(David Pov)
I walked through the hallways quietly, taking measured steps on my way to the mess hall after my talk with Dr. Halsey. My feet seemed to carry me as I couldn't seem to bring my vision off of the floor.
Eventually, I entered the mess hall and made my way up to the counter placed on the far side of the room. The heaters that usually held all types of food were already empty and powered down for the day. I sifted through a box placed on the counter, trying to find the most edible MRE that I could, 'Beef stew…' The entire box, which should have been a random assortment, was filled with only one type, the worst type. 'I nearly threw up the first time I had this. I wonder, did everyone pick out all the other flavors, or did Mendez leave these out specifically?' Whether I liked it or not, I still reluctantly took it and prepared the ration.
Grabbing the warmed bag, I walked over, taking a seat in my usual spot, and tore the seal. The stench of preservatives and old vegetables made me wrinkle my nose as I took a breath. I took a moment to psych myself up and pop a spoonful of it into my mouth.
"I thought Benjamin and I would be the only ones eating tonight," my head snapped up as I heard a soft voice from across the table. Looking up, I was surprised to see Cal sitting calmly, eating a ration quietly, "Both Daisy and Sheila decided to go to bed hungry rather than eat it," she said informatively.
I blinked, "How long have you been in here?" I hadn't noticed her presence until the moment she spoke.
"Since before you walked in," she said, responding straightforwardly
I could only scratch my head as an awkward silence began to set in. I went back to eating. Every now and then, I'd glance at Cal. Out of everyone on the team, I had spent the least amount of time with her. She preferred to be the strong, silent type.
"Did they say anything?" I asked, attempting to make some conversation.
Cal responded immediately, "No, they continued arguing like they usually do. Sheila made jokes, Daisy made threats, meanwhile, both Benjamin and I sat to the side," she didn't carry much emotion in her voice, instead speaking as if she were giving a debrief.
"Uh-huh, that sounds about right,"
'What am I going to do with those two?' I thought to myself, 'Even if I decided to take up the role of team leader, the pair were like water and oil.'
"They'll settle down. Eventually," she said, my worries evident on my face.
I snorted, "What makes you think that?" I made it clear I didn't really believe what she said.
She shrugged, "A hunch. People tend to rally when they have someone they can trust over them," she said, sipping on some water from her canteen.
"I bet they do," I said half-heartedly, 'Sheila'd probably fit in with Black team, and Daisy would be good under Joshua on Gold team,' I considered.
Once again, as if reading my mind, she spoke, "Benjamin asked if we'd still be a team in a year," she said off-handedly.
I paused mid-bite, "And what did you say?" I asked curiously.
"I didn't say anything," she said before continuing, "I didn't want to lie to him, but I wasn't about to give him something to worry about." She paused before continuing again, "He'd probably die if he were put on any of the other teams. He's weaker and slower than Oliver, and we both know what happened to him," she said, her eyes slightly wincing at the thought.
I flinched a bit at the mention of 'Oliver'. Hearing her words, I was silent a moment, collecting my thoughts before I spoke again, "Cal," I said, getting her attention. She looked at me, staring into my eyes with her pale yellow eyes, "Be honest. Do you think I should be the one to lead this team?" I asked, searching for a particular answer like a rack to hang my hat.
She set her spoon down on the table, thinking for a moment. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she looked at the ceiling, considering what I had said.
"I'm not sure if anyone is exactly 'right' for it. But if it has to be someone…"
She shrugged lightly
"I'd pick you," she said, light bouncing off her pupils. She calmly reached down, picked up her spoon, and continued eating. Her tone was as if she had spoken a fact, not a compliment.
"After all, you came back for me," she murmured, and for the first time during our conversation, I heard a hint of emotion.
"Yeah? And that earned us an extra 200 push-ups if you don't remember," I said, peering down at the meal in front of me. I didn't feel too hungry anymore.
She leaned in seriously, "Coming back for me. That doesn't make you a good soldier, but it does make you a good leader."
There was a final short silence after she finished speaking. It was getting late, and I was done eating.
After talking so much, I couldn't help but crack a wry smile, "You… usually don't talk so much," I said, a glimmer of intrigue in my eyes.
"Well, you seemed like you needed someone to talk to," she said calmly before standing up, "Good night, David," she said, throwing away her trash and heading in the direction of the barracks
I watched her walk, leaving me alone in the cafeteria. The dull hum of the lights above me. It seemed that no matter what, I wasn't going to get the answer I wanted.
I waited a couple of minutes before leaving as well.
I made my way through the halls, glancing at the walls and their windows overlooking the highland mountains. We were surprised once with training near the ice caps last year, and since then, I had effectively mandated everyone to wear the long-sleeve physical training uniform. If it ended up being too hot, we'd developed a system to rip off the sleeves and edit our uniforms. Surprisingly, it was something that was encouraged, and the other teams copied our idea.
I sighed before inputting the code as I stopped in front of the barracks door. Each team had been given their own room within the barracks since the second month of training.
Stepping into the dark room, I heard the soft breathing of my teammates along the walls. I silently navigated to my bed, a single bunk placed against the far wall of the room. The other beds were bunks on the sides. I quickly loosened my boots and set them down quietly, and climbed beneath the covers.
I wanted to fall asleep, but couldn't stop thinking. I lay on my back staring at the ceiling before I reached up with my right hand, finding the bedpost and pulling a small piece of clothing that was wrapped around it.
Even in the dark I knew what the bold white letters said, Team Leader my fingers traced in the dark, 'You're capable of being one of the best leaders in this program, but you must stop hesitating,' I thought back to what Halsey said, 'Just because you don't lead them, it doesn't mean they won't eventually march to their deaths… What you should be asking is what can you do to ensure the best chances of their survival?'
I sighed, placing it back on the post before turning over in bed. I had one week to decide what I was going to do.
…
..
.
"In the early days of the Roman Republic, after they had done away with their monarchy, they were faced with numerous small-scale wars with their Latin neighbors. These battles, beginning in 496 BC, saw the…"
My eyes struggled to stay open as the history lesson for today began. Not because I was bored, in fact, I actually enjoyed history, and Déjà had a way of making the classes enjoyable.
I rubbed my eyes, resisting the urge to run my finger through them to make them stay open, 'I've been sleeping like a prisoner on death row,' I told myself. Since the talks I had a couple of days ago at night on Monday, I've managed to sleep a cumulative eight hours.
Since then, I couldn't stop this feeling of guilt. It gnawed at me, and I stayed up all night thinking of what I should do.
"Hey, David, are you good?"I shook my head, catching myself before I could nod off, and turned to my left. In front of my gaze was my deskmate Kurt, 051; he was surprisingly tall. Taller than everyone in the class and even me, he… was also probably the kindest person I had met in the class.
Something that was out of place in the program.
"I'm fine, Kurt," I replied slowly as my body struggled to process.
"You sure don't look fine," he said, not believing what I'd said.
I tiredly shooed him before I lay my head on my desk, turned to watch the blue holographic image of Déjà. I enjoyed the cool sensation of the metal against my cheek and ear.
After a moment, I sat up, propping my chin on my hands, which were on my desk, forcing myself to pay attention to the lecture in front of me.
"...And so in comes the first great man of virtue within Roman leadership. His name, according to tradition, is Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus," behind the blue silhouette of the female artificial intelligence, a yellow display molded into the face of a man with curly hair and rough features.
"Cincinnatus lived during this early period of deep instability in the Roman Republic," she said as she waved her refracting hand and the scene of the man's head turned into a scene of an older man plowing a field with rudimentary tools, "He was not a man of ambition, nor a seeker of power. When Rome called for him, he was no general; rather, he was a farmer, tending his own fields,"
As Déjà began to speak, I slowly found that it wasn't as difficult to stay awake. I laid my hands on my desk as I leaned forward, being certain to hear each and every word that flowed from her speakers.
"In 458 BCE, facing an enemy known as the Aequi, the Roman Senate appointed Cincinnatus dictator, granting him absolute authority to save the Republic."
Déjà's tone shifted, a subtle emphasis sharpening her words.
"He accepted the position without hesitation — not because he desired it, but because it was necessary. He rallied Rome's citizens and won a decisive victory in only 16 days if the legend is to be believed." The image behind her morphed into a figure standing on a ridge line, pointing his sword at an enemy line, leading a charge of soldiers.
'Necessity,' my brain honed in on her choice of words, but before I could think further, the lesson continued.
"When all was finished, the people clamored for him to remain in power. They cried out for him as the saviour of Rome, and yet he set down his laurels," she said dramatically with a fake surprised face. "He held a role that almost any other man would pay for with several lifetimes' worth of servitude and relinquished it without a second thought. Instead of becoming the next 'king of Rome,' he returned to his life as a farmer plowing the fields and working his land,"
A final image appeared. It was Cincinnatus setting down a sword and picking up a plow.
"Cincinnatus understood that leadership is not a prize. It is a responsibility, meant to be carried only as long as it is needed. True leaders do not seek authority for themselves. They carry it for the sake of others."
"His legacy endures because he chose duty over ambition. And, when the time came, he chose to lay his burden down and return to the soil."
'Duty over ambition…Responsibility over…fear,' I brought my hand to hold my head as I felt like I had just stumbled into an enlightenment, 'I don't want to do it, he didn't want to do it. But when the time came, he gladly took command,' I sat silently contemplating.
'He did it out of necessity, not because he had some grand desire not for some self-gain… he did it because no one else could,' My mind wandered to what I was told by Cal the other night, 'I don't know if anyone is the 'right person'... but if I had to pick… I'd pick you.'
Then a thought, or rather a memory, sparked in my head, 'Righteousness must always be tempered by responsibility and duty. If not, then it becomes irreverence, and someone who is irreverent of the world around them is among the worst types of people.' I could hear my father telling me just like that day
I sat there in stunned silence for a moment as the last strongholds of my reservations were collapsing. And finally, my mind became set on a realization, 'I have to lead my team, not because I want to, but because I am the only one who can.'
'It's my duty.'
I solemnly swore to myself that I would do what it takes to take care of them, to watch over them as I had now accepted the responsibility.
"What are you thinking about so hard, Dave?" Kurt asked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
"Just…leadership and what it means," I said, showing what I had been pondering.
"That?" Kurt asked before looking toward the ceiling, thinking to himself, "Psshhh, man, you overthink things too much," he said, chuckling to himself.
This time I couldn't help but give a half laugh myself, "Yeah…I guess I do," I said with a slight smile.
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That's it for this chapter.
So the head is done David shall take up the mantle of responsibility for his team. Hopefully it was enjoyable, if not a bit quick. To be honest I didn't want to linger on it for very long, and I struggle writing the touchy-feely shit. I'd rather be writing a fight which we will see in the next couple chapters.
We are closing in on the dawn of war for humanity. I wish there were more that were reading this but nonetheless I am thankful for those that have been sticking with me.
All that's left now is to get the team to start acting like a team.
I start my last full time semester in a week, so I am gonna try and crank out a few chapters until then. (As I am now unemployed for a bit as well).
Got any questions drop them. Until next time.