by James Cox
As the stewards and stewardesses strapped the passengers in for takeoff they offered tranqs.
"Should I take one," asked Robin nervously.
"Yes," said Carl.
"If you're really nervous," said Robert, "but it really isn't that bad."
Robin decided not to take the tranq.
The ship started rumbling around them. The viewscreen at the front of the lounge cleared to a view from the ship's sensors. The pilot lofted them slowly and Robin only felt heavy in her chair. The screen split to show the view fore and aft and Robin watched the spaceport, then Port Anemone and finally Echo Bend itself shrink and disappear. Despite everything else Robin thrilled at actually leaving her planet, at leaving home. She dreamed about it and fantasized about it but actually doing it...
After forty-two minutes the throb deepened and the gravity hiccuped and went back to normal.
"Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking. We have cleared orbit and are vectoring toward our microjump point. We are approximately two days plus five in link to Salva Secore. We will be making one navigation stop. Please remain seated until after we microjump and also observe transit protocol. We hope you enjoy your trip and thank you for choosing Federation Interstellar."
Seventeen minutes later the ship microjumped. Robin felt a momentary discomfort, barely noticed and over almost before she felt it. The ship crew began unstrapping the passengers and helping them up. Amazingly Robin saw a few obviously ill ones receiving medical attention.
"But why? That was... Awesome!" She directed the question to Robert but Carl answered.
"Grippers. You may like it but some of them don't."
She puzzled over the answer. True, it scared her at first but the afterward more than made up for it. Then Robin realized something even more amazing: Carl answered her without contempt! He spoke without contempt for her not knowing and contempt for those he certainly must feel weaker than himself. She filed this datum carefully.
Back in her room Robin pulled out her terminal with thoughts of connecting to the ship net and finding out some information. Carl disabused her of this by walking into the room, folding up the furniture and moving her bags into their room next door. Before she could ask Carl tossed her a bundle of cloth.
"What is this?" The cloth bundle turned into something like a swimsuit made of thick fabric.
"Put it on."
Robin started to protest but he turned away. She donned it wordlessly but thought it showed too much of her. It fit perfectly, though, and when she turned back she saw Carl had stripped down to a pair of fighting trunks. He faced her, standing balanced on the balls of his feet.
"If you're going to fight," he said, "learn to fight. Posing and posturing is platinum and polar orbits on the holovee but in a real situation it'll only get you killed."
"Wait," said Robin, nerves tensing, "We should have dampers!"
"Think of it as motivation."
With that he moved in on attack. He alternated punches and kicks and Robin defended, mostly. Rita Jasworth firmly believed in dampers and when some of the ladies duffed moves Robin discovered why. Regardless, Carl kept attacking and she did her best to defend.
Before long the attacks changed. Robin didn't know exactly how but they did. She did know she had to defend harder and faster and never twice from the same direction. Her muscles twinged then ached with the unaccustomed work but Carl showed no sign of slowing.
Then Robin made a disturbing discovery. Between attacks Carl's eyes flicked downward as he looked at her scars. Not that he had any dearth of them himself, still it upset her. One of her worst lay across her midriff; but for the surgeons Aunt Lilly hired it would have covered most of her stomach. The next time he moved in Robin tried to shift to hide it.
Lightning-fast Carl tapped several vital areas and threw her to the floor.
"Up," he said, moving back into ready position.
Robin wanted to protest but saw his eyes tracing her again. With protesting muscles she climbed to her feet and assumed ready position.
This time Carl moved in with grips and holds. Robin did those well under Jasworth. Not so Carl; no sooner did she break one than he applied another. Almost, it seemed, he knew exactly how she would move and planned his next one accordingly. He swept her into a front armlock and Robin saw him tracing the scars on the arm he held. Without thinking Robin jerked her arm back. He released it, tangled his foot in hers and she ended up on the floor again.
"That hurt!"
"Up."
"I said that hurt, burn you!"
"And I said get up." No emotion crossed his face.
"No!" Robin pulled herself into a sitting position and glared.
Unfazed, Carl moved over and jabbed a stiff finger there, there and there. Pain radiated outward from every strike. Robin tried to block him but succeeded only in exposing more soft areas. Biting back tears she backed away from him.
"Torque you!" This time Robin's muscles screamed as she rose. Sweat ran down her face and stung her eyes.
Carl moved in again but she didn't give him a chance. Robin counterattacked into him, throwing punches and kicks as hard and as fast as she could. Several landed without force and the rest simply missed. Before long Robin's anger burned itself out, replaced with extra fatigue. Carl moved in, levered her over one of her own kicks and threw her to the floor again.
"Up."
"Rut you!" This time Robin spoke through clenched teeth. She heard him approach and felt a light touch tracing down her back. Exploding with what strength she could muster Robin swept his feet. This time Carl hit the floor hard. She pulled back her legs and delivered several particularly vicious kicks Jasworth taught just for such situations. When she could Robin rolled back to her feet and began administering punches and kicks suitable for a downed foe. It didn't take him long to grab her foot and throw her down but she did land several telling blows. She ended up breathing hard and staring at Carl, who hadn't risen.
"First rule," he said, "you can't always fight on your own terms. Second rule: you can't always pick your terrain. Third rule: adapt."
With that Carl rose to his feet and offered her his hand. She considered refusing it but her cramping muscles persuaded her otherwise. While she stood, uncertain of his next move, he started folding her furniture back down. When he finished and walked back into his room Robert entered with her bags.
"Not bad," he said, grinning.
"Six sigmas solid," she replied with heavy sarcasm.
"No blather. No blood and no broken bones. You definitely impressed him." On seeing her expression Robert's turned serious. "Robin, don't deceive yourself that what we're doing isn't deadly dangerous. We're not dealing with people who play nice and they certainly don't play by the rules. They don't fight fair and they don't think twice about taking advantage of any weakness. The way you win against 'em is not to give them any." Now he smiled. "Take a hot shower. Things will look better once you're out."
***
Ferrel sat across the table and stared at Micah.
"She wasn't holding back." Micah spoke as if to himself but Ferrel knew better. "I'm ninety-nine on that. She's a bloody quick study. She won't take any time getting competent. That one percent still bothers me, though."
"How is she against Vera?"
"I know Vera's sneaky. Robin is either exactly what she says and just good or holding back and a ruddy good actress." Micah sighed.
"Prowl the ship on it, my brother. It's my turn now."
***
When Robin emerged from the shower, indeed feeling better, she noticed the door to the other room ajar. Robert looked up when she opened it.
"Welcome back, lady," he grinned, putting away the cards he'd just shuffled. "Get your terminal."
Puzzled, Robin did so. Nothing seemed out of order when she powered it up but she'd not trust that until she verified it. Robert motioned to the chair across from him.
"What now," she asked.
"More combat
."
Robin's muscles twitched at this but Robert merely produced a terminal of his own. He then meshed the two.
"Now show me what you've got!"
She had no difficulty reading the challenge in his eyes. Nor, for that matter, the amusement. So he didn't think she could burn! By stars he'd learn his lesson the hard way!
"Not bad, lady," grinned Robert.
Robin returned it, flexing her fingers. She had no doubt of his expertise as a burner but now he knew her measure. They started with a few simple burns with his box configured for security and progressed beyond that very quickly. Several times Robin pierced his innermost security. He'd have nothing of value there, she knew that, but still she basked in her victories.
"Why thank you," she said, "You're pretty pyro yourself. That last dog was pretty vicious. Did you write it?"
"Improved it. It's called 'here kitty kitty' and it's a luscious lure." He grimaced. "The first time I saw it was from the outside and it ruddy nearly spiked my whole box."
"It would make good burnware. Adapt it for attack instead of defense."
"Not really. Not processor-efficient and it requires a lot of anchors in its area. Doesn't stretch or scale well at all. It squelches delta on defense but reeks orbit-wide the other way. I've got the sources if you want them."
"Polar. Is it open?"
"Not a chance in hades," he replied, squirting her the data, "This is plus-plus hotware where it was developed. Now tell me about that thermal worm of yours. Is it AIdaptive?"
"Nak," she said, "My box won't do AI in burntime. I'm just a good guesser." Robin smiled but inwardly thrilled. Robert had given her information. She couldn't consider its full implication now but she carefully noted it for later.
"That you are," he affirmed, "Pious question: are you up for another round?"
"Make it happen!"
***
Robin spent the rest of the trip dreading and enjoying her days. The sessions she spent with Robert honing her skills she loved. He passed along a lot of tricks she never considered then expected her to use them. Other times one of them configured a terminal for security and the other tried to penetrate it. Robert didn't really decompile other people's warez but he had a deft hand at working up his own.
The other times, the ones Robin hated, she spent with Carl. No matter how well she did or how much she improved he expected more. Robin knew, mentally and physically, that she learned multiple orders of magnitude more than Jasworth taught her. Still, Carl had a constant, predictable habit of taking her to the verge of tears and beyond, then expecting her to fight past them.
Her identity formed another point of contention. Carl gave her a chip with all the information she could possibly need and he expected her to assimilate it instantly.
"Up," said Carl, emotionless as always.
Robin rose slowly to her feet. Her left arm and leg hurt more than usual today; the word 'gentle' did not appear in Carl's training vocabulary.
"Ready stance," said Carl, "Tell me about your boyfriend in college."
"His name was... Jack..."
Carl chose that moment to attack. Though Robin defended she stopped talking to do it. In the middle of the sequence he reached past her defenses and thumped her forehead. It didn't hurt but it did serve its purpose by humiliating her. She bit back her words as the attack intensified. Experience taught her how Carl reacted to sharp words during a workout.
"Go on," he said, mid-punch.
"His... His name... Jack. He was..." Robin defended a flurry of blows. "He was majoring..." She defended again but several punches and a kick leaked through, rattling her. "Majoring in..." Carl feinted a kick. She dodged it easily only to collide with the wall. "He was majoring in mass murder!" She snapped the last, her anger finally boiling past her ability to control it.
She didn't see the next set of kicks and punches; Carl simply moved too fast. Stunned, staggered and out of breath Robin sagged against the wall. Before she could slide to the floor she felt a rough hand grab her throat, just under her chin, and force her eyes upward.
"Focus, burnit!"
Now Robin saw emotion and wished she hadn't. Carl angry was ten times worse than Carl without! He knew he could crush her like a troublesome insect and by the look in his eyes he considered doing just that. Fear paralyzed her. She saw nothing more than his eyes and they grew to fill her entire universe. Just a little more pressure would stop her breathing. Time stretched, and slowed, and stretched, and slowed. She felt a hot tear trickle down her cheek.
After an eternity Carl released her. Even splayed against the wall she nearly fell.
"Don't fight," said Carl, anger gone, "If you're ever in a situation, don't fight. Just smile and go along with it and maybe you'll survive."
"What?" The weakness of her voice surprised Robin.
"I said don't bother trying to fight. All you're going to do is torque off your attacker and make things worse. Just go along, don't try to fight, stay meek and passive and maybe you'll live."
When Carl turned away Robin felt the tears spilling from her eyes.
"wait. Wait!" Robin had to force the words out. "Get back here! We're not finished!"
Robin threw herself forward in, perhaps, her clumsiest attack ever. Carl defended absently, with no effort whatsoever, neutralized the attack and set her gently on the floor.
"Rut you! I said..." Robin flopped forward and tried to sweep his feet. She missed but she still heard something crack.
Carl turned back. "Don't do that," he said, emotionless as ever.
How long she sat there on the floor Robin didn't know. She wiped angrily at the occasional tear that slid down her face. She tried to tell herself she shouldn't feel humiliated, that she shouldn't feel bad. She succeeded a little.
"Hi lady," came Robert's voice.
She thought about answering but decided not to.
"Hey. I'm not going away," he said, "You might as well talk."
"He's a rutting bastard!" Hot with anger, the words brought more tears. "I hate him!"
A gentle hand lifted her and guided her to a chair. She still swiped her cheeks furiously. Though Robert didn't smile his eyes held a gentle sympathy.
"I'm on your side, burnit! Just in case you didn't know. I could have stayed behind but I didn't." Robin's bitterness surprised her. "Since you're so bloody good why did you even bring me along?"
After a moment of silence Robert spoke.
"Because you're pretty bloody good yourself."
"For truth," said Robin, bitterness and sarcasm dripping from it.
"Robin, the people we're after..."
"Are dangerous," she said, "I know that, burn it all. Wherever they go people disappear or die and they might as well eat babies. I know they're evil, nasty, vile and plenty more words like them."
Robert sighed. "Robin, you know that here," he tapped her head, "but you still need to learn it here," he pointed to her heart, "We're trying to keep you alive. If you want I can probably convince him to leave you on Salva Secore."
"No!"
"Robin, think about..."
"I said no! My boyfriend's name was Jack. He was majoring in xenobotany and synthetic plant genetics. We were engaged 'till he found a big-chested vix from Darton's World." She continued detailing her life circa the chip she read. When she finished Robert bestowed a mischievous grin.
"Polarity. You might want to get some sleep now. We're grounding tomorrow with a couple of days' layover. No sense wasting them."
She managed a shaky smile in return.
Chapter 7. Epiphanies
The next morning found Robin at breakfast with Robert and Carl. He acted as though nothing had happened, engaging her in idle chat and expecting the same from her. Not long afterward the captain announced their arrival at Salva Secore. The crew secured the passengers in the boarding lounge, again offering tranqs.
Despite the other emotions bubbling within her Robin felt a thrill as they stepped off the boarding ramp and ont
o the soil of Salva Secore. The buildings looked the same but Robin ignored that.
"Remember this," said Robert, "It's never the same again. Never like the first time."
Robin smiled and took his arm. Then she half-stumbled as she realized what she did but Robert merely smiled back at her.
Robin stared around the terminal building as Carl went to claim their luggage. Robert excused himself, returning after a short time with a small bag.
"Here," he said, handing Robin and Carl a pair of sunglasses, "UV's pretty bad here. I also have some sunblock if we need it."
Robin puzzled over this. Along with the shades Robert handed her a keycard. She looked quizzically at him but Carl answered.
"That's to a locker here. If things go bad there's enough there for a ticket back to Echo Bend and a little more to get yourself lost."
Despite Carl's dire words Robin enjoyed her first two days on Salva Secore. The port city, Salvasec Down, catered to tourism as its, and the planet's, primary industry. The system lay at the hub of six trade routes between other systems and next to tourism shipping and handling cargo formed a significant part of its economy.
After dropping their luggage at an inexpensive motel Robin and Carl wandered about the town and did mostly what other tourists did. Though sloppychic wasn't nearly as popular here Carl stopped derisive comments with a cold stare.
Although the two of them did nothing outwardly un-tourist-like Robin knew they accomplished a lot, though not exactly what. Everywhere they went Carl used his holocaster frequently and often on things real tourists would consider dull and mundane. When Robin asked he merely looked at her but she knew and he knew it!
"... and you'd have loved it," said Robin, to Robert.
"I know, dear, but some of us do have to work. But I am up for some fun tonight."
Robin lifted an eyebrow.
"Evening pub crawl," he said.
***
Robin didn't like the first stop on the tour. The room was hot and smoky, the music was loud and it was mostly primate. Still, most of the crowd consisted of sloppychic or powerchill so she grimaced and twitched to the overly-emphasized beat. Before long a bashpit formed around the stage and Robin backed away quickly. When she turned she saw Robert clearing the crowd in front of them and Carl beside her making sure she didn't get slammed.
