Free Old Man's War Boxed Set 1 by John Scalzi

on your test.”
    “I’ve been waiting sixty years to raise my math score,” Harry said. “Let’s see how I do now.”
     
    Our second assessment was even worse.
    “Please follow the white square. Use only your eyes, not your head.” The Colonial dimmed the lights in the room. Sixty pairs of eyes focused on a white square on the wall. Slowly, it began to move.
    “I can’t believe I went into space for this,” Harry said.
    “Maybe things will pick up,” I said. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get another white square to look at.”
    A second white square appeared on the wall.
    “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Harry said.
     
    Later, Harry and I separated, and I had some activities of my own.
    The first room I was in featured a Colonial and a pile of blocks.
    “Make a house out of these, please,” the Colonial said.
    “Only if I get an extra juice box,” I said.
    “I’ll see what I can do,” the Colonial promised. I made a house out of the blocks and then went into the next room, where the Colonial in there pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen.
    “Starting from the middle of the maze, try to see if you can get to the outer edge.”
    “Jesus Christ,” I said, “a drug-addled rat could do this.”
    “Let’s hope so,” the Colonial said. “Still, let’s see you do it anyway.”
    I did. In the next room, the Colonial there wanted me to call out the numbers and letters. I learned to stop wondering why and just do what they told me.
     
    A little later in the afternoon, I got pissed off.
    “I’ve been reading your file,” said the Colonial, a thin young man who looked like a strong wind would sail him off like a kite.
    “Okay,” I said.
    “It says you were married.”
    “I was.”
    “Did you like it? Being married.”
    “Sure. It beats the alternative.”
    He smirked. “So what happened? Divorce? Fuck around one time too many?”
    Whatever obnoxiously amusing qualities this guy had were fading fast. “She’s dead,” I said.
    “Yeah? How did that happen?”
    “She had a stroke.”
    “Gotta love a stroke,” he said. “Bam, your brain’s skull pudding, just like that. Good that she didn’t survive. She’d be this fat, bedridden turnip, you know. You’d just have to feed her through a straw or something.” He made slurping noises.
    I didn’t say anything. Part of my brain was figuring how quickly I could move to snap his neck, but most of me was just sitting there in blind shock and rage. I simply could not believe what I was hearing.
    Down in some deep part of my brain, someone was telling me to start breathing again soon, or I was going to pass out.
    The Colonial’s PDA suddenly beeped. “Okay,” he said, and stood up quickly. “We’re done. Mr. Perry, please allow me to apologize for the comments I made regarding your wife’s death. My job here is to generate an enraged response from the recruit as quickly as possible. Our psychological models showed that you would respond most negatively to comments like the ones I have just made. Please understand that on a personal level I would never make such comments about your late wife.”
    I blinked stupidly for a few seconds at the man. Then I roared at him. “What kind of sick, fucked-up test was THAT?!?”
    “I agree it is an extremely unpleasant test, and once again I apologize. I am doing my job as ordered, nothing more.”
    “Holy Christ!” I said. “Do you have any idea how close I came to breaking your fucking neck?”
    “In fact, I do,” the man said in a calm, controlled voice that indicated that, in fact, he did. “My PDA, which was tracking your mental state, beeped right before you were about to pop. But even if it hadn’t I would have known. I do this all the time. I know what to expect.”
    I was still trying to come down from my rage. “You do this thing with every recruit?” I asked. “How are you even still alive? ”
    “I understand that question,” the man said. “I was in fact chosen for