by J. D. Hale
“The gem at the bottom,” I began, “they say its magic. I read somewhere that any blade holding one instantly tripled the strength of its wielder.”
She gaped at it, “I feel more…empowered, somehow. This is it.”
I nodded, beaming, “Shall we fight?”
She nodded fervently.
“To make it more fair, I’ll grab a sword, too.” I picked up on of the heavier, more powerful swords and pointed it at her, “I’ll go easy on you.”
“I’m sure I can hold up.” She replied confidently.
“At least I warned you.” I shrugged, “Ground rules: no direct stabbing, or at least nothing that could kill. No throat slitting or heart, or hearts, in my case, puncturing. Never kill your training instructor.”
She nodded.
“Alright. I’ll start,”
I started with a light wave at her legs. She jumped up and gracefully tried to lungs at my stomach. That was her fatal mistake. I disarmed her weapon by sticking the blade of my sword to the hilt of hers and twisting it out of her hands.
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Iesleen asked, almost awed. She picked up her sword and smiled.
“Yeah,” I preformed the move again, slower, and explained it to her.
She nodded, “I want to start this time.”
She took me by surprise and hit the side of my arm with the flat of her blade. I was momentarily distracted, and she smacked in my collarbone with the hilt of her sword. I returned by putting a long cut down her left arm. She grimaced and whirled around, sidetracking me. In a gracefully terrifying arc, she sliced from my collarbone down to my navel. I gasped back in shock, but then steeled myself. My sword made crushing contact with hers high in the air, and I pushed Iesleen back until she was up against the wall. I disarmed her again, this time hitting her hand with the hilt of my sword so hard that she dropped her weapon. I held the end of my sword to her neck and she took a deep breath.
Sweat gleamed on her face and shoulders and her breaths came in short bursts.
“Had enough?” I smirked.
I waited for her to nod, but she just smiled.
“Never.”
I healed her arm quickly, and partially healed the wound on my chest, leaving a long, jagged scar. It was a ghastly scar, but I had no desire to get rid of it. Unlike many, I take pride in my scars, bearing as many killer battle wounds as possible while still remaining appealing to look at.
We fought again.
She struck with a blow that would’ve killed me, had I neglected to dodge, by jabbing towards my stomach with surprising strength. I swiftly countered by utilizing one of the most necessary skills in life – pressure points. She spun around, and I grabbed her arms, restraining her. I hit the hilt of my sword to the hollow of her head (where the neck meets the head) and she immediately collapsed on the ground.
I cracked my knuckles and waited.
It took a few seconds, but she came to, completely alert.
“How did you do that?” She gaped.
“There are four pressure points in your body that, with enough force, can knock a person unconscious or even kill them. I’ll show you. This,” I touched the place on her neck that I had just hit, “is called the gallbladder twenty point. It shuts down your gall-bladder and leads you to pass out. Here,” I pushed my index finger into the right side of her lower jaw, “is your stomach five point. It targets acid in your stomach. Right here,” I pressed the flat of my hands into the space one inch below the crease of her elbow, “is the lung five point. It makes you go weak in the knees and fall down. And my favorite is this.” I poked her behind the left ear – only lightly – and she looked woozy, “That’s the triple warmer seventeen point. Super powerful. If you remember these, you can take out anyone easily.” I told her quietly.
She grinned, “Brilliant. Now I’m quite finished. I need some rest.”
“Of course. I’ve got some research to do, anyways.” I said, and we headed downstairs together.
Ten minutes later, I sat at my desk, diligently pouring over the Prime Minister’s books on the Xeron.
The Xeron, I read to myself the introduction, is the most powerful of all police equipment. With everything from mind reading capabilities to hypnotic powers, it is coveted by many. And, though it is so sought after, everything and anything is guarding it. I have worked with everyone in the Intergalactic Police Force to ensure that it will never be stolen.
I skipped ahead to the chapter on defenses.
Chapter Eight: Basic Protection
Though this information is strictly classified…
I sighed.
…there are a few things I can give away. The most simple of defenses is the fact that the Xeron itself is buried thousands of feet underground. On the highest levels are simple locks and trip wires to padlocks and complex puzzle keys. Lower down, every test gets harder. There are thousands of passwords that must be entered and loads of traps that lead downwards. My favorite trap is, of course, the great beast (the name of which even I do not know) living in the center of a massive pit. Lower down is…
I gave up, my concentration distracted by something that I just couldn’t place.
Of course, it was possible that my brain was rejecting the material because I simply wanted to keep it a surprise, but that’s unlikely.
I stuffed the books back under my desk and walked out of the room, briefly noticing Az Salus’s glistening sword in my bag. Then, thoughts of my brother sprang into my head. Running downstairs, I was practically tripping over my own feet to see him. Downstairs, Rowan was on the couch, rubbing his arm.
“Are you okay?” I whispered and scurried over to him.
He stood and grimaced, “Yeah, it’s just a little…”
He faltered and gasped. I helped him back to the couch.
“You really need to rest, Row.” I said sympathetically, “You lost a lot of blood.”
He smiled dolefully, “I don’t know if I really should’ve done it.”
I let my voice drop as low as possible, “I think it was really brave. Iesleen would’ve died if it’d been her. You’re amazing, and I know that everyone here now trusts you with their lives.”
He grinned and lay back, “I’ll be up and fighting by tomorrow.”
I smiled at him, and he laid hid head back to rest.
Ten minutes later, I was upstairs, thinking about Az’s sword. It glittered in my hand.
The sword was truly magnificent.
It was obviously made from Earthen materials – a silver blade with blood red rubies encrusted along the center. The hilt was pure black obsidian. For some reason, it was inscribed with Latin, which I couldn’t read. Silly little humans coming up with too many languages to keep up with. I had neglected learning Latin since no humans use it anyways.
There was one word, of course, that I recognized.
Lamina Zenda. Devovet, et destruit omne multis, et herba titulari hoc facere.
Zenda.
“Ross!” I yelled out, too impatient to go find him.
In about a minute, Ross ran into my room, looking alarmed.
“What?!” He was scared.
“It’s not a big deal. What do these words say?” I handed him in the blade.
He stared at it for a moment, carefully examining it, “’The Blade of…Zenda? She curses all and destroys many, and may the holder of this blade do the same.’ Sounds ominous, huh?”
The words seemed to resonate through my bones.
“So Zenda is controlling the police.” I whispered to myself in disbelief.
“Zenda…? Oh!” Ross exclaimed, “She’s the woman that the Prime Minister was talking about a week ago – who’s been threatening Saize and stuff. What does she have to do with us?”
I explained everything to Ross then, and told him to relay it to Iesleen. He rushed out, and I was left to fiddle with the sword.
Salus has said it could be collapsed and would go through a metal detector, which made no sense as t
he blade it obviously silver. It took me a while, but I determined that by pressing the rubies in a certain pattern, it would collapse down to the size of a pencil. Then, if you simply grabbed the hilt, it expanded.
Genius.
July 1st 10:55 am
Dunham Mountain Lodge, Loco, Neolis
On the first day of July, three feet of snow fell. Staff were working around the clock to protect the house from any damage, repair the window, and clear off the snow. It was unusually windy, with gusts that almost knocked me down when I went outside. The clouds appeared as if the would engulf you as lighting shattered through the snow.
That was the first day Iesleen beat me.
Iesleen and I were covered in sweat after four hours of straight training. It was truly the first time I had worked hard enough against an opponent to sweat at all, and I was completely battered. But, after I took some water and cooled down a bit, I was raring to go again, and she was more than a match.
“Still ready to go, Dunham?” Iesleen taunted, “Because, if you’re not tough enough, I could just let you accept defeat and move on.” She jumped up and down, adrenaline pumping through her body.
I shook my head, “Only ready if you are, McDonnell. Of course, you’re looking a little tired, maybe we should stop.” I jibed sardonically.
“Whenever you’re ready to lose.” Iesleen smiled.
I ran at her, lightning fast, and kicked her in the shins. She was becoming so toned that my toe got bruised slamming her. Jabbing her in the stomach with my iron fist, I scowled ruefully. Iesleen was just as grimly determined, returning every hit with dangerous pre-cision. My elbow made shattering connection with her jaw, and she looked woozy for a moment, but then crushed my ribs with her forearm. The wind was knocked out of me, and I wheezed. Surprisingly, Iesleen didn’t soften. She grabbed me by the crook of my elbow and slammed me onto my back. I jumped up, still panting, but managed to knock in her collarbone. With her left arm, she punched me in the mouth, crushing my lower lip into the sharp points of my teeth. Blood dripped down my face and pain flashed up. Of course, I still managed to smack the side of her face with the flat of my hand. Iesleen frowned and punched my neck. My gag reflex kicked in and I doubled over, blood drip-ping onto the mat. Iesleen jumped up and slammed her knee into my back, and I fell to the ground. Her heel connected with my side, and she pinned me down – her elbows on my shoulders.
I spat out a mouthful of blood and smiled a ghastly smile.
“Congratulations. You’re the first person who’s ever beaten me in a fight.”
She helped me up and I leaned heavily on her, still hurting from another massacre.
“In a week, it’s the big day.” I grinned tiredly.
“Your teeth look so disgusting.” She laughed and pulled the blue bottle from the rack near us. I learned something extremely unpleasant when I swished it around my mouth. The taste of the healing gel was a mix between something sweet with a load of chemicals, and murky, fishy pond water. I made a mental note to try not to hurt my mouth again.
Iesleen and I parted ways. She to the living room to see Rowan, and I retired to my room to brush my teeth.
The following week was a storm of madness. Ross was trying diligently to train as hard as he could, attempting to make it to my high physical standards. Though his arms were weak as a little girl’s, his mind was even stronger than mine. His will had jumped so high that he could do almost as much as Rowan and I without trying. I was utterly awed by him every day we spent together.
Iesleen continually strived to beat me, but had thus far only crushed me once. She could punch holes through a computer screen, and always kept her knuckles bandaged. Her own will wasn’t yet as strong as Ross’s, but still impressive enough to close doors and move boulders. And every single day she pulled out a new hat that was totally ridiculous and never failed to make me smile.
My twin brother’s abilities have stayed relatively the same. But I had noticed some-thing changed in him. Every time he was near Iesleen, his hard façade seemed to fade a bit and he was exceedingly at ease. He almost…flirted with her. It was strange to see some level of romance between my brother and Iesleen. But, I had to admit, I completely approved if they ended up in a relationship. The two people in the universe that could crush me in a fight were bound to have some sort of chemistry.
As for myself, I had been cramming as much information as possible – on everything from the new Intergalactic Police Chief, Az Salus, to the Xeron and everything guarding it – into my brain as quickly as possible. I memorized the patterns of the tunnels and all the measures of security necessary to get into the building. Apparently, there were DNA tests, eye scans, blood drawings, and all sorts of questioning.
I was more than looking forward to the challenge.
In other news, Ross and Iesleen had finally been discovered in the public eye. I had taken them out for an exercise in recognizing members of the Intergalactic Police Force, and a fight broke out. One of the higher-ups had decided I was too dangerous to be wandering the streets and made the idiotic attempt to arrest me. Cameras showed up almost instantly showed up when Iesleen and I started destroying him in a fight while Ross rewired his car so the officer couldn’t get away. Police later took Iesleen and Ross’s blood samples from the scene and identified them as ‘two average teens from one of the most average places on Earth working with the most dangerous teens in the universe.”
July 10th 7:00 am
The Wythe Mansion, Unami, Planet Saize
We had traveled this morning to my favorite mansion for one reason and one reason only: everything I would need to disguise four people was there. Ross had spent a good forty five minutes when we first arrived studying the gravity-defying architecture of the mansion, and gawking at almost every detail. Iesleen and Rowan had trailed behind Ross and I, laughing and chatting excitedly.
Now, we were all in my closet, looking around nervously.
“The Institute opens in two hours, and we’ll be ready. Rowan, you’re first. Iesleen, Ross, you can leave.” I told them. The two shuffled out and Rowan stayed behind.
I got to work on the most important task – giving him fake blood samples. I had spent hours last week creating latex fingerprints and ‘collecting’ blood samples. I had simply dashed from planet to planet, fighting people until I collected enough blood for all the tests. On the counter in front of me sat four jars filled with blood – each labeled with one of our names – and I lifted Rowan’s. His was taken from a Native Neoli, and I’d sent out for perfect replicas of their parts. Carefully – so, dreadfully carefully – I used a syringe to inject less than an ounce of blood into the latex print. I coated it in prosthetic glue and held it, for about thirty seconds, to Rowan’s right index finger.
“They’ll ask for your dominant hand. Give them your right, since the man I took this from was right programmed. Now, stay still while I fit you with a new face.
A classic Neoli has a long, thin nose like an icicle and almost non-existent lips. First, I blended his skin with face crème to make him have an almost blue hue. Then, I applied the nose, made of malleable plastic that held extreme resemblance to skin. While I was at it, I trimmed his hair and gave him a bald cap, already toned to match the Neoli skin coat.
“You look ridiculous.” I grinned, and he smiled back.
I handed him a bag packed with everything he would need to get his disguise off.
“I’ve left clothes on your bed. In the front pocket are your identifications. Go change and meet us downstairs. Send in Iesleen, she’s going to love her disguise.” I told him.
A few moments later, Iesleen trotted into the closet.
“I’ve planned a great disguise for you.” I said, and she smiled, still looking nervous.
“You’re not going to make me look like an alien, are you?” She grimaced.
“Actually, no. I've planned out a completely human masquerade.” I replied.
She exhaled, obviously relieved.
&
nbsp; It took only a few moments to transform her into an Italian-looking beauty. I had chosen a beaked-like, regal nose. It took a little longer than necessary to thicken her eyebrows, since I had to glue on every hair. Her blood sample was from a real Italian, descended from royalty.
“You’ll need contacts, only since your eyes are different colors. That would be a dead giveaway that you’re not from royalty. Look at the ceiling without tilting your head.”
She looked up, and I inserted brown-tinted contacts into her eyes. She blinked a few times and shook her head.
“Brilliant. There’s a red dress in you closet with golden trim – your identification is in a matching handbag.”
Iesleen looked in the mirror and smiled.
“Are you as excited as I am?” She laughed.
“More, I assure you.” I giggled back, “Send in Ross.”
She plodded off and a little while later, Ross came in.
With Ross, I got right to work, trying not to start talking. I knew that if any superfluous chatting went on between us, I would be distracted for the rest of the day.
Somehow, I already knew someone that Ross was almost identical to – the mayor of my home city, Unami, who was currently out on inter-planetary, top secret business that not even the Prime Minister knew about. Ross hardly needed any disguise at all. The only thing truly necessary was a pair of dark brown contacts to go over his caramel eyes. It had taken longer to get them than normal because Ross required prescription contacts (the Mayor of Unami has 20/20 vision, Ross…doesn’t) instead of just color, like I was used to. It was a bit of a challenge to get in his contacts.
He flinched when I put the first contact in, and it took four tries to put in the second one. But, eventually, he looked perfect. The next thing to do was make it look like he was in his mid-forties, instead of his late teens. It was simple to give him laugh-lines and thin, spindly crow’s feet. I made the crown of his hair back an inch, as if he was losing it.