Sulan Box Set (Episodes 1-4)

by Camille Picott

  No matter what we say or do, Van Deer is going to twist it. It’s clear he wants a shot at Taro. He’d probably get in trouble if he openly challenged him, but in a game of capture the flag, it’d be easy to explain away a dirty punch or kick.

  “I don’t care what Taro wants,” I snap, my mind calculating the best way out of the situation. Van Deer wants to humiliate Taro—or attempt to, at any rate—and he wants me to watch. Taking myself out of the equation is the first step. “I have no interest in watching a bunch of muscle heads run around and beat on each other. I’m leaving. I’ve got better stuff to do.”

  Van Deer bursts out laughing. “A bit of a firecracker, aren’t you?” He gives me another measuring look. “You’re kind of sexy when you’re mad. You sure you want to push your lot in with Hudanus? You could do better.”

  Riska growls again. I squeeze his back, feeling my face heat with anger. Van Deer is jockeying, trying to steer things back in the direction he wants them to go. The boys arrayed behind him all smirk at me.

  “I can make you hot and bothered with your clothes off.” Van Deer gives me a wide grin.

  His jab hits home. Beside me, Taro coils like a snake. His arm swings back as he readies for a punch. Van Deer’s smile only widens as he adjusts his stance.

  I don’t know anything about the codes or rules that exist among teen mercs, but I’m guessing it would be to Van Deer’s benefit if Taro throws the first punch. This is exactly what he wants—an excuse to fight.

  I turn, lifting my arm to stop Taro, but Riska is faster. He vaults from my shoulder and smacks straight into Taro’s wrist. It’s the only thing that keeps his fist from connecting with Van Deer’s face.

  Riska mrows at the impact and somersaults in the air before righting himself. He cuts a sharp one-eighty and shoots back toward Taro. He throws his wings open and lands on Taro’s shoulder. Fur bristled, he bares his teeth at Van Deer and hisses. Acid sprays out of his mouth. Most of it falls short, but a few droplets hit the front of Van Deer’s uniform. Tendrils of smoke drift up from the fabric as the acid eats through the material.

  The merc boy retreats several steps, surprise on his face. He stares down at his uniform, lips parted in shock. I pray the acid won’t reach his skin.

  There’s a moment when I think Taro might be dumb enough to go after him again. He shifts onto the balls of his feet, muscles rippling.

  “Hom!” calls a familiar voice, cutting through the tension and drawing all eyes. “Hom! Where have you been? I can’t believe you’re out here carousing with merc boys when your friends from Virtual High need you!”

  16

  Daruuk

  Daruuk Malhotra, my classmate from VHS, marches across the grass in my direction. Alexi Ivanov, another classmate, trails in his wake.

  I’m ecstatic to see them. They’re the ones leading the VHS Underground movement to sneak back into Vex. Even more importantly, they’ve provided a way to diffuse the tension building between the merc boys.

  Taro takes advantage of Daruuk and Alexi’s arrival by backing down and taking several steps away from Van Deer. He makes the act look casual by scratching Riska on the head.

  At the same time, Van Deer and his merc gang bunch together, forming what looks like a defensive circle. The boys eye Riska warily.

  “Daruuk!” I wave to my friend, pretending the smoke still wafting from Van Deer’s uniform is normal and nothing to be rattled about.

  “So?” Daruuk demands, stomping through the merc kids like they’re not even there. He stops in front of me, hands on his hips. “Where have you been?”

  This is my first look at Daruuk in the real-world. Except for his dark hair being shaggier, he looks identical to his avatar. Alexi’s tall frame is even thinner in the real-world, but he, too, resembles his Vex avatar.

  I don’t let the merc kids know how happy I am to see my friends. “I’ve been tied up,” I reply, shrugging.

  “I need your help. Quantitative Genetics class is killing me.” Daruuk makes a face.

  I suppress a snort, certain Quantitative Genetics is the last thing Daruuk wants to talk about. His specialty is engineering and electronics; he’s never even set foot in a genetics class. No, he wants to talk about the Vex modem he’s building.

  “Sure, I can help you. I was just leaving anyway.” I’m not sure if he’s purposely trying to diffuse the merc showdown, or if this is all a coincidence. It doesn’t matter. It’s an opportunity I can’t waste. “Taro, want to come with me or are you going with them?” I jerk my chin at the merc kids, acting like it makes no difference to me.

  Daruuk blinks, as if only now seeing the hulking teenagers in merc jumpsuits, all them taller and thicker than him and looking ready for a brawl.

  I grab my boots and fall in beside Daruuk and Alexi, further dispersing the tension.

  Van Deer saunters back into the fold of his posse. “Catch you later, Hudanus,” he calls over his shoulder. The promise in his tone is unmistakable.

  Taro grabs his boots and joins my friends.

  “Taro,” I say, “these are my friends from Virtual High, Daruuk and Alexi. Daruuk and Alexi, this is my friend, Taro.”

  “The Muscle boy,” Daruuk grunts.

  “Nice to meet you,” Alexi says, his English laden with a heavy Russian accent.

  Taro nods at the other boys in return. Riska gives him one more hiss before flying back to my shoulder.

  “Sorry to hear about your mom,” Alexi says.

  “She was a noble warrior,” Daruuk says. “I’m building a new wing on my palace in Andala. I shall name it after her.”

  I nod, acknowledging their comments in silence. Though I appreciate their kindness, I’m not ready to talk about Mom to anyone besides Taro.

  The four of us troop out of the park and onto the road. The gravel bites the bottom of my feet. I want to stop and put my boots back on, but the gravel doesn’t seem to bother Taro. I resolve to tough it out.

  “Barely two days in the Dome and already making enemies, huh, Hom?” Daruuk scowls at me. “Don’t you have better things to do? And what is that thing on your shoulder? How did you get one?”

  “So you did see what was going on,” I say, ignoring his questions about Riska. “I wasn’t sure if you just had good timing or if you were helping us on purpose.”

  “That Muscle was itching for a fight.” Daruuk glances at Taro, who stares at the ground in a brooding silence. “What’s your deal, Muscle boy? You got away clean.”

  “My deal?” Taro’s chin jerks up. Anger sparks in his dark eyes. “Did you hear what he said to her?” He gestures at me.

  “That had nothing to do with me,” I say. “He was trying to provoke you into throwing the first punch. Besides, I don’t need you to stick up for me. I can stand up to Van Deer.”

  “He’s dangerous, Sulan.”

  “To you. And only if you’re stupid enough to buy into his insults. He doesn’t want to fight me.” I poke him in the arm. “So stop buying into it.”

  Taro’s opens his mouth to argue with me. Then the anger in his face melts away. “You’re right,” he says, shaking his head. “Just promise me you’ll be careful around him, okay? You don’t want to be on his bad side.”

  “He has a good side?”

  Taro grimaces. “Point taken.”

  “In Van Deer’s eyes, I’m a means to an end. Anything he says to me is an attempt to provoke you. I just need to make sure he knows he can’t push me around. He’ll smell the blood if I don’t stick up for myself.”

  “You’ve got guts,” Taro says. “I’ve never seen a girl—not even a merc girl—square off with him before.”

  The compliment catches me by surprise. I smile up at him, and he smiles back. A warm flush creeps up my neck.

  “If you two are finished gazing into each other’s eyes, we’ve got more important things to discuss.” Daruuk plants himself in front of us, hands on his hips again. “I’ve got a Vex modem and Vex set to build. From scratch. And when
Global moved up the timeline and pulled all of us into the Dome early, components were forgotten, lost, or broken. Hopefully you won’t let me down, Hom. Did you get the ultra-capacitor?”

  “Eh.” I shake my head. “Hank was supposed to get the ultra-capacitor, remember? She knows her way around the inside of a modem—”

  “Hank.” Daruuk growls to himself and mutters several words in a Vex language from a role-playing world. “If I’m not back in Andala in time to stop my idakarin rival from staging a coup, it will be that female’s fault. Do you know what she said to me when I asked her for her contribution to the Underground?”

  I shake my head, although I have a sinking feeling I know what Hank said.

  “She said she wasn’t going to help me build a modem or Vex set. That she had indeed salvaged an ultra-capacitor, but she wasn’t going to give it to me. Because she has to protect her family, which means she can’t break any Global rules.” Daruuk snorts. “Can you believe that? She’s already eating out of Mr. Winn’s hand like a snidalin rat.” He scowls at me. “You’d better not fail me, Hom. I can’t take another betrayal today.”

  “I want access to Vex as much as you do.” It’s my only hope of ever seeing Gun again. “I was supposed to get a goggle, but my mom took my set before I could get it.”

  I flash back to that moment when Mom took my set. I was so angry. I’d do anything to turn back time and undo our fight. Fights. We had so many of them.

  “So how exactly are you going to help us if you didn’t get the ultra-capacitor or the goggle?” Daruuk asks.

  “I got something. I’m just not sure what it is. Do you have time to come back to my house?”

  Daruuk makes a dramatic gesture with both arms. “Lead the way, Hom. I have no doubt Andala will be in chaos when I return. When I restore order, I will be certain to name a significant landscape in my kingdom after you …” Daruuk continues to ramble on extravagantly about his virtual kingdom until we reach my bungalow.

  After making sure Dad isn’t home—not that I really expected him to be—I let the boys inside and lead them into my room. Riska peers over my shoulder as I stick my hand into my spare pair of boots. I pull out a small tube made of metal and glass, a black chip studded with gold circuitry, and a larger tube stuffed with black wires.

  “I grabbed these right before the League attacked,” I say, holding them out to Daruuk. “They were in the pocket of my jumpsuit. The League didn’t search us, and amazingly they didn’t get smashed or broken during …” I trail off as I catch Daruuk’s expression. His nose is wrinkled and both eyebrows are raised. “What?” I demand.

  “You.” Daruuk jabs a finger at me, ignoring Riska’s growl of warning. “You are good, Hom. Damn good.” He grins. “This”—he picks up the black chip—“is a GPU. Crystal failed to secure one for our movement. And this”—he picks up the smaller of the tubes—“is a two terabyte NVRAM chip. I’ve already got one, but I can use this one in a trade with Uncle Zed to get a wireless NIC with built-in encryption. Not as good as the quantum encryption that’s currently out, but it will hide what we’re doing.” He picks up the last tube, holding it up between thumb and forefinger, then unscrews the top part and empties its contents into his hand: a thin PC board with a port of some kind on one end. “This is an X1200L full-duplex transceiver. Essential to our quest. Andrew secured his, but it was broken during transit. You’re good, Hom. I take back what I said before. I’m going to name an entire country after you when I get back to Andala.”

  “And … just when do you think that will be?” I ask.

  Daruuk slips the small electronic components into his pocket. “I can’t provide an exact timeline. Yet. Too many missing pieces I have to make.”

  “Or trade for,” Alexi adds. “We’re missing about half of the components. The Winns really derailed our project when they accelerated the timeline.”

  “The VHS Underground is alive and well,” Daruuk says, dramatically throwing one hand into the air. “We will prevail.”

  “It’s just going to take us longer than we expected,” Alexi adds.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let me know if there is something else I can help with.”

  “Until next time, Hom.” Daruuk bows to me. “Muscle boy.” He nods his head at Taro before marching out the door. Alexi gives us a wave before disappearing after Daruuk.

  “Don’t mind Daruuk,” I say. “He’s a little eccentric. Brilliant, but eccentric. He’s going to cobble together a Vex modem and headset so we can access Vex.”

  “I gathered that.” For an instant, Taro lets down his guard and I see the worry in his face. “You want to contact him again, don’t you?” The worry disappears, replaced by his unreadable mercenary countenance.

  “Gun. His name is Gun.” It takes an effort to keep my voice level. “I need to see him and make sure he’s okay. He risked a lot helping us escape the League.”

  Taro scrubs a hand through his hair. “I know he’s your friend, Sulan—”

  “One of my best friends, Taro.”

  “I know. And he did help rescue us. I just don’t trust him. I’m sorry. I—”

  “Just give him a chance,” I say. “When Daruuk finishes the Vex sets, come into Vex with me and I’ll introduce you.”

  “Somehow I doubt your friend will be willing to let the Muscle boy use one of his sets.”

  I grimace. “Sorry about the name. I told you Daruuk is eccentric. But don’t worry about him. I’ll work something out and get you access. Please? Just give Gun a chance.”

  Taro draws a long breath. “All right. I’ll give him a chance for your sake. Just promise you’ll be careful around him, okay?”

  “Promise.” I don’t add that I don’t need to be careful around Gun. I trust him every bit as much as I trust Taro.

  17

  Prep

  The next day, Kerry introduces us to several new Green Combat prototypes, all of which will be ready for release in the next six months. She reviews the Gavs, Risk Alleviators, and Aircats with us, then segues into other creatures.

  “These are Buggets.” Kerry hands a picture to me. “They’re part tick, part termite, part cockroach, and part sheer genius.”

  “They look like bugs,” I say, peering at the picture of an insect with a shiny gray shell and a nasty set of mandibles.

  “They’re much more than mere bugs,” Kerry says. “They’re biological bullets. Much cheaper than regular bullets. You can buy ten Buggets for the price of one bullet. We’re developing them in different sizes so they can be used in different caliber weapons.”

  “How do they work?” Billy studies the picture when I hand it to him.

  “Any standard gun can be modified to fire them. The creature hibernates within its shell until the blast of gunpowder awakens it—”

  “The blast doesn’t kill it?” Taro asks.

  “The Bugget has been engineered to secrete a titanium shell,” Kerry replies. “Once the blast kick-starts it out of hibernation, it’s ravenous. The gun propels it into the flesh of our enemies, and the Bugget burrows into the target.”

  Silence. All four of us stare at the picture. I imagine that pair of mandibles tearing into my flesh, and shiver. I’d rather get shot with a regular bullet.

  “I see you all appreciate the Bugget.” Kerry smiles. “Global will never lack for bullets. I can’t say the same for our competition. Just six weeks ago, there was a mercenary team in South Dakota that ran out of ammunition while delivering food. They were cornered by a street gang and massacred.”

  She produces another picture and hands this one to Taro. “This is our Bioblaster. It’s cross engineered from a jellyfish, octopus, vampire bat, and a few other tidbits.”

  I lean close to Taro and study the photograph. The creature is a mottled brown-green with tentacles that wrap around the wrist of a human.

  “Each Bioblaster has a symbiotic relationship with a human. It will attack and deliver a paralyzing sting to any other biological life form that thre
atens its human. This gives an edge to all of our soldiers in hand-to-hand combat.”

  “Symbiotic relationship?” Billy says. “What sort of symbiotic relationship?”

  “It draws a small amount of blood from its host every day.” Kerry delivers her signature smile, like the idea of a bloodsucking bioweapon isn’t disturbing. “This allows it to bond with the host, and thus trigger its instinct to protect it from threats.”

  “A vampire jellyfish.” I wrinkle my nose.

  “Sulan, you must avoid such unpleasant countenances when in public.” Kerry collects the pictures from us, puts them into a neat stack, then holds up a picture of a Gav. “Now, from the beginning,” she says. “Hank, tell us everything you know about the Green Attack Vehicles.”

  • • •

  And so the week passes. Our days are spent with Kerry, where we work on our personas and practice answering questions. We are quizzed on Global Green Combat weapons, each of us responsible for knowing every detail about them. Kerry teaches us how to steer the conversations, always prompting us to direct the talk back to Global Arms when possible.

  Hank excels at all this. She’s a complete natural, blossoming under Kerry’s tutelage. She maneuvers difficult questions with the dexterity of a politician, seamlessly finding ways to promote Global at every turn.

  Even if I disagree with the way she’s gone all in with Global, I have to admire her skill. The rest of us stumble along, looking rough and unpolished next to her.

  This is a new situation for me. I’ve always been better than Hank at everything we did in school. Here, in this new world, I’m the one who needs tutoring.

  I decide to make an effort during our sessions with Kerry. I may not like what I’m being forced to do, but I’ll get farther as Mr. Winn’s pet than I will as a rebellious teenager.

  Kerry delivers dazzling smiles as she sees me progressing. This tells me that, at the very least, I won’t look like an incoherent idiot when I’m thrust back onto the virtual stage.