and for one glorious second they merged into one being, joined together in mindless, wonderful animal bliss.
CHAPTER
Eleven
W HEN HE awoke again she was gone. The place in the bed by his side was still warm but her body was gone. She had run from him
in fear. Women were like that sometimes when they felt they had enjoyed themselves too much the night before. The superego
reasserted itself over the inner animal passions. But the animal would rise again. The superego would be hurled aside, and
she would come again.
He felt almost one hundred percent. The poison had run its course through his body, making love with Elizabeth had restored
him, had recharged his body. That’s why a man needs a woman—to replenish his battery with power. There is nothing like it.
Nothing. Who could say how or why. But touching her, being inside her, had healed him. The perfumes of a woman’s body were
more medicinal than all the sterile bottles science had to offer. Even his hand, which he lifted and looked at, was losing
its ghastly black-and-purplecolor and returning to a reddish pink. The swelling had subsided completely. He still had a little trouble bending it, but
it worked.
He had scarcely had time to dwell on sweet musings of the night before when there was a loud knocking on the door. A barrel-chested
sergeant with clipboard and drill instructor’s hat barged into his room. He had a face like a squashed pumpkin—like something
that had been stepped on a few too many times—and huge cauliflower ears with what appeared to be worm holes embroidering their
edges.
“Training has begun. Report to the parade field in five minutes. And please don’t be late,” the man screamed with a mock sarcasm
of politeness. Stone stared after the sergeant as he pulled the door shut hard and stomped out, waking half the patients in
the place. Before he knew it he found himself up and dressing. He hadn’t even decided what the hell he was going to do. But
his curiosity was aroused. In a way he wondered just what the training was like. Besides, there was a lot about this whole
operation that confused him no end. There was nothing he could put his finger on but something was wrong somewhere. Or was
it just his fucking cynical core that found it so hard to believe that all these guys were for real, that he had found the
kind of people he had been searching for. Stone couldn’t even tell anymore; his intuitive distant early warning system seemed
to have blown a fuse.
He headed out of the building and walked down the main asphalt road that led through the center of Fort Bradley. Stone made
his way over to the twenty-five recruits who stood in slightly uneven lines facing a pole that held the flag of the NAA, crossed
M-16’s over the stars and stripes, this one a good six by seven feet in dimensions and hand-stitched with vivid red and blue
and white—and a silver metallic sheen for the rifles. It whipped loosely around in the breeze,about thirty feet above their heads. Stone got into one of the back rows. A few hours of calisthenics would be good, he thought
to himself. Stretch him out. Get things shook up in there a little.
The drill sergeant waited impatiently, looking at his watch and then his clipboard. At last two more men came running down
the street pulling on their jackets and settled into place.
“Now, gentlemen, you are about to make the magical transformation from idiot into fighting soldier. We don’t go about training
the usual way here. Instead we have what we call the make-it-or-break-it method. This is, gentlemen, for the next two days
you are going to be pushed until every cell in your body is ready to explode; you will run and fight and climb and build until
you think your feet are going to turn to porridge and your legs to rubber bands. But still you’re going to go on, because
I’ll be right behind you, ready to kick you in the ass should you slow down. But mostly
CHAPTER
Eleven
W HEN HE awoke again she was gone. The place in the bed by his side was still warm but her body was gone. She had run from him
in fear. Women were like that sometimes when they felt they had enjoyed themselves too much the night before. The superego
reasserted itself over the inner animal passions. But the animal would rise again. The superego would be hurled aside, and
she would come again.
He felt almost one hundred percent. The poison had run its course through his body, making love with Elizabeth had restored
him, had recharged his body. That’s why a man needs a woman—to replenish his battery with power. There is nothing like it.
Nothing. Who could say how or why. But touching her, being inside her, had healed him. The perfumes of a woman’s body were
more medicinal than all the sterile bottles science had to offer. Even his hand, which he lifted and looked at, was losing
its ghastly black-and-purplecolor and returning to a reddish pink. The swelling had subsided completely. He still had a little trouble bending it, but
it worked.
He had scarcely had time to dwell on sweet musings of the night before when there was a loud knocking on the door. A barrel-chested
sergeant with clipboard and drill instructor’s hat barged into his room. He had a face like a squashed pumpkin—like something
that had been stepped on a few too many times—and huge cauliflower ears with what appeared to be worm holes embroidering their
edges.
“Training has begun. Report to the parade field in five minutes. And please don’t be late,” the man screamed with a mock sarcasm
of politeness. Stone stared after the sergeant as he pulled the door shut hard and stomped out, waking half the patients in
the place. Before he knew it he found himself up and dressing. He hadn’t even decided what the hell he was going to do. But
his curiosity was aroused. In a way he wondered just what the training was like. Besides, there was a lot about this whole
operation that confused him no end. There was nothing he could put his finger on but something was wrong somewhere. Or was
it just his fucking cynical core that found it so hard to believe that all these guys were for real, that he had found the
kind of people he had been searching for. Stone couldn’t even tell anymore; his intuitive distant early warning system seemed
to have blown a fuse.
He headed out of the building and walked down the main asphalt road that led through the center of Fort Bradley. Stone made
his way over to the twenty-five recruits who stood in slightly uneven lines facing a pole that held the flag of the NAA, crossed
M-16’s over the stars and stripes, this one a good six by seven feet in dimensions and hand-stitched with vivid red and blue
and white—and a silver metallic sheen for the rifles. It whipped loosely around in the breeze,about thirty feet above their heads. Stone got into one of the back rows. A few hours of calisthenics would be good, he thought
to himself. Stretch him out. Get things shook up in there a little.
The drill sergeant waited impatiently, looking at his watch and then his clipboard. At last two more men came running down
the street pulling on their jackets and settled into place.
“Now, gentlemen, you are about to make the magical transformation from idiot into fighting soldier. We don’t go about training
the usual way here. Instead we have what we call the make-it-or-break-it method. This is, gentlemen, for the next two days
you are going to be pushed until every cell in your body is ready to explode; you will run and fight and climb and build until
you think your feet are going to turn to porridge and your legs to rubber bands. But still you’re going to go on, because
I’ll be right behind you, ready to kick you in the ass should you slow down. But mostly
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