by Mel Odom
They had to at least keep pace with him when they ran, and he varied his speed so they couldn’t lock into a solid effort. He knew what he was doing, and he knew what he could do.
After the second day of keeping up with three sessions of PT and drills, they not only hated him, but they were in awe of him as well. Whispers started to circulate that he was strapped with bionics and enhancements. Captain Gilbride, as medical officer, put them straight on that: Sage was not augmented in any way. He was as organic as they came. The captain still wasn’t a fan of Sage’s, but he was fair.
Starting on the first day, Sergeant Kiwanuka joined him, restructuring her day so that she was with him for all three drill periods. Sage hadn’t been too surprised about that. Even though he and Kiwanuka got along, she would want to get the measure of him. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Knowing how far he would go, how much he would push, how hard he would come down on soldiers who didn’t come up to the bar he set—all of those were important factors for her to learn.
What did surprise him was Lieutenant Murad’s attendance during the 0500 drills. Murad had been somewhat out of shape and was paying for it, but he kept up with the middle of the group.
During water break, Sage had looked at the lieutenant, wondering what had brought him out to the drills.
Bathed in sweat, obviously hurting, Murad returned Sage’s gaze and spoke softly. “I am not an idiot, Top. We go out there in the brush the way we are, hunting those labs, if I am out of shape and not sharp, I am a dead man.”
Sage nodded. “Yes sir, you are. Glad to have you here, sir.”
“I am far from happy about this myself, but I will be here every day.”
“Yes sir.”
Murad walked away, limping a little.
Kiwanuka joined Sage. “That’s an interesting development.”
“Not so interesting,” Sage said. “He wants to stay alive. Why are you here?”
She grinned at him. “To watch your back, Top. You keep pushing these grunts like that, one of them is going to try to kill you.”
Sage grinned back. “They might at that. Until then, they’re going to learn to be better soldiers.”
1604 Hours
A short distance from the fence that separated the fort’s training grounds from the sprawl, Jahup sat on a roof in the shadows of the trees and the taller building behind him. A group of people gathered there to avoid the heat and watch what Master Sergeant Frank Sage was having the Terran military soldiers do.
Soldiers along the fort’s perimeter manned gun towers and nonmilitary personnel weren’t allowed within the double-deep fence.
Over the last few weeks, the training area had been reshaped as the sergeant had added more equipment. Soldiers clambered over walls, crawled under barbed wire, slid through mud, ran innumerable kilometers on the track inside the training area, and battled each other on combat arenas.
“I thought I would find you here.” Noojin looked up at him from the ground. She was clad in hunting armor and carried a spider-silk bag in one hand.
Today was a day of rest from the hunt. Tomorrow they would be back out in the jungle again.
“I didn’t know you were looking for me,” Jahup said. Their relationship had seemed to mend, but he was still cognizant of the split that had occurred and didn’t completely trust that it wouldn’t happen again.
Noojin held up the bag. “Have you had lunch?”
“It is well after lunch.”
She lowered the bag. “In that case, I can eat it by myself.”
“I haven’t eaten,” Jahup admitted. He’d been busy cleaning gear, then, knowing the Terrans were going to be training at this time of the day, he’d come to watch. Over the years of hunting, he had learned many things by observing the insects and lizards they took as game, and the Terrans weren’t any different. Jahup was learning things from them as well.
“Then it’s a good thing I brought enough for both of us. Come down and I’ll share with you.”
“I want to watch the Terrans.”
Noojin glared at the training field. “Watch them do what? Run and sweat and hit each other?”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“That’s all I see.”
“Then you’re not looking,” Jahup chastised. “Come up. Please. I wish to see this.”
With a slight pout, Noojin offered her empty hand.
Jahup leaned down, offered her his bow to grab hold of, then hauled her up and caught her hand to pull her up to the low roof. He scooted over to make room for her.
She remained silent as she reached into the bag and took out the food she had prepared. The breaded croeb legs and foech pudding were his favorites. She’d also assembled two small corok melons and a handful of keval berries. She shared out the food, placing it on two lekeher leaves that spread across his lap.
Jahup watched the soldiers train, but mostly he watched Sage.
“Why are you watching the sergeant so much?” Noojin asked.
“Because I can learn from him.”
“Learn what? How to kill people? How to challenge others until they strike back and try to kill you?”
“No.” Jahup forced himself to remain patient. He was learning that from Sage as well, but he wasn’t going to tell Noojin that. “I am learning how to train people.”
“You already know how to train people.” Noojin shrugged. “You trained me for the hunt.”
That was true. Jahup had been accepted to Chaiq’s hunting band a full year before anyone had spoken for Noojin. She’d had to serve in the kitchens till her Calling was finally accepted. By that time, Jahup had become a trainer, excelling over many of those who ran in Chaiqu’s band. Within three years, only a few seasons ago, Jahup had been split off with his own band. Noojin had come with him.
“I trained you, yes. But training is an ongoing thing. It is as alive as those jungles where we hunt.”
“We hunt prey the same way we always have.”
“But there is new prey. Makaum stirs the pot out there, cooks up new things to throw at us. Remember the ashgh?”
The ashgh was a particularly lethal water beetle that had either come from deep within the jungle or had manifested from a previous insect. Two meters long, a meter wide, and a meter tall, the ashgh preyed on fish and lizards five and six times its own size.
“We lost three hunters, experienced people, to those things before we figured out how to kill them,” Jahup continued. “And it was a long time before we learned it was the male ashghs that carried the eggs on their backs.”
The eggs were delicacies among some of the Makaum, provided they were harvested early enough that the embryos were barely begun. They looked like fat globules attached to the dark umber carapaces of the ashghs.
“You’ve listened to the stories in the Tale Circle,” Jahup went on. “If there is one constant about Makaum it is that things will change.”
Irritably, Noojin crossed her legs and munched on a croeb leg. The fried skin and breading cracked as she bit into it to get at the white meat. The skin was edible but tough, but if it was removed the meat simply burned rather than cooked.
“So you are watching the sergeant to learn how to fight the Terrans when the time comes?” Noojin asked. Her tone suggested that she doubted that was the real intention, and he knew part of her was looking for a fight.
“If it comes to that, yes. But in the meantime, I want to learn.”
“What is it that you learn?”
“This sergeant is not like the others that I have watched.” Jahup had been observing the Terran Army since they had arrived. He had a sharp interest in their weapons and wanted to know more about how to use them as he got his hands on them, and he intended to get his hands on them. Opportunities for raiding came up in the jungles, and sometimes they took gear from the labs they destroyed. “He is stern and enforces discipline, but he helps those soldiers who are actually trying to learn from him. The other leaders yelled at them an
d punished them. In the end, the commanders ignored the soldiers who would not learn, and all those soldiers wanted in the first place was to be left alone.”
“You punish someone in training so they know how to do something.”
Jahup looked at her. “Did I ever punish you when you did not learn something fast enough?”
“No,” she admitted reluctantly.
“Chaiq never punished me either.” Jahup had liked his old mentor and had adopted many of the woman’s ways when training his own band. “I thought the constant practice was punishment, but I learned that was wrong. Constant practice, like the sergeant has these soldiers doing, is what saves your life while on a hunt.”
“They are not on a hunt.”
“He has taken down five drug labs in the last eight weeks with his team.”
“Then he should be training with those soldiers.”
“He is.” Jahup pointed to the training grounds with his chin. “They are out there. All of them. When they are not serving other posts and duties, they watch over him. They know he is in danger from the corps and the black marketers.”
“Why have those people not tried to kill him again?”
“Because he is protected, and because if a second attempt is made on his life, the Terran Army and the Alliance will take more direct action against the corps and the black market.”
“You figured this out by yourself?” Noojin looked doubtful.
Jahup grinned slightly and shook his head. “No. I was wondering why they were not trying to kill him now as well.” Secretly, he had been fearing for the sergeant, which was why he always brought his rifle with him when he came to observe the training. “My grandmother said she and the other Quass have made it known to the corps, the Phrenorians, and the (ta)Klar that they would also look upon another such action against the sergeant in the sprawl with disfavor.”
“Why? Are the Quass now choosing a side?”
“No, but as they have pointed out in the meetings with those people, the inability to keep the peace inside the sprawl reflects on all of them. If the sprawl is not safe for its citizens, none of them have promises she or the Quass want to listen to.”
Noojin popped a keval berry in her mouth and chewed. “That is true, I suppose. Still, the Quass might only be able to prevent the sergeant from being attacked in the sprawl, but out in the jungle it will be a different matter.”
“I know.”
“Also, Ekalu and his band were nearly killed by black market sec last night. Evidently they got too close to one of the hidden lab locations and alerted the sec systems. Reyst was wounded and will not be able to hunt till she heals.”
“I had heard,” Jahup said. “We will have to be more careful. Those people working the labs have become more wary of anyone they meet out there in the jungles.”
“The paranoia of the lab teams is a result of the sergeant’s efforts.”
“No. The paranoia they feel is the result of the drugs they consume.” Jahup thought again of Gogh and how he had gotten himself killed so foolishly. “If the drugs are not stopped, Noojin, they may be the death of us all. You have seen how our people die with that poison in their veins. That is why we destroy the labs when we can.” He rubbed his chin as he watched Sage step onto one of the combat arenas.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Training Area
Charlie Company
Fort York
1621 Zulu Time
Stripped to the waist, wearing only his ACU pants and sparring boots, Sage stepped through the ring cables and onto the four meter by four meter combat mat. A thin layer of insulation foam softened some of the falls, but impacts against it still left a person bruised and badly shaken. Sage knew that for a fact because he’d gotten slammed against them for years in training.
Despite Sage’s standing orders that soldiers weren’t to break training on the different stations during the exercise period, the troops came over to watch the coming bout. Sage decided not to push the issue and concentrated on one thing at a time. If this many people were interested in the outcome of the match, he assumed the soldier who had agreed to get onto the combat mat with him was a ringer. After the first couple of days of “sparring,” no one had bothered to challenge him.
“I want you to know, I still object to this.” Kiwanuka stood outside the ring and held the sparring gloves as Sage pushed his hands into them.
“Why? You get into the ring and spar.”
“That’s training.”
“This is training,” Sage protested.
“No, too much of this is your ego. You can call it training all you want to, but I see the competition in you every time you take on one of these soldiers.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a competitive edge. That’s part of what makes a good soldier and a good leader.”
“If you lose, you’re going to lose more than a fight. These soldiers will start a passive rebellion.”
“Then I’m not going to lose.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“If they beat me in this ring, any of them,” Sage replied, “then I’m not fit to lead them.”
“A leader isn’t just a physical entity. You can train them to think like soldiers.”
Sage looked out over the expectant crowd. “Later. I can do that later. Right now all I’ve got to get their attention is this. I run with them, I eat with them. I don’t ask them to do anything I won’t do. Including stepping into this ring.” He drank a mouthful of water, swished it around his teeth, then spat it out on the ground. “Besides, I need practice too.”
“You could train with me.”
“Is that an offer, Sergeant?” Sage smiled.
Kiwanuka shoved his mouthpiece between his teeth. “No. There are others you could train with. People on our team. People that wouldn’t see you as a target.”
“I don’t think you’d hold back. I’ve got the definite feeling I’d be a target there too.”
A hint of a smile showed on her lips. “No, I wouldn’t hold back. Not for a minute. But I’d stop when I had you beaten. I wouldn’t cripple you the way some of these people want to.” Kiwanuka nodded to the other side of the ring. “Most of the grunts in Charlie Company have put up a bounty on you, bribing the fighters among them to come forward and take a shot at you. Corporal Lai Pai-shih decided to go for it today. He’s not like the other tough guys—and women—who have stepped up to take you on.”
Since the first couple days of training, when the would-be contenders went down in quick succession, there had been no takers on Sage’s offer to “practice” with any soldier who wanted one-on-one combat training with him. During those early fights, when the men and the women wanted to challenge him, Sage hadn’t held back, ending the combat quickly and decisively, never carrying the weaker opponents. The faster an opponent learned he or she was up against someone with a superior skill set, the faster that opponent learned that continuing the fight and potentially getting badly hurt was not a good idea. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt over a pride issue.
On the other side of the combat mat, Lai Pai-shih was a monster of a man. Lai was young, maybe mid-twenties, and rippled with muscle. His hair was shaved to the scalp and his eyes were dead black marbles. He wore an assortment of scars from laser burns and knives. Since cosmetic surgery to get rid of those was part of the military package, he must have chosen to wear those scars.
Sage rolled his head, stretching his neck, and regarded his opponent. “Is Lai any good?”
“I’ve never seen him fight, but he’s been involved in some bar brawls against superior numbers and managed to walk away under his own power.”
“If you deal with amateurs, that’s not so impressive.”
“He was up against Green Dragon bashhounds. They’re supposed to be some of the best.”
“They are some of the best.” Sage took a closer look at the soldier and re-evaluated his take on the man. “I’ve fought a few of them myself.”
; “There’s something else I’ve heard but haven’t verified. Corporal Lai is supposed to be some kind of martial arts champion on Terra. He comes from old-school Hong Kong, where they still have bounty fights.”
“I’ve fought a few of those guys too.” Sage took a breath in through his nose and blew it out his mouth. “Let’s see what the corporal has.” He walked toward the center of the combat ring and Lai came off the ropes. Adrenaline surged in Sage and he knew that Kiwanuka was right. Fighting in the ring was not just about proving a point to the soldiers. It was also about winning. “Corporal Lai.”
“Top.” Lai nodded in an abbreviated bow, eyes constantly on Sage. “I need to know something before we start.”
“Sure.”
“When I knock you out, maybe break a few bones, how much time am I going to have to spend in the brig?” Lai grinned coldly, like he’d already won the fight.
Sage grinned. “None. I told all of you at the—”
Lai was faster than he looked and he looked fast. Sage guessed the guy had been training under heavy-grav to pick up that extra edge before the fight. There was only a flicker of warning, the slightest shift of weight, then the corporal’s right hand whipped toward Sage’s gut and connected like a hydraulic ram. The power behind the blow was enough to make Sage question whether Lai was augmented and Kiwanuka hadn’t known after all.
Staggered by the punch, lungs empty of air, Sage only managed to turn his head slightly as the follow-up left to his face rocketed on a collision course. Lai’s fist connected with Sage’s right temple and left his senses spinning. Knocked off his feet, Sage hit the mat on his back and the soldiers gathered around the arena went wild with exultation.
“Get him, Lai!”
“Mess him up!”
Giving no quarter, Lai lunged in and brought up his right leg, then drove his heel down where Sage’s head would have been had he not rolled to the side. Even then, Sage retreated on his hands and knees till he got to his feet. Still dazed, he only put up a weak block against Lai’s roundhouse kick and found himself knocked over again.