When Brickert and Sammy got back to their room that night, they set up stuff all over the room for target practice: shoes, water bottles, just about anything not nailed down. For three hours, they shot blasts at them, laughing hysterically whenever one of them hit a bottle so hard it sprayed water onto the carpet. They talked about being Psions, the girls, and other hobbies. When Brickert asked about Sammy’s home and family, Sammy steered the conversation away, always carefully guarding his secrets.
The next few days went much like Monday. Exercise, instruction, sims, and hanging out with the other “nukes” during mealtime. Sammy found the busier he kept himself, the less he missed his old friends. Still, he often lost himself in his thoughts wondering where they were, what they were doing, if they were okay. Almost every night, several Betas played Star Racers, and each time they did, Sammy had to turn down about a dozen invitations to join them. Everyone wanted another shot at beating him—Kobe in particular. Sammy was content playing pool, shooting baskets, or challenging whoever would play him to a chess match. The few games he played, he won easily. Soon, no one wanted to play him. And by the end of his first week, Sammy thought life was going to be fairly routine.
Then he had Friday sims.
Monday through Thursday, he had moved rapidly through the Introduction subunits. He had easily mastered high and low energy projections enabling him to hover and create a strong projectile shield. Blast acrobatics proved to be a bit tougher, but once he got the hang of bouncing off the walls and floor in a rapid succession using his hands and feet, it wasn’t too bad.
He had just completed another section of the blast acrobatic unit when, as usual, Byron appeared, congratulating him on finishing the section. The green-colored Introduction subunits on the panel were gone. Instead was a new, longer list of units in blue.
The first one read: Elementary Combat. Sammy grinned and tossed his bottle aside. Combat sounded like something he’d like. With renewed enthusiasm, he touched the icon to start the new unit. Byron’s hologram appeared:
“Welcome to the secondary units. Now that you have mastered the elementary skill of your psionic powers, you will learn to use them against simulated enemies. As you will see, these units gradually become more advanced, and will test your stamina and creativity. In most scenarios, there are many possible tactics or solutions for success. Some will be more effective than others; review the recordings of your performances to learn from your mistakes. If you need help with a particular unit, consult with other Betas or myself.
“In many situations, competition can improve performance. From this point on, you will be compared on a standard with the other Betas who have also reached this level and beyond in their training. If you wish, you may see how you rank in the personal statistics menu in your com. The areas of comparison are timeliness, accuracy, efficiency, and overall performance. The latter is an average of the first three areas weighted to their importance. You will only know your own rank out of the total number of participants.”
Sammy activated his com and called up the stats option. In each of the four categories it listed him as the sixteenth of sixteen. He smiled to himself. We’ll see how long that lasts.
The commander introduced the new unit. Sammy had to dodge enemy attacks without making any physical contact or using attacking blasts. When Byron finished speaking, a man in black t-shirt and torn pants appeared. The image reminded Sammy of Gunner, who only ever wore black. Then the man ran at Sammy. Caught off guard at the sudden reality of his situation, Sammy panicked and stumbled backwards. The man was quickly upon him and viciously kicked Sammy in the head. It was a strange sensation. Sammy felt the kick, but judging by how hard the man had struck at him, it should have broken his nose and caused a lot of pain. Instead it merely registered as a touch. The man disappeared, and Byron reappeared to demonstrate a few techniques used to evade attacks.
This time Sammy felt more ready. When the man came at him, Sammy blast-jumped and landed safely meters away. The man turned to attack him again, aiming punches at Sammy’s head and chest. Sammy ducked and dodged them, finishing with another blast-jump away from danger.
He was surprised at the rush he got from the fight. The enemy was fake, but his brain reacted otherwise, flooding his body with adrenaline. The holograms became faster and more aggressive. Sammy made plenty of mistakes, but most often he successfully completed each trial the first time. After completing all of the evasive trials, Byron instructed Sammy how to use his appendages and blasts to block the blows of his enemy.
As his combat training continued, Sammy grew aware of certain patterns of combat. The enemies usually tried to force him into a corner because Sammy had the advantage in open space. They often aimed for the most vital parts of the body: the face, groin, and stomach. Friday’s simulations worked him harder than any other so far. He left exhausted and eager for dinner. As usual, he joined the other four in the cafeteria.
“You’re out of your mind,” Jeffie said to Sammy while twirling spaghetti noodles on her fork. “Holo-films are way better than screenies.”
“She’s right,” Kawai told him. “Everyone in my village goes to holo-films.”
Sammy could barely suppress a smirk when Kawai spoke. Brickert grinned, too. They had noticed whenever Kawai talked about something really important her head had a funny way of wagging, making the feathers in her hair stick up taller. It reminded Sammy of the peacocks in the zoo.
“But of course you’re not biased,” he remarked to Jeffie, “because your mom is the only Norwegian holo-film director. Holo-films are too limited with what they can do. Screen films are way better and make more money.”
“My mom says holo-films cater to a more elite audience,” Jeffie responded. “You know, people who understand the intricacies of art. I guess you’re just too shallow—”
Kawai cleared her throat loudly, and Jeffie stopped her sentence. Sammy noticed this was happening more and more frequently. Either Kawai had a cold or she’d decided to help Jeffie censor herself. “Never mind,” Jeffie finished, glaring at Kawai.
Jeffie came from a very wealthy Norwegian family. Her father had been a professional athlete in multiple winter sports, and her mother was heavily involved in the entertainment industry. She had five siblings (all brothers) and from the sound of it, her life before coming to headquarters had been one great adventure. Her parents often took the kids on expensive excursions to tour the sets of big-budget movies and to watch high-profile sporting events all around the eastern world. In fact, at the NWG World Cup in 2084, Jeffie had her first taste of her psionic abilities.
As she told it, Norway trailed Portugal 3-4 with only a few minutes remaining when a vendor trying to sell drinks blocked Jeffie’s view. Furious, Jeffie accidentally blasted the vendor into a crowd of people. After taking care of the damage, Byron visited the Tvedts and told them their daughter’s “telepathic experience” was really an anomaly that could be exercised and controlled in the proper setting. They were thrilled at the prospects of their daughter’s next big enterprise, and Jeffie was still mad that Norway lost.
“So what did you think of hovering?” Kawai asked, obviously steering the discussion away from something Jeffie wasn’t so defensive about.
“Still working on it,” Brickert mentioned half-heartedly.
“Don’t worry,” Natalia said as she examined her new purple hairstyle in the reflection of her spoon. “I heard it took Gregor a month to finish the Introduction units.”
“Who’d you hear that from?” Sammy asked. Natalia had a way of knowing how long it took everyone to do everything.
“Asaki,” she answered.
Sammy nodded. Asaki was Natalia’s roommate and seemed a perfect fit for her. Two gossip queens who could sit up all night and share hard-earned information with each other.
“Natalia, stop staring at yourself,” Kawai said, snatching the spoon from her. Natalia tried to grab it back, but Kawai tossed it to Brickert. Brickert looked at Sammy for a
moment, trying to decide what to do, then gave it back.
“I’m not sure I like it,” Natalia said, holding a few strands out. “Maybe I should have done blue—like the light blue on Sammy’s clothes.”
Jeffie smirked at Sammy and then made a face.
“So . . . back to the sims,” Sammy said.
“I thought hovering was pretty easy—” Jeffie started to say, but under Kawai’s look she added, “—harder than blast variation, though.”
Sammy suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. Jeffie seized every opportunity to brag about how far along she was.
“How far are you again, Sammy?” Jeffie asked.
Sammy picked at the ravioli on his plate and toyed with the idea of telling Jeffie that he had already finished the introduction units. However, he did not want to risk getting on her bad side again, and even more, he did not want Brickert to feel inferior. So he made the choice to maintain his carefully crafted lie of how he was always just behind Jeffie.
“I’m just about to start the subunit you’re on,” he told her.
Jeffie gave him a polite nod. “We should play some Star Racers tonight. You up for it?”
Sammy was about to tell her that he would have to take a rain check when a small group of Betas, led by Al, approached their table.
“Which of you is it?” Al asked, his voice intentionally mysterious.
The five each looked at each other to see who knew what Al was talking about. Apparently nobody did.
“Is what?” Kawai asked Al.
“Which of you started secondary units today?” Kobe answered for Al.
Sammy tried to put on a face to match his friends. He had forgotten the older Betas would see a new competitor on their rankings.
“Oh, come on,” Kobe said. “One of you cracked through the secondaries already. We all know it.”
“How would you know?” Jeffie asked him.
“Because,” answered Al, “our per-stats show sixteen people in the competition, not fifteen like the last couple months.”
“And the only way that can happen,” Kobe added, looking at each of them with mock suspicion, “is if a puke already finished the introductions.”
Sammy tried to act as surprised as he could. He didn’t want to think about what Jeffie or anyone else would say if they found out he had just lied to them.
“Come on, out with it. Which of you was it?” Kobe questioned. “I can guess it probably wasn’t you, Bricky boy. Being the youngest and smallest doesn’t carry any advantages around here.”
A couple of people laughed, but bright red spots appeared on Brickert’s cheeks.
“Shut up, Kobe!” Sammy snapped. “For all you know it was him, being young doesn’t mean jack—”
“Dude, chill out.” Kobe said, waving Sammy off. “I know it wasn’t you, either.”
“Are any of you going to confess to it?” Al asked. “Because whoever it was, one week through the introduction is the fastest I’ve ever heard of, and I’ve been here five years.”
Natalia’s eyes got really big at this piece of news. Kawai and Jeffie still shrugged. When they saw no one was going to confess, the older kids dropped it and left.
“So which of you was it?” Natalia whispered as soon as they were alone again. “Was it you, Jeffie?”
“No, but I’m really close,” she answered. “Maybe they’re already counting me in. Was it you, Kawai?”
“Nope,” she said. “Sammy?”
“I already told you where I am,” was all he could think to say. He said it with the most honest expression he could muster. They all seemed to believe him, but Brickert’s eyes lingered on Sammy a little longer.
Jeffie wondered aloud, “So weird. If it wasn’t one of us, how could that happen?”
“Maybe there was some kind of an error in the system,” Kawai offered.
“Or maybe one of us just doesn’t realize we’ve finished the introduction,” Brickert said. “You know, like maybe you finished the last part of it as you left, Jeffie.”
“Yeah, that could be,” Sammy quickly agreed.
After exhausting that topic, the five friends launched into a discussion on plans for the weekend. They were so involved with food and conversation that no one noticed when Commander Byron entered the cafeteria. Everyone else stopped talking and looked up.
“No need to stop anything on my account,” Byron said.
It surprised Sammy that he had not seen the commander since Sunday, and yet Byron’s absence already seemed normal. Byron did not otherwise interact with the Betas on a daily basis, but when he came into a room, everyone gave him full attention.
“I need to see the five new recruits, please,” he said.
“Oh. They have to learn about the Game,” Rosa said to Marie and Miguel.
Sammy had completely forgotten about the Game. He knew from snips of conversations that it was played every Saturday, and Natalia, of course, had tried to press people for more information, but almost everyone she talked to had insisted the information only came from Byron.
Natalia, Brickert, Kawai, Jeffie, and Sammy followed Byron to the exercise room where he waited for them to get comfortable.
“How was the first week?” he asked.
Everyone nodded or mumbled something positive, except Brickert who said “awesome” too enthusiastically.
“What made it so awesome?”
“I don’t know,” Brickert hesitated to answer. “It’s fun here.”
“I hope all of you are having an ‘awesome’ time,” the commander said. “I want a few minutes to tell you about tomorrow’s Game. First of all, it is a training tool, a place for you to put aside your egos, your prejudices, and learn cooperation and execution. Every Saturday, at a random point in the day, you will be alerted when it is time to play. When that happens, go to your room, change into your special jumpsuit, get your helmet, and go to the cafeteria for your assignment.
“Each week I assign different honchos to lead the teams. Eventually you will have turns, but not until you reach a certain point in your sims. You may think the Game is about winning; it is not. It is about learning to execute an assignment, or, when you are honcho, learning to be a leader. This is the best training you will have to fight Thirteens when you become Alphas. Inside the Arena, you will be challenged to develop adaptability, technique, and above all—” he momentarily glanced at Sammy, “—trust. Have fun tomorrow, but remember what this is all about.
“Second, some basic things you need to know. We usually play a set of Games. The computer will inform you how many wins are in a set. Your suits are made of noblack and are specially designed to absorb enormous amounts of shock, but you can still get hurt if you fall a long distance. So be careful—the floor inside is not electro-gel like in the sim rooms. Your helmets will be your enemies’ targets. If you ever get hit in the head, your helmet will blind you, and your suit will become immobilized. Protect your head. Listen to your honcho. Work hard. Anything else you need to know, you can pick up inside the Arena as you play. You are all dismissed.”
They walked back to the cafeteria talking about the Game. Natalia was the most excited, as she had pried some information out of her roommate. Jeffie, Kawai, and Brickert hung onto her every word.
“Each Game has a different scenario. Sometimes they’re really long and we only play one, and sometimes they’re all really short and we play best of seven. Asaki even said that one time—”
“Are you guys going to play Star Racers?” Li interrupted.
“Of course,” Jeffie said.
The other three also voiced their willingness, then they turned on Sammy. Despite his protests, they forced Sammy to join them. Even his best excuses would not work. Al kept reminding him that it was a Friday and he had nothing better to do. Since Sammy knew they all wanted another chance at beating him, he agreed.
He ended up playing several games. Just like before, he saw what he needed to do to win, and never lost a game. What made the night
even better was Kobe refusing to give up his seat, even when he finished third or worse. He kept insisting that he would win the next game. Sammy made it a point to take Kobe out first whenever he could. They never spoke about it—their private vendetta was beyond words.
Jeffie, on the other hand, had no problem venting her frustrations. To her credit, she never lost her temper, but Sammy could see that losing chafed her badly. He wanted to apologize after the gaming finished, but she shot him a look; it was civil, but warning. Unlike last time, Brickert left for bed with Sammy. Kobe stayed behind. Sammy chuckled at the thought of Kobe trying to prove he was still second best.
Brickert was quiet as they walked downstairs with Kawai and Jeffie’s roommate, Brillianté. They came to the girls’ floor, and Brickert, blushing, barely managed a simple “goodnight” to Brillianté. Sammy did not even try to figure out why his roommate was so tongue-tied. The silence continued as they descended one more level. No sooner had the door to their bedroom closed then Brickert turned to Sammy and blurted, “It was you!”
“What was me?” Sammy froze in the middle of taking off his jumpsuit and looked at his roommate.
“You passed the introduction units. I know it was you.”
With all the talk of the Arena and his intense pleasure in blowing up Kobe in Star Racers, their earlier conversation had slipped from Sammy’s head, but Brickert must have been waiting to say something all night.
“Why do you think it was me?”
“Sammy, you’re the best at everything, I’ll tell you. I’m your best friend; I can tell when you’re lying.”
“Oh,” Sammy laughed. “You can read me like a book, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Brickert said, smiling back. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Sammy let out a long breath. “Fine, yeah, it was me. But please don’t tell anyone else. I don’t want more attention or jealousy from Jeffie. You know how she gets, even over that—that stupid game.”
Psion Beta (Psion series #1) Page 10