by Aer-ki Jyr
He stepped to his left and back a meter, swiped at one far over his head, then ran forward three steps and slashed twice in an up and down ‘V,’ taking three more down. Each of the target’s swivel arms had a resistance setting that could be customized, requiring a specified amount of force to be inflicted in order to collapse them and score a hit…meaning Jason had to be precise in his sword’s movements in order to score successful, repetitive hits.
The sparring room he was in was a clone of the one they’d used in their basic training, but this one was located well away from the trainees in one of many areas reserved for the adepts’ ambrosia-enhanced training. Jason wondered exactly how many training facilities Davis had hidden away inside Atlantis, because they had access to a great deal of locations that he didn’t even know existed a few months ago.
The sparring complex held this and many other chambers for practice, but lately the adepts had been requesting upgrades as they began to explore their capabilities and discovered that the existing training apparatuses were insufficient to the task. Thankfully Davis had anticipated this problem and left many chambers empty so that new facilities could be constructed as needed, but even when designing the new equipment and courses themselves, it was taking the engineers and construction crews far too long for the fabrication.
Sparring in particular was tricky, since it was a man-on-man skill and creating solo training routines required a considerable amount of creativity. This ‘ball chopping’ exercise had been one of their training staples, forcing them to learn to maneuver the sword about quickly and unpredictably, as there was no preferred path to take in downing the targets. The circular room was filled with them, with the idea being to hit as many as possible in the specified time limit, with the downed targets resetting after a few seconds, but slow enough that someone couldn’t camp out in the same location and essentially take batting practice.
Which meant that Jason had to stay on the move, bouncing back and forth across the training field creating a crescendo of chimes that informed him of his rate of success by the intervals. When he was really humming through the course the slightly lingering chimes would overlap, creating a continuous sound. Jason’s goal was to extend that audible chain as long as possible, and to recreate it whenever it flagged.
Normally the time duration was 30 seconds to 2 minutes, but after a few months of ambrosia enhanced training Wilson had been forced to have the system reprogrammed to accept a longer duration, with Jason already working up to 15 minute sessions. As a result he had noticed a considerable strengthening of his arms, adding a bit of muscle in the process but making him feel lighter and more at ease than ever before.
Jason had been spending four hours a day on this and other training drills now that his strength, speed, and skill had equaled or surpassed that of the martial arts instructors that’d been splitting their time between the adepts and the trainees. Now that he was able to best them in sparring matches, his time was best spent pushing his limits where he could until a superior opponent arrived, if ever.
What little actual sparring he did now was against his teammates, which was useful from a skill standpoint, but in order to increase their raw abilities repetition was required…the type that had to come from individual drills against machines that didn’t alter their dynamics as a fatigued sparring partner would.
Which was why Jason and several others who’d focused on sword fighting had been designing an automated sparring machine that they could actually exchange blows with. They’d sent in the basic design parameters over a month ago, but it wasn’t even close to completion, which aggravated Jason. He understood it would take time to develop prototype training equipment, but ever since he’d began ambrosia-enhanced around the clock training, time seemed to have expanded, with him living a month’s worth of experience inside a single day, making the speedy engineering crews seem painfully slow from his point of view.
He didn’t fully realize this and often felt like he was wasting precious hours without the new equipment. Making do with what he had was the next best thing, and he was pleased with his progress on this training drill, having not only extended his time span before his arms would fatigue to the point of sloppiness, but increasing the resistance up to level 10, a good 4 levels above his trainee best.
With the course maximum being 12, they’d already requested an upgrade, knowing they’d need higher settings within a few months at the rate they were progressing. Jason was up to 6 decis of ambrosia per day, and seriously wondering how he had ever survived without the stuff. It wasn’t a replacement for sugar, his consumption of that had been continuously increasing as well, but it was definitely better. He was surprised by how such a small amount affected him, but Jason couldn’t argue with the results.
His body was much hardier with the ambrosia in his system, which would linger for days in the bloodstream until the body’s tissues fully absorbed what it needed, meaning that the perceived ‘effect’ wouldn’t wear off in a predictable amount of time like a sugar rush. It would persist until a need couldn’t be satisfied, resulting in a thirsty feeling, felt not in his mouth but in the rest of his body, especially his arm muscles, given how much sword training he was doing.
Jason wanted to monitor his depletion, so he was taking 5 decis in the morning with breakfast to make sure his system was super-flooded with the ambrosia for reinforcement during the day’s training, much like how a marathoner would carry various gels and concentrated liquids on their person for refueling, but since the ambrosia could be ‘carried’ in the bloodstream he didn’t have to think about it after his initial dose.
After that point he trained hard and long, with part of his purpose being to deplete his reserves as soon as possible. Most days it never occurred, but on occasion he’d start to feel the ‘thirst’ during the last hour of training, which he’d take care of with his 6th deci at supper so his body could use it to recharge during the night. When his training intensified and his body began to deplete itself early on a regular basis was when Jason knew it was time to add another deci, which was something that he worked hard to achieve, because it meant he was advancing up to another ability level in order to require more of the ambrosia.
This current training drill certainly depleted the strength in his arms, and to a some extent his torso, but as far as an overall body drain it didn’t rank very high, so his ambrosia usage was actually lagging behind those adepts focusing on running, with Morgan, Kevin, and Jace all having reached 10 decis, or a full dose, by now. That miffed him a bit, but the sword training was important to him, not only because of the ass kicking the Black Knight had given him and the others, but with the creation of the stun implements martial arts was going to play a more prominent role in warfare and Jason wanted to be as much of a badass in that department as possible.
The one good thing about the sword training was that he was getting to use an actual sword now…no more short stun sticks. Whereas the equipment was limited for the trainees, now that they’d advanced to adepts they had access to whatever they wanted, and Jason had fallen in love with the stun sword the moment he picked one up. Unlike the Black Knight’s super long version, the one he held in his hand now seemed to be the perfect length, a combination of reach and leverage that he could employ single handed or two handed with ease, with him splitting his training time evenly between wielding one blade and two.
Jason started to notice a little fatigue creeping into his arms just before the 15 minute end tone sounded, startling him as he wouldn’t have guessed that much time had expired. He glanced up at the hit counter and the new personal record of 1054, then flexed his arms experimentally as if the score was no big deal. He didn’t feel any soreness creeping in, which meant he was probably good for another round.
He walked outside the training room into the large gymnasium-like open area that housed several sparring rings and open air training zones and linked all the sparring chambers together. Several trainees were working with each other on the
mats with hand to hand drills, also waiting on new equipment to be installed for that discipline. Four more were sparring with swords and stun sticks, working on developing hard to hold, awkward blocks by strengthening their muscles through hundreds of repetitions of the same move…very boring, but it was required to trigger the body’s adaptation.
Variation might burn calories and be ‘entertaining,’ but it killed adaptation when the muscles were required to adapt in conflicting ways, which was why many of the running-focused adepts were eschewing swimming. Those focusing on swimming still ran for cross training purposes, but the runners had discovered during their basic training that swimming workouts left them feeling out of sorts when running until their bodies readjusted…so in order to push their running skills farther and faster, they needed to keep their muscle ‘memory’ focused on the task at hand.
Jason was a decent swimmer, but he hadn’t chosen to develop those skills at the moment, choosing instead running and agility to focus on, and combined with his sparring the threesome of activities seemed to complement each other. He kept his runs short and hard, which helped with the quickness motif that they all shared, whereas others were running high mileage and eating up the laps hour after hour.
“Finished?” Erin asked from behind him, working on a resistance machine that had a bungee-tethered sword with six variable positions.
“I think I may get one more in today,” he said, trading spots with her. “My arms aren’t feeling it yet.”
“I’ll be one more and done,” she promised, heading inside.
“No rush,” he assured her, placing his feet on the appropriate markings on the mat and picking up the sword. He swung it forward on his right side, feeling the resistance mount as the tethers stretched until a tone sounded. He released pressure and swung backwards effortlessly, tapping a reset counter then swinging forward again smoothly and pushing into the bungees rather than using momentum to reach the required distance.
He got through four minutes of the form strengthening drills until he noticed someone coming in through the main doors hefting a giant duffel over his right shoulder.
Jason stopped immediately, almost dropping his sword. The man was clearly not any of the adepts, and given the fact that these areas were reserved for them and them alone made his presence immediately noticeable. All the others in the main yard stopped what they were doing and watched as the 7 foot giant walked toward them.
Jason knew it was the Black Knight from the data file they’d been given, but they’d never seen him outside his armor and hadn’t bumped into him at all since the Final Challenge several months ago. All of a sudden a creepy feeling began to make its way up his spine.
The feeling intensified when Vermaire’s eyes landed on him and the man headed towards him.
Jason held his ground but dropped the sword, stepping a few feet away from the device just in case he needed to run or dodge. All of their previous meetings had been for the purpose of kicking their asses, and he couldn’t shake the sensation that it was about to happen again.
When the armorless Black Knight got within ten meters of Jason he stopped and pointed his long arm directly at him, then thrust his finger towards the sparring rings.
Jason studied him for a moment then wordless walked over to where he had pointed and grabbed one of the sparring swords from the nearby rack. It was a duplicate of the actual stun swords, but without the stunning mechanism, balanced with the same weight distribution for training purposes.
The giant slung his duffel off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor with a loud metallic ‘thunk’ then walked over and grabbed his own sword from the rack, making it look pathetically short in his hands compared to the long sword he normally used. Without a word he set himself back on his left foot and pointed the tip of the blade towards Jason…and waited.
Swinging his sword about lazily, Jason started to circle him, wondering what this was about but glad he finally had a chance to face him outside of his armor and without having to defend against a one hit disabling stroke. He was also keen to see how much his skills had advanced…before he could hardly last ten seconds against the man.
Deciding to leave caution behind he suddenly stepped forward and swung forward with an overhead stroke, then cut it short and redirected into an upright block anticipating a return swing from his opponent.
He guessed right, but the blow came so fast and hard that his sword got bounced to the side and he almost lost his grip…but to his surprise the Black Knight didn’t press his advance. Instead he held his ground and waited for Jason to try again.
So that’s how it is…
Up for the challenge, Jason jumped back towards him and exchanged three quick blows, but had his sword knocked down and out of his hands, landing at his feet as the silent giant waited for him to pick it up again.
By now all the other adepts in sight had gathered around the circular ring, watching intently as Jason tried a third time, lasting five blade crossings before his sword got knocked aside and flew towards Mark, who deftly caught it by the hilt and tossed it back to Jason, who instantly began walking a circle around his opponent, looking for a weakness to exploit.
Vermaire slowly rotated to face him, exposing the back side of his pure white trainer’s uniform to the others, who had to reign in their urge to strike at the opening. He’d gotten in their heads so much over the past two years that they had instantly gone into combat mode the moment he walked into the training area.
Jason stepped forward, slashed once, then went on defense, backing up quickly and not trying to strike the larger man. He focused solely on blocking or diverting the return strikes, finding that he could successfully block a few, whereas in the past his strength had never been up to the task.
What horrified him, though, was the speed at which the man was moving his blade. Jason had expected the speed gap to have decreased with the ambrosia-enhanced training he’d done, but the reverse was happening. He could barely see the man’s sword move, let alone get his guard up in time. Even playing hard to get, backing up and moving around the ring defensively, Jason only lasted 20 seconds at best, trying multiple times before the Black Knight had had enough and held up his hand, palm first, indicating that they were done, then he walked back over to his duffel and opened it.
He pulled out another sword, identical in size and coloration, then replaced the other into the rack, then took up a guard position and motioned for Jason to try again.
Jason rubbed his tongue against the inside of his teeth distractedly, unsure what he was up to, then tentatively struck at him again, backing up instantly to cover himself…but the return strike came slower, enough to be clearly visible, and Jason deflected the powerful blow to his left successfully.
The next few blows came quickly, but Jason was able to keep up…barely. The round lasted a good 45 seconds before an intricate wrist flip knocked the hilt out of Jason’s hand and the Black Knight won again, flipping his new sword around in a flourish and reversing his grip on the hilt so that he held it blade down, then readied himself again as Lens tossed Jason’s sword back to him.
Fighting an inverted blade was different, but not something that Jason was completely unaccustomed with. His experience lasted him 20, 15, and 25 seconds in the next three truncated sparring matches before the Black Knight raised his hand again, signaling him to stop.
Then, unexpectedly, Vermaire twisted the sword in his hand until it was level with his midsection and grabbed the end of the blade with his other hand and offered it to Jason, bowing forward a bit in the process as he stared the adept in the eye.
“Train with these if you want to increase your speed,” he said, handing Jason the sword and walking away.
Jason nearly dropped the thing, surprised by both him speaking and by the mass of the sword. It was more than twice the weight of the originals and put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on his wrist when he took it in a one handed grip, watching the Black Knight leave them be…this time
without rendering them unconscious.
“That…was odd,” Andy said, stepping up beside Jason as he watched the giant leave, not taking his eyes off him until he was out the doors.
“His sword is heavy…and he was still faster than me,” Jason said, handing him the sword.
“Wow,” Andy exclaimed, verifying his assessment.
“And here I thought we might stand a chance against him,” Erin said, having joined the spectators late.
“He left his bag,” Lens noted, opening it wide to reveal several other swords.
“Pull them out,” Jason ordered, wondering what else he’d left them.
“Eight swords, two stun sticks,” Lens counted, “and four…what are these?”
“I think they screw together,” Erin said, seeing the subtle corkscrew ridges on the end of two of the long handled swords.
“Double-bladed,” Jason said even before Lens got the first two assembled into one very long rod with the hilts combining at the center.
“These’ll definitely make the arms burn,” Andy said, swinging one of the singles around experimentally.
“I think that’s the point,” Jason said, glancing at the door where he had left through. “Has he been watching us?”
“Well, he knew you were the best one here,” Erin pointed out.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed sheepishly. “Means we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”
“That,” Lens said slowly, “was painfully obvious.”
8
July 14, 2045
When Paul got to the last lap of his 3rd 10k of the day he didn’t speed up, but merely followed the green 7:10 pace marker to the completion of his run, happy to finish off his long day of workouts but still peeved about his inability to solve the naval riddle. The drone schematics that they’d sent on to Davis would keep the engineers and shipyards busy for a long time, so the perceived time crunch was gone, but he didn’t appreciate the ongoing failure…especially when the answer seemed to be hovering just out of reach in the recesses of his mind.
