“Forget it!” he shouted. “I’d rather die than be responsible for that!”
“You can’t possibly be willing to sacrifice yourself for these bags of meat!” The voice was furious.
“You said it was my choice. I’ve decided.”
The voice let out a roar of pure fury that slowly degraded into a grating tone that tore at Brent’s ears. As the sound faded, Reggie’s fist started to move ever so slightly. Likewise, the rest of the fighting mass started to resume its action. The movements picked up greater and greater speed. As Reggie’s fist was about to make contact, Brent thrust with all his might against the trooper to his left. Just as the fist returned to normal speed, Brent’s head swung to the left. The fist continued on its original path, running into the face of the trooper directly behind him. Dumbfounded, Reggie pulled back his fist as the trooper he struck fell to the floor unconscious. Brent tried to strike back while Reggie was confused but found himself completely drained. He couldn’t wink an eyelid, let alone muster a punch. As Brent looked up at Reggie, a fist connected with Reggie’s jaw. A male trooper from the FF nailed Reggie. Reggie staggered back a few steps, blood draining from his lip. The troopers dropped Brent and charged the man in green and orange. However, before they got to him, they froze in place and slowly fell to their knees. Several of the other combatants mirrored their actions and sat down. Others rolled up into a fetal position, while a few simply stood, confused.
“That is more than enough of that!” Administer Bloom’s voice bellowed over the troopers.
They had been too late. Jack had instantly felt the massive surge of hostile emotions, but it had taken far too long to get to the mess hall. It was academy policy that staff and troopers ate separately. Nathan had invited Jack to his office for the meal. Of course, he couldn’t have known what was about to unfold, but hindsight is twenty/twenty. Jack envisioned scenario after scenario. Maybe if he had refused Nathan. Maybe if he had been watching over the boy more carefully. Maybe if he had paid closer attention to the emotions in the mess hall. Countless maybes that all added up to one fact. Something important had happened, and Jack had arrived too late.
As the troopers and recruits were looked over by medical teams, Jack quickly headed to central maintenance. He was certain of what had to be done, and done before anyone else had the same thought. Jack made his way in record time. A lone man in the dull gray uniform of a maintenance worker manned the reception area. The attention of the worker was fixed on his pad. Jack could hear soft grunts and moans coming from the pad.
“What do you want?” the scrawny man asked without lifting his eyes off his pad.
“The mess hall is monitored at all times, right?” Jack asked.
“Of course,” the man replied as he leaned back, still watching intently over his pad.
“I’ll need a viewer and unrestricted access,” Jack said firmly.
“And I need a raise and a bonus. Guess we are both out of luck.” The maintenance worker smirked.
Jack leaned over and snatched the pad out of his hands.
“Hey! I was watching tha . . . sorry sir! I didn’t realize. I’ll clear you access immediately.” The scrawny man quickly ducked through a corridor.
The worker’s eyes had practically fallen out of his head when he realized he had been mouthing off to a Weaver. Even Jack had to admit the public phobia of Weavers had its uses every now and again. He stole a glance at the pad’s display while he waited on the scrawny man in dull gray. Several female recruits in skintight leotards were warming up, some bending with incredible flexibility. It was a poor duplication of station surveillance. Obviously the mess hall wasn’t the only area observed.
“I’ve set you up with viewer twelve.” The scrawny man’s voice came through weakly on the intercom. “It’s the seventh room on the right. Just leave the pad on the desk. I’ll retrieve it later.”
The room was small but not uncomfortably so, just large enough for the purpose designed. Within minutes, Jack had the recording of the fight replaying in front of him. He could jump to any moment in the last eight hours. Like most surveillance, it was hour after hour of pointless tedium and routine recorded in its entire mind-numbing glory. Thankfully, the speed of the playback could be altered. Jack had watched the seven-and-a-half hours before the fight in less than thirty seconds. So much happened in such a short time. From first punch to last, the fight had taken only a few minutes. Jack had watched the entire fight a dozen times and yet still felt he was missing something.
“So here you are,” Nathan announced as he entered the room. “In all the commotion I lost track of you.”
“Sorry, Nathan, there was something I had to do,” Jack replied as he reset the viewer to the start of the fight.
“I can see that. That poor boy out there is as white as a sheet. Nearly fell out of his chair when I asked if he had seen a Weaver.”
“Might want to check on security, Nathan. That ‘poor boy’ was watching the female recruits warm up on their ship. I wouldn’t bother mentioning it, but he was watching it in plain sight. Imagine if I had been one of those girls coming to complain about a malfunction.”
“There is an image. I’ll have it taken care of. Oh, and you’ll be happy to know, besides some cuts and a few bruised egos, there weren’t any major injuries. According to Medical, the brawl won’t interfere with the examinations.”
“Mm-hmm.” Jack’s attention was again on the viewer.
Nathan quietly watched along side Jack, occasionally flinching and groaning in reaction to some of the more serious blows. Suddenly, Nathan leaned forward.
“What was that, Jack?” Nathan said pointing at Brent.
“A couple of troopers held him down while their leader got ready to finish him,” Jack said absentmindedly.
“Not the troopers, Brent. What was that he did just there?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Take it back, right before the punch connects.”
Jack tapped a few controls and the playback resumed from a few moments earlier in the fight.
“See! Right there! There’s a distortion in the recording,” Nathan said with rapt attention.
“I didn’t see anything.” Jack studied the image closer.
“Let me at those controls.”
Moving aside, Jack let Nathan take over. Nathan reset back a few moments, then resumed at quarter speed. For a single instant, shortly after the troopers grabbed Brent and just after Reginald threw his punch, his image distorted. Nathan tried again at an even slower speed. Just as Reginald’s fist traveled half the distance, Brent blurred.
“What is that?” Nathan asked as he paused the replay on the moment of distortion.
In the single still image, Brent’s body continued to struggle in a blur.
“Is this even possible Jack?” Nathan asked, horrified.
“Right before we broke up the fight, I thought I sensed something,” Jack said agitatedly.
“Felt what? None of the other Weavers said anything. They assisted you in breaking up the fight without a word.”
“They might not have been sensitive enough. It was only for the slightest of moments. I thought I had been mistaken.”
“Mistaken about what? What did you sense?”
“Rage. Pure rage.”
“It was a fight involving hundreds of troopers; certainly that would explain any rage you felt.”
“It’s more complicated than that, Nathan. Pure rage is impossible for humans.”
“Impossible? I’ve seen enough trials to know blind rage is far from impossible.”
“Not blind rage, pure rage. When a person is sad or happy or angry, most people think of it as a person being a single solid, shade of emotion. In truth, emotions are far more complex. A person may be sad with a tinge of happiness, or angry with a stroke of envy. Any creature with a sufficiently complex mind is incapable of a pure emotion. What I sensed was pure, unadulterated rage. Hatred on an inhuman level.”
&
nbsp; “So what does that mean we are seeing?” Nathan asked, gesturing toward the monitor.
“I don’t know. When Brent’s life was in jeopardy in the past, he would sometimes move with incredible speed. Perhaps what we are seeing is Brent moving so fast it is impossible to slow time down sufficiently to pause his motion.”
“Let me get this straight, Jack. In that single instant, Brent was fueled by pure rage. So much energy that he was able to move faster than perceivable by the naked eye. And yet not a single person was hurt? Did you and the other Weavers stop him?”
“We arrived too late. By the time we got there, the rage I sensed had already faded. Whatever happened in that moment of time was completely of Brent’s doing.”
“I suppose we should count ourselves lucky. It’s over now, and, aside from a few scratches, we emerged unscathed.”
“I wonder.”
Jack entered a few commands on the panel, and the screen changed. Nathan recognized the new information as access logs. Jack scanned through them quickly and pointed at one in particular.
“We aren’t the only ones who’ve watched this,” Jack said, quickly accessing more information.
“Well, of course not. These recordings are available to security and maintenance. Half the staff on the station could take a look anytime after they heard about the fight,” Nathan said soundly.
“Perhaps normally, but I initiated a security lock on the file as soon as I gained unrestricted access. I was the first and only person to open the file and have been watching it ever since.”
“That means . . .”
“That someone hacked into the file. Through a top priority military lock no less. All while we stood here, oblivious to that fact.”
“Do you know who?”
“No. They did an excellent job hiding their tracks. Wait. I’ve got something. At the same time the file was accessed there was a server request from Medical for some personnel files. Looks like the hacker piggybacked the request and downloaded the mess hall surveillance data.”
“Medical? Well, that narrows it down,” Nathan said sarcastically. “Now all we have to do is go through two divisions, a hundred recruits, a full staff of doctors and their assistants, most of the academy Weavers, and at least half of the station’s security personnel.”
“We might be able to narrow it down even further. This is the work of a pro. I doubt there are many in the entire Commonwealth with this level of skill.
“Jack, I just had a thought.”
“Yes?”
“The who of it is troublesome enough, but what about the why? Why would a master hacker be on our station in the first place? Moreover, why would a person with such ability break into an academy and hack into what amounts to a bar fight?”
“What are you getting at, Nathan?”
“Someone knows about Brent, Jack. Someone powerful.”
Chapter 6: Survival
Dozens of medics swarmed over the crumpled troopers. Like insects foraging for food, the medics inspected the fallen. Within minutes the entire group of troopers had been categorized and put in order. They were all escorted to Medical where the medics got to work while security personnel made sure no further violence broke out. Having no major injuries, Brent was near the end of the list of those to be treated. As Brent sat in the waiting room, the details of the room started to fade until Brent’s consciousness slipped into sleep.
“Brent?” Owen gently shook the still young man. “Hey Brent, you okay?”
“I think he’s asleep, Owen,” Hiroko said tapping Owen on the shoulder.
Brent suddenly lurched violently forward. Owen jumped back, tripping and landing on the floor. For a moment, Brent remained perfectly still, then his head quickly scanned the room. Lifting a shaking arm, Brent found his forehead drenched in sweat. For a single instant he recalled a massive maw looming over a black obelisk before the details of the dream faded away completely.
“You okay, sir?” Dante extended an arm to help Brent stand.
“Bad dream. That’s all,” Brent said as he steadied himself.
“After that fight I wouldn’t doubt it.” Hiroko offered a hand to Owen.
“Speaking of nightmares, we’ve been cleared by Medical,” Owen said, dusting off his rear. “The exams aren’t going to be postponed.”
“Have the other groups left yet?” Hiroko scanned Medical.
“Eager, aren’t you?” a familiar voice mumbled from the waiting room entrance. “Don’t worry, no one has gotten a head start on you yet.”
“Thank you for the assist,” Brent said, heading toward the mumble.
“What is Brent talking about?” Owen whispered to Hiroko.
“Humphrey here is a member of the FF, the division that came to our rescue,” Brent said as the group assembled around Humphrey.
Erin patted Humphrey on the shoulder. Humphrey shrank away a bit.
“You may not speak very loudly, but your actions are clear enough. We all owe you a debt.” Erin was surprisingly sincere.
Humphrey mumbled something too quietly to be heard. A short female forced her way through the gathered recruits. Her uniform was the same green and orange of Humphrey’s – only neat and tidy.
“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” the neat trooper said quickly. “My group is almost ready to continue. How about yours?”
“Don’t worry, Rhea, we won’t delay you. You know, you should meet this girl here. She is almost as big a pain as you are,” Humphrey hissed as he gestured toward Hiroko.
“Pleased to meet you,” Rhea said, smiling to the stunned Hiroko. “I’m sure you’ll go far. Humphrey hates everyone who has even an ounce of talent.”
“Are exams always this exciting?” Owen asked as he comforted Hiroko.
“Always.” Rhea smiled warmly. “Although, usually most of the fighting is limited to the exams.”
“Your group is set, Rhea,” Humphrey mumbled. “I can see one of them waving you over.”
“Right then. Good luck on the next exam; you’ll all need it,” Rhea said, leaving the gathering.
Humphrey’s demeanor brightened the farther Rhea got.
“Don’t like her much, do you?” Erin asked, grinning wickedly.
“Too pushy; always on my case,” Humphrey mumbled sourly. “Blames me for her mistakes, as if everything is my fault. She acts like everything I do makes her look bad. Talks too much, too,” Humphrey hissed.
Owen nudged Brent.
“I think Erin has a thing for Humphrey,” Owen whispered.
“More likely she just likes anyone who hates me,” Hiroko whispered to Owen. “Or people like me
“Well, you’ve all had your break. Time to get back to the exams.” Humphrey quickly started down a corridor.
“No rest for the weary I suppose,” Owen lamented.
“Or the wicked.” Hiroko stuck out her tongue at Erin’s back.
Erin was oblivious to Hiroko as she kept a close distance behind Humphrey. Maybe Owen was more observant than Hiroko gave him credit. After a few long hallways and a few twists and turns, Humphrey stopped in front of a standard doorway. Turning to face the group, a hint of concern tugged at Humphrey’s face.
“I’ll be frank with you all.” Humphrey’s mumble hid any emotions that might have been behind the statement. “You won’t like this next exam. I didn’t. And that was before they thought up these new twists. Do your best and stay safe.”
As the door opened, Brent could make out a figure standing in center of the room. Brent judged him to be a very old man, but he was only about the height as the youngest recruits. He leaned forward with a bit of a hunch and had more wrinkles than hair. As the recruits entered the room, Brent could hear the old man talking to himself.
“. . . a very skilled group. I’ve been observing their progress,” the old instructor’s voice rasped as he spoke. “Very interesting. Maybe a good fresh batch is what the academy needs. Certainly couldn’t hurt much, not as things are now. Then again, you
never know. All it takes is a single match to light a fire, you know, though I doubt a fire would be a problem. The station is ready for fires. Put them out quickly I’m sure, although it would make a terrible mess.”
“Pardon me,” Owen started slowly, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but are you ready for us?”
“Of course I’m ready for you. I’m not that old yet. Now, you’ll enter the ship behind me. Wait, there isn’t one, is there?” the instructor asked absentmindedly.
The old man turned to face the closed doorway behind him and nodded. A few moments later the doorway hissed open, and the inside of a ship could be seen, almost identical to the one from the first exam. As the recruits entered the ship, the instructor rasped on.
“Do not worry, there won’t be any guards or cities to break into, although there might be a good deal of breaking. In any case, I will be testing all of your survival skills. In the lockers there are water canteens, and some other tools to aid you. They don’t look like much, but then again most things don’t look like much at first.” The instructor’s voice would rise and fall as he randomly changed subjects, making understanding the rambling all the more difficult. “Make sure you take what I set out for you. I got each of you a full set, no fighting over them! We’ve had enough of that already.”
The old man looked over the group, almost as if he was looking for someone to scold. He paused suddenly and blinked a few times.
“Oh right. The exam. This exam is very simple, nothing more than getting from one place to another. Be warned that simple is not the same thing as easy! They mean very different things. Why else would we use two different words if they meant the same thing? It would be silly to have two words for the same concept, a waste of time, although one word might come to mean more over time. Words are funny that way. In any case, if you fail to survive, then your future will not be one in the field of survival. Wait a second, that doesn’t make any sense.”
The Ninth Page 9
