Valor's Calling

by Kal Spriggs

  “Well, we need to make sure that we get other representatives involved,” Scarpitti shook her head. “The year after I left, there wasn't another female on the team, can you believe it?”

  Given the peculiarities of the sport, I supposed that I could, but I didn't say that. “That's too bad, ma'am.” I noticed that Cadet Salter had made a hasty retreat. What a rat, I thought to myself. Not that I blamed her, Commander Scarpitti just seemed to like to talk, and always at the least convenient times.

  “It's great to see you doing so well,” Commander Scarpitti went on. “A plebe, and already on the men's varsity team. Very accomplished!”

  “I'm just a coxswain, ma'am,” I said.

  “Still, a good cox makes all the difference!” she said earnestly. “Do you mind showing me the grav-shells? I'm sure the ones I used have been retired by this point, but I'd love to see what your team uses to race.”

  I forced myself to smile. “Of course, ma'am.”

  We walked through, and I pointed out what details I remembered about each of them. Commander Scarpitti would pause here and there to pat one or stroke the smooth lines of another. “I miss this sport,” she said, practically gushing, her harsh voice softening to the point that she almost sounded girlish. “I'd forgotten how much. The rush, the joy of competition... isn't it great?”

  “This is my first race,” I admitted.

  “Really?” She looked down at me, “well, I'm certain you will represent the Academy well. I dare say that you'll impress us all!”

  “Thanks, ma'am,” I said. I still wanted to check out the Arrow, but I hadn't had a chance to do more than a cursory look at it as I showed the Commander around. As I tried to make my escape to do that, I heard Mackenzie shout, “Biohazard, it's screening time!”

  I sighed and ran in his direction. As soon as I arrived, two judges escorted me to the side, had me strip down in a booth, and then ran the scanner equipment, checking me out for illegal cybernetics or drugs, from what I understood. I didn't know why anyone would want to cheat at a college event, but I wasn't going to ask that question of these two women. One of them gave a nod, “You're clean. You can get changed into your race suit.”

  I flushed a bit as I started pulling that on. It was the school colors, gray and blue, but it was a skin-tight, sheer material that clung to my body in a fashion that made me feel rather uncertain. The older of the two judges gave me a smile, “Don't worry, dear, you look fine, and the only curves people will be watching are the ones of your grav-shell.”

  I flushed in response, but I felt a little better as I stepped out and walked over to our shells. Mackenzie gave me a nod, “Ready, Biohazard?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied.

  Stroud gave a chuckle, “We're not on campus, out here, you get to call him by his nickname: Captain Crunch.”

  “What?” I asked.

  To my surprise, Mackenzie flushed. “I, uh, wrecked a grav-shell on my first day on the team.”

  “You wrecked a grav-shell?” I asked in surprise.

  “He got off-synch with the other rower and the coxswain tried to correct,” Stroud grinned. “Then Captain Crunch here tried to save it by throwing his weight to the side... he wound up running the whole thing into a sand dune. Total loss. We all thought that the team captain was going to kill him... but here he stands.”

  I looked between them, not sure if they'd made the entire story up. Mackenzie shrugged, “It's true, Armstrong. So don't worry so much about your nickname. I had commissioned officers calling me Captain Crunch in class.”

  “Sir,” I snorted, unable to really find a response for that.

  “Racers,” a voice blasted over the desert, “all Varsity Men's racers assemble your shells at the starting line. Race will begin in five minutes.”

  “Here we go,” Mackenzie grinned. “Mount up, Biohazard.”

  I climbed into the seat and they pulled it down from the rack, and carried it over to the starting line. I wasn't sure what to really expect, possibly four or five grav-shells.

  Instead, there were twenty or more. I couldn't count them all, not from my low-down position. “Is there room for all of them?” I asked.

  “It'll be crowded,” Mackenzie nodded, “First heat always is. But if we do well enough to get to the second heat, the numbers thin out. We should only have to race three heats today, including finals. I've been to some races where we have to do five... let me tell you, that's exhausting.”

  I couldn't imagine. I already felt like a nervous wreck. What if I messed things up? What if I disappointed Mackenzie? I couldn't imagine being thrown off the team, but maybe there was a first for everything.

  Before my nervousness could really tear me up, it was race time. “Racers, ready!” a voice shouted. Around us, grav-shells jockeyed for position on the starting line. A red one, just to the side, edged so close that I was worried they'd hit us, but their coxswain, his head barely visible in his cockpit, held it steady just short of collision.

  “Racers, five, four three, two, one, go!” There was a gunshot and then Mackenzie and Stroud were running forward, driving the Daisy forward until they mounted. For just a second, I stared at my controls, forgetting what they all did.

  Then something in the back of my head took over and I started shouting commands.

  The red shell to my right edged ahead and I dropped us down, picking up speed. We edged ahead of the red shell but we'd lost height so I shouted, “Power Ten on five!”

  I counted it down and then the explosive power of the two rowers behind me hit, practically vaulting us in the air as they fed power to the grav-coils. We'd trained hard, before, but this was a race and it felt like they held nothing back. We surged forward, racing across the flats, wind and dust stinging my face, just as the sun came up behind us, lighting up the entire desert.

  We covered forty kilometers in what seemed like mere seconds, dashing across the finish line so fast that I wasn't certain we had crossed, not until the two rowers went limp behind me and the shouts of the other coxswains cut off.

  I coughed, my throat raw from shouting, my vision blurry and my body feeling at once exhilarated and exhausted. We curved around in a slow turn and I brought us to a halt near the scoreboard. They already had the results posted by that time.

  “Third place, not bad, not bad at all, Biohazard,” Mackenzie gave me a broad smile. “That gets us to the second heat.”

  Stroud finished draining his bottle of water, “Good race, Armstrong.”

  “Thank you,” I croaked. I wished I'd brought water for myself. We made our way back along the course with the other racers, moving far slower and on the return side. As we did, I saw the female racers blast past, before we even really started on the way back. “They must have started right after we finished,” I said.

  “Nope,” Mackenzie shook his head, “They start a few minutes after we started. They don't go quite as fast, but with how many races they have to do, they try to get everyone through as quickly as they can. That's why I didn't let you coxswain for our female rowers, no way you'd make it back in time, which would disqualify you immediately.”

  I didn't respond. I wanted to save my voice, especially since it looked like I'd be mounting up on the Arrow as soon as I got back. I wasn't wrong, either, as we pulled in, I saw Dawson and Rufus ready to go.

  I hopped out of the seat and ran over, even as I heard, “Racers, amateur men's racing heat racers report to the start area.”

  I had just enough time to suck down a cup of water that someone passed me and then climb in. As we got to the start area, Dawson looked down at me, “You ready?”

  “Absolutely!” I shouted back. The crazy energy of the race was contagious. It was addictive. I wanted to race again and I could barely wait. The speed, the excitement... in the light grav-shell, it was the next-best thing to flying, just above ground.

  They did the count down and I braced myself, feeling my heart race, feeling the thrill of anticipation. The shot rang out and D
awson and Rufus ran us forward. I gave a shout of exhilaration as we started to move.

  Then it was back into the fury. I shouted out commands as we moved forward and it seemed like we were at the head of the pack. As we went faster and faster, the wind and dust pelting my face, skimming across the ground, I felt happy for the first time in as long as I could remember.

  That's when the strut supporting the starboard grav stabilizer let go.

  The whole starboard outrigger separated and we started to roll that way, the ground screaming past less than a meter from my face. I mashed on the emergency stop button by reflex, but nothing happened.

  I didn't have time to scream before we slammed into the ground.

  ***

  Chapter Twelve: Picking Up The Pieces

  I came to as someone dragged me out of the grav-shell. Everything was chaos and confusion. Someone helped me to stand and I limped off to the side, trying to make sense of the world. I blinked and for a second, all I saw behind my eyes was spinning earth and sky.

  “Look at me, are you okay?” the emergency technician asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  “Three,” I said, even as I tried to calm my breathing. This was the third time I'd survived an aircraft crash. I would have liked to think I'd handle it better. I looked up, “Is everyone okay?”

  “Don't worry about anyone else, okay?” she smiled at me, “Now, sweetheart, I'm going to go through some questions with you...”

  She worked me over, checking to make sure I didn't have any breaks or numb spots. By the time she'd finished, I saw an emergency vehicle pull up. A moment later, she helped me in the back and we drove off. “I need to contact my team captain,” I said to her.

  “We've already contacted your school, they've sent an air ambulance since you don't have any live-threatening injuries,” she said. “We'll meet them at the landing site.”

  “Okay,” I said. I lay back on the gurney, too shaken to talk. As my eyes closed, I saw spinning sky and ground again, but this time I saw what I'd seen in the crash. Pieces flying off the grav-shell. Bodies flying free, being flung into the air... and into the ground.

  I opened my eyes, “How are Dawson and Rufus?”

  The technician didn't answer at first. She looked towards the front of the vehicle, then back at me. “The two boys were both flung free. As I understand, one of them was thrown pretty far, but he landed alright. The other one...”

  “I need to know,” I said, staring at her. The woman flinched back from the intensity in my voice. “Rufus,” the technician said, “he was thrown into the ground and the grav-shell landed on him and then dragged him. He's not in good shape. We evacuated him, I don't know any more than that.”

  My fault, I thought to myself. I must have messed up somewhere. Maybe I'd pushed the grav-shell too hard, maybe I'd messed up steering and put too much stress on the frame. I'd seen the side strut give way, it had come loose from the outrigger. Without the stabilizer, the ground effect forces had rolled us over.

  “The emergency power never kicked on,” I said. That might not have stopped us in time, but it should have done something.

  “What?” the woman asked.

  But I didn't say anything. She didn't need to know. The Admiral needed to know. The emergency power should have kicked in and at least slowed us down. It hadn't. The strut separating was one thing. I could believe that I'd caused that, that I'd messed up. But the emergency failsafe should have kicked in. That was one thing that had been hammered into me, that pushing that would slow us to a halt. It might not have prevented the roll-over, but it should have at least brought us to a stop rather than the long, skidding nightmare crash I saw every time I closed my eyes.

  Someone must have sabotaged the grav-shell and I thought I knew who.

  ***

  “Someone did sabotage the crew shell,” the Admiral nodded. “The race investigators have determined that the power cable for the emergency failsafe had been disconnected. They also determined that two of the three bolts attaching the strut to the outrigger had been loosened.”

  “What are you going to do about this?” I demanded.

  She gave me a look and I sat straighter, “Sorry, ma'am.”

  “I understand you are concerned for the well-being of your team-mates. Believe me, girl, I already have taken precautions, many of which you've not seen. I've also taken actions as a result of this event,” the Admiral's cold voice held an edge of anger that terrified me. She had a level of raw intensity that almost made me quiver in response. She was, quite simply, terrifying.

  “Ma'am,” I started to speak, “I saw Commander Bonnadonna in the cargo hold for the skimmer...”

  “His presence wasn't related to the sabotage,” the Admiral dismissed my statement.

  “Ma'am,” I began, “I--”

  “He was not involved, I assure you of that,” the Admiral snapped. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to speak with young Plebe Rufus's parents, who need to know how this happened. You are dismissed, Plebe Armstrong.”

  I stood stiffly and gave her a sharp salute, so angry at the dismissal that I could barely breathe. I turned sharply and stepped out of the Admiral's office. I'd managed to talk my way out of the Academy hospital and into her office, but as I walked out, I could feel the aches and pains of my entire body. I paused in the outer office and saw a man and woman in civilian clothes. Rufus's parents. I wanted to go up to them and tell them I'd been in the grav-shell, that it was probably my fault that their son was in the hospital.

  But I couldn't make my feet work that way. Instead, I walked past them and out of the office. I went down the corridors in a daze, my body hurting, my mind running in circles again.

  I got back to my room and found Alexander outside in the corridor, his face hard. “I told you.” He shook his head, “I told you that it was too dangerous.” He walked away before I could respond.

  I went into my room and closed the door. Ashiri wasn't there. I just sort of crouched down, my back to the door. After everything else, Alexander's words hurt the most. It was my fault. Dawson was injured, Rufus was in the hospital. All three of us could have died.

  I just sort of crawled over and got into bed, tears streaming down my face. I had nearly died. Why did they want to kill me? I didn't know anything. I was just a kid.

  “Jiden?” I hadn't heard Ashiri open the door.

  “Yeah,” I said, “what is it?”

  She came over and put her hand on my shoulder. “It's okay.”

  “It's not okay,” I snapped. I didn't look at her, I didn't want her to see how weak I was. “I was stupid. I'm going to resign from the grav-shell team. I'll find something else, something that won't make other people a target. Maybe I'll resign from the Academy...”

  “Shut up,” Ashiri snapped. She pulled me around by the shoulder and I hissed in pain. I might have come through without broken bones or other serious injuries, but bruises covered my body. “It isn't your fault. You didn't put a gun to Isaac Champion's head and force him to work with those smugglers. You didn't do the same thing to whoever is trying to kill you now. None of this is your fault.”

  I couldn't meet her eyes, “But I knew someone wanted to hurt me. I made Rufus and Dawson targets...”

  “That's a load of hidoi,” Ashiri snorted. “You didn't make them a target, whoever is after you is a callous enough person that they're willing to kill innocent people to get you. Yeah, taking up a dangerous sport like grav-shell racing probably gave him a route to hurt you, but it probably didn't matter what you do, he's still going to be after you.”

  “Commander Bonnadonna,” I muttered, “it has got to be him.”

  “What?” Ashiri asked.

  I told her how I'd seen him in the cargo compartment of the skimmer. She frowned, “You told someone, right?”

  “I told the Admiral,” I snapped, “and all she did was tell me that it wasn't him. She didn't even let me finish.” I felt so angry about that. It was like I was just a
child, someone who didn't need to know everything and who could be ignored. This was my life, I wanted some input on it.

  “Maybe it isn't him,” Ashiri said. “There were plenty of other people with access. For all we know, Rufus did it for Bolander from Ogre...”

  “And hurt himself?” I shook my head. “That makes no sense at all. No. I saw Commander Bonnadonna in the cargo bay. I checked over the Daisy but I didn't get a chance to look over the Arrow before the race.”

  “I still think you shouldn't jump to conclusions,” Ashiri cautioned me. “Alex said...”

  “Alexander blames me for what happened to Dawson and Rufus,” I snapped. “And he thinks I'm an idiot for putting other people at risk.”

  “That's not it at all!” Ashiri shook her head, “he's angry at you for putting yourself at risk and for not having one of us to watch your back. Dawson's on the grav-shell team with you, but he doesn't know that someone tried to kill you. Maybe if he had, then he would have checked the grav-shell for sabotage.”

  “I can't tell everyone,” I sputtered. The last thing I wanted was more attention and that was exactly what word getting out would give me. Things were hard enough already. I felt like every action I took was under a microscope.

  “You don't have to tell anyone else, but it would be nice if me or Alex could watch your back,” Ashiri rolled her eyes. “Geez, Jiden, just accept some help, now and again!”

  “Okay!” I threw my hands in the air, “Help me!”

  “Well, me or Alex could join the grav-shell team, if you could get one of us in,” she mused.

  “I'm not going back,” I growled.

  “Don't be stupid,” Ashiri shook her head, “whoever tried this is going to lay low. You like the racing, right?”

  I thought about that for a long moment. Right now, the last thing I wanted to do was get back in the seat. Yet as I thought about the feel of the wind on my face and the raw joy I'd felt, I really wanted to experience that again. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Well, we'll see how this all shakes down,” Ashiri said. “They brought us down from a drill event for it, ended the exercise and everything. Word got out pretty fast that Dawson was injured and Rufus was in the hospital, though we haven't had any more details since then. Really, it's a minor miracle that you walked away from it...”