Chapter 17
"But that's not a 540-backwheel!" Angie complained. "It's just a regular jumping backwheel, only you took a step first."
The three of us were in the gym, and I had just demonstrated the technique for learning to do a 540-backwheel to my sister and Toby. A 540-backwheel is one of those spinney-around-y kicks that looks really cool if you can do it right. I learned it from Grandmaster Park as part of my Tae Kwon Do training, but I've seen kickboxers and various other martial artists do it, too, or at least kicks that are similar.
Basically, you jump into the air, spin around one-and-a-half times, and kick your opponent in the head with your heel. (The "540" part of the name, in case you haven't figured it out, comes from the fact that you wind up doing a 540-degree spin in the air.) It's a difficult technique to master; Grandmaster Park doesn't teach it until you get to be a fourth Dan, which is why Angie was just now learning it. It took me months to get even half-decent at it.
I gave my sister the inscrutable smile I had been practicing. "Very observant, Grasshopper," I said, bowing. "You step around, plant your foot, and do a jumping backwheel. When you are proficient at that, then you simply omit the part where you plant your foot. Watch."
I demonstrated the practice technique again, and then I did an honest-to-goodness 540-backwheel. "See the difference? Now go practice."
Angela opened her mouth as if she were going to say something. Then she closed it again and moved to another part of the gym without another word.
"I don't think I've ever seen her speechless before," Toby remarked as we watched Angie slowly go through the step-and-kick routine.
"It doesn't happen too often, believe me." I punched him lightly in the arm. "Sorry, old man. I didn't mean to horn in on your private time with Angie."
"Er, yeah," he said, sounding embarrassed. "About that . . ."
"Look, she's a big girl, and I know she wouldn't appreciate me sticking my nose in her business," I told him. "So I won't."
"Thanks," he said, sounding relieved. "You, er, don't think I'm too old for her, do you?" Then almost immediately, he said, "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know what you think." He snorted. "'Old man'!"
"Fine. I wasn't going to tell you anyway."
He let out a long breath. "It's not even like I'm all that serious about her, not really. Know what I mean?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Why no," I said evenly, "I don't know what you mean." I crossed my arms. "Why don't you tell me just what your intentions are towards my sister?"
"Don't get your hackles up, mate," Toby replied, chuckling. "Sure, she's a nice-looking bird, and she's quite the breath of fresh air and all, but . . . . Look, Shelley and Bill are getting married, Mike and Trina have gotten all touchy-feely since their little date last February, Nicolai has Padma, and you . . . well, you have Lily and Padma, haven't you?"
"Except I haven't actually got Lily, and I --" I stopped myself. I had been about to say that I'd had Padma only once, months ago, and wasn't likely to again. I wasn't sure, though, whether Toby knew about our little dalliance, although at times it seemed like everyone else at HQ knew. "I haven't got Padma, either," I finished.
"Sure you do. You're just not banging her, that's all. But the two of you have a great relationship."
"And you're feeling left out, is that it?"
He thought it over. "I suppose I am. Look, all I'm saying is that every other bloke at HQ has a girl they can talk to, maybe put their arms around once in a while." He gave me a sideways glance. "Or, in your case, pound her face into the pavement once in a while."
"Right. So, you're just looking for a platonic -- and hopefully non-violent -- relationship with Angie?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he replied with a devilish grin. "Well, non-violent, of course, but like I said, she's a nice-looking bird, and she's past the age of consent, even in America. And with the force shields making us all temporarily sterile every time we use them, there's no way I could get her --"
"La la la la la!" I said loudly, sticking my fingers in my ears. "Can't hear you! La la la la la!"
Angie landed her jumping backwheel and turned to stare at us. "What are you guys talking about?" she demanded.
"Nothing important," I called back, lowering my hands and feeling my face turn bright red. "Ten more times, both sides, and then we'll go over Pyongwon."
She gave us another suspicious glance, but assumed a riding-horse stance and began performing another turn-and-kick. Beside me, Toby was trying hard not to burst out laughing. "Seriously, mate," he said, putting one large hand onto my shoulder, "I just think your sister's an awfully nice girl, and I'd like to get to know her better, that's all."
"And I suppose you'd like me to tell you just how to go about that, right?"
"Well . . . as long as you're offering . . ."
I sighed. How many guys had asked me that in the year that Angie and I had been in high school together? Or, for that matter, in the two years that Joy and I had been in high school together? Sisters!
"It's not that hard," I said. "She likes guys; I don't think she has ever turned down a request for a first date, as long as she didn't have something else going on."
"So, she's not particular? An easy girl to please?"
"I wouldn't say that. She's turned down lots of second dates, and I understand she even walked home once from a first date with a guy on the football team who didn't understand that no meant no."
"Oh, geez! What did you do to him after she told you that?"
"Me?" I shrugged. "Nothing. That was after I had joined the Primes, and I only heard about it a month or so after it happened. Jerome and Nick were all set to go beat the guy up, but she said no, that he would have a hard enough time explaining to his coach why he had bruised ribs and two black eyes."
Toby snorted. "So as long as I keep my hands to meself, it should be all right?"
"How should I know?" I said. "She's a big girl; maybe she won't want you to keep your hands to yourself. But if she doesn't, don't tell me about it; I don't want to know. Just . . ." I fluttered my hands in the air. ". . . you know, play it by ear. I'll tell you this much about her: She's friendly; she's active and likes to have fun; she was a pretty bright, pretty serious student in high school; she speaks four languages fluently, plus a couple of others; she's a fourth-degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do; she plays tennis; and she plays the trumpet and some piano. Beyond that, you're on your own, chum."
"I play tennis," Toby mused. "And I used to play the trombone a while back."
"There you go. You might offer to teach her boxing, too, because Tae Kwon Do training can sometimes skimp a little on the hand techniques." I held up a warning finger. "But if she ever comes crying to me in the middle of the night because of something you've done," I added, trying to make my tone as threatening as I could, "I can promise you that there will be consequences, and they will not be pleasant."
Toby frowned. "Was that supposed to sound like Mike?"
"Uh, yeah. How did I do?"
"It, well, it sounded like an Australian trying to do a Swedish accent. But I take your meaning. I'll be nice to her."
"That's usually the best policy anyway."
Angie had finished her practice kicks and was heading our way. "So, Pyongwon?"
"In a minute," I said, "but first . . ." I took a deep breath, hoping I wouldn't regret this. "Toby wants you to know that he thinks you're really nice, and he wants you to go out to visit Manchester with him to meet his family the next time he takes some vacation time."
"Oh!" She looked surprised for a moment. "Sure, that sounds like fun. I've never been outside the US, except as a Prime, which doesn't really count. Thanks, Toby, I'd love to go!"
"Don't mention it," he muttered, and I couldn't tell whether it was daggers or bouquets he wanted to throw at me.
Then we beg
an practicing Pyongwon, which is the Tae Kwon Do form one learns as a fourth Dan. I made Angie explain it move by move to Toby, because teaching something like that is one of the best ways to fix it in your own mind, while I corrected the mistakes she made. I think she was surprised at how quickly he picked it up, since he doesn't do TKD. Didn't surprise me, though. Toby is surprisingly graceful, given how big he is, and how awkward-looking. He was a pretty good dancer, too, I recalled, and I made a mental note to suggest that he take Angie out dancing with him.
Padma showed up about twenty minutes into our practice. "Wizzit said I would find you here, Trevor," she called out as she strolled into the gym. She stopped when she caught sight of Toby and Angela. "Oh, I didn't realize you were busy. I was hoping you and I could get some training in."
Toby smirked and mouthed "Told you!" at me. He nudged Angie. "Want to go a few rounds?" he asked. "I'm supposed to be working with you on your fighting technique anyway."
"You're supposed to be teaching me to fight?" she asked, skepticism obvious in her voice.
"Well, no," he replied. "We assume you can do that. It's more like getting you ready for Enclave battles, which aren't exactly like sparring. You know, Zoinks and monsters and all that. They fight dirty."
"Oh," she said dubiously. "All right, I guess."
He grinned at her. "If you like, you can pretend that Enclave turned me into that giant green fellow who used to be in all the vegetable commercials, and I'm coming to get you. Rahr!" He stuck his arms out in front of him and began walking stiff-legged towards her.
"Do you really think she can take him?" Padma asked me as I led her toward the opposite corner of the gym.
"Maybe, but I doubt it. Toby's been doing this stuff for years, and she's still pretty inexperienced. But even if she can, she'll definitely know she's been in a fight." I leaned against the wall and watched my sister attempt a roundhouse kick. It was a nice, high kick, because she's pretty flexible, but it still would have landed only at about Toby's shoulder if he hadn't blocked it. Toby obviously had a huge advantage in reach, weight, and strength, and even if Angie was the more highly trained of the two, I didn't think she could overcome all of that.
Still, that was what practice was for, and I wasn't worried about either of them. I shrugged and turned to Padma. "What was it you wanted to work on?"
"Everything," she replied. "Basic movements, forms, counter-attacks, free-fighting, maybe even some Korean." She set herself and began doing middle-punches to warm herself up. I counted silently along with her -- ten, twenty, fifty, one hundred, two hundred.
"Sounds like someone has a test coming up," I commented when she stopped.
"Oh, I didn't tell you about that, did I?" she said. She began doing scissors blocks now. "I had a talk with the master the last time I went home to visit, and he said he thought I was ready for my third Dan test. He was very impressed when I told him I was studying with a fourth Dan. He said he would like to meet you some day."
"Did you show him your form the way we've been practicing it?"
"Yes, I performed Keumgang for him. He said that it was very good overall, very strong."
"That's good. Second Dan is when you're supposed to be making your technique hard and strong. Keumgang means 'diamond', after all." A thought struck me. "Kind of like the diamond point of the vajra, I guess. Hard and strong and unbreakable, that's what a second Dan is supposed to be."
Padma laughed delightedly. "That's very clever of you," she said. "But you know . . . I worry a bit because he disagreed with some of the moves you showed me in the form, some placements of the hands and feet, minor things like that. Did he learn it wrong, or did you?"
I shrugged. "Neither one, probably. Every school has its own variations of the forms. You should do it the way your master says for as long as you're his student."
"I see. That's all right, then." She stopped doing her blocks then and looked over at me shyly. "So, would you like to come with me the next time I go home? I would like you there for my belt test."
"Uh, sure," I said uncertainly. "But, um, won't Nicolai be upset, though? I'd think you would invite him home to visit your parents, not me."
"Don't be silly! Nicolai has already met them a few times. And it is not as if we were married, after all. I don't have to bring him with me everywhere I go. I can invite whomever I choose." Then she added with a sigh, "And besides, he had already set aside that time to work on a paper with Bill. They are presenting it at a maths conference in England."
I chuckled. "So I'm your backup date, eh?"
"Well," she said, shrugging, "if you do not want to go . . ."
"No, I do want to go," I put in hastily. "I just wanted to make sure where I stood, that's all."
Padma got down on the floor to begin stretching out. I decided to practice some kicks while I was waiting for her to get ready, to make sure I didn't cool off. "What are you doing here, by the way?" I asked. "I thought you and Bill and Nicolai were going to go over that Unity field thing with Wizzit."
"We did," she explained, "and it was very interesting, but when they started discussing what to do about it, I quickly found myself out of my depth. And then Shelley stopped by wanting to know if we could build a couple of devices for her within the next two days. Nicolai volunteered me. It will take quite some time, some concentrated effort, so I decided to take a break before I got started."
"What sort of devices?"
Padma reached out and down and grabbed the ball of her right foot with both hands. "I think she wants to explain them herself, but . . . " Here she looked up at me and smiled an impish smile. ". . . you might want to get used to calling yourself Junior Prime Blue."
Attack Doll 5: The End of Lily Lee Page 17