The Expatriate-the story of a Prodigy

15. The Endurance Tests

Alex Mars let himself be led into the generals' office-for the first time. And it was quite impressive.
It had a tiny library with books such as The History of the U.S. or Martial Arts Skills, then 2 massive desks with numerous chairs, and a whole big collection of weapons, gleaming and old, on one side of the wall. One big window showed the forest and the training space for the newbies.
Hale pointed to a seat at the side, then sighing, rigidly sat on one himslef at the end. He didn't smile at Mars at all and his fists were clenched.
"Explain yourself," The man's voice boomed in the room after seconds of silence.
Alex almost wanted to laugh his ass off-maybe the general had taken that out from a movie dialogue, and he unfortunately seemed like an unlikely man to do that...but Alex knew better than to giggle in the man's face, and his face was very smooth when he opened his lips.
"Excuse me?"
Alex Mars just wanted process and willed the agony of death to be short to follow in the near future and end quickly, and even as he said his words, he knew that the two-word dialogue contest was going to consume a long time.
"Mars. In your test, you were told to be honest, for I can see all your fears. So be honest," "So what's this about?" Mars asked, fingers grasping his knee under the massive table. The general smirked.
"Fawkes seemed to be trying to hide your inactivity from me, but I found out-and I knew that you won't be able to last long as his second-in-hand. I was trained to suspect the best of all in the army, Mars. And you are holding that position among the newbies. And here, it adds up. Record time in running and strengths, successful training in record time, extensive knowledge and fast learning, and now, John Tim just said you just stare at books in the same position all day! I don't know if Fawkes that fucking bastard told you the same thing as we were trained some decades ago, but the army isn't a hotel!" Hale yelped, body already risen half out of his seat, eyes bulging. His hand was already at the pistol at his side.
Alex Mars just watched, uninterested. Yup, go on, the faster you get heated, the faster you'll explode and end my life. I obviously can't kill my self, so help me by doing your part...
Silence, pause.
But the general didn't shoot.
"Say that you're a Prod," The man breathed out.
Ah, the moment and highlight of my life! Every person inside Alex's head breathed back mentally. Alex felt as if he was going crazy or was fainting-but all the while, realized that he was content with how things had come up just now.
Hey, Andrew, watch, he thought, and all the voices in his head nodded, if you know it is possible, and hissed with 'yes'es.
He took in a deep breathe, and Hale watched, tensed.
"I am a Prodigy," Alex declared.
As the word "Prodigy" finally left his mouth in 'public', Alex Mars though that this was the coolest moment in his life yet.

Unfortunately for Alex Mars, who was confident that he deserved death right away and was out of his mind, he wasn't killed there and then.
He was instead thrown into the cell that Andrew had taken up only 2 weeks ago.
He started to realize new stuff-for instance, he realized what it was really to be literally thrown into a room.
Rubbing his aching back and limbs from the massive fall onto the cement ground, he scrambled up to the tiny barred window that Andrew had been peering out. He finally saw what Andrew had been staring at when he had come in, and, with little surprise-the main view of the window was the pole at the center of the field. It now seemed to have dried blood on it, Andrew's, a bit. Alex flinched and shuddered.
He also realized now that what the convicted had been saying while working hadn't been a prayer, but a plead for liberty and hope. But he didn't want liberty and hope. He wanted nothing but death, and that was all. But still, he started to also murmur a certain, specific phrase over and over in his mouth, and for him, he was whispering an apology for letting the boy who had spent time in the exact same cell 2 weeks ago get killed on the stick that was plainly in sight through the window.
Night came, the stars came. The same stars he had seen that had caused him not to die. Well, sorry, but looks as if I'm going to die anyway, he whispered to them, and soon clouds blew over the dark, veiling the stars. Mars let his own eyelids veil his eyes and went into a strange state between sleep and alertness.