Nyxia

by Scott Reintgen

  Something twists in my gut. After seeing the Adamites shred through a fully weaponized marine unit, I should have known we’d be trained in some kind of combat. I should have known that the only possible practice would be against each other. Kaya and I exchange a meaningful glance. I’m not sure who will be teaching who in this competition. She’s small, but a person doesn’t have to be big if the knife’s sharp enough.

  Defoe’s data pad lights up. We all watch the distant screen blink to life. A Combat Kings version of Bilal and Azima appears on it. The digital faces of their avatars gaze out at us. I have to squint, but I can make out a health bar above their heads and vitals listed.

  “The weapons will feel real. We’ve designed them with their genuine weight and balance. However, they’re coated with a nyxian oil of our own invention. They cannot actually cut or touch other physical objects.” Defoe hefts a handheld ax. He approaches the nearest outcropping of square blocks and swings. The air shimmers, and the blade blinks right through the padding.

  Jazzy says what we’re all thinking. “That’s amazing.”

  Defoe sets the ax back. “The damage you do to your opponent will be reflected in the video display. There are winners and losers to this game. Sever a limb and your opponent will lose the use of it. Knick an artery and they’ll bleed out. Strike a killing blow, and you win. Understood?”

  We’re all nodding. They’re really going to have us fight each other. I glance over at Jaime. It wouldn’t surprise me if we get matched against each other. That’s how it always happens in movies. You get put against the one person you wanted to fight earlier. And they crush you.

  Azima and Bilal step forward.

  “Choose your weapons wisely,” Defoe instructs.

  Azima goes straight for a body-length spear. She gives it a few testing thrusts before climbing down into the center of the arena. But Bilal looks lost. I doubt the kind-natured kid has ever fought anyone. He walks up and down the rows of weapons, eyeing them like snakes. Eventually he grabs a short sword. He holds it awkwardly as he descends into the pit. They turn to face each other. On the screen, their avatars do the same. Even though the two of them are standing still in real life, the avatars crouch into fighting stances.

  “You may begin,” Defoe calls.

  Our fights lack movie drama. Real fights don’t last for minutes. Real fights are ended in seconds. Bilal holds up his sword and stumbles away as Azima’s spear lashes forward. He’s still in the middle of his backpedal when a second strike catches his thigh. On the screen, blood spurts from his wound, and I see his health bar light up. Bilal tries to bull-rush forward, but Azima ducks to the right and lunges upward. Her spear drives through his neck, and the Bilal on the digital screen collapses in a bloody mess.

  For the first time, I don’t like how realistic the images look.

  “Next,” Defoe calls.

  Bilal shakes Azima’s hand and compliments how fast she is. I notice Defoe frowning. He wants bone-deep competition, but Bilal’s too honorable for that. Katsu and Longwei appear on the screen next. Katsu goes straight for a massive, wicked-looking ax. Longwei picks a glinting sword with an engraved hilt. They face off in the center of the square, and Defoe releases them.

  I’m expecting Longwei to be as good at this as he is at everything else, and he starts out that way. They trade a few awkward blows, and Longwei slices a cut along the side of Katsu’s calf. His avatar winces, but when Longwei goes in for a second strike, Katsu’s backhand sends him flying. For the first time in the fight, Katsu’s size advantage is obvious. A massive swing from his ax jars the sword out of Longwei’s hands. Katsu’s barrel of a chest flexes as he brings it swinging around again. Longwei tries to dive to one side, but he’s too slow. The ax buries itself in his thigh, and his avatar withers overhead. The real Longwei is on the floor, scrambling for his sword, when Katsu finishes him.

  “I am the king!” he shouts again. Everyone but Longwei laughs.

  Kaya and Jaime go next. Instead of facing him hand to hand, Kaya uses one of the trampolines to get to the upper levels. It takes two seconds to see that she spent her time on the sidelines planning out a strategy for the fight. She maneuvers through the obstacles and leads Jaime into a beautiful trap. He chases and chases until she buries a throwing star right in his forehead. Looks like we’ll be learning from each other. Jaime starts to complain that it wasn’t a fair fight, but Defoe ignores him and summons the next combatants.

  Jazzy and Isadora. My eyes lock on Roathy. He’ll be my first opponent. He’s a lot smaller than me, but I expect him to fight and scrape. Everything about him says he’s a scrappy kind of kid. My guess is he’ll be reckless, undisciplined. The natural counter is to fight defensively and wait for an opening.

  My eyes turn back to the fight below. Jazzy takes a second to tie her blond hair up in a ponytail. Isadora kneels opposite her. I watch as she traces the tattoo on the back of her neck with a thumb before lifting a pair of daggers and setting her feet.

  After what we’ve seen in the Rabbit Room, I half expect Jazzy to have the upper hand, but her athleticism doesn’t translate into combat. She lunges twice before Isadora lands two violent jabs with her knife. Isadora’s been quiet so far, but there’s nothing quiet about the way she wields a blade. She backs away, eyes the screens, and sees that Jazzy’s on the verge of bleeding out. She’s smart enough to retreat to a safe distance as the win becomes official.

  The stage is set for Roathy and me. He grabs the same sword that Longwei did, but I take my time in choosing. The axes don’t feel right, and the other swords look too heavy. I can’t imagine fighting with a spear, and there are a few maces I’m not even sure how to work. My eyes settle on a pair of metal claws. I’ve never used brass knuckles, but my uncle definitely taught me how to box. I slide my hands into the metallic gloves and flex my fingers. The right hand has a moon-shaped shield. The left has dagger-sharp knuckles and a trio of silver claws extending out.

  It was made for a southpaw, for me.

  I take my place across from Roathy and wait. When Defoe gives the signal, Roathy does exactly what I thought he would. He comes flying forward, lashing the sword in wild, too-quick blows. I use my shield hand to ward off the first few, and then slash down under his third swing. I don’t have to look up to know I just spilled his guts on the floor. Roathy reacts to his avatar’s pain, pulling away from me and limping. He lunges one more time, and I bat the sword down with my right hand. His blade nicks my shoulder, but the forward step allows me to put all my weight behind the punch. The nyxia slides harmlessly through Roathy’s neck, but my fist crushes his trachea.

  The real Roathy and the avatar collapse together. I take a step back as the adrenaline pulses through me, the thrill of victory, the taste of pain, but it doesn’t last long. Roathy’s down. He’s gasping for air, and the sound of his wheezing breaths are dying things. Defoe’s there a second later with two medics at his side.

  Isadora, Roathy’s roommate, is shouting. Defoe has to grab her by the shoulders to stop her from following the medics out of the room. I should feel horrible, but I remember Roathy’s face at the start of the fight. If he could have, he would have done the same to me. Destroy or be destroyed. I look up at the other challengers, and their faces are downcast. Some of them are looking at me like I’m different now, like there’s a darker side to all of this that I’ve just unveiled. I slide the gloves off and climb out of the pit, trying not to think about black holes and broken things.

  At lunch, the scoreboard shows my dominance. I should be thrilled, but Roathy’s absence digs under my skin. I was just playing the game. I didn’t want to hurt him. I pick at my plate and repeat the phrase in my head: I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t…

  As we make our way to the Rabbit Room, Roathy’s still not with us. I keep glancing back, hoping to see a medic escorting him down the hall. But the blast doors close once we’re inside, and the competition is set to begin without him. Defoe
signals from the front of the room.

  “Longwei, your team is without a player. According to the rules, your treadmill will begin at a faster rate because of your loss. Good luck.”

  Their team shoots dark looks in my direction, like I knew the rule and purposefully put Roathy in the med unit to give our team an advantage. It’s completely unfair, but I don’t say anything because Defoe already taught us about Babel’s concept of fairness. Kaya gathers our team around, but the bad vibes are on our side of the room too. Isadora keeps her distance from me, and Jaime keeps glancing over nervously. Kaya ignores all of it.

  “Emmett, I want you to be our rabbit today.”

  I stare over at her. The idea of being ordered around right now annoys me.

  “Why me?”

  “You have the quickest reactions,” she replies. “We’ll run along the back. You stay up front. Call out every obstacle you see and give us time to react. Sound good?”

  It takes a second to realize what Kaya’s doing. She’s putting her faith in me, showing the others she trusts me. She wants them to forget what I did to Roathy and remember what I’ve accomplished so far in the Rabbit Room. I nod my thanks to her as Defoe steps up onto his platform and the rubber floor starts to roll.

  The other team is sticking with their bunched strategy, except that now Katsu is at the front of the line and Longwei already has one hand on his back for support. Kaya and the others fall back to one side, and I take my place at the front. Our path begins through the forest, and my eyes are darting around.

  A tree falls onto the path in front of us and I call it out. Swinging to the right, I hurdle the only section without branches. Right after that, a pair of creeks, and then a series of low-whipping branches. I call every obstacle out, and I’m feeling good about our pace when I hear a shout. My head snaps back as my arms keep pumping.

  The back walls have come to life. Another forest view trails us, with trees vanishing as we progress. A second glance reveals two wolves padding after us. Defoe promised the game would evolve, and it has. Obstacles ahead, dangers behind. Without warning, the speed of our treadmill picks up. We haven’t lost anyone, but it’s like our imaginary runner has spotted the wolves and is eager to get away. The pace winds us through more obstacles, and I hear Kaya command the group to move forward.

  They join me as the pace picks up to a sprint. I look back as one of the wolves breaks free of the screen. It’s massive, bigger than those from the days before, and unlike earlier versions, it doesn’t look like it will vanish anytime soon. We duck a few series of branches and Isadora stumbles. I miss her outstretched hand and watch as the wolf pounces. It pins her to the ground and she screams. The two of them slide straight to the back of the room. Our side pulses and the speed increases. Sweat streaks down my face.

  On the other side of the room, Katsu finally falls. I can hear him shouting as he zooms toward the back wall and his team is down to three. They don’t have any wolves, I realize. Their forest screen is alive and vivid along the back wall, but there’s nothing chasing them.

  Our second one has materialized on the back of the treadmill. It sprints along our left flank, whipping under branches and over stone rises in pursuit. Kaya slides our team as far to the right as possible, but we’re struggling to run and keep an eye on the wolf at the same time. Kaya wanted me to be the rabbit today, but I have a better idea.

  Focusing, I transform my rubber band into the dagger I saw Defoe use the first day. It’s heavy in my sweating hand. I tighten my grip and drift behind the others. Knowing it’s suicide, I steady my strides and veer over to the wolf. Before it can leap at one of us, I’m leaping at it. My dagger lands above its shoulder, and the collision knocks the wind from my lungs. The wolf and I spin end over end, but I keep hold of the dagger and wrap my other arm around its neck. It snaps wicked-looking teeth at my face, but vanishes when we hit the back wall.

  Our side lights up, but my sacrifice leaves the others free to sprint without distraction. Longwei’s team has been running faster for longer, and pretty soon Bilal loses his footing and goes flying backward. Longwei can’t quite make the leaps, and my team holds on long enough to eliminate Jazzy in the canyon section of the map. I lie back, staring at the ceiling, arms up in victory. These wins always feel the best. Kaya’s the first to compliment my move with the wolf. Even Jaime admits it looked awesome.

  Azima offers a hand to help me up, but Longwei shoulders past her and kicks me right in the face. My head snaps back and blood splatters the floor. My eyes tear up and I feel my face go from massive pain to completely numb in heartbeats. Before I can even think about getting up or fighting back, Jaime and Azima are there, pushing him away. Longwei holds his ground long enough to shout at me.

  “You cheated. You only won because you cheated.”

  Jaime gives him another shove. “Back off, Longwei. Back the hell off.”

  Longwei turns and starts walking away. Every single bone in my body wants to rise. I want to stand up and end him. He might be smarter and faster, but I’m bigger and stronger. I’ve seen him fight and I know his style. But the group, and Babel for that matter, have already seen me do the hurting. I need them to see me this way, as the victim. I hold a sleeve up to my nose and let Kaya inspect it. Defoe’s crossed the room already.

  “Need a medic?” he asks.

  I shrug my shoulders. “He just kicked me.”

  “I saw. I’ll speak with him. That kind of violence isn’t permitted. Do you need a medic?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s not broken, is it?”

  Defoe shakes his head. “Go get cleaned up.”

  Kaya helps me stand. She keeps her arm around me as we walk. Instead of the usual tired silence that comes at the end of each day, the others swarm around us, either worried about my nose or excited about having a little drama for once. Jazzy’s the first one to take sides.

  “No hard feelings from me,” she says. “I didn’t think you cheated at all, Emmett.”

  “Thanks, Jazzy.”

  Bilal nudges my shoulder. “Emmett, do you want me to make you some tea?”

  “Tea?” I ask. “Will it help my nose?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but it tastes very good.”

  I laugh. “Nah, I’m good, man. Thanks.”

  Azima leans into the conversation. “If he does not want the tea, I will drink it.”

  Bilal looks surprised. “You—you would like some of my tea?”

  Katsu laughs. “As long as you’re taking orders, Bilal, I’ll have a mimosa. Just make sure you put one of those little umbrellas in the glass. I love those things.”

  Everyone laughs. We walk the long hallway together, and I realize I’m at the center of the group. Only Longwei walks ahead of us, apart. I should thank him for what he’s done. Without him, I’d still look like the bad guy. In his frustration, he replaced me. Hitting someone when they’re ready for a fight is one thing. Sucker punches, though, are the lowest of the low.

  At the end of the hallway, he turns to look back at us. We’re close enough to see the anger in his eyes. He sweeps his front tuft of hair to one side and disappears up the stairs.

  I file the look under E for Enemy.

  DAY 10, 11:38 A.M.

  Aboard Genesis 11

  When Sabbath finally comes, I sleep like the dead.

  Waking up is just a reminder that my muscles are sore and my brain is tired. The competition and the adrenaline push the pain out of sight, out of mind. My first deep sleep brings all the bumps and bruises back to the surface. When I limp into our shared living room, I find Kaya sitting cross-legged on the couch. She closes her book, picks up her nyxian mask from the table, and laughs her way into it.

  She says, “You look like a grandpa.”

  “I feel like a grandpa.” I take the seat next to her. “Big plans for your day off?”

  She pats the book in her lap. “Alice and I are getting into trouble.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Alice?” />
  She holds up the cover. A girl with blond hair and a blue dress looks like she’s getting into all kinds of I’m-a-girl-with-blond-hair-in-a-blue-dress trouble. A handful of absurd characters are chasing her into it too.

  “I’d read along with you, but it looks like it’s in Japanese.”

  Kaya’s eyes light up. “Do you really want to read it?”

  I glance at the shelves. “Is there an English version?”

  “Sure,” Kaya says. “But who needs that when you have me? Get comfortable.”

  When I’ve got my feet kicked up, Kaya begins. She goes back to the beginning, even though I can see a dog-eared page marking her progress halfway through the book. As she reads, she pauses for suspense and changes her voice for different characters. Only person who ever read to me like this was Moms. Something about that thought makes all this feel like more than an alliance. It has the faintest taste of family to it.

  And I was right about Alice. Girl’s getting into all kinds of trouble.

  “Wait,” I say, interrupting. “She just started shrinking?”

  “Yes,” Kaya says, tracing the line with a finger. “Drinking from the bottle made her really small.”

  I frown. “Not very realistic.”

  “You didn’t complain about the rabbit with the pocket watch.”

  “Because he sounds kind of cool.”

  Kaya glares at me. “Do you want me to keep reading or not?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, yeah.”

  Before she can start again, our door hisses open. Defoe strides into the room, takes one look at us, and nods at me. “Come with me, Emmett.”

  He gives the command like a king would. I groan to my feet and wink back at Kaya.

  “Thanks for reading. Promise you won’t read on without me?”