He looked doubtful. “ABBY, Sinking Water simulation.”
“Commencing Sinking Water simulation,” ABBY echoed.
Suddenly, we were standing on a grassy bank, surrounded by canopy trees, at the edge of a glassy stream that stretched into the distance.
“You swim good?” he asked.
“Pretty good.”
“Good.” He smiled. “That should make this a lot more difficult.”
And, he shoved me into the water.
I sunk like a stone. Kicking, I broke through the surface again, gasping for air.
Kay’s voice was still somehow nearby. “In these waters, trying to maintain control is useless.”
A force pulled me back underwater, and I screamed. A swarm of bubbles escaped my lips. I could feel the current dragging me along. I fought hard, till I was back above the water. I gulped down the air greedily.
“What’s happening?” I cried.
“You’re fighting it,” Kay whispered in my ear, everywhere, nowhere.
I sunk again. My arms were getting tired. It was taking harder strokes and stronger kicks to move even a few units underwater. I came to the surface again, panicked.
“Relax, Arra.”
Now I could see Kay, eyes closed, hands behind his head, floating on the water alongside me. It was the strangest thing: seeing this hulk of a creature, resting effortlessly on the surface of water.
“Breeze, Arra. Stop fighting the water,” he said. “Stop fighting the current.”
So, I did. At first, my feet wouldn’t stop kicking; I forced them to. Then, my arms couldn’t resist paddling; I stiffened them by my side. I took a deep breath, and to my relief, and utter exhilaration, my entire body rose to the face of the water.
“That’s it,” Kay said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Let it go. Breeze. Let it all go.”
I relaxed my arms and legs, spread them out across the crystal surface. The water lapped at the side of my face, the current caressed my body. It tickled. I laughed.
“What do you think?” Kay said, turning his head to grin at me. “Feels meta, eh?”
It did. For the first time in a very long time, I was truly at ease.
For the first time, I was free.
By the end of Day Three, I had successfully thrown my first mana bolt. Well, I had successfully thrown something vaguely resembling a mana bolt.
“What was that?” Kay laughed.
“I don’t know.” I frowned. My bolt had been poorly concentrated, fizzling out even before it had reached the floating target ahead.
“Try ballin’ up your hands, and delivering your bolts like punches instead,” Kay suggested. “Might give your attacks some extra oomph.”
I felt a little silly, when I assumed the stance of a boxer. But then, I threw my next bolt with a punch and—boom! The target exploded into chunks of flaming wood.
I whooped, ecstatic. It had felt like breathing in through every pore of my body, and exhaling out of my fists. The feeling was intoxicating.
“How come you guys don’t throw bolts that way?” I asked.
“Because we want to knock out our opponents, not turn ’em into scrambled eggs.”
I punched out a few more bolts. Soon, I was woozy and out of breath.
“The better y’get at regulating your mana inflows and outflows,” Kay explained, “the easier this will get. You’ll get to the point where throwing a bolt of mana’ll be like cake. For now though, you should take a break.”
I nodded. But after a short break, I resumed my training.
By the end of the fifth day of intense training, I had gained a fair mastery over the art of throwing mana bolts. And so, I took my first test in the Absolute Simulator.
“Y’ready?” Kay asked.
We were standing in the great white. I flexed my fingers, popped my neck, and nodded.
Kay stepped back. “ABBY, commence Random World simulation, Training Exercise One.”
“Commencing,” ABBY said.
The white dissolved into tints of blue, brown, and green. I was alone in an open meadow.
“Hit the targets,” ABBY instructed. “Begin.”
I waited. At first I didn’t see anything. Then, I looked up.
There was a spinning, round object, falling out of the sky. I squinted. It was a disc. And it was headed right for me.
I punched; it exploded, and rained down shards of clay.
Silence. I kept my eyes peeled.
There was another flying disc. And another.
Two straight jabs sent my bolts piercing right through them. I breathed out, and smiled. So far, this was easy.
Three more discs appeared. I blew them away.
Five discs. They were no match for me.
Seven discs.
Just as I threw my first punch, ABBY’s voice echoed, “World switch.”
Wait, what? I thought.
In two blinks of an eye, dark clouds had embraced the sky, and the warm afternoon breeze had been stirred into a gale. Forks of lightning set the clouds ablaze.
Suddenly, hitting my targets was exponentially harder. The wild wind flung the discs out of their more predictable trajectories. But I was determined; I fired bolt after bolt, factoring in the flow of wind as I aimed. Just as I was getting the hang of it…
“World switch,” ABBY announced.
The wind stopped abruptly, and the grass turned to sand. I was in a dessert, and a sweltering one at that. Now, the discs weren’t falling out of the sky, they were popping out of the earth. And somehow, they were still headed my way.
I tried to keep up with the onslaught of discs, but they were coming faster now, in larger numbers. Didn’t help that I was getting sand in my eyes. But I couldn’t shield my face; I needed my hands. A few discs slipped past me, so I threw faster, harder. Then, my bolt missed another rapidly oncoming disc, and it made for my head. I rolled out of the way, right before it smashed into the yellow sand.
I stumbled back to my feet, only to be nicked on the cheek by a disc. Another one narrowly missed my left foot. I threw a few bolts. One disc collided with my chest. Hard. It rammed me into the sand, knocking the breath out of me. I scrambled back to my feet, coughing, wheezing. Damn, why was it so hard to move in sand? My vision swung wildly away from me, but only for a moment. I lifted up my fists…and I blew two discs out of the air simultaneously.
“Come on!” I screamed over the wind, as I fired. “Is that all you got?”
This time, ABBY didn’t even bother to warn me.
There was a loud, rushing sound, as the sand melted into water. I sank into the icy depths, with so little oxygen stored in my lungs that they immediately began to burn. I tried to swim to the surface, but there was no surface. There was only blue.
Then, I saw them: the discs. They were coming towards me—from above, and below, and my sides, and my back, and they were coming, and they were coming, and they were everywhere.
And so, I danced. I twirled, I spun, I arched in the water, I fired at them with the significantly slower, but equally effective thrusts of my arms. Mana streaked out of my fists, and it decimated clay. The explosions filled the water with bubbles. I could hardly see anymore. My lungs were on fire. My sight was blurring.
Finally, just as swiftly as the water had appeared, it disappeared. In a fraction of a moment, I was dripping, coughing and spitting onto dry concrete. I gulped for air, wiped my eyes, and looked up.
I was in a concrete bunker; the same bunker from my first day with the Beta Division.
I ran a hand through my matted hair, and staggered to my feet. I teetered slightly, stabilized, and stood my ground.
I gritted my teeth, lifted my fists.
About a stretch away, a panel in the floor slid open. A disc launcher rose out of the opening, large, cold, and sleek. I heard three more panels open—to my left, right, and behind me. Another two panels opened up on the ceiling; more launchers. A targeting laser beamed at me from each of the machines.
>
These guys are trying to kill me, I thought.
The launchers fired.
I readied to defend myself. But then…
Evon.
She was floating down from above, in a white dress. Blood dripped down her green brow, staining her clothes brilliant crimson.
I blinked, just in time to see a disc flying at me. I moved to save myself; too late. The disc smashed into my face, throwing me back. Another disc smashed into shoulder, and then into my back. I roared, and scrambled onto my feet.
I fired back. Twisting and turning, I tried to match the random delivery of the launchers. Soon, the discs were coming faster. Or, I was throwing slower. Anyhow, it was getting harder. Till, the bolts were barely leaving my knuckles. I was meeting the projectiles with mana-laden hands. I could feel the clay give way against my skin. At one point, I whirled around to smash a disc with a mana-charged, roundhouse kick. Didn’t even know I could do that.
I tried to throw another punch, but Evon was suddenly before me. She leapt into my arms, holding me tight. I felt another pair of arms behind me, and felt a second Evon’s lips on my neck. Then another pair of arms—this time around my waist, pulling me down.
I opened my mouth to scream. A fourth Evon appeared, and pressed her mouth against my own, stifling my cries.
Then: the Evons were gone.
I tried to regain my bearings. One of the discs sliced into my waist Another broke into the nook of my lower back. I fell to my knees, and then tried to get back up. One smashed against the side of my head; my world reeled. I fired blindly from my place on the floor.
I didn’t realize it, when the launchers crept back into their holes in the ground. I didn’t realize it when ABBY announced that the test was over, and that I had racked up a score of 63%.
I only realized I was done, when Kay was on his knees beside me, taking my hands, coaxing me to stop throwing.
“It’s over, Arra. It’s over,” he hushed, gathering my trembling body into his arms. “You passed.”
CHAPTER 44
I was sitting in the conference room, covered in blankets, whilst Kay treated some of my wounds. My body was out of the simulator, but my mind was still there. I could see the discs coming at me, could feel the water in my eyes and my lungs, burning through my tissue. Most frighteningly, I could see Evon, bleeding, dying.
Why was she doing this to me? Did she not know that I couldn’t save her. I would never be able to save her.
“Arra,” Kay said, a little too loudly. Seemed he had been trying to get my attention for a while.
“Yeah?” I said.
“You going to be okay?”
“What? Yeah-yeah-yeah, don’t worry.” I brushed off his concern.
“You sort of lost it in there at a point,” Kay said. “Scared the bleak out of me.”
I offered my most winning smile. “What I lost was my concentration. I’m fine, Kay.”
Kay didn’t look convinced. “Po will treat some of these. Quicken the healing process, y’know?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Po came in. “Everglade, the Director wants to see you.”
“I’ve got to go,” I said to Kay, standing up. My knees were wobbly, but I clenched my leg muscles and steadied myself. “Thanks again.”
Kay nodded, and I left for the Director’s office. I knocked on her door.
“Enter,” her voice came, almost immediately.
I opened the door, and stepped into the office.
The Director had returned the previous night. She was seated at her table across the room, hands clasped, eyes already trained on me. “Have a seat.”
I went over, and took a chair. The Director looked so small behind her enormous table. Yet, I felt like the child here, nervously meeting with her principal.
“How was K’har?” I asked.
“I accomplished the reason for which I went there,” the Director said. “Haseph is free, but seeing as his cover in K’har was compromised, the powers that be have transferred him to Hiti. He will continue working for our agency there. I could not have asked for a better outcome.”
“That’s good,” I said.
“I heard you passed your Level 1 Mana Control test,” the Director said.
“I scored a 63,” I told the Director, trying not to sound sour about it.
I must not have done a very good job because the Director said, “In the past, our recruits have often had to take the test more than once. Po, for instance, had to take it thrice to pass, if that makes you feel any better.” And there was a mild twinkle in her eye.
I smiled. “It does.”
“Good.” She glanced at a file on her tablet. “You have a lot more to learn. Po will be taking over the rest of your training.”
I groaned. “I was fine with Kay.”
“Kay’s expertise is mana control and offense. But Po is better at speed, agility, and hand-to-hand. Thus, she will be taking you for flash manoeuvring, and weapons combat. Do you know what a flash manoeuvre is, Miss Everglade?”
“Is it that thing King does when he moves in the blink of an eye?”
“You’re referring to a flash flit.”
“It’s really annoying. I can’t wait to learn it.”
“It’s one of several flash manoeuvres she’ll be teaching you. You’ll also be receiving your instrument for weapons combat training.”
“I’m sorry; my instrument?”
The Director frowned. “Has Po not taught you about instruments yet?”
I shook my head.
“Instruments are weapons uniquely forged and spelled to conduct, amplify, and manifest the truest nature of a beta’s bio-mana,” she rattled, like she was reading from a textbook.
“Weapons, huh?” My brain made a few connections. “Oh, you mean like that fire sword King uses?”
“You’ve seen him use Aiden?”
“Once.”
She nodded, dismissively. “When she was here, the real Fey Watters used a pair of instruments collectively called Tundra. Of course, you cannot use Tundra.”
“Because it is not spelled to respond to my bio-mana,” I said.
“That, and it has a self-defence mechanism to freeze unauthorized users to the bone.”
I winced. “Ouch.”
“However, you must have the appearance of using Tundra. As we speak, our bladesmith is finishing up exact replicas of the Tundra. He is calling it the Tundra II.”
“That’s original,” I said.
“Unfortunately, we do not yet know the form your mana takes in manifestation. The likelihood that you are also ice-based is highly unlikely. Therefore, the Tundra II has been spelled specifically to deliver ice-based attacks of its own generation. Each of the blades shall have a trigger that activates its ice generation capability. Of course, Tundra II has mana-ID, so no one else but you can use it. But, it will not be fuelled by your own bio-mana.”
I shrugged “I can live with that.”
“The Tundra II will be ready by Mundae.”
“Fine. Till then, I can just start my flash manoeuvre training.”
“No.”
I blinked. “No?”
“No,” she repeated, sternly. “You look worn out. If you keep up like this, you could cause irreparable damage to both your body, and your mind. As of now, you are officially on leave. Take the weekend. Rest. Spend time with your family.”
Her order took me by surprise.
“Okay,” I said, uncertainly.
I stood up, and prepared to leave. “May I ask one more thing though? How long has Tundra II been in development?”
“Six months,” The Director said, unblinking.
I froze. “You just said that it has mana-ID, meaning that it responds to my own bio-mana. But you didn’t know me six months ago. And, even if somehow you did, you couldn’t have possibly known whether or not I would agree to take this job.”
The Director looked disappointed in me. “Can you not tell already, Miss Everglade,�
� she said, softly, “that I have been doing this job for a very long time?”
CHAPTER 45
That night, I was having dinner with Kattie, when she started to look at me funny.
“Is that a scar on your cheek?” she asked.
I touched my face. In the past few days, Po had exerted less and less effort on my regeneration healing. But knowing how irritable she was, I wasn’t pushing it; I was just happy she still stopped the bleeding.
“What happened?” Kattie asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. “I walked into a door.”
Kattie stared at me. “You walked into a door?”
“I walked into a door. Awkwardly,” I clarified.
“Mm-hm.”
After Kattie was done eating, she cleared her plate, and went to the living room to read. I stopped mid-chew, and stared at the book she was reading.
“Is that Illuminist scripture?” I asked.
“Yes, it is,” she answered, without looking at me.
“Since when are you into Illuminism?”
“Since I decided to become an Illuminist,” she responded.
Now, I was floored.
“I had no idea,” I finally stuttered.
“Well,” Kattie said. “You’re hardly ever around anymore.” She didn’t look at me when she said it.
I wondered if my sister was mad at me. I had been repeatedly absent since my work with the Beta agency had gotten serious. But Kattie didn’t miss, as far as I knew. Therefore, she didn’t—couldn’t—miss me. Or was my sister changing, and had I underestimated her capacity for feeling?
Suddenly, I felt horrible.
“Hey, do you want to do something tomorrow?” I asked her.
“No,” she said, her eyes in her book.
“Oh come on.” I got up from the dining table and went over to sit by her. “We could shop for weird vegetables and cook something fancy.”
Kattie looked up from her text; triumphant music played in my head.
“Don’t you have any recipes you’ve been dying to try out?”
“Dying is a bit of a hyperbole,” she said. “But I have been hoping to attempt red bean stew for a while.”
“What would we need for that?”
The BETA Agency Page 23