Norlin was a hell of a guy and someone I'd always had incredible respect for. But in a way, I did him so much wrong.
The Professor got my attention after class and confronted me. Before he'd become an instructor, Aloc Norlin had modeled for a series of advanced supplements supposedly used now by Enrec soldiers. Steroid use had come a long way historically, and so Norlin was also one of the bulkiest dudes I'd ever seen and possessed an aggressive but overall likable personality. He reached out to me for the first time, “Word is you've got hands to throw, Mr. Tavon.”
I laughed. “What?”
“Everybody tells me to watch out for you: Big Bad T.” Norlin chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. “You got almost the whole school afraid to fight you. They say you've been whoopin' on some people, is that right?”
“I don't really know what they say; I don't care about what they think, Teach. Ever since I've been here, people avoid me. I'm not like these rich kids.”
“Ain't nobody want you to be like them. I know you've got a lot of pent up anger, don’t you?”
“Says who?”
“Boy, it's obvious.” He scoffed. “All you do is keep to yourself and somehow you still end up in fight after fight. You show up to class all torn and beaten up, so are you winning or losing?”
Norlin bore his gaze into me; he was blind in one eye.
“Winning.”
“Good,” The Professor grinned. “Because there's something I'm going to show you that I think you'll come to appreciate…”
Norlin was one of the wealthiest people in the Third Quadrant, but he wasn't known for showing off anything he had or owned. Despite this, there was one amenity he’d decided to share with the world:
A dojo.
--
Other fellas and I liked to call Professor Norlin's place “the dojo.” As it turns out, he’d purchased a two-story house and renovated the first floor so that it matched the kind of facility used by one of the previous cultures before the First Rift we’d briefly studied in History. It was a sparse, open area adorned with subtle calligraphy and walls and flooring that reflected a mostly vanilla setting. Aloc had strategically placed incense around the dojo and used it as a gym to train small groups of kids from the institution. His plan was to become a renowned fighting coach and consequently train a crew of talented youth to compete with other Champions in the Citadel.
Competitive fighting was a tiered system structured by the Dawn Federation. Age wasn't necessarily important, and so really anyone capable could give it a shot and try to represent the Citadel as the best combatant. Not only that, but the money involved often made it a lucrative opportunity. Norlin’s specialty was in rustic street fighting slightly informed by remnants of old martial arts having been recovered from the Old World. He passed down a peculiar style which enabled his disciples to become rather effective in combat.
By this time, I’d already developed into an arrogant little punk. Getting into skirmishes all the time at school had given me an attitude, and I'd come to believe that I could ground anybody into the dust. I was just begging for people to fuck with me, because I didn’t have anything else but my reputation. Eze was getting older and seemed to be losing his mind more and more every day; it was up to me now to let people know who I was.
When the professor had first taken me into the dojo, I remember looking at the other kids like they were almost lesser. I believed that I was the only one worthy to even call myself a true brawler, but little did I know that it'd be the first time I met Isaac Reaver before he walked the streets as High Rise. He was a lot bigger than me—and a lot stronger, AND he stayed eating healthy in part because his father stuck by his family. Isaac’s dad kept food on the table while working as a successful dealer in the projects.
I walked into that dojo to the sound of Big L's “Street Struck” playing on an advanced speaker system that merely consisted of a thick, metallic disc that was meant to be installed on the ceiling. Isaac was already at it with another kid the same age who was built just like me. I'd never seen someone swing so quick, and I remember watching him transition from pounding this dude in the head into a submission that had him choking the opponent out with the use of his calf muscles.
After Norlin declared Isaac the victor, the boy looked at me and piped up: “What, this little brat wants some, too? Just you chumps watch. I’mma be the champion of the Third Quadrant. Actually, nah—fuck that—I'll be the Champion of the Citadel!”
“Hey now,” Norlin said, “don't be getting too ahead of yourself! Start small! –And, boy, stop CURSING in my gym!” Norlin scolded.
“Whatever, pops. I'm finna give the world the one-two-fuck-you-up!”
The Professor sighed. “Say, isn’t your mother that one lady who swears she still spanks you?”
Immediately, the rest of the kids at the dojo burst into laughter.
“That's not funny—s-shut up!”
“Oh yeah? Why don't you take that anger out on the newcomer here then, huh? Let's see if a newbie can outwit you in a straight up match!”
“But it's no fair! I just fought, pops! I’m dam—darn tired,” Isaac complained.
“What, you scared or something? Afraid little T's gonna knock you off your game?”
Isaac clenched his fists. “Hell naw! I'll beat him, too; let's go, punk!”
One of the other kids quickly interrupted, “Yo Rise, I don't know, man; I seen that cat drop some kid just the other day—T’s shit is unreal, honestly.”
I walked forward until I was only a short distance away from Isaac and smirked. “I hope you're strong. Everybody else backs down on their promises.”
“Just fight me already, kid.”
My forearm flashed forward into Isaac's chest, and he started to fall back before catching himself and looking at me in bewilderment. “What the… aww shit!”
Isaac rushed at me, trying to clumsily ram himself into my stomach using his head, and so I reached my hands out and merely pushed back against his scalp! Even with all of his force, Isaac was pushed back a few steps, and so he slid under my grasp and delivered an uppercut…
… Which narrowly missed my jaw as I tilted my head up and back! I quickly turned to the side and hurled my knee into his solar plexus, and he fell to the ground gasping for air for a brief few seconds.
“Easy now, T!” Norlin bellowed. “Don't punish him too much or you'll hit his pride.”
I nodded in compliance and backed away. Isaac got to his knees and punched the ground before shouting: “Man, this kid's cheatin’!”
Someone in the audience jeered at him. “How’s he cheating, eh?”
“B-because his ass is over here using metal plates in his knee!”
“Boy, he does not have metal plates in his knee!” Norlin responded.
“But he's-he's just!”
“Better than you—at least for now!”
Isaac shook his head. “No! I'm not about to let him sleep on me like that; I'll win this.”
He lunged at me while launching three swift, powerful jabs in my direction. Taken off-guard, one of the blows landed on my cheek and caused my eye to swell. As I ducked, the second punch scraped against the top of my head—and by the third hit, I was crouched underneath his arm in order to send a strike directly into the bottom of his nose.
Isaac lurched back while holding his now broken septum, and I stepped in to finish the fight when—
“Tavon! Enough, boy! I think he gets it.”
Isaac pushed me before stomping away to sit in the corner and isolate himself from us all.
Professor Norlin shook his head. “Don't be such a bad sport, Rise; we still need you out there swinging! Go practice your form with somebody on the same level!”
He looked at me and said, “As for you… well…” he chuckled. “You're gonna take on the king of the dojo himself, Teach Norlin!” He puffed out his chest and exuded an admirable pride.
The mention of that sent me into a slight state of panic. I mean
, I was good but definitely not ready to take on someone who did this professionally.
—But it was too late…
Aloc Norlin charged forward and used momentum to leap and twirl his body before nailing me in the chest with a kick strong enough to hurl me across the room! I got up as rapidly as I could and reacted in time to dodge another kick that sailed right above my head! I stepped forward and tried to strike his abdomen, but he blocked my attack with his forearm! I then rotated my body and aligned my fist to land on his side—but it was deflected away by the deft movement of the palm of his hand!
Norlin moved in and struck me across the jaw with the top of his right wrist and then brought it back again to hit me on the opposite side. I tried to send a kick his way, but he raised his knee in time to stop me and then pushed me into the ground before folding his arms across his chest but relaxing after having measured my abilities.
“That's good.” He nodded encouragingly. “But it's not all your made of! Get up!”
I used my abs to leap into a stand and generated momentum to lunge forward and attempt an uppercut into his solar plexus in the same manner I’d used before to finish Isaac! Once again, Norlin moved his forearm to block my strike—but I then shifted into a stance that allowed me to use my elbow to slide past his defenses to land a controlled blow to his sternum.
Although I'd been quick and strategic, Norlin narrowly evaded the attack and stepped inside of my guard. He then proceeded to use his wrists as tools to continuously batter me.
But I refused to quit! After feeling my vision fade in and out coupled with the sensation of blood running down my face, I focused so that I could regain my orientation and charged toward Norlin again! Recalling the beatdown I’d suffered all those years ago when I was a street urchin, I sent a haymaker his way but stopped short, causing the professor to try to block before moving inside of my guard once again. I spun and balled my fist in preparation for a left haymaker that he in turn ducked. Norlin held his posture and, with his hands tucked close to his body, began boxing me again using only his wrists!
Most of his strikes landed square across my body. Every time I tried to attack, it felt as if I were hitting sheer blocks of stone when he deflected my constant flailing. I lunged in for one quick jab I thought would turn the tides in my favor and reeled back as his fist collided with the center of my forehead and sent me spiraling toward the embrace of the cold flooring as my waking mind faded from the present world.
--
When I came to—which was only a few moments later—I opened my eyes to see every other kid in the dojo looking at me like a damn zoo animal.
“T's got it in him, fellas!” Norlin announced. “Now that's someone who can make a name for himself in the ring—shiiit, my old trainer used to beat my ass on the regular!” He looked to me with a more serious expression. “But that's something you can overcome, am I right? You learn how to outmatch me, and you could prove to be the best in the Junior League…”
We didn't know how I was able to handle myself so well, and they all laughed at me whenever I swore that I couldn't remember anything from my childhood in later conversations. I didn’t think it’d be too wise to tell anyone that I'd woken up on a cruiser smuggling organs, and so I kept up appearances by saying that Eze was my real father. And… he was; if it wasn't for him, I might've just ended up another statistic.
It wasn’t long after I’d begun training with Norlin that Eze started wondering why I would always come home so late. When I was sixteen, we finally managed to score ourselves the cheapest, dirtiest apartment room that we shared with another group of junkies. The only thing that separated us from them was a divider made from paper, wood, and cloth. To Sandeze, this was the furthest he'd ever recalled coming in his life. That fool inevitably gave up his dream of living large and imagined that he'd spend the rest of his days as a street bum. But I refused to go with that plan, and I'd done some odd jobs—with some help from the Professor—to assist in securing us a place so that we wouldn't be wandering throughout the year. I was tired of trying to figure out how to get to school while the one taking care of me was too lost in a destructive habit.
Worse still, the Khalil Center was adapting to new changes put in place by the Federation. Because President Derek had recently set up a legal system that allowed for the filing of personal lawsuits, the heads of education in the Citadel decided to rethink how their student body went to class altogether. It wasn’t long before they were pushing for students to educate themselves from home using a virtual reality simulator. Instead of physically having to be present in a building, the next generation were about to start utilizing avatars of themselves in simulations that would have them going about a regularly perceived day at “school.” With the same avatars, students could more easily circumvent all forms of discrimination while interacting with digital environments posing no real threats to their safety.
Obviously, this caused a lot of citizens to protest against the change in education. The majority of schools run by the government were soon to switch over to this system, while several parental guardians argued that this gave local syndicate members all the opportunity they needed to start recruiting from their own home towns. And thus, the private sector of schools eventually broke off only to progressively become bankrupt after virtual classes became the more convenient trend.
Eze was ecstatic about this, because it meant I'd get to “help” him sell his useless junk again. But I was done with that shit—I'd been finished with it a long time ago after Officer Rowlo tried to beat on us. Rather, I thought my future would be in fighting. Professor Norlin kept giving me pep talks while I trained at the dojo, and so I was convinced that I'd move to a professional level and find out what kind of person existed at the top of the Junior League. There were stories of grown men losing to the youngest punks because they were “gifted”—whatever the hell that meant. I intended to find out, because maybe those kids and I had something in common, and so I did something I still regret to this day…
--
I'm was in the dojo with only Isaac and Norlin. After I’d beaten down High Rise, we'd started growing on each other after he taught me about basketball—something at which he was far better—and now here he was focusing solely on ways to help me improve in my talent.
“Stance, T! Focus on your posture, brother!” Isaac shouted.
I was battling it out with the Professor again and still getting my ass handed to me every time I managed to get up. By now, Norlin had come up with a new nickname for me:
“Boy, get up and throw your hits like a man! C'mon, Knockdown! Don't let me keep handing it to you, Knockdown T!”
Norlin locked his hands together over his head and brought them downward! –only for them to catch air as I evaded the attack and stayed at his side while I launched a fist into his ribcage. I then jumped slightly in order to follow up by rotating my body to deliver a powerful kick into his back! But with inhuman speed, he caught my foot while simultaneously stopping the full weight of my momentum! He then slammed me on the ground with ease and gave a hearty laugh.
“You're learning, Knockdown! Go clean yourself up and we'll talk about setting up your first public match!”
I entered the dojo again after washing the blood off my bruised face. Norlin never held back when he was instructing, and I always caught the brunt of it since I was his “star pupil.”
“Hey, Teach!” I said.
“What's up, little Knockdown?”
“I didn't go this week.” I looked away while feeling a little ashamed.
He laughed. “Go to what?”
“I've been skipping school to train…”
“What?!” His expression turned serious. “That’s impossible—you've been in my class!”
With the recent shift in education, most private institutions were doing everything they could to retain their current students and avoid losing revenue. I could get away with a lot more now.
“Yeah… just yours, Teach.
I feel like you've actually got wisdom to say to us in there—and-and with the new shit getting put in place, they don't really seem to care if you show up anymore.”
“You mean to tell me they've just been letting you leave?!” Norlin folded his arms and looked furious. “No accountability whatsoever, and that's why you got these cats on the street growing up like born criminals! No parents around, no responsibility taken; they leave these kids to figure out their lives for themselves in this damn… jungle.” He shook his head.
“I'm sorry, Teach.”
“Who you been trainin' with then?” Norlin seemed curious.
Isaac interrupted the two of us. “Yo, Teach, we been getting the guys together to box around at Dreme Park.”
“Hell no! You're tellin' me they allowing kids to street fight? Who's about to pay for it when one of you fools get seriously hurt?”
“We got it, Teach! You the one who trained us, so what do you expect?”
“At this rate, I might as well become a full-time coach.” Norlin chuckled. “With all the potential here, this dojo could do a lot for the Third Quad—But listen!” He became stern. “All of you—including the other guys that come here—ALL of you will go to your classes until the government takes them away.”
“Aww c'mon, Teach!” Isaac complained.
Professor Norlin sighed. “They've already given me the virtual tools. I'll be teaching from home soon so I have more time to try to work with this community. But that doesn't change the fact that I still have a job to do, and I expect you fellas to do right by the Khalil Center; it held out as long as it could, you know.”
By the time the Khalil Center had begun to shut down months later, I was preparing for my first match.
--
At sixteen years old, I went up against a lower-ranking Third Quadrant fighter and remember feeling nervous as the eyes of hundreds watched the battle. My opponent was some dark-haired, bulked up kid who’d been trying too hard to make himself look tough as he glared at me. I waited impatiently while the announcer finished introductions, and soon he gave us the signal to go.
Angelos Odyssey Page 41
