The Training Master

by Mark Crilley

  I closed my eyes as the nognag leaped and soared through the air toward the huge sheet of glass before us.

  CRRRRAAAAAAAAAASSSSHHHH!

  A tornado of glass shards whirled around us as we blasted through the dome and careened into the room beyond. Startled cries erupted on all sides as I felt myself slide across the floor into something cold, wet, and sticky. When I raised my head I found myself still attached to the reins of the nognag (which had belatedly come to a complete stop) and covered head to toe with meat, vegetables, and a substance that looked and smelled like lemon meringue pie.

  I had ridden the nognag straight into the Zarga Baffa cafeteria.

  Chapter 11

  “No broken b-bones. No torn ligaments. Just bruises and mild abrasions. You’re a lucky g-girl.”

  A multiarmed alien doctor was examining me in the Zarga Baffa medical clinic. She had little purple eyes on all sides of her furry head, two incredibly long antennae, and an extremely bad case of dandruff.

  “Very lucky,” said Chibb. He was in the clinic with me. Spuckler and the others were waiting outside. My spectacular mishap with the nognag had softened his attitude toward me a bit, and he had almost turned back into the kind, caring Chibb he’d been when I first met him.

  “A few more b-bandages and she’ll be free to go,” said the doctor. “I’ll be right b-back.”

  “Thanks for patching her up, Zaydia,” he said as the doctor slithered from the room. “Just send her to one of the recuperation rooms when you’re done. We’ll give her the rest of the day off and have her make up the remainder of today’s lessons some other time. Speaking of which,” he said to me after the doctor was gone, “I’d better get back to the others. Don’t worry, Akiko, you’ll be in good hands here.”

  “Chibb,” I said.

  “Yes?”

  “Why did you put me on that nognag?”

  Chibb looked startled by my question. He stared at me for a long time before answering.

  “That nognag was suffering from a nervous disorder, Akiko: bi-thalamacular nogatosis. I assure you I had no way of knowing that when I assigned her to you. We try to make sure all our nognags are fit and healthy, but every once in a while a bad one slips through.” He paused and added: “Please accept my apologies.” He said it more as a command than a request.

  I think I was supposed to say “That’s okay” or “Don’t worry about it,” but I couldn’t bring myself to say either of those things. What I did say was this: “So what grade are you going to give me?”

  “Why, a U, of course.”

  “A U?” I couldn’t believe it. “Unacceptable? You can’t do that!”

  “I can and must do it, Akiko.” His face was hard and drained of emotion. “Good nognag or bad, you should have remembered the words for controlling it. Forgetting them resulted in unprecedented damage to Zarga Baffa property, and put dozens of innocent trainees in harm’s way.”

  I was speechless with anger. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I couldn’t bear to let Chibb see me cry. So I choked them back and just sat there on the examination table, staring at my bandaged wrists.

  “Attitude is everything on Zarga Baffa, Akiko. And yours,” Chibb said before turning his back to me, “needs a little work.”

  k-chak

  He closed the door, leaving me alone.

  “If ever you find yourself troubled by any aspect of your training,” Odo Mumzibar had said when we first arrived, “please feel free to come directly to me.” Well, I was now officially troubled with my training, that’s for sure.

  After an hour or so in one of the recuperation rooms, I decided to pay Odo Mumzibar a quick visit and see if he agreed with me that Chibb’s grade was unfair. I asked one of the nurses how to get to Headmaster Mumzibar’s office. She drew me a map and said, “When you see the umbrellas, take the sturdiest one you can find.” She smiled and added: “Unless you like getting wet.”

  I followed her directions to a path leading off to the edge of the Zarga Baffa complex. The path twisted and turned through a shadowy green forest. The air was misty and damp and smelled of woodsmoke. I began to hear the sound of a waterfall in the distance. The farther I walked, the louder the sound grew, until I knew I was walking straight toward it. Finally I came to a clearing and, sure enough, found myself standing directly in front of a waterfall, which was pouring down from a steep cliff of tall, moss-covered rocks. The path on which I had been walking led to a small stone bridge that went right into the middle of the waterfall.

  I looked at the map the nurse had drawn for me. To get to Odo Mumzibar’s quarters, I would have to cross the bridge and go straight through the water.

  These Zarga Baffa guys, I thought. They love to make things difficult.

  To my right was a rough wooden barrel with a half dozen umbrellas in it. I grabbed the sturdiest one I could find—a rickety little thing that looked as if it was made of sticks and straw—took a deep breath, and had one last look at the barrier before me. It was only water, but man, it was thundering down onto that bridge like Niagara Falls. Raising the umbrella over my head and praying it wouldn’t get pounded to pieces, I dashed full speed into the water.

  It took a few seconds to get to the other side, and I ended up sopping wet. There was a gap of about five feet between the water and the cliff wall behind it. At the point where the bridge met the cliff was a small wooden door with a rusty iron ring attached in the middle. I took the iron ring in my hand and knocked it against the door three times.

  After half a minute or so the door opened, all by itself.

  “Come in,” said the voice of Odo Mumzibar. “Come in and dry yourself by the fire.”

  I stepped through the doorway and the door creaked shut behind me. I was in a small, round room with rough stone walls. It was little more than a cave, hacked out of the side of the cliff with simple tools and an awful lot of hard work. There was very little furniture, just a writing table and a pair of sturdy bookshelves.

  In the middle of the room was a shallow pit holding a crackling fire. A blackened hole in the ceiling carried most of the smoke away, but the room still smelled like a campground. On the other side of the fire, seated upon a big, flat stone, was Odo Mumzibar.

  “Sit, dear girl,” he said. “Sit down at my side.” I nodded and—since there was no chair—planted myself directly on the floor. The warmth of the fire was wonderful, but I was too nervous to enjoy it very much. I felt as if I were seated next to a mighty sorcerer or a high priest.

  Odo Mumzibar peered into my eyes, sizing me up. For a minute I wondered if he was trying to read my mind.

  We both sat there in silence for a moment. Then Odo Mumzibar took hold of a wooden box in front of him, opened it, and produced a small ceramic sphere. It was half black, half red, and covered with tiny alien carvings. It looked like an artifact from a museum, possibly an object used in some strange ancient ritual. He handed it to me.

  “Before you speak,” he said, “you must do as I say.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  It’s some kind of a test. If I pass, he’ll allow me to talk. And if I fail?

  I swallowed again.

  Better not fail.

  “Take the black half in your right hand and the red half in your left hand.”

  I did as I was told.

  “Hold the black half steady. Turn the red half away.”

  Again, I did as I was told. Or tried to, anyway. The two halves of the sphere seemed permanently joined, as if they had been designed not to turn at all.

  “Be strong, be true,” whispered Odo Mumzibar, his eyes burning into mine. “Hold fast, and focus with the whole of your mind, the whole of your spirit.”

  I pressed my fingers against the sphere as hard as I could and tried with all my might to turn the two halves in opposite directions. They wouldn’t budge.

  “Close your eyes,” whispered Odo Mumzibar. “Put everything you have into the task at hand.”

  I shut my eyes and tensed
every muscle in my body.

  “Feel it giving way. See it giving way in your mind, and it shall be so!”

  I clenched my teeth and gave it my all. I growled and shook like a wild animal.

  “Yes! That’s it! Draw upon the power within!”

  “Nnnnnnngh-aaaaaaaarrrrggh!”

  With a triumphant shout—a hoarse bellow of a cry that I didn’t realize I was capable of making—I twisted the two halves away from one another and felt them turn in my hands, gliding freely at last, as if they’d never been stuck together in the first place.

  “Good, good,” said Odo Mumzibar, his eyes crinkling with approval. “I knew you could do it.” He unfolded his wrinkled fingers and stretched them out before my face. “Now put it into my hands.”

  Panting, exhausted, but deeply relieved, I gave the sphere back to Odo Mumzibar. He took it in his hands and continued turning the two halves, rotating them again and again and again. Finally they separated altogether, and I saw that one side was filled with a dollop of pinkish gray goo. Poking a finger into it, Odo Mumzibar took a taste of it.

  “Mmmm,” he said, “Libbling jelly. A gift from my aunt P’foomia.” He reached into the wooden box and pulled out a plateful of crackers and a small butter knife. “Lovely stuff, though one does wish they wouldn’t make the jars so devilishly hard to open.”

  He dipped the knife into the goo, put a generous smear on one of the crackers, and handed it to me. “Now then, my dear child, what brings you here to visit me?” Within seconds he had covered a second cracker with jelly and popped it into his mouth. Chewing noisily, looking surprisingly like a horse with a mouthful of hay, he blinked and waited for a reply. “Hm?”

  “Um.” I cleared my throat and tried to collect my thoughts. “It’s, uh, it’s about my training master.”

  “Ah, Chibb,” said Odo Mumzibar, already preparing another cracker. “Splendid fellow. One of the best we’ve got. What about him?”

  “He gave me a U today.”

  Odo Mumzibar nodded. “Mm. Unacceptable. Yes, it’s terrible to get one of those, isn’t it? Got two of them back when I was a trainee.” He stared me in the eye. “Are you questioning Master Fallaby’s judgment, then?”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “Not really.” I coughed. “Well, yes, actually.” I leaned forward and searched Odo Mumzibar’s face for signs of sympathy. “Um … maybe?”

  Odo Mumzibar took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Tell me what happened.”

  I took a deep breath and told Odo about the nognag lesson, and all the crazy stuff that had happened, and how it wasn’t my fault that I’d wound up going straight into the Zarga Baffa cafeteria. When I was done I stopped talking and waited for his reaction, hoping he’d agree that under the circumstances I deserved better than a U.

  “A highly unusual situation,” Odo Mumzibar said at last. “It’s been years since we’ve had a bad nognag slip through like that. Please accept my apologies.” I shuddered, realizing that Chibb had said the exact same thing, though in a much less kindly way. “Still, you did forget the command, didn’t you?”

  I nodded and said, “Yes,” so quietly even I could barely hear me.

  “I understand how you feel, dear girl. I will keep a close eye on your progress here from now on. But for the moment I must let Master Fallaby’s judgment stand.” He popped the last of a cracker in his mouth and swallowed it. “Let the U do what it does best: stir up your fighting spirit, steel your resolve to do better. I’ve seen enough today to know that when you put your mind to it”—he pointed at the two halves of the ceramic sphere and gave me a knowing look—“you are capable of great things.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. Though Odo Mumzibar hadn’t taken my side, he had somehow made me feel better.

  “Now, eat that cracker, my child,” he added with a mischievous grin, “or I’ll eat it for you.”

  Chapter 12

  I left Odo Mumzibar’s quarters and returned to the recuperation room. At the end of the day I joined Spuckler and the others for the long walk back to the holes. I told them about my visit to Odo Mumzibar and the bad grade that had prompted it.

  “A U?” said Spuckler. “That ain’t right. That ain’t even close to right.”

  “It does seem a bit extreme,” said Mr. Beeba. “But again, you must think of these things within the context of the Zarga Baffa method. Odo Mumzibar is quite right. The poor grades are calculated to make you work harder.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But what if I get two more U’s? Then our whole team will be sent home, and King Froptoppit will know that I was the one who messed everything up.”

  “YOU WON’T GET ANY MORE U’S, MA’AM,” said Gax with a rattle of his helmet. “I’M SURE OF IT. YOU’LL IMPROVE, AND CHIBB WILL GIVE YOU BETTER AND BETTER GRADES. YOU’LL BE ONE OF THE GREATEST GRADUATES ZARGA BAFFA HAS EVER SEEN.”

  Poog nodded and added a few gurgly, gargled words.

  “Poog agrees,” said Mr. Beeba. “He sees great rewards awaiting you at the end of all this.”

  I gave Poog the best smile I could manage. “Thanks, Poog. I hope you’re right. I really do.”

  I had thought that my injuries would exempt me from climbing the giant muddy hill, but I should have known better. Humbling Week was all about pain, and if you felt more of it than everyone else, so much the better.

  Spuckler and Mr. Beeba went first, while Gax and Poog stayed with me as I slowly slogged up the slope, trying my best not to incur any further scrapes from the jagged stones. I was about halfway up the hill when I heard a voice behind me.

  “Hey, look, it’s the maniac nognag rider!”

  I didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Dregger: I recognized his nasal voice.

  “Didja see what she did to the cafeteria? I can’t believe she didn’t get expelled for that. They prob’ly cut her some slack ’cause she’s a puny little Earthian.”

  I gotta just ignore him. Pretend he’s not even there.

  “Hey, Noggy!” He was closer now, just a few yards away. “How was the food? I hear you went from the appetizer to the dessert in under a second!” His laughter echoed across the hill and was joined by several alien chuckles: the other members of his crew.

  Poog, Gax, and I finally reached the top of the hill, but old long-arms was right behind us.

  “So is it true Fallaby socked ya with a U for that?” He stuck his face in front of me and stared gleefully with all three of his eyes. “Two more of those and it’s buh-bye to you and all your buddies here!”

  I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “What planet are you from?” I stuck my face so close to his we could smell each other’s breath. (I got the worse part of the bargain, no question.)

  Dregger was a little startled by my question, as though a response from me was against the rules of his little game.

  “Plaptoll,” he said. “What about it?”

  “Earthians eat Plaptollian arms for breakfast, you know,” I said to him. “We turn them into sausage. Fry them in oil.”

  He looked truly horrified for a moment, then laughed nervously. “She’s a joker, guys,” he said, turning back to the other members of his group. “We got ourselves a joker here!” He stopped following me, though, and that was the last I heard out of him for the evening.

  By the time I’d waded through the swamp and crawled into my hole, I thought I’d be asleep within seconds. There was one thing keeping me awake, though: hunger, hunger like I’d never felt in my life. Skipping dinner the previous night had been a mistake. Skipping lunch … well, that had been an act of sheer insanity. When Grunn Grung arrived with my evening bucket of slop, I grabbed it from him and started wolfing it down without even pausing to look at it.

  “Seeeeee?” said Grunn Grung. “You eeeaaat. You eeeaaaat.”

  I don’t even want to say what it tasted like: moldy cheese, stewed pig livers … nothing’s quite disgusting enough to make a good comparison. But who cares? It was food. I ate every last morsel of
it and licked the sides of the bucket clean. I’d have licked the bottom but my tongue wasn’t long enough.

  “Gooooooood,” said Grunn Grung when he returned to collect the bucket. “Noooow … you sleeeeeeep.”

  I fell back and rested my head on the cold, wet stones.

  My first day, I thought. This was just my first day. I’ve got six more to go.

  I closed my eyes.

  I’m never going to make it.

  Chapter 13

  “Wake up.”

  Someone was tapping me on the shoulder. I opened my eyes. It was still pitch black out, well before dawn. Alien crickets and toads chirped and croaked, but otherwise it was dead quiet.

  “Come on, Earthian,” the voice whispered, accompanied by several more taps on my shoulder. “Wake up already.”

  I turned over and found the little red-suited alien, helmet off, arms around her knees, sitting just inside the entrance to my hole. Who knew how long she’d been there?

  “What are you—”

  “Shhhhhh.” She put a tiny finger to her little pink lips. There was just enough moonlight to make out the details of her face: pointy nose, oversized ears, little green stripes on her chin and forehead. “Keep it down. People are sleeping.”

  Yeah, I thought, like me until a few seconds ago.

  “Okay,” I whispered, rubbing my eyes. “What are you doing here? And while we’re at it, who are you?”

  “I’m Raspa-Nanga Leely Kayooli.” She lowered her eyes and bowed politely. “You can call me Raspa.”

  “Raspa,” I said, relieved that I wouldn’t have to memorize all those other names. “I’m Aki—”

  “Akiko. I know, I know. You’re already famous here. You don’t ride a nognag into the middle of the Zarga Baffa cafeteria without your name getting around.”

  “All right, so you know my name. I’m assuming you didn’t sneak up here in the middle of the night just to prove that to me.”