Welcome to the Marines (Corporate Marines Book 2) Read online

  She smiles at us. “I know that you have been told that before, but I need to stress the severity of breaking the rules as there are no second chances. I know that some of you will have some questions before we arrive. Feel free to ask me privately or in public like this. I prefer talking out loud like this so that everyone gets the answers to questions that they might not have thought of yet. But I will respect your need for privacy if you wish. For your info, this is a modified highway cruiser. There is a washroom at the back, as you are all aware. To the side you will see a cabinet that is full of snack foods and drinks; please feel free to help yourselves if you are hungry. For those of you wanting to view or listen to music, the chair ahead of you is a net device that will receive signals. Headphones are in the side pouch. If you have implants, you will not be able to connect direct again as a security feature. Do you have any questions for me?”

  She is smiling like she has been through this a dozen times and we would not know what to ask or think but we could ask anything.

  A guy with freckles and black hair calls out, “When do we start our training?”

  She nods. “Here are some ground rules. You can ask anything you want. You will put your hand up so that I am not inundated and I can deal with questions in order. If I cannot answer something or am not supposed to, I will tell you. I do not know when your training starts. Likely after you arrive at the facility.”

  There are some giggles and a laugh or two from the others.

  A blonde with blue eyes, really well built, that I had noticed at the airport and on the plane put her hand up.

  The woman nodded at her to go on. “Miss, do you know when we can contact our friends back home?”

  The woman looks a little sad. “I am sorry to say that I do not. What were you told when you signed up and were picked up?”

  The blonde takes her hand down. “I wasn’t really told anything about that and when I asked they told me to ask later.”

  The woman nods. “After you are settled in, ask whoever your supervisor or trainer is when and what sort of messages you can get out to your families. The Corporation will inform them regularly that you are okay and how you are progressing with training as an employee of the Corporation. They have always been good with that.”

  There don’t appear to be any more questions at this point, so after a few seconds the woman sits down. People start using their entertainment devices; a few go back to grab something to snack on as some people had not grabbed anything from the lounge. I grab an orange as I had not received any good fruits while in jail and during the trial. All that food had been tasteless glop.

  After I eat my orange I hit the washroom, which is surprisingly clean, and then just sit in my chair. I don’t think I will sleep as I feel so wired, but I am just worn out and pass out immediately.

  I wake up when everyone around me starts talking as we pull over a hill. There is the training facility ahead of us.

  THE FACILITY

  It doesn’t really seem like a training facility. I expected big school buildings and gyms and barracks-type sleeping accommodation, kind of like any institutional school. I was completely wrong.

  It’s a huge compound and I can see it is surrounded by several fences. Of course, as an experimental research and training facility I should have expected lots of security.

  In fact, as we start driving along a road that parallels the fence, I get a bit of an idea on how big the whole site may be. We only drive along the fence for maybe a kilometre but there is no end in sight. I can see a lot of open space and a tiny fence in the distance.

  There are plenty of signs on the fence that we are close to that say “no trespassing.” We drive along for a bit and then slow down. We pull up to a gate in the fence. There are two large buildings on either side of the gate and I can see lots of people here and a small parking lot to the side.

  The gate guard climbs onto the bus and talks to the person in charge of us, then just waves us through. We drive again for a while, parallel to the fence, until we come to a turn and then drive up to the next fence. It is a much higher fence with more warning signs on it, including pictures of lightning bolts and signs that say the area beyond is mined. The top has rolls of nasty-looking wire that glints in the sun.

  When we pull up to this gate, there are two more buildings with some outliers. They are all ugly concrete and look like they are meant to keep an army out. In this parking lot are armoured vehicles and I can see a helicopter landing pad to the side.

  There are more guards here and they get on the bus and check everything out, including the bus itself. Each one of us is scanned with some sort of hand device and everyone is cleared.

  It takes us awhile but after half an hour there we are waved through and keep driving to the third and final fenced area. This one is the strange one for me. That fence is something like a hundred feet from an inner concrete wall and the road we are on goes down a narrow path to a concrete guard bunker.

  The hot blonde pops her hand up again just like she is in class. “Miss? Those signs say mines! Are there really mines out there?”

  Our guide had been busy answering individual questions for most of the trip up. She stands up and looks at the blonde. “Of course there are mines here. I did tell you that security was tight in this location. Before you ask the next question or show outrage that banned weapons are in use in a ‘civilized’ part of the world, let me point out to you, there are three fences keeping people out. If someone somehow wanders past all the security and stays on the road, then they are going to find that the only way in is through yet another security gate that is set up like a fortress. There are only three gates into the compound. If that not very smart person ignores the mine warning and climbs the eight-foot fence and starts walking? Well, there is such a thing as natural selection and they will simply remove themselves from the gene pool. If they somehow make it through the minefield? Security will treat them as a threat and shoot to wound when they come over the six-foot wall. Also, for your information, someone did try breaking into this facility almost ten years ago. They did not survive the attempt.”

  The bus slows at the final gate and comes to a stop. We are only halfway to the gate itself. We are stopped at a sizeable barrier and then the bus shuts down.

  Again our guide gets off the bus and meets a security team. This sweep is much faster, though, and after only a few minutes the barrier is lowered into the ground, the bus starts up and we roll forward into the facility through the last gate.

  None of the security has been mean or power-tripping. They were really professional and just asked our names, which they checked against some sort of list along with the hand scanner. I wonder what someone had done to get them upset, and why anyone would be that stupid.

  The bus pulls into a large parking spot and then stops. The door eases open and our trip is done.

  We unload off the bus and our guide stays behind with her security. She never says goodbye or waves or anything, just directs us to offload and then the door closes and the bus swings around and heads back and out the gate.

  All around us are shorter concrete buildings. They all look like bunkers, really. Mean and nasty. There is a track leading off into the distance on the inside of the fence.

  There are several smaller concrete buildings just inside the fence at great distances apart. I see a bunch of soldiers walking along, heading for three armoured vehicles that are sitting in the parking lot idling. Those have big guns on them and I don’t think they are tanks as these have big tires instead. I watch the soldiers board the vehicles and then they slowly start driving along the inside of the fence line.

  I turn back to check out the rest of the people who had come on the bus. Everyone is young and I don’t recognize any of them. I have been walking in such a daze, and I need to stop doing that now. I start focussing on people and faces.

  There are about forty
of us now. One of the security personnel (I know she’s security because she is wearing body armour, carrying a rifle and has one of the high-tech helmets I saw on television shows and some movies when I went) directs us into one of the grey ugly buildings. She tells us to “follow the lights and read the signs and the doors.”

  So we go in the front door unescorted and all the halls are dark except for one. That short blonde takes the lead and starts walking down the hall. We all just follow. Personally, I’m wishing I was closer to the front so I could keep checking her out as she is one of the best-looking women here.

  But if she gets in trouble first, I’m okay with being in the centre. We all wander down the hall slowly. We pass lots of doors that are closed and when we try them, they are locked.

  We come to a bank of elevators fast enough and the entire room is well lit. When we walk in, the four sets of elevator doors facing us open together and after nervously glancing at one another, we split up and climb into them.

  The doors close and then we are descending, but not for very long. The doors open and when we step out, the rest of our group is stepping out as well into a foyer. While it is a large open area, it is hard to focus on really because all the walls that I can see are a gross pastel color. The type that is really popular right now because it calms and soothes, and violent and negative thoughts are supposed to decrease in the home and the workplace. I know that because my school had those colors everywhere. They started lots of food fights in the cafeteria and even some riots.

  Upstairs, it is tiled and there are some other hard floors. Down here the flooring is all institutional carpeting. Good stuff that looks great, but this place just screams government school.

  All the lighting is recessed and while bright, it is not harsh, which is weird. Everywhere I have ever been before has been like a pathetic copy of this place. This must have cost a lot of money, and whoever did this paid a lot of attention and was either paid a lot or cared about what they were doing. Given how the world is today, I am guessing that they were paid a lot.

  There are several halls leading off of the room, but again, only one is lit. So we start straggling down the hall, looking around as we go. We see signs for cafeterias, washrooms, classes, administration, and then we come to accommodations.

  In the accommodation hall there are lots of doors, and over each one, recessed, is a small light shining down on the door.

  One of the guys stops and stares at the door and then calls out, “Hey! There are names on the doors! This one says Tim Wong.”

  A dark-haired kid that looks Asian to me walks over to the door and opens it, looking inside. He steps inside and then steps back out so that he can talk to us. “It’s a small bedroom. Well, I’m bushed, so I’m going to bed. See you all in the morning!” He steps back in and closes the door.

  We all start looking and everyone quickly finds their rooms. It helped that as soon as someone stepped into the room and closed the door, the small recessed light went out.

  I find my door and go in. It’s a small room with a chair and a work desk. There is a small monitor and a remote control unit. This is the same sort of unit that you find in the nice schools that let the kids surf through at their own speed in classes. There is no washroom in here, but I remember that I passed one down the hall.

  I drop my bag on the bed and keep looking around at my small room.

  I also have a small closet. When I pop the door open, I find several sets of new clothing. There are five jumpsuits that are identical, as well as a pair of comfortable-looking shoes in the bottom. There is also a pair of flip-flops. I also have a windbreaker and generic baseball cap. A laundry bag is hanging from the end of the bed on a hook.

  Everything looks brand new.

  There are three drawers in a unit built into the wall. The bottom one contains underwear, including socks and T-shirts. The next one up has toiletries, including safety razors, a toothbrush, and all the rest that you would need on a long stay. The top drawer is empty except for an electronic reader and several chips. I pull that out and check it over. A current model, this has more power and features than anything I’ve ever had a chance to use before.

  When I turn it on, I find it’s password-locked so I can’t do anything with it.

  I put that back and walk over to the monitor unit.

  When I turn it on, there is a schematic on. “You are here” is prominently displayed above a red dot. It’s labelled and I can see a cafeteria as well as other facilities, most of which are not labelled, just given room numbers.

  At the bottom of the screen is a “PLAY” button. I have nothing else to do so I hit play. Some cheerful jingle comes up, which I recognize as the Corporation’s happy theme music and I grab a seat as the timer on the bottom of the screen tells me that I am going to be listening to and watching this for ten minutes.

  The jingle fades away and a scan of the facility I am in comes up and focuses on where I think I am. “Good day! The Corporation wants to welcome you to a quick introduction of this training facility before training starts tomorrow. You are currently located in an old military facility that the Corporation purchased from the Canadian military. Built shortly after the invasion, this site’s purpose was to be a hardened command and control facility used to control the central region’s military in the event of a follow-on invasion or domestic crisis. Able to house ten thousand soldiers along with all their equipment and keep them functioning for six months without outside intervention, this facility was state-of-the-art. It still is state-of-the-art, but it’s now used for sensitized research and experimentation. This is one of the main North American training facilities and is used for the majority of the initial training for Corporate Marines.”

  A stylised image of an armoured Marine flashes onto the screen. Next to it, for scale, is a normal-sized human. The armour is a bit bigger and looks like it stands around seven feet tall. Several different weapon systems flash onto the screen and all of them look truly nasty.

  The cheerful presentation continues while more pictures of the armour in action flash across the screen. “Training is incredibly difficult during this phase and the failure rate is expected to be well over 80 percent. Pre-testing standards have improved over the last few decades, so that number has actually dropped and the Corporation is always looking for ways to improve those numbers. Successful candidates tend to be intelligent and aggressive if they have made it to this point. There are several rules that you need to follow to successfully continue in training and for your own safety. You are allowed access to all common areas. Do not stray into restricted areas. There will be no warnings and the facility is constantly monitored. Your personal bio signs have been scanned and input into the system. It is not possible to fool or ‘spoof’ the system. Feel free to try; no one has ever succeeded. Of course, if you do try, you will be labelled as a traitor and dealt with. Next, outside communication. There is no outside communication unless it is through approved Corporate lines. Any attempt to hack or take control of a system for any purpose will be treated as Corporate espionage. Finally, for your own information, and a suggestion. Successful candidates that wish to become Marines need to understand one thing. Mental stability is very important. Forming close relationships of any sort is counter-productive and can actually destabilize candidates. This concludes Part 1 of your brief. Please pay attention for directions on how to use this monitor unit to pull your class schedule and use it as an aid for studying.”

  I watch the standard blurb for a couple of seconds and see that they are not giving me anything new, so I stop it. I know how to use these units and can work them faster than an introductory program could brief me.

  I look up the schedule and what directions are there for us. There are classroom numbers for the next morning at seven a.m. I knew the cafeteria hours.

  I am wondering about one thing: only a few of us had been on the bus. We all flew in as smaller g
roups and came here together. We all fit in one long dorm-style hallway. I am looking at a floor plan of the area and there are several other hallways off of a few central rooms or common areas. I also note the large classroom sizes for tomorrow morning. I am guessing that there are a lot more people here that we have not seen yet.

  I get up. It is time to go for a walk and see where things really are, including the cafeteria, the bathrooms, and the rest of the place.

  I open my door and step out. There is no way to lock the room so I just close the door. There is nothing of any real value in my small bag, and I am pretty sure that everything we do here is monitored. Stealing probably gets you kicked out of the program, like everything else does.

  Half of us are in the halls, and people are starting to move toward what is labelled as the cafeteria. It seems like most of us have the same thought. As we come into the cafeteria, I see how large the room really is. There are several people sitting around playing cards. They look up at us.

  There is a guy with blond hair that sticks out everywhere, with a face that maybe a mother could love. He looks up at us from his cards and he calls out, “Welcome! Maybe we can start classes now that the last few of you are here, finally!”

  Those of us who had come walk over to the group as they are putting down their cards.

  Our vocal blonde speaks up and I picture her as the mouth of our group. “How many of us are there here? And where can we get a drink?”

  The blond guy and his friends chuckle and relax a bit more. One of the girls points over to some machines on the serving line. “Pop and cold drinks are over there. Alcoholic beverages are not allowed at entry level because of the assessments we have to go through for the next few weeks.”

  The blond guy laughs at our expressions. “Sorry guys, we have been here longer than you have and already had the ‘welcome to this experiment’ lecture. No worries, they aren’t torturing us much, aside from using boredom.”