Chapter 3 - THE PRICE OF FRIENDSHIPRYAN
I hate myself.
There.
I've finally admitted it.
I hate the way my stomach twists whenever Kayise smiles at me.
I hate the way she shares her food when I finish mine too quickly.
And I especially hate that she trusts me.
Because the truth is, I have been lying to her since the day we met.
I am sitting in the laundry room when my phone vibrates.
We aren't supposed to have personal phones during most of our training hours.
But the small device in my hand isn't mine.
It was given to me by a man who introduced himself as a student development coordinator.
The screen lights up.
PROGRESS REPORT REQUIRED.
I close my eyes.
Please.
Not today.
Another message arrives.
HAS MTHEMBU RECEIVED THE ACADEMIC OFFER?
I type:
Yes.
HER REACTION?
Confused. She hasn't accepted.
The reply comes almost immediately.
EXPECTED. THE NEXT PHASE BEGINS TOMORROW.
My throat tightens.
I type faster.
I want to stop.
For almost a minute, nothing happens.
Then:
YOUR FINANCIAL SUPPORT AGREEMENT REMAINS ACTIVE ONLY WHILE YOU PARTICIPATE.
I stare at the words.
My father has worked at the same mechanic shop for twenty-three years.
He is a good man.
A proud man.
The kind of man who would rather skip dinner than admit he couldn't afford groceries.
My mother has been receiving treatment for a serious kidney condition.
Some weeks she can work.
Other weeks she can barely leave the house.
And my younger brother, Sizwe, still needs school fees.
When the academy offered me a scholarship, I thought our problems were finally getting smaller.
Then the additional expenses arrived.
Transportation.
Uniform adjustments.
Required equipment.
Money for home.
I was drowning before training even started.
That was when Colonel Victor Venter approached me.
He didn't introduce himself as someone doing anything secret.
He said the academy had a research program that needed volunteer cadets to help evaluate classroom cooperation.
He said I would receive a private educational grant.
He said all I had to do was observe another cadet's communication habits and submit honest reports.
Nothing illegal.
Nothing harmful.
At least, that was what I believed.
Then he gave me a name.
Kayise Mthembu.
I didn't know who she was.
I didn't know her father was a Major General.
And I certainly didn't know I would end up liking her.
Not just liking her.
Loving her like the sister I never had.
Kayise can be stubborn.
She talks too much when she gets comfortable.
She has the irritating habit of solving problems before everyone else has even understood them.
But she is kind.
Not the kind of person who makes speeches about kindness.
The kind who notices when your hands are shaking and quietly gives you half her breakfast without embarrassing you.
Three days ago, she found me crying behind the dining hall.
I told her I was homesick.
She sat on the cold steps beside me.
She didn't ask questions.
She didn't tell me to be strong.
She just stayed.
And now these people want me to hurt her.
My phone vibrates again.
YOU SIGNED AN AGREEMENT, CADET DUBE.
I type:
I agreed to observations. Not manipulation.
The response makes my blood run cold.
YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR INSTRUCTIONS TOMORROW.
I switch off the phone.
For a long time, I sit with my head in my hands.
Then I hear footsteps.
"Ryan?"
Kayise.
Of course.
She finds me everywhere.
I shove the phone beneath a folded towel.
"Hey."
She steps into the laundry room.
"Are you hiding from me?"
I try to laugh.
"Maybe."
"Did I annoy you?"
That question nearly destroys me.
"No."
"You've been weird since yesterday."
"I'm tired."
She sits beside me.
"Did something happen at home?"
I shake my head.
She studies me.
"Ryan, you know you can tell me things, right?"
I look at her.
For one terrifying second, I almost confess.
I almost tell her about Colonel Venter.
The reports.
The money.
The phone.
Everything.
But then I remember my mother's exhausted face during our last hospital visit.
And the overdue notice sitting on my father's kitchen table.
So I smile.
"I'm okay."
Kayise doesn't look convinced.
But she nods.
"Good. Because if you're planning to become one of those mysterious people who never communicate, I need advance notice."
I laugh.
A real laugh this time.
She nudges my shoulder.
"Come on. We have dinner."
"I'll be there in a minute."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She leaves.
I wait until her footsteps disappear.
Then I pull out the phone.
There is another message.
CADET MTHEMBU HAS RECEIVED A WARNING. IDENTIFY THE SOURCE.
My entire body goes cold.
A warning?
What warning?
I had assumed the people running this operation controlled every part of it.
Apparently, someone else is watching too.
I stare at the message.
Then I do something reckless.
I type:
What happens if she refuses the next test?
The response appears.
THAT DEPENDS ON HOW MUCH SHE VALUES YOU.
I stop breathing.
Another message arrives.
TOMORROW'S FIELD EXERCISE WILL ESTABLISH HER PRIORITIES. YOU WILL PLAY THE INJURED CADET.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
A final message follows.
IF SHE CHOOSES YOU, SHE FAILS. IF SHE LEAVES YOU, SHE PASSES.
I feel sick.
Because I know Kayise.
I know the kind of person she is.
And I know exactly what she will choose.
The following morning, our unit assembles near the obstacle course.
Captain Ndlovu explains that we are conducting a simulated rescue under time pressure.
Groups of four will move through a marked route.
Each group must retrieve a secured case containing emergency communications equipment.
Along the way, unexpected complications may occur.
We are reminded that the exercise is controlled and that instructors are observing.
I am assigned to Kayise's group.
Of course I am.
Sebastian joins us as our navigator.
He is tall, quiet, and annoyingly observant.
He looks at the route map.
"Something feels off."
Kayise turns toward him.
"What?"
"Too many observers for a basic exercise."
I glance toward the instructor's tower.
Colonel Venter stands beside a man with copper-colored hair.
Ralph.
I recognize him from the office where I signed the agreement.
He is watching us.
I look away.
The exercise begins.
We move quickly.
For several minutes, everything goes according to plan.
Then we reach a narrow crossing.
This is my moment.
I have been instructed to fall, clutch my ankle, and tell Kayise I cannot continue.
I hate every second.
But I do it.
"Ah!"
I drop onto the ground.
Kayise stops immediately.
"Ryan?"
"My ankle."
She kneels.
"What happened?"
"I twisted it."
She looks toward Sebastian.
"Call the instructor."
I grab her arm.
"No. The case. You have to finish."
She studies my face.
The expression in her eyes changes.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Recognition.
As though she has noticed something I hoped she would miss.
"Ryan," she says quietly, "look at me."
I do.
"Can you stand?"
I hesitate.
"Not without help."
She nods.
Then she makes her decision.
"Sebastian, take the case and continue. I'll stay with her until medical staff arrive."
A whistle blows.
Captain Ndlovu approaches.
"CADET MTHEMBU!"
Kayise rises.
"Ma'am!"
"You abandoned your assigned task."
"I arranged for another team member to continue."
"Your responsibility was to complete the mission."
"My teammate reported an injury."
"This is a simulation!"
"Yes, ma'am. But I wasn't told her injury was simulated."
For a moment, Captain Ndlovu says nothing.
Then she looks toward the observation tower.
Colonel Venter raises one hand.
"Mark the decision."
My stomach drops.
Kayise follows his gaze.
Her eyes land on Ralph.
He is not watching me.
He is watching her.
Captain Ndlovu turns back.
"Your team loses twenty points, Mthembu."
"Understood, ma'am."
Kayise doesn't argue.
She helps me stand when the medical assistant signals that the exercise has ended.
But as we walk away, she leans close enough that only I can hear her.
"Ryan?"
"Yeah?"
"Your ankle."
"What about it?"
She looks straight ahead.
"You forgot which one you were supposed to be holding."
I stop walking.
May you like
She doesn't.
And for the first time since I agreed to help Colonel Venter, I realize Kayise might already know that I am lying.
