Free The High Ground by Melinda Snodgrass Page A

quarters he’d look after himself.
    * * *
    It hadn’t been a restful night. The bed was too narrow and Mercedes constantly woke to find that her foot was hanging off the edge and exposed to the cold air. She was also intensely aware of the other girls sleeping all around her. As the hours crawled past she discovered that Cipriana snored and Sumiko talked in her sleep. Mercedes hoped
she
didn’t have any embarrassing sleeping habits.
    Their quarters were clearly an awkward retro-fit. The walls between what had probably been individual rooms had been removed to leave a large ungraceful space with closets bulging like growths into the room and toilets and showers exposed. All four beds were set in a star pattern and only two of them were placed where the overhead reading lights could provide illumination. Between the beds and the desks the space felt cramped and unwieldy.
    Mercedes wondered why the rooms had been twisted and deformed in this way, and then the answer hit her with blinding clarity—the administration was worried that if the women had private rooms they might find ways to slip boys into those rooms and into those beds and sex might occur. Instead the women were forced to live and sleep cheek by jowl to act as duennas for each other.
    According to their class schedules physical training occupied the first two hours of the morning. As their maids—batBEMs—fussed and flitted about assisting them to undress after the banquet, Mercedes had inspected her gym attire. Once again it was a split skirt but not as long as the skirt for the dress uniform or her undress blues. The workout skirt ended mid-calf, a singularly unattractive length. There was a bulky tunic to be worn on top that hung to mid-thigh and would effectively hide her figure. Mercedes suspected the abundance of material was going to interfere with movement.
    The four Hajin BatBEMs appeared a few minutes after reveille had sounded and started the water in the showers running. Mercedes slid out of the bunk and headed to a toilet. Pulling up her nightgown she sat down on the metal seat and felt her bladder tighten.
    Cipriana apparently didn’t suffer from embarrassment over having to urinate in front of other people. Her pee tinkled loudly into the metal bowl but even with that encouragement Mercedes couldn’t relax and relieve herself. Her servant, Tako, sensed her discomfort and positioned herself in front of the opening. Mercedes sighed and finally let go.
    A quick shower was followed by all of them standing in front of the mirrors and quickly applying makeup while their hair was brushed and braided by the servants. The chrono set into the sleeve of Mercedes’ tunic showed that twelve minutes had elapsed.
    Sucking in a deep, steadying breath Mercedes faced her ladies. She wondered if her expression was as trepidatious as theirs.
    “Well, all right. This is it then.
Touch the sky with glory
,” she added though she felt silly intoning the motto.
    She turned on her heel, the rubber of her gym shoe squeaking on the hard composite floor, and led them toward the door. Behind her someone giggled. She didn’t look back to find out who.
    * * *
    Tracy entered the mess hall and found that of the first-year cadets only he and the ladies had arrived. Tracy was startled to see Mercedes.
The Infanta
, he mentally made the correction. He had no idea what a noble lady’s life was like, but he doubted early mornings played any part in it. She was looking at him, and a sharp frown furrowed the pale chocolate skin between those sweeping brows. Apparently he’d allowed his surprise to show on his face.
    He ducked his head and hustled to his table near the kitchen doors. He was relieved to see only a knife, fork and spoon instead of the array of flatware that had daunted him the night before. He had tried to surreptitiously watch his dinner companions, but he knew he and the other scholarship student, a young man from Nueva Terra named Mark Wilson, had made mistakes