Science-Fiction Rocks

I apologize for not posting recently. I've been sick this whole week, and this is the first day that I actually feel good about the world. A while ago, I wrote that I was writing a science-fiction story for my Creative Writing class. It had to be a minimum of three pages. I will post the story (in two posts) on this blog. And beware...this work is also unedited. Tell me in the comments below if you like it.

It was Troubleshooting Day, and I fell asleep in military school. So when my old PM-590 malfunctioned during our Real-Time Combat Activity (RTCA) today, I had no clue how to fix it. They always give the youngest and smallest guys the worst tech. And this wasn’t the only time that I’ve fallen asleep in class either. Just last week, I was innocently sitting in Strategics, and all of a sudden I just nodded off.

I don’t really know how it happened; Professor Gottlob was talking about, oh, I dunno, ancient Greek army formations, and I just totally conked out on my desk. I mean, Greek army formations are interesting compared to the other things we learn in that class, but something about having to digest that crap on a bright and beautiful Friday afternoon just disagreed with me. And so I rebelled by falling asleep.

 “ROBERT!” Gottlob yelled as he slammed the textbook on my desk.

“I’m up, I’m up.” I replied sleepily, proving that I definitely had not been up.

“Did you hear what I asked you, Robert?” I was lucky I hadn’t gotten buzzed; Gottlob was what they called a “buzzer.” There was some new DM (Disciplinary Method) where teachers were allowed to electrically buzz students for any reason. Being a “buzzer” meant that you were a teacher who buzzed often. But I think Gottlob liked me.

“Ahh, no. I was sleeping. What was the question?”

“I ASKED you about the Trojan War. What do you know about it?”

“Well, there was a giant horse, and the Greeks piled up inside of it, and they attacked the Trojan city. Right?”

“Exactly. What does this lesson teach us about WAR, gentlemen?”

No one answered.

“It teaches us that the Trojans were idiots for allowing that to happen! Here at Peta Military School, we strive to create smart and strong young men who would not, in the Trojans position, have let a giant wooden horse into their city! Do you read me, gentlemen?”

I glanced over at the guy sitting next to me, and we shared a subdued laugh.

“Did I say something humorous, Robert? Graham?”

“Uh, it’s nothing sir. Pay it no mind.”

Whenever a teacher says the full name of our school, I laugh. I can’t help it. You would laugh too, if the initials for your military school spelled out PMS. It contributed to the whole idea that seemingly all of our teachers had sticks up their butts most of the time. Okay, okay, I’m pretty immature, but if you’re like me and you don’t have anything going for you, you gotta play the part of the clown. It’s the only way you fit in. I mean, I’m short, weak, and dumb. What else am I supposed to do with my time?

Anyways, I was glad that I had only fallen asleep during Greek army formations day. However, as I mentioned in the beginning, I fell asleep again on Troubleshooting day, too. THAT mistake almost turned into a fatal one. I learned my lesson that time, which was don’t fall asleep, and don’t be a smart-alec to your fellow students.

So anyways, we were learning how to fix the standard issue PM-590 in the event that it would lock up and not shoot. I nodded off, and this time, no one bothered to wake me up. When the end-of-class noise went off, I jolted awake and hurried to my next class. After two more classes, the day was over and it was time to eat dinner. We had to walk through the courtyard to get to the mess hall, and the courtyard has this big metal box hanging above it. The box could be lowered at any time to create an impromptu combat practice session. Sometimes it happened while we were walking to dinner.

Today was one of those days. A loud metallic screeching noise signaled the descent of the box, and everyone around me tensed up and mentally prepared themselves for battle. The box hit the ground and stayed there, and I looked around to refamiliarize myself with the battleground. The box had obstacles and stairways built into it to create a rather interesting and varied battle site. There was one big wall where everybody got their guns, and after we were all prepped, the timer gave us 30 seconds to get in a specific location. After those 30 seconds, the battle would begin, with the last guy standing being declared the winner.

After grabbing my gun, I turned tail and ran for my own special starting point. It wasn’t an official one, really. I actually started every battle with a little bit of cheating. I started under one of the obstacles, in an area of ripped tarp where I could tuck under a bunker and hide for most of the match.

So I already said how small I was, but I was actually a pretty good shot with the old PM-590. Why did I hide during battles, then? Because everybody else relied on brute force to win, rather than skill with a gun. So I was hanging out in my little secret cubby, and I waited for a while to let a couple people get eliminated. Then I went out from my cubby and into the battle for the first time.

That's roughly half of my story. I will post the other half next, obviously. I would really appreciate some helpful comments on this concept, because this story is another contender to be my November novel. (You'll see how after the ending.) Thank you, and...smell ya later!