by Scott Baron
Chapter Eighteen
“Come on, stop pussyfooting around and hit me!”
Leila weighed the invitation and finally snapped out a jab, catching Rika on the chin.
“That’s more like it,” she said, obviously pleased as she shook off the punch. “Sparring isn’t any good if you go half-assed. Now, let’s go again.”
Rika had offered to spend some time working with her olive-skinned teammate to improve her hand-to-hand skills, as well as basic magic. It was a bit odd, the human helping the woman who grew up using a konus her whole life, but with the tactics implanted into Rika’s mind, she possessed a decided advantage when it came to martial matters.
Charlie and Bawb had been working with Leila for some time as well, but after watching one of their training sessions, Rika suggested a woman might be able to help her in ways they could not. It wasn’t that the boys weren’t skilled. They fought incredibly well, but they fought like men, relying on techniques designed for their physiques and strengths.
A woman, on the other hand, was better suited for speed and leverage than brute strength, and there were specific moves that would suit Leila’s already lithe and athletic build just fine.
The two had been at it for a good ten minutes, starting with light sparring to get the blood flowing and the muscles loose, while Cal and the other AIs were crunching numbers and sorting the mountains of data at their digital fingertips, working on a better methodology to perhaps track the mysterious kidnappers.
In the meantime, that left the tiny handful of unfrozen people on the entire planet with nothing to do but wait. And if waiting was on the menu, why not hone some skills while blowing off a little steam?
“Try to square your hips and throw a series of punches from your midline rather than looping them wide,” Rika instructed.
“Won’t that be weaker?”
“If you get your hips solid as your base of power, then no, not really. It’s all about leverage and transfer of power. Physical, that is, not magical,” Rika noted. “But we’ll get to that stuff too, in a little bit. But for now, try throwing four punches like this,” she said, demonstrating a quick Wing Chun flurry.
Leila stepped over to the three-sectioned punching bag and aimed for the middle one, churning her fists over one another as she had been instructed.
“Nice! You’re a natural.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Well, you’ve got a knack for it,” Rika said. “Some people, it’s like they have two left feet. Take Charlie, for instance.”
“But he’s a great gladiator. I’ve seen him fight, as have you, obviously.”
“Well, yeah. He’s great now. But when we were crewmates, it was like pulling teeth getting him to train at all.”
“So you remember training with him?” Leila asked, her interest piqued.
Rika furrowed her brow. “Not exactly. I mean, I know we did those things, and I have vague flashes every once in a while. But specific memories are like ghost images flitting at the periphery of my memory. But now that we’re training like this, that particular bit felt a little, I don’t know, fresher, if that makes sense.”
Leila supposed it did. When she walked the hills above their home, there were occasional smells that would take her right back to Visla Maktan’s estate and her former life there, tending the animals. Memory was a tricky thing, like that.
“What do you say? Another few rounds before we call it a day?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Rika smiled. “Good answer.” She then launched an attack, forcing Leila to react, not think.
Leila quickly threw her hands as she’d been shown, pivoting at the waist and using her hips for power as she used Rika’s momentum and power to pull her out of position, while situating herself to her side for a clear shot.
Rika winced at the blow, spinning away and throwing a low kick, nearly sweeping Leila off her feet. But Leila was wearing a konus. It was a little thing, barely charged, but it was enough for her to fling a diversionary spell at her opponent, following it with a physical and magical counterattack that took Rika right off her feet.
The stronger woman bounced back to her feet and pressed her attack, forcing Leila out of her comfort zone. But that was Rika’s plan. To make her stretch her abilities and exceed her own expectations.
The spell Leila used wasn’t one they’d been training with. It was one Charlie had shown her, but that she’d never been able to make work no matter how hard she tried. Charlie had explained that the more difficult a spell, the more crucial it was that she not focus on the words as much as the intent and feeling of the energy behind it. And that was what suddenly flowed through her as her lips barely uttered the words.
“Dispanus rahm!” she barked, the konus on her wrist flashing to life at her words.
Rika found herself abruptly upended and stunned, the combination spell leaving her dazed on the ground.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Leila said, bending over the downed woman with concern etched into her face.
Rika, however, was laughing. At least as much as a stunned woman could, given the magic still immobilizing her.
“Now that’s more like it,” she said, shaking off the spell and slowly sitting up.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve had worse,” Rika replied. “She didn’t make me a killer in a day, after all.” A dark shadow flashed across her face as the memory of what had been done to her paid an unexpected visit.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge any of that up.”
“Leila, it’s not your fault. What happened, happened, and I’ve got to live with that. And part of that process is learning to talk about it. To accept it. I don’t have to like it, but I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, you know?”
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
“Good. So we’re cool. This wasn’t anything on you. It’s just she messed with my head, and every so often, well...”
“I understand.”
“Thanks, Leila,” she said, taking her offered hand and getting to her feet. “And besides, it wasn’t all bad.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, I mean it. I mean, the torture and mindfuck weren’t cool, but I came out the other side intact, miraculously, and I’ve got the residual benefit of having retained pretty much all of that skill set she embedded in here,” she said, tapping her head. “So while some memories are bad, others are useful. It’s a trade-off, is all,” she said, mopping her forehead and neck before peeling off her soaked sweatshirt. Leila caught a brief glimpse of a nasty bruise wrapping around her left rib cage before she slipped into a clean top.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little sore is all. You?”
“I feel great.”
It was true. They’d worked up a good sweat, and the exercise felt fantastic. Leila’s energy levels were topped off from the excitement of sparring. Rika, on the other hand, was moving a little slower.
“Electrolytes?” Rika asked, offering her sparring partner a pouch.
“Are these the salty/sweet things?”
“Yeah. Glucose to help it absorb into your system faster––we call it an isotonic solution––and electrolytes to keep your muscles and nerves all happy after you sweat all of them out.”
“Then yes. Thank you,” Leila said, taking the beverage and sipping the odd concoction.
Rika studied her quietly for a moment. “Leila, I’m sorry to ask, and I hope it’s not inappropriate, but with everything such a jumble in my head, I was wondering. Did Charlie ever say anything about me?”
Leila stopped drinking. “Uh, he did say that he lost his friend not long after he arrived in my galaxy.”
“Right. But nothing else?”
“You mean…?”
“So we weren’t...?”
“Oh. Uh, he said you were just friends. Good friends, but that was all,” Leila replied.
“Oh, thank God,�
� Rika said, relaxing a little. “It’s just he treats me so well despite what happened at the castle, and I know we were friends once upon a time, but I still can’t remember details. If there ever had been something, I didn’t want to accidentally say anything that might make him uncomfortable, ya know? I may not remember that life, but that doesn’t mean I might not go blundering like a fool and put my foot in it, if you know what I mean.”
“I think he would have said something, Rika, so you’re fine.”
“Whew. Thank God. That would be awkward,” she said with a bright laugh. “And besides, you two are disgustingly perfect together.”
“Aww, thank you.”
“I mean it. I just hope one day I’ll find someone who looks at me the way he looks at you.”
Leila pulled her into a tight hug before she could object.
“Hey, what’s that for?”
“For being my friend,” Leila said. And this time, she meant it. “Now come on. We should go clean up before we meet the others.”
“Good call. And Bawb should be there by now. I have a few theories I want to run by him.”
“He’ll be there. I know he’s dealing with some tough things with Hunze frozen, but even with that, he wouldn’t miss two briefings in a row.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ara and Charlie sat quietly perched atop the tallest building in the city, looking out across the clear blue skies, taking in the unobstructed view that spanned from the distant mountains to the east, all the way to the crystal waters to the west. To any passing below, it would almost appear as if a giant gargoyle had been installed on high to guard over the city. And they wouldn’t be entirely wrong.
Since her arrival, the mighty Zomoki had been something of a comforting sight to the sparse population of the reconstructed city. While the war was long past, having a powerful––and quite legendary––new champion, was nevertheless reassuring. And Ara, for her part, had taken to the role.
Of course, flying low, learning every inch of her friends’ new home had also been something she felt a pressing need to do, having been surprised and trapped in an unfamiliar cavern until not so long ago. That had been across the planet, but the memory was still fresh, and Ara was keen to ensure no such surprises would sneak up on her again.
Fortunately, the humans’ solar system possessed a wonderfully powerful sun, and every moment spent under its revitalizing rays healed her in both body and spirit. And now, just as she was finally feeling like herself again, there was some new danger threatening her and her friends.
As for Charlie, his own internal powers were growing rapidly, his blood link to the dragon as strong as ever, some of her magic ability flowing through his veins now as well as her own.
And there was another anomaly. Something about being here, in this place, linked to this man, had somehow increased the speed at which she was absorbing the sun’s power. She had confided this in Cal, the two sharing their theories as to why this might be happening, and he had some interesting hypotheses.
For having just had the existence of magical space dragons proven to him––their being mythological creatures only now disproven with the hard fact of her very tangible presence––the AI was surprisingly flexible in his ability to work his mind around magic-based problems. Most pressing at the moment, however, was finding their invisible enemy.
“They were able to devise a way to observe traces of my power,” she said to Charlie, pensively staring out over the city. “It is imperfect at best, and very limited in range, but the fact remains, if they are able to observe the origin of the power, they can then trace its signature, to an extent.”
“Interesting,” Charlie said, staring out across the hills to the north. “All we need now is to find whoever is doing this, which leaves us pretty much where we already were.”
“I know. But at least it’s a start,” Ara replied.
They sat together quietly, mulling over their options. The problems they faced were many, and solutions were painfully few.
Charlie took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh, coastal air. “You know, last time I was in LA, that would have smelled like exhaust fumes.”
“What are exhaust fumes? I’m afraid this is an aspect of this new world I am yet unfamiliar with.”
“Ah, yeah. Well, those would have actually been from way back in my time. We still used a type of engine that was powered by combustion. It made the air a bit smoggy. Sorry, smog is, I mean was the residual smoke and fumes from those engines. But with the war, and Earth losing so much of its population for so many years, it seems the planet has managed to undo all of the damage mankind had inflicted.”
“Nature finds a way,” the dragon noted.
“That it does. But we certainly didn’t make it easy.”
“So you have said. Non-magical explosions driving a conveyance? I am impressed with your world, Charlie, but I must admit, that does not sound like a terribly efficient means of transit. Or safe, for that matter.”
He laughed. “No, when I say combustion, I don’t mean big booms, but small fires taking place within a closed environment, used to create combustive pressure. And you’re right, it wasn’t the most efficient of things. But, hell, before my day they even used a version of it to launch ships into space.”
“Into space?”
“Yeah. They were basically giant, flying bombs with tiny craft stuck on the tips. And every once in a while, they would blow up before even making it out of the atmosphere.”
“And people would willingly fly in these craft? Yours are a daring, and foolish, people, Charlie.”
“I certainly won’t contradict that,” he said with a chuckle. “But we got past that tech. Eventually, we devised clean, efficient drive systems. And no matter how ridiculous some of our population’s old practices may seem, they’re still my people. Which brings us back to our problem at hand. One of them, anyway. How do we unfreeze them?”
“On that, I am afraid we are still unsure. Even on individual subjects, it has so far been impossible to break the spell––it is an incredibly complex one, and it will take time to devise something that might work, at least on a small scale. But this is global, and the Ootaki hair powering the spell is growing stronger every moment it is in the presence of your world’s sun.”
Charlie paused, a light bulb flashing on in his mind. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Hunze’s gift.”
“What of it?”
“She gave half of her hair to Bob. And the way she gave it.”
Ara cocked her head slightly. “That’s a good point. It is fully charged. Supercharged, even, thanks to this world’s sun.”
“Exactly. And her hair has been here for a lot longer than the stuff in the Asbrú, so it should be exponentially more powerful, despite being a smaller amount. I mean, it was already far more powerful than any other source of magic on the planet, besides you, of course.”
“And if we could devise a manner to incorporate its power into the counterspell––”
“Now we’re on the same page,” Charlie said with a grin. “This just might work.”
“But the Geist is the lone being capable of wielding that hair. It was given out of love, and as such, is bound to him and him alone.”
“Yeah, but he’s a very talented user. Working together, I’m pretty confident we could find a way he could add all of that power to a focused spell. But first things first. We need to unfreeze one person to know it will work. And if you can truly craft a counterspell, then Hunze would be my first choice.”
“Mine as well, but only if I have the highest degree of confidence she will not be harmed should the spell fail. I will discuss this with him when he arrives.”
“He’s still not here?”
“I have not seen him arrive.”
“It’s not like him to sulk around his house. But knowing him, he’s probably planning some violent revenge. I mean, they didn’t hurt Hunze, technically, but they m
ight as well have. And you know how protective he is of her.”
“Oh, yes. Indeed.”
“Yeah. You do not want that assassin angry with you,” Charlie said with a little grin. “I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that retaliation. Someone is going to be having a very bad, and very short, comeuppance. Possibly in several pieces.”
Chapter Twenty
It was quiet. Not soothing, peaceful quiet, but disconcerting quiet.
Several humans, a few four-armed Chithiid, and even a lone, flesh-covered cyborg lay strapped to form-fitting tables made of some strange, self-illuminating material that seemed to be almost like stone, but malleable. And on those devices, they lay. Captives in a smooth, windowless chamber.
All were firmly restrained across their legs and torsos, and were further bound at each wrist. Their bodies were positioned at an incline, unseeing eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The cyborg among them, however, was actively looking around, his head restrained but his eyes free to roam. And roam they did.
Tall, green-skinned men came and went, periodically collecting one of the frozen captives and taking them from the room. When they returned the hapless person some time later, they had been unfrozen from the spell, but remained in a dazed state. They also had a thin blindfold over their eyes. Had he been from another galaxy, the hapless mechanical man would have recognized his green-skinned captors as Tslavar mercenaries.
And he would have been afraid.
The process was repeated every several hours, a different captive taken away, then returned a while later. The reason behind it, however, remained a mystery.
The cyborg watched the comings and goings with great curiosity––at least, as much as he could see with his head strapped firmly in place––taking note of the limited things he could observe. It seemed the strange, green men were releasing the others from whatever kind of ailment had befallen them. But why they all remained restrained, he was unsure.
