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The O'Neal Saboteur

Page 3

by Nathan Pedde


  “Why?”

  “Cause I asked nicely,”

  “And if I don’t show up?” Des asked.

  “Did you notice that something didn’t happen when you got home last night?” Captain Kusheeno said.

  “I noticed.”

  “I’ll leave you with that train of thought. You’re done your classes by three. I expect you in my office by three-thirty. No later. Oh. One more thing. No one knows about our meeting. Don’t discuss it with anyone, even your little girlfriend. Don’t get followed.”

  “Elsie is standing right beside me, and she’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Don’t tell anyone else about my phone call,” Captain Kusheeno said, “And Elsie better keep it a secret if you want her ‘Get out of Jail free card’ to keep.”

  Captain Kusheeno didn’t wait for a response and hung up. The phone line went silent.

  “Jerk,” Des said, “How much did you hear?”

  “All of it,” Elsie said, “You need to turn your phone’s volume down.”

  “Can you do it though?” Des asked, “Keep a secret?”

  “Yes, but I don’t like this,” Elsie said.

  “Me neither.”

  “I heard about him. That jerk’s holding the disciplinary notice over our heads. It’s rumored he does that to lots of people.”

  “These people that he’s done this to, have any of them ever gotten out of it?” Des asked.

  “No,” Elsie said, “Not in any of the stories I’ve ever heard.”

  “Great.”

  “I’m sure the stories are vastly exaggerated,” Elsie said.

  “It’s fencing day,” Des said, “I’ve got to get to gym class. Are you going to gym class?”

  “Right,” Elsie said, “I forgot about gym class.”

  Elsie ran down the hall. As she disappeared around a corner, Des couldn’t help but look at her bum as she ran.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Des had changed into his gym clothes and was sitting on a bench in the gymnasium. Elsie sat across from him. She stuck her tongue out at him, and Des rolled his eyes. She was older than he was, yet it was hard to tell who the mature one was.

  “Now,” Mr. Goldhat said.

  Mr. Goldhat was a man of small stature, many of the boys in Des’s class had started to tower over the teacher. Mr. Goldhat had dark red hair and always wore dark goggles.

  “As a reminder,” Mr. Goldhat continued, “the object of fencing is not to beat your opponent into the dust, but to score hits. Five hits and you win the bout. Do you get it?”

  “We get it,” Alix said, “We learned this stuff yesterday.”

  “Yes and some of your fellow students,” Mr. Goldhat said, “who shall not be named, insist on turning this sport into a child’s game," He turned and looked at the class, his darkened goggled eyes bore down into their souls, "Now, it’s time to suit up," A single finger shot out at Des, "Des, you’ll face Alix first, and Alix, next time, wear other shoes. Those are not school-appropriate gym shoes.”

  Des looked at Alix’s shoes. They were a green and purple colored made out of a sheer plastic. They were as ugly as they were distracting.

  He shook his head as he donned his protective gear, and grabbed his mask in one hand. He picked up his practice rapier with the other as he walked up to his starting mark.

  “I was thinking about something,” Alix said as he stepped up.

  “There is your first mistake,” Des said, as he put on his mask, “You started thinking.”

  “Haha. Funny,” Alix said, “I was wondering where Mr. Goldhat got his eyes.”

  Des took up the traditional fighting stance, in his right hand he held the sword pointed towards Alix, his feet made a ‘T’ shape.

  “You think about the weirdest things,” Des said.

  Alix took up a similar stance, except Alix’s was looser than it should have been. Des was happy Alix couldn’t see the grin on his face.

  “Mistake number two,” Des muttered.

  “What?” Alex replied.

  “Begin,” Mr. Goldhat yelled.

  Des moved in quickly and lunged a thrust at Alix’s chest. Despite being unprepared, Alix managed to parry Des’s sword away at the last moment.

  “That’s not fair,” Alix said, “I wasn’t ready.”

  Des attacked again, this time he thrust into Alix’s stomach. Alix tried to block the thrust, but the sword went through, hitting Alix’s padding.

  “One for Des,” Mr. Goldhat said, “Nice form.”

  Des grinned, his smug grin was hidden by the mesh of the mask.

  Alix attacked Des hard, swinging like a wild man, his sword reaching for Des’s mask.

  Des was unprepared for the ferocity of the attack and didn’t get his sword up in time to block. He attempted to move his head out of the way of the sword, but he was too late.

  The padded sword tip hit Des’s face mask. His head snapped back, and Des heard a loud crunch.

  “Point for Alix,” Mr. Goldhat said to Alix, “You need to calm down. That thrust was too wild.”

  Stars and spots floated in Des’s vision he wavered on his feet. As the spots cleared, Des looked at Alix who stood with his sword pointed at Des. He knew his friend was enjoying this and his grin would be ear to ear.

  Des hardened his gaze, narrowing in on his friend. He moved in on Alix. He knocked away Alix’s sword and landed a strike on his Alix’s chest. Des followed up with a second blow that rocked on Alix’s side.

  His head throbbed as he thrust his sword at Alix’s face. His sword caught nothing as Alix dodged to the side away from Des’s wild jab. With the sword still extended, Des rapped the sword down toward Alix’s helmeted head and rapped the tip on the facemask.

  “That’s four,” Des said.

  Alix jabbed at Des wildly. Des parried the thrust, then rapped Alix’s sword on the blade. The sword clattered to the ground before Des delivered a hard blow to Alix’s facemask.

  “Five,” Des said.

  “Some unorthodox moves there, young Des,” Mr. Goldhat said, “But a win none-the-less,” Mr. Goldhat turned to the other students, “Next.”

  Des sat down. He took off his mask gingerly.

  “Oh snap,” Alix said, “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.”

  Blood splattered down Des’s face as it dribbled along the bridge of his nose. The inside of his mask had struck his nose, and broke the skin at the bridge between his eyes and caused blood to dribble out of his nostrils.

  “Fuck,” Des said as blood spattered on his hand.

  ***

  Des sat in the nurse's office, cotton was shoved up his nose, and a butterfly bandage across his nose. He hoped the cut on his nose would leave a scar. However, the nurse had insisted the ointment would heal the wound and there would be no signs he had been injured. Des enjoyed the thought of grievous injuries being repaired, but then disliked it at the same moment. He knew girls loved hard-won scars and a sword fight counted as such.

  Splattered across the walls were posters and pictures of health-related issues. It was like a health fairy had thrown up in an attempt to decorate the walls. Des stared at a poster that showed a diagram of the inside of the ear.

  Des sat in the room for a couple of minutes before his solitude was interrupted. Nurse Brightheart was an older lady with gray curly hair and a hawkish nose. She looked severe, even mean at times, but she always smiled when it mattered. No matter what the situation might be, or what idiotic act Des might have done that day.

  “How are you doing?” Nurse Brightheart asked Des.

  “It doesn’t seem to want to stop,” Des said referring to his nose bleed.

  “You need to squeeze your nose,” Nurse Brightheart said.

  Des did so and winced. The ointment would heal the cut, but it would still hurt until it did.

  “You need to rest, squeeze your nose and let it heal,” Nurse Brightheart said, “So just sit tight, I will come back in a few minutes to check on you.”
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br />   Des sat alone, in his gym clothes, in the nurse's office. He stared at the clock the entire time. At one point he remembered his afternoon appointment and the threat of Captain Kusheeno, which loomed over him.

  After a half an hour, Des took the cotton balls out of his nose. It looked like the ointment had done its job and the bleeding had stopped.

  He grabbed a tissue from its dispenser and cleaned the blood from his face.

  Nurse Brightheart came back in.

  “I told you it would stop,” She said, “You’re a very impatient boy.”

  “Can I go now?” Des asked.

  “Yes,” Nurse Brightheart said, “The school day is almost done. I informed your last block teacher you had been injured and that you wouldn’t make it to class. I also told your Nanny, Susan isn’t it?”

  “I’m sixteen. Susan’s not a Nanny.”

  “Then your babysitter.”

  “Again, I’m sixteen. She’s not my babysitter. She’s a family friend who checks in on us while my uncle is away.”

  “Right,” Nurse Brightheart said, “Anyway. I let her know you received a bloody nose today.”

  “Great,” Des said.

  “You can go home if you’d like,” Nurse Brightheart said.

  Des collected his stuff and exited the nurse's office. After a quick stop to change out of his gym clothes and to grab his backpack. As the school bell rang, with his shoulders hunched over, he walked out of the school. He needed to get to the Captain and face him again.

  A thought he didn’t enjoy.

  Chapter 4

  Des walked into the school parking lot and passed a line of cars. They all looked very similar to each other, except the unique seven digit number painted along the top of the door. He disliked the uniformity of it but knew it was better to have them than not. It was a luxury that people who lived on Europa or other stations didn’t have.

  He headed through the parking lot to the sidewalk and the street beyond. Des’s school was in the middle of the Blue Sector, which consisted of mainly small houses and townhouses, but there were few tall buildings. Collections of shops stretched ran along the main roads. The school itself was two-story tall with a gray stucco siding. A big sign said ‘Ian Q. Malcolm School’ in the front of the building.

  Des couldn’t remember who Ian Q. Malcolm was or how he was important. He was sure if he asked a teacher, he’d probably be laughed at and ridiculed. He could look it up, the act wouldn’t take him very long to do, but he could never remember when he had the time.

  The space station curved gently around him so that if he looked to the east or to the west, he saw the insides curving up in the distance. It was too far away to see exact details with the naked eye, but he could make out the groups of buildings and trees. From what Des had learned in school, he knew the Station was one of the larger ones in orbit around Jupiter. It was so large that if you tried to walk around the inside, it would take you about three days to walk the seventy-five kilometers.

  Des walked down the street. The houses that stretched along the road became stores and shops. He walked past shoe stores and corner stores. He looked into the window of a shoe store as he passed, half the shelves were empty of shoes. The war had put a limit on items which had been deemed luxury goods by the government. It meant shoes for regular people like Des were of limited supply, styles and expensive.

  People walked along the sidewalk with bags of shopping in their hands. Despite the rationing and the limited quantity of goods, people still managed to buy all of the things that they need.

  In the distance, Des saw a couple of older teenagers in the Cadet Uniform his older brother wore. They all wore Kepi Hats, which was a simple-looking white circular flat-top cap with a small visor. The cadets also wore fancy blue Jackets and simple white pants with a single red stripe. Their fancy uniform made them stand out in the crowd.

  He looked at the cadet’s for a half a second and spotted his brother amongst the Cadets. Des looked away a second too late, Des’s brother, Sheemo saw him, and they made eye contact.

  Des broke eye contact and turned around.

  “Des,” Sheemo yelled out from the crowd.

  Des walked away from his brother and into the crowd. He had no interest in talking with him at the moment. He needed to get away and let his future-self deal with his brother.

  He used the people to hide from his brother, but Des was tall for his age. Nearing the same height as an adult, it made hiding in a crowd hard at times.

  He heard Sheemo call his name a couple more times, but Des kept walking down the street. He held the desire to run flat-out suppressed. Des knew that if he were to run, then he would have a hard time claiming he hadn’t seen Sheemo.

  Des silently cursed his school uniform. The colors made him an easy target to follow. If he was wearing regular street clothes, then he could disappear into the crowd and disappear. He had done that before.

  He weaved through the people and worked his way down the street. He craned his head to look for his brother. Des saw the Kepi of his brother and his friends amongst the people. They were following close behind. He knew it was going to take more effort to lose him.

  Des walked into an elevated rail station, and he took the stairs two at a time to get to the top level where the boarding platform was. The platform was packed with people, young and old. The people waited in groups or by themselves. Many looked at their phones or listened to music on sets of wireless earbuds.

  He found a spot that was away from people. It was expected that no one talked to each other unless they knew them or were selling something.

  A train whistled into the station and whined to a stop. The train was five cars long and had doors which opened to both sides. The train was once painted white, but now the paint had turned to a dull, dirty gray. Dents and nicks from overuse and lackluster maintenance were had pocked the once pristine surface.

  Des could see the train was packed full of people. The doors inched open, and a few people squeezed out onto the platform. A press of people pushed onto the train pushing passed people trying to get off the platform.

  He turned his head and saw the flat tops of Sheemo’s Kepi appear from the stairs. Sheemo pointed at Des from the stairs. Sheemo lips moved as if saying something, but Des was too far away to hear anything.

  Des took off his backpack and held it in his hands, and stepped onto the train and squeezed himself in between two women.

  “Excuse me,” Des said.

  The women were in business suits and skirts. They gave Des an angry look as the doors shut behind him.

  A bang echoed from the window of the train just as the train began to speed down the tracks.

  Des looked up at the window to see Sheemo standing at the window with an angry look on his face. His scowl gave him a hawkish appearance. Sheemo’s mouth was moving, but Des couldn’t hear the words.

  “Sorry,” Des said, “I can’t hear you?”

  Des held his hand to his ear to make his point and shrugged his shoulders.

  The train pulled away from the station before it sped away.

  ***

  In Captain Kusheeno’s office, Des sat in the same plastic chair as he did the day before. The chair was still as uncomfortable as it was yesterday. The room looked very much the same as it always did. Des looked around at the pictures on the walls. They were of Captain Kusheeno with other army soldiers. Most of them were informal in restaurants and army settings, with happy people toasting each other and smiling.

  There was one picture of the Captain with a young woman. She was in a formal Cadet Uniform and had a big grin on her face. A rolled certificate was in her hands.

  “Snooping, are you?” Captain Kusheeno said.

  Captain Kusheeno stood in the doorway to the office. In his hands were a cup of coffee and a thin file folder.

  “Framed pictures are meant to be seen,” Des said.

  “So it seems.”

  “Who’s the girl?” Des asked.


  “None of your business, that’s who,” Captain Kusheeno said.

  “Okay,” Des said as he shifted in his chair, “No need to get snappy.”

  Captain Kusheeno walked around the office. He looked at a piece of plasto-paper clipped to the outside of the file folder. He sat down at in his chair and fumbled with a couple pieces of paper from his file folder.

  “So I’m in a predicament,” Captain Kusheeno said, “A predicament you created.”

  “Excuse me?” Des said, “What did I do?”

  “Well,” Captain Kusheeno said, “Let me explain. In the station, do you know what my responsibility is?”

  “Bossing people around and making angry noises?”

  “Funny,” Captain Kusheeno said, “I’m responsible for the safe disposition of all civilians in the event of an emergency.”

  “I’m only sixteen,” Des said, “What does that mean?”

  “It means that in wartime or attack, it’s my job to make sure civilians like you, make it to Emergency Shelters. This also I must keep people out of dangerous, clearly marked areas where they’re not authorized to go. It means that if there was an internal threat which could cause harm to the citizens here, I must investigate and arrest people if necessary.”

  “That means?”

  “That means the fact that you were caught snooping around in the Undercroft and recording your findings is my problem. The fact a missile attack came and you didn’t make it to a shelter is my problem. It also means the data disk that you gave me is my problem. Those forty-five entries of you seeing people or weird things in the Undercroft is my problem.”

  “So I’m your problem?” Des asked.

  “No,” Captain Kusheeno said, “You’re my solution.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this.”

  “I didn’t think you would, but,” Captain Kusheeno said, “my superiors disagree with my handling of this situation. They think I should lock you and your friend up as spies. They think I should kick your brother out of the Military Academy for being your brother. Same with your babysitter Susan, she should lose her college scholarship and go back to Io.”

 

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