“What?” he said again, confused by her previous urgency, and her current hesitancy as she fiddled with the ends of her jacket sleeve.
“Is everything okay?”
“Huh?”
“You got in that fight with Nelson.”
Cam clenched his jaw together, unsure of how to act. He knew better than to answer. Just leave, he told himself. It’s not like it’s going to matter soon.
But as he turned to go, her voice stopped him. “Please, Cam—I’m worried.”
“You’re worried?” Slowly, he turned back around to face her. “Why?”
“Nelson didn’t start that fight, did he?”
Cam didn’t want to answer her, but something about her question didn’t allow him any other choice. “No.”
“Then why did you fight him?”
“Because…” The words caught in his throat. Because I couldn’t win the Endgame. Collecting himself, he took a deep breath and finished: “Because you have to win some fights before they’re fought.”
Jaeia’s answer surprised him. “I can’t say I agree with what you did, but it is pretty brilliant.”
Brilliant? He wanted to laugh in her face. I’m anything but that.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said.
“No.”
Jaeia walked over to the window and watched the activity below before she asked the harder question. “What are you going to do when you have to fight one of us?”
All the blood drained from his face. Fingers twitching, he couldn’t tell if he wanted to fight or flee.
“I know you and Jahx are close,” she continued, still trained on the battles in the main gaming arena, arms crossed in front of her chest. “I know he trusts you. You’re important to him, Cam. What you do has a huge effect on him.” She turned to him, eyes the same gray as the pale smoke of a dying fire. “On all three of us.”
The words sank into him with the same impact of a stone tossed into water. Shaking his head, he tried to free himself from the immersive sensation as she let her arms fall to her side. “You don’t always have to fight.”
But her statement sounded more like a question than something she felt with confidence; as if she herself had engaged in the argument more than once, with herself, or with her siblings.
Teeth gnashing through bone, pain tearing through his arm; the taste of blood in his mouth. “Kill the enemy before he’s got a chance to kill you.”
A red scarf in his hands.
“It’s all I’ve ever done,” he whispered.
“There’s always a choice,” she said, a sadness in her voice. “Even if you don’t see it right away. Just look for it. Promise me.”
“Promise you?”
“Please,” she said, reaching out, but pulling back her hand at the last second. “For me. For Jahx.”
Cam said nothing, unsure of what he could possibly say to such a thing. Tears in her eyes, the Fiorahian girl left, saying no more.
Cam stood in the observation booth alone, electronic noise rumbling in the distance.
She knows what I’m capable of.
(She’s just manipulating you.)
(You have no friends; only enemies.)
It doesn’t matter, he continued to remind himself. Kara was dead. His entire family was dead. Rogman was playing him for a fool, orchestrating the dark, sick game that stole away his fellow Cerkans and pitted twisted doctors against machine monsters—and who would soon harness the deadliest minds in the galaxy to win a godforsaken war.
She’s right, though, he decided, watching the children below battle each other for more than just rank. I have a choice.
Tightening both his fists, the scars on his arms and hands blanched. And I choose to fight.
Chapter 23
That night, lying his bunk, datapad propped on his stomach, Cam sent a message to Rogman with his Endgame arrangements. Since he’d already seen Jetta face Stempton, he only needed two more matches to prove his theory—
Shiggla, Teahvo
—and the final match, against the greatest Endgame player to date, to weed out the greatest threat of all.
Not that I don’t already know.
But he couldn’t clue Rogman in. So, he pitted several more cadets against each other in bogus matches, as well as made sure to stack Stempton’s schedule so he couldn’t do much more than take classes and battle. That should keep his focus off me.
And Jetta, especially after losing to her in a public match.
I have to keep Jetta safe, he thought, tapping the keyboard with his fingertips. (At least for now.)
If she, or any of her other siblings got beat up or sacked, then it might throw off his gamble.
As he added names to his match list, he realized one more factor: I can’t just throw the triplets into big matches right away.
Rogman would deconstruct his strategy out, figure out his targets.
Moving around his list, he allowed them each five to six matches against decent older cadets—enough that they’d be challenged but shouldn’t lose.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.”
Closing out his email, he looked over his shoulder to see the whispering speakers. Jetta and Jaeia, between their two bunks, looked at their respective bunkmate’s empty bed.
Tomia. Iggie. Reflexively, he scratched at the implant in his left forearm, then held it tight. What happened to them?
Even though he had some sense, he called up the public student profiles and searched for his fellow Cerkans.
Iggie Prys – transferred; medical.
Tomia Nosik – discharged; disciplinary.
“They’re gone,” he said, too quiet at first for the girls to hear him. Sitting up and swinging his legs around to sit at the edge of his bunk, he repeated: “They’re gone.”
Jetta and Jaeia, stepping closer to each other, turned their attention up at him.
“Gone?” Jetta said.
“Discharged. Transferred.”
The identical girls looked at each other a moment, exchanging whatever information close siblings did without words.
Jahx poked his head out from the bottom bunk. “I’m sorry, Cam.”
Already numbed to the loss, he didn’t give Jahx any hint of his feelings. “It’s a military academy,” he said, sounding more abrasive than he intended. “It happens.”
After throwing him a harsh glare, Jetta took her sister’s hand and led her to her bunk, away from the conversation. She motioned for Jahx to join them, but he shook his head at her, irritating her further.
“Sorry,” Jahx said as Cam laid back down on his own bed.
Hoping the Fiorahian boy would just go back to his own business, Cam didn’t respond, opening up a new search on his datapad.
But Jahx didn’t, popping up on the ladder, but not ascending farther than to keep his head the same level as Cam’s. “Did you see them before they left?”
The question jarred him.
Screech of metal—
Iggie, dressed in a patient gown, transformed, distressed—shattered: “The monster. The machine man. He’s here. He’s watching you. He’s watching all of us.”
Blood loss, tubes and wires—
Tomia, tugging on his arm. “Cam, come on—we have to go.”
“N-no.” Then, for whatever reason, he corrected himself, his answer coming out in a trembling whisper. “Yes.”
He expected questioning, prodding; an interrogation that would cement his resolve to do the unthinkable. Instead, Jahx gave him something equally disastrous.
Taking two more steps up the ladder, Jahx allowed himself enough reach and balance to lean over and embrace Cam.
No—
The hug surprised him, made his sensitized skin buzz and tingle. But before he allowed himself to feel more than the hurt and comforts it caused, he struggled and resisted, pushing the boy off.
“Get off,” he said through gritted teeth, rearing back his fist.
Jahx
caught himself on the bars of the ladder. “S-sorry, Cam. I just thought—”
“You can’t do that,” Cam said, fists still up, chest heaving.
“Jahx.”
Cam didn’t look down. He didn’t need to. He knew who stood below the black-haired boy, ready to fight.
“Jetta, I’m fine. It’s okay,” Jahx said, keeping between Cam and his truculent sister.
Turning back to Cam, Jahx offered another apology, but this time, his eyes, the same calming blues that could still his heart, looked beyond him, into some strange distance that stole him from the moment. “I’m sorry, Cam.”
Anger dissolving into an uncomfortable lump in his throat, Cam watched as the boy descended the ladder and followed her sister back to her bunk. Now joined with his siblings, he didn’t look back, studying whatever homework or program they ran on one of their datapads.
Cam laid back down, heart thumping in his chest, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, as his breathing and pulse wound down, he grabbed his datapad and pulled up his email to Rogman.
He didn’t draw out his request or provide explanation; he didn’t want Rogman to understand his motives, but he couldn’t allow such an event to occur.
Don’t match the triplets against each other.
Such a thing would have devastating consequences. They’re too close.
He sent off the email and shut down his datapad.
Lights out came, but he didn’t sleep. He waited, listening for Jahx to return to his bed, and settle in. It wasn’t until he heard the boy’s snoring that he finally crawled under the sheets and closed his eyes.
Still, he waited, listening in the dark for the inevitable sob and murmur as the boy’s nightmares unfolded.
“Please… don’t…”
Cam turned onto his side, facing the wall. Pressing his injured hand against the cold metal panel, he imagined himself transmitting through the solid surface, echoing out across the ship, to the stars, and beyond.
Kara, he thought, knowing she couldn’t possibly hear him. You would have done anything to end this war. You were ready to sacrifice everything, weren’t you?
Curling his fingers, the bones popped. So am I.
***
A week passed, and though Rogman didn’t contact him back, the gaming schedule matched the arrangements he made. The fact that the Commandant enacted his plan made him both excited and nervous.
What if he knows what I’m doing?
What if I missed something?
(I’m not smart enough; I’ll never pull it off.)
(What if I’m wrong?!)
He calmed himself with the same raw anger he’d been thriving on since finding out Kara died. It doesn’t matter if he figures it out.
I can’t be wrong.
The war ends here.
Climbing up the stadium seating to one of the middle rows in the gaming arena, Cam found an open bench away from most of the spectators awaiting the next big showdown. Walli versus Hoch caused a big stir, and Stempton fighting one of the juniors would draw a big crowd—but neither of those popular matches interested him. He came for the only one that mattered that day, the one that most other cadets would pass over.
Shiggla arrived first, followed by her usual entourage of admirers and fellow sophomores. As soon as he saw them, he tapped his datapad into the surrounding games, picking up their conversation.
“This is a joke,” she laughed to one of the other girls. “I can’t believe I have to play a stupid rat.”
“It’ll be over quick, Shiggla,” one of her friends said, looking over his shoulder as the triplets walked through the gaming room entrance.
Cam switched up the angles of the feed, trying to get a good view of the triplets, but they stayed close together, with Jetta in the lead.
What are you doing? he thought. Jetta, with her usual scowl, entered the arena ready to fight. But her siblings, not nearly as aggressive, hung behind her, worried looks on both their faces. What are you thinking?
Zooming in on Jaeia’s face, he studied her concern, watching as her pupils dilated and constricted, as if she focused back and forth on what was in front of her, and what lay far beyond.
You’re worried; you don’t know how you’re going to fight her, he thought, reading the subtle changes in her expression.
And she was right. Shiggla, a ruthless, skilled Endgame player, outmatched her in experience, and on every stat and tracker.
“She’s a jackal,” Jetta said as Jaeia sat down at the Endgame console. “She won’t go easy on you.”
“Great pep talk,” Jaeia muttered back.
But she’s right, Cam thought.
Jahx put a hand on her shoulder. “Just be patient. Your opportunity will come.”
Yes—if you dig a little deeper.
“Thanks, Jahx,” she said.
Cam swiped away the old angles on his datapad, changing the feed so he could see the Jaeia and Shiggla at the same time. Standing behind their sister, Jetta and Jahx fit inside the same frame.
The spherical playing field lit up, casting their faces in a blaze of electric colors.
“Kill her, Shiggla!” someone cheered.
The game got off to a fast start, with Shiggla sending her warship and legion of fighters into Jaeia’s scrambling fleet. Sweat beaded across the Fiorahian girl’s forehead, and ringed the neck of her uniform top.
“You’re getting eaten alive,” Cam muttered.
Her siblings, though they said nothing, stepped closer to their sister, their eyes trained on the game as Shiggla concentrated her fighters on one of Jaeia’s stray battleships.
Do something, Cam thought.
Under heavy fire, Jaeia’s battleship exploded, raining digital fire across the sphere.
You’re going to lose.
“You got her, Shiggla!”
“Stupid rat.”
“Time to send the launnie back to the gutters!”
Cam zoomed in Jaeia’s face. Terror, then panic. The threat of deportation to Fiorah sent a shiver down her spine and stole all the color from her skin. Nothing her siblings did—stepping in even closer, swaying, ever so slightly, in unison to some inaudible beat—made any difference.
Jaeia looked again at the game, to the shifting holographics.
What do you see? Cam thought, watching her eyes dilate, as if some terrible monster morphed inside the game.
(She’s breaking.)
Cam squeezed the sides of the datapad, waiting—hoping—for her to make the move. You can beat her. Just look.
Jaeia’s eyes darted to the scoreboard, then back to Shiggla’s face.
Look what she’s really after, he thought. It’s not just your warship.
Grips loosening on her controls, Jaeia called out to Shiggla: “You’re pretty good,” she said, voice sounding heavier, resounding across his datapad speakers, and somehow, over all the booming game noise. “But I hear your brother Soling is the real competitor. Isn’t he like fifty spots ahead of you? You’ll have to beat me and everyone else by at least two hundred points for the next month to even hope to catch up.”
Cam dug his fingers into both ear canals, trying to scratch an itch that went deep inside his skull. But as uncomfortable as he felt, he couldn’t imagine what Shiggla felt like as the target of Jaeia’s attack.
Jetta stepped forward, eyes wide, but saying nothing.
It’s too late, Cam thought, rubbing the outside of his ears.
Shiggla’s cheeks bloomed red as she moved her ground units too aggressively against Jaeia’s base, leaving herself exposed. Locking her fighters on Shiggla’s ground units, Jaeia commanded the remainder of her fleet to target the warship.
“It’s hard having a sibling who’s better than you at everything,” Jaeia continued as she set up for the final attack.
Don’t stop, Cam thought, especially as Jahx ran a hand through his hair and Jetta shifted back and forth, visibly uncomfortable. So close…
“I know how it is,” Jaei
a said to Shiggla, voice cutting across the room. “You end up as an afterthought. Or just plain forgotten.”
Shiggla’s lower lip trembled, her face contorting in bewilderment. Distracted and disoriented, she fell for the trap as Jaeia put out her battleship in a seemingly open sector. Springing her hidden forces, Jaeia demolished Shiggla’s pieces in seconds.
“How did you do that?” Shiggla asked, watching her own rankings drop on the scoreboard. Humiliation reduced her voice to a whisper. “Do you even know what this does to me?”
Yes, Cam thought, she knew exactly how to hurt you.
Members of Shiggla’s entourage gathered around her as she sobbed and shouted, muttering to each other.
“Jeez… I’ve never seen her like this.”
“Chakking rat.”
Wisely, Jetta pulled both of her siblings away as Shiggla, once a cocky and confident leader, descended into full hysterics.
“I can’t lose—I can’t lose!” she screamed, falling to her knees and pulling at her hair.
“This is gorsh-shit,” one of her friends said, holding Shiggla in her arms.
Surprise turned to ire for the rest of the entourage. “No launnie can do that!”
“That Fiorahian scum.”
Cam got one last look at Jaeia’s face as Jetta took her siblings’ hands and led them out of the game room. On the verge of tears, the gray-eyed girl looked just as fractured as Shiggla.
She didn’t want to do that.
The realization branched out across his chest like wildfire. Still, he ignored the pain, and his own terrible truth. Closing out his datapad, he sat in the shadows of the benches, alone with his secrets. Now I know what you’re capable of.
***
Ditching his last meal and his classes, Cam waited again in the stands for the last match he needed to see. Jahx arrived first, his sisters following close behind until he took his seat at the Endgame console.
They’re more cautious, he surmised, watching as the sisters took a seat on one of the stadium benches not far away from him.
Blue Sky Tomorrows Page 24