by Curtis Hox
“Me, too,” Wally said.
Everyone glanced at Kimberlee, who had backed away but was unable to take her eyes from Nisson.
Hutto walked to his brother, smiling ear to ear. “You have to teach me this stuff.”
Nisson pointed at Yancey. “That’s what she’s here for.”
The rest of the students circled him as if he were some modeling black-sheep criminal on display for the world. Simone floated nearby and noticed how each part of him was honed for battle.
“How did you lose?” she asked.
He exhaled like a bull about to charge, loud enough that everyone stepped back. “You just say it so easily, little one.” The eyes in his skull were three times the size of a human’s, the color of rubies. “I lost. I did. I admit it. There, you heard me say it.”
“Who could beat you?”
Nisson laughed, and she thought she heard another voice hidden behind his. “There are worse than me, little one. Tell them, Agent Wellborn, what they get to face.”
“Dear,” Yancey said, “the Tricad have a few favorites they’ve taken from the league and ... morphed.”
“Tricad?”
“Three Rogues,” Tarean said, “who run the league’s regulated Fight Lords. My son lost to Gramgadon, an old student of mine, the same man who killed your brother, Jonen. He’s involved somehow. He’s retired, but I bet they’ll bring him out for the show. He’s a mean bastard.”
“Gramgadon,” Nisson said, “was unsanctioned champ five years in a row. I underestimated him. That’s how I lost.”
“He was ... the most dangerous Rogueslave,” Yancey said.
“Wait, Gramgadon?” Simon said. “Wasn’t that the old guy who made the announcement for the Rogues in the cafeteria?”
Yancey nodded. “The very one.”
Simone vibrated, as if zapped with electricity. “He couldn’t be the same man—”
“The Rogues turned him into a weakling to test him. He deserves worse,” Yancey said.
“Okay, Nisson,” Tarean said. “They’ve seen what you are.” To Yancey, he said, “Are you satisfied?”
She nodded. “He can bind to stop a full transformation. Good. We can use him.”
Coach Buzz had snuck onto the fight space. “That means he can control it ... when heated?”
“You bet I can, Buzzal,” Nisson said. The voice sounded like razors on metal.
Coach Buzz walked right up to the massive pit-fight demon, as if it were just a statue. “This thing looks like a third-grader dreamed it up.” Nisson looked down on him, scowling now. Coach Buzz continued. “Graucus, right? I wish I could have seen you lose to Gramgadon. How did it happen? My final moment was an ax to the chest. Yours?”
The scowl disappeared from Nisson’s face.
Simone watched the thing called Graucus fight to emerge, as if pushing at seams about to break. Its brow knit and a ripple of tension wracked its body. The manifestation that had changed Nisson’s physiology was a compromise. She had done that many times, but no where near as far with a real body. To manifest an entity almost, but not fully, meant it was feverish to push further into Realspace.
Simone glanced at her mother. “Mom …?”
Coach Buzz stepped forward, as if he might kick Graucus in the shin. “Come on, Graucus. Final moment time.”
Nisson looked like he could feel the thing inside him near to bursting with hate. Simone guessed he contained a hurricane of energy. He either had to let it out in a controlled manner, or shut if off, which would be dangerous at this point.
“Hutto,” Nisson said, ignoring Coach Buzz’s taunts. “Show me what you got.”
Tarean began moving everyone aside. Yancey helped.
Coach Buzz looked to Yancey. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
Simone watched as Hutto engaged in a stunning display of gymnastics and technical striking and grappling, but he could do nothing against his transformed brother. She saw with clarity what they faced. She also saw her mother watching with a smile. The demon-thing hidden in Nisson Toth was what her mother hoped for humanity. For a half second she felt revolted, fearing what it would be like to be that. Something inside her, though, reacted to the display of dominance by the foreign entity. She couldn’t stand the sight of it beating up Hutto.
After a smothering bear-hug by Graucus, Hutto flew across the fight space and tumbled in a heap.
Before he could jump to his feet, Simone expanded herself into a glowing blue form. “Fight me.”
Joss moved into position for a better view. “Awesome! I can’t wait to see Simone!”
“No, Simone!” Yancey said. “You can’t bind yet. You don’t have the control.”
She waved her mother away. “I can. Dad showed me last night.”
“Your father’s ways are too dangerous.” She realized what her daughter had just told her. “What did he teach you?”
“I chose my entity, Mom. I can bind it.”
“Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“Dad’s a ghost. You’re not. He said I would have my own challenges.”
Yancey stopped halfway to Simone as if turned to stone.
Nisson mumbled something. He was talking to his entity, what he called Graucus.
Simone continued her dance and let her entities come, knowing they would. Her chosen one wouldn’t mind that she was a ghost.
Yancey watched her daughter moving through the prescribed steps her husband had created. Simone was being pulled into Skippard’s disembodied world, leaving her behind.
She scratched at her bandages, annoyed she still had to wear them. She stood beside Tarean Toth and his two sons, one an Alter in training, the other an Alter so far down the dangerous path that he was a liability. The Alter students would all have to follow him, no matter what. It was to the arena they were to go, and that was his world. Her mouth watered with anticipation, expecting Myrmidon to react and beg to emerge, as she watched her daughter finish the last step.
The transformation was immediate ... Simone’s chosen entity roared in satisfaction.
Yancey glanced once at Cliff, who stood by the door. Three of his cydrones stood guard outside, making sure no one entered. She guessed he was here to make amends for betraying them because they had been right the entire time about the importance of the entities, and of ghosting. He looked like he wanted to make a run for the exits, though.
She also saw the fear in the recruits’ eyes. Beasley shook. Kimberlee stood with eyes wide like a blinded animal’s about to be run down by a truck. Little Wally stood with his chin up, unwilling to show his fear. Joss seemed to appreciate the magnitude of what was happening out in the open and stared with wonder.
As long as the entities remain our allies, she thought ...
Like Myrmidon’s younger sister, maybe. Simone’s scales were a shimmering gold. A beautiful monster, indeed.
Nisson’s was much more human-looking than Simone’s entity. But Simone was still there. Her entity had pushed outward to the surface, but it remained in check. It was giving itself to her. She had bound it. It looked more like a digital holo-projection than a real manifestation.
Nisson laughed with Graucus’ voice. “It ain’t here. That’s a ghost monster. Hell, it’s pretty, though. You lettin’ it own you, darlin’. Keep that peacock on a leash. I can tell it wants free.”
Simone lashed out.
Nisson backed up, avoiding the strike, and danced away with a shuffle step. “There we go. I bet it’s happy now.” He feinted, struck with a right cross, fingers now displaying talons that cut deep into her incorporeal body, sending sparks flying. Simone’s entity roared, and Yancey started forward.
“Glad-fighting,” Nisson said, “is about honor, discipline, perfection, precision, and everything needed for one man to beat another.” He dodged a wild forward volley and ended up on the other side of her. “But pit-fighting is about something else.”
He slid beneath the larger creature and struck upward with
foot-long blades that appeared out of his forearms. Simone’s entity roared, but Yancey heard her daughter’s voice echo her entity’s pain.
“Enough!” Yancey’s body was weak, but she would summon if she had to and pay for it later.
Both Alters and their bound entities stepped back.
She looked at Simone. “In the corner, your steps in reverse, until you’ve purged.” To Nisson, she said, “I’m a Consortium Psy-sorceress, buddy, and that’s my daughter. I’ll put you down if you don’t back up. Try me.”
Nisson raised his hands, now no longer sporting magical blades, and backed up. “I think I’ll go find some trees to knock down. I need some time before I’m right.”
Coach Buzz waved at him. “Take the back door. Stay on the ridge; stay in the woods. Don’t let anyone see you.”
“I understand.”
Nisson bowed once. Hutto waved. Tarean looked away in disgust.
“I want you to train them, not hurt them,” Yancey said.
Nisson laughed in a beastly baritone. “Hutto, young brother, tell her how it is.” He kicked open the back door, which almost snapped off its hinges.
“Glad-fighting is about embracing pain, Agent Wellborn,” Hutto said. He looked at Simone, whose entity snarled. “Is she going to be okay?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you stop it, then?” Hutto puffed his chest out, as if he were about to dispense some wisdom his father would be proud to hear him say. “If you enter the arena, you have to be prepared to suffer. It’s the honorable way.”
Tarean nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Coach Buzz walked over. “Welcome to the world of open glad-fighting. It’s a madhouse.”
“You fit right in,” Hutto said.
Everyone chuckled, and even Yancey smiled.
She saw a message in her HUD.
It was from Agent Nable: We need to talk.
* * *
“Hello, Ms. Newkirk,” Simone heard her mother say. Simone sat near Kimberlee, who lay snug under the covers in her dorm room, surfing the net, when her mother’s image popped up in a video chat. “No, it’s not too late, and, yes, they want us to do a test run next week.”
“Test run?” Simone asked, coming around so she could see the screen. “What do you mean, test run?” Her mother had taken the bandages off her head. Her shorn hair was growing back, at least. Even in the chat window, she still looked emaciated and sickly, though. “You look like a super model, Mom.”
“Hey, at least I can put on lipstick.”
Kimberlee laughed.
Simone shot her a dirty look. “It’s too soon. I’m not ready. I know that. Everyone knows that.”
“Not up to me. Simone, you have to understand—”
“I know you don’t want me doing this.”
“I don’t.”
“Dad doesn’t seem to mind.”
“No, dear, he does mind, but he also knows you’re involved because you’re his daughter. He always believed the most effective defense is a devastating offense. So, he thinks this’ll be for the best.”
“What a genius.”
“Don’t disrespect your father. Besides, what’re you two doing up? It’s a school night.”
“Just hanging out with Simone,” Kimberlee said. “I can’t sleep.”
“Seen too many monsters?”
“Yeah,” Kimberlee replied, and glanced at Simone.
“Please,” Simone said. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Sorry.”
Her mother told them not to worry, but Simone couldn’t stop worrying. They wanted her to be a glad-fighter. “I want you to prepare yourself, Simone. Your brother’s coming back.”
“So soon?”
“He’s not … himself. But he wants to be involved.”
“He won’t be happy about this, will he?” She’d had a feeling Rigon would leave the Rejuv Facility when he found out what the Consortium was doing with them. But he’d only been in for a few weeks; his body was barely functional.
“Not at all, dear. You know you’re brother.”
“He’s afraid of the entities as much as the Rogues.”
“Yep.”
“Okay, Mom, goodnight.”
Her mother said her goodbyes, and Simone let Kimberlee shut off the device.
“Is it tough not having a body?” Kimberlee hefted the tablet. “I mean, you can’t even turn one of these on. Right?”
“I can. Sure. How else do I do my homework?” She raised a finger and pointed it at the overhead light in the ceiling. It flickered. “I’m a Digi-Ghost. I can sense the electrical and cyber-systems here like you sense the wind. I can even manipulate them, a little. I’m getting more and more used to it now. I don’t even pay attention.”
Kimberlee tossed the tablet on the bed. “Are you excited about your brother coming back?”
“He’s only been in for a month or so, but yeah.”
“It’s only been that long?”
Both of them paused as they remembered the night the Rogue incursion began at Sterling. Everyone had thought Simone had been killed; afterward she’d floated down the hall of the Compsys room, freaked out Hutto, and given everyone a shock. Her brother had sacrificed himself in the school’s defense.
“How did it feel,” Simone asked to change the subject, “binding your entity?”
Kimberlee almost retreated to that place she always went when someone mentioned her problem. Her bottom lip actually quivered, as if she were quelling a panicky desire to run like hell and hide under a rock.
“It felt good,” Kimberlee said. “I was able to relax and just ...”
“Be?”
“Without worrying about losing control. Your mother said I was beautiful. She said I could do great things, with a little help. She also told me the Consortium will have a special role for me, and, listen to this, that I’ll like it.” Kimberlee pulled the sheets up to her chin. She peeked out, as if she were hiding. “But why am I one of those and you’re ... whatever you are?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet, but my parents are starting to open up.” Simone floated to the end of her bed, crossed her legs, and settled down well enough it looked like she was actually sitting there. “I do know that things are changing. The Consortium will be offering what they’re calling ‘legal upgrade packages to Transhumans.’ They’ll start off slow and steady. None of the powerful stuff yet. But enough to see how Alters react.”
“To become like us?”
“Like what Nisson got, but regulated, and way less powerful. If we do well, and can push back against the wacked Rogues, they’ll allow more of it for the public.”
Kimberlee glanced at Simone’s neckline. The initials SWML were just barely hidden. “That sucks.”
“What?”
“Having a Rogue after you.”
“They have to come at me—because I’m a Wellborn—through other means than how they got Joss.”
“He’s better now, I guess.”
“He looks better. I just hope he is better. My mom said that when the Rogues infect someone, it’s never a simple process to make them whole. None of that really matters. What matters is that they want something called the Protocols, and they want to use the glad arena to get them.”
“Beasley’s not taking this well,” Kimberlee said.
“She’ll get used to it. Wally has.”
“He’ll do anything if it helps him learn how to control those robots,” Kimberlee said.
“Wally’s doing his part. What has Joss said about all this?”
“He thinks this is awesome.”
“Of course he does.” Simone levitated off the bed, twirling translucent blue ribbons of digital energy through the air. “He’ll have to be careful because Interfacers like him who also summon or channel can get in trouble. The Rogues can mess them up. Like what already happened to him.”
Kimberlee’s tablet beeped.
“Hey, it’s Joss,” they both heard him say. “Wa
ke up.”
Kimberlee triggered it. “Were your ears burning?”
Simone couldn’t see him but the glow from the tablet lit up Kimberlee’s smiling face. She couldn’t tell if Kimberlee had a bigger crush on Joss or Hutto because Kimberlee giggled enough around both of them and shot faux evil looks to either with equal regard.
“I got news,” Joss said.
“So do we,” Kimberlee replied.
“My brother’s coming back,” Simone said.
“Shit!” she heard Joss say. “Hey, Simone. I didn’t know you were there. Your brother hates me.”
“He doesn’t. You’re just someone who got branded—”
“So did you. At least my brands are gone.”
“Lucky you.” She moved closer, as if talking to the back of the tablet were normal. “He’s had a change of heart.”
“He’s a Consort cycop. I’m lucky if he doesn’t shoot me when I’m not looking.”
Kimberlee cast Simone a zip-it look. “What did you hear, Joss?”
“Chatter in Cyberspace is that the Consortium will be sending a fight crew to a local unsanctioned event for a few matches.”
“A few matches?” Simone asked.
“The news is out there already?” Kimberlee asked.
“The fights will happen soon.”
“That’s us,” Simone said. “That’s what my mom was talking about.”
“I thought you should know,” he said. “Maybe you can practice with your whips or whatever.”
Simone laughed. “Like an invisible cowgirl.” She floated off the bed toward the middle of the room. “See you tomorrow.”
* * *
Before Kimberlee could persuade her to stay, Simone pushed through the ceiling and out of the building as if she emerged from a pool of water. She balanced in the cool, night air to right herself. She dimmed herself to the point of near invisibility. Above the dorms, she willed herself across the court yard to the boys’ wing and found herself dropping through the roof ... right above Hutto Toth’s third floor dorm room.
She was being presumptuous, and a bit naughty, she’d have to admit, as she settled inside his closed closet. She smelled the distinct odor of dirty sweat pants, rolled up towels, and—of all things—bubble gum.
Disgusting.
