The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus

by Jon Sourbeer,

  When Wouris reappeared, she speedily whisked them across the city and upwards along the trunk, many floors above the mess hall. Crossing a lonely bridge that sat separately from the ordered structure of the other branches, the cadets were greeted by a heavy, silent sealed door.

  It was dark inside, but a large skylight and a ring of windows created a glass dome through which starlight filtered softly down on the cadets. “This,” she spoke in a clear but low voice, “is known as the Beacon of Need. It is an area where any cadet, Adept, or officer may come at any time. You may use it freely, but know that it is dangerous if not handled respectfully.” She turned and walked into the center of the room, “Lights!”

  The room brightened slowly as wall and ceiling panels came to life with a soft glow. “This place will help you train. It is a place where you can face your fellow cadets, or test yourself.” She spoke loudly and clearly to no one in particular, “Rotate, slow!” The floor slowly rotated clockwise, moving the cadets in a circle along the outside of the room, while Wouris was turned slowly in the center, watching the cadets as most stared in wonder at the room. Celes looked unsurprised, but Janus found it difficult to conceal his fascination. Wouris spoke to them with a slight smile on her face, “Of course, this room can do much more than just go in circles, so feel free to come here when you have time off and experiment with it. All stop!” The room slowed and halted, and the cadets were left standing on the other side of the room.

  “Earlier today, each of you discovered that your current combat abilities are woefully inadequate to take on someone like Col. Hawkes. Tonight, I hope to improve your odds. Remember, you always want to force your opponent to fight on your terms.”

  Lyn whispered to Marcus and Janus, “Maybe Wouris isn’t so bad after all, especially if she can stop Hawkes from nearly killing us.”

  “Yeah, too bad for Ramirez, though,” Marcus whispered back, “he would have loved to have gotten in on this.”

  Wouris took them all through one on one training for several hours that night, showing them simple blocking maneuvers, pointing out errors and weaknesses, and demonstrating how to use an opponent’s movements against them. When everyone had had a go, she took up her position again at the center of the room.

  “Now, I know Keats is your strategy and tactics instructor, but I am sure she won’t mind if I give you your first lesson tonight. It is always important to remember that you should never let anyone gain a positional advantage on you,” Wouris took several steps backward, “even on good pretenses.” Janus felt a pit forming in his stomach.

  “These advantages can include height, distance…”

  Janus became suddenly and painfully aware that Wouris was now blocking the only door out of the room.

  “Or even something as simple as an exit. Now each and every one of you has some defensive training, but how will you do on offense? If you manage to get out of this room, you are free to go for tonight, including you two, Hughes and Kwandis.”

  “Now let’s see what you’ve learned!” Wouris raised her voice. “Chamber Test: Wouris I. Lock.”

  A disembodied female voice spoke up. “Command registered. Now accepting commands from Sergeant Wouris only. Initiating test sequence: Wouris I.” The door behind her locked and the room came alive with a strange hum.

  Suddenly, the floor dropped out from beneath the cadets, falling a meter and sending the group sprawling. Tilting upward, Wouris’ half of the room rose upward, granting her the high ground, and a small plateau with which to fight off attacks. She looked completely at ease, not even taking a fighting stance as she stood on her circular hill. Without hesitation, Janus and Marcus charged in. Wouris just watched the pair rush the hill with a smile.

  Just steps away from her, Wouris raised her arm, showing the back of her hand and made a brushing motion towards them. Janus felt the floor burst upward, sending Marcus and him flying backward. They slammed painfully into the floor and slid across it, stopping just short of the other cadets, who watched them, eyes wide.

  The cadets stepped backward, trying to get closer to the wall.

  Wouris shook her head, “Will you stay there like frightened rabbits? What if I don’t let you out? Will you let me control you? Will you wait there all your lives?”

  She made a simple gesture with her fingers and the wall behind the cadets sprang out, knocking the cadets forward. Her expression took on an evil smirk.

  “What if I don’t let you?”

  Her hand became a blur of motions, and the room sprang alive. The cadets went into a panic, as walls, floors, blocks, and bars sprang forth, attacking them from all directions. Cadets separated, trying to avoid the storm of blows, and watching as some were swallowed by holes and others lifted high above their comrades.

  “Come on, you worthless Bluebacks! Anticipate! Anticipation, reaction – these separate Adepts from the rest!” Wouris yelled.

  Janus leapt about the room, trying to stay ahead of the shifting and sliding onslaught. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of others that were not so lucky. But Janus focused on Wouris. And he started to see a pattern.

  “She’s using the same motions!” he exclaimed. She twitched in a new direction and a part of the wall slammed painfully into him, knocking him sideways. But he managed to keep his feet and saw another wall retract. He yelled over his shoulder, “We’ve got to attack her all together! She can’t force the room to do everything at once!”

  Some cadets looked uncertain, but Celes yelled and waved her hand, “Come on!”

  “You four with me!” Marcus said, pointing at Oleri, Freeham, Bynes, and Alexis. “Janus, I have the right!”

  “I’m going left!” Lyn yelled. With the rest of the cadets at least temporarily roused to follow they leapt and dodged across the room, charging towards their quarry.

  Janus repeated a mantra of in his mind, anticipate, anticipate; he glanced over a rising block to see Wouris coolly watching him, Anticipate!

  “Jump!” he yelled.

  Janus wasn’t sure why he said it. Whether it was because he deduced it, or it was a reaction to the slightest twinge of Wouris’ fingers, or simply a feeling. But he shouted it.

  And the cadets listened, leaping, just as the floor gave way.

  All of them cleared the gap, avoiding a disastrous fall. And suddenly, Wouris’ face became hard and grim. She held her hands flat and the chamber became still, the cadets charging forward. But then she did the unexpected; she charged, too.

  Janus smiled inwardly, they had her; she would be overwhelmed.

  What a fool...

  Her hands flew out like she was pushing against air and the floor sprang up, launching her into a high-speed flying kick. Janus felt a sudden, unexpected pain, as her heavy boot connected deep within his gut. As he flew backwards, and the rest of the cadets rushed by in surprise, a fleeting thought passed through his mind.

  …I am.

  Janus slid to a stop with Wouris right over him. He coughed up blood as she reached down and roughly hauled him up by the neck, “You have a lot to learn, Janus.”

  “You all are free to go,” she said, making a motion with her hand. The door slid open. Through Janus’ hazy vision, the door seemed so far away. “Except Janus. Janus gets a few more lessons from me about the price of leadership.” She slugged him in the jaw, knocking him back to the ground.

  The cadets looked uncertainly between Wouris and the open door. No one moved. Yanking Janus back up by his armor, she spoke over her shoulder at them, “Unless, of course, you want to see what surprises I have from this side of the room.” She opened her free hand towards the cadets, and the chamber immediately reacted, the floor dropping ominously. Her eyes never left Janus. The cadets stepped towards the door. “That’s bett—” the sound of footsteps behind her made her stop and shift suddenly, and Janus watched as a twitch of her hand made the floor explode upward behind her. A glimpse of blond hair made him realize Celes had come to rescue him, but Wouris was read
y, and she grabbed Celes on her injured foot, bringing her painfully to the ground. “You’re going to need a little bit more before—” Wouris dropped Janus and Celes and leapt back as Marcus and Lyn flew in.

  “Marcus, grab Janus – Lyn and I will block her,” Celes yelled as she leapt to her feet.

  Marcus hauled Janus up, “I got hi—“

  “That won’t be necessary,” Wouris cut in, standing up with a grin, “Chamber Test: Wouris I complete.”

  “Register,” the chamber responded, “test complete.” The light immediately dimmed again as the room went quiet, it’s dull hum disappearing.

  Wouris smiled, looking at all the cadets, who had come charging halfway across the room, “You all passed. There are many more trials before you’ll be true Adepts, but this was a good first test. You learned about the things that separate an Adept from a regular security trooper: your speed, your anticipation, your reactions. And your loyalty. That is what defines an Adept, it is what keeps us alive and whole; not just physically, but spiritually.”

  She threw Janus’ other arm over her shoulder and shook her head in pity, “And now it’s time to get our fearless leader here back to the Medical Branch so he can have another two-weeks of limited rations.”

  Janus groaned.

  High at the top of the dome, watching through the Beacon’s one-way wall, Praetor Jennings laughed.

  Chapter 17: Brevis Bellum

  Janus no longer required the alarms and sun-lamp to wake up in the morning. He just wished sleeping had gotten easier.

  His armor today was thicker, protecting him against the frosty weather. Valhalla was moving North and winter was upon it. Outside, frozen seas churned and swelled, the wave caps adding an appropriate white tinge under grey skies. The shift to cooler temperatures caught him off guard at first – the heat from the factories of Cerberus kept the slums warm year round, but he had adapted quickly enough. He glanced at the chronometer; he was up early again.

  Today he and the other cadets would perform a field training test in a joint weapons and tactics session. Flopping over in his bed, Janus reflected how the time had flown by. How long had it been? Months? More?

  Wouris rigorous training had pushed them to new limits of physical toughness, and he had learned all about the variety of Adept weapons: the standard Adept rifle – the Skadi, the Vidar sniper, the Fenris, and many more – and how to use them. They had learned the inside and out of Corporate tactics and strategy, and studied S.T. armor, learning its weaknesses and its strengths. But with everything Janus learned, he realized there was much and more he did not know. Every waking moment Janus could find he spent poring over Valhalla’s database. Math, science, literature, history. How humanity and the Corporations had changed each other, and how humanity had once been so much closer to the stars than they were now.

  Putting his hands behind his head, he reflected how each cadet had developed his or her own specialties and strengths, learning to rely on the others to eliminate their weaknesses.

  Celes had proven herself a fearsome marksman, becoming the standard for all the cadets. She had demonstrated this proclivity on just their second day with Northcott by successfully knocking all five targets out of the sky. She then repeated the feat at Northcott’s request, waiting until the discs were flying erratically before firing a single shot. Even her admission that she was not an unfamiliar marksman did not seem to lessen Northcott’s positive impression.

  Ramirez was the biggest and strongest of anyone, even of the full-fledged Adepts, much to Col. Hawkes delight. Ramirez didn’t yet rival Hawkes in hand-to-hand, but he was moving rapidly in that direction. Ramirez may have been quiet, but that just meant he listened all the more, and picked up techniques quickly. Designated a heavy weapons specialist by Northcott, if somewhat unfairly, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he would be a helpful man in a pinch, with, or without, a weapon.

  Lyn focused on her natural martial combat abilities, and showed real promise. Quickly diverted into a secondary training unit for advanced scouts, Lyn was the Adepts’ Adept – fast and silent. Major Winters, the leader of the ODIN’s scout force, had positively shivered with delight when she had seen Lyn’s natural predisposition for speed and agility.

  He and Marcus were tougher to categorize. The pair of them had excelled in general combat, and although they couldn’t match their friends within their specialities, they more than made up for it in strategy and tactics. They varied slightly, with Janus preferring a combination of methodical and direct approaches, and Marcus, who was slightly faster and bigger than Janus, preferring fast, unexpected attacks. These tactics carried over into the board game Janus had seen his first day and the pair now frequently enjoyed. It was like a variant of chess, a game called brevis bellum, or ‘short war’. It could involve two to four players, all fighting for domination over an octagonal board. The two were closely matched, and their games attracted quite a crowd, and a number of challengers, including some of the officers.

  A particularly memorable game had happened only a few days ago.

  It was a four-player match between himself, Marcus, Lieutenant Forrenza, and much to Janus and Marcus’ surprise, Major Northcott. Despite their initial skepticism regarding Northcott actually playing games, they quickly discovered that the Major was one of the finest players in all of Valhalla, second only to Keats and the Praetor. The goal was to capture and hold certain strategic points upon the board. Only by holding the strategic points could one achieve victory; pure destruction of the enemy was usually not the goal – not unlike many missions. Each player had a certain number of ‘deployments’ that could be used to purchase units at the start, each of which had unique advantages and disadvantages. It made each unit choice crucial.

  Unfortunately, it also made each unit loss a devastating blow. And Janus and Marcus had lost many units today. Individually they were fierce, but they had been at each other’s throats for the entirety of the game. Northcott had kept his forces reserved, only grabbing what points he could, without sacrificing units.

  “Brevis Bellum is a game of understanding the different forces at work on a battlefield, especially through the eyes of an Adept,” Northcott instructed. “I’m afraid that both of you are missing a key concept right now,” he grabbed his Fafnir gunship and advanced it 6 spaces, destroying another of Forrenza’s Hoplite infantry.

  Forrenza miserably glanced at her remaining Hoplite, saying, “I would figure it out gentlemen, or you’ll soon face a fate similar to mine.”

  Northcott advanced his own Hoplite two spaces, eliminating Forrenza’s final unit, “Shut out. I believe that’s double rations for me, Sergeant.” Forrenza sighed.

  “Geez, Forrenza, when are you going to learn?” a spectator called out.

  “I’ll get him eventually!” Forrenza shook her fist, “Besides, he actually has to win the game first. That’s a condition of the bet,” she looked doubtful of her chances even as she said it.

  Play returned to Janus, who advanced his Jormungand assault platform, his sole remaining unit with any real chance of doing damage. Other than that, he only had two surviving Hoplites. They moved behind the Jormungand – using it as a shield; there wasn’t much more they could really do.

  Northcott’s force was still essentially untouched, with three Garm tanks, a Fafnir, and a Hoplite. He had only 5 strategic victory points to Janus’ 8 and Marcus’ 9, but Janus knew that would quickly change. Northcott moved all three of his Garms towards the rightmost control point.

  It was Marcus’ turn. He had two Fafnirs and a Hoplite, not much to work with either.

  He pushed his first Fafnir forward, to a position where it could strike Janus’ Jormungand and Northcott’s Garm tanks. His second moved left, to a flanking position on the Garm’s.

  Northcott’s turn. He moved his Fafnir only 3 spaces, well within striking distance of Janus’ Jormungand. The move shocked Janus – it seemed so boneheaded. With one shot he could eliminate two enemy Fafnirs. No
rthcott and Marcus’. If he didn’t destroy the Fafnir, he would be exposed and would need to retreat or lose his assault platform to Marcus. He reached for his Jormungand, and suddenly, he understood what Northcott was doing. He pulled his hand away.

  Northcott shook his head, “Aren’t you trying to win?”

  Janus smiled, “Yes.” He turned to Forrenza, “You owe the Major double rations if he wins, right?”

  Forrenza nodded.

  “Would you give those rations to Marcus and me if we beat him?”

  Forrenza laughed approvingly, “Absolutely.”

  Marcus glanced at Janus and nodded with a smile.

  Northcott remained impassive, “Bold words. How do you plan to do that if you don’t start taking out my units?”

  “I won’t do that by eliminating your Fafnir.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes – destroying your Fafnir is exactly what you want. It will eliminate Marcus’ gunship, too. And if that weapon goes down, the whole line we have between the two of us will be broken, and you’ll overrun us with your tanks.”

  Northcott did not smile, “And what about Marcus? How do you know that he won’t destroy your forces and take the victory all for himself? Even if you beat me, how do expect to stand up to Marcus’ force once I’m gone? Destroying your opponent when you can, is that not how you play the game?”

  “Things change,” Marcus interjected.

  “Common purpose unites us,” Janus added with a joking smile.

  Marcus slapped him on the shoulder, “Namely, stuffing our faces with extra rations.”

  Marcus won. Janus’ Jormungand couldn’t stand up to both Fafnirs. But as Northcott stood up, gracious in defeat, he nodded to Janus, “Now you’re thinking like an Adept, and a leader.”

  The memory of the game brought a smile to Janus’ face. Just like the old games of checkers and chess he played with Clara when he was young; a set made from old caps and a raggedy cloth for a board. Janus sat at his desk, staring blankly at the screen. How is Clara doing? Is Middleton keeping her word? Middleton! That hag! Why would she? Janus felt his stomach turn. If he did not survive, if he did not stay an Adept, Clara would be cast back into the slums alone.