Wheat From The Chaff
Author: Mark Renney
The V-Training has always been controversial, even more so now, some forty years since it was first introduced. The ground offensive has been obsolete for decades and wars are waged from afar, controlled by the kind of people who first designed the V-Scapes, the war torn and ravaged world in which the recruits are forced to spend so much time.
The protestors argue that the training is barbaric and draconian and has become simply a badge of honour. The Factor Rite’s argument hasn’t changed, although they are always careful with the language they use. They declare the training is necessary because they have to be sure all soldiers are able to cope with whatever the world might throw at them.
The V-Scapes, they insist, are closely monitored and controlled and all recruits are able to exit at any given time. Factor Rite argues that it isn’t real but of course the trauma is; not just for those who fail and are forced back out into the very real world with their very real trauma, but also for those who pass, the soldiers with their demons festering, their trauma bottled and stored, saving it for later, for another day.
Recruit 857 had been shocked by how grotty and rundown the Holo- Suite was. The paint, behind the consoles lined up against the walls, was yellowed and stained. The cheap wooden desks were scuffed and scratched, cables snaking across the floor, in all directions, searching for available connections points. He had been forced to step carefully between them as he made his way toward a headset that had lost its lustre and sheen.
But getting back there, to that grubby and dimly lit room, was all that mattered to Recruit 857 now. His hand hovered over the exit button, aware of course that the training time varied from recruit to recruit. But it was always at least a month and often as long as two. Could he last another hour, another day, another week, another month?
Recruit 857 had already seen so much, so many dead; citizens, comrades and the enemy, although he was no longer able to differentiate between them, and he wondered if this was a good or bad thing. Was it possible that this was what they wanted, what they needed from him?

The Past
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