The Green Ones

Episode 4, Part 5

The stench inside is so pungent, my first concern is washing it out of my hair. Then I realize the odor isn’t the worst of it. Yetic had been dressed conservatively. Hair I can wash. Eyes are a different matter. Flush with heat and dizzy from fumes, I focus on the section of concrete floor in front of me.

I’m here with Neca. Just stay close to Neca. I repeat the words as a mantra while stepping on Neca’s heels. Why isn’t he moving faster? Time slows. Neca’s normal swagger morphs into a slow-motion saunter. The rippling humidity and sweat seems to soak up all sound. Doesn’t he know everyone is looking? Of course he does. Idiot. I chastise myself and grit my teeth.

It’s almost as if an old, injured alpha wolf has returned from a failed hunt. The pack stops everything to smell the blood and swell with challenge. Each of them is considering the new order after Neca’s demise.

Maybe they’re focused too intently on Neca to notice me. But it’s hopeless. I’m wearing more clothes than the six closest fighters combined. Only Neca comes close in the quantity of covering, and before I can avert my eyes he’s pulling his top over his head. Why is everything so quiet? I struggle to breathe.

Suddenly, Neca slaps his hand on his locker door. The entire room bursts back into motion. The banter and the clacking weights return. The slowed motion speeds up. Finding a stool, I collapse onto it and breathe deeply. Raising my head, I dare a peek toward Neca. Having hung his shirt inside the locker, he’s resting his head on his forearm.

“Everything okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah, fine.” Grabbing a sparring uniform, he sits next to me. “Some things I’ll miss. Some not so much.”

Not knowing what else to say, I simply nod as Neca changes. Mercifully, he suits up in the much less revealing uniform fighters use for sparring, rather than the loincloth that appears to be the standard.

Even so, I’m forced to find something else to focus on. Cautiously, I shift my stare from my feet to a set of practice cages. Only one of them is currently in use. Charged with telekinetic energy, it shimmers like the shield dome. The cage floats midway between floor and ceiling while the two fighters locked inside float in the middle of the cage.

The charged nickel and copper mesh ensures that no one outside the cage can interfere, as well as ensuring the fight doesn’t spill out to harm the onlookers. I’ve never understood how. My father had tried to explain it to me using terms like wavelengths and electromagnetic radiation. In the end I had to take his word for it.

The sparring fighters are novice grade. That much is noticeable instantly. Several other fighters watch, and it seems a safe and appropriate place for me to focus my attention.

Floating in the center of the seven-meter cube, they practice their mental deflections. One uses a physical attack while the other employs a telekinetic defense. Then they swap. It’s a basic exercise, and yet I’d probably end up with a bloody nose on my first attempt to block.

I shudder as I think about life in the academy. Combat training starts two months in. How many of these fighters, like Yetic, are planning on registering along side Olin and me? And have already mastered these simple techniques?

I’ve been so worried about getting into the academy, I’ve failed to consider how to get ahead once on the inside. Olin is a natural. He’ll catch up in no time. What about me? And in a real life combat situation an enemy will employ telekinetic and physical attacks at the same time. They certainly won’t provide advanced notice or take turns.

Neca slams his locker, jolting me from my thoughts. “I’ve gotta warm up.”

“Okay,” I mutter as I stand. He’s angry, but I’m not sure if it’s because of me or something else. Not wanting to be left alone, I shuffle behind him. Someone whistles nearby, possibly at me. I don’t dare acknowledge. If ever there’s been a poor time and place to pick a fight, this would be it.

Neca stops next to a bizarre structure sprouting from the corner of the large open room. It’s like a cage, but built into the floor and walls. The inside of it bristles with an odd assortment of padded appendages, like an inverted porcupine. Neca pushes through a narrow door and slams it shut after him.

The cage jolts to life with telekinetic energy. Where the energy is coming from, I’ve no idea. Masa would never allow such an illegal drain on the mind pits. I tense as someone sidles up next to me.

“No one owns the gauntlet like Nightmare.”

I glance at the stranger, “The gauntlet?”

He nods toward the cage Neca entered.

As he does so, the gauntlet activates. Instantly, the name makes sense. In a burst of frenzied animation, the appendages within the cage swing and jut and twirl. So many of them move simultaneously I can’t keep up. They invade the interior of the cage with such ferocity, there hardly seems space for Neca to move.

And yet, he’s moving more quickly than the attacking arms. He spins sideways, flips, bends over backward, bursts forward, tucks into a ball. The motions blur into each other. As far as I can tell, he and the device haven’t come into contact with each other. This goes on for an unbelievably long time—probably less than a minute, but the intensity renders it an eternity.

I risk a short glimpse over my shoulder. Once again, all eyes are on Neca. This time there’s no blood lust. Instead, tails go between legs. The old wolf still demands admiration among the pups.

I focus on the gauntlet and wonder when it’s going to stop. How can Neca sustain this? Is he risking further harm to put the pack in its place one final time? Neca’s shape blurs as the speed of his movements intensify.

Suddenly the cage jerks as it collides with him, but he doesn’t slow. If anything, he speeds up. The cage starts to rattle and bounce. Nervously, I look around the room. Everyone has gone wide-eyed. No one is doing anything to stop it. Somebody has to do something.

I lurch for the door.

Before I can reach it, Neca screams. Exploding into a wall of the gauntlet, he pulses with a blinding white light.

Covering my face, I dive backward as the detached wall careens across the room. By the time I scramble to my feet and turn, I see Neca standing in the gap where the gauntlet wall used to be.

Breathing heavy and dripping with sweat, he appears unharmed. And he’s smiling.

“Neca?” I move closer. Something’s not right. His smile is too angry.

He stares past me.

A voice booms from across the room. “Nightmare, what the hell you trying to prove?”

Neca pushes past me, his smile morphing into a snarl. “Just warming up.”

“Well get in here for your physical before you warm the whole place up. That’s coming out of your winnings, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

With the mention of Neca’s physical I stride after him. I’ve got a purpose now, a reason to be here. And nobody’s going to stop me. I pass Neca on the way toward the open door where the man in charge had poked out his head.

Neca reaches for me, but I dodge his grasp. “Calli, where are you going?”

“I’m going with you.”

“It’s just a physical. It’d be better if you waited—”

“Can it, gauntlet boy.”

He huffs, swearing under his breath.

Let him swear. It won’t stop me from hearing what the doctor has to say. Who knows, maybe after what I just saw…maybe Neca is strong enough to fight. If not, I won’t let the underground chew him up and spit him out. Not now. Not like this.