Harmonics: Rise of the Magician (Harmonics Series Season One)

by Chris Snelgrove

  This morning wasn't any different; there was already an expanding crowd of students whooping at the current proceedings. Sam and Cammie pushed their way through the crowd. Sam groaned in unison with the spectators as the people around her flinched back at the sound of a sharp smack cracking against exposed skin.

  Sam took a deep breath. "Why? Why do you have to deal with this…" Her voice drifted off as the scene continued to unfold.

  Two boys were circling each other. The first, a boy with tight spiral locks of hair, had his hands up, mimicking the old 20th century boxing pros while he danced around the second. Curly-q's shirt was off, his body glistening with just the right amount of sweat to accent an almost perfect physique. The second boy, a chubby kid with massive girth, was sweating gallons as he tried to fend off Curly-q. Fatty's defense was desperate, his footwork slow, and his punches pitiful. This fight was the equivalent of an old fat lamb trying to take on a young over-zealous lion while the rest of the jungle watched the disembowelment.

  The crowd "ooed" and "ahhed" as Curly-q connected a punch to the side of Fatty's face. Fatty crumpled to the ground, spitting blood. Curly-q threw his hands up as the crowd cheered.

  "Don't even think about it, Sam," whispered Cammie in a not so quiet voice. "You'll only embarrass him."

  Sam turned to face Cammie. "But come on Cammie, you saw that punch. He's really going to hurt him this time!"

  "You say that every time Sam, and it never happens. I'm starting to think this is more for show than anything else."

  Just then, Curly-q landed another shot, this time to the body. Fatty went down again. A round of high fives from some of his goony friends ensued as Curly-q danced to the enthusiastic cheers of adoration from the onlookers. Fatty was spitting blood again and was nursing a fat lip. Curly-q knelt down in front of him.

  "Dick, I thought you were taking a mixed martial arts class. Weren't you supposed to be getting better at this? It's getting really old just beating your blubber all the time."

  "We cannot all be as physically gifted as you, Dyson. Though it does make me speculate how your performance may suffer when you have opponents that will actually fight back."

  The crowd started to laugh, but it almost instantly sputtered and coughed into a hushed mumble. Dice Danni Dyson XIII was a high roller, even in the High Tracks crowd. But at just over one and a half meters tall and only 59 kilos, it was hard to be intimidated by him personally. His Ganga bodyguards, on the other hand, were rumored to be byproducts of failed attempts at crossing humans with polar bears.

  The Ganga population became completely loyal to Dyson's father after the business mogul donated crates of the legendary cleaning configurations to the fragmented government of the Burning Plains. Nestled in the heart of the unlivable lands of the South, the Burning Plains were some of the most inhospitable land on good old mother Earth, and the Ganga called it their home. Because of Dice Danni Dyson XII's act of kindness, or perhaps his ploy to cement the Ganga into forced indentured servitude, the Ganga were tied to the Dyson family and probably would be for the foreseeable future.

  Then there was Sam's best friend, Richard. Sweet, good-hearted Richard, who just happened to be the smartest student to ever attend Academy City 676. This was Richard's blessing and curse. While he was one of the smartest people in all of Academy City 676, he wasn't a fighter despite his hulking 2-meter and almost145-kilo frame. No, Richard wasn't a fighter; an eater yes, but not a fighter.

  The Ganga's threatening glares stifled the giggles that snapped and popped behind cupped mouths, but not before Dyson heard them. He gave Richard a swift kick to the gut. Richard groaned in pain.

  "Stop laughing immediately!" Dyson called out to the crowd, his voice going shrill. "Or you will suffer. I will make you all suffer. I'll show you! I'll show all of you!"

  Dyson snapped his fingers. The Ganga snapped to attention. "Get him up. We're done playing around."

  The Ganga followed orders, grabbing ahold of Richard and hoisting him up. Now on his feet, the Ganga threw Richard against one of Camelot's support beams. The gathered crowd started to mutter amongst themselves. Richard closed his eyes as his leg started to shake violently, a habit that Sam knew all too well. Richard was scared. Dyson walked around as if he were about to start a school lecture.

  Sam felt a tingle as Dyson continued to jeer at Richard. A strange sensation traveled up her spine and nuzzled into her brain. "Don't even think about it, Dyson," she blurted out.

  Too late. Dyson's punch was already speeding for the center of Richard's head. Sam took three big steps, her body acting on its own, fully knowing that she wasn't going to make it in time. She could already see the bloody mouth, broken teeth, and broken nose. But would he stop there? No, he wouldn't. Dyson would feel the strength of the position and strike again and again, until…until… Involuntarily she closed her eyes at the last second; she did not want to see it.

  A chorus of laughter followed a thud and yelp of pain. Confused, Sam opened her eyes to see what had happened. Over the din, Sam heard Cammie shout.

  "Dyson, you're such a goof. How did you miss? He was a half-meter in front of you!"

  More laughter sounded, including the Ganga, though they at least attempted to hide it. Dyson was enraged. He held his hand gingerly; it looked broken. He yelled at the Ganga to get Richard, who was already scrambling and tripping over his own feet in desperate flight. Sam looked at Richard's chubby face. The idiot had his eyes closed.

  "Richard you fool, open your eyes!"

  Richard's eyes popped open, his expression wild as he continued to scramble away from the Ganga. He scrambled along the border of the fence, trying to find an opening he could get through. No such luck. He turned and again ran back down the incline to Camelot's base. He hadn't run more than a few meters when--

  Smack!

  Richard hit something hard, something that had not been there earlier. Everyone was holding their hands to their eyes, the glare of sunlight making it difficult to see into the early morning sun. The Ganga's chase had stopped all while Dyson was whimpering and swearing, but in a subdued tone. He was even cowering a bit. What Sam could make out through the glare took her a second to understand.

  "Whoa there, buddy," said a playful voice. "You'd better watch where you're going, or a face plant into a wooden beam could be in your near future."

  Sam shifted her position until she could finally see a tall boy steadying Richard. With shaggy blond hair, clear blue eyes, and perfect bone structure, he stood in front of one of Camelot's structural supports and spoke to Richard in a low voice. Sam whispered his name without realizing it.

  "Coda."

  Cammie, on the other hand, was less than subtle. "Oh Kra-ckle! Coda made an appearance. One more and I'll win Beautiful Boy Bingo. You hear that, Ashley? Put that in your old school bong and smoke it. Boo-ya!!"

  Cammie's comment let the cork out of the rest of the spectators. They started to laugh. Coda was laughing right along with them as he walked towards the gathered crowd.

  "Camille," Coda nodded towards Cammie, "you're always such a treat."

  Cammie shot him a mischievous smile and mouthed, "Call me!" Coda laughed again, but Dyson wasn't going to let it go.

  "This is a private matter, Coda." Apparently Dyson had found his courage, because he was now walking slowly up to the boy. Dyson's play, however, was less than intimidating since Coda towered above him.

  "If it's a private matter, Dice, I suggest you leave the Ganga out of it. I know that I haven't been here long, but I've noticed they have a funny habit of showing up in your 'private' matters. Maybe you should give them a day off and then pick a fight with Richard."

  "Are you saying I can't win against Fatty?" bellowed Dyson, looking around the crowd, his face going a shade of red. "You think that Dick over there could beat me? I've trained since I was five, Coda. I'm the youngest Master in Boran history."

  Coda smiled. "I think that Richard can hold his own. I don't care what sort of rank
you have. I know all about you, Dyson. You've never fought anyone who could or would fight back. You have an awfully high opinion of yourself, and from what I know of Richard here, he isn't one to call you on it. But if you would like to find out, I would be happy to give you a real opponent."

  What Coda said next was too low to hear, but it was short, perhaps a single word. Whatever it was, it shocked Dyson. He took a step back, watching with a calculating look. Then Dyson pulled up his interface and began tapping the screen like mad. After a few seconds, he tore his gaze away from the screen, but this time his expression was very different. His eyes went wide as if he had just witnessed something he didn't like. He seemed almost scared.

  "I suggest you run along, Dyson, before something bad happens." Coda nodded towards one of the Ganga. "Besides, you wouldn't want me to bloody your nose. I know how your mother hates that."

  Sam whistled and shook her head. Coda had just pushed Dyson's biggest button. Anyone that was even remotely wired in Academy City 676 knew that Dice Dyson was the world's biggest momma's boy. It was common knowledge; common knowledge that threw Dyson into a rage whenever someone mentioned it. Coda had obviously known this and was either trying to pick a fight or was dumber than a fence post.

  Dyson's already red face lit up like a carnival balloon and beads of angry sweat began forming on his brow. Sam watched him until she became a bit dizzy, then realized she was holding her breath. She exhaled and turned her attention back to Richard. She found him, and as expected he had his eyes closed. Sam looked back at Coda. He motioned towards the buzzing comm in one of the Ganga's hands.

  "You'd better take that, Dyson," Coda said. "Gives you the opportunity to walk away."

  Dyson hesitated a moment longer, then ripped the comm out of the Ganga's hand.

  "I'll take care of you later, Coda," spat Dyson, touching the side of his ear. He started in the opposite direction. "I'll see you. Though probably sooner than you think."

  Coda smiled. "I look forward to it."

  Dyson retreated and the group dispersed. Sam launched forward, trying to get to Richard. By the time she pushed through, Coda was already there helping him.

  "Richard!" Sam rushed to his side and hugged him.

  "Samantha, delightful to see you," he said, apparently unfazed. "I am sorry that I missed our date this morning."

  Cammie made a rude sound, something that was somewhere between a fart and sarcastic laugh.

  "Yes Camille? Is there something that I can help you with?" asked Richard in a calm, inquisitive voice.

  Cammie glared at him. She hated it when people called her by her real name, Coda, of course, being the exception. He could call her whatever he wanted.

  "I was just taking the time to correct you, Dick. You said date. I just wanted to let you know, only people who are, like, together, go on dates."

  Richard shook his head wearily. "Camille, are you really suggesting that I take vocabulary advice from someone who not only wrote the essay "Why I Love Shopping", but actually spelled "shopping" incorrectly in the process?"

  Laughter erupted from Sam and Coda, the latter actually holding his gut while he chuckled. Cammie glared, which was less than serious; she was trying not to break out in a smile.

  Coda's guffaw subsided just enough to be understood. "Richard, I swear man, you need to become a comedian. Your dry wit is almost too much."

  With giggles barely in the background, Coda, Richard, Cammie and Sam gathered their stuff to leave. They still had a fair distance to walk and class would be starting soon. It wasn't more than a few steps before Richard's burning gaze narrowed in on Sam. A look Sam knew all too well. Richard had questions for her.

  She thought through their homework from the previous night. The chem lab they were supposed to be preparing for, their physics class, and the dramatic monologue for their drama course. Sam filed through each of the subjects one after another, ready for any questions Richard could throw at her. Cammie's inquiry beat him to the punch.

  "It was really lucky that you were passing by, Coda, but how did you know that Dick was in trouble? I thought you weren't connected to the Inter-cloud."

  Coda gave Cammie a jovial smile. "Actually it's funny you ask; it's quite the story. See, I was walking to class this morning –"

  "Samantha?" said Richard, asking the question as if Cammie and Coda weren't there. Sam noted a touch of concern in his voice. "This may not be any of my business, and you know better than anyone that I'm open to all types of styles, but do you really think it wise to attend a learning institution sopping wet?"

  Sam's face flared red as she realized she was still soaking wet in her white shirt! She had been so worried about Richard that she had forgotten her earlier mishap. She cringed in embarrassment. Most of her Section had been at that fight and she had just been standing there letting the group see her practically in her underwear. Richard, seeing her anxiety, removed his jacket and handed it to Sam. Sam smiled warmly at Richard and put it on.

  "And that's when he told me about Richard and Dyson at the base of Camelot, so I rushed over there as fast as I could," Coda finished with another suave smile. Cammie giggled, a reaction that Coda followed. Both were in their own world, oblivious to Sam's problem.

  "I can't believe he actually spoke to you," fawned Cammie. "He's been here for three months and I've only heard him talk once."

  Sam's ears perked up. "Are you two talking about Adam? Was he the one that told you to come and help Richard, Coda?"

  Coda flashed Sam a wicked smile. "Why are you asking Sam? You haven't been taken in by Adam too, have you? Man, I've never seen someone get so many chicks before in my life. Cammie I understand, but you? Cheating on Richard, is that what a good wife would do?"

  "Ha ha ha, Coda. I was just curious."

  "Sam, did you realize that you're totally wet?" Coda searched Sam up and down. "And wearing a lacy cream colored bra that is completely visible to Richard and myself?" Coda's eyes went a little wide. "Wow, Sam, have you offered thanks to the gods recently, because they've certainly blessed you. Man what a rack!"

  Sam spun on her heel, punching Coda on the arm as she continued to walk backwards. She adjusted Richard's jacket to properly cover herself. "Stop looking at my 'rack' Coda. Listen guys, I've got to go back home and change. I'm totally wet and --"

  Sam stopped mid-sentence as she backed into something hard.

  "Whoa there," came a voice that was soft and warm. "Careful now."

  Sam's face lost all its color and her voice seized up. "Ah-a-a-a…hi-hi, Adam."

  Houdini's Failed Escape

  Time: Current Day, lunchtime

  Scene: Academy lunchroom

  "Mackie, your explanation of the attack patterns and weaponry clearly doesn't match the types of wounds inflicted or the residual chemicals and fragments found in the wounds. Not to mention the mapping of the bodies is all wrong."

  What happened to this morning? thought Sam as she weaved through a group of classmates filling the tables in one of the school's many lunchrooms. Was I sleeping through my morning schedule or what?

  It was just that type of morning. After the excitement of Richard's fight, she had run into Adam, made a complete fool of herself babbling like an idiot all while being completely soaked, and since then was having a hard time focusing or thinking straight. It had been like this through History, English, Physics, and now lunch. Well at least she was dry now.

  Sam's thoughts were jumbled as she walked directly into the back of a boy's chair. He ignored her, continuing to tinker with a holographic projection that took up the length of the table.

  "You have the mental capacity of a drug addled Ganga. This is a precise and detailed execution of his attack map and his most likely weapon use. Watch again, but closer this time."

  The boy tapped on the projected keyboard as the group refocused its attention upon the board. The animation was the kind that Graphic Show directors used to model scenes for Vii-movie experiences. What seemed to be
the head boy at the table spoke at length about various things, tapping different buttons on the touch board. Periodic tables, diagrams of different weapons, and long names like Aikido and Ninjutsu rolodexed their way across the length of the board, ending with a smiling face on a black screen. The boy who had been tapping spoke with a conspiratorial tone as the other boys and Sam leaned in.

  "It's him. Watch the reenactment; there's no one else it could be."