Jay Allan - Tombstone

“Welcome to Camp Puller.” I was about to say something, but he beat me to it. “I’m Captain Sam Jackson.” He paused and smiled. “And you are a very resourceful young man who, among other things, has nothing but a scar where his implant was.”

I leaned back nervously. My first thought was, they will figure out who I am and send me back to the farm. For that matter, just removing the implant was highly illegal. He must have read my mind, because he laughed softly. “Don’t worry; we’re really not interested in whatever you’ve done. You were stealing from us, and we don’t care. We’re certainly not concerned with what you did to anyone else. Or the fact that you removed your implant.” After a brief pause: “We’re not cops.”

I looked up at him, feeling better but still groggy. “You’re a Marine?” I took a good look at him. I guessed he was about 35, though I wasn’t sure. He could have been younger or, with a rejuv treatment or two, quite a bit older. His hair was light brown, neatly trimmed, and his face was pleasant, relaxed. He certainly didn’t match my expectation of a Marine. The Corps had a reputation for producing savage fighters, but this guy looked like someone who spent his day in front of a workstation. I laugh when I look back – now I realize that Captain Jackson could have dropped me in half a second, despite the fact that he was ten centimeters shorter and at least 20 kilos lighter.

“Yes, I'm a Marine.” He could tell what I was thinking, and he smiled again. “Surprised I’m not three meters tall with weapons growing out of my arms?” He reached out and dragged one of the chairs closer to the cot. “We have a few things to discuss. Why don’t we start with your name?” He sat with the chair turned around, leaning against the back.

“Jax. Darius Jax.” I’d been thinking, I’m not going to tell this guy anything, but my mouth opened and my name came out. It’s not like they couldn’t find out anyway. I got my implant out, but I couldn’t change my DNA. I was in the main database just like anybody else. Besides, I had the strangest feeling he was trying to help me.

“Interesting name. I’ve seen a lot of guys come through here, but you’re the first Darius. Persian king, right?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. My education at the time was almost non-existent. The government didn’t waste resources educating Cogs and Croppers. I’d had an hour a day of online classes at the farm, but it was nothing but basics. I wasn’t entirely illiterate, but ancient history was well beyond my knowledge base. I didn’t even know what a Persian was. Years later, at the Academy, I was finally able to answer his question. Two famous Persian kings, actually, the second enjoying the dubious privilege of facing off against Alexander the Great.

When I didn’t answer he just continued. “Doesn’t matter. Let me get right to the point.” He straightened up slightly in the chair. “I’m here to offer you a chance to join the Corps.”

“What?” The word just blurted out. I hadn't been sure what he was going to say, but that was certainly not what I was expecting.

“You heard me, Darius.” There was a smile on his face – he was enjoying this, the SOB. “I’d like to make a Marine out of you.”

“Why would you want me?” About half a dozen responses came to my mind, but that’s the one that came out. I couldn't imagine why they'd be after me. The entire thing seemed ridiculous.

He let out a short breath. “Darius, the Corps is unlike any other military organization. We are looking for a certain type of recruit.” He stopped for a few seconds as he put together what he wanted to say. “Most of us have pasts like yours…” He looked me right in the eye. “…or worse.” He emphasized that last part and let it sink in before he continued. “Some a lot worse. I’m from the LA Metroplex myself. The Valley.”

The Valley was one of the most notorious slums in the U.S. I didn’t know much about other places, but I’d heard of the Valley. If this guy grew up there it was no joke. “So you guys need a thief? What, did your budgets get cut and you're looking for new income?”

He smiled and snorted slightly, not quite a laugh. “No, Darius, we need independent thinkers. We need doers. Not easy to find.”

I laughed. “And you think that’s me? What makes you think I’m what you’re looking for?”

“Well, for one, you obviously cut out your own implant, which suggests that you have the toughness you will need to make it through our program. A sloppy surgeon to be sure, but it takes a certain grit to do what you did.”

“Big deal, you want tough you should head up to Louisville and hit up some of the Gangers there.”

He held in a small laugh. “I said tough, not crazy. We aren’t looking for psychopaths, Darius. Look at you…you are very measured in how you do things. You haven’t been terribly forthcoming with me, but you haven’t been overtly hostile either. Measured.”

“So the fact that I didn’t tell you to fuck off makes me Marine material?” The whole thing still seemed crazy to me.

“It’s more than what you say or don’t say. Look at how you ran your little gang. You robbed us three times – we were watching you after the first, by the way – and didn’t kill or seriously injure anyone. You did what you needed to do to survive, but you didn’t escalate the situation past what was required. It is very clear you are deliberative, brave but cautious. Just what we want.”

Still on my mind: “You were watching us?” I hadn’t had a clue. “Why didn’t you stop us sooner?”

“Why do you think? He had an annoying smirk on his face. He clearly enjoyed these head games.

“My God, you’re fucking kidding me.” This was getting more and more bizarre. “You were watching to see if you wanted to recruit us?”

“Very good.” He leaned forward over the back of the chair. “You are starting to understand. It was pretty clear from your first robbery that you knew what you were doing. You even watched the convoys, and you hit the specific cargo that was easiest for you to move.” He paused slightly. "Unless that was a coincidence."

"It was no coincidence." I felt a little naked; they had us completely figured out. "I wasn't looking for the kind of attention stealing weapons or high tech stuff would bring."

"Look, Darius, trust me." His voice changed slightly, less casual, more serious. "You are the kind of recruit you're looking for. You’re clearly intelligent, despite your lack of education." He smiled again. "And your robberies displayed some first rate small unit tactics."

He let me think for a minute. Why would I want to be a Marine anyway? Just because they invited me? "Look, I appreciate the offer, but why would I want to join up anyway? So I can go get my ass shot off…what? In space?" He nodded. "You figure I'll join up so you don't turn me in. Because it's better to take your deal than end up getting sent to the lunar mines for stealing?"

"Or sentenced to gas by the megafarm magistrate back home?" He had a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Of course we know who you are, Darius. We're not imbeciles." He paused, clearly enjoying my dumbstruck silence. "But to answer your question, no, if you so no to us we won't turn you in. Not for your robberies and certainly not to the megacorp that runs that farm."

"You'll just let me go?" I looked at him quizzically. "Just walk out the door?"

"Yes. With a stern warning never to steal from us again." He looked at me and his eyes were deadly serious. "A very stern warning."

I was quiet for maybe half a minute, trying to process everything he said. Free to go? I could just walk out? "So if that's true, why would I ever agree to sign up? If you're not blackmailing me with prosecution why shouldn't I just leave now?"