Light Years Read Online Free Page B

soldier.
    I signed for two types of uniforms: training and formal; two belts: one for each type of uniform; sandals, skirt, hat, a first-aid kit, and dog tags with my name and personal number. When I finished with my service, I’d have to return most of the stuff.
    I rolled up my sleeve and a nurse with a gunlike injector shot a triple cocktail of vaccines into the meat of my left shoulder.
    After everyone was done with the necklace, we assembled in squads and stood at attention.
    “Heads up!” a drill sergeant shouted the first time we stood in formation. “Shoulders back!” My chin practically pointed at the sky. I was arched back so far I felt like I might fall over. It seemed a bit silly, standing there in my new uniform, my shoulder blades nearly touching.
    The drill sergeant inspected each girl, tugging at uniforms, nudging chins. When she had us arranged to her liking, she stood in front of us, her legs shoulder-width apart, elbows bent, hands behind her back.
    “Welcome to boot camp,” she said coldly. “Don’t expect a vacation. You will work hard and study hard. I expect you to pass your classes and your physical training. Failure to follow orders will result in unpleasant consequences.” She stressed the word unpleasant. “If you follow orders, if you are disciplined, if you are not lazy, fat, or slovenly, then I think we will get along fine. If you are spoiled, if you are lazy, if you aredisobedient, then I think”—she paused for a second, then smiled—“then I think we will have a very interesting three weeks.”
    We were herded onto buses again. These drove us to where the actual boot-camp training took place. I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept the night before. As soon as the bus pulled away and that humming purr of the engine settled into its highway lullaby, I saw heads nod forward or tilt at odd angles as nearly everyone fell asleep.
    I woke up when the bus lurched to a stop and the girl sitting next to me grabbed my hand.
    “We’re here,” she said.
    Once we got off the bus, the twelve of us in my squad huddled together until the instructor we were assigned to found us. The boot-camp instructors, Makits, were aloof and took themselves very seriously. Like the rest of the Makits, ours wore the brim of her hat pulled low over her eyes. She stood in front of us when she had us line up and I hated that I couldn’t tell where she was looking. She showed us our barracks. We dropped off our gear on the narrow beds and then fell in again outside.
    “My name is Drill Sergeant Orit,” she said. She sounded much calmer than the drill sergeant at Tel Hashomer. “There are three basic sections to your training: weapons training, chemical and biological weapons protection, and first aid. Every day, wake-up is at five. You have thirty minutes before morning formation. After formation, you’ll participate in morning physical training, then morning inspection. Afterthat, you go to the dining hall for breakfast.” She outlined the standard schedule of each day.
    I liked knowing when and where I was supposed to be. The program sounded tedious but not terribly hard. I can do this, I thought. This isn’t such a big deal. Our Makit seemed very sensible, and she explained things clearly and simply. Just when I was ready to write off Drill Sergeant Orit as a good egg, one of the girls in the squad blew a bubble-gum bubble and it popped loudly. Orit stalked over to the girl.
    “What do you think you’re doing?”
    The girl looked a bit surprised. “I’m chewing gum. What, aren’t we allowed to chew gum?”
    “Soldier!” Orit barked, startling us all. “You do not have permission to look me in the eye!”
    All of us sucked in our breath and, while looking straight ahead, tried to see what was going on.
    “You are not allowed to chew gum! You are not allowed to blow bubbles! And you are not allowed to be disrespectful!”
    I think what shocked me the most was how quickly Orit went from being