At the end of one particularly long set of door-breaching drills, one of the instructors dropped to his knees and started chanting in tongues. He seemed to be celebrating that one of his “slowest” squads had finally nailed a textbook entry. Roland wasn’t sure what to hell to make of it. The man almost smelled like he was having a schizophrenic break. The heady wash of neurotransmitters wafting off him made it clear this wasn’t just some gesture for show. He seemed legitimately overcome with joy.

Other soldiers, and even a couple of the instructors, started kneeling down around him. They were all chanting in some strange language. The first instructor kept repeating what sounded like, “Om nashakallaska, om nashakallaska.” Roland’s hindbrain knew a lot of languages, but this sounded like nonsense to him. He noticed that the speech patterns of each chanting man were pretty consistent with American English. The actual words were gibberish, though, and–

Manny grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed, gently, down. Roland took the hint and then took a knee. The kid started to chant in a low voice.

“Hila taskilla jeosapha tinshalla…” It was more gibberish, but Roland followed suit. He started to spit out nonsense of his own in a tone low enough that it didn’t rise above the din of chanting maniacs. Manny’s strategy, he realized, was to make big exaggerated mouth-­motions without actually speaking at a high volume. It made him look right without drawing any attention.

The whole weird scene went on for a little over two minutes. Eventually the instructor stopped chanting and lay on his back, sweaty and spent. The other soldiers seemed to have ended their fits in the same way. Roland could tell from their heart rates and body temperature that about half of the men had been faking it, just like he and Manny. The humid stink of guilt was heavy in the air. Roland’s heart went out to them. It must be agony to believe so hard in something so dumb that you’d castigate yourself for not buying into it enough.

After that, they filed into the mess hall. They said their prayers, ate their dinners, and then queued up for the buses downtown. The ride was uneventful. And the instant their feet hit the square Manny went off to find Sasha. Roland shook his head in appreciation for the all-consuming power of human desire and then bounded off to check out the presumed location of the jail.