Ride The Rising Tide (The Maxwell Saga) Read Online Free Page B

your personnel file?” he asked briskly — almost suspiciously, Steve thought.
    “Sir, this recruit respectfully submits that his recruiter was provided with copies of all his qualifications, including karate. He doesn’t know why it’s not recorded in his file, Sir.”
    Robinson glanced at Shabab, and they shared a rueful nod. “It won’t be the first time there’s been a foul–up in the records. I’ll look into that. Meanwhile, Corporal, would you agree that we’ve found our unarmed combat team leader?”
    “Aye aye, Platoon Instructor!”
    Robinson transferred his attention back to Steve. “Recruit Maxwell, during the last week of Boot Camp, after Exercise Grindstone, all the training platoons compete against each other for the unarmed combat championship of this intake. There’s a team prize and an individual prize. Each platoon will enter six fighters. You’ve just been selected from a host of applicants to lead and help train our team.”
    “Sir, aye aye, Sir!”
    “ One more thing, recruit. As of right now, you’re an assistant instructor during the platoon’s unarmed combat classes. The instructor will demonstrate each evolution on you, so you’ll get your lumps before everyone else in the platoon!” Laughter from the other recruits. “You’ll perform each evolution with him until he’s satisfied you understand it. With your background, that should take no time at all. Thereafter you’ll assist him in teaching it to the rest of the platoon.”
    “ Sir, aye aye, Sir!”
    “ Carry on, Corporal.”
    “ Aye aye, Platoon Instructor! Recruit Maxwell, stand fast. The rest of you, pay attention while this recruit and I demonstrate a few basic blocks. You’ll use them to stop an opponent’s blow from reaching you. Watch closely!”
    ~ ~ ~
    The platoon filed down a long counter, each recruit pressing his thumb on a reader to certify receipt of a bead carbine, a power pack and a cleaning kit. Corporal Shabab marched them to a row of tables beneath a canopy, facing a berm on the firing range. He spaced them out, checking to ensure that tins of solvent stood ready, one between every two recruits, then climbed onto a raised platform.
    “ Awright, listen up!” He gestured to half–a–dozen grinning Marine privates standing to one side. “These Marines will assist me in supervising you as you clean your carbines for the first time. You address them as ‘Sir’ and obey their orders, just as you do mine! You’ve all taken the hypno–study class on how to disassemble and clean a carbine, so get to work. Keep your muzzles pointed in a safe direction at all times! If you point your carbine at anyone else, you WILL suffer for it! If you get stuck, raise your hand and wait for one of us to help you.”
    Steve removed the power pack, and confirmed that there was no magazine in the well and no round in the chamber. He unlatched the dust–cover and laid it to one side, then tried to slide the electromagnetic firing mechanism from its socket; but it wouldn’t budge. He angled the carbine to and fro, peering at the mechanism, trying to figure out what was wrong, but could see nothing obviously out of place. Finally, reluctantly, he raised his hand.
    It took some time for a Marine to reach him, as they were all busy with other trainees. At last one of them came over. “All right, recruit, what’s the problem?”
    “ Sir, this recruit is unable to remove the firing mechanism from its socket, Sir.”
    “ Let me see.” The Marine took the carbine, examined it intently, and nodded. “Whoever last cleaned this carbine didn’t get all the solvent off the rails before adding dry lube. The solvent congealed the powdered lubricant into a sort of glue. Some of it leaked into the socket, and it’s holding the mechanism in place. Look here. You can see traces of it at the edge of the socket.”
    Steve looked closely. “Sir, yes, Sir. How is this recruit to remove the mechanism from the gun, Sir?”
    “WHAT