Elements (Tear of God Book 1)
Page 14
A girl sat across from them. Her straight black hair hung heavily down most of her slouched back. Her pale skin made her appear both feminine and slightly ill. She looked up at Mink as he took his seat on the bench, and he noticed that her sea green eyes held tenderness and compassion. Mink had never seen eye color so light before.
“Now we have all of the Guide Cell together,” Alré announced, scanning the group. “Tralé, Mouké, Sapo, and Mink: you are my campers. Our job is to blaze a trail for the rest of the Team to follow. Tralé, you will take Mink on your scooter. Mouké, you will take me on yours. Sapo, you will Slip Skate in-between. Keep that formation whenever we travel.
“The Scout Cell will be right behind us, with two Soil users to help flatten the road we make, as well as to maintain Tralé and Mouké’s energy when necessary. Sapo, as a Water user, will also assist in keeping up their strength, but her main function will be to immobolize any hostile groups we encounter long enough for the Strike Cell to respond.
“We are under cover of a camping trip.” Alré spoke on, finally alluding to the function of the youth group. “Sapo, wait until I give the order before targeting anyone who might pose a threat. It’s my job to command our Cell and communicate with Sergeant Makunam. Mink’s job is to point us in the right direction. Now, please introduce yourselves and tell us something about what you do. Starting with you, Sapo.”
Sapo stood, towering over Alré at a height of at least seven feet tall. She waved to the group with elongated hands and fingers that could grab Mink’s head like a piece of fruit. Her lips hardly moved when she spoke, and her voice was so quiet that Mink thought at first she was talking to herself.
“Hi, I’m Sapo. I’m nineteen years old. I work as an irrigator at the Sekmet Ranch. It’s fun, I guess. They’re nice people and I like what I do. It feels important. When I’m not working, I like to paint. That’s about it.” Sapo sat down and stared self-consciously off in the distance.
“Sapo’s being modest.” Alré reached up to put a hand on Sapo’s shoulder. “She is ranked as the second best Water user under twenty-five and is the highest paid irrigator in Floth, doing the work of ten people.”
Sapo flushed and looked down, letting her hair hide her face. Mink opted to go ahead with his introduction and help her recover from her embarrassment. He stood.
“I’m Mink Jolle. I haven’t found my Elemental affinity yet.”
Tralé threw a look at Mouké while pointing at Mink. “It’s him!” Mouké just smiled back and elbowed his brother. Sapo looked away from Mink and was either giggling or about to sneeze, he couldn’t be sure.
Undaunted, he continued, “But, I am the only person to ever attend Riverpark High that got an ‘A+’ on Mr. Gusky’s Reactionary Strategies Exam.” Tralé and Mouké took note and became noticibly more curious. “I’m at a post-graduate weapons proficiency. I don’t really know what kind of job I’ll get, but I was thinking about—”
“Mink’s getting a little carried away,” Alré interrupted and abruptly spoke for him. “The only reason he’s here is because he has been to our destination site. Moving on to Tralé.”
Mink dropped to his seat while Tralé rose and nodded. “Tralé Penbik. Twenty-one. I design and make buses for Grenk. I’ve won the Cross Octernal Invitational twice and I plan on racing again this year. Glad to meet everyone.”
Tralé had barely sat before Mouké stood. “I’m his brother Mouké. I’m an architect until I finish up my doctorate. Then I’ll try to teach at the University level. I don’t race so that Tralé can win. I’m engaged and will marry in a few months. For now, I’m just working and studying.” Mouké sat.
Mink felt completely out of place. No mental achievement or level of ability with weapons mattered in the company of these young Elemental geniuses. Friendless among strangers, now all he wanted to do was keep his head down, point the group in the right direction, and be reunited with his parents as soon as possible.
“Now.” Alré sat between Mink and Sapo. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.” She searched the group expectantly.
Mink had nothing but questions. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. With any luck, someone else would ask the same ones. But no one wanted to go first. Were they all accepting of this arrangement? Did they come willingly?
Mouké finally broke the silence. “How long are we supposed to be gone?”
“Six to seven days.”
Tralé let out a frustrated sigh. “This ‘camping trip.’ What’s it to you? A training exercise? Recruitment?”
“Of course I can’t speak for the rest of the army, but personally, it’s the worst babysitting gig I can imagine,” Alré retorted with restentment as she examined a paper set before her.
“Ah. Refreshing perspective,” Tralé quipped before clamming up.
Sapo spoke next. “Are we leaving soon? I want to go.”
Alré maintained her raspy, matter-of-fact tone. “Very soon.”
ACTUALLY, THEY sat for nearly an hour with nothing more to do than watch the pavilion fill up. Mink had reached into his bag for a music crystal, but was thwarted by a no-rooting order from Alré. The solitary interesting moment was when Blin showed up with someone Mink took to be Lieutenant Jannri. Tolrin did not look happy with Blin, but Blin puffed up with pride. That morsel of entertainment fizzled and everyone eventually took seats at one table or another. Mink resigned himself to passing the time by shifting different muscles of his legs and butt.
Finally, Alré stood and looked off in Tréa’s direction, nodding. “It’s time to go. Tralé, Mouké, are your scooters prepped?”
“Waiting right over there.” Tralé gestured to where they were parked in the shade of a thick-trunked tree whose branches had been bent by a Wood user, up and over the roof. One was black with silver tribal swirls, and on the other, new-growth green modestly accented a warm white base. Both of them had a four-foot board for the driver to stand on, which curled up at one end like a wave cresting just above waist level.
Alré marched her Cell to the scooters, Tralé claiming the black one and Mouké heading for the white. Tralé’s scooter had deep Air grooves and a squat, racing look while Mouké’s was more the smooth, broad cruiser.
“Aht-tat-tat. Secure your packs on the wagon first,” Alré corrected before they got settled.
Mink followed the others to a huge Wooden wagon, which was parked at the edge of the trees since it couldn’t fit beneath them. It was a natural dark hue absent of any seams or joints, a strong indication that it had been Materialized all at once by a highly skilled user. Six large runners supported its bulk, but the flatbed was low enough that Mink could easily reach over the side rails to place his pack. A broad-shouldered woman climbed into the bubble-shaped cabin, wearing riding gloves that inversely exposed four of her fingers for Unification, and covered the thumbs. This wagon was easily the size of two buses side by side, and yet she was going to drive it herself, hauling everyone’s gear!
Mink turned back toward the scooters, recollecting Tolrin’s comment that the army had all the Wood users it needed. Mink felt sorry that Dreh had missed out on this mission for not being on the same level as the Wood users he had seen so far. Dreh had been at the top of his class since fourth grade and still didn’t make the cut. Being without an Element of his own, Mink lived vicariously through Dreh’s acheivements, and took his friend’s absence personally.
He caught up with the Cell as Tralé and Mouké stepped onto their scooters. They stood in a sideways driving position with backs turned to one another. Tralé gloved his left hand, and Mouké his right. Mink wondered how they planned to steer single-handedly. Then he noticed that their pinkies, as well as their thumbs, were exposed for Unification with the scooter, allowing for balanced pressure to steer. These two were on a whole new level of control.
Tralé pointed Mink to one end of his scooter, where ledges on the board’s edge were located at the base of the upperward curved portion. “Put your feet on those.
And hold on here.” Mink looked up to the top of the wave-like crest where a couple of scoops served as handles. “Let me know if you need adjustments,” he added.
Mink mounted the scooter, hugging the outside of the upward curve. To his great surprise, it supported him very well under and inside of his thighs, as if he were on a seat. Yet, wasn’t he supposed to be facing the other way? The scooter’s design made him believe he was a hood ornament.
“It’s perfect. Only, how will I see where we’re going?”
Tralé thumbed to the open side of the board opposite Mink. “That’s the front,” he informed in a patronizing tone.
Mink nodded dumbly, then looked over at Alré, positioning herself on the other twin’s scooter. Mouké had removed his glove and was busy Manipulating the curved portion to accomodate Alré’s elongated form. Sapo spoke her Slip Skate chant in the elided manner of a Water user,
“My feet slide on a Water flow.
Gracefully, I glide where I want.
My hips control the direction.
The Water under foot remains.
The side of my foot slows me down.
I feel no friction to slow me.
My Water enhanced by Spirit.
Rush me around upon my spit.”
Having implemented the effect by spitting on the ground, Sapo played her feet back and forth, watching them with her hands deep in her pockets. Slip Skate couldn’t keep up with a Wood user’s Sledding speed, which meant that it would take them longer than anticipated to reach Mink’s parents on Rift Ridge. Water users couldn’t have prolonged contact with Wood, as it sapped their energy. So it wasn’t as if the twins could give her a lift.
“Ready,” Mouké confirmed to Tralé.
Standing on the board, Tralé placed his hand atop the curved portion of his scooter, right in front of Mink’s face. He watched as Tralé’s thumb and pinky turned to Wood and slipped into the crest. Simply being connected to Tralé’s power, Mink could tell that the scooter felt lighter, as if it were Imbued with an Air user’s Featherweight effect. That couldn’t have been the case though, because it was Tralé’s touch that seemed to cause the change. Mink racked his brain for any possible way to explain the sensation with only one of Tralé’s hands connected.
“Mink,” Alré called. “I will give the directions until we get through Etersna’s western gate. Once we reach the forest, you’ll continue in the same fashion. Listen and learn.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m just along for the ride at the moment.”
Alré guided them to the main road, heading west out across the Eternsa Prefecture with the rest of the groups following in order. They traveled uneventfully for some time. The Penbik twins struggled to stay slow enough to avoid pulling away from the group. Alré forced them to match Sapo’s speed, while Sapo entertained herself by Slip Skating backwards.
Mink watched the rolling pastoral hills of Eternsa’s landscape slide by, pondering how the next few days would go, and imagining what it would be like to see his parents again. His reverie was broken about an hour into the trip by the cacophonous sound of Blin, Nylki, and two other Lightning users running by on Flash Feet, presumably on an errand to the next checkpoint. Tralé and Mouké traded quiet smiles, giving Mink the sense that they wanted to play catch-up.
“Are we going to have a problem?” Alré asked, noticing the exchange.
“No, ma’am,” they replied together, returning their attention to the stretch of road ahead.
By the time the border gate came into view, Sapo looked a little worn out. The twins had both taken a knee on the flatboard of their scooters, propping their chins on their free hand. Mink yawned and looked over at Alré, who was engaged in a Silent Signal Fire chat, chuckling. Mink thought it unfair that she was allowed to jabber away in her mind while the rest of them had to ride in silence.
She directed them through the gate and off to a grassy field where temporary bleachers sat beside a long table covered in white linen. From an assortment of glass serving containers, Mink could smell the floral sweetness of typical Eternsa fare. At this point in the day, anything fresh would whet his appetite. Alré pointed out a spot for the twins to park. They wasted no time pulling up and yanking their hands free.
“Go make yourselves a plate and find a seat on the front-right of the bleachers.” Alré dismounted and stretched before speedwalking to the food. Mink followed suit, passed by Sapo, who was Slip Skating toward an overdue lunch with a vengeance.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Tralé asked Mink as they got to the table.
“Uh, no,” Mink admitted. “My buddy Dreh could take a few lessons in comfort from you.”
“Dreh Hoy?” Tralé smiled broadly. “I know Dreh. Comfort’s not the only thing I could teach him.” Tralé laughed while Mink puzzled over what he found so funny. “I like Dreh.” Tralé grabbed a plate and handed it to Mink before taking one for himself. “It’s a shame I couldn’t show you some real speed. What a snoozefest.”
“Yeah, well. Thanks for the lift anyway, I guess.”
Tralé snorted. “Not like I had a choice.”
Mink filled his plate with a flavorful assortment of flowery rice, boiled root vegetables, sweet soufflé, and crispy dried fruit wedges before taking a seat beside Sapo and Tralé. The bleachers were hastily made and rather uncomfortable, facing only open fields and the Great Barrier Range beyond. Mink tried hard not to stare at a big guy tending to Alré’s scars. Typically, healers made Materialized prosthetics more resistant by adding wet sand to the parts as they formed. But, prolonged use of a Spirit effect was bound to start canceling the repair. The use of Silent Signal Fire must be taking a toll on her Body effect.
“Don’t eat those,” Sapo grabbed Mink’s attention back to lunch, pointing out the vegetables on his plate. “They’re nasty.”
Lieutenant Jannri and Sergeant Makunam walked out in front of the stands, accompanied by a woman who was introduced as Sergeant Holph, head of the Extraction and Transportation Unit. Sergeant Makunam received some brief applause as the head of the Support Unit, and Lieutentant Jannri announced herself as leader of the Command Cell to oversee both Units that made up the overall Tear of God Team.
The top brass detailed the days ahead for the group, seated according to their Cells, and Mink got to hear the upshot of the High Council’s deliberations. The Team sent to get the geode would be led by a small contingent of military personnel, but not in a military capacity. The youth camp facade and slower pace were employed to avoid any Machinist surveillance misconstruing their actions as a declaration of war.
When the Lieutenant finally announced that a Tear of God was the target of their mission, a mixture of reactions circulated in the bleachers. It seemed Mink knew more about what they were doing than did the rest of the ‘campers.’ Tolrin signaled for him to come forward. As he approached the front of the stands, some voices in the crowd started to sing “As the Falling Rain” in an exaggerated off-key. The Corporals barked them back to silence.
Mink forced a laugh and shook his head as the embarrassment flushed in his face. By the time he finished confirming what he knew and where they were headed, nearly everyone was in a heated conversation with the members of their Cell as to the veracity of the information. He felt as if he had lost their attention, but at least they had found resolve.
THE LAST time Mink traveled the wild, grassy plain between the western gate of Eternsa and the forested mountainside, he had sprinted across in minutes. Quick Legs coupled with boost bar had made it feel like one simple step of the journey. This time, wrapped around the back of Tralé’s scooter and digesting three helpings of a military banquet, the forest seemed to remain a distant goal despite their progress. The slower pace also emphasized the roughness of the terrain over which they traveled.
Uneven ground posed no problem for most of the Team, but Alré kept ordering halts to allow the Soil users time to make the way passable for the bulky wagon, which carried the gear and a week’s worth
of provisions for seventy-eight people. After a few of the contents bounced out, Tolrin had encouraged extra precaution, adding hours to the duration of their trek.
The twins had slowed their scooters to a crawl and were tediously watching the wagon lumber up behind them. Alré dismounted, stretched, and shielded her eyes to check on the wagon’s progress.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Sapo offered.
“Not your job,” Alré responded dismissively.
Sapo huffed and Slip Skated a couple of yards ahead to a small basin, probably formed by an ancient sinkhole or crater, covered in tangles of a short runner grass. Mink watched as Sapo circled the edge of the basin, looked it over, and then slid gracefully in. The center was barely three feet deep, and the whole thing couldn’t have been more than six yards wide, but she made the best of it. Mink loved how smooth and poetic her movements were. For all her height and the shallowness of the dip, Sapo managed to get some great hang time Slip Skating up the sides.
“Sapo!” Alré repremanded. “Get back in formation! Now!” Sapo twirled down to the ground and came back between the scooters with one graceful kick. “We need to be ready to start moving the second I say so. This is no place for frolicking.”
Alré’s raspy voice made anything she said come off like admonishment, and she did seem to be reigning Sapo in; still, Mink couldn’t take anyone seriously who used a word like frolicking in her reprimand. He made eye contact with Sapo and quietly applauded her demonstration of skill. She half-smiled appreciatively and rolled her eyes in good humor. Turning around, she got into an exaggerated ready-to-go pose. Alré had already turned her attention back to the wagon.