Command track, private bunks for each of us and it’s literally us walking in through this archway and we see not cots but like these crafted cubicles that are open with no roof to them but like a four foot privacy wall and there are other cadets there hanging out.
Well hanging out or waiting.
There’s more people watching, even coming over to watch as we’re getting assigned and taking our bunks by the numbers.
I hear them say hushedly. “The Apollo.”
And I can feel eyes on me.
Not just us but on me.
And people whispering. “It’s her.”
Oh dammit.
People know who I am?