by Raylan Kane
“She is on the bus behind us.”
“Wait. She is on this journey with us?” I said.
“Of course. She is one of our best recruits.”
“You are hardly the first to show interest,” Ri says. “Unfortunate for you she is with another. A powerful recruit. He wouldn’t let you within ten feet of her.”
“What is his name?” I said.
“Rygart,” she said. “He is one of the best in our region.”
“Maybe not so powerful now, given what happened to he and the others last month,” Byers said.
“Nonsense, I hear they have recovered in full.”
“What happened?” I said.
“Rygart and three others – not the nicest of people – by the way,” Warell said. “If you believe the rumors they were beaten to the ground – gravely injured.”
“I don’t believe it,” Ri said.
“No? I do hear those men are quite formidable,” I said.
“Quite,” she said.
“Were formidable, I suppose you could say,” Byers said.
“Not to their faces I wouldn’t,” Warell said.
“Whoever that person is – that local, if he exists – I wouldn’t want to run afoul of him,” Byers said.
“No,” I said. “I suppose not.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
My bus pulls into a grand red brick courtyard fronting a large stone building. The bus parks and we are ushered off and told to form ranks. 240 Jye Region Low Command recruits form one long maroon rectangle with me, the pale blue dot, on one end; I cannot see Milne, Rygart or his cronies.
We stand silent under the late afternoon sun. The smell of saltwater carries on the breeze. Our leaders, dressed in gray uniforms stand in a line of four, facing us, not saying a word. The recruits stand four to a row across 60 rows. I am at the back of an end row, my seat partner, Ri stands ahead of me. Byers is to my left and Warell stands ahead of him. We form the back corner closest to the long stone building.
“What are we waiting for?” I said in a whisper to Ri standing ahead of me.
“The other regions; it appears we are the first to arrive,” she said.
“High Command is sending a class too,” Byers said.
“Bite your tongue,” Ri said.
“It is true,” Warell said in a whisper. “There is rumor of a huge special project being developed. High Command is using this year’s Grim as a proving ground. The top finishers will be selected.”
“Curses,” Ri said.
“Who cares about High Command recruits?” I said. Byers and Warell stifle a laugh. Ri looks at me with disgust.
“We stand no chance against them. They are the rare ones deemed fit to move up to High Command straight away,” Ri said.
“They use the Grim as practice every six months,” Byers said. “You’ll be lucky to stay within ten feet of them on the course.”
“What is the course?” I said, drawing shocked faces with wide eyes.
“Were you not given the preparatory material?” Byers said.
“I’ve only learned of this thing as of last night.”
“Curses,” Ri said. “Whatever you’ve done, it must be serious.”
“Clearly someone at the top has a strong dislike for you,” Warell said.
Four buses pull through between the marble pillars at the entry. The buses round the courtyard past us and park. Dozens of recruits in deep blue form a long rectangle like ours. One end of their ranks stands a mere 20 feet from me.
More buses soon follow. The courtyard’s semi-circle edge swells with recruits of all colors representing the 8 regions where the Low Command is headquartered. I hear a few gasps as buses, black as Full Dark, pull in and park. The buses that carried all of the regional recruits round the courtyard and exit. High Command recruits dressed all in black jog from their buses and fill three rectangular formations with precision. The black buses leave the courtyard; the High Command recruits stand in the center of the courtyard. Four High Command leaders dressed in white stand at the head of the courtyard barking commands.
Even where I stand I can feel the force of the High Command recruits’ collective voices answering back to their leaders, counting off, and other inaudible grunts. One man stands still and silent apart from any group. He stands facing the High Command recruits as they sound off. He wears a bright red uniform, the only uniform of its kind on this courtyard; his face looks to be carved from granite from this distance. Looking at him and looking at these fit and organized High Command recruits, I feel a wave of nervous energy flow throughout my body; something I’ve never felt before.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“Jye Region recruits,” one of our leaders in gray says, shouting over the crowd, “report to B Block for rack assignments and to pick up your kits. Move.”
The courtyard is an anarchy of swirling colors as all the regional recruits enter the giant stone building. I look back and see the High Command recruits are not moving.
“They make camp outside of town,” Ri said. “Even staying in barracks is too elementary for them. We stand no chance.”
I keep my head down as our maroon group walks to the big doors ahead. Staying unnoticed by a certain group of recruits might prove impossible even in proper uniform; in this prison jumpsuit I may as well walk around with a target on my back. Still, there are 240 of us from Jye, not an insignificant-
“Is this a trick?”
Great.
“Hello to you as well – it’s Milne, right?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you too.”
“You did not answer my question. Did you sneak your way here?”
“No. I’m here for The Grim.”
“But you’re not a recruit. You’re a criminal.”
We are not even in through the doors yet and Rygart and his three friends have found me.
“Curses. What is this one doing here?” Rygart says in a loud voice to anyone that will listen. “Milne, why are you speaking with him?”
“She can speak with whoever she likes,” I said.
“Why are they allowing a common thief like you take part in something as important as The Grim?” Milne said.
“Perhaps I’m not so common. Do you always make such quick judgments?”
“Come on, Milne. Let’s go,” Rygart said. He and his friends look at me like I am diseased.
“Milne doesn’t have to go with you. She is her own person. We were having our own conversation until you came along.”
“There was no conversation,” Milne said.
“You stay the curses away from us,” Rygart said. “I will not think twice to report you to leadership if you so much as look in my direction.”
“You can thank your precious leadership for bringing me here.”
“You expect me to believe such a lie? You probably stowed away in the luggage compartment, you fool.”
“Would I not have been arrested by now?”
“Who knows what you might have said to leadership? You’re a known liar – with a clear death wish.”
“No more so than you.”
"You full-blooded dimwit – you may have bested me once in a street fight with your trickery.”
“Once,” I cannot help but smirk.
“You think you have a chance in The Grim?”
“A better one than you or your friends.”
“A laughable notion to the extreme. You stand no chance. You are a dead man walking.”
“I would be more careful with my words – perhaps you relished the comforts of your hospital bed?”
“You just watch your back, fool. There are more ways to die around here than just The Grim,” Rygart said.
“Idle threats,” I said.
“You won’t always have the upper hand, thief. Your sleight of hand only works once. When you are less than ready – at a time you least expect - fate will
rise up to bite you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The grand stone archway at the building’s entrance leads to an even grander foyer with a high ceiling and eight stairways; each corner of the room features a curved staircase ascending to a set of wooden double-doors beside a stairway that descends from view. Our leaders point us to the ascending stairway at the back right corner.
Through the wooden doors, B Block consists of the longest room I have ever seen; an endless corridor with beds lining the narrow walkway on both sides. Between each bed is a countertop with two rows of drawers beneath bookended by two small closets. Above every countertop massive windows throw hazy squares of light to the floor. To my immediate right inside the double-doors is a huge washroom with rows of sinks and mirrors, 12 tiled communal showers, and dozens of toilet stalls.
Walking between the beds I see the windows on the right provide a view to a narrow courtyard and into the windows of D Block on the other side; the windows on the left show off clipped fields of green grass backed by leafy forest on the horizon.
Each bed features a nameplate above – it appears the assignments are alphabetical. Here’s hoping Rygart’s last name does not start with ‘H’. How nice for the ‘A’ recruits to sleep so close to the washroom – they will have the luxury of showering first. The beds are small, the mattress thin with one flat pillow and a sheet and blanket for comfort; at the end of the bed a folded maroon uniform lays along with civilian pants, shirt and hiking shoes. A small pouch contains razors and soap.
“Recruits. You have your rack, you have your kit. Dinner’s in 20 minutes in the Mess,” one of our leaders said.
I sit on my bed facing the front entrance – I see Milne arranging her closet five beds up on the opposite side. I should not look for too long lest she catches me staring. The giant room is alive with chatter and laughter. A man with blue skin approaches in front of me.
“Trident!”
“We meet again.”
“What are you doing here?”
“That seems to be a frequent question amongst this lot. I was ordered to come.”
“Why?”
“Seems someone in the High Command thinks highly of you; I suppose they thought you needed at least one friend here.”
“But The Grim – what if you fail?”
“That’s a vote of confidence.”
“Sorry – but you yourself have noted your lack of courage.”
“Indeed.”
“So?”
“So, I’m told if I finish in the top three me and my family will be free.”
“Wait - you told me if I win you, your family, and my family would be free; that’s changed?”
“So it seems. I am told not only must you win The Grim, you must help me finish second or third.”
“I don’t know my chances against competition such as we’re about to face – getting us both through to the finish ahead of more than one thousand elite recruits? They ask the impossible.”
“Well then, we’d better get to work,” Trident said with a smile, “you only have three days to teach me everything you know.”
CHAPTER FORTY
The morning sun’s intensity in Thiel Region dwarfs that of Gust. I thought I knew what heat was. This will be prime for Trident’s first day of training. The best thing I can do for him from what I know of The Grim thus far (waves, cliffs) is to better his endurance. I’ve found a tall grassy hill at the far end of the property behind the great stone building; it is tall enough to make for challenging hill sprints.
“How many more?” Trident said. His blue skin glistens with sweat; his chest is heaving.
“We’re not done yet,” I said. “Take a couple of minutes before your next set.”
My maroon Gust Region shirt is soaked with sweat; I take it off as a cool breeze blows across the field. Recruits from the other regions are spread out in small clusters around the vast area of mowed grass – each doing their own exercises, running, jumping, wrestling – no idea what use there may be for wrestling in The Grim. A small group of misses perform stretching exercises close to where we are, a few are quite pretty, I cannot help but notice some of them noticing me.
“This is torture,” Trident said. "How much of this training are we going to have to do? I'm ready for my deathbed."
He motions toward the lovely group of recruits and smiles. “You’ve managed to catch some attention. Is that the real reason you've removed your shirt?”
“Don’t talk. Let’s go – next set,” I said. I tilt into the hill and pump my quads as hard as I can until I reach three-quarters of the way up, then I turn and relax my body as I jog back down. Trident struggles to reach the point where I stop.
“Come on, come on – do it – you’re almost there.”
Trident pushes – his body has a scarce amount of forward momentum as he reaches three-quarters of the way up. His face contorts with pain as he turns and trots back down. “Tell me we’re not doing this tomorrow.”
“No, we’ll do something else. Your legs will be sore for a couple of days and should be ready for The Grim the day after.”
“Should be?” Trident said. I hand him a water bottle and a towel.
“You know, given how much you sweat, you ought to consider shaving your head – might cool you off some.”
“Clever. Yes, why not remove all doubt as to whether or not I am truly a clone.”
“At least you know math.”
“True.”
“Who is this coming? My word – she is gorgeous,” Trident said.
Milne walks toward us from across the field in her athletic wear. She passes the group of misses, a few of them throw a sideways glance of pure jealousy in her direction. The two of us stand there looking at her as she walks by us; her eyes keep contact with mine as she sits on the side of the hill and opens her reading device. I break from the eye contact first.
“Another set, let’s go.”
“Are you foolish?” Trident said.
“I mean it, go, go!”
Trident huffs and puffs and takes off up the hill pushing for all he’s worth. I saunter near where Milne sits.
“Many are exercising today and yet you read? Is that wise?”
“I prefer to save my strength.”
“Oh, so she does speak with me after all.”
“When was I not speaking with you?”
“Why have you chosen this place of all places to sit?”
“Would you prefer I move?”
“Your prerogative.”
“Have I done something to offend you?”
“Is this trickery? Do you forget all of the ‘thief and liar’ talk?” I said.
“You are not any of those things?”
“And yet you choose to sit so near.”
“There’s a shortage of hills in this area.”
“Of course.” Trident finishes his last sprint and walks over.
“All done master.”
I look at Milne. “Lucky for you we have no more use for this hill. Enjoy it. Let’s get some food, Trident.”
The two of us turn away from Milne and walk back toward the stone building. Trident turns and looks back at Milne.
“She is staring a hole through you right now.”
“Good.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Every other step lands in unison; Trident takes longer strides which fouls up the cadence as we run. Today I thought a nice change of pace would be to run off campus, away from the other recruits, up the road toward the Cliffs of Ro.
“How much longer?” Trident said.
“Almost to the entry road.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I spotted it from the bus on the way in.”
“I would rather do hill sprints than run this far.”
“That hill cooked in the sun. At least here we get the breeze off the Thiel.”
“Breeze? I feel nothing but the
sun’s heat.”
“Hush.”
A dirt road splits off the pavement to the left. White and gray jagged cliffs loom large above us.
“They expect us to climb that?” Trident said.
“Worse – the area we’re to climb is down this road a ways.”
“Higher than these cliffs?”
“So I am told.”
The road tilts downhill. More cliffs lay ahead of us on the right. Beautiful green pasture is on our left.
“This is better. Running downhill is much better.”
“Remember we have to run back up this on the way back.”
“You’re not always the most fun person to have around, are you?”
The road draws us closer to the base of the cliffs. The land levels and we continue around a bend to the right. The sun still hits us, but the air is cooler here. The road straightens for a bit then bends left. The green pasture beside us gives way to a clear blue lake.
“This area is stunning.”
“Agreed.”
Soon higher cliffs come into view. The highest rocks I have ever seen. A narrow waterfall cascades from behind a cloud and touches the lake below like a white silk ribbon. The road curves right and the clouds roll away to reveal four jagged knuckles of rock just right of the falls. The knuckles at the top extend to the ground in the form of great granite ridges.
“We are to climb those?” Trident said. “How high are they?”
“You do not want to know.”
“Try me.”
“2222 feet. Exactly.”
Trident stops running.
“What are you doing?”
“I cannot, Bramen. I cannot do it.”
“You can. You will.”
“I don’t know the first thing about climbing rocks.”
“Neither do I. I am from Gust for curses sake. As are you.”
“We are going to die.”
“We should keep running.”
“What good is conditioning to a dead man?”
“We are not going to die.”