Stats:
Attack: 7
Defence: 9
Armour: 10,000
Movement Speed: 2
Weapon Slots: 2
Booster Fuel Capacity: 3
CORPS: 10,000,000,000 credits
He blinked at the CORPS. That couldn’t be right. He was suddenly glad this was only a simulation, he’d be bankrupt before he had taken a step.
The stats were impressive, but not enough to justify the price tag. It was basically a tank, a damage sponge that could take a beating, but wouldn’t be able to move quick enough to dish one out. It looked slow and boring.
The other mech was far more Josh’s cup of tea. It was less bulky and was wielding twin energy swords. It was dwarfed by the Defender, which was almost twice its height. He focused the bracelet on that one:
Level 2 Sentence Slasher
This mech is a close-quarters powerhouse and has the speed to close the distance quickly. It does not have enough armour to trade attacks and cannot equip ranged weapons. It is best used to get in, do damage, and get out.
Stats:
Attack: 6
Defence: 3
Armour: 2,000
Movement Speed: 8
Weapon Slots: 2 - Cannot equip ranged weapons.
Booster Fuel Capacity: 6
CORPS: 100,000 credits
By comparison the CORPS of the Sentence Slasher looked almost reasonable.
Teacher waited for Josh to be ready and said, “As I am sure you are aware, there is a large level difference between these mechs. Josh, you shall pilot the Defender.”
“Actually, Teacher, I would rather fight in the Sentence Slasher.”
The Teacher shook his head. “This is why we do not let A.I.s pick students. That is the wrong choice. Besides, you are not yet ready to attack, you must first prove you can defend.”
“Teacher, I don’t mind,” Frag said.
“Of course you will. We already know you can defend, it is the one thing you can do. What I am asking you to do is fight. You will never pass the bar if you cannot take down your opponent. Show me that you have learned something in all the years you have been here.”
“Sounds to me like a swap is better for both of us?” Josh said.
“Silence, trainee, you will do as asked.”
Another swipe of the data pad and Josh’s bracelet buzzed. He didn’t bother checking; he knew exactly what it would be. Darn tasks.
At least he could get in a bit more practice with his game controller. He needed to finish the mapping, but he should have everything he needed for this fight, especially if he was only going to be defending. He pulled it out of his backpack and pressed the centre button.
The Teacher noticed it immediately and bellowed, “What is that?”
“It’s my controller,” Josh said.
“This is a hallowed institute. We do not allow unauthorized control devices here.”
Josh said, “My A.I. told me it wasn’t against the rules for me to use this.”
“That may be true, but it is not how we do things here. We pride ourselves on teaching our students using the very latest equipment and techniques. Put that device away immediately.”
“But…”
“You will soon learn to eliminate that word from your language. I have asked you to do something, and I will not ask again.”
Josh stared at the Mech Controller on the desk. He’d already forgotten half of the buttons he had learned, and he had barely even covered the basics. He was about to ask for a refresher when the Teacher said, “Fight!”
Josh waited for the Sentence Slasher to charge, but it didn’t. It stayed back warily, its swords crossed, ready to block. He wasn’t sure what exactly to do, but he did vaguely recall the button combination for walking, so he tried that. At first he thought he had gotten it wrong, as the Defender didn’t move, but then he noticed that the leg was slowly lifting off the ground. At this rate the fight would be over before he reached his opponent. Every step was slow and jarring.
The Sentence Slasher did not capitalize on the Defender’s obvious struggles. It stayed as far away as it was possible to be, all the way across the arena.
“Frag, you cannot win this trial by hiding in the corner. Get in there and hit him!” yelled the Teacher. A few of the other students murmured their agreement.
With some reluctance, Frag moved the Sentence Slasher in for a hit. It was nippy in comparison, although so was paint drying. It reached the Defender quickly and then stopped moving long enough to land a couple of rapid slashes, which did no noticeable damage. Then it hastily retreated.
The Teacher tutted. “You are going to have to try harder than that, Frag, the Defender has one of the highest armour ratings of all the mechs. You must have a prolonged, sustained offensive.”
“But it can crush me in one hit with that hammer!” blurted out Frag, still retreating.
Josh really wished he could prove Frag right, but the attack controls were even more painfully slow than the walking. The hammer lazily raised into the air and then gravity did its thing, bringing it crashing down onto a spot the Sentence Slasher had occupied approximately three weeks ago.
Josh gave up on any semblance of a strategy and started hitting random buttons. It did not produce the desired results, but it did cause his mech to spin in a circle and hit itself in the head with the hammer. His button mashing paid off; he at least learned where the shield controls were located.
The Sentence Slasher came in for a fresh attack, and Josh swung the shield round to slap it aside. The smaller mech skidded and toppled, falling onto its back. If his reflexes had been quick enough, or if this button layout made an ounce of sense, he could have capitalized with a hammer blow to end this fight, but by the time he found the attack button again and lofted the hammer, the Sentence Slasher was already back on its feet and running away.
“This is why you have failed the bar twice. You cannot afford to be a coward. Attack!” the Teacher yelled, and Frag moved in for another round of ineffective slashes. This time he landed five hits before running away.
The other students lost interest and started to talk amongst themselves. Josh’s translator was working overtime, but he did his best to tune them out. He was still randomly hitting buttons and flicking switches, hoping to land a lucky hit.
The Teacher stepped in and slapped Frag away from the Mech Controller with one of his many arms. “Let me show you how it is done.”
As soon as the Teacher took control of the Sentence Slasher it stopped circling and moved straight in to attack. It spun and twisted, the twin blades flashing, chipping away at one of the Defender’s legs. No sooner had Josh moved the shield around to block than the Sentence Slasher switched to the other leg. Each hit didn’t do much damage, but there were a lot of them, and the armour slowly started to peel away.
Josh gritted his teeth as he desperately tried to do something useful. After a random combination of buttons his Defender dropped down and spun, the hammer whirling around like he was going to launch it. For the briefest of moments it looked like it might connect, but the Sentence Slasher quickly boosted away until the attack was over. Josh did his best to repeat it, but there was no telling how he had done it, and now wasn’t exactly the best time to try and figure it out.
Slowly but surely, the Sentence Slasher chipped away at the Defender’s armour, focusing primarily on the legs. Red lights started to illuminate on Josh’s Mech Controller, although he didn’t know exactly what they meant.
It was infuriating. Even with the Teacher controlling it, the Sentence Slasher’s movements were still choppy and stilted. It would dart in, stop moving, hack away, and then dash back again, each stage its own distinct phase. There was no flow, just cold precision. It was effective, but far from graceful.
The battle finally ended when the Defender’s left leg gave way entirely, toppling Josh’s mech to the arena floor. He could no longer swing the hammer or even shield bash; instead his mech turtle
d on its back and flailed its three remaining limbs around helplessly. If humiliation was what the Teacher was going for, he had certainly achieved it.
As the Sentence Slasher moved in for the kill, the other students started paying attention again. They were all very much interested in seeing the new guy getting pwned by the Teacher. As the twin swords raised up over the Defender’s head the Teacher said, “Let this be a lesson to all of you. A.I.s are very poor judges of talent.” He glanced over at Frag and added, “Congratulations, you are officially no longer the worst student in this class.”
The swords fell, and the trial was over.
***
Gargle stood outside the Nurse’s office and hesitated. He truly did not want to visit her again, but he had been given a verbal task by a senior authority, so what choice did he have? He slowly turned the handle and stared inside.
The Nurse was fast asleep at her desk, with an almost empty bottle next to her. Gargle picked it up and sniffed. Whatever it was, it burned his nostrils. He was about to put it back when the Nurse abruptly sat up and saw him. She snatched the bottle out of his hands. “That’s not for you.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Rubbing alcohol. Good for cuts. What do you want?”
“The Headmaster said that I had to visit you so you could assess my injury.”
“Go on then, what’s the matter?”
He pulled up his shirt and she shrugged. “You’re fine. It will heal up in a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks? I can’t wait that long. Is there nothing you can do to speed up the healing process?”
“I would ice it, but some bastard stole my peas.” She hiccupped and then squinted at him. “You look familiar.”
“I was in here earlier today,” he said, in an attempt to help.
“Rough day for you then.”
“Yes, you could say that. It has been quite the introduction.”
“You new here?”
“In a way.” He tried to tuck his shirt back in and winced.
“Suppose I should take a closer look at that, just to make sure nothing’s broken. Hop up here.” She tapped a padded table, and Gargle tentatively climbed up on to it.
The Nurse pulled up his shirt and tapped on the bruise. Each touch made him jump. He really needed to turn off this pain notification system; it was far too sensitive. He already knew the area was injured, why did it insist on continuing to remind him?
“You breathing ok?” she asked.
“I believe so.”
She pulled out a strange device, a small circle on one end and two buds on the other. She stuck the two buds in her ears and held the circle to his chest. The coolness felt soothing on the bruise, but the contact caused more pain.
He’d had quite enough; he needed to deal with this pain situation. He closed his eyes. There were a lot of automatic systems in this shell, but if he really concentrated, he should be able to turn them off. The problem was, there were just so many of them. He found what he thought was the right system, and flipped the switch.
His heart stopped. The Nurse squinted, tapped the end of her stethoscope and placed it on his chest again. Meanwhile Gargle was still playing around in the subsystems. He knew he’d gotten the wrong one, as his chest still hurt, but he didn’t appreciate how wrong he’d gotten it until he felt the shell slump over. He ignored it, and continued looking at his options.
The Nurse had dealt with many bumps and scrapes in her tenure at the school, and her ability to brush off any and all injuries, no matter how life-threatening, was legendary. One thing she’d never had happen was a student dropping dead in her office, right in front of her.
Panic kicked in. She had always suspected it would end like this, but didn’t think for a second it would be something so innocent as a bruised ribcage. There would be an enquiry of course, and a lot of questions she didn’t have answers to. The police would be involved, and if they took her fingerprints then it would be game over. Her past would finally catch up with her.
Perhaps there was still a chance. Maybe she could bring him back, restart his heart, just like in the movies. She’d never done it before, but how hard could it be?
Gargle found what he was looking for and flicked it on. Satisfied, he undid all his other changes, eventually restarting his heart moments before there was a crushing pressure on his ribcage. It was a rhythmic pounding. He opened his eyes just as the Nurse’s lips made contact with his, and his screams of pain were muffled as she blew air into his mouth. As she pulled back for another go he wheezed, “Stop!”
“Oh my god, I did it!” she shouted in pure elation. “I brought you back from the dead!”
“You did what?” Gargle wasn’t quite right. Apparently stopping this shell’s heart wasn’t a good idea and he made a note not to do it again. At least he’d solved his other problem.
The Nurse gasped as the bruise on Gargle’s chest slowly faded from blue to red, and eventually pasty white. She stared at her own hands. “It’s a miracle! I’ve healed you.”
Gargle was about to explain that she had done nothing of the sort, that he had finally found the subsystem for healing and cranked it up to max. However, she seemed pretty pleased with herself, and he didn’t want to ruin her celebrations. Instead he said, “Wow, thank you. Good job.”
“Good job? I saved your life!” A look of realization spread over her face. This was even worse than before. What if he said something? She couldn’t afford to be the hero, there would be too many awkward questions. She grabbed Gargle by the shoulders. “You must never tell anyone what happened here. I don’t want the world to know of my gift, I just wish to work here and help people. Will you respect my wish?”
“I guess?” Gargle said, more confused than ever.
“Thank you,” she said, suddenly relieved. “You should go home and get some rest, see how you feel in the morning.”
Gargle said, “Are you commanding me to go home?”
“Yes, doctor’s orders,” she said. That would buy her some much-needed time.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to do it.”
He was barely out of the Nurse’s office when Josh’s communicator started making a lot of noise. He pulled it out of his pocket and all it said was DICKHEAD! in large block writing, accompanied by a green phone. Gargle pushed it and said, “Hello Dickhead.”
“What did you call me?” yelled a voice on the other end.
“Is this Dickhead?” Gargle tried again, glancing at the phone to make sure he’d got the name correct.
“It’s Frank!” said the voice, definitely annoyed. “You have some explaining to do, you missed your shift yesterday. You promised me you would come in, and then you let the team down.”
“I don’t want to let the team down!” Gargle said in a panic. He had no idea who Frank was, but he must be important if he had a team.
“Well the good news is you can make it up to them right now. Simon’s still sick and I don’t have anyone to cover. What time do you finish school?”
“Actually I’m finished right now,” Gargle said.
“Perfect.”
***
Josh slunk away from the crowd and over to Shift. She stared at him, not trying to hide her concern. “That was…” She tried to find the right word and settled on “unfortunate.”
“It wasn’t a fair fight, I don’t know how to use these ridiculous Mech Controllers. You need to let me use my own game controller.”
“That is not my decision to make. This is Teacher’s law school, and the Blurgon High Command picks their battles with him. I cannot imagine this being one of them.”
“I’m sure you can convince them.”
“You are overestimating my influence. It would be prudent for you to learn how to fit in here, rather than trying to bend this highly regarded establishment to your own limited requirements. On Blurgon we complete our tasks and stay within the boundaries laid out for our class.”
Josh ignored her prote
sts. “If they could see me use it, I am sure I could convince them…”
“The High Command have more important things to do than watch the talent show of a trainee lawyer. I consider this the end of this matter.”
“Some help you are!” Josh muttered, storming away. He’d imagined coming here and schooling noobs in the art of virtual combat, but instead he was the class clown, a curiosity that they would soon tire of. That simply wouldn’t work. If he wanted to fail at school and be laughed at, he could have just stayed on Earth.
Josh noticed Frag standing all alone, the other classmates giving him a wide berth. He went over and said, “Seems like our Teacher likes you almost as much as he likes me. What did you do to piss him off?”
Frag hesitated, looking around to see who was paying attention, but nobody was. The show was over. “I failed the bar exam twice. You only get three chances to pass, and I have not yet worked up the courage to try again. If I fail again, I will be terminated and retired.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. How long have you been preparing for your third attempt?”
“72 years.”
Josh stared at the alien wide-eyed. “72 years! You’ve been a trainee lawyer for 72 years?”
“Yes. For a while I convinced myself I would soon try again, but then as time went on I became less confident of my victory, until I convinced myself it was foolish to even try. That is why Teacher hates me. I have been a student here since he was. I still remember how he was before.”
“How was he?”
“Arrogant. Rude. A bully.”
“Oh, so totally different to now, then,” Josh said with a smile.
“No actually. Very similar.”
Josh gave up and introduced himself. “I’m Josh by the way.”
“I am Frag.” He regarded Josh slowly, taking in his many distinctive features. “So what species is that shell you are using? It’s kind of funny-looking, and it smells bad.”
Grow Up Page 17
