by R. L. Wolf
"Okay, we need to keep an eye on Toran while we're here," said Colt.
The other three nodded, but Wes couldn't resist. Colt was quickly seeing that Wes liked to joke around.
"I always wanted a pet goldfish," said Wes, grinning.
"You know we go to three different camps during training," said Toran, taking another swing at Wes. "Better be nice, because the next camp might be an ocean world, and stop calling me Fish Boy."
A warning alarm sounded, and the boys moved back to their seats for the descent to the surface, and Phase one of their Gunslinger training.
CHAPTER FOUR
First Merit
The landing gear groaned as the weight of the ship settled on the sixteen massive struts under the deck of the spacecraft. Colt felt the vibration in his legs as the ship adjusted and leveled itself on the rocky ground outside. He expected the engines to start winding down, but they remained on, the powerful turbines complaining in the dusty air of the desert. The boys released their harnesses and shoved at each other as they scrambled to the window.
"Where is it?" asked Austin, peering out the window.
"I don't know, all I see is desert," replied Toran, pushing Austin aside.
"I can see some mountains over there," said Garth, looking out the window he claimed as his own.
Tanner got up and tried to intimidate Garth into moving, but a single glance from Garth made Tanner find another window.
Colt kept his eye on the two older boys. Tanner returned to his seat and started arguing with the other older boy. The other older boy had never spoken to Colt or the others. Colt watched the older boy get up. He must have tired of arguing with Tanner. The older boy walked down the aisle towards Colt and the Merits. Toran jumped off the seat and placed himself in front of Colt. The others jumped down and took positions around their Gunslinger.
"Calm down," said the older boy. "I'm not going to cause trouble."
"What do you want?" asked Toran.
"My name is Roger. Tanner is my older brother."
"So," said Toran, squaring his shoulders for a fight.
"There are always two older students on board with the new team. We’re supposed to give you tips how to survive The Long Walk," said Roger.
"What are you talking about?" asked Colt.
"They’re going to drop you off here in the desert. You find the camp or die."
"They’re not going to let a bunch of kids die in the desert," said Colt.
"Yes, they will," said Roger. "You're not kids anymore. The Long Walk weeds out the weak that shouldn't be here."
"I've read everything about the Academy and never read anything like that before. You're lying," accused Wes.
"Believe what you want, but it's true. This is the most brutal training course there is," said Roger.
"Colt, this doesn't sound right," said Toran, shaking his head.
"You Merits spend years on the Merit list because Gunslingers don't fall off trees. They are rare, but a Gunslinger is born a Gunslinger, and no amount of training can make one. The training is for the Merits, but they still need to make sure the team is right, and this is the only way."
"Why me?" asked Colt. "I'm not special."
"You are special,” said Roger. “You’re a Gunslinger, but everything here is about the Merits."
"Tanner is a weak bully and a fool," said Colt. "How did he become a Gunslinger?"
"Don't underestimate Tanner. He's one of the best trackers, and he has some good Merits. It's always about the Merits."
The Marshal entered the passenger cabin carrying five water flasks. The cold set of the Gunslinger's eyes left Colt with little doubt something bad was about to happen.
"I believe you," said Colt. "What do we do?"
Toran and the other boys stared at Colt as if he just fell off a horse and addled his brains.
"Remember, the test ain't about you, listen to your Merits," said Roger.
The Marshal pushed past the older boy and started passing out the water flasks to Colt and the others.
"Go back to your seat, Roger," said the Marshal. "You had time to do what you were supposed to do and didn't. If any of them doesn't make it, I'm holding you and Tanner responsible."
The Marshal lowered the ramp, and a gust of hot, dry air hit Colt in the face. It was much hotter here than on Corvus. The sun was too bright after the dim lighting inside the Transport ship and burned at Colt's eyes. Toran stumbled off the ramp of the Transport, his hands over his face to shield himself from the brutal sun. Only Garth didn't mind the bright sun and heat, but from what little Colt could remember about the planet Cormon, it was a jungle world and always hot. The Marshal tossed the boy’s saddle bags out on the ground and pushed the confused Colt and the rest of his team down the ramp.
"Okay boys, there are no rules, 'cept stay alive," said the Marshal. "The training camp is out there somewhere. Find it." The Marshal raised the ramp, leaving the boys staring in disbelief. A few moments later the engines lifted the Transport ship off the ground, and they had to scramble away to avoid getting sandblasted. Colt and the boys stared at the ship ascending into the sky.
"Well dang if that ain't a twist," said Austin, grabbing his hat to keep it from being blown away.
"Yep, jokes on me for a change," replied Wes, scratching his head.
"Toran, where's your hat?" asked Colt.
"Blew off that way somewhere," replied Toran, waving his hand at the desert.
"Guys, help Toran find his hat while I think," said Colt.
Wes laughed, leaving Colt wondering what the joke was. Colt shrugged his shoulders and waited for the others to let him in on the joke. Wes wiped his eyes, took his hat off, and put it on Toran's head. Toran tried to refuse, but Wes insisted.
"Oh put it on, Fish Boy," said Wes. "We'll find your hat, but it would only take you a few minutes to fry like a fish in this sun."
Colt still didn't see what was so funny.
"I’m laughing because your first order as our Gunslinger is to send us to look for a hat," said Wes.
"Come on deputies, let's solve the mystery of the missing hat," said Austin.
Colt nodded and grinned to himself. Something Pa always did on the farm and hadn't made sense until this moment dawned on Colt. Pa would spend hours in the evening looking over names and arranging them into work teams. Colt was thinking the Gunslinger Marshal had done the same. This team fits too well together to be chance.
"That’s how Tanner made it," thought Colt. "The Marshal gave Tanner strong Merits to make up for him being a fool."
Colt knew he had a good team, and they would get through this, he just had to remember the lessons Pa taught him.
"Thanks, Pa," said Colt.
"Talking to yourself?" asked Toran, coming up behind Colt, and wearing his own hat.
"Well, what’s the plan?" asked Wes.
"Suggestions?" asked Colt.
"Split up, walk a few miles and return," said Toran.
"Search for tracks," said Garth.
Austin was staring at the mountain range in the distance. The rolling desert hills made it difficult to see any terrain features except for the mountains. "How far do you suppose those mountains are?" asked Austin.
"Hard to say in the desert, but maybe fifteen or twenty miles," replied Wes.
"Why here? Why did they drop us so close to the mountains?" asked Austin, shielding his eyes from the glare to try to see better.
The other three went over to stand next to Austin while Colt waited.
"You're right," said Garth. "Good job."
"You think the camp is in the mountains?" asked Colt.
"They put a Carinian on your team," said Toran. "But remember what Roger said. It's all about the Merits. They don't want to waste a Merit, and the fact is, I'll only last one or two days in this heat and I'm dead."
"Yep, they ain't going to kill Fish Boy for no reason," said Wes. "The camp ain't out here in the desert, it's in those mountains."
; "Even if it's not, we'll know which direction it isn’t, and there will be food and water up there," said Garth.
Colt waited as the four Merits discussed the choices. Roger was right. All Colt needed to do was listen to his Merits and form a plan from their ideas.
"Okay, grab your gear," said Colt, not meaning to make it sound like an order. "We walk until we get to the mountains. It will be easier once the sun goes down."
Austin picked up his saddle bag from the pile of gear and looked at it. “You know, I had to buy this thing special for the Academy, when do you think I get a horse to put it on?”
Toran retrieved his saddle bag from the pile and tossed it over his shoulder. “I had to order my saddle bag from off-world,” said Toran.
Garth’s saddle bag had clothing sticking out the sides. The bag was far too small for the large boy’s belongings. “I bought mine when I got to Corvus,” said Garth.
“Have you guys ever been on a horse?” asked Wes.
“I saw some in a parade once,” said Austin.
“We don’t have horses on Carina,” replied Toran.
“Neither do we,” said Garth. “Have you ever ridden a horse, Wes?”
“Naw, just a pack mule,” replied Wes.
“So Colt is the only one that knows how to ride, some Gunslingers we are,” said Austin.
“There’s probably a riding course at the academy,” said Colt, holding up the extra revolver. "Here, one of you needs to put this on."
The four Merits stopped what they were doing and turned to face Colt, but none of them said anything and their expressions were blank. Colt wasn't sure what this was about.
"Who wants to carry the extra gun?" asked Colt again, looking at each of the Merits.
The four boys didn't move a muscle, or say a word, and waited.
"Okay, what's going on?" asked Colt.
The boys remained silent.
"Seriously, come on, what's up?"
The boys wouldn't even blink an eye.
"Okay fine, Toran you take it," said Colt, annoyed and shoving the gun at Toran.
Toran didn't move.
"That's an order," said Colt, his anger and frustration rising.
Toran knelt on one knee, accepted the gun, and bowed his head.
"I will serve you for so long as I live, my Gunslinger," said Toran.
"Okay, what did I just do?" asked Colt.
Wes glanced at Toran, and then Colt. "The first of us you hand a gun becomes your First Merit," said Wes, sounding like he was reciting something from a book. "We will follow you to the grave, but your First will jump into the grave with you."
Colt's face turned red, the anger sweeping over him. He was standing in the desert, heading to an unknown camp, and all because he helped someone. He had never asked to be here, this wasn’t what he wanted.
"Why am I even here? I don't understand anything that's happening!" shouted Colt, his voice rising in pitch with his anger. "Gunslinger is just a thinly veiled title in the nobility of an ancient feudal system that should have died ten thousand years ago."
The Merits eyes widened in shock at Colt's disdain of a government older than some worlds entire civilization.
"Please don't ever say anything like that in public, they could hang you for a traitor," whispered Toran.
Colt stomped past Toran, grabbed his saddle bag, and started the walk to the mountains. The boys jumped to follow. They followed behind Colt for ten minutes before Wes came up next to Colt and jostled against him.
"What?" asked Colt.
"Your family are Cettise, aren't they?" asked Wes.
Colt only glanced at Wes but didn't answer. Pa always said never to tell anyone.
"Yep, you got the Cettise temper," said Wes. "I’ll tell you a secret."
"What?" snapped Colt.
"My family are Cettise too. Grandpa has a Cetti revolver hidden in the barn," admitted Wes.
"Really?" asked Colt.
"I saw it once," said Wes.
"I think my family is too," said Austin. "There's an old Cettise long rifle my Pa hides under his bed. Did you know all the most famous Gunslingers were Cettise?"
"Mine's not," said Garth.
"We figured," said Wes, giving Garth a wry grin.
"My tribe was the last to fall when the Cettise came," said Garth. "We held for three months at the siege of Gala."
"I'm sorry," said Colt, stopping and turning to face Garth.
"Don't be, we fought with honor and lost to the greater warrior," said Garth.
"You're real name isn't Garth, is it?" asked Wes.
"No, we were told to take Gunslinger names, so we don't stand out," replied Garth.
Wes laughed. "You're the size of a horse. I don't think it’s working."
"What's your real name?" asked Austin.
"Reli, son of Tumu, son of Paku, son of Konsu, son of…"
"All great warriors, I'm guessing," interrupted Wes. "And you speak Imperial Standard pretty good, I can barely hear your accent."
Colt kept silent on that point. Garth's accent was very noticeable.
“Wait, seriously?” asked Austin. “Your grandfather is General Konsu?”
“Yes,” replied Garth.
“Wow, he’s famous,” said Austin. “And you do speak Imperial really well.”
"The Imperial schools force us to speak Imperial Standard. We're not allowed to speak our native language in public," said Garth.
"That's just wrong," said Wes. "What about you, Toran?"
Toran shrugged. "My grandfather is Ryota'Sar."
"No way, the Commander of the Carinian Black Guard?" asked Wes.
"I did a school report on Ryota'Sar. He was a Cettise, and the first Kesune to marry a Carinian," said Austin.
"Everyone has some famous ancestor in their family if you search hard enough, it's what we do now that's important," said Toran, stepping in front of Colt.
"I'm sorry I yelled," said Colt, shrugging his shoulders.
"Don't take away our ceremonies, and all the things important to us," said Toran. "Like being part of something important, and having a House."
"Don't you have a House?" asked Colt.
"Yeah, we do, it's House Cyness," said Garth. "That's our House now."
Colt sighed. "I’m not a House Lord, and I was just a normal kid a month ago."
Toran handed the gun back to Colt. "Gunslinger is equal in rank to a House Lord, and you were never a normal kid," said Toran. “I saw on the News-Vid that you’re the son of the largest plantation owner on Corvus. You’ve been a Lord in all but name since you were born.”
Colt took the gun and held it for a moment. It was made for a Carinian, that's what Pa said.
"Toran'Sar, kneel," said Colt.
Toran knelt, and the others knelt behind him. Colt laid his hand on Toran's head.
"I, Gunslinger Cyness, raise you to the position of First Deputy," said Colt, and handed Toran the gun belt.
"I will serve you for so long as I live, my Gunslinger, and friend," said Toran, bowing his head.
"Rise, First Deputy Toran'Sar, and never again kneel to another man, not even me," said Colt.
Toran got up and wrapped the gun belt around his waist. The others stood and pounded Toran on the back. Colt thought Toran looked happy and felt ashamed he had almost taken this moment from Toran. He would be careful never again to insult his Merits, or anyone else, because of his temper.
"Okay, we have a long way to go," said Colt.
"You heard him, you cow heads," said Toran. "Let's move it."
"You've never even seen a cow," said Wes, lining up behind Colt.
"No, not like that," said Toran. "We walk beside Colt, not behind him, he's our friend."
"Thanks, Toran," said Colt.
The four Merits lined up next to Colt, and together the five boys set out across the desert for the mountain range.
"I know what a cow is," said Toran, walking beside Wes.
"Okay, so tell us what
a cow is, Fish Boy," replied Wes.
"It's a four-legged reptile with a long trunk for a nose, and horns on its head," replied Toran.
Wes bit his tongue to keep from laughing. "Yep, that's a cow, but it also has a spiked tail to fight off its natural predator, the fang-toothed spotted-mountain beaver."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," said Toran, nodding his head sagely.
Colt rolled his eyes—it was going to be a long walk.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Long Walk
Heat rose from the sand, blurring the horizon. Colt thought he saw people several times. The desert was playing cruel tricks on his eyes. Austin thought he had seen a lake several miles back, and Toran stumbled onward out of sheer stubbornness. Colt glanced up at several big black birds following them in lazy circles.
"Hey guys, how you doing?" asked Colt through cracked lips.
"Vish is phun, shwud do it more ophten," replied Wes, slurring his words around a tongue that didn't want to work anymore.
"Take a sip of water, you’re not talking right," said Colt. "Everyone take a sip, Toran, you take two sips."
Toran tripped and crumpled onto the hard salt-packed desert. Colt knelt, his knees screaming at the abuse, and rolled Toran over. Garth joined Colt and laid his massive paw-like hand across Toran's forehead.
"He's not doing so well. Is his skin supposed to be rubbery?" asked Garth.
"We stop here until night. None of us can take this heat anymore," said Colt.
"I got an idea," said Austin, unrolling the blanket tied to the side of his saddlebag. "Everyone sit down around Toran and hold up a corner of the blanket."
The boys pulled the blanket tight and held it over their heads to get the brutal sun off them. Colt dug a hole next to Toran's head and lined it with a jacket from his saddlebag as Toran struggled to breathe.
"Help me put his head in the hole," said Colt.
"I don't phink he's dead yet, shouldn't fe phait," mumbled Wes, still fumbling to get the cap off his water flask.
"We aren't burying him, the jacket is waterproof," said Colt, taking the flask and pulling it open for Wes. "I think we need to get his gills wet."
"Does anyone know if they can breathe fresh water?” asked Garth. “We might drown him."