End The LightCatcher
Page 5
Chapter 3
R & R
The inedible food in the ILC cookhouse was not a result of the lack of cooking ability or budget. After all, everyone knew that the City of Lions was the premiere food paradise of this universe. And so, the poor tasting food was in fact more of a personal statement by the ILC to allow the young recruits a chance to experience the hardship of bad food as part of their training. Of course, this was also a convenient excuse for reducing the budget on food but they wouldn’t want you to know that. But End didn’t care about all of this. He knew now that he was on his own. His emotions were fluctuating between somewhere in depression and also strength, because now he had to be more independent to survive in this strange new place.
“Can I have some more?” asked End as it came to his turn in the long queue for food.
The chef was a skinny one. Not many chefs were skinny but this one was. He also had a tall hat on. Every time End saw a chef with a tall hat on, he always wondered if it was for containing a really tall cake or if it contained a mouse. The chef’s grumpiness was incredible, as he stopped what he as doing and stared at End.
“I was paid to cook for exactly seven thousand recruits and three meals a day on working days. Do you have any idea how this system works? Do you have any idea what happens if I give you some more?”
“I would become less hungry?”
“You would become less hungry? Haha! That’s a good one. No boy, I would have the unfortunate burden to do extra work. Who’s paying me to cook an extra meal? Are you? Is it your tax money or your ILC school fees?” The Chef used a device to scan the VF of End. He was shocked to find the result.
“You have no credit. And it says here that you are exempt from paying school fees for the ILC.” All this seemed incredulous to the Chef as he took back End’s share of food.
“No free loaders!” said the chef.
“You can’t do that.” pleaded End.
“Next!”
End went back to sit down with the rest of his platoon. He looked at the plates of all the other recruits. Everyone was munching away with their meals, and all End had for lunch is a string quartet performed by the strings ensemble of his stomach and bowels.
After lunch, End found himself with the rest of the platoon gathered at the first floor of their bunk. End felt really tired due to hunger. Arnold stood before everyone and bellowed.
“How was lunch?”
Arnold looked at one or two recruits with an earnest look in his eyes. He pretended to be open about criticism, as he looked through all the scared faces of the recruits, trying to find one who dared to look back at him. Even though End was hungry, he was not stupid. He was still alert enough to know that he should not look up to look Arnold in the eye in this very moment. But someone did, and Arnold seemed exhilarated to have found him. The boy had an annoying face of a natural born bully. The face looked arrogant, and his eyes were always trying to look at someone from the tip of his nose. He stood there as arrogant as can be, and in front of Arnold. Arnold saw the name on his shirt.
“Beef? Is your name really Beef? How was the food, Beef?”
“It was terrible Arnold.”
“Get down!”
“Yes Arnold!” shouted Beef as he got into push-up position.
“Give me fifty!”
“But I just ate!”
“A hundred! You may begin!” Beef began doing a hundred push-ups. Like a cheetah that just ripped a prey to pieces, Arnold strutted around hunting for his next prey.
“My duty is not to feed you. I own you!”
Arnold took a sip from his small cup of espresso.
“If you don’t already know me, My name is Arnold, and I am your PTI, Physical Torture Instructor, and your everything. Your course is a three months basic LightCatching course, and only after the first three weeks of confinement, can you begin to go back home to see your mama on the weekends. Now, before I introduce you to a life-time of pain, let’s have a run around the school to familiarize you with your institute and respective torture chambers. Move out!”
Arnold took a step forward, then stopped.
“Oh, and who knows what is R & R?”
Beef had just completed his pushups “Permission to recover sir!” requested Beef.
“Do it.”
Beef got up and vomited. He went back to stand in line with puke on his face.
“So anyone know what is R n R?”
“Rest and Recreation?” mumbled Beef.
“Get down! Give me 50. Begin!” Beef could not believe his ears. His puke had not even dried up yet. He froze for a second, unsure of how stupid he could possibly get, before getting down to do more push-ups.
“Everybody! Get down!”
The new recruits sprawled on the floor. They tried as best as they could to avoid the muddier regions of the ground. Arnold had seen this way too many times in his career and laughed.
“I knew you do that! Everybody, hands in the mud!” Commanded Arnold. The recruits felt the discomfort of having mud between their fingers. End saw his entire fist disappear into the mud, as his body weight pressed him down. Beef adjusted himself beside End and some mud spilled on to End’s shirt. Beef smiled at End.
Arnold never seemed to be in a good mood, but he enjoyed the sight of the recruits anchoring themselves in mud. Everybody seemed scared of him and on high alert for more torture. End could barely hold himself up with two hands. It had finally dawned upon him that his fitness was miles apart from his peers. Great doubt and fear clouded his mind about the probability of his survival in this course.
“No one gets up until someone can tell me what R n R stands for?”
“Run and Run!” shouted someone. Arnold walked over to the boy.
“You, get up, what is your name?”
“Akira.” Answered the boy. He was a Japanese boy with mixed ethnicity. There was a slight European look about him.
“Akira, you are now Platoon sergeant. Everybody Recover!” shouted Arnold. The weary students staggered to get up.
“Whenever any of you travel around the camp, you will march. Anyone caught strolling like this was Orchid Road, will become my shopping bag for a week.”
Arnold turned to Beef.
“Hey Beef, you love questions right? Don’t you want to ask me what I mean by a ‘shopping bag’?”
“No, Arnold.”
“You sure?”
“Yes Arnold!”
“Good. Then let me ask you. What do you think I meant by a shopping bag?”
“I don’t know Arnold!”
“Aren’t you curious to find out?”
“No, Arnold!”
“Then how are you going to answer me?”
“Ok! Arnold, sir, I would like to know what a shopping bag means?”
“Good, why don’t you find out? You can become my shopping bag for the week!”
Beef was lost in the confusion of words that Arnold had used on purpose. End realized that Arnold now had Beef in his sights, and would have him there till the end of the entire training. He also knew therefore that it would be wise to stay out of Arnold’s radar. Arnold turned to look at everyone, and everyone had that fear in their eyes as they looked away from his strong gaze. End was no exception.
“I am your PTI. It is my duty to come up with new and exciting ways to torture you. You may be an intelligent or curious person by nature. Good. I am here to tell you, that I will always be there to satisfy your curiosity, like our good friend here, Beef!”
Arnold made Beef carry a sandbags as they ran on.
“If I find a single grain of sand on the floor, you will carry it over the same distance again.”
“But that’s not…” Beef stopped right there. He suppressed his inner desire to question and rebut Arnold. There seemed to be a threshold in Beef after all.
“You can put the sandbags down only at the Warmart. Now, everyone! Listen up. I will now take you on an R n R around the school compound. Those who fa
il to keep up will not be allowed to sleep tonight. Platoon Sergeant, lead your men and follow me!”
With those words, Arnold sprinted off into the sunset with the speed of a cheetah. But he looked nothing like a cheetah. He was a muscular man with a heavy top, a tiny waist and small legs running so quickly that it almost looked unreal. It was also a mystery as to where his tiny espresso cup would be kept when he ran, because it would pop up again, filled with hot espresso whenever you were not looking at him.
But I assure you that this mystery was nowhere in the minds of the tired recruits as they realized that almost no one could catch up with him. The closest person that could get to him was Akira, but even he came up second best by a mile. Arnold once again slowed down for the recruits to catch up. They finally came to a place where there were several stations for a fitness test.
“This is the F.A.T.S Test,” said Arnold. He turned to Beef who managed to bring the sandbag thus far.
“You look like you are dying. Put the sandbag down.”
Beef finally let the sandbag down with a huge exhale of breath.
“Now, aren’t you dying to ask me what F.A.Ts stands for?”
Beef’s mouth was itching to ask that question. End saw the horror of a boy who had that nasty habit of opposing people all the time by instinct. Beef was tired physically and it affected his mental strength to shut himself up. End could feel him trying, and struggling with his desire to ask the question. It was like a candy to a fat boy. A twisted look of agony was in the face of Beef, as his lips finally broke free from the strangle hold of his mental concentration. Poor Beef, finally let himself go.
“Why is it called the F.A.Ts test?” blurted Beef.
“You know what to do?” smiled Arnold as Beef got down for another fifty push-ups. He stopped at one and collapsed. He looked like a tough brute, but even hulks have limits.
“If none of you can answer, then everybody is going down once more.”
“F.A.Ts is an abbreviation for Fitness Assessment Test. It is mandatory to pass this test.” Said Akira, saving everyone once more.
“You are the man. Yes. The F.A.Ts is absolutely essential. Why? Because your physical conditioning affects your mental conditioning, which affects your emotional conditioning. As you can see from our case study, Beef, over here.”
Arnold walked to a chin up bar.
“This is the emotional chin up bar. You! Recruit End, try it!”
End was shocked to hear his name called. He felt that he had done so well to keep a low profile.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Mount the bar!”
End used the foot support to get up. He grabbed the bar with both hands. They were a little slippery, and he slipped off slightly before getting a good grip.
“I am waiting,” said Arnold.
End grabbed some sand to rub around his sweaty palms.
“Begin!”
End tried to do one pull-up but couldn’t. As he went up, he felt an immense sadness, and he fell off the bar. It wasn’t a slip, more of a repulsion. Arnold caught him with one hand.
“Always dismount with proper procedure with those foot supports! The emotional chin up bars uses your own negative emotions to weigh you down. As you can see from case study Recruit End, his negative energy is so high that the bar repels him. Only when you learn to conquer your negative emotions, can you even do one pull up. If you do less than ten pull-ups before the final test, you fail this entire course.”
Arnold walked to the next station.
“This is Shutter Speed Run. There is no way to explain it. I will demonstrate.”
Arnold stood at the start line. There was a short distance of a hundred metres after the start line. Arnold readied himself and in one second, there was a quick flash and he was at the finish line. Arnold panted after he finished, but quickly caught his breath back.
“This is to train lightning quick reflexes that may save your life one day.”
Akira did four sprints by himself. Arnold was impressed but told him off.
“Very impressive. A hundred push-ups please. Get down! Gentlemen, if you are unable to do one shutter speed sprint under the time of one second, you fail the entire course.”
Arnold then came to a mat, with the distance laid out before it. He stood at the position where two feet-like shapes were drawn.
“This is the Standing Light Jump. Basically, jump as far as you can, you have to meet that three metre mark, or you fail the test.”
“How far can you jump?” asked Beef. He had gone mad from the interchanging process of physical and mental torture. He was too tired to hold his emotions back.
“Why? Do you wish to challenge me?”
“Sure.” Said Beef, before he realized what his lips had just said, “I mean No!”
“Good. You can go first. Whoever loses owes the other a thousand push-ups.”
Beef groaned. He walked up to the start position and was very uncertain. He swung his arms like an amateur. With such deliberation, he looked like he was even measuring for wind direction to affirm his chances of winning. He bent his knees and finally made a leap. He made it past the three metres mark, and celebrated like an Olympic gold medalist.
“Easy.” He said.
Arnold stood at the start position without any elaborate positioning, and leaped five metres forward. Beef’s jaw dropped. Beef got down to his push-ups.
“There will be times, you are required to make a jump over a gap or towards a cliff. How much light energy you can harness out of your emotions, will determine your survival. Fail this, and you fail the course.”
Arnold then brought the recruits to a running track. It had a sign at the side that wrote “2.4km Run.”
“Stamina has nothing to do with muscles. Use your light energy, and complete this run within nine minutes or fail the entire course. Beef, you can owe me those push-ups first. Now let’s get moving to our next location! The last guy gets to spend the night as my armchair till morning!”
With those words, everyone found new motivation once more and sped up as Arnold blasted off into the sunset once more. The recruits swarmed on like lost flies as they ran over beaches and rocky tracks used by army vehicles. As they ran, End took his time to admire his surroundings. They were running alongside a beautiful beach but no one was really interested in admiring the scenery right now. They were putting every inch of their mental focus into running. Across the sea, End could see the outline of the City of Lions in the sunset. The ILC looked like the perfect resort, had it not actually been used as a military training facility. The ILC must therefore be sitting on a separate island on its own, thought End. They continued running into the forest and through some broken buildings that looked like they were war-torn. The place looked very much like an ex-military training area with its bunks and canteens. But the air there seemed still, dusty and dead.
“This is the old school of ILC – known as Charlie Charlie Company.”
“What happened here?” asked End.
“Get down, give me twenty and let me satisfy your curiosity!”
End got down into position. He did not know what possessed him to speak. He certainly did not want to end up like Beef.
“All you have to know is to never come here. After you have finished, catch up! The rest of you, move!”
The platoon abandoned End. End was left all alone to do his push-ups. He saw the platoon disappear in front of him. Left all alone, he felt a gust of uncomfortable wind breeze by. He looked in the direction of Charlie Charlie Company. For a second, he thought he saw someone moving in the shadows. He felt a great unease like there was definitely something wrong with this place. Just then he heard a sound. It was something like another gush of wind, only this time it also sounded like someone’s voice. Feeling the vertical strands of hairs that had formed a line on the back of his neck, End forgot about the pushups and ran as fast as he could to rejoin the platoon.
The platoon ran deeper, and into a forested area whi
ch probably acted as a training ground. End saw a danger sign that read “Restricted Access. Grenade Throwing Area”. Arnold stopped, but continued jogging on the spot. He saw some recruits who had stopped to catch their breath.
“Continue to jog on the spot! There are four basic tests that you have to pass in order to pass the entire course. This is the first one, the light grenades section. Here you will learn how to throw a live “Light” grenade. Let’s keep moving.”
The group then ran over a huge plantation of trees, and some small hills and winding muddy paths. They came to their next destination. There were long hallways of grass and there were target boards at the end. It looked like a rifle range, except that the targets looked very far away and impossible to hit with a normal rifle.
“This is the Photon Rifle Range. Here you must pass the basic accuracy test using a photon rifle. Some of you may even become a marksman, and be awarded with extra credit to spend.”
“Credit?” thought End.
“Yes. Everyone has credit. Except you.”
End did not understand what Arnold meant, as his PTI sped off once more. Arnold led them over some small bridges and past a few small rivers as they came to a place where there was a mountain. The road beyond them was sloped downwards. Below the slope was an obstacle course. There was a sign that wrote “Dark Obstacles Course”. It looked like any other obstacles course and End could not make out what was so special about this one. Arnold walked forward. When he came very near, the entire obstacle course began to become shrouded in black clouds of pure darkness.
“One of the most important things to pass is the Dark Obstacles course. It looks like a simple obstacle course with many simple physical challenges, but it isn’t. It is probably the hardest part of your basic Light catching course. And no one can teach you how to pass it. Only you can figure it out for yourself. Fail any of these four trials, and you will fail the entire course.”
Arnold looked at End.
“Fail any of the four trials and you will be sent directly back to the Sphere of Influence. Now, that’s the end of my tour, let’s return.”
Everybody was dead tired, and they followed Arnold’s instructions. End was glad for the run to have ended, as he didn’t think he could run any more. As Arnold was about to move off, Akira raised his hand.
“Yes?” said Arnold.
“You mentioned four trials, but you have only shown us three.”
“Everyone except Akira, Get Down!”
Akira was left standing upright, as everyone got into push-up positions. End felt like he had been pushed to the brink of his resistance.
“Why is it that Akira is the only one that paid attention to what I am saying? Everybody give me a hundred push-ups. Down!”
Everyone began doing push-ups. End did not think he could take it anymore. After losing almost all their energy, Arnold told them what the fourth trial is.
“The fourth trial is known as the LFC, the “Light and Field Craft”. If you can pass the Dark Obstacles course, you will be sent into the forest to survive for a month. Expect all of the four schools of recruits to be out there surviving with you. You must do whatever it takes to survive, that’s the basic principle, but I will be watching you, so don’t do anything dangerous or stupid. More on that when you pass the Dark Obstacles course. Now, any questions on the previous obstacles?”
“No, Arnold!” everyone echoed.
“Good. Get up. We appear to be ahead of schedule, so I will bring you to the war-mart.”
Arnold brings the group to what looked like a convenient store. The words “War Mart” were written in the front. At the side was a rusty billboard that had the words, “Dark War Billboard.” It had many old photos from the Dark War that nobody took any notice of.
“This is the war-mart. Here you can exchange your credit for any item that you will need for your training.”
Arnold turned to End.
“Except you. Credit is deducted from school fees, and you don’t have school fees.”
End sulked. Arnold brought the rest of the recruits inside the War mart as End trailed behind.
“Uncle E? It appears that the shop owner is not in. When it comes to any equipment you may need for the duration of your course, Uncle E will take care of it. He runs this Warmart privately, but is also the QM of the entire ILC.”
“What is a QM?” asked End. After which he realized his mistake and got ready to get down into push-up position.
“Important question. No push-ups needed!” said Arnold.
“Not fair!” said Beef.
“Beef, you give me twenty. Now everyone, a QM, is a Quarter Master, a person in charge of army stores.”
“You mean like weapons?” asked Beef whilst in push-up position.
“No. And top up another twenty push-ups, Beef. Not weapons. All weapons are locked up and secured in armskotes.”
Arnold pointed to some snacks and drinks in the shop.
“When I say stores, I mean these things over here. These drinks and snacks are used to re-vitalize a LightCatcher, and prevent dehydration. The protein bars and shakes provide the necessary vitamins and minerals for generating light. And of course, there are also the lights.”
Arnold pointed to the Lights. There were many lights available in the warmart.
“These lights re-vitalize your light energy so that you can last longer on the battle field.”
Arnold looked at his watch.
“Alright. I will give you thirty minutes to look through to see what you need. After that I expect everyone back at the company line. Do you understand?”
“Yes Arnold,” everyone echoed.
End broke from the pack and explored the mart himself. He was a person who was easily tired of conformity. There were endless corridors of shelves that were thrice as tall as he was. He came to a section, where many kinds of lamps and lights were sold. Just then, End saw something. He looked closer. It was a tuxedo. What was a tuxedo doing here?
“Ah, an explorer! Welcome.”
An old man greeted End. His beady squinty eyes seemed to be assessing End’s wealth level. He was almost completely bald, with a little grey hair at his sideburns.
“Here is my card.”
End received his card. He felt a little flash of light appear on his Viewfinder.
“My name is Ebenezer, but to save on printing cost the card says Uncle E.”
Uncle E noticed that End was intrigued with the tuxedo.
“Oh this area is restricted and no, that tuxedo is not for sale.”
“What are all these lights for?”
“Oh, you shine these lights on a LightCatcher and they will provide him with additional Light energy to power things up. All of them Solar powered, otherwise won’t it be ridiculous to be finding a power point on the battlefield? But of course the bigger ones have more powerful solar cells in them so they cost slightly more.”
“Wow.”
“Light bends to the will of the master. Are you able to produce light energy yet?”
End is puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, ‘What do I mean?’ You are selected for this LightCatcher course are you not? Can’t you produce light from your palm like this?”
Uncle E showed End how it was done. End was amazed to see that even this old man could produce Light from his palm.
“How did you do that?”
“Oh dear, then how did you get into this Institute? Do you have a rich uncle? If you do, I strongly recommend that you join our Warmart as a member. With membership, you will get a five percent discount off all items.”
“No thanks”, said End.
But Uncle E thought that he sensed the arrogant scent of a rich man’s son, and so he persisted with his sales push.
“You need to purchase some lights from me since you still can’t emit light from your palm. How about these small ones? They’re pocket sized, solar re-chargeable. They are called Dodo lights name
d after the extinct bird.”
“I, erm…”
“How about these ones?” Uncle E was getting excited, “These are called Kinderflows. They are larger, four long tubes of light, much kinder in terms of energy efficiency, and when you absorb the energy given off by them, you feel…kind.”
“Well, I…”
“Or maybe you need big boy over here? I call him Mr K. Imagine the power of the sun in your hands. One blast of this, and an entire battalion of soldiers will have their light energy re-energized, your own troops of course, not the enemy. Haha. But of course, these ones are the costliest, and unless your father owns an oil field somewhere back home. Does your father own an oil field? He does right?”
“No.”
Uncle E came very close to End’s arm.
“Maybe if I knew what your budget was, I could arrange a special deal for you.” Uncle E touched End’s viewfinder, and accessed End’s credit limit. To his horror, he realized that End had no money.
“Negative twenty four dollars and fifteen cents? That’s the cost of my card! Have you no money at all?”
“You charged me for receiving your name card?”
“Of course. Everything has a cost. That was the cost of meeting my acquaintance, and wasting fifteen minutes of my time. Meeting you is depressing. What kind of recruit has no money? What are you?”
Uncle E scurried off, but turned back suddenly.
“If you don’t pay me back the money, I will report you to the ILC, and have you kicked out of this course.”
End lowered his head in dismay. Now he had a new problem that he had no possible solution to. How could he earn money in the ILC? Could he beg, he wondered. End gave up looking through the stuff. It was even more dangerous to do window-shopping with a person like Uncle E moving around. He found a little space and sat down. He was really tired. Deep in his ponder, he saw Beef talking to Uncle E. He was whispering and that look meant that he was up to no good.
“You want a what? Oh we don’t have that,” said Uncle E, until Beef whispered, “Triple the price.”
Uncle E smiled.
“Oh, I forgot, it just came in this year. It was invented only this year, how did you know of it?”
Beef shrugged his shoulders. Uncle E unwrapped something from a small shelf to pass to Beef. It looked like a small sticker, transparent in design, looking like any other piece of thin plastic film you could buy anywhere.
“Why would you need this?” Uncle E asked.
Beef did not answer as he walked off. End saw how easy it was for Beef to purchase something, and felt a little sad. He looked around and saw some highly ranked officers and some lower ranked soldiers having coffee at a small cafeteria area in the shop. They were charging the coffee to their viewfinders with such ease. End loved coffee and how wonderful it would be, to be able to get some coffee right now. He was so thirsty.
In that instance, some recruits from another company came barging in. The five of them took over the seats of the officers as they came in. It was surprising to see officers giving way to recruits. The five behaved like gangsters. Their leader came in last. He was a guy with a black moustache. His forehead was big and his hairline was receding though his remaining hair was gelled back with slickness. He was small in frame. He looked like a weak man trying to exude the power that he really had, but was unconvincing at welding. He looked at the young man’s name-tag, and it wrote “Hoofhearted Jr.” The young man saw End looking at his nametag and found it amusing. He called out to him.
“What is your name?”
“End.”
The young man laughed. He had a nerdy laugh that sounded really annoying. And yet the people around him held him with such high regard, that they laughed like a chorus, to add baritone, bass and tenor to his Countertenor voice.
“Are you serious?” asked the young man.
End nodded with innocence in his eyes.
“Hmm. You do look like someone who is always serious. Don’t look so serious, please. From now on you will have a less serious name. I shall call you Endy.”
End is confused.
“My name is Alfredo Hoofhearted. My father named me after one of his favorite pastas the fettuccine Alfredo. Some people call me Fred, or Freddy. But personally I prefer Hoofhearted Junior, because then you know who I am, and fear me, before we become friends. Come over here, and sit with us.”
“I am not sure if I can.”
“Come.”
Hoofhearted Jr spoke like he was some sort of mafia, though he only had the charisma level of an apprentice mob boss who was made in charge of the territories occupied by a small potted plant.
“Uncle E! Come here you!”
Uncle E came scrambling over with great speed to serve him five beautiful cocktail that has a horse’s hoof designed on top. Why does Junior get to drink alcohol in a strict military institution is no mystery to all.
“Is this the special?”
“Yes.”
“Your special coffee cocktail?”
“Made with the Special White coffee beans from the City of Tigers that money can’t buy.”
Hoofhearted Jr paid Uncle E for the cocktail that money couldn’t buy. He sipped it with great indulgence. End watched on, and swallowed his own saliva as he watched Hoofhearted Jr enjoy the coffee cocktail.
“My father,” began Hoofhearted, “owns every horse racing club in the City of Lions. Hey Uncle, where are your manners? Can I have something for our friend as well? Throw in a freebie won’t ya?”
Uncle E had only piercing eyes for End. He went back behind the counter to search for his cheapest drink. It was buried deep in one of the shelves and wasn’t chilled. It was labeled “Essence of Guava”. He served it to End. The irony of all this was that End loved this drink. In fact, in one taste, he decided that this was to be his favorite drink of all time. Such was the character of End. He was an easily satisfied kind of guy. Furthermore, he was drop dead thirsty.
“Essence of Guava. Wow” said End.
“You are funny. How can anyone love anything so cheap? My apologies though, Uncle E is such a miser, shall I get you something else?” said Hoofhearted Jr.
“No this will be fine.”
Hoofhearted Jr laughed again.
“Alright cheapskate. You are funny, but you can sit with us. Maybe we should play game along the lines of pretending to be a cheapskate like you for a day. Huh, guys what do you think?”
The guys just nodded.
“Not so good huh? Hey E! Any more stories? Endy, did you know that E is one of the greatest story-tellers of the century? He always cracks me up. E, you the man! You are the definitive king of gossip. You are Gossip Man!”
“They are not gossip. Hoof. They are true!”
Hoofhearted Jr knocked his cocktail to the ground with great and deliberate intention. The glass broke. Uncle E could hear the sound of money notes tearing.
“You don’t get to call me Hoof.”
“I am so sorry, I do apologize, Mr Hoofhearted Jr. I am dreadfully sorry, it won’t happen again. I am sorry.”
Hoofhearted smiled and turned to End.
“But you get to. Because you are funny. Try it!”
“Hoof?” murmured End.
“That’s my boy, Endy!”
Hoofhearted Junior turned back to Uncle E.
“Well? What you waiting for? Am I getting a new cocktail or what?”
“Right away sir.”
“No. Not right away. Tell me a story first! Do you have a new story? It’s either a new story or ten new cocktails on the house for insulting me.”
Uncle E weighed the cost of ten new cocktail against a rumor. Easy.
“You know I am the king of gossip!” Said Uncle E with renewed story telling prowess.
“That’s my E!” said Hoofhearted Jr. Uncle E edged closer to him and whispered.
“This one is a premium rumor.”
“And?”
“There is that little thing a
bout my delayed payments that perhaps could be waivered.”
“I’m listening.”
“I was wondering if it was possible to have twice the rental space for stores, at half the rental price. Could you put in a word for me with your father.”
“Well it depends on how premium is your premium rumor,” said Hoofhearted Jr.
Uncle E motioned them to edge closer. There was look of a magician in his eyes when he told stories.
“See! I just love the way his eyes does that thing as if all his stories are true,” exclaimed Hoofhearted Jr.
“What if I told you that Amon Goth did not start the ILC?”
“But that’s nonsense. He was the true visionary that saw the potential of the VF as a device for keeping the peace of the City of Lions.”
“He is a great man. I agree with that.” Said Uncle E, but he could sense that the ever volatile Hoofhearted Jr was upset.
“And my father’s friend, so I can’t have you speaking like that about him.” Said Hoofhearted Jr.
“Wait, don’t get me wrong. I do respect him. Everyone knows his brilliant mind was the reason that Dark Monday ended. Everyone knows he is a hero, that won against an enemy who had far more superior technology in their weapons,” Said Uncle E, “and the man was so modest that he wanted to retire straight after, because his brother died. The army had to call him back and force him to become the defense minister!”
“Precisely. He didn’t want any of the glory, or any accolades or prestige that was to be bestowed on him. Truly a down to earth and modest, dependable man.” Said Hoofhearted Jr.
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“Sure I do.”
“Nah, you don’t!
“Hey, I am Uncle E, the king of gossip! Did you know that Amon donated half his life savings to the families of those affected by Dark Monday? Did you know that he uses his VF to allow himself only one hour of sleep everyday, so that he can personally supervise each and every critical training session and outfield exercise to ensure the maximum safety of all his recruits? Don’t question me on what I know. I know that this man is a good man.”
Hoofhearted Jr nodded his head.
“So you do know.”
“Of course I know.”
“Then what were you telling me earlier?”
“That he didn’t start the ILC.”
“There you go again.”
“It was started by another man, who was not from this world.”
“An alien?”
“Not exactly. He was human.”
“If he were an alien I might have scheduled a talk with my father tonight about your rental woes.”
Uncle E paused for a while. The proposition was tempting, but even though he was infamous for being the eternal entrepreneur, he never compromised on his stories.
“It’s the truth. He was not an alien.”
“How regrettable.”
“But he was from another time.”
Hoofhearted Jr’s eyes lit up. He was excited, but End spoke first.
“Who is this traveller and why did he come here to the City of Lions to build a military school?”
“Hold on. I get to ask the questions,” said Hoofhearted Jr, “What is your evidence that this man you claim to exist was a time traveller?”
Uncle E summoned his wily eyes that were so full of the sparkles of secrecy that it made Houdini’s eyes looked like the eyes of an amateur. Out from his pocket he took out an object. Hoofhearted Jr marveled at it, though he was unsure of what it was. It looked like a miniature hour-glass about the size of a thumb. However the sand inside this one was different, for it actually seemed to move slower, as if the sand particles were floating in space.
“A scavenger told me that this was found at the crash site of the time traveller’s arrival. There was no way of knowing exactly what this is. But some friends of mine, told me that this hour glass must have travelled through time, and so the space in our outer atmosphere and the air inside the hour glass is travelling at different speeds.”
It was clear and obvious that Hoofhearted Jr was impressed.
“I meant to keep it safe till I open a museum some day. I mean who knows, if my theory proves correct, I could probably sell it for a lot of money,” said Uncle E, “But currently I really need a lower rent for survival, so if you could put in a good word for me with your father, I am sure you would much prefer to have this in your museum some day.”
“At what cost?”
Uncle E whispered into Hoofhearted Jr’s ear.
“Done. And your rental woes will be absolved as well.”
“Thank you so much!”
Uncle E handed the strange item to Hoofhearted Jr. Hoofhearted held the little hour-glass in his hands like a new born baby child of his. But like every spoilt kid, he lost interest once he got the toy of his desire. He looked at the time on his VF.
“Oh, it is almost time for my facial appointment. Remember End, if there’s anything you need, you let me know.”
Hoofhearted Jr left the mart. Uncle E was smiling till his mouth could stretch no more. He realized that End was looking at him.
“Why are you looking at me that way, boy?”
“You cheated him.”
Uncle E glared at End.
“And why would you say that?”
“I don’t know. I just felt it.”
“I didn’t cheat him.” Uncle E smiled again. Those same lights sparkling in his eyes.
“Is that story even true?” asked End, “Or did you just make the bargain of the century.” Not only was he ultra sensitive to the feelings of those around him, he sometimes could also decipher what motivated them. Uncle E hesitated, but a cheeky smile was finding its place on his face. He made sure there was no one around him, before speaking again. You see, the thing about cheats was that they were also very boastful.
“There is a place in the City of Lions known as Bitch Road, where almost anything can be found. That boy doesn’t go out much, living only with his fast cars, and deep pockets. He doesn’t know that I bought that little magic trick item for a hundred dollars, and sold it to him for five thousand.” Uncle E was laughing so hard at his success.
“Aren’t you afraid that I will tell on you?” asked End.
“My boy, I am a businessman. Blackmailing is the core foundation of business. I wouldn’t have told you if I hadn’t checked out who you are.”
Uncle E touched his own VF, and summoned a data file on End.
“I checked out your ID number, and it seems that if you drop out of this course, you will be sent to the Sphere of Influence. So you see, you wouldn’t dare tell on me because with one word I can send you on a Zombie conversion course.” After such unkind words, Uncle E proceeded on with dusting a shelf of his. End looked at him with a new profound fear for the old man. He knew the man was a bargain hunter, but he never knew he could be vicious. But at least his character was clear, because his motivations were always the same. Money. As End pondered on about Uncle E, his eyes brushed past the clock on the wall. It was then that he realized that he had exceeded his time to return to the company. He was late!
“Remember, $24.15” reminded Uncle E.