How...”
“Fan from way back. Ops mostly, but your info’s shockingly detailed out there. Not everyone memorizes trivia like me. Heh, unlike some, I never doubted you were real.”
Reminded Winter oddly of comics where the winter boy roared. Worlds with functioning govs differed thus.
“Anyway, I’ll talk to the captain separately. For you all and mobility-impaired privates too. I’ll ensure no backlash.”
Winter soothed with gentle promise.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Alien Covenant
Went to see the new Alien series flick on opening day.
Had high hopes, but it was disappointing.
Of course, the aesthetic visuals stay true to Alien. A feast for the eyes.
In conclusion, plenty lacking, but worth watching.
#Q&A
Q. Hyeon Bi-hwa-nim: @Looked to buy ebooks, but managing multiple apps is tough, so I stick to one. Any ETA on updates besides Book Cube? Other sites only have free/prologue and vol 1. If exclusive, when does exclusivity end?
A. Not sure about Book Cube, but Ridibooks dropped 6 vols yesterday. Not exclusive... Naver pushed for early exclusive, but no others AFAIK. Gotta ask why platforms only have vol 1.