Nyxia

by Scott Reintgen

  “I meant why me? I saw you work. I know you’d be a good person to team up with, Kaya, but why would you want to team up with me? I’m in ninth place.”

  She nods again. “Not for long. I heard you up late last night. Practicing, right? I can tell you’re a competitor. Babel’s going to change the game. There will be other tasks. I’ll help you with your weaknesses; you help me with mine. That’s the way an alliance works.”

  “How do I know you won’t team up with someone else?”

  “You’re the logical choice,” she answers. “Think about it. We live together. Outside those doors it’s going to be endless competition. We’ll be fighting for each point. Don’t you want just one place on the ship that isn’t like that? If we team up, it’ll feel like we’re coming back every day to a safe place. I want to feel like I’m coming home.”

  I can’t help nodding. It all makes so much sense. “Me too.”

  She lifts up a pinky and holds it out. “I swear that, as long as we’re not competing directly against each other, I’ll help you in the competition. We’re in this together.”

  I wrap my pinky around hers and repeat the words. She surprises me by letting out a huge sigh of relief. I didn’t realize how worried she was that I might reject the offer.

  “Let’s get started,” she says. “I have a strategy for the Rabbit Room.”

  I smile. “Want to explain on our way down to breakfast? I’m starving.”

  Kaya nods, and we walk through the retracting door. Our hallway is empty; the stairwells too. It looks like everyone is already at breakfast.

  “Do you know the story about the tortoise and the hare?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, thinking back to elementary school. “The turtle wins ’cause the hare’s cocky. He takes a nap during the race or something.”

  “It’s a stupid story,” Kaya says seriously. “Very stupid. If I was the rabbit, I would have lapped the turtle over and over. Smart and fast is better than slow and steady. But I think I noticed a way for the turtle to win yesterday.”

  “In the Rabbit Room?”

  Kaya nods as we start down the stairs. “The obstacles disappear as they reach the back wall. I noticed it yesterday when I tried to help Azima. About two or three feet from the back wall, they just vanish. We should drop back to the very edge of the treadmill next time. We can protect ourselves there, like a turtle.”

  I shrug. “Sounds good to me.”

  —

  I’m liking our alliance already. We join the others at breakfast. Most of their plates are empty and most of them look tired, like they were dreaming of black holes too. I snag a hearty-looking croissant and some fruit. Not exactly Detroit fare, but everything tastes delicious here. Bilal gestures to the seat next to him and I sit down. He offers a polite good morning, but he looks exhausted. The only cheerful one is Katsu.

  “Emmett,” he calls. “Watch this. It’s amazing.”

  I lean forward. A pair of dark wings stretches. It’s little, but Katsu has transformed his nyxia into some kind of shadow bird. I watch it peck at his plate and smile.

  “Pretty cool,” I say.

  “Not even the best part,” Katsu replies. “Bring the king his sausage!”

  We all watch as the shadow bird flaps over to the buffet. After rooting around, it clutches a sausage link in its talons and flutters back. Katsu laughs so loud the table shakes.

  “I am the king!” he shouts, taking a bite out of the sausage. “The king of the world!”

  A few of us laugh. Farther down the table, Longwei scowls at the noise, like laughter should be a punishable offense. Jaime’s sitting closer to the rest of us today. He still leaves a few seats between us and him, but it’s a start.

  “Kings only bring trouble,” says Azima. I can’t help staring at the silver charms on her wrist. It’s easier than meeting her eye. She has a way of looking at people with enough intensity to pin them to a wall. “Queens are more proper rulers. Everyone knows this.”

  Katsu laughs. With surprising quickness, he snatches the bird on his shoulder and manipulates it into a crown. God, he’s fast. I’m not the only one who brushed up on his skills last night. He tilts the black metal onto his wide head and folds his arms regally.

  “But every queen needs a king,” he says.

  “King?” Roathy’s voice cuts the laughter in two. He examines Katsu with those knowing eyes and shakes his head disdainfully. “I don’t see any kings or queens here.”

  “Thanks, Camp Stupid,” Katsu snaps back. “We were just joking.”

  Roathy doesn’t flinch at the insult. He just keeps staring at Katsu, and I know he’s seeing past the jokes, through the cheerful play. He’s looking at a layer that’s deeper and darker.

  “Look around you, big man. What’s the one thing that connects all of us?”

  Katsu doesn’t answer. Everyone glances around, like the solution’s supposed to be written on the walls somewhere. They might not have figured it out, but I know exactly what it is: we’re all dead-dancin’ broke. That’s the connection. Babel has unlimited resources. It’s not hard to imagine them screening each of us: weighing, measuring, selecting. They needed a way to manipulate us. Poverty just makes their golden ticket look even brighter.

  “We’re poor,” Roathy says without a trace of shame. “They picked us because we’re poor. We can be kings and queens, sure, but only if we bow first.”

  No one denies it. A few people look down at their plates. A few jaws clench. Jaime keeps chewing on a piece of bacon, unconcerned. The casual display lights me up.

  “Except for you,” I say before I can stop myself.

  Jaime looks over. “What?”

  “Roathy’s right,” I say. “We’re all poor except for you.”

  Jaime shrugs like I’ve got him all wrong. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then tell us, Mr. Switzerland—what do your parents do?”

  It shouldn’t matter, but it does. This competition is everything. If we’re going neck and neck with each other at the end of this and some posh son of some posh executive snatches my lottery ticket, I’m going to be pissed. Jaime’s smooth under the fire of my question, but I notice how corpse-still his hands are as he explains, like he can’t tell the lie and act normal at the same time.

  “They were farmers, but we lost our farm last year. So screw you, Emmett.”

  “What’d they farm?” I ask.

  Jaime shakes his head, a motion that buys him an extra second to remember whatever lie he’s supposed to tell. I recognize it because I’m one of the best at that stalling tactic.

  “Dairy. We made mountain cheese.”

  “I bet you did,” I snap back.

  We’re both standing now, and I’m breathing hard through my nostrils. I don’t know why it makes me so mad, but I know that he’s not one of us. He’s something else. He doesn’t want it like we do; he’s here for some other reason. The fact that he could be the one to take what’s mine drives through me like a knife. We’re staring death at each other as Defoe arrives. When he sees the two of us sizing each other up, he doesn’t smile his normal smile.

  “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

  My jaw tightens. I shake my head, eyes locked on Jaime. “No, sir. No problem at all.”

  I file the morning under A for Anger. Luckily, the quiet rage I feel because of Jaime’s lie helps me focus during the first tasks. We warm up with nyxia manipulations. The hours of practice I did the night before has me flying through each new image. Defoe has us make a spoon, a hilt, and a book with empty pages and a blue cover. I trail only Longwei, Katsu, and Azima through each task.

  “Lastly,” Defoe says, holding up a glass of water. “Transform your nyxia into water.”

  Thought, blink, transformation. It happens that fast and I’m holding a clear cup in my right hand, but the water’s not there. I perform the process again, but the water’s still missing. My eyes dart to Longwei. It’s a surprise to see hi
s name not going bold on the scoreboard. He’s transforming his nyxia again and again, but like me he can’t fill it up with what he needs.

  Defoe’s smiling, waiting.

  “You can’t turn it into water,” I say.

  Defoe’s smile widens as my name goes bold on the scoreboard. Somehow the answer heaps a thousand points onto my score. I watch my name slide up into fifth place.

  “Very good, Emmett. Nyxia cannot be manipulated into water, food, or truly organic creations,” Defoe explains. “So when you’re down on Eden, you’ll have to use your nyxian resources to gather food and water. You make a pot to boil water in, a spear to hunt with, but you can’t simply summon a buffet”—he holds the cup up and takes a dramatic sip—“or even a glass of water.”

  Rule one noted, we all follow Defoe over to the training area and go through the same process as the day before. A classroom session categorizes the types of mushroom that exist in Eden. Kaya deliberately takes the seat next to me. She catches my eye before manipulating her nyxia into a notebook and pen. She gestures for me to do the same.

  Nodding, I copy her manipulation. It takes a few attempts to get it right, but as the videocast rolls on, I start scribbling down everything. Defoe will probably make us put our notes away at the end, but writing everything down gives the words a better foothold in my brain. I’ve barely finished cataloging all the poisonous colors and shapes when the presentation ends and Defoe passes out data pads to quiz us. He eyes my notes, gives an affirming nod, and moves on.

  The quiz is a piece. I still manage to miss a question, but I do a lot better than most of the room. Longwei and Jaime both ace it. I can’t help but think Jaime does well because he’s gone to better schools or grown up with a massive library in his house. A small, frightened part of me wonders if he’s telling the truth, if he really is the son of down-and-out farmers. I’ve had people jump to the wrong conclusions about me before, so I know how deep a mistaken identity can dig under a person’s skin.

  I whisper my thanks to Kaya as we head to the next task. Our alliance is already cashing out. On the scoreboard, I’ve moved into fourth place.

  Yesterday I dropped into ninth place and I felt like the world was ending. Sliding up the leaderboard feels great, but I have to remember there’s no such thing as safe. The points of each day add up. Today’s a good day, but tomorrow I could fail a task and slide four spots.

  It’s all one big grind.

  —

  One by one, the others slide into the massive tank that Babel has carved into the floor. The simulated winds thrash the water violently, and the challengers swim like they’re riding tsunamis to shore. As Katsu flails helplessly in the stormy waters, I manipulate my nyxian band into swimming goggles. I ball them up and hide them behind my back while Defoe calls Jazzy forward.

  When he calls my name, I pull the strap of my manipulated goggles around the back of my head. The plastic suctions around my eyes and I’m in my own bubbled world. I slip into the tank and start swimming. Already I can feel the difference. Yesterday I swam through the thrashing waves blindly. It wasn’t horrible, but a few times I drifted to the sides of the pool and slowed my progress trying to readjust. Seeing makes a world of difference. I pound through strokes and know I’m outpacing myself, outpacing the others.

  Ten minutes later, the waves die down and I climb doggedly out of the pool. Kaya’s the only one swimming after me. She manipulates her own goggles, and just like that we’re a team, my strengths added to hers. When the results are tallied up, my name ticks past Jaime and Katsu on the scoreboard. Second place.

  Instinctually, I glance over at Longwei. He’s still breathing hard from his own swim. He locks eyes with me and nods once. Challenge accepted, I think. The thought has me smiling as we head to the Rabbit Room. Longwei doesn’t know that I have an ace up my sleeve. Kaya huddles us together on the tread floor. Jaime refuses to look at me, but he does listen as Kaya gives the group the same explanation she gave me that morning.

  “So if we stay on the very back of the treadmill,” she says, “none of the obstacles will even reach us. You just have to be careful with your footing, all right?”

  “I don’t like it,” Jaime says. “One slipup and there’s no recovery.”

  “But all we have to do is run,” Kaya replies calmly. “No dodging or jumping. When the treadmill picks up speed, we can move forward to give ourselves more room. I thought we could hold at the back until we arrive at the ravines.”

  Jaime opens his mouth to complain, but Azima cuts him off. “I remember the tree disappearing. This is a good strategy, everyone knows this, but what if the other team sees what we’re doing and copies us?”

  Kaya nods. “We’ll only have the advantage today. We could start off at the middle of the treadmill and drop back when the first obstacle comes.”

  Azima nods. “Clever girl. Let’s win today. I came here to win.”

  Jaime flashes a look of annoyance, and it’s not hard to see why. Yesterday we followed him. Today we’re following Kaya. There are no points on the scoreboard for being a leader, but I’d bet Babel’s paying attention to everything. After a frustrated pause, Jaime nods his agreement and we all take our positions. The other team’s formed a tight line with Jazzy at the front. They stagger the formation slightly so that one fall won’t send them all stumbling back. Defoe holds up a hand for attention.

  “Same rules as yesterday. Lose a player and your speed increases. Good luck.”

  The tread floor kicks to life. Our invisible runner begins through a familiar forest, and the only noises are light breathing and steady footsteps. The pace continues for a few minutes before we see a series of fallen trees up ahead. At Kaya’s signal, we slow down. No one from the other team notices as we drop back to the last few feet of the treadmill and pick up our pace. Defoe sees it, though, and his eyes narrow curiously.

  The downed trees materialize before us: a complicated stagger of branches, which the other team zigzags through. Longwei’s shouting out commands, and they look like well-trained ducklings. Our team holds its position at the back end of the treadmill. Panic rises in my chest as the trees get closer and closer and then vanish. Kaya flashes a satisfied smile and we all hold our pace. Jaime was right: there isn’t much room for mistakes. About a half meter behind us and a half meter ahead. But Kaya’s plan is definitely working.

  In the distance, two wolflike creatures leap to life. The other team swings to the right and I see a flash of black shadows. Their nyxian rings form up like little shields. Both wolves graze along the side of their compact formation but are fended off easily enough. I watch as our wolves snarl their way into nothing. Kaya actually lets out a laugh this time. Across the netting, Jazzy drops back to put a hand on Katsu’s back. He’s a lot bigger than the rest of them, and the pace is already too fast for him.

  We keep running. A massive landslide trembles to life, and Katsu can’t avoid it. Jazzy ducks around him, but his flailing hand snags her suit, and they both rush to the back wall. The room pulses twice, and now the remaining three are moving faster, and faster, and faster.

  Ahead, the forest road is dipping, and I spy the series of canyons we ran through the day before. I can’t believe how much more energy I have this time around. We haven’t lost anyone at all, and our pace is still at a comfortable jog. Bilal, Roathy, and Longwei are sprinting.

  “Kaya,” I call out. “Time to move forward?”

  She’s spotted the canyon. “Take the lead, Emmett. Stay out of the red, everyone.”

  My strides lengthen. The canyons are twisting and full of little crevices. I swing off to the left, and my group follows behind me like a snake. The other team is stumbling their way through leaps already, and I do my best to stay focused on our progress instead of theirs. We’re leaping our first big canyon when the lights flash to our right and the treadmill comes to a stop. All five of our teammates are still standing. Even Jaime is all smiles, like this morning is ancient history.

&n
bsp; “Congratulations,” Defoe says. “Expect adjustments to the course tomorrow.”

  Translation: The glitch will get fixed, but we like that you took advantage of it. I file this under W for Winning and walk over to give Kaya a one-armed hug. The rest of the group crowds around, and her smile’s so wide that even the nyxian mask can’t hide it. I’m not sure why, but this feeling is so much better than winning the individual competitions. I like giving Kaya the props she deserves, and I like winning, together. I ask her to go ahead and give us a new strategy and she launches in excitedly. It’s only as we head back to our rooms at the end of the day that I realize the real significance of our win: it has me in first place.

  I remind myself there’s still a long way to go, but as I fall asleep that night, there’s a smile on my face. For the first time, I feel like I belong here, like I actually deserve to go to Eden. I know that when I wake up in the morning, I won’t just be content with the top eight.

  I want to win.

  DAY 7, 8:38 A.M.

  Aboard Genesis 11

  Babel’s competition isn’t a sprint.

  It’s a marathon in which we’re occasionally asked to walk on water. Already I can tell that seventh days will be the hardest. Deep into a week of work, but not close enough to taste the Sabbath to come. It will be the day that frays at our forced friendships and formed alliances. People will get hurt on seventh days, lose their minds on seventh days. So far the only breaks we’ve gotten are for the behavioral simulations. Sometimes they’re more exhausting than the Rabbit Room. But every day that passes is a reminder, a testament.

  I’m good enough. To finish in the top eight, to win. Kaya preaches perspective during our daily rendezvous, but I know I’m a legitimate threat because of Longwei. He spends half his time glaring at me. We’ve started trading the lead back and forth. I don’t back down when he looks at me. I won’t back down, not from him or from anyone else.

  On the seventh day, Babel creates warriors.

  Defoe leads us down an unfamiliar corridor and to a room that’s a massive, padded pit. It looks like one of those indoor trampoline places. The room has three or four different levels, cushioned walls, and a rack of black-tipped weapons on either side of the doorway. Different-sized swords and cruel-looking maces. I even see a set of throwing stars.