secret-project/Cutting_room_floor.md

The Difference Between an Idiot and a Moron

The Cutting Room Floor

Adir opened his eyes to the same dull, leaden brain fog he's so used to
by now. The room was pitch black, except for the small ray of light
coursing through the broken window blind, crushed by many musty
mattresses.

He could tell exactly what time it was by the amount of revulsion he was
already feeling. Reluctantly, He started peeling himself off the
mattress so he could sneak off to a scalding cup of Mud Coffee and go
die on a smelly beanbag somewhere.

He had just finished donning the pajamas when Eitan stepped into the
room.

'Good morning', he said neutrally but not unkindly as he made his way to
the router room out back. He was walking too fast for a stay-and-chat,
but slow enough to be viable for a response, which he could accept but
did not expect.

'Good morning', the Gerbil bluntly tossed back while lacing the
perverted boots.

'Everything okay?' Eitan addressed the Gerbil's general vicinity from
the router room. 'Mmmhm', he replied, thus completing the ritual. With
the bare minimum achieved, Eitan took a router somewhere and stepped
through the side door outside, bombing the tall, dark room with blinding
morning light.

He was, by far, the Gerbil's favorite of the commanders -- little talk,
no expectations, no comments. Had the rest had been like this things
would have been considerably easier.

The Gerbil was already striding through the dark server room towards the
(aptly named, he mused) restroom for his usual* embarrassing medical
issue* when one of the many pointless IP phones in the great hall rang.
He picked up and said nothing because he still thinks it's really funny.

'Hi,' said Mike Tavor cheerily across the line. 'What's up? Who is it?'

'Me', he replied.

'What's up, Adir? Could you maybe help us with a little something, you
know, when you've got some time?' Hope swelled in Adir's heart, and he
hated himself for it.

'I'll try,' he said. 'What is it?'

'Oh, well, I was going to call David about it, sure glad you picked up
--' he chuckled nervously - \`The Trainer is acting up again. I think
it's the, um, DVI RAM co-board multi-caster, or -'

'Say no more, Tavor', the Gerbil said professionally, 'I'm coming
straight away'.

'Well, it's not running today so if you'd prefer to come later, I-'

'Don't you worry about it' he assured him. 'Be there in a minute', he
hung up.

Considering how there's no such thing as a 'DVI RAM co-board
multi-caster', he'll just swing by and kick the bloody thing so it
works. He could fart dust that computes faster. Ignorant old dinosaurs.

And now he has to go outside. Yuck.

The Gerbil irritably squished his beard to a somewhat presentable shape
and muscled through the side door into the scorching hell outside. Too
bright, too hot, and people. Oof, the people. The smoking area's musty
ash smell wafted in with the hot salty sea wind to create what was now
engraved in his sorry psyche as the aroma of despair and stupid.

He strode towards the squadron as the jobnics were already pouring in
with their little backpacks and single Airpods talking enthusiastically
to their friends about the* crazy* party* *last night, praying to no one
in particular that none of* them *show up. None of the bastards did --
likely too busy parking and shaving and whatever it is they do - and he
stepped into the first squadron's soothing, people free inner courtyard
and towards the Trainer's door, where Tavor awaited him next to the
phone shelf.

'Hey man', he said, 'Thanks for swinging by!'. He quickly surveyed him
and frowned. 'You look pretty tired'.

'It's okay', Adir answered, despite the fact it was not, in fact, okay.

'Do you want a Mud Coffee, maybe? Was just making one for myself'.

Sitting down for Mud Coffee with a pilot was every self respecting Air
Force soldier's* dream*, man, but the Gerbil had an appointment with a
smelly beanbag, and he meant to honor it. It was his highest duty as a
jobnic, a rebel, and an irritable ass. Even though they have those nice,
tall coffee glasses here\...

'No, thank you -- you're very kind. I can take it from here -- I'll let
you know what's up'.

'Sure. Thanks dude!'

Tavor took his phone from the phone shelf and strode away with purpose.

Adir kind of liked Mike Tavor. He still treats him as human.

He casually hid his phone in his pajama pockets (with a loud*
ccccrrrrk!* from the scotch pockets), entered the code on the numpad and
stepped inside. He didn't need the phone -- in fact, it was a hindrance
-- but it was a matter of principle, like most other matters in the
Gerbil's life right now. This is his domain and he answers to none.

The Trainer room was blessedly dark -- even the blinds into the
courtyard were shut. The only light was the big digital clock, filling
the room an eerie red glow indicating he has a few precious peaceful
moments before the instructors arrive.

He entered the small side room and did the whole usual nonsense --
flipped only some of the switches in that specific order, closed the
hatch, put the AC on the thingy, made the three beeps, waited for the*
Vrrrrruuuhhhhh!* to start up and the* Hhhhhuuurrrrrv* that died down*
*and crouched his way back to the main room, where the eight big screens
slowly lit up and started complaining.* *

*You and me both*, he thought. Both stupid old things.

The thing took a good ten minutes to power on, of course -- sixty
seconds of booting up, and five hundred and forty seconds of him staring
at it. He then clicked on the thing and waited for it to start up --
thirty seconds of starting the program and three hundred seconds of
staring at it. Add about thirty scattered seconds of taking out his
phone, checking the time, sighing grumpily and putting it back with a*
ccccrrrrk! *Because he still could, dammit. Just as he pressed the
gamepad (they paid millions for this! how?!) to confirm the thing works,
today's two instructors walked in.

'Oh, hi! Didn't see you there', said the first. He thought she was nice
because she never made for the light until he was gone, and it was those
small gestures that kept him going at this point, really.

'Hi Adir', said the other a bit too friendly. She was the first's
commander, and she clearly thought the darkness was kind of weird but
still respected it. He thought *she* was a bit *too nice* because of
that time she called Ronen to tell him what a great job he did (which he
did not -- it was a matter of principle), which got him an *hour* stuck
with all the commanders in the room so he can detail exactly what he
did. What a nightmare. He was still okay with her because it's just not
her fault -- the poor soul could never know, they're all nice here.

'Good morning,' he replied casually. 'Just finished, uh, checking it.
Looks all clear. You can give it a test too if you'd like'. The
commander sometimes calls Ronen or David for errors as well, despite him
clearly declaring he'll handle it, which he never ever did out of
principle, so he may just get it out of the way.

'It's okay! I'm sure its fine, we never have problem with it when you
power it up', the nice instructor said. '\...Why *did* you power it up,
though? It's not in use today'.

He stared dazed and confused into her beautiful green eyes. It had
suddenly occurred to him that this is still going on, and he is
partaking in it. He found this all very strange.

'To check,', he replied. 'If anyone asks you'll mention me, right? have
an awesome day', he added to the confused silence. With the bare minimum
achieved, he left.

When he was a safe distance away on his Evasive Maneuver, he checked his
phone, which of course showed eight missed calls in a span of two
minutes. Slow day.

He also got a message. It was safe to check. The commanders never text
him after calling, because it implies a lack of urgency and an
acceptance of him being unavailable which just won't do.

'Where'd you go', wrote Gilad.

'Trainer', he replied.

'What do I say', wrote Gilad.

'Big trainer trouble', he replied. 'And then Operations'.

Operations was great because there were no phones there, and everyone
always says he was there because he replaces their printer ink on time.
He replaces their printer ink on time so he can say it ran out, and
devoutly go replace it seven more times alternating between Job Field's
many luxurious avenues.

'Why do they ask me?' Gilad complained yet again. 'It's annoying'.

'Just say you don't know then'.

'They keep crying. Crying, crying. I have a headache.'

'You know what helps headaches' Adir wrote, hoping there was some truth
in it to ease his own.

'Fine, fine. Give me fifteen minutes. They're checking shoes'. He really
conveyed his contempt through the text somehow. The animals.

There are very few people Adir was willing to delay Mud Coffee for.
Gilad was one of them.

If he shows his face there now to make it, though, he'll be interrogated
on all the Trainer's troubles, and why they took so little time to fix
-- as he had long since established the Trainer could not be kicked for
any less than three hours. So he continued his route to its next
destination -- the grass behind the Igloo.

The Igloo is the most pointless structure on the earth, aside from the
Old City behind Computing. It has large windows overlooking absolutely
nothing, fancy marble floors, a big dome and walls made of acoustic
retardant for no reason whatsoever. It stood empty 99% of the time,
except when it was used for the safety lectures. He sold himself on the
idea he always shows up to those because someone has to tear up that
acoustic retardant bit by bit. God, they're lucky to have him.

The Igloo is so pointless, in fact, no one bothers approaching it -- and
even if you did stumble there on the way wherever, it's just not worth
looking at. The Gerbil himself occasional gets lost on his way there,
because he passes it by and fails to notice. Throw in the fact it's this
side of the airstrip too and you got the ultimate safe haven.

He crashed down on the grass and took out his phone to another
*crrrrrrk*. The phone, of course, was ringing casually with its twenty
second call this morning. He let it go on because he likes the ringtone
-- from the videogame *Doom* -- and because the vibration felt nice.

He put the phone to his chest and looked up at the clear blue skies. He
closed his eyes and felt the pleasant warmth seeping into the dark
pajama and heavy dark boots.

Maybe it's not so bad.

He got another message.

'Will take time,' Gilad said. 'You won't like this'.

'What.'

'Drill.'

'No.'

'Yup.'

The air sirens blared up immediately. He heard some of the miserable
planes taking off. His phone started hanging from all the phone calls,
from various sources, which kindly sent each other to hold.

Perverted Boots were thumping around, none glancing at him. Maybe it's
because of his weirdly squashed beard.

Adir lay on the grass, his head pounding in the deafening noise, with
tears of frustration welling in his eyes.

Chapter I -- Go Home, Kid

Adir sat almost motionless in the great hall.

There was something strange about this room -- it felt as if it was
yanked straight out of the 1950's, much like all the places he's been in
today. Here and there he saw shreds of the modern world -- it was lit
with cold, white light bulbs and all the benches were fancy, incredibly
uncomfortable stainless steel. Despite this, all four hundred or so of
the young people in the room sat perfectly upright, worried eyes
unmoving, gazing intently at nothing in particular.

'Strange day, huh?' someone echoed weakly from somewhere. Someone else
replied with a nervous chuckle, and their echoes feebly died out in the
great hall.

A small girl cautiously arose from her seat, and very slowly thread her
way between the cramped benches. No one bothered making way for her
between the duffel bags chaotically tossed on the floor.

'Excuse me,' she eventually said to the soldier standing at the end of
the room, near the doors. The soldier made no sign that she heard nor
cared, inspecting her nails.

'Um, uh...' the girl said. Her uniform was very ill fitting -- it was as
if she was wearing an old tent.

'Would you know, maybe, when are the buses due?'

The soldier did not even lift her head to answer -- she lazily looked up
at the girl.

'A sec.' she said. A sec had passed. Nothing happened.

'O..Ok' said the girl, and slowly thread her way back to her seat. This
whole process took around five minutes.

Behind him, some massive dude threaded past, plunked down at a certain
spot again and stared into the horizon like everyone else.

Adir was intensely uncomfortable. His shoulder hurt where the needle hit
earlier, when the guy he assumed was the medic tossed it across the room
into his shoulder, and these massive boots were so alien to him he
simply could not walk in them. His legs hurt from hours of waddling. The
boots' tab was sticking out again and he was completely and utterly
powerless to fix it. His shirt kept slipping out of his trousers because
he could not figure out how to close the belt, if it was one at all.

Earlier that day, he realized for the first time that he had no real
clue how soldiers look like. Sure, they have big black boots and wear
long, olive green clothes - and that's about as far as he got. The
family's eldest, he had never really seen a soldier up close before --
no one else got drafted yet, and it just didn't happen naturally, common
as they were. He was just entering that massive tin shed when a skinny
soldier rudely shoved him to a great wooden counter, where he stood limp
and confused until something else happened.

'What size?' spewed a voice from the other side.

'Huh?' he said.

A bored young soldier appeared behind the counter.

'What size?' he asked impatiently.

'What size what?' Adir replied. He had absolutely no clue as to what is
happening.

'How big are your feet?'

'My feet?'

'Yes. Those you walk with'.

'Oh'.

'Size?'

Adir was concerned, because he had very large feet. Over the last few
months he and his friends debated intently whether the army could
provide shoes big enough, because if they couldn't he could walk around
in sneakers. He couldn't remember who told him that but felt it was
true.

'I am concerned,' he said.

The soldier looked past him grumpily.

'Because I have very large feet'.

A fly could have slept on the guy's face. There was an awkward silence.

'I'm size 14,' he said. 'With width. Do you think mayb-'

The soldier *thumped* a pair of massive boots on the counter. There was
another awkward silence.

'Here. Those fit. If not, come back. I've up to 16's'.

Adir took a second to let that it. For a fragment of a second he saw
pity in the guy's sad, sad eyes.

He carefully took the boots. They were really heavy.

'Go home, kid', the guy told him, and sunk back down below the counter.

Adir had no idea what to do, again. Fortunately, a soldier swung by and
rudely shoved him towards a blue door.

He stumbled inside. There were many stalls. Another soldier stood in the
middle. Tall and skinny with pimples on his shaven face with an
expression of constant, mild misery. Adir thought the soldiers here all
look surprisingly alike.

'What size?' he asked.

'What size what?' Adir replied.

He gestured vaguely at Adir. 'What size?'

'Um, medium?'

'So B.' he said, clearly upset. He tossed two nylon squares at him,
which Adir gracefully missed. As soon as he had the slightest grip on
them he was rudely shoved him into a stall.

The squares turned out to be his new uniform -- a shirt, pants and
something he guessed was a belt. Everything had buttons and straps where
there should not be straps.

After some time someone pounded on the stall doors. 'Hurry up!' he
yelled.

Adir inspected himself, pleased. Yes, this is how soldiers look. He
stumbled outside.

'What the fuck,' said the skinny miserable soldier.

'Is this not right?' Adir asked. His shirt was hanging open and the
shoes fit weird. Shouldn't they have laces? He still thought it was
right because the others were dressed the same.

'Yea, whatever. Just. Go. They're waiting'. Adir didn't know who was
waiting or where to go, but he did anyway. He stepped outside and
straight into a middle aged man. His uniform was different -- it was
light blue -- and he had an air of authority around him. Adir made a
move to pass him but he did not budge.

Behind the man, the warehouse went silent. The man scanned him from head
to toe in a way that, to him, felt predatory, almost sexual. They locked
eyes. The man's cold expression was consumed by rage. For a moment,
there was no sound.

Adir deducted something was amiss using his superb emotional
intelligence.

'**WHO**', the man bellowed, '**IN THE *****FUCK, *****LET HIM OUT LIKE
THIS?!**'

In the background, people started scurrying. A hand reeled him back in
immediately. The soldier was on the verge of tears.

'You could have asked for help, man' he said pleadingly. 'You could have
asked for help!'

He yanked out Adir's belt and somehow slung it around. It was really
tight. 'I was supposed to go out this weekend', he intoned, somehow
lacing the monstrous boots with laces he pulled out somewhere. He then
yanked some part of the boot and sent a flash of pain through Adir's
leg.

'God dammit', he muttered and shoved him outside straight into the man
again.

He stared him down from head to toe again, breathing heavily, and barely
made way.

Adir had later learned that was the commander of the recruitment unit,
whatever that means. He was not surprised because he's so clever.

Adir was pulled out of his trance processing these odd events by a short
soldier who replaced the one who stood there earlier.

'FOUR HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO!' she bellowed at an unbelievable volume.

No one answered.

'WAKE THE FUCK UP! THIS ISN'T KINDERGARTEN! I SAID -- FOUR HUNDRED AND
SIXTY TWO!'.

Silently, a great ox of a guy rose from the back of the room. He
hesitantly took up his duffel bag and threaded the hall. His stance was
of a small, shamed child.

'MAKE WAY!' screamed another soldier no one had seen before. People
cowered before the guy.

He dashed beyond the doors of the hall.

'EIGHTEEN!' the small soldier yelled again. A tall blonde girl ran
maniacally to the doors and burst through.

This mad ritual went on for almost two hours when the soldier shouted,
'TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN!'

Adir vaguely recalled *he* was two hundred and sixteen. He could not
figure out how were his life dependent on it. This had been a strange
day.

He got up and made his way down the hall.

'MOOOOVE!' the other soldier screeched at him, veins popping on his
neck. Adir found this odd, as they both stood at the door already. He
was too tired to dwell on it. He opened the heavy door behind the
soldier.

Waddling outside to a bright early afternoon sun, squinting in
confusion, he could see a man walking up to him. He had a green uniform,
but it was clean and well ironed, and thus Adir wisely came to the
conclusion that he was an officer.

The officer approached Adir. He had kind eyes and smiled widely.

'Ah, hello! Adir, isn't it?'.

'Yeah,' Adir answered nonchalantly.

'Hello Adir,' the kind officer said. 'Let's see, now, *your* bus is that
way -- see, the red one with the grey stripe?'

'I see it,' he replied. 'Say, you wouldn't know where its' going, is
it?'. Smooth as silk.

'Oh, of course. That bus is for the Instruction Base City. You'll go
through boot camp there.'

Score! INBA city soldiers have touchscreen in the shower and waffles for
dinner. He couldn't remember who told him that but he felt it was true.
'The bus will leave in a few minutes. Why don't you go show yourself
nearby, and you'll get moving soon? I'm sure you've had a long day'.

'It's alright,' he said. 'Thanks'.

Around the bus were gathered several other people. All guys, he noticed.
'Sweet, huh? INBA CITY!' one of the others shouted at him. 'WOOP WOOP!'

The others around him burst with 'Yeah!-'s and 'Brooooo!'-s and resumed
smoking their cigarettes.

'Yeah', he said, now confused. 'You guys into computers?'

'No, man', said one. 'That's some boring ass shit!'

INBA city was where people drafted into his role -- Computer Systems
Infrastructure Managers -- go through boot camp. This means that either:

1\) These people are headed to INBA city, the most luxurious base in the
force, or

2\) This bus isn't going to INBA city.

It's probably just a logistics thing. Adir was certain things will work
out.

Chapter VI \[Unordered\] -- Getting helped

Adir warily made his way deeper and deeper into the base. He had not
been here in months, and felt a strong mixture of emotions he had
trouble deciphering.

Right now, he did not have the liberty to dwell on it. He knew that if
he faltered, if he breaks face, the tight reins will snap right off, and
he'll do something he'll regret.

His appointment was at 11:30 -- about as late as possible if he is to
make it to his lesson afterwards. Today was biology, scheduled for
Genetic Engineering -- he could not bear to miss it, long as he's
awaited it. For months and months he's been waiting on a response from
the military, and how like them, he thought bitterly, to break radio
silence at the most inconvenient time.

He could not tell them that, of course, since his studies are illegal by
martial law. Whatever ills he may have committed - this was
unforgivable. This set him on the warpath.

He made a small attempt at fixing his scruffy beard -- still an
unfamiliar motion, and at this situation it seemed unreal. He had
forgotten how *smooth* everyone was, heads and face shaven for the men
and long, carefully gathered ponytails for the women. He had forgotten
how hot and uncomfortable the uniform was, to the point he had wondered
whether by design, how heavy and clumsy the boots.

He arrived hot, sweating, uneasy, extremely self conscious, and worst of
all -- very early.

Adir hated it here - a raw, seething hatred. He had done his very best
to arrive just in time, and leave as soon as possible -- but now he had
a full forty-five minutes to spend before he can slowly muster the
courage to make his appointment.

He could go down to the pit, of course, and see his old coursemates
again. He wanted to, but was afraid of what he will find -- and afraid
of what they will see. Will they see a determined student, fighting
against all odds to follow his dream, or a depressed wreck trying
desperately to save himself?

So he revisited his habit from the worst of his days and sat outside on
the disgusting benches aside the construction site, where he could stay
in the shade and covertly watch everyone go by. Even the worst of
slackers could not go out for a smoke this time of the day, so he should
have some peace. He did not have to reclaim his phone and that was a
difference he found great solace in.

And just as luck would have it, a few general workers quickly scurried
past and rolled out a red carpet.

This can't be good.

The first sergeant showed up not long after, trailed by a swarm of fresh
officers and P.F.C's from public relations, and his glanced went to Adir
like a starved hound.

As much as he would have enjoyed making the smug bastard work for it,
Adir did not have the capacity to deal with this today. He got up and
started heading off in a random direction, but he was too slow and by
that point he was within earshot.

'Oh, no no no no', the sergeant piped smugly at him. "I want to hear
this. Don't you move another step'.

Torn by his desire to flip the guy off and roll into a ball and cry,
Adir casually leaned on one of the wooden pillars conveniently nearby.

He could soon feels the man's piping hot breath on his face. So that's
how it's going to be.

'Stand up straight while you're talking to me'.

So he did.

'And look at me when I'm talking to you!'

'You don't have to yell. I can quite clearly hear you'.

'Now just what do you think you're doing here?'

'I'm obviously missing something. Is there a reason I should not be?'

'You're joking'

'I'm completely serious. Please, tell me'

'Have you not checked you email in the last three months?'

'I have not.'

That set him back. 'First I'm hearing about a headquarters soldier with
no access to a computer, but okay. Surely, one of your commanders have
told you'.

Adir did not mentally prepare for this, and he was desperate to escape
the situation.

'No,' he said.

'Who is your commander?'

'I... don't know.'

The sergeant was dumbstruck by the honesty in Adir's voice, and was
suddenly compassionate.

'Kid, how long have you been here?'

'I'd really rather not talk about it. Look, whatever it is, I don't want
to know. I'll just scram.'

'I've asked you a question'.

A few of the officers were curiously listening from the back, surprised
the exchange is taking so long.

'Since September'

'You're telling me', he said, furious, 'You've been here since
*September *and you don't know your commander, soldier?'

'Let me go somewhere in peace.'

'What do you mean somewhere? Do you have no place to go?'

Adir lost his patience. 'Gee, thanks for rubbing it in. Yea, I have no
place to go. No one in this rathole gives a damn fuck about where I am
or what I do. And you know what? It's none of your damn business. You
told me to leave -- I'm leaving, and that's all there is to it. You can
go ahead and report me, too -- if you find out who's supposed to take
care of it, please -- let me know. I sure have no stinking idea'.

'That's how it is? Alright then. I'll teach you how to behave and we'll
find your commander just dandy. What's your name?'

'Fuck off and good luck', Adir tossed back and left. The rest were too
stunned to do anything.

Great. That killed off a good ten minutes. And now he'd lost his temper.

\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\--

By the time he'd found the place in the maze of floors, corridors,
offices and unhelpful secretaries, Adir had composed himself again. Just
in time, he rapped the door gently.

A tall middle aged woman opened the door. She was tall, fairly handsome,
and had a soft, comforting air around her.

'Hi! Good to have you here. Your name?'

'I am Adir. I have the 11:30 appointment'

'Ah, yes. Adir! I've been waiting quite a while to see you. Please, wait
here for a bit and I'll be with you shortly'.

'OK'.

'Alright. Should not be long'.

He sat down in the austere waiting room. It had the same dull cream
color like everywhere in the towers. It was cramped, and some attempt at
making it comforting had clearly taken place, making it all the more
disheartening. Since he can't actually have his phone here, he was stuck
in silence with the pretty but cool assistant, who stared at him
shamelessly like some peculiar beast.

"Adir? Would you come in please?"

Adir's trance had broken, and he wordlessly stepped inside. The room was
much brighter, and very minimal -- a simple wooden desk, and to its
corner a chair against the wall, and nothing else.

Behind the desk was a massive window overlooking the entryway, now with
a rolling red carpet and lots of soldiers in clean, ironed and
immaculate uniforms standing motionless. The sight hurt him, and he
could not say why.

The woman sat down behind the desk.

'Hello, Adir. I am Dr. Tamar Hussberg, and I've been the mental health
officer here for more than fifteen years. I understand you have been
asking for help for quite some time, and I just want to ask some
questions and see where we stand. Is that okay?'

Adir shrugged and gave a feeble nod, not daring to do much else.

'Please, sit down. No need to be so dense. This is unofficial business.
Everything here is completely confidential.'

He did not realize he had been standing in the middle of the room. He
slowly made for the small chair and sat down, back to the wall and
facing Dr. Tamar and the entryway below.

'Adir, tell me about your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

'A younger brother and a younger sister.'

'Do any of them serve in the army'

'No. My brother is 13, and my sister 17'.

'I see. Does your sister has a drafting date?'

'I... don't know', it occurred to him. How could he be so selfish? And
with her drafting, no less!

'What do your parents do?'

'My father is a physicist. My mother is a lawyer.'

'Living together?'

'Yes, thankfully'

'Where do they work?'

'Dad works for the ministry of defense. Mom works at a private firm'

'Very nice. Good home', Tamar said, smiling warmly.

Adir could not help but smirk as well. 'Yes, it is. Things are good'.

'Many young men come here with issues they bring from home. I suppose
you feel this is not the case here?'

'No, not at all'

'That's great. How long have you been in the army?'

Adir had to take a moment to recall. Tamar noticed this and frowned.

'Funny, soldiers usually spit it out down to the hour. When did you
draft?'

'December 2016'

'Then that puts you... about halfway, doesn't it?'

He had to take a moment to let it in. 'Yes,' he said tensely.

The halfway point -- *Touching the wall* as people call it. Adir had no
idea it had been so long.

'Quite unusual for soldiers to come up here so late into their service.
Especially outside of combat. Did you finish highschool?'

'Yes'

'Good grades?'

'Great grades'

'Hard study?'

'Not terribly. I liked what I did'

'What did you major in?'

'Biotechnology'

'Sounds fascinating'

'It is. I can think of nothing more amazing'

'Your role in the army... I've had it written down somewhere. Something
to do with computers?'

'The course is called 'Computing systems infastructure management'

'Sound big.'

'I wouldn't know'

'That's quite far off from Biotech. How did you get into it?'

'I never did. That's what I was offered, and I took it'.

'Doesn't sound like they'd offer it to just anyone.'

'I was screened beforehand. Did okay, but nothing spectacular'.

'The recruiters thought otherwise'

'I suppose'

'So, Adir - you come from a good home. You had a good education in a
field you're passionate about. You have a prestigious role in the
military, and you're halfway through your service, stationed in air
force headquarters, widely considered the best station in the military.

I don't recall seeing anyone with a similar background here lately at
all. What is it that's been weighting you down?'

Adir thought about all his old coursemates and how they withered, how
they hunkered down and became less and less responsive each day. He
wondered if Tamar was lying, or if they were all too cowardly to get
help. Tamar was friendly and with a docile smile, but he could not help
but feel this was a crackdown, an assault. He chalked it down to
paranoia.

'I am depressed', Adir said . 'I've realized it a few months ago, but I
am depressed. I've been depressed since the moment I got drafted, and
it's getting unbearable. I don't know where else to turn.'

'Why now?'

'It's not now. I've been asking for help since December.'

'Seems highly unlikely -- response time is two weeks. Sure, things get
delayed -- this is a big base -- but not that delayed.

But never mind that. Adir -- I don't think you're in a state to
self-diagnose. Depression is a mental disease, and is very different
from what healthy people exhibit, even in difficult times. Why would you
say you're depressed?'

'Depressed, down, sad, whatever you name it. I.. I don't know. What I do
know is I just can't keep up. I have trouble sleeping. I feel sick and
weak. I have trouble getting myself out of bed in the morning, and
sometimes I... I don't. I have trouble talking to people -- I hadn't
spoken to anyone in my squad in forever. I don't know what else to do.'

'Adir, I understand you're facing difficulties. The military is a harsh,
unforgiving place. People are moved from their homes, their lives, to
something strange unfamiliar, and note everyone copes well -- and that's
okay. I think we can start a gradual treatment, and see how we can ease
things up for you."

Adir sat silent, contemplating.

"I can offer, say -- once a month?'

The bastards. He fucking knew in. He fucking knew they can't pull
through!

'Look, Tamar -- do you want to know why I'm *really* here?'

'We can discuss it next time, Adir'

'I still have time. It's been, what -- fifteen minutes? I've been
waiting almost seven months. I'm asking you to listen'

'Go ahead'

'I am here because... I am a defector. I have not set foot here since
January, and no one has bothered to do anything about it, because no one
cares.

I am here because I have been taking drastic measures to save my mental
health.

I am a strong person. I am a fighter. And I've been battling *this* --
whatever it's called -- for almost a year and a half now.

And I'm here because, for the first time - I feel like I'm losing. Every
day gets harder, and I have to find some respite. I *have* to. Next
month will not do. I need help -- real help. And if you can't
provide...'.

Tamar frowned in concetration.

'Since January... That makes it five months. That's the longest I've
ever heard of.'

'That's why it took so long. Because I have no commander. Because nobody
cares about me.'

'Do you not report in every morning?'

'Hell, I couldn't even if I'd wanted to. Half the squad switched out
already. The new commanders have never set eyes on me and my access card
has expired a good four months ago.'

'But you should be arrested! Had you no contact with MP's?'

'None", he chuckled bitterly. "That's the beauty of being invisible,
isn't it?'

Tamar broke the drawn out silence.

'Adir, I find this highly unlikely.'

'I know you do. I do as well. But take a *good look *at me -- do you
think I had that beard approved? Can you see I bear no rank? Please, be
my guest -- let's go down to the pit right now and see if anyone
recognizes me at all.'

'How did this happen?'

'Quite simple, really. I got worse. No one wanted to deal with it. So
they threw me out.

This is my third stationing, with another rejecting me from the
beginning. They see I'm having trouble so they kick me out. Here, they
made quite the spectacle of it too.'

'What do you do to pass the time?'

'I took up my sanity into my own hands. Around late December, I realized
help isn't coming.

So just before lunch, I got up and left for the campus nearby. Ten
minute bus ride.

I went to see a university advisor. They said they have a prep opening
the following week for the March semester.

I signed up, and I've been going every day since. I do something I like
again.'

'\...For a full degree?'

'For a full degree. If the military doesn't give a shit about my time, I
may as well do something with it.'

Tamar took a deep sigh.

'So what do you want?'

'It's too late for me. No one wants me here.'

'*So what do you want?*'

'What do you mean, what do I want? Aren't you supposed to help,
somehow?'

'I need a goal from you.'

'Once a month won't do.'

'*So what do you want?'*

Adir took a deep breath.

'I want out.'

Tamar gracefully got up, and handed Adir a small, colorful pamphlet.

'These are mental diseases. Depression, Bi-polar syndrome. Mania,
Schizophrenia and friends.

Take a good long read, and see if anything fits.

It won't.'

Adir looked up, shocked.

'Pick one, or get out.'

He got out.