by S. L. Viehl
Ren took point, and I put Galena between us so I could watch the rear. The ridges provided protection
for a few scant meters, then began sloping down and playing out as ice hills and mounds fringing the
broadly fractured surface of the plateau. Plas-Face made a complicated gesture, and Galena leaned
forward to whisper an interpretation.
“Ren wishes us to go one by one to the next rise. When I arrive, he will move to the next, and so on until
we reach attack point.” Her wings fluttered under her parka as she rubbed her arms. Cold made her little
face look pinched. “My feathers have frozen. I am afraid I will slip or stumble again.”
“You won’t.” I took a moment to rub my numb hands over the two bulges on her back, trying to restore
some circulation for both of us. “Just keep crouched over, at an angle, and you won’t fall on your face.” I
waited until Ren darted to the next snow mound, then let her go. “Now.”
Galena rushed forward, vanishing into the blue, horizonless immensity of the ice. The only way I knew
she’d made it was when she glanced back and I saw her white face appear against the snow. Then she
nodded, and it was my turn to run.
The surface ice felt dense and slick under my footgear, like arena turf after a hard rain. Automatically I
adjusted my center of balance, keeping my arms out and my blades tucked in my sleeves. We
progressed in that one-two-three darting fashion until we were together and crouched behind a tiny bank,
just west of the enemy lines.
“Akkabarran kill zones are here”—Ren touched the lower left part of his chest—“and the necks. Ready?”
I nodded, then glanced at Birdie, who was so cold she looked drowsy. At once I gently slapped her face
with the tips of my fingers. “Wake up, sweetheart; we have to go and kill a bunch of people.”
Some of the daze cleared from her eyes. “I… I am ready.”
We transmuted our blades to raen form, then at a nod from Renor ran out single-file onto the ice. Kol
and the others attacked at the same time from the east, and battle ensued.
I forgot that I was cold, that we were fighting simulations. All the noise and discomfort left my mind and I
reached for that no-mind, no-self calm I’d found fighting Kol and Ren. It came over me like a warm
wave, settling my nerves, making it easy to lift my sword and thrust it into a chest or slash open a throat.
The Akkabarrans fought silently, as we did, with only grunts and gasps of breath punctuating the wild fire
of their rifles and the faint whistling of our blades against the wind.
I killed five before I realized we were being outflanked by a secondary line, and sidestepped to get back
to back with Ren. “They’re coming around!”
He made the same gesture Kol had in the quad—Guard the House—and pointed to Galena.
“She’s fine.” I’d already glanced at her a few times, checking, and Birdie was holding her own. “We have
to circle back, drive them in.”
He cut a simulated warrior open from neck to groin, then whipped his head to the side. “No way
around.”
There was, but I’d need his help. “This nudge thing you do, can you do it to more than one person?”
“I believe I can. I have never tried.” He ducked as another sim hacked at him with its scythe; then Ren
darted behind him and ran his sword through its back. “What do you want to do?”
“Birdie’s going to fly me over the line, and you’re going to help her.” I waved to Galena, who jumped
through an opening between two approaching sims to join us. She was bleeding from a cut on her face,
but the drowsiness was gone.
“They are spreading out to the south.” She panted the words.
“I know.” I jerked off her tunic and checked her wings. “Stop flattening them. I need you to fly. Right
now.”
She looked stricken. “I cannot.”
My hands shook as I rubbed the bloodless arches behind her shoulders. I knew she had been making
practice jumps almost every day in the simulators, when she thought the rest of us weren’t paying
attention. I’d seen her stay aloft for a few minutes, at best.
“Either you carry me over to plug this line, or we’ll lose the fight.” I turned to Ren, who was holding off
stray attackers with concentrated effort. “You weigh more than I do, right?”
“Yes, by twenty kilos at least.”
I faced her. “It has to be me, sweetheart.”
“Jory, I cannot—” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Very well. I will try.”
She kicked off her footgear, ran back a short distance, then darted toward me. About ten yards away
she jumped and stretched out her wings. I caught her feet as she sailed over my head, and prayed my
weight wouldn’t snap them off.
Something invisible gathered around me and pushed up.
We hovered barely ten feet above the surface for several moments, and I had to yank my legs up to keep
from being pulled down by the sims. Then the invisible force pushed again, harder, and Galena soared
upward.
We were airborne.
It took only another minute to outdistance the flanking secondary line, and then we dropped to the ice. I
caught her as soon as my feet touched down and steadied her as she folded her wings and sagged.
“Here.” I stood her upright and tore off my tunic and footgear. “Put these on before you cube.”
Her gray face looked wanly up at me. “You will freeze.”
“I’m bigger and fatter than you. It’ll take longer.” I turned to face the rushing blur of the warriors we’d
outsmarted. “Put them on and get out your sword; here they come.”
We spent the next frantic minutes driving the enemy line back toward the center of the ice. Kol and his
team managed to herd their side in as well, and we ended up facing each other with a dozen wounded
Akkabarrans snarling between us. They were the most complex simulated warriors I’d ever faced,
programmed to execute sophisticated attacks, and it took a while to kill all of them.
By the time we were done, I was covered from chin to knees with a heavy frost of frozen blood and
gore, and so numb I couldn’t feel my sword anymore.
I looked through gritty eyes at the others, who had a variety of small wounds and an equal amount of
Akkabarran smeared all over their blades and parkas. “Are we having fun yet?”.
A few seconds after the last body fell, the simulation vanished, leaving us pacing in a miserable circle in
the center of the floor. The harsh yellow glare of the energized grid mesh faded as the trainer appeared,
making notations on a datapad he carried.
He didn’t even bother to glance at us. “You seven are exempt from training for the remainder of the day.
Report to the infirmary for treatment.”
“How about ‘nice job, way to go, you nailed them’?” I planted my numb hands on my numb hips, and
eyed the window in the simulator’s wall. Uel still stood, watching. “Or is that too much to ask?”
Now the trainer swiveled to face me. “You do not deserve praise. This task should have been completed
in half the time you took. Your attacks were slipshod and reckless. Prevailing winds should not have
allowed your winged comrade to attain flight. And as for abandoning proper weather gear to protect
another, on the surface of the actual planet, you would have died from exposure almost instantly.”
Sparky threw out her arms, scattering everyone around her. “We endured this,
only for you to tell us we
failed? What was the point of the exercise?”
The trainer sighed and gestured to the door panel. “Report to medical. I will review the errors involved
with this session in depth tomorrow.”
I headed for the door, but my feet were so cold I couldn’t feel the floor, and I stumbled. Nalek caught
me before I landed on my backside, and swung me up in his arms.
Feeling clumsy and embarrassed, I pushed at his chest, but my arms refused to cooperate and went limp.
In spite of my feeble lack of energy, I still protested with, “I can walk.”
“You can fall, as well.” He shifted my weight. “What you did for Galena was a noble thing, and I think
you may have saved us all. Allow me to do this much in return.”
Kol was right there, beside Nalek. And although he wasn’t looking at either of us, I could feel how angry
he was.
Yeah, well, you had your chance, pal. I let my head thunk against Nal’s strong shoulder. “Okay.”
As he carried me out, I saw the Blade Master leave the observation window.
The medical people patched us up, but they kept me in a berth overnight for observation. Kol got
permission from Dursano to leave Nalek behind to watch over me, then came back a few hours later to
relieve him.
“I’ll live,” I told him once we were alone. “Go get some sleep.”
“How are your feet?”
“They hurt.” I looked down the length of the berth at the bandages they’d wrapped me in from midcalf
down. “They burn like they’re on fire. Doesn’t seem right, after being so cold.”
“And your knee?”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“You’ve been favoring it since we began blade training.” He flagged down the doctor. “Healer, what of
Sajora’s right knee?”
“What of it?” The doc picked up my chart and switched it to display. “It’s artificial, constructed and
augmented with parts I’ve never seen used for an organic replacement, and the internal plates have
deteriorated badly.” He snapped off the chart. “I can’t perform the kind of reconstructive work she
needs.”
“Find someone who can,” Kol said.
“Let me handle this, Doc.” When he left us, I struggled to get into a sitting position. “Listen, there’s only
one thing he can do about my leg, and that’s amputate it from the knee down. However, it’s my leg, I’m
very fond of it, and I’m keeping it.”
“I will speak to Uel.” Unused to sitting, Kol carefully perched on the edge of a chair by my right side. “He
can bring in a specialist.”
“The guy who rebuilt this knee is serving at the front.” I flopped back against the pillows. “I don’t trust
anyone else to touch it.”
He gripped the handrail. “Then have them completely remove the cyber tech and replace it with what is
normally used.”
“Even if you could talk them into doing that, do you know what the recovery time would be? Six weeks,
minimum.” I snorted. “And in case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t any blade dancer rehabilitation units
around here. If I can’t train, Uel will kick me out.”
Metal groaned under his fingers. “Is it worth your life?”
That was a pretty good question, and I considered it. My knee was only going to get worse. Every time I
fought, I revealed more of my weaknesses to the other third-level trainees. They’d jump on the chance to
disable me permanently. But I was more than one artificial joint, and I knew I could handle anything they
threw at me. As for the knee, it had held together for eight years; it could stay together for a few more
months.
“Yes.” I looked at my hands, which were bruised and swollen from frostbite. “It’s worth it.”
He let go of the dented rail and took my hand in his. “Then I will do what I can to help.”
“You could tell me something.” I thought of what he’d said to me that night in the lavatory. “What, exactly,
do jaspkerry and safira smell like?”
“Jaspkerry is sweet; safira is stronger, spicier.”
That sounded like Chinese food, and made me smile. “Could be worse, I guess. You smell like rain on
pine needles, you know.”
“Needles?” He glanced at an instrument tray and made a face. “Surely not.”
I chuckled. “No, they’re leaves. Really thin leaves.”
We sat in silence after that for a long time, and I dozed. The next time I woke up it was nearly morning,
but it looked like Kol had been sitting up holding my hand all night.
“Hey.” I sat up. “What time is it?”
“Nearly the hour to report for training.” He paused. “I was angry at you yesterday. Your pardon, lady.”
“None is required, warrior.” I frowned. “You mean in session, or when Nal carried me out of there?”
“You did what was right, protecting Galena from the elements, but at great cost to yourself.” He made a
sound like a growl, and added, “I did not like seeing you helpless. You might have fallen with far greater
wounds before the end of the simulation.”
I lifted my shoulders, feeling uneasy. “You’d have done the same thing.”
“Of course.” His mouth curled on one side. “We are much alike in our regard for our kin.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I eyed Danea approaching through the ward entrance. “You like some of
them a whole lot more than I do.”
“She yet breathes.” She stopped at the foot of the berth and propped her hands on her hips. “What does
it take to kill you, Terr an? Two armies?”
I returned the sneer. “Go raise them and let’s find out.”
“Thaw first, ambitious one.” A few strands of her hair undulated and snapped before she turned to Kol.
“Uel sent me with a message. You will return to training now. And you.” She glanced at me. “If you do
not return today, you will be recycled to second-level training.”
That was all I needed to hear. I’d come too far to let a bad chill bounce me back to basics. I swung my
legs over the side of the berth, winced, then began stripping off bandages. “Kol, get my clothes.”
Maybe adrenaline was the only thing fueling my determination, but I dressed and accompanied Kol and
Danea back to third level. When I entered bladework training, the others welcomed me, and everyone
else gawked.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Birdie, then found myself in a light choke hold as she flung herself in my
arms and hugged me.
“I flew,” she said, and laughed, and danced around me fluttering before she hugged me again. “I really
flew.”
Over her shoulder, I saw Ren watching us, and needling guilt swept through me. She wouldn’t have flown
without his push, but there was no reason to tell her that now. Confidence was more important than
honesty.
“You carried, too.” I gave her a squeeze and set her down. “You are going to zoom rings around the
other bird people in this place, you know.”
She eyed some of the other winged trainees. “I think I may, ClanSister.”
Bek showed up to teach the session, which surprised me. “Why do you stare, Saj?”
“No reason, Trainer, I just thought you’d be staying on second level.”
“I go where I am directed. I also had similar expectations of you.” He studied the seven of us. “You have
done well in your first days. Strictly speaking, you should not ha
ve prevailed over the Akkabarran
simulation, however”—his cheek twitched, and he cleared his throat—“yours was an innovative solution
to resolving the secondary line.”
I grinned. “So even the teachers are impressed? Damn.”
He pretended not to hear that. “We will begin. Saj, you and Kol may demonstrate for the other trainees
the proper positioning for pass attacks.”
Pass attacks were the hardest and most complicated of long sword moves. Then I clued in on his
wording. “The positioning, trainer?”
“Yes.” The cheek twitched again. “Go through the patterns, but very slowly, so the class may attend you
with ease.”
Although my entire body ached, I’d been prepared to endure it and fight—not accept kindness and
understanding from the same Chakaran who had been drilling us into the floor every day for the last
several weeks. It was easy to be graceful and accept that. Very easy. “We’d be happy to.”
