“I’m still not clear on the pins.” Ruth stared expectantly at Cain. “Why wasn’t Brent disqualified for taking off his pin like group D had been when they took off the armbands during the stealth exam?”
“It’s probably that old coot’s fault,” Daniel said quickly with a smirk. “He never said they had to wear any of the equipment in the lockers.”
“Without the armbands the stealth instructor couldn’t score a hit on the recruits, making it impossible for them to fail the exam.” Cain tried to answer a little more thoughtfully. “As such, the armbands were mandatory. On the other hand, the pins gave the instructors additional ways to test the recruits, but even without the pins, failure was still very possible.”
“That, and it seems like the old coot didn’t want to give away their purpose, so he had the instructors try to make them seem trivial,” Daniel added, still smirking. “Something most recruits would wear without a second thought to their real purpose. However, since they didn’t say they were mandatory, removing them wasn’t a cause for failure. Bet they are regretting that oversight right now.”
“Old man Hayden always was a few cards short of a deck,” Ruth said as politely as she could. “So what about group A? How’d they fair?”
“Half of them made it,” Daniel started. “They were doing well until the sandstorm.”
“A sandstorm?” Ruth interrupted. “So it wasn’t just group C that got one?”
“Well, yes and no.” Daniel double checked his pad. “Group A did get a sandstorm, but comparing it to the one group C got it is like comparing a garbage hauler to a ship of the line. Group A’s sandstorm merely made it hard to see and talk.”
“So, why did half the group fail?” Ruth was puzzled.
“The goggles,” Cain jumped into the story before Daniel could. “From the sounds of it, only half of them eventually realized what they were for. When the storm first hit, it disoriented the group and they started wandering aimlessly. By the time anyone figured out the purpose of the goggles, the entire group had spread so far they couldn’t see one another. The instructor was ready to fail some of the eleven that made it to the structure for abandoning the rest. However, when the instructor checked the recruits’ pads, he found that, of the nine who were still wandering, only two had their pins on.”
“And without the pins and the low sight range of the goggles,” Daniel said before Cain could interrupt again, “it would have been impossible to find the other seven. Abandoning them was the logical choice in the situation, and the instructor begrudgingly passed them.”
“Well, at least that’s something.” Ruth folded her arms. “My division leader would be furious if only group C passed survival. Our best one just graduated and we need a replacement badly. Although, it sounds like the instructors could have saved themselves a lot of headaches if they had just made the pins mandatory like the armbands. I wonder if these results are going to be of any real use come the trials.”
“Remember, these are new exams for the instructors, too.” Cain was scanning the observation room as he spoke. “What sounds like a good idea in theory often turns out disastrous in practice. All we care about is getting through today without getting lynched.”
“Looking for someone?” Daniel joined Cain’s scanning.
“It’s not that. Look at the monitors.” Cain gestured toward the nearest monitor.
“What the . . . when did that happen?” Daniel quickly grabbed his pad and started taking notes. “The next exams are already starting?”
“The troopers are still celebrating,” Ruth said calmly. “Do you think anyone else knows the next exams are starting?”
“I’m sure a few are.” Cain smiled to himself.
In the massive crowd of shouting and singing troopers, Cain could make out the calm and cool glances of the division leaders. The recruits were about to enter the combat exam, by far the most important exam. At least that’s what the division leaders thought. To miss it was unthinkable. Everything that had come before would dictate what course of study a recruit would take, what their specialty would be.
However, the result of the combat exam was the deciding factor in who got invited to a division and who would have to be assigned. After all, a combat ready recruit who could be put to immediate use in the approaching trial was infinitely more useful than a recruit who would one day in the distant future become a master of a discipline.
Chapter 7: Combat
Humphrey had actually been smiling, not a grin or a twisted lip, but a full-blown smile. If Brent had not seen it with his own eyes, he would not have believed it possible. Without a word, Humphrey led them on toward the next exam, while his body language spoke volumes. Besides the smile, there was a bounce in his step and a prideful angle to his lifted chin. Group C had apparently done well. As they reached the next exam, Humphrey shook the hands of each recruit as they passed into the room. When Humphrey took Brent’s hand, he held it for a moment and leaned close to Brent.
“Thanks for making that pompous windbag eat some crow,” Humphrey mumbled happily. “I’ve never seen the old skeleton more rattled. I’ve waited years to see that bag of bones meet his match.”
Brent nodded in acceptance of the praise and entered. Once in the room, the recruits found themselves alone. No doubt an instructor was waiting in the wings to test them, or perhaps punish them for what Humphrey had just praised them for. However, without the instructor, there was nothing to do but wait for the guillotine to drop. Without anyone to discourage them, the recruits started conversations. Most of it was the usual meaningless polite banter one exchanged when nervous. Hiroko looked bored. Having slept through the last exam, she didn’t seem to understand why the rest were so anxious. The door at the far end of the room interrupted the conversations.
As it slowly opened, it unleashed a thunderous roar. Loud horns played a fanfare that seemed to draw in the recruits. As they entered the new room, the roar surged like a massive wave over their arrival. The recruits were in a grand coliseum of old with a massive crowd of spectators dressed in togas and other period pieces. Stone pillars of marble encircled them with the elaborate banners of empires long dead wafting in the mild breeze.
Brent kicked at the ground, sending a small plume of dust into the air. The recreation was exact, right down to the dust that covered the ground. A wall lined the oval area in the center of the coliseum. It was at least twenty feet tall. There were only two breaks in the wall, the entrance the recruits had come through and an opening directly opposite it. Above the wall were hundreds of stone rows holding uncountable spectators, each one eager for the coming show. Brent eyed the opposing opening and worried about what part the recruits would play in that show.
The recruits were awe struck, slowly spinning in place, trying to take it all in. Brent followed the rows of cheering, toga-wearing observers with his eyes until he found a break at the far end of the coliseum directly above the far opening. Walking slowly, he approached the empty area. An overhanging gallery housed one overly-lavish chair in its center. Cushioned with expensive looking pillows and encrusted with jewels, the throne was obviously meant for someone of great importance. From the shadows behind the throne, a woman dressed in the formal garb of the academy stepped out into the sunlight.
She was so out of place with the rest of the theme that Brent had to rub his eyes to make sure he was really seeing her. She was tall, and unlike the sun reddened faces of the spectators, was quite pale. Her eyes were deep and dark. They peered into him like those of a serpent. Despite the strong dichotomy between the instructor and her surroundings, her composure gave him the feeling that she truly belonged here. The instructor resembled an empress gliding to her throne, Cleopatra reborn in the wrong era.
She perched on her throne like a majestic eagle, a pose too rigid to be truly comfortable. As her gaze swept over the coliseum, a sneer developed on her regal face. The instructor locked her gaze on Brent. A chill trickled down his spine. He imagined he was feeling
what a gazelle felt when it was stared down by a lion. With their eyes locked, Brent felt alone and wondered where the other recruits were, hoping for one of them to distract the instructor and avert her gaze. He dared not avert his own gaze. Like the gazelle, he knew the instant he took his eyes off the predator the true battle would begin, and he would have already lost.
“I see one of you keeps his eyes on the prize.” The instructor spoke with the monotone of a bored aristocrat. “Unmoved by the unimportant, he charges forward. Let’s just see if he reaches the finish line or charges right off a cliff.”
As she released her gaze on him, Brent took a deep breath. It felt like he had been holding his breath for hours. Following the instructor’s displeased gaze, he discovered he was alone, several feet from the rest of the recruits. They were completely oblivious to his minor altercation, their attention still fixed on the crowd and pillars.
“It’s quite rude to keep a lady waiting,” the instructor shouted at the recruits with clear annoyance. “I’d be just as happy to write you all off as hopeless, a group of lollygaggers too interested in archeology. But that would be depriving myself of a show, and I doubt this young man would let me down in that regard.”
The instructor eyed Brent with a smirk tugging at her lip. Erin grabbed the collars of several recruits and dragged them toward the instructor, muttering insults at them as they progressed. Dante tapped Owen and Hiroko’s shoulders. The trio walked toward Brent while their gazes continued to sweep over the restless crowd. The rest of the recruits followed closely behind, still absentmindedly engrossed in the environment.
“Welcome to your next exam,” the instructor started, not waiting for the recruits. “Here you will be put to the true test. On this field of battle you will meet your greatest foe. Most of you will fail miserably, but do try to put on a decent show. The normal exam is so boring, but thanks to Bloom I’ve been able to create this masterpiece. Now, as recruits you were no doubt woefully ignorant of the three principles of the academy. Well, allow me to demonstrate the first!”
“The first principle of the academy?” Owen asked, clueless.
“Power is power, regardless of source!” Erin shouted proudly.
“Quite right! Power is power,” repeated the instructor. “It doesn’t matter if that power comes from technology, muscles, intellect, or any other source. As long as you can match your opponent’s power, you can hold them at bay, and if you can surpass them, then victory is only a matter of time. Up until this point you have been pitting one form against another form. You’ve used cunning against scanners. You’ve pressed ahead under the power of perseverance against the strength of a hostile world. Now, we will pit your strength against an equal source of power, a true test of your abilities.” The instructor’s voice rang with pride.
As the instructor continued her speech, Brent noticed that below her two columns of troopers silently entered the arena. They were dressed in uniforms identical to the recruits. The two columns moved in formation and created two perfect rows. As he studied the newcomers, he was shocked to find Hiroko standing among their ranks. Swiveling, he searched the recruits around him until he found Hiroko. She was still standing next to Dante and Owen. The three were standing right behind him, still listening to the instructor, completely unaware of his alarm.
Slowly returning to the two new rows, Brent shuddered as he started to recognize more and more of them. As he inspected the “recruits” he found them all to be mirror images of the real recruits standing with him. Counting them, he found their number to be nineteen. A sudden feeling of nausea swept over him as understanding came to his mind.
“Are we boring you?” The instructor raised her voice at Brent. “You really should show more respect for your superiors.”
The real recruits were startled by the instructor’s sudden self-interruption. Freed from the instructor’s lecture, the recruits noticed the two rows standing opposite them. Brent could hear the gasps as the recruits realized the two rows were filled with doppelgangers.
“You are one short. Am I that difficult to copy?” Brent asked calmly.
“Please, you are nothing more than a worker ant, insignificant and easily replaceable.” The instructor seemed unconcerned as she lowered her volume while her eyes raged silently. “Sadly, you failed to receive treatment from Medical after the mishap in the mess hall, a clerical oversight I’m told. You’d be at a disadvantage.”
“And how would that be new to me?” Brent asked. “I’ve been through three exams and have yet to see a fair fight.”
Unexpectedly, the instructor burst into laughter. It was a high-pitched affair that grated on the ears. As the cackling continued, a new figure emerged from the shadows below her. It was an exact duplicate of Brent, although there was a loathsome look on his face that Brent wasn’t sure he could mirror.
“So be it; you’ll have your opponent. Just remember you brought this down upon yourself. You may have another exam after this and many more tests in the future, but years from now you will all remember mine as the defining moment in your military careers. For today you will face an enemy who has all your strength and skills, a true test of your abilities.”
The instructor paused to let it sink in. When a few recruits started to show the first signs of being overwhelmed, a thin smile pulled at her regal appearance.
“This is singles combat, so don’t even think of ganging up. I won’t have you insects swarming. If I catch even a single punch joining into another’s fight, you will fail instantly, no exceptions. And don’t expect me to let you off easily. The only road to victory lies with your foe defeated. There is no time limit, no score, no gold stars for effort. You have five minutes. After that, my doubles will launch their attack. I suggest you use your last minutes well.” The instructor’s lips curled into a wicked grin.
Content with her speech, the instructor seemed to relax a bit. The crowd in the stone rows ate it up, cheering wildly in anticipation. The recruits quickly spaced themselves out, making sure there was enough room between them to avoid the risk of running into another recruit and failing instantly. The crowd grew hushed as the recruits finished their spreading and the doubles mirrored the group’s movements.
Brent ignored his double and scanned for his friends. Dante was the closest, tense and ready for a fight. His back would be to Dante when he faced his double. He’d have to get his double to change position if he was going to keep an eye on Dante. Hiroko was farther off to his right as he faced Dante. Her face was contorted with worry as her hands fidgeted nervously. Owen was the farthest off, in the extreme edge of the group opposite Brent. Owen was a few paces away from Hiroko and was watching her nervous movements intently. The rest of the recruits were flexing their muscles or tensing up, each preparing for the worst. Returning to face his double, Brent found Erin standing to his right at quite a distance, her face locked on her double with complete focus. The world could end and she wouldn’t realize it as long as her double was still standing. Returning his gaze to his double, he readied for the brawl.
The initial rush was uniform; all twenty doubles charged as one, but as they closed, the individual speeds staggered them. They were mirrors of the recruits, right down to the way they walked and ran. The mass rushed past him and the sounds of combat filled the arena. The crowd in the coliseum roared as the battle began. Brent’s own double wasted no time, his first punch already flying as they closed to mêlée range.
Using his right arm, Brent deflected the first blow. His double staggered back, apparently not expecting him to fight defensively. As the double recovered, he parried around so he could see the rest of the recruits and his friends. The double launched another attack, and Brent once more deflected the blow. The double alternated between punches and quick dodges. He remembered trying to use those same dodges against Reggie back in the mess hall. Dodging the blows of his double or managing to deflect them was tricky but manageable. As the double swung and missed, Brent backed off a step. While his
double struggled to regain balance, Brent cupped his fists and brought them both down on the unprepared shoulders. The double staggered away with the wind knocked out of him.
Momentarily free of the assault, Brent scanned the battlefield. As the crowd above cheered them on, the recruits battled in hand-to-hand combat, neither recruits nor doubles able to land serious blows against the mirror defenses. Dante and his double were locked with their hands locked on each other’s shoulders, a stalemate. Owen was holding his own, moving around quicker than Brent had believed him possible of. Owen and his double were throwing punch after punch, but each was quickly avoided. It seemed to be more of a dance than a fight. Hiroko was not far off but not doing as well. Instead of constantly throwing punches, the two Hirokos played a game of cat and mouse, randomly exchanging kicks while skirting around one another. Hiroko’s movements were slower than her double’s, and she barely managed to avoid half the blows. He wondered if the sedatives from the last exam were still affecting her.
He had been paying too much attention to the recruits to notice his double charging him until the double slammed into his right side, sending the two flying. The two crashed into the dirt floor of the coliseum and slid for several feet before Brent managed to kick off his attacker. He struggled to stand, his side throbbing with pain. His double was already on his feet and was charging again. He wondered how exact this double really was. Was it really possible for him to be this tenacious? The double never seemed to tire no matter what it did. Brent quickly looked around. Recruits and doubles were still trading blows and misses. The recruits were starting to pant, but their doubles continued on mercilessly. These things were not just doubles; they were something more.
As Brent’s double grew closer it dawned on him that it would never tire. The longer the battle raged, the less chance he had of victory. He readied himself for a counter strike as the double neared the outer range of his fists. He knew time was against him, so he readied all his strength for one final blow. As he prepared to launch his final assault, Erin suddenly crashed into his double. Stupefied, Brent watched helplessly as the two slid along the dirt. Glancing in the direction Erin had come from, he found her double standing oddly still. The double’s hands were hanging limp, and the eyes had an unfocused glaze on them. Meanwhile, Erin and his double were already fighting to separate themselves.
The Ninth Page 13
