“Thank you, Minister.”
• • •
Karza was waiting for Jav outside the ministry, but Jav didn’t stop on his way out, and she had to catch up with him.
“I have to go,” he said.
“Go? Go where, sir?”
“Karza, call me Jav. To Planet 1105 for some. . . training.”
“Training, sir?” Karza looked confused. “When do we leave?”
“You’re staying here, but after making a few calls, I’m leaving immediately.”
“Wait a minute. What’s going on?” she said.
“Relax. I’ll be back in a week. You can take some time off.”
Karza looked at Jav then eyed the case he carried. “What’s in the box?”
Jav smiled. “It’s a secret. It would take too long to explain right now and it’ll be much more interesting if I show you when I get back. Hold on a second.”
Jav stepped into a public communications booth and didn’t resurface until several minutes later.
“I couldn’t get a hold of Ren,” Jav said. “Do me a favor and tell him that I’ll be back next week, will you? It’s too bad I’m going now. He said he’d have some free time this week. Anyway, I’ve cleared your time off with Kalkin so don’t worry about that.”
“I’ll tell Director Fauer, sir,” Karza said.
Jav sighed. “His name is Ren, Karza. My name is Jav.” Smiling he reached up and slapped her big shoulder. “Thanks, Karza.”
She blushed and smiled and resumed some of the softness Jav remembered from when he first met her.
“There’s a jump ship waiting for me at deck 147,” he said. “Walk me there and you’re free to go after that.”
“Sure,” she said, still smiling.
• • •
Jav had tried to make three calls and had gotten through on two of them. One was to Kalkin, confirming his orders and Karza’s time off. The second was to Mao Pardine, Mai’s sister, who was currently training in the Eight Elbows style on Planet 1043. After leaving Planet 1287, Jav had been mostly out of touch with his fellow students. During his five years on 1287 he had come to think of Mao as his little sister. When he heard from Ren that she had left to study with a different teacher, Jav started thinking that he needed to go see her. Now that the Gun Golems were gone and everything was back on schedule he finally could. She would have to wait until his business with Salavar Grummel was concluded, though.
The jump to Planet 1105 took seconds. Jav stepped out of the ship to be welcomed by a pair of stout young men.
“Specialist Holson,” said one. “My name is Vaan. This is Eskel. Welcome to planet 1105. We’re students at the Grummel School and will be seeing to your needs for the duration of your stay here.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” Jav shook hands with them both.
“Please come with us.”
Cradling the long case in one arm, and with a small bundle of clothes slung over the other, Jav followed them down a wide staircase set within the side of what had been the Root Palace when 1105 was new to the Empire. This was his first time—or at least the first time Jav could remember—being on a colony planet. In the pale green sky, two artificial suns lit a fairly impressive city, which he found himself sinking into as he descended the stairs. Surrounding the V of the Vine was an intricate network of narrow, tightly-packed streets, bustling with trade. Jav could see hills rising off to his left with rows and rows of what he assumed were houses. To his right, beyond the urban sprawl, irregularly partitioned fields stretched to the dim horizon, the limit of the artificial suns’ light. Further down the stairs, he could see nothing but the stalls, shops both dirty and clean, that clogged the streets and alleys cutting through the spread of concrete towers. People were everywhere, milling about giving the streets the appearance of a circulatory system under high pressure.
Vaan and Eskel led Jav along a route he may have remembered had he been keeping track, but he was too distracted by the sweep of the city around him. Something about this was familiar, but nothing seemed to jibe with his memory. He had of course seen cities this big and bigger, but they had never been those of the Viscain Empire. They were always native cities and it was usually when he and the rest of the Shades were in the process of destroying them.
The three walked into the shadow of a tall building, the light of one of the suns dazzling Jav just before the roof swallowed it, and for a moment time stopped. The sky was blue, not green, and lazy white clouds, all cotton and whipped cream, drifted at their leisure, playing peek-a-boo with a single, real sun that blazed with primal life. Reflected light glinted off the myriad windows that stretched up towards the sky, flashing like facets on an everyman’s gem. He knew this place, this building, these people who were not Viscain; he knew them all.
“Specialist Holson?” Vaan was saying. “Specialist Holson, are you all right?”
The sounds of the city flooded Jav’s mind and washed away his reverie. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You stopped suddenly, sir.”
“I did?” Jav looked around, dimly aware of a fleeting feeling of déjà vu. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Oh, please, don’t apologize,” Vaan said. “If you would like to stop for a rest. . .”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary. Please, let’s continue.” Jav smiled embarrassedly.
“Is this your first time to 1105, Specialist Holson?” Eskel asked.
“Yes, it is. I haven’t been to many—” the last word caught in his throat. Was the correct word any? “I haven’t been to many colony planets before. It’s quite impressive.”
They proceeded through the city, coming into a kind of suburb that was removed from the high energy and fast pace of the trade district. Here it was quiet and made Jav think of lazy weekends, though why he couldn’t say since he couldn’t remember a single weekend he’d spent idly. They turned a last corner and after several blocks, the street dead-ended into a big concrete façade lined with neat pillars.
“This is the Grummel School,” Vaan said with pride. As they climbed the wide steps, Vaan went ahead then halted their progress. “Please wait here. Our teacher is looking forward to meeting you and wishes to greet you properly.”
Jav nodded and watched Vaan disappear within the front gate. Eskel remained beside him, smiling pleasantly, but saying nothing. After a brief wait, Vaan re-emerged with his teacher and a throng of students who trailed behind.
Salavar Grummel was perhaps sixty. He was dressed in flowing gray pants and a matching short, tight-fitting hide jacket. A rich silk robe embroidered with green intricacies hung from below the jacket and made his legs impossible to distinguish when he moved—this was on purpose, Jav thought, and would make his movements difficult to read in a fight. In his right hand he held a pole sword, the blade of which was polished to a mirror shine. He held out his left hand in a one-handed salute and bowed deeply to Jav.
“Your request and your presence honor us, Specialist Holson. I welcome you to this humble school. All I have is yours,” Grummel said.
Jav bowed in return. “The honor is mine, sir. Thank you for agreeing to see me. I have been anxious to meet you.”
“Please,” Grummel said with a wave of his hand, urging Jav to enter the school.
“Thank you,” Jav said. He stepped through the dividing crowd of hard-faced students as Grummel fell into step beside him.
Immediately through the gate was an open courtyard with weapon racks on all sides. These were filled with all manner of long-handled weapons, but the pole sword dominated. They headed further in towards a pair of chairs situated before an inner building.
“Please, sit down.” Grummel gestured towards one of the chairs and they both sat.
From the building behind them, a number of students emerged, bearing trays laden with local treats. One student brought a decanter and glasses.
“Mr. Holson, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to have you here. How about a little demonst
ration while we eat?”
“That would be great,” Jav said.
“Excellent.” Grummel clapped his hands and his students, standing in perfect ranks before them, scattered leaving only two who bowed to their teacher and guest then to each other. Each selected a pole sword from opposite racks. They approached each other, stopped, bowed again, and began.
They were very good. Their movements were clean and fast, but it was obvious that this was a two-man form, which the students had practiced to perfection.
Grummel eyed Jav keenly. “What do you think, Mr. Holson?”
“They’re very good. . .”
“But?”
Jav shook his head and laughed nervously. “Nothing.”
“Please don’t hesitate, Mr. Holson,” Grummel said, smiling enigmatically.
“They’re very good at this form,” Jav said.
“Which is to say what, Mr. Holson?”
Jav was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He started to speak, took a deep breath instead, then started again. “I was simply wondering how they might do in free sparring, which is often a better test of real skill than rote two man exercises.”
Grummel put his finger to his chin and nodded. “Mr. Holson, how did you go about choosing me for this project of yours? Surely it wasn’t by Jaim’s example. I should be terribly embarrassed and put off if you say so.”
Jav met Grummel’s stare. “Maybe it was to impress me or the audience, I don’t really know, but before we fought, Jaim demonstrated some of your style’s techniques. It certainly didn’t show in his application, but in those first movements, I thought I was watching something that wasn’t his.”
“Indeed,” Grummel said, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m a little ashamed to say that half of my interest was in the weapon itself. I had never seen a pole sword before, but could readily see some of its advantages,” Jav said.
“And?”
“And when Minister Witchlan approached me regarding this project, it was the pole sword that first came to mind.”
“And that’s it?”
Jav cocked his head, “No, no that’s not it. I had already heard from sources I trusted that your reputation was unassailable—no matter what Jaim’s performance might have suggested—and that your skill with the pole sword was spectacular, even the envy of some Shades. I asked around some more and got more of the same.”
“And so with the word of so many to support what you already believed, here you are.”
Jav smiled and laughed in spite of himself. “And so, with the word of so many to support what I already believed, I spent hours in the library going over all the available footage of your competition fights and personal demonstrations. Not firsthand observation, but under the circumstances facing the Empire recently, all that was possible until now.”
“Ah! That’s what I wanted to hear! And not for something so base as self-aggrandizement, I assure you.” He looked at Jav appraisingly. “Do you know why I have never participated in an Artifact Competition? Even at my age, I could have represented this school. Or why I have turned down the periodic invitations to the Root Palace?”
Jav looked at him with anticipation. “No, sir, I don’t.”
“It’s because I’m not interested in anything except my art. Everything else is meaningless. To receive an Artifact is to accept influence over my muscles, nerves, and reflexes, and then it would be the Artifact, in part, large or small, wielding the pole sword and not me.” Grummel shook his head. “Some have argued that it’s wasteful for me to not use my skill directly in the service of the Empire, but to my mind teaching is of direct service to the Empire. I expect nothing but perfection from my hands, my body, my mind. If they were not perfect then I could not teach this art that I love. Let my students, if they are able to, achieve fame and fortune through my art.
“You and I are different, Mr. Holson. I have seen your fights as well. And I have spoken with your teacher, Laedra Hol. There is no doubt that you have mastery over the Eighteen Heavenly Claws, but beyond that you appear to possess a certain genius in applying it. I am a technician. I have no ability outside the Secret Track style, but I believe in the universality of my style and that it can compensate for any lack of imagination on my part. I believe that this sort of skill is ideally suited for what you propose. And it appeals to my vanity.
“I am a pragmatist, a utilitarian, but am not without a degree of professional pride. How could I possibly accept a request such as yours from anyone who has not done sufficient research?”
“Yes, of course.” Jav’s eyes were wide and he nodded. In these brief initial minutues, he knew that he liked Salavar Grummel, that he understood him perfectly and respected him.
“Now,” Grummel said, “how about a real demonstration?” He stood and extended his hand to Jav. “Fight with me, Mr. Holson.”
Jav stood and shook Grummel’s hand. “I would be honored to.”
10,688.161.1600
The next day was spent concluding the business for which Jav had come. From the long black case he had brought with him, Jav produced a special pole sword, manufactured by Gilf Scanlan, and which Grummel now used to perform all the sets in the Secret Track system.
When finished, Grummel proceeded to teach Jav a few of the basics of the style.
“I know that your time here is limited,” Grummel said, “and that you will most likely be able to learn and practice my style now whenever the mood strikes you, but I wanted the chance to teach you personally, even if only able to impart the smallest bit of knowledge or technique.”
Jav thanked him humbly, genuinely pleased to have been able to learn from him and that Grummel would share his precious art. Jav understood Grummel’s pure devotion to his art for the art’s sake. Ultimately they wanted different things, but Grummel’s devotion reminded Jav of his training back on 1287, of training with Mai and trying to make her understand his own motivation to excel.
He liked Grummel more and more. At first he had reminded Jav of Kimbal Furst, and while that impression still lingered in the two short days they had spent together Grummel also came to represent to Jav a sort of fatherly ideal. In his way, Cov Merasec had also been like a father, but Jav found with Grummel a confluence of ideas, an acceptance and appreciation for what he could do, rather than condemnation for what he could not. Jav wasn’t about to malign Merasec’s ability as a teacher, but there was a fundamental difference between Merasec and Grummel: Merasec seemed to teach to see his abilities spread for the sake of gratifying his ego; Grummel, however, had no ego when teaching and taught to preserve his art and see it outlast him. Grummel felt the weight of his lineage more than anyone Jav had ever encountered. Jav realized that coming here had provided Grummel with a unique opportunity to accomplish his goal. Grummel would always have students, but he would die eventually, and to make a potentially permanent, unchanging record of his perfected skill had pleased him beyond measure.
The day wore on and the time for Jav’s departure drew near. To express his sincere appreciation, Grummel presented Jav with a parcel of gifts. Folded neatly atop the parcel was a heavy black garment, which Grummel himself took and shook open.
“Beyond this city to the west are the hide farms,” Grummel said. “This planet is famous for its leather. Did you know that?”
Jav shook his head.
“I hope you don’t mind my presumption,” Grummel said, showing Jav the black jacket.
It was the same as Grummel’s except for the color: heavy black leather, waist-length, with a short stand-up collar, and a thick steel zipper that fastened it close. Jav set the parcel down and tried the jacket on. It was a perfect fit. Jav didn’t know what to say. He thanked Grummel over and over again and vowed to return when he was able. They said goodbye and Vaan and Eskel led Jav, with his long black case and his haul of gifts, back to the Vine where the jump ship awaited him.
• • •
1043 was, like 1105, a colony planet, but not as well po
pulated. The orange sky, despite the hour and the full power of an artificial sun, gave the impression of permanent sunset and made Jav think of 1287. He wondered if the sky appealed to Mao or bothered her. For him it was merely nostalgic, though in reality, only a short interval separated him from 1287.
There were settlements surrounding the Vine, but they were few and spread out. On this planet, too, were hide farms as well as grain and some limited vegetable farms. This planet was actually one of the twelve main sources of grain for the Empire, but the singularly rustic atmosphere made any such significance seem far away and unreal. Jav watched the farms roll by below as the jump ship breezed soundlessly over them. They were like seas of gold, shining with a satiny luster, hemmed in by low meaningless fences.
Upon a hill around which an artificial waterway looped back towards the settlements closer to the Vine, sat the school, an ornate tower of dark red granite and bronze. Jav was surprised by its appearance and wondered how the students trained there. It didn’t look like there were any training facilities outside the tower.
The jump ship landed next to the school, and Jav, thanking the pilot, exited. As he walked up the path to the main entrance, the double doors at the top of the steps opened, revealing two figures. One, a tall, lanky man with a shiny bald head was unfamiliar. The other, painfully resembling her dead sister more than he remembered, was Mao Pardine.
Upon seeing his face, she cried out his name and ran towards him, flinging herself into his arms. He held her close, her very touch forcing tears from his eyes. For months now he had felt that he had failed her, had even betrayed her by failing to protect Mai, but now that heaviness was gone, released in a rush by the pressure of her embrace.
Still holding onto him, she pulled away to study his face, beaming. “I missed you, Jav!”
“I missed you, too, Mouse.” Without thinking, Jav had called her by the pet name Mai had always used.
Tears welled in her eyes and she buried her face in his chest.
The Gun Golems (Approaching Infinity Book 2) Page 14