Free The Ninth: Invasion by Benjamin Schramm Page B

me, is there anything you don’t like?”  Dante asked with a chuckle.  “So far the list is up to betting, stories, games, nicknames, and tormenting girls.”
    “Good question.  I’ll have to think about that for a while.”
    “Is that Ronald sitting outside our barracks?” Sanderson asked.
    Ronald was resting against the wall of the barracks, his shirt completely soaked.
    “Did Tyra do that to you?” Cain asked.
    “Don’t get cute,” Ronald said, fanning himself.  “It’s boiling in there.”
    “Please tell me this is your idea of a joke,” Cain said with a moan.
    “Sorry, my jokes don’t go higher than simmer.  Full boil is beyond me.”
    “So what are we supposed to do now?” Humphrey asked, dropping Doug.
    “As I see it, we have two options.”  Sanderson paused as he surveyed the grounds.  “Either we bake until we reach a golden brown, or we camp out here.”
    Entering the barracks, Brent confirmed Ronald’s story.  It was hotter inside than their soup had been at dinner.  Mr. Springate rushed in behind Brent and quickly ran to his bunk.  The other troopers entered and quickly started packing up in preparation for their camp out.
    “I can’t believe this.  This is down right inhuman,” Mr. Springate said as he pounded the wall next to this bunk.
    A load creaking groan startled the troopers.  Dust fell from the roof, as the sound grew louder.  They all gasped as they watched the wall behind Mr. Sneaky start to tilt outward.  With a tremendous thump the wall crashed to the ground.  A burst of wind entered the remains of the structure.  The chilly breeze mixed with the overactive heating unit to create a surprisingly comfortable temperature.
    “I don’t even want to ask,” Ronald said as he entered through where the wall had previously been standing.
    The troopers settled in for the night, the dim moonlight providing a constant soft illumination on the rooftops, blending them seamlessly into the night sky.  As Brent drifted off to sleep, he wondered exactly how the academy planned to continue the troopers’ training on a planet in such poor repair.
     
     
     
    Brent was awakened not by the familiar three tones of the academy, but by a harsh beam of light focused directly on his eyelids.  As he sat up he realized the configuration of rooftops that had seemed so beautiful the night before created a sort of sun block that cast the barracks in shadow as the sun rose.  All the other bunks were still in that shadow; his bunk alone was covered in morning light.  In the distance, Brent found the culprit, a single break in the rows of rooftops.  As he got out of bed, he stretched silently.  Judging from the slow crawl of the growing light, it would be a while before anyone else was woken up.
    He walked over the remains of the wall they had knocked down.  Rust caked the torn edges.  The wall had planned on falling over of its own accord; Mr. Springate had simply sped up the process.  The large courtyard was completely empty.  The gentle cool breeze of early morning was his only companion.  Normally, Brent would head to the stalls, but he doubted he’d be able to find them on his own – assuming this world even had such things.  The last thing he wanted was to get lost this early in the morning.  Casually, he walked around the parameter of the compound.  The dirt underfoot was well trampled; thousands of footprints pointed in every direction.
    The large home of the Governor and his wife was completely out of place.  It was as if someone had taken a plot from another planet and dropped it in the center of the town.  Everything from its architecture to its color was a stark contrast to the other nearby buildings.  The other structures were short and box-like with brown and red walls.  The Governor’s residence on the other hand was made of long smooth edges, giving it an organic feel.  Its walls were a gleaming silver green color that glinted in the morning light.  It