The Ninth

by Benjamin Schramm

  Together they made their way to what looked like a giant silver bookcase. As they got closer, it was apparent that meals on metal plates took the place of what should have been books. Brent watched intently as Cassandra selected a meal and waved her pad over a scanner, making sure he understood well enough to do it on his own. A balance briefly flashed and two meals lowered to an easily reachable dispenser.

  “Don’t mind if I pay, do you?” Cassandra handed the plate to him. “I have to make it up to you somehow.”

  “By all means.” He noticed the plate did not contain D rations. “I’m not even sure if I have any money on my pad.”

  “Can’t have that. Let’s find out how poor you are.”

  She snatched his pad before he could comment. She selected a free glass of water and passed the pad over the scanner. The balance read a little over fifteen thousand.

  “That little rat,” Cassandra grumbled as she returned the pad.

  “Who?” Brent tried to put the pad back in his pocket without dropping his meal.

  “Cain. I’m guessing the change is yours, but that fifteen thousand was from him.”

  “Really? Why would he give me so much?”

  “I told him to split his winnings with you. Enough my rear.”

  Cassandra worked her way to an empty table and sat down. He sat opposite her. She grabbed a fork and stabbed the food on her plate. He was about to say something as she brought the fork to the reflective surface of the helmet. As the food made contact, the surface rippled and the food and fork passed through. Brent blinked as the fork came out of the rippling surface with the food missing. He shook his head and focused.

  “Winnings?” He asked as Cassandra devoured her meal.

  “Oh. Well you see . . . how do I put this . . .” Cassandra spoke between swallowing. “Cain’s a bookie, and he made a lot yesterday.”

  “Let me guess. He bet on me and won some credits when I passed the exams. One of the guys from maintenance told me he had most of his salary riding on me.”

  “Not much gets past you, does it. How’s the food?”

  Brent realized he hadn’t even tasted the food yet. The day before he had been served two squares; now in front of him was actual food. Drumsticks from some bird, corn, toast, and some white goop that had to be mashed potatoes. The corn and mashed potatoes were divine.

  “Obviously not D rations.” He savored every bite.

  “Obviously. These here are A rations.” Cassandra had stopped eating. “Won’t find a better meal on the academy,” she said absentmindedly.

  “Something wrong?” Brent raised an eyebrow.

  “Behind you. I think they are talking about you . . . don’t look!” Cassandra scolded him as he was about to turn around.

  He continued to enjoy the meal as he strained to hear the conversation at the next table.

  “ . . .you’re joking,” a male trooper protested.

  “I tell you, I’m serious. A Weaver talked to me.” A second trooper remained firm.

  “Right, and Administer Bloom asks me permission to use a stall,” a third joked.

  “Look, you two believe what you want, but I tell you it’s the truth.” The second insisted. “I was waiting for a free stall when a Weaver stopped right in front of me.”

  “Why did he do that?” The third was intrigued now.

  “No idea. But get this. He shook my hand.”

  “Now I know you are lying.” The first trooper dismissed the whole story.

  “I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t been there,” the second trooper finished his story. “He took my hand and shook it like I was some kind of diplomat. After that, he wished me a good day and continued on his way.”

  “Now listen here.” The first boy lectured the others. “There’s a Weaver in my squad. The division leader had to campaign for months to get her. The girl acts like she doesn’t walk on the same ground we do, as if she floats above us, better than the rest of us. Anyone tries to talk to her, boom, on the ground weeping. She barely listens to the squad leader. There is no way a Weaver shook your hand and wished you a good day.”

  “Oh relax. Dougie isn’t making it up.” Brent was surprised to recognize the voice as Marie from that morning. “Something similar happened to the two of us. Probably the same Weaver.”

  “He was very kind,” the second girl added. “Apologized and everything. He even did this fancy bow.”

  “Liz has been swooning ever since,” Marie joked. “She won’t stop talking about it.”

  “Looks like you’ve got a fan club.” Cassandra interrupted Brent’s eavesdropping.

  “Had no idea.” Brent shrugged.

  “Is there a fee to join? You got tee-shirts and everything?” Cassandra chuckled.

  He smiled and returned to his meal. He had almost finished it all. It seemed a crime to leave any of it unfinished.

  “Liz!” Marie’s shriek forced Brent to turn around.

  He instantly recognized Philip and Jamie standing menacingly near the troopers. The first girl from that morning was cringing in fear, tears streaming down her face. Marie was trying to snap her out of it.

  “So you are the ones spreading rumors about how us Weavers have gone soft?” Jamie scowled.

  “Can’t have that,” Philip hissed as his face contorted. “Have to teach you all your place.”

  Brent jumped out from the table and tossed his plate at Philip. The plate hit its mark, and the boy tumbled over the table behind him. Liz was still shaking. Apparently just knocking out a Weaver didn’t end their manipulations.

  “Philip J. Rollins, James H. Turner,” Brent barked their names. “You two detestable pieces of garbage. Why not pick on someone who can fight back?”

  It worked perfectly. As he hoped, Jamie instantly forgot about the troopers and focused his attention on him. Now that the troopers were in the clear, the only problem left was to deal with was the fact Brent couldn’t actually fight back.

  “You again. I’m willing to bet this is all your fault.” Jamie helped his partner up. “Putting strange ideas in their heads.”

  Together, the two stared him down. Philip’s face contorted; Jamie’s eye twitched. Brent could feel the rage building within him. His muscles tensed as they cried out for blood. It was all he could do to contain the rage bubbling within him. A sudden jolt of pain in his hands demanded his attention. For a moment he panicked as he realized his hand was on fire. It took him a moment to get over the shock. His hands weren’t actually on fire, but they were engulfed in a blackening aurora that danced like fire. Focusing on his the light, Brent imagined the black fading and turning into the same sort of outline Cassandra had. Almost instantly, the black completely disappeared. Philip and Jamie took a stunned step back.

  “You know those two, Brent?” Cassandra asked in astonishment.

  “Would you look at that? You’ve already got a friend.” Jamie grinned sinisterly. “Thanks for giving us a easy target.”

  At once, Jamie’s eye started twitching. Brent spun to find the aura around Cassandra was changing to a pale yellow. He imagined the yellow fading away. The color slowly faded but nowhere as rapidly as the black had in his own aura. He focused everything he had on the aura. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the yellow at bay. As soon as he had weakened the yellow somewhere another surge would flash somewhere else in the outline. Suddenly Brent was on the floor, his head throbbing. Another metal plate rattled nearby.

  “Like to throw things, do you?” Philip laughed.

  Returning to his feet, he found Cassandra completely engulfed in yellow, the suit visibly shaking. The helmet glanced around fleetingly, as if looking for something that wasn’t really there.

  “Aw, looks like you lost.” Jamie turned on the trooper at the other table. “Too bad. Now for the others.”

  The troopers backed away, preparing for the worst. Marie was still hovering over Liz. Brent stared helplessly; he couldn’t see any other auroras or outlines. He wouldn�
��t let the two win without a fight. He jumped over the table and dived on Jamie. Jamie hit the floor hard. Brent slugged the downed Weaver. Again, a massive pain throbbed through Brent’s skull as he fell to the floor. Rolling over, he glimpsed Philip still holding a metal plate. Philip swung it down hard on Brent.

  Brent barely had time to block the blow with his right arm. Stinging pain flashed through the entire length of his exposed arm. Philip raised the plate, preparing for another attack. As Philip swung the plate down, Brent shoved Jamie into its path. It made a sickening snapping sound as it impacted. Philip was momentarily stunned as he realized he had just hit the wrong Weaver. Brent stood and tore the plate out of Philips hands and tossed it away.

  “Like to pick on those weaker than you?” Brent asked Philip as he balled his fist.

  Philip tried to retreat as Brent landed a knockout blow against his chin. Philip fell to the floor like a wet noodle. He lifted the two off the floor and sat them at an empty table. They moaned in pain.

  “Now, you two listen, and listen good.” Brent didn’t have to force the malice in his voice. “Davis warned you not to use your abilities when he isn’t around. If he hears about this, I’m sure he’ll have some embarrassing punishment lined up for you. But you listen closely. If I ever catch you, or even hear of you using your abilities on troopers, I . . . will . . . kill . . . you. Do you understand?”

  Brent released his tight control over his emotions and let the black fully envelop him to drive home the point. The two boys dared not answer as they stared at him in abject terror. They both nodded over and over.

  “Good, now get out of here and don’t you even think about getting revenge on any of these troopers.” Brent lifted the two to their feet. “If you so much as lay a finger on any of them, I will find you. I will end you.”

  As quickly as they could, the pair hobbled off. He suddenly realized every trooper in hearing distance was staring at him. Turning, he found the five troopers and Cassandra staring at him blankly. He breathed a sigh of relief that none of them were convulsing any longer. As Brent took a step forward, his foot slipped on the floor. He managed to maintain his balance as he looked down. A small coating of what had been the remains of his lunch coated the floor.

  “What a waste,” He grumbled to himself.

  The nearby troopers burst into victorious laughter. Brent climbed over the table and returned to his seat.

  “Looks like you do know something about explosive tempers,” Cassandra chuckled.

  “You all right?” Brent ignored her comment.

  “I think so. A minute ago I had the most disturbing sensation I was being watched.” She cringed as she thought about it. “It was horrifying.”

  “Excuse me,” a timid voice came from behind Brent.

  Turning, he found Liz nervously standing behind him.

  “I wanted to thank you for stepping in.” She was blushing softly as she spoke. “You really saved us.”

  “The same goes for all of us.” Marie patted Liz firmly on the shoulder.

  “Don’t worry about it”. Brent was uncomfortable under the praise and wasn’t sure what to say. “Anyone would have done that.”

  “So modest, too!” Marie leaned closer. “Hey, can I ask a you a favor?”

  “What is it?” Brent worried what she wanted.

  “Could you do that fancy bow again?” Marie winked suggestively. “Liz loves it.”

  A loud thud startled Brent. Cassandra had slammed her fist against the table. Gathering her plate she quickly stormed off. An odd teal color surrounded her.

  “Would you excuse me?” He quickly got up and followed after her.

  After a few steps, he paused. Turning, he quickly bowed to the girls and continued after Cassandra. She was storming down a corridor; the other troopers hugged the wall as she passed, staying out of her way.

  “You all right?” Brent asked as he caught up.

  “Not going to play with your fan club?” She was clearly upset.

  “That’s what’s got you so mad? It’s not like I wanted to get into a fight. Although, that seems to happen every time I step foot in there . . .”

  “Don’t try to be funny. I know you’d rather be with them. Cute little girls who don’t flash red.”

  “Okay, now you are just being stupid.”

  The suit turned on him and grabbed his neck. Brent’s feet dangled as she lifted him toward the ceiling.

  “Sorry, not buying it,” he rasped. “The ‘I’m a big scary monster’ trick is so ten minutes ago.”

  Despite herself, Cassandra laughed a single time and set him down.

  “Maybe that helmet of yours is on too tight or something.” Brent rubbed his throat.

  “You looking for a fight?” she asked as the anger in her voice faded. “Or maybe you just like it in Medical.”

  “Not really. The nurses have a bedside manner that makes you look like a gentle kitten. Now get this through that fishbowl on your head. I don’t buy the evil monster act. You are just a girl, on equal footing with any other trooper on this station. A little stronger with a penchant for dramatics maybe, but, aside from that, you are just like any other girl on this station.”

  “You know, you talk too much, too.”

  “Fair enough. Now are you going to take me to the observation deck?”

  “Wait, you still want to go with me?”

  “You are the one who thinks I need to stay away from mortal threats. I happen to be neutral on the subject. They seem to seek me out anyways, and if someone is going to kill me, I might as well enjoy their company while I can.”

  “There is something seriously wrong with you.” Cassandra laughed heartily.

  Chapter 12: The War Room

  The observation room was immense, even bigger than the mess hall. Massive screens lined every wall. Brent could make out an instructor shouting at some recruits as they performed grueling feats.

  “Does it really need to be so big?” he asked in wonder.

  “Of course.” It was obvious Cassandra didn’t share his wonder. “Any smaller and you wouldn’t be able to cram every trooper on the station in here.”

  “Does it get that crowded?”

  “Of course. Yesterday at this time this place was filled to capacity.”

  “So, why is it so empty?”

  “You are the perceptive one. Why ask me? My guess is people got what they wanted yesterday and aren’t really interested in watching a second round of exams.”

  Cassandra took a seat in one of the thousands of chairs. Surveying the various monitors, he realized he didn’t recognize a single person. As they watched the exams, Brent noticed they seemed much more simplistic than the ones he had gone through. It dawned on him that each recruit was alone when they took the exams.

  “So recruits are tested individually?” Brent asked.

  “Normally. Yesterday was unique.” Cassandra was obviously bored. “There are some exams that use groups for certain parts, but most of them are done one at a time.”

  “Wonder why they didn’t want to retest me.”

  “I’d think that would be obvious. You passed every single exam. On top of that you led everyone in your group to pass, too. Making you do it all again would be a waste of time.”

  “I suppose.” He glanced at her and studied the outline for a moment before clearing this throat. “Listen. I have a proposal for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Back in the mess hall I couldn’t stop them from altering your emotions. I don’t like being helpless . . .”

  “Stop right there. I’m not about to be your test subject. It was freaky. One minute I was just fine, the next I was trembling – eyes were everywhere, each one of them staring at me. I’m not going to experience that again.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I was going to ask if you wouldn’t mind spending some time with me.”

  Cassandra was silent for a moment.

  “What for?” Her voice was nervous.

&n
bsp; “Well, of all the people on this station, you are the only one I can sense.” Brent watched as her outline flashed a reddish orange. “Despite that, I still can’t understand half of what I see. I was thinking that if I could spend time with you I might get a better understanding of my abilities.”

  “So you plan to do what exactly? Follow me around and watch me like a hawk? Think I’d prefer the imaginary stares.”

  “I have something a little more productive than that in mind. Do we get any free time? When we don’t have the day off, I mean.”

  “Well, we have general training in the mornings. After that, we have a couple of hours for lunch. Then we have specialized training until evening. After that, we are free to do what we want. The more prestigious divisions have their own training sessions, but the FF is pretty laid back until our trials come up. So I guess from about six on we don’t have anything we have to do.”

  “All right. Would you mind watching 3Ps with me?” He paused and thought for a moment. “Is ‘watching’ the right term? Should I say experience or view or something?”

  Cassandra flared a bright orange.

  “Watching is fine. I wouldn’t mind that,” Cassandra said sheepishly. “But I get to decide which 3Ps. If I’m going to be your lab rat, I might as well get some enjoyment out of it.”

  “Can I make suggestions?” Brent suddenly wondered what a super strong female would pick for entertainment.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Brent! Cassandra! Didn’t expect to find you two here,” a familiar voice shouted down the observation room.

  “Of course,” Cassandra grumbled. “I’m having a good day for the first time in a long while, and Cain has to come along and ruin it.”

  “Taking more bets, Cain?” Brent shouted back.

  “Who told you about that?” Cain stared at Cassandra as he took a seat nearby.

  “Don’t look at me. He figured it out all by himself. He’s a big boy,” Cassandra said mockingly.

  “So, your brilliance isn’t limited to exams.” Cain grinned widely, ignoring Cassandra. “To answer your question, I’ve got the day off, too. It’s the next grade’s turn to handle betting, poor things.”