Strikeforce

by Nick James

  The first thing I see is the sky, empty except for a fine mist. It’s a turquoise-type color, altogether different from normal Fringe atmosphere—almost like it’s been raining, except that’s impossible. It hardly ever rains in the Fringes, and certainly not enough to wash out the sky like this.

  I sit up. That’s when I realize that I’m not alone.

  A wide swath of people stand before me in a half circle, staring in to watch me pull myself out of sleep. There are hundreds of them, stretching back farther than I can see clearly. Most I don’t recognize, though the faint green glow around their bodies is overly familiar.

  Drifters. How many did I free when the Pearls exploded? Are they all here now?

  As my eyes adjust to take them all in, several figures in the front rush forward. I hadn’t noticed them specifically until now.

  I stand, though it’s a wobbly start, just as my friends come at me.

  Avery, Skandar, and Eva fight to hug me first. They hit me with gale force, nearly knocking my fragile body to the ground. There are no words exchanged between us. I’m just happy to see them alive. I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

  Alkine’s next, followed by what seems like a parade of Agents, faculty, and teachers from Skyship Academy. Avery and the others part to let them through. I don’t know everybody, but they greet me like I’m their long-lost brother. Hugs, handshakes, words that I barely hear. It becomes a blur. I’m not sure where I am, or how long it’s been since Matigo was ripped apart in front of me.

  I begin to feel weak. Dehydrated and dizzy. A pair of hands grab me from behind and supports me. I turn to see Avery’s face—smiling, but visibly concerned all the while.

  I cough. A shiver runs up my spine. Everything comes flooding back to me. Ridium. The Fire.

  “Cassius,” I manage through coughs. “Is he okay? What happened?”

  Avery moves carefully around so that she can meet my eyes while still supporting me. She looks at me for a moment without speaking, then pulls me close, into her shoulder so I can’t see her eyes. “He’s gone, Jesse.”

  I grab onto her back, nails digging into her skin. “No, no.”

  “He disappeared,” she whispers. “When the fire hit you … he’s gone.”

  I push away from her, staggering to the center of a circle surrounded by friends. Before I can say anything in response, I feel it.

  Something’s changed.

  “Cassius?” I look around me, from face to face, into the sky. I don’t know why I’m like this, how I can think that he’s still here, but I feel him. His familiar presence drifts around me like the mist in the air. I reach out a hand to grab a fist of the stuff. It evaporates as soon as it touches my fingers.

  I turn to face Avery again. “He’s here.”

  “Jesse.” She reaches out to comfort me. “I … I don’t know—”

  “No,” I interrupt, moving back. “He’s here. I can feel him. I … ”

  I don’t know what it is, but every last bit of fear leaves me. I feel like I could do anything. Bring it at me and I’ll take it on.

  It’s an unusual sensation—a completeness, a sense of myself that I’ve never had before. I hadn’t even noticed. Fifteen years and I’d never realized that something was missing. I’d been a piece of something bigger. Half of a whole.

  Pearl energy nears as a Drifter pushes through the wall of people before me. They let him pass without objection. I don’t recognize him, but I sense what he’s going to say before his mouth opens. It’s in English, though at this point I’m not sure it matters.

  He points at me, eyes meeting mine with a focused intimacy.

  “The Key,” he starts, keeping his finger completely still, aimed right at my chest. “And the Catalyst.”

  At that moment, I know exactly what’s happened. There isn’t a shred of doubt in my mind, though it’s almost impossible to fathom.

  Cassius hadn’t disappeared in battle. He, like all of us—like every creature on this or any other planet—is energy. He became the fire that streamed inside of me. He’s here now, a part of me. We’re not brothers. We never were. I am him and he is me. Light and dark. Strong and weak. Brave and fearful. Slacker and student.

  We’d been running around all our lives, neither of us complete without the other. Two sides of a coin. Matigo knew he had to kill us both. Get rid of one and the other becomes stronger. We’re strong, now. I’m strong.

  But it never could have happened if Cassius hadn’t had the guts to take that leap of faith. He could’ve stopped the fire from coming—cut it off before it took him with it. Could I have done the same?

  I don’t know. But now … now I can do anything. He’s here. With me. I’m more than I’ve ever been before.

  I turn back to Avery, smiling. I can tell from her expression that she doesn’t understand. It doesn’t matter. No one will understand completely. I just hope Cassius—whatever part of me that he is now—knows what he’s done.

  The Resistance has won, but it’s bigger than that. The world is new. The world is good. And I’m ready to make it even better.

  53

  A week later.

  It’s a different country down there.

  With the Tribunal killed in the sinking of Skyship Atlas and the Unified Party dismantled by the Authority, there’s a vacuum of power in America.

  Skyship Academy, in a bizarre twist of fortune, is the largest operational Skyship in the world, not that that won’t change once human resilience kicks in.

  But we’re not just human anymore. More than a thousand Drifters have joined our ranks on planet Earth. Without the glow from Pearls around them, they pass easily amongst the rest of us. In a perfect world, there would be more. Pearls wouldn’t have been destroyed so freely for so many years. As it stands, they’re welcome refugees. In several decades, I suspect their legacy will dim. As they interbreed with the rest of us, the memory of Haven will become less of a reality and more of a fable.

  But their presence now, combined with the fact that we’re king of the skies in a war-torn nation, has every set of eyes on us. Alkine’s been in meetings all week with those that are left of the ruling elite from the Skyship Community and the Unified Party. The way that things are playing out, I’m not sure either of those government labels will have much meaning in the New World.

  Pearls are gone. I exploded every last one of them back in Kansas. There are no more Drifters coming, and no more energy we can suck from the skies. Skyship Academy floats solely on our backup sources—a mix of solar and biomass. I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to stay aloft this way without Pearls, but the very working existence of our ship is symbolic to everyone on the Surface. We’ll keep it going as long as we can.

  The Surface.

  The massive Pearl explosion in the Fringes was enough to fundamentally alter the atmosphere, kind of the same way the Scarlet Bombings changed it so long ago. The green mist has faded from the skies since then, but the Fringes are starting to stabilize. You can’t really tell by standing outside. It still feels as hot as it always was. But our scientists have been taking readings. There’s something new in the air. The winds of change, if you wanna get all poetic about it. Maybe in a few years we won’t need things like Bio-Nets or Skyships anymore. It’s too early to tell.

  I leave that to Alkine and the others, for now. What was left of the Ridium summoned by Matigo’s Shifters has repositioned itself underground. I’m fairly confident that I could Shift it like Cassius could, but I’m not sure I want to bring up the idea to anyone but myself. After hearing how Haven fell apart, I don’t think Ridium—like Pearls—is the answer to anything. There are no easy answers. All they do is get you in trouble. To make things fall into place and stay there, you have to work at it.

  Cassius is teaching me that.

  I feel him inside my consciousness now, as I stand at the edge of Lookout Park, protected by the enormous dome overhead. Behind me stretches Skyship Academy’s main tower. I know Alkine’s up there
now, probably pacing. I’ll leave him to it. My worries are over, at least for the time being.

  In front of me lies our makeshift monument—a giant semicircle of found objects, flowers, and notes, erected as a tribute to those who lost their lives in the final battle against Matigo.

  I had been so focused on my own struggle that I hadn’t noticed the chaos around me. Before I managed to defeat the Authority, the battle had not been going in our favor. There were numerous casualties. Some Fringe, some Skyship. All significant.

  In the hours since, friends and loved ones have dredged up items from the dorm rooms of the fallen. Stuffed animals, photos, books, clothing—anything that serves as a reminder. A few students gather together several yards from me, their heads bowed in silence.

  I clutch Cassius’s communicator in my hands, the same one I’d used to talk to him back when we’d been separated. Before Matigo. Before Theo, even. In the few short months that I knew him, this old, clunky communicator was our closest link. In some ways, I knew him better as a voice on the other end than as an actual person.

  I run my fingers over the speaker at the bottom of the device, then crouch and set it amongst the rest of the objects.

  He’s not really gone. I just don’t need the communicator anymore. And he deserves some physical reminder, if only so that others onboard will recall him as a hero, rather than the Unified Party Pearlhound that hijacked a Skyship transport and broke into the Academy.

  It should feel strange, sharing my consciousness like this. Instead, it feels completely natural. Before the battle with Matigo, I’d second guess myself with every step. Now, the world seems simpler. Everything that used to be an obstacle is now a challenge. Slight difference, but an important one.

  A hand touches my shoulder. I turn quickly, on alert.

  “Whoa, there.” Avery pulls away.

  “Oh.” I meet her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you behind me.”

  She smiles. “I’ve always been good at sneaking around.” Her gaze falls on the communicator. “Is that what I think it is?”

  I nod. “It didn’t seem right … having this monument set up without anything for Cassius. I mean, it’s not like he’s gone—”

  “Yeah,” she interrupts. “You’re gonna have to explain that one to me again.”

  “I’m just figuring it out myself.” I point to my chest. “But he’s in here. We’re together.”

  Her lips purse. “A little strange, Fisher.”

  “It should be,” I reply. “But somehow it’s not.”

  I grab her shoulder and pull her close.

  “Wow.” She lays a hand on my chest. “Aren’t you aggressive?”

  “Sorry.”

  She chuckles. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, did I?”

  “It’s a new beginning. Everything’s changed, Avery.” I pause. “I never believed in destinies or anything. For so long, I thought that if I just knew my parents … found where I fit … that everything would turn out okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupts. “I know how badly you wanted to see them.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not sure it was about them at all. This needed to happen. This was all part of the plan. I can see it now. Everything feels right.”

  She pulls away, looking down at the memorial. “I can’t believe it’s all over. The Authority, gone. Madame, gone. What are we gonna do with ourselves, Fisher?”

  “I can think of a few things.”

  Her brows rise. “That was such a Cassius thing to say.”

  I shrug.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re happy.” She smiles. “You deserve it, after all you’ve been through.”

  “And you’re okay.” I squeeze her arm. “Thank god you’re okay.”

  She laughs. “Are you kidding? It takes more than an alien invasion to take me down. You of all people should know that, Fisher!”

  54

  This is it.

  I head down the Level Five corridor on my way to the training facility, fingers balled at my sides.

  There are marks all over the walls here—scratches and pulverized craters of metal where Matigo first attacked after revealing himself. I’m sure Alkine will order them fixed once everything else has settled down. For now, they’re a reminder of what I’ve overcome—what I’ve survived.

  During my first training year at the Academy, I’d have never imagined living through so much. I’d have fainted at the first sight of trouble—tripped and gotten myself killed. It seems a lifetime ago.

  I stop outside the doors to the training room, hesitating for just a moment before pressing the button and watching them spread open in front of me.

  The last time I played a round of Bunker Ball, I ended up unconscious. Eva of all people had to help me up from the ground—save me, practically.

  I can’t help but chuckle at the thought of it. No wonder she considered me a wimp back then. I had no self-confidence, no drive to do anything but avoid challenges. The very thought of something outside of my comfort zone made me queasy. I laughed it off, deflected every bit of doubt by telling myself that it was the world that was fighting me, not the other way around.

  Cassius would have never done that. I’m not going to do that now.

  I step through the door onto the Bunker Ball field. It’s laid out the same way it was the last time I played the game, before I knew anything about my powers or destiny.

  The metal floor gives way to sand. I stand in the middle of a battlefield of dunes and portions of brick wall, which jut from the floor like teeth. Boulders form plenty of hiding places around me, but I’m not planning on hiding this time.

  I never knew what my body was capable of until now. It’s like all the potential was there, but I’d placed a block on it. My brain had literally handicapped me. The constant doubt and fear crippled my chances of being what I’d always wanted to be.

  I walk up a lengthy dune and meet the others in the center of the field.

  Avery, Eva, and Skandar stand there, decked out in full Bunker Ball mode. Straps filled with detonators wrap around them like sashes. It’s three against one.

  Just the way I like it.

  Eva smiles as soon as she sees me. “The field looks smaller, doesn’t it, Fisher?”

  I nod. She’s right. After fighting in the Fringes, there’s really no comparing. Everything, from the sand dunes meant to slow us down, to the detonators with their dull sting upon exploding, seems like a child’s game.

  Avery’s brows rise. “You really think you can take all three of us at once?”

  I smile. “I could take on five more, if you’re interested.”

  Skandar laughs. “Whoa, mate. You sure this is you talking?”

  I grab a detonator from my belt, taking a step back. “What’s all this waiting around, anyway? I’m ready to kick some butt.”

  Eva crosses her arms. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you not to hesitate.”

  I toss the detonator in the air and catch it. “The days of hesitation are long gone, Rodriguez.”

  “That’s a challenge if I’ve ever heard one.” She smirks.

  Avery takes a deep breath. “Just promise me one thing, Fisher. Now that you’re a … a … ”

  “Warrior?” Eva interrupts.

  “Sure,” Avery says. “Now that you’re a warrior, don’t lose that kid I fell in love with in the first place.”

  I meet her eyes. I’ve realized these past few days that she’s my anchor. She’s the true, devoted place that Cassius never had. Maybe that was his block.

  I nod.

  “Okay, then.” She laughs. “Let’s get this over with. I’m starving.”

  I watch her sprint away, probably to hide before attacking.

  Eva moves to join her. I grab her arm. “Don’t hold back,” I say. “You too, Skandar. Come at me with all you’ve got. We … I mean, I … can take it.”

  Eva nods, teeth grit. “Thirty seconds and the game begins. You better go find a rock to cower behind
.”

  With that, they’re both off. I stand alone for a moment, strategizing. I’m not worried about the clock. Not concerned with when they’ll come at me or how fast. I draft numerous attacks in my head. Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, D, E, F … all the way down the line. I’ve never thought like this before, never even used this part of my brain. It’s liberating.

  No matter how they choose to do it, I’ll do it better. I know this in my gut. I’m unstoppable.

  When I’m ready, I turn, offering my back to them. With ten seconds left, I sprint down the sand dune, jumping on top of the nearest boulder with a full view of the field. I’m unprotected. It’s a leap of faith, standing here in the open.

  The warning chimes begin to sound. Five seconds. Three.

  I take a deep breath and center myself. My arm shakes with anxious energy. I can’t wait to let loose. It’s like a bridle’s been stuck around my body and I’m about to tear it off. It’s uncomfortable. I need to move. I need to fight.

  The alarm goes off, signaling the start of the game. My fingers tense as I grab a detonator from my belt. It warms with the touch of my skin. The metal feels powerful, gripped tightly in my hand.

  I barely have to think. They come at me, all at once.

  I attack.

  © Emma James

  About the Author

  When he was a young boy, Nick James’s collection of battle-scarred action figures became the characters in epic storylines with cliffhangers, double crosses, and an unending supply of imaginary explosions. Not much has changed. The toys are gone (most of them), but the love of fast-paced storytelling remains. Working in schools from Washington State to England, Nick has met thousands of diverse students since graduating from Western Washington University and braving the most dangerous job in the world: substitute teaching. Luckily, being dubbed the “rock star teacher” has granted him some immunity. He currently lives and teaches in Bellingham, Washington.