Time Corps 2

Colonel continues, "ok, what you should know about the current world. Hasn't been any real wars for centuries. But always, just below the surface, various ethnic tensions simmer. Two things keep people in line. Peacekeeping, we can land 100,000 troops anywhere on the planet withing 48 hours - a real deterrent. And history TV, let people see how it really was, the mud and misery of war. So, that said, we desperately need your help. Willing to at least take the exam?"
"All right then."

Our first two months at the Academy we are virtual prisoners, not allowed off base for any reason. Does not bother me, I realize almost every military organization in history did the same. But it does tick a lot of the others.
There is an official explanation. See the pumped look of the Col is all the rage - men and women - not all are able to achieve it naturally, some use steroids. So with the amount of roid rage there, even a trip to a coffee house can be dangerous to the unitiated. And that's not to mention all the drugs - legal and illegal - which might combine with the steroids.
Our first two months is devoted to English instruction. Let me clarify that. There are a dozen women in our class - all from somewhere in English-speaking history. But our dialects are as archaic as Chaucer was to high school students back home.
We each have a room, in our separate wing, and there is a common room. In this, I learn as much or more as in class. For starters, my classmates, uffff. I have never seen such a prickly collection of egotists, zealots, neurotics, smart asses and perverts. Surely if the authorities went back in time, they could have done better than that.
One time I ask the English teacher about this privately.
She just laughs, "what did you expect? Look you already know how the time distortion works. When on a mission, only one year passes here, yet ten years pass on site. Physically you age one year, yet it is ten years of life experience. Now I ask you, who else would you send on such a lone ten-year mission? Quote quote normal people would not be able to handle it. Besides, you are as bad as the rest, in fact worse."
I gasp, "I am?"
"Come on now, stand back from that sweet little innocent front and let's take a good look at you. Ever heard the term 'Schadenfreude'?"
"No."
"It's a concept in German, no English equivalent word exists. Now take a real sadist, loves to actually inflict suffering on others. But you, why you'd never do that, not with that sweet Girl Guidesque manner. But a person with 'Schadenfreude' loves to be an observer. Gets her jollies out of seeing a mega-screwed up bureaucracy, or fire or auto accident or someone break something. Tell me, does all this sound familiar?"
I don't reply, but my red-hot blush does.
"Child, nothing to be ashamed of. All the history crowd is into it. Why else do you suppose they went into history in the first place? But you, natural talent. You could cover things like the Black Plagues, Holocaust, Soviet purges. Rest of these girls just garden-variety Schadenfreude, you got the genuine article."
Ouch! For me, it's the end of the age of innocence, having to be honest with myself or at least start to. I think back to the cramming, the term papers, the thesis. Was it all for that? That makes me a pretty bad person. Still, to be honest, she is correct. How'd she know? Probably takes one to know one.

As I enter the common room, Heidi, the blonde bombshell German-American, says sarcastically, "well, lookee here, but if it ain't Saint Indira. You know Saint Indira, it's your turn now. Resta these girls have talked bout sex, but not a peep from you. So tell us, what is the kinkiest thing you've done? Screwed with a donkey? Blown a horse? Flogged a guy with a cat-of-nine-tails on a Saint Andrews cross?"
I blush hotly, don't reply.
"Well hot stuff, I've hit a nerve. Seems our token sand nigger has never done anything in bed."
I blush even hotter.
"True, isn't it?"
I nod.
"You listen up, lotta experts here, give you ideas."
Betty Lou, with her Southern accent, chips in, "oh shut up, you have no concept how it works. Grow up in a mega-repressed household, you come out one of two extremes: total prude or super wild. No such thing as happy medium. Just how East Indians are."
I nod.
Betty Lou continues, "lemme guess, so prudish, so uptight, did not even find out about periods until it was happening."
I twist a smile, "I can assure you, I'm not the only Indian girl taken by complete surprise. Does have a way of staining clothes."
This sets them laughing, I can tell by the tone they have let me off the hook.
Betty Lou, bless her heart, changes the topic, "so Indira, you are far more history knowledgeable than the rest of us. Your take as to why we get so much disdain from the staffers here, I mean except for teacher."
"Think Roman Empire during the decline. Could not recruit sufficient Roman citizens anymore. Mega hiring binge of foreign mercenaries. Trouble is, each and every merc is a reminder they are not doing their duty."
Heidi grins, "maybe I shoulda attended a few more classes in university. Ok Indira, your guess as to when they actually collapse?"
"Suppose they can meet that first troop commitment. So say the tribals in New Guinea start up and those 100,000 troops are airlifted. So what happens when something else blows while they're still bogged down in the jungle? Say Lebanon, Sri Lanka, Philippines, name a dozen African countries. As of the point they can't meet a second troop commitment, all that accumulated hate comes bursting out of the closet."
Betty Lou, "Soviets would be another example. Failed to deliver the goods, imploded."
I protest, "but at least these people deliver economically. Soviets didn't."
Heidi, "but see, consumers build all that into their expectations. So ultimately a government gets little credit for good economic times; roasted alive when the economy tanks."
Betty Lou grins wickedly, "real reason we're here? Cheaper than all those cocaine-snorting movie stars. History TV delivers the ratings."
"Sad, really sad," Heidi asserts, "but beats the bejabers out of working in the bakery because my degree is useless."
Everyone roars with laughter, there is a statement all can subscribe to.

We graduate from English and our reward is limited passes. Forbidden to be off base weekday evenings or weekend evenings; but we can wander during daylight on weekends.
Official explanation: crime, rate is pretty horrendous after dark. Browsing the news, I can see they aren't making it up. Coffee house fights using knives are about thrice as common here as bar fights with knives back home.
As our English teacher so cheerfully puts it, "you people are expensive to train. You're small and ah shall we say not very athletic looking. We don't want our investment bleeding all over the floor."
In the common room, this draws a lot of conversation. Just how safe is this world? Are we more or less obliged to permanently live on base?

I ask the teacher if there are separate classes for men.
She laughs, "early years of the program, tried them. 9/10 of missions washouts due to addiction problems."
"And the rate for women is?"
"Confidential, can't tell you. Too high, but nowhere near as bad."
"That grim?"
"Child, the danger is you, not the mission. Get bored to death, take crazy chances for kicks. Like war or cop movies, lot more action than real life. Real life, the cop is endlessly checking behind apartment buildings for stolen cars and the soldier doing endless sentry duty. Real life, action is 1/10 of 1% of your time."
"Oh."
"But you worked in a library, should be able to put up with boredom."