I slam my tray down onto the table and sit down. The other recruits barely glance up as I heave myself into my seat. They are barely picking at their food. A few of the girls haven’t even touched their trays. It’s weird. Space-sickness maybe. The Magnolia has been out of Osiris for almost three days. They should be over it already.

I’m starving. After saying a hurried grace, I start into the vary-coloured assortment of tasteless slop in front of me. Ta ma duh, that sergeant in the serving line was sure taking his gorram time! The rest of my bunk had already got their food and been sitting down for a good ten minutes by the time I got there! Gorram military. We’re only on the way to Basic Training, and already there’s a line for everything! A slow line. A hundred other stupid kids, every head shaved to the skin so you can’t even tell what colour their hair was, standing stupidly in line like idiot sheep, barely saying anything. People are sheep. I forget who said that, but they were right. This is a seriously boring bunch. Hardly anyone talks. The foot tastes like mi tian gohn, but no one’s complaining. What the hump?! What is wrong with these kids?

My left hand won’t stop shaking. I try to pick up my glass, and the water starts spilling. Some slops on Carl’s plate. I look at him and mutter ‘Sorry.’ He glances my way, nods slowly, and picks up his fork. Kid carefully selects one bean and places it in his mouth. One bean! It almost makes me want to stab my chopsticks in his eye. Stupid white kid, gets to eat full quarter hour before me, then takes his gorram time. Makes me sick.

But then, I’ve been in the weirdest mood all day. Irritable as hell. I barely slept last night, not that we had long to sleep. Apparently basic training starts shipboard, on the way to the boot camp. Woke up too early, had crap to eat for breakfast, now crap for lunch; the other recruits are all a bunch of indolent losers. Sino-Anglic Alliance Mobile Infantry sucks and the sergeants haven’t even