The God Complex: The Book Of Alan, Destroyer Of Worlds

Chapter Thirteen

He was then photographed, asked various questions about his physical and mental health, given a new ID pass and wristband, a green jumpsuit, a pair of boots and a class number: 135. Then told to wait for that number to be called. He took a moment to compose himself and repress that scared eleven-year-old Gabe desperate to save his brother, desperate to escape. He wasn't that boy anymore, that boy died ten years ago. This Gabe was more than qualified to be the pilot of the YAMA Pharmaceutical. Whoever the Training Commander was, Gabe knew all he had to do was show he knew more than those around him.

When eventually his number was called, he made his way into a small, hastily built classroom and took a chair with six other people - three girls and three boys. Thankfully there was someone he recognised. In the corner of the room and the focal point for all three girls sat Monkey, it was definitely him, he sat legs wide apart in jeans, a polo shirt and doc martin boots. Just a normal guy looking normal, occasionally smoothing out his beard, but in a normal way, nothing you'd class as sexy or erotic, but the three girls in that room couldn't take their eyes off him.

Gabe just couldn't wrap his head around it, clearly some sort of black magic was at work. He sat and observed him for a few minutes casually going about his life, oblivious to the attention he was getting. One of the girls actually licked her lips as she looked at him, Gabe had only ever seen that in bad films or good porn, never in real life. It was baffling.

A stern looking woman in a dark grey suit marched into the room, placed her leather bag by the desk and faced the new recruits.

'Welcome to EDEN. You are here because you are an employee of YAMA Pharmaceuticals and have chosen to train for a position on the flight deck. We are here because the Supreme Leader of the New World: President Abaddon has graciously committed all resources necessary to allow you that opportunity - use it wisely. Soon you will be allocated a training commander who will oversee your training and will determine your suitability for each role aboard the flight to come. The training commander's word is final and cannot be contested, is that clear?'

Class 135 weakly chorused their acknowledgement of her terms.

'Good, here is how it's going to work. You will have two weeks allotted to each core competency: Engineering; Maintenance; Navigation; Weaponry; and Piloting. Each two-week burst will be an intense attack on your senses. The training facility will start at nine am and finish at nine pm, there will be no weekends. The first week of each competency will be theory so you will have manuals to learn and tests to complete, the second week will be all about the Simulator. That wristband you're wearing is your access to the Simulator, if you lose it, you're out, if you break it, you're out. Any questions?'

Rose, the coconut girl nervously raised her hand.

'Yes?'

'Excuse me, is it true that no matter how badly we perform on these tests, the company will still take us and find us a job?'

'That is entirely accurate. This process is to find the one percent of you capable of taking the burden off the EDEN military personnel who would otherwise have to take on this role. It is this company's expectation that none of you will be suitable, but because of the generosity of President Abaddon we are willing to commit three months-worth of training to find out. So, for those of you who don't make the grade you will be given necessary jobs within the shuttle. Any further questions?'

Silence.

'Very well,' she said reaching into the drawer and landing seven weighty manuals onto the desk, 'your first two weeks will be engineering. For the idiots among you, that's learning how to fix the craft when you blow the thrusters on take-off. So, take a manual and start reading, you have each been given a jumpsuit and boots, I suggest you put them on now. Your designated Training Commander will be along shortly and doesn't take kindly to insubordination.'