Daniel Schwartz - Starship Troopers, chapter 3
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Blue. My name is Daniel Schwartz, and I'll be reading Chapter three from Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers. Chapter three. He shall rule them with a rod of iron revelations to 25 hided basic at Camp Arthur Curry on the northern prairies, along with a couple 1000 other victims. And I do mean camp as the only permanent buildings. There were two shelter equipment. We slept in eight intense. We lived outdoors. If you call that living, which I didn't at the time, I was used to a warm climate. It seemed to me that the North Pole was just five miles north of camp and getting closer. Ice age returning, no doubt. But exercise will keep you warm, and they saw to it that we got plenty of that. The first morning we were there, they woke us up Before daybreak. I had had trouble adjusting to the change in time zones, and it seemed to me that I just got to sleep. I couldn't believe that anyone seriously intended I should get up in the middle of the night, but they did mean it. A speaker somewhere was blaring out of military march, fit to wake the dead on a Harry nuisance would come charging down the company street, yelling Everybody out! Show a leg! On the bounce came a rotting back again, just as I had pulled the covers over my head, tipped over my cot and dumped me on the cold, hard ground. It was an impersonal attention. He didn't even wait to see if I hit. 10 minutes later, dressed in trousers, undershirt and shoes, I was lined up with the others in ragged ranks for setting up exercises. Just is the some looked over the eastern horizon. Facing us was a big, broad shouldered, mean looking man dressed just as we were accepted. While I looked and felt like a poor job of embalming. His chin was shaved, blew. His trousers were sharply creased. You could have used his shoes for mirrors and his manner was alert. Wide awake, relaxed and rested. You got the impression that he never needed to sleep. Just 10,000 mile checkups and Dustin off Occasionally, he billowed, Come and shut. I am career ships. Sergeant Zim, your company commander. When you speak to me, you will salute and say, sir, you will salute. And sir anyone who carries an instructor's baton. He was carrying a swagger cane and now made a quick, reversible unit with it to show what he meant by an instructor's baton. I hadn't noticed men carrying them when we had arrived the night before and intended to get one myself. They look smart now. I changed my mind because we don't have enough officers around here for you to practice on. You'll practice on us. Who sneezed? No answer. Oh, Snow East. I did a voice answered. I did what? I sneezed, sir. I sneeze, sir. I'm cold, sir. Hello? Zim Strode up to the man who it sneezed, showed the fa rule of the swagger, cane an inch under his nose and demanded name Jenkins. Sir Jenkins. Sin repeated as if the word was somehow distasteful. Even shameful. I suppose I'm not on patrol. You're gonna sneeze just because you got a runny nose? I hope not, sir. So I But you're cold. We'll fix that. He pointed with a stick. See that armory over there? I looked and could see nothing but prairie. Except for one building that seem to be almost on the skyline. Fallout run around. It run. They said fast. Bronski pays him right, Sarge, one of the five or six other baton carriers took out after Jenkins caught up with him, easily cracked him across the tight of his pants with a baton. Zim turned back to the rest of us, still shivering at attention. He walked up and down, looked us over and seemed awfully unhappy at last. He stepped out in front of us, shook his head and said, apparently to himself. But he had a voice that carried to think this had to happen to May, he looked at us. You apes. No, not apes. You don't read that much, you pitiful mob of sickly monkeys, you sunken chested, slack belly drooling refugees from apron strings. And all my whole life I never saw such a disgraceful huddle of mama spoiled little darlings that you're their second. The gut eyes front. I'm talking to you. I pulled in my belly, even though I was not sure he had addressed me. He went on and on, I begin to forget my goose flesh and hearing him storm. He never once repeated himself, and he never used either profanity or obscenity. I learned later that he saved those for very special occasions, which this wasn't. But he described our shortcomings physical, mental, moral and genetic in great and insulting detail. But somehow I was not insulted. I became greatly interested in studying his command of language. I wish we'd had him on our debate team. At last, he stopped and seemed about to cry. I can't stand it, he said bitterly. I just gotta work some of it off. I had a better set of warden soldiers when I was six. Alright. Is there anyone you Jungle likes who thinks he can whip me? Is there a man in this crowd? Speak up. There was a short silenced, which I contributed. I didn't have any doubt at all that he could whip me. I was convinced. I heard a voice far down the line. The Tall and Rick and Arkin. So Zim looked happy. Good. Step out here where we can see you. Their crude did so and he was impressive at least three inches taller than Sergeant Zim and broader across the shoulders. What's your name, soldier? Breckenridge, sir. And our way. £210 their eight, any of it slack bellied. Any particular way you'd like to fight, so you just pick your own method of diet. I'm not fussy, okay? No rules start whenever you like. Him tossed his baton aside. It started and it was over. The big recruit was sitting on the ground holding his left wrist in his right hand. He didn't say anything. Zim bent over him. Broken. I reckon it might be so. I'm sorry. You hurried me a little. You know where the dispensary is? Never mind. Jones. Take Breckinridge over to dispensary as they left him, slap him on the right shoulder and said quietly, Let's try it again. In a month or so, I'll show you what happened. I think it was meant to be a private remark, but they were standing about six feet in front of where I was slowly freezing solid step back and called out. Okay, we got one man in this company. At least I feel better. Do you have another one? We have two more. Any two of you scrupulous toads Think you can stand up to me? He looked back and forth. A loner ranks chicken livered, spying. This Oh, yes. Step out. Two men who had been side by side and rank stepped out together. I suppose they had arranged in whispers right there. But they also were far down the tall end. So I didn't hear him, smiled at them names for your next of kin. Please, Highness Heinrich. What? How I know. Except beating. He spoke rapidly to the other recruit and add up lately, it doesn't speak much. Stand of English itself. My German have second man supplied. That's OK. Lots of don't speak much of it when they get here. I didn't myself tell Mayer not to worry. He'll pick it up. But understand that we're going to do yobbo Agreed. Meyer Certainly, sir. He understands standard. He just can't speak it fluently. All right. Where did you to pick up those face scars? Heidelberg nine. No, sir. Good. Expect the same thing. Zimet picked up his baton after fighting Breckenridge. He twirled it and asked. Perhaps you would each like to borrow one of these? It would not be fair to you, sir. Hinrich answered carefully. Bare hands, if you please suit yourself that I might fool you. Connick's very *** rules. How can there be rules? Sir? The three an interesting point. Well, let's agree that fives air gouged out. They must be handed back when it's over. And tell your corpse, Bruder, that I'm ready now. Start when you like. Zim tossed his baton away. Someone caught it. Your jokes are We will not gouge ice. No eye gouging! Agreed. Fire. When ready, Gridley, Police go on and fight. We'll get back in ranks now. I'm not sure that I saw it happen this way. I may have learned part of it later in training, but here's what I think happened. The two moved out on each side, our company commander, until they had him completely flanked but well out of contact from this position. There's a choice of four basic moves for the man Working alone moves to take advantage of his own mobility and of the superior coordination of one man is compared with two sergeants. Him says correctly, that any group is weaker than a man alone, unless they're perfectly trained to work together. For example, Zim could have fainted at one of them, bounced fast to the other one with a disabled such as a broken kneecap, and then finished off the first of his leisure. Instead, he let them attack. Meyer came at him fast, intending to body check and knock him to the ground. I think while Hinrich would follow through from above, maybe with his boots, that's the way it appeared to start. And here's what I think I saw. Meyer never reached in with that body check sergeants in world to face him while kicking out and getting Heinrich in the belly. And then Mayer was sailing through the air. His lunch helped, along with a hearty assist from Zim. But all I'm sure of is that the fight started. And then there were two German boys sleeping peacefully, almost end to end, one face down and one face up. And Sam was standing over them, not even breathing hard. Jones, he said. No. Jones left, didn't he? Mahmud, Let's have the water bucket and stick them back in their sockets. He's got my toothpick. A few moments later, the two were conscious, wet and back in ranks. Look at us, inquire gently. Anybody else should get onto the setting up exercises. I didn't expect anybody else, and I doubt if he did. But from down on the left rank where the shorties hung out. A boy stepped out of ranks came in front and center. Sim looked down at him. Just you. Do you want to pick a partner? Just myself, sir. As you say. Name should you. Me, sir. Same sized widened. Any relation to Colonel should do me. I have the honor to be his son, sir. Eso well, black belt. No, sir, not yet. I'm glad you qualified that well, Should you? Me? Are we gonna use contest rules? Shall we send for the ambulance? As you wish, sir. But I think if I may be permitted an opinion that contest rules would be more prudent. I don't know just how you mean that, but I agree. Tim tossed his badge of authority aside and then so help me. They backed off, face each other and bowed. After that, we circle around each other in 1/2 crouch, making tentative passes with her hands and looking like a couple of roosters. Suddenly they touched on. The little chap was down on the ground and Sergeant Jim was flying through the air over his head but didn't land with the dull, breath paralyzing thud that Mayer had He lit, rolling and was on his feet, its fastest to Jew me and was facing him Buns! I Zim yelled and grinned. Allegretto! Should! Jimmy answered and grinned back. They touched again, almost without a pause. And I thought the sergeant was going to fly again. He didn't. He slithered straight in. There is a confusion of arms and legs. And when motion slowed down you could see that Zim was talking. She Jimmy's left foot in his right year A poor fit should do me slap the ground with a free hand. Zim let him up it once again, bound to each other. Another fall, sir. Sorry, We got work to do some other time for fun and honor. Perhaps they should have told you. Your honorable father trained me, so I had already surmised her. Another time it is. Zim slapped him ******* the shoulder. Back in rank! Soldier! Coming A than for 20 minutes. We went through calisthenics that left in his dripping hot as I had been shivering cold Zim let it himself doing it all with us and shouting the count he hadn't been must that I could see he wasn't breathing hard as we finished. He never led the exercises. After that morning, we never saw him again before breakfast rank half its privileges. But he did that morning and when was over and we were all bushed. He let us that a truck to the mess tent, shouting at us the whole way to step it up on the bounce. You dragging your tails? We always trotted everywhere. Camp Arthur Curry. I never did find out who curry waas, but I want to be a track man. Breckinridge is already in the mess tent with a cast on his wrist, but thumb and fingers showing, I heard him say no, just a green stick fracture. I played a whole quarter with worse, but you wait. I'll fix him. I had my doubts. Should do me, maybe, but not that big ape. He simply didn't know when he was outclassed. I dislike Zim from the first moment I laid eyes on him, but he had style. Breakfast was all right. All the meals were all right. There's none of that nonsense. Some boarding schools haven't making your life miserable at the table. If you wanted to slump down and shovel it in with both hands. Nobody bothered you, which was good, as meals were practically the only time somebody wasn't riding you. The many for breakfast wasn't anything like what I've been used to at home. And the civilians that waited on a slap the food around in a fashion that would have made mother grow pale and leave for her room. But it was hot and it's plentiful, and the cooking was okay. If plane I ate about four times what I normally do and wash it down with mug after mug of coffee with cream and lots of sugar, I would have eaten a shark without stopping to skin him. Jenkins showed up with Corporal Bronski behind him as their starting on seconds. They stopped for a moment of the table. Reason was eating alone than Jenkins slumped onto a vacant stool by mine. He looked mighty CD, pale, exhausted and his breath rasping. I said, Here, let me pour you some coffee. He shook his head. You better eat, insisted some scrambled eggs. Still go down easily. Can eat. Oh, that 30. 30. So and so he began cussing out Zim in a low, almost expressionless monotone. All I ask him was to let me go lie down and skipped breakfast. Bronski wouldn't let me. Said they had to see the company commander. So I did. And I told him I was sick. I told him he just felt my cheek encounter. Might Paulson told me Sick call was at nine o'clock. Wouldn't let me go back to my tent. Oh, that rat. I'll catch him on a dark night. I will. I spooned some bags out for him anyway, and poured coffee presently began to eat. Sergeant Zim got up to leave while most of us were still eating and stopped by our table. Jenkins? Yes, sir. At 0 900 Muster for sick call and see the doctor Jenkins draw Muscles twitched. He answered slowly. I don't need any pills, sir. I'll get by. 0 900 That's an order. He left Jenkins, start his monotonous chant again. Finally slowed down, took a bite of eggs and said someone more loudly. I can't help wondering what kind of a mother produced that. I just like to have a look at her, That's all. Did he ever have a mother? It was a rhetorical question, but it got answered at the head of our table several stools away was one of the instructor corporals had finished eating and with smoking and picking his teeth simultaneously, he evidently had been listening. Jenkins, It sure don't you know about sergeants. Well, I'm learning they don't have mothers. Just ask any trained private he believes smoke towards us. They reproduce by fission, just like all bacteria.