The Stealth Lovers

By Cait Gordon

After submitting to mandatory conscription,
two young men begin Basic Training, or, "Vacay in Hay."

Xaxall Dwyer Knightly saunters onto base without a care in the worlds, filled to the brim with sass. He has the strength of five warriors and earns the distinction of being the only trainee to throw someone through a supporting wall.

Vivoxx Nathan Tirowen, son of a prominent general, carries himself with a naturally-commanding presence. Possessing an uncanny talent with weaponry, his drill sergeant is convinced Vivoxx could "trim the pits of a rodent without nicking the skin."

When the two recruits meet, one smiles warmly while the other speaks gibberish. Little do they know the bond they feel will lead them to become the venerable military pairing known as

The Stealth.

"The fiercest, most formidable warrior-lovers in the 'Cosm
are back. And the battle has never been so fabulous!"
Stephen Graham-King, author of A Congress of Ships

"Cait Gordon sent us on a ride full of pew-pew physics and
one of the absolute best traits of people: our humour."
'Nathan Burgoine, Lambda Literary finalist and author of Light

"HOLY STARS, I loved everything about this novel!!!"
Jamieson Wolf, author of Little Yellow Magnet

• Language: English
• Publisher: Renaissance Press
• Release date: Mar 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393452362

Cait Gordon

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of "Life in the 'Cosm", "The Stealth Lovers", and "Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space" (2023). Her short stories appear in "Alice Unbound: Beyond Wonderland", "We Shall Be Monsters", "Space Opera Libretti", and "Stargazers: Microtales from the Cosmos". Cait also founded The Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the "Nothing Without Us" and "Nothing Without Us Too" anthologies, whose authors and protagonists are disabled, d/Deaf or hard-of-hearing, Blind or visually impaired, neurodivergent, Spoonie, and/or they manage mental illness.

Book preview

Part One:

Noobs

Chapter One

Vacay in Hay

Deep into the Dexthra quadrant orbited a triad of planets, each with a reputation known throughout the galaxy. The smallest of the three was Zodra, a world inhabited by mystical, spiritual beings called the Dwa. Their leadership were the Sisters of Peace, governed by the head monks, commonly addressed as The Mothers. While the majority of the two-headed Dwa contained both female and male entities encased in a singular body, the Sisters of Peace were entirely comprised of women living harmoniously as one.

The two larger planets were Gradyl and Dragal, notorious for wars that endured for decades, centuries, or even millennia. While Gradyl—whose people appeared to be carved from stone—warred for self-interest and domination, Dragal fought to defend others and had become fiercely loyal to the Dwa of Zodra. The reptilian Draga warriors had been regarded as fearful in form but benevolent in heart. At least that’s what the people from other planets who’d been rescued by Dragal’s military had felt. Gradyl’s unquenchable thirst for occupation of new worlds meant that the majority of the citizens of Dragal, who were fit for duty, must be ready for battle at a moment’s notice. Mandatory service had been in practice since time immemorial.

So, out of obligation rather than heartfelt duty, a certain young man had arrived on base. He was 19 and automatically conscripted, like the others who had alighted their transports. Because being here aligned with Dragal Law, no one even thought to protest their situation. Although, he could have tried. Arguing was sort of his thing, and he revelled in it.

He stood with bare arms folded across his broad chest, coral and olive scales glistening in the early afternoon. This would be the only time—in forever—that a day on base would begin later than dawn. Even though reluctant and clueless of what he could contribute, he stood confident in his stocky frame, wearing a crisply starched tunic. He sneered for a brief moment, revealing his fangs before rolling his eyes so they could almost see inside his brain.

Oh, what rapture, whined Private Knightly, gazing at the odd collection of new recruits. I’m so looking forward to this extended twelve-week orgasm. Holy stars.

Xaxall! Watch what you say around your little sister, scolded his mother, wagging a digit wrapped in periwinkle and green scales. And don’t blaspheme.

Four-year-old Celia, who had the same colouring as her mama, stuck out her tongue at her older brother, then burst into giggles.

Yes, Mother, he groaned.

Now, let me take a picture of my dashing son. Your father so regrets he can’t be with you, and I want to send him something to remember you by.

Remember me by? Why? Am I going to kick the bucket on kitchen duty? Damn those veggies! I always knew they’d been plotting to strangle me with their own vines. Murderous lot!

Xaxall Knightly, don’t be cheeky.

But I’m so good at it.

Lucinda Dwyer gave her son the look. Xaxall struck a pose. She knew she’d have to be content with the boy mimicking a statue of the great war heroes of old. She hated to admit it, but his imitation was spot on, down to the imaginary steed he supposedly rode. If only Xaxall could actually apply himself to The Service, Lucinda mused. She had expressed to her Xaquiris that their boy might not be cut out to be a warrior. A stage actor, most likely, with his flair for the dramatic. Still, there had been no choice. Perhaps the next two years of this tour of duty would go quickly, then he could settle down to an occupation he’d enjoy better. Xaquiris wouldn’t be pleased, as he hoped the boy would follow in his footsteps, but what could parents really do with an adult child? His life was his choice.

She snapped a few more pictures, and this time Celia also pretended she was a warrior. Lucinda smiled proudly. She could definitely imagine Celia as a general.

Is that it, Mother? asked Xaxall. Or should we take a few more for my portfolio? Who needs a fashion runway when we’re standing on an actual runway!

Xaxall dear, if you don’t round up your tongue, your drill sergeant is going to cut it from your mouth. I beg you to reign it in. Don’t embarrass your father.

The private bent down and kissed her cheek. Don’t you worry, Mother. I promise to only use my tongue for good and not evil. Rowwwr!

She sighed, slumping her shoulders. And do try not to be such a flirt, dear. Let the men be.

Okay, see, now that’s just silly talk.

Despite herself, she giggled and embraced her son. What’s a mother to do with such a boy?

Just love me. He squeezed back.

Well, I do, and so does your father. And of course, so does our Celia.

Celia pulled a face. Yuck, no I don’t!

Xaxall pushed her hat over her eyes. She punched his leg.

Please be careful and come back to us? pleaded Lucinda.

Xaxall gave his mother one more squish and let go.

Bah, I’m quite indestructible, Mother. He marched with an exaggerated gait, twirled back, and bowed flamboyantly. Then he waved and blew them kisses.

Lucinda waved back, willing the tears not to fall as she watched her only son greet his fellow recruits.

At the VIP hangar stood three souls, each possessing the unique grey and mauve scales of a highly regarded clan, whose ancient origins could be traced back to the first rulers of the planet. Without even identifying themselves, their appearance prompted a certain amount of awe from any onlookers. But for all the pomp their presence naturally commanded, this trio was merely a family saying goodbye to each other.

It’s a pity Joella couldn’t be here today, said Bonfrinza Tirowen.

I remember when you saw me off for basic training, said General Nathan Tirowen, squeezing his wife’s hand.

Vivoxx smiled at his parents, but his expression quickly faded when he thought about his intended. He loved her deeply. They’d grown up together and shared so many secrets. Except one. Last night he desperately tried to tell her, but she looked so beautiful in the shimmering dress that highlighted the gold in her scales. She’d also gone through such great lengths to arrange one last supper on the terrace. Her face had been filled to the brim with worry and he couldn’t bear to add to her stresses. Joella had said she wouldn’t see him off in the morning because she knew she would have fallen apart, and she wanted to spare him remembering her in such a state.

His dear Joella. So lovely on the outside and even more so inside her soul. She deserved to be handed the galaxy on a platter, although she wished for nothing but love and kindness. He had tried with all his might to be the man she wanted. His heart ached insufferably. She meant the worlds to him.

Now, Vivoxx, said the general, Sergeant Paxtoll is tough, but fair. I can think of no one more suited to begin your training. You mind him and remember who you are and the family you represent.

Yes, Father, said Vivoxx. I won’t disappoint you, sir.

Nate Tirowen reached out for his son and held him closely. You never do, my boy.

Vivoxx could feel his mother’s hand stroking his head. We’re very proud of you, and we know you’ll do well.

The son let go of his father and kissed both of his mother’s cheeks. Thank you. That means a lot to me.

Bonnie Tirowen caressed his jaw. Don’t you fret about anything on our end. Joella and I will plan everything and in two years’ time, there shall be a wedding unlike any this planet’s ever seen.

Vivoxx gulped and did his best to smile. All right, Mother.

Aw, Nate, look, he’s nervous about getting married. Isn’t that sweet?

The general chuckled. It’s okay, my boy. I felt the same. My father told me all the best husbands get jittery before the wedding. It just means you’re taking the commitment seriously.

Vivoxx nodded. There was truth in that. He considered this commitment as serious as heart failure.

Well, off with you, then, said Bonnie. My brave boy!

Good luck, son, said the general. Write me often. You’ve my new contact info?

Yes, Father. And I will write. Love to you both. He added that last bit shyly.

His parents beamed and returned the sentiment, only much more boldly.

After hours of being poked and prodded for the last official health inspection, the recruits were handed the bland uniforms, whose colour flirted between brown and grey. Everything down to their underpants was that sickly soil shade, which contrasted greatly against the vivid hues of the recruits’ scales.

Xaxall stripped out of his tunic and underclothes and got dressed by the bunk he’d chosen in their barracks.

Hey! shouted a recruit looking for a bed. Are you the top or the bottom?

That’s a bit of a personal question, isn’t it? quipped Xaxall. Can’t you at least buy me a drink first?

The recruit froze.

Oh, holy stars, relax. I’m taking the bottom bunk.

Ah, right. The recruit shook his head and laughed. I’m Joreth. Joreth Knoll. He was about medium height, well-toned, with scales a gradient from rust to a rich brown. The private offered his hand in greeting.

Xaxall Knightly, but just call me Xax. He shook his comrade’s hand rigorously.

Joreth yelped.

Xax let go. Yeah, sorry. I tend to do that. Gotta learn to ease up. Broke a few bones once.

Okay, so note to self, said Joreth, nursing his fingers, no hand-to-hand combat with this guy!

Xax snickered and punched his arm affectionately.

Ow!

Aw, nuts, said Xax.

Please, just don’t touch me. Even if you think it’ll save my life.

Sorry, Joreth. I didn’t mean—

A piercing fitness whistle interrupted any further exchange. Sergeant Paxtoll stood akimbo at the entrance to their barracks. His angular, maroon features and sculpted physique remained in prime form after decades of training hatchlings.

Listen up, worm food! he bellowed. One of your lot didn’t pass the final physical and we’ve sent him home. Another barracks had been erroneously assigned too many recruits, so I’ve confiscated one who’ll do nicely for our team. He’s the son of General Tirowen, so I’m expecting great things not only out of him, but also from you. It won’t do to have the rest of you looking like uncoordinated slobs. We want the general to faint from pleasure at our performance stats.

Ugh, really? whispered Xax to Joreth. A Tirowen? We don’t have to curtsey or anything, do we?

The Tirowens haven’t been royalty for two thousand years.

Yet, everyone still treats them like they are, said Xax. I’m not going to polish his crown with my spit, that’s for sure. We’re all the same rank as far as I’m concerned.

KNIGHTLY! You have something to share with the rest of the class?

No, Sergeant.

Oh, pretty please, Private. Don’t leave me in suspense!

Xax willed his eyes not to roll. I just told Private Knoll how thrilled to teeny bits I am to welcome such an esteemed member of Dragal society into our little family.

The sergeant sneered. Good! Then you’ll be in charge of his happiness, which will in turn mean his father’s happiness. Consider Private Tirowen your best buddy from now on.

But Sarge—

As you were! Paxtoll barked, and promptly left.

Xax picked up his kit bag and slammed it on his bunk, accidentally pushing the mattress rack off its rail and clean through to the floor. He cursed in words that would have even reddened the cheeks of his sergeant, as he fiddled with getting the bed back together.

Bleeding Tirowens. I hear they’re snobs of the highest order, he muttered, wrestling with his top sheet. I am so not cementing myself to the side of one of those precious princes or dukes or lords or whatever they’re called now, and doting on his every word. That Tirowen’s got another thing coming, let me tell you. In fact, the moment I lay my eyes on him, I’m gonna tell him exactly where he can shove his tiara!

Shh, Xax! He’s coming.

Xax fluffed his pillow, resisting a punch which would send it into another dimension, and turned around.

The general’s son stood just before them, in front of an empty bunk. He placed his kit bag on the mattress and grinned.

Hello, I’m Private Vivoxx Tirowen.

Hey, I’m Private Knoll. This is Private Knightly.

The newest member of their barracks shook Joreth’s hand, and when he turned his attention to Xax, Vivoxx smiled warmly.

Hello, Private Knightly.

Xax blinked twice. I-I-ga-da-erm-da-um-I-I...

Vivoxx raised an eyebrow. Xax tried again:

Da-der-da-I-I-I...

I’m sorry? Do you speak a different dialect?

I-dee-da-I... I...

Joreth put his hand on Xax’s shoulder. Are you okay, pal? Do you need a medic?

Ex-ex-excuse me for a second, stammered Private Knightly. He walked swiftly across the room, through the door, and out to the training yard. When he spotted the steep hill used for running endurance, he bolted up the path as fast as he could.

His mind raced: Tall, so tall, with the stance of a natural-born leader. Grace of a prince. Body of a mythical god. And that smile, those deep grey eyes. He can’t be real. Surely someone assembled him in a laboratory. If that’s true, I want to kiss his creator full on the mouth, and maybe add a little bit of tongue for good measure. Vivoxx Tirowen absolutely, 100% without a single doubt...cannot be a mortal being. Oh, gosh, and he chose the bunk right beside mine?!

Xax made it to the summit and collapsed on his hands and knees. When he finally caught his breath, he screamed on top of his lungs:

OH, MY FREAKING WORD, DID YOU SEE THAT MAN???

Eventually, after a good amount of praising the Maker of the stars for creating such an astonishing specimen, which basically proved to Private Knightly that the Maker of the stars truly existed, Xax ran back down the hill to rejoin the other recruits. No sooner did he return to the barracks when he noticed everyone changing into shorts and undershirts. He dashed to his bunk to follow suit.

Good, you’re back, said Joreth.

What did I miss? asked Xax, lifting off his sweaty t-shirt and reaching for a fresh tank.

Sarge wants us ‘flabby maggots’ to build up our appetites before supper.

Xax patted his firm abs. Ah, well, then I guess I can stay back and catch up on my novel. Have fun, chubs. He flopped down on his bed and pretended to hold an e-reader.

Joreth responded by flinging his used underpants at Xax’s face.

Ew! Hey, are you trying to give me pinkeye?

On your feet, soldier!

I just ran up and down that blasted hill. My appetite is quite elevated, thank you very mu— His words were cut off as Private Tirowen came back from the latrine, put away his toothbrush, and stood by his bunk.

When Vivoxx saw Private Knightly staring, Private Tirowen said, My mouth felt grotty.

Xax nodded silently.

Vivoxx extended an arm. I don’t believe we completed our introduction earlier. Vivoxx Tirowen. A pleasure.

Only about 20 quintillion units of electricity charged through Xax’s veins the moment their hands clasped, so he was pretty sure he’d be well enough to stand up. He was wrong, and he found himself quickly caught by his new acquaintance.

Goodness, I don’t think you’re quite well, said Vivoxx. Shall we call for aid?

Xax propped himself up by holding onto Vivoxx’s biceps. I-I just ran. Tired. Maybe.

Do you think you can stand, or perhaps would it be better if I lay you down?

Ohhh, goshhh. Xax felt weak all over.

Joreth broke the spell by putting his arm around Xax and helping him to his bunk. Viv, could you bring him some water? I think old Xax here might be a bit dehydrated.

Absolutely. Private Tirowen gently patted Xax’s shoulder. Don’t worry. We’ll have you sorted out in no time. He smiled reassuringly and took off in search of some fluids for the ailing recruit.

Xax’s gaze followed until Vivoxx was out of sight.

Joreth cleared his throat.

Xax looked at him.

Sooo, began Joreth, when’s the part where you tell our esteemed comrade where he can shove his tiara?

Oh, shut up. Xax flopped on the mattress and covered his eyes with an arm.

Joreth swatted the recruit’s side. Same thing happened to me, you know.

Xax lifted his arm. What?

When I met Helena, I also spoke in gibberish. Seeing her the first time was like getting hit in the face with a frying pan. I’d been struck giddy.

I have no idea what you mean. I’m just thirsty.

Yeah, I bet you are.

Vivoxx rushed back to the bed and knelt by Xax. Here you go. This should help.

Xax managed to get up and took the beverage from Vivoxx’s hand, accidentally brushing his fingers against Private Tirowen’s. Private Knightly jolted once more.

Thanks, Vivoxx.

Viv. Call me Viv.

Xax exhaled erratically. Nice to properly meet you, Viv.

Nice to meet you, too.

Xax guzzled down the contents so he wouldn’t have to say a word or look at the man or concentrate on anything except maybe not drowning on the massive amount of liquid gushing down his throat.

Corporal Remoxx appeared at the barracks entrance and bellowed in her strong voice, Training Room 2B49! Now!

Everyone hopped to it. After all, they were pretty much starving and the quicker they pleased the sarge, the sooner they’d be in the Mess.

The expansive gymnasium they entered was covered with mats where some recruits had been paired for wrestling matches. On the left side of the room were women from another barracks, already engaged in a fight.

Well, if that doesn’t get my blood boiling, I don’t even know what will, eh, boys? said a loud and raunchy voice from behind Xax, Viv, and Joreth. They turned around to see a burly soul practically salivating at the female recruits across the room.

Viv watched the women in action. Some of them are quite good already. I could use a few pointers.

I bet we could all point ourselves in their direction, if you get my meaning, said the new guy with a hearty guffaw, slapping Viv on the back. Erwin Dirk, he extended his seaweed-green hand.

Vivoxx—

Oh, I know, friend. Your father is a living legend. It’s a pleasure to shake your hand. Just do me a favour, eh?

Viv raised an eyebrow.

You’re a handsome devil, so give me a chance at some of those ladies, will ya?

Uh, well, I’m already betrothed, so...

Like that ever stopped anyone before! Erwin guffawed again.

Viv frowned.

Ah, hey, I’m only kidding, buddy. Congrats on your upcoming nuptials. She’s a lucky girl. Probably over the moon to be with a real man’s man, if you get my meaning. Not like the wusses in this lot. The men’ll do well to follow the lead of a Tirowen, that’s for sure!

Yes, well, this is Private Joreth Knoll.

Good to meet you, said Joreth with a handshake.

Pleasure! said Erwin.

And this is Private Xaxall Knightly, said Viv.

Erwin Dirk reached for Xax’s hand and as they clasped, Xax sharply twisted his wrist so it would appear he wanted Private Dirk to kiss his hand.

Charmed! said Xax.

Erwin let go as if he’d been stung by a poisonous flying insect.

Viv bit the inside of his cheek.

Why, isn’t lil’ old me just overwhelmed by such a display of masculinityness, said Xax, gazing at Dirk while pretending to feel faint. Oh, my delicate disposition! How will I ever go on? He fell into Viv’s arms.

Please, mister lord-dukely prince, Xax drawled, fetch me my smelling salts. I just cannot sustain my strength in this sea of testosterone. You see, my mama kept me from the company of gentlemen all my life, and I’m so overcome by their raw, musky, powerful nature!

Viv shook his head with a grin. Are you quite done?

Uh, probably not for a while, replied Xax. However, he did push himself—reluctantly—out of Viv’s grasp and flashed an expression of undiluted sass upon Erwin Dirk.

Private Dirk sneered. Yeah, you’ll never make it past the first day.

A whistle blew. In walked Sergeant Paxtoll, followed by Corporal Remoxx.

Right, you slugs! I look forward to watching you embarrass yourselves. Rules are simple: two of you on the mats, claws and fangs retracted. I don’t want a bloody mess. First one to pin down the other for more than five seconds wins. Remoxx, pair the maggots!

Knoll, Tirowen! Farath, Boyedd! Jerroxx, Tirroll! Dirk, Knightly!

As she continued shouting out the rest of the names, Xax caught sight of Private Dirk throwing out a menacing stare. No doubt Erwin felt more than ready to put Xax in his place after the stunt Private Knightly had just pulled.

On the mat, Joreth and Viv gave it their best shot, neither being skilled at this particular sport. Viv had more muscle mass and was stronger, but Joreth could be quick, and that’s what eventually caught Viv off guard. Private Tirowen hit the mat and Private Knoll managed to keep him there for the longest six seconds of his life.

The whistle blew, signalling Joreth’s victory. He offered a hand to help Viv get up.

Well done, whispered Viv. You’re fast.

Yeah, well, not wanting to get pummelled by you sort of inspired me.

Tirowen, you disappoint me, said the sarge. You’ll run 25 laps for this after we’re all through here but before you hit the Mess.

Yes, Sergeant.

Farath and Boyedd hadn’t been that much more impressive. Jerroxx and Tirroll however, were equally skilled and stirred up some excitement from their comrades. It seemed obvious they’d both been well-trained in Draginian wrestling. Moves were blocked, holds broken, and each man wriggled out of the other’s clutches no sooner than he’d entered into them. No matter how hard they tried, they could not get a lock on their opponent. Eventually, the whistle had to be blown because neither Jerrox nor Tirroll could come out ahead to win the match.

If I concentrate hard enough, I could manage to feel slightly impressed by that, said the sergeant. This is what you invertebrates need to aspire to. Right. Who’s next?

Dirk and Knightly, said Corporal Remoxx.

Well, have at it, then. And don’t be afraid to throw each other. I want to see something approximating a real show of strength.

The recruits took their positions on the mat, and bowed respectfully, as was the custom. When they circled each other during the countdown to when they’d be allowed to engage in contact, Erwin spoke so only Xax could hear.

You think I don’t know what you are, Knightly? We all do, as you wear it so proudly on your ruffled sleeve, if you get my meaning. This match will be a breeze since I’m guessing your greatest skill is pressing wildflowers. So, go on, deviant. Give it your all. Work me like your pansies.

And...go! shouted the sergeant, clicking his timer.

At four or five seconds it was all over. Erwin charged Xax with self-driven momentum and Private Knightly grabbed and flung Private Dirk well off the mat and into the supporting wall of the exercise room. Actually, Erwin’s body went partly through the thing. Surprisingly, he survived. You could hear him groaning.

The room went quiet. The sergeant dropped his watch, whistle, and jaw.

Private Knightly shrugged his shoulders. Sorry about that. I normally use a couple of clay slabs when I press wildflowers, but one does one’s best with what one has—he smirked—if you get my meaning.

The sergeant remained unblinking. Finally, he shook himself awake and yelled into his comm, We need a medic in Training Room 2B49!

Xax walked off the mat nonchalantly and stood beside Viv and Joreth. Viv couldn’t take his eyes off him. Xax felt the weight of someone watching him and turned his head.

What?

Viv smiled. Nothing.

Clear the room! Now! shouted the sergeant.

They all obeyed without looking back. Once outside Viv asked Xax, Weren’t you concerned you could have killed Private Dirk with a move like that?

Not much. I could tell he’s from the Tobias continent. I used to go there almost every summer to visit with my mother’s cousins. Many of the Tobiasian Draga have an extra skin, like armour. You can tell if they do by their scales, which are thicker and lie slightly at an angle, and not flat. Anyway, our own enchanting Private Dirk should be up and about in no time, ready to enrapture us with his rapier wit and incomparable personality.

I saw him speaking to you before the fight. What did he say?

Gee, I can’t remember. All I heard was something that sounded like a particularly nasty episode of flatulence. Really, I think the poor soul has irritable bowel syndrome.

Viv snickered. Well, on that note, I suppose I’d better run my laps.

I doubt anyone would notice if you didn’t, said Joreth.

Perhaps. But I’d know.

Aw, such a man of honour, my lord princely-duke, said Xax, fluttering his eyelashes.

Viv reached out his hand. Xax, glancing at Joreth first, and then back at Viv, cautiously held out his in return. Viv brought it to his lips. Xax nearly fainted for real.

Because that other gentleman scoffed your hand so rudely, my dear sir, please accept this as an apology on his behalf, said Viv. He winked and then began his run.

Xax could barely breathe.

How you doin’, buddy? asked Joreth, putting an arm around him.

Viv turned the corner, out of view.

Private Knightly sighed and inwardly vowed:

I am so going to raise babies with that man.

Chapter Two

Tiles and Thongs

He watched the first signs of the orange glow of dawn as the warm tones illuminated the windows of the barracks. The light was just enough to highlight the somnolent form across from where he lay. The amber beams danced along the scales of his comrade’s cheek, outlining his jaw, teasing the edge of his lips.

Xax sighed dreamily.

Viv turned over from his back to his side, facing Xax’s bunk. Something must have nudged the recruit from deep within, because Viv’s eyelids squinted and opened with just enough focus to see his comrade’s eyes close.

After what he felt should be a safe enough pause, Xax opened one eye.

Viv smiled and imitated him.

Private Knightly snickered into his pillow. Caught!

What are you doing up before we’re summoned awake? asked Viv.

Watching you and your beautifulness. I couldn’t sleep. Probably because I’m over here and you’re over there and we’re in two separate bunks, which must be against the natural order of things. Honestly, if not for ourselves but for the sake of science, we should be sharing the same bed. Because science. Science is important.

I slept like a rock, said Viv. Twenty-five laps when you’re out of condition can do that to a man.

You’re out of condition? Thank the Maker of the stars I know that now, so I can get used to you when you’re in top form. I’m sure by then I’ll not even notice you much. Maybe only 30 times daily instead of...how many minutes are there in a day again? Well, then it’s good you came to the Vacay in Hay exclusive spa for young adults. I hear their diet program is all slop till you drop—ten boulders of fat—from not wanting to eat the gunk they serve. You’ll be buff and tough in no time flat!

You’re funny. I like you.

I’ll be here all twelve weeks, folks! Don’t forget to purchase my video before you head to the lido deck!

Would you two shut up? groaned Joreth from the top bunk over Xax. You’re interrupting my wet dream.

Sorry, perv, said Xax. Shall I get you a warm towel?

Viv laughed loudly. Several other men moaned from being awakened before the beckoning. However, there hadn’t been time for further complaints as the Rooster Recruit—as they were called—sounded a horn blast that could easily rouse the dead.

The poor soul was only doing their job but still had to dodge the impact of a dozen or so pillows flung at their head. At least everyone was up in Barracks 15, so the Rooster fled the scene.

Up and at ’em, pond scum! shouted Sergeant Paxtoll.

You know, I’m finding all this abusive language a bit hurtful, muttered Xax. Can’t he try positive reinforcement? It might motivate me so much more.

The recruit thought he had been speaking quietly enough, but apparently the sarge had ears that could defy long-range sonic sensors.

Oh, Knightly? Sergeant Paxtoll sang. Come here, please?

Aw, crap, thought Xax, but did as ordered.

Yes, Sergeant?

The sarge clasped his hands and cocked his head with a look of utmost concern. You’re absolutely right, Private. I should use my words to encourage and not be so darned nasty. What was I thinking?

Xax gulped.

"But you, son, you’ve inspired me. I was about to get you all to only do five laps before breakfast, but you see, I feel positive that you’re all capable of so much more. In fact, I want you, Private Knightly, to be right up front in our hike."

That doesn’t sound too bad.

"In full combat gear and provision packs. Oops, well, would you look at that? It’s starting to pour. Ah, no matter, because I’m doubly positive you’ll get the job done. Sergeant Paxtoll put both hands on Xax’s shoulders. I believe in you, Knightly. You’re gonna do great!"

Xax’s torso caved.

GET DRESSED, NOW! OUT IN TWO! The sergeant left