>>Pfft, he’s nowhere near as cool as I am.
Whatever, Jinx. Can you fly?
>>I could if I wanted to. If you built me some wings.
You’d be a Pegasus cat then.
‘Okay, I think he’s ready to be leashed up,’ I say. I pull the glasses down off my nose and rub my eyes, the familiar prickle of dryness entering my awareness now the focus is gone.
Tobias leashes Aero and it takes only a few seconds before he is fully booted up. He runs a diagnostic check. ‘Well, holy crap. You did it. Diagnostics say that he’s back up to full functionality.’
I shrug, trying to control the giant smile that wants to plaster itself on my face. Instead, I concentrate on stretching out my fingers, which are stiff from gripping the soldering iron so tightly. ‘It wasn’t too hard.’
My eyes flick up and catch his – and to my surprise, the expression on his face is one of pure and simple admiration. ‘You’re just full of surprises.’
He seems genuine, and it’s the first time that I realize my skills might end up being more valuable than I thought. I’m touched.
‘Good job, teammate.’
‘You’re welcome.’ In my awkwardness, I put out my hand. Inwardly, I’m cringing.
Jinx echoes my thoughts. >>A handshake? That’s really what you’re going for in this situation?
Shh, I hiss. It’s too late for me to back out now. Thankfully, Tobias takes it in his stride. He clasps my hand.
I don’t know if he feels it too. A spark. A moment where electricity leaps from my hand to his, where all the neurons in my palm seem to light up. It takes my breath away. It feels like our hands are clasped for a lifetime.
And then the moment is over. His hand slips from mine. ‘I’ll see you around then, Lacey,’ he says.
I swear there is a tiny smile playing on his lips.
Whatever it is, he leaves the room, taking his newly fixed eagle with him. And I have to catch myself on the desk or else risk melting into a puddle on the floor.
LECTURES, NOT CLASSES.
Professionals, not teachers.
Gathering, not homeroom.
And Baku Battles – not homework.
This is my first month at Profectus. Baku Battles seep into every aspect of my life, to the point that I wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, as I fend off razor-sharp eagle talons and shiny metallic tiger baku teeth. Jinx is never the one in the arena, it is always me. But then, Jinx isn’t allowed in the arena anyway.
I spend every spare moment not in school with the team in the Profectus team practice grounds, running drills, watching videos of old battles and preparing strategies.
Mom’s pretty worried about my late hours. This is exactly what she was afraid of – that I would first disappear into my hobby, then into the school, then into a job – and then maybe for good. But I’m doing this for the two of us. To get us a better life. If that means working harder now so that I can relax later, then so be it.
Plus, I’m sure things will die down once the first battles are over.
And I’ve promised to see Zora this weekend to stream the latest season of our favourite sci-fi TV series, OUTERLANDS, which is launching Saturday at eight p.m. – prime time. She’s been pretty understanding that I had to concentrate during that first month of school, even though I can’t fill her in on exactly why I’ve been so busy.
But before I can think about the weekend there’s the first battle to get through. Ashley and Jupiter are going to be up first. According to Tobias, the first battles are always for low level students and bakus. It’s a chance for teams to test their mettle before the bigger events and to save their strongest players until later in the competition.
‘Any insider tips?’ asks Jake, seeking me out by my locker. He’s running the school’s gambling ring with aplomb, reworking old code so that the betting app makes suggestions based on heart rate spikes and pupil dilation. He calls it ‘tapping into instinct’.
I call it a load of crap. Which it is, but it doesn’t stop the entire student body (and most of the teachers) from downloading and using it.
‘No – and even if I did, you know I couldn’t tell you!’
‘Fair enough. Have to ask these things! Good luck, little Lacey.’
‘Thanks, Jake.’
The atmosphere for the first official battle is tense, and the entire school comes out to watch. My heart goes out to Ashley. She has to last thirty minutes to guarantee a share of the full one hundred points. If Jupiter goes down, we’ll have until the following morning to repair any damage back up to minimum 90% functionality.
‘Ready, Ashley?’ asks Mr Baird. As the companioneering teacher, he runs the battles.
She nods, her pale face tinged grey. She follows Mr Baird down into the competitors’ preparation room, where she’ll be loaded into one of the lifts to be brought up into the arena.
‘She’s going to get murdered,’ mutters Kai, as we file into the team box to watch. Front row seats to the action.
‘Come on now,’ says Tobias, but his expression is dark too.
‘You know she’s too soft about that baku of hers.’
‘Well, that’s why we’re sending her in first. She’ll have to toughen up. And you know she’s the best electronical engineer in the second year, so we had to have her on our team.’
‘At least she’s up against other level 3 bakus,’ says River.
‘I’m not so sure about that.’
All the eyes of the team flick to me. Because while Tobias, Kai and River have been focused on the strategies laid out on the backs of their bakus, I’ve been watching the other teams: in particular, Gemma’s team. And Gemma’s second year is walking into the team box.
‘Noooo,’ says Kai, as the reality sinks in.
It’s Carter and his level 4 boar who have been entered into the arena in the first round.
Jinx arches his back and hisses. I know exactly how he feels.
‘I thought you said first years couldn’t fight in the battles,’ I say to Tobias.
‘They can’t,’ he says. ‘Well, they can’t unless one of the other team members volunteers to step down, which basically never happens . . .’
‘Or they were forced to back down,’ I say, raising one of my eyebrows.
‘Or that,’ Tobias concedes.
I feel my throat tighten at the thought of Jupiter going up against Hunter. Carter’s not exactly the type of guy to go easy in competition. I know that all too well.
River stares at me with wide eyes, then clasps me on the shoulder. ‘I’m glad we’ve got you on our team instead. I would not have stepped down.’
‘Instead?’ I ask, frowning. River shrugs, and before I can question him, a fanfare of music begins.
‘She really is going to get murdered,’ mutters Kai.
Tobias doesn’t respond, but a sheen of sweat on his brow speaks volumes.
I don’t have any more time to process. After the music, the competitors are lifted up into the arena. Swept up in the action, I cry out, ‘Go Ashley! Go Jupiter!’
She turns to the team box and gives us a thumbs up. But even from here, I can see that she’s shaking, her knees unsteady, her feet shuffling on the silver pads. Carter, by contrast, looks way too confident. Having a baku that’s a full level higher than the others on the playing field will do that.
‘You just have to last thirty minutes,’ I mutter to Ashley, even though I know she can’t hear me. But I bet thirty minutes feels like a lifetime in that arena.
And the battle begins.
It’s a fast-paced, frenzied start. Like Ashley, Team Dorian’s player – a second year called Wayne, with a bulldog baku – is also on the defensive, trying to protect as much of his baku’s functionality as possible to last out the thirty minutes.
Others, like Carter from Team Gemma, go in hardcore, attempting to inflict as much damage as possible on the other opponents to try and make them as difficult to repair as possible. Those silv
er tusks look extra dangerous in that arena, as if he had sharpened them specifically for the purpose of inflicting maximum damage and pain. Jupiter, by contrast, looks so small, so domestic and tame, in the arena.
Tobias switches for a more aggressive strategy as the battlefield narrows. He pushes Ashley to in turn push her baku to the very limit, not allowing her to let up until the thirty minutes are up and there is only one other baku left.
Carter’s.
I clutch Jinx’s little paws, even as he attempts to crawl out from beneath my fierce grip.
>>She’s a goner.
But we’ll fix her.
>>You think that’s a good idea?
Why wouldn’t it be?
Jinx says something but I don’t hear it – my eyes are transfixed by the sight of Hunter rocketing towards Jupiter at lightning speed. Ashley just isn’t quick enough. The two bakus connect and the crunching sound is excruciating. Jupiter is thrown almost the full length of the arena, smashing into the curved wall underneath us, ricocheting around the outside wall like a pinball. Carter pumps his fist, triumphant.
‘Giving up, Ashley? Your poor doggie is almost out,’ he says, his tone full of swagger. He’s right – Jupiter’s stats are now at 15%. She could forfeit now. ‘Go on, put her out of her misery.’
Ashley stares from Hunter to Jupiter. Her baku is attempting to stand up even though one of her legs is twisted so it’s pointing backwards, and part of her wiring is trailing on the floor. Even though everyone knows that she feels no pain, has no awareness, it is gut-wrenching to watch. Maybe it’s Ashley’s face that makes it worse. She’s even paler than she was before – I didn’t think that was possible – her face ashen, with a sickly sheen from sweat, worry and adrenaline. She looks as if she wants to forfeit the battle. Her eyes flick to Tobias in the team box, who is speaking furiously to Aero. The eagle is presumably transmitting the message to Ashley, for only her to hear. And I can see in Tobias’s eyes that he wants her to continue. There’s only a few minutes left on the clock. If Ashley can hold out then she will have won us a share of the remaining points.
I bite my nails, chewing down the quick. I can’t believe Tobias is making her continue – he should pull her now and give us a better chance of fixing her for tomorrow morning. I try to catch his eye, but his focus is laser-like on Ashley.
Ashley closes her eyes for a beat, and when she opens them again, she is filled with determination. ‘You can do this,’ I whisper to her. My fists are balled into tight fists at my side, as I will her every ounce of luck I can spare.
Carter rolls his eyes. ‘Seriously? Come on, Hunter, let’s finish this baku off.’
The roar in the room rises to a frenzied level, students shouting and jeering both competitors equally. There’s dismay that Ashley is continuing, and a loud chorus of people telling her to give up.
Hunter stalks around the circle, surprisingly graceful for a machine that looks like a boar. My mind drifts off as I imagine what sort of person would voluntarily choose a baku shaped like that, and I almost miss the key moment when he goes in for the kill.
Because when it happens, it’s rapid and brutal. Hunter still has full freedom of movement, his head swaying with the weight of his tusks, his legs nimble, whereas every command Ashley sends to Jupiter takes a few seconds too long to reach him – a vital receiver must be damaged, and so she can’t respond quick enough. When the blow comes, it ravishes Jupiter. The boar’s tusks rip through the already exposed electrics of the dog baku’s central core, ripping through the ‘brain’, which – just like in Jinx’s schematics – is located in her stomach.
‘Good luck fixing this piece of junk,’ Carter shouts. And, as if to make his point even stronger, Hunter shakes his head and – with a second to spare – sends the two halves of the robotic spaniel spinning across the arena and colliding with opposite sides of the wall.
Down in her circle, Ashley cries out. I feel every ounce of her pain. The thought of something like that happening to Jinx . . .
I take him up in my arms and squeeze him against my chest. He’s not a robot to me. He’s my companion.
The whistle sounds, signalling the end of the battle. Mr Baird stands up in the centre of the arena. ‘The winner of the first round of Baku Battles is Carter and his baku, Hunter. Gemma’s team are awarded one hundred points.’
He turns to the team box. ‘Other teams, you have until the first assembly bell tomorrow to attempt to fix your eliminated bakus, in order to split the winning round total of one hundred points with Team Gemma. If the baku isn’t at least 90% functional, however, your loss this round will be confirmed.’ Even he sounds dubious at the prospect of any of the bakus rising to fight again.
Ashley’s face looks distraught, clutching the remains of Jupiter.
Tobias looks sick, seeing his strategy fail and the points slip away.
It’s not the end yet. If we can fix Ashley’s baku, we can get the team back on track. But even with Profectus’s state-of-the-art facilities, I know there’s one place that will give us a better shot – and we can work there all through the night.
I just have to convince the team to trust me.
‘THIS IS PERFECT,’ SAYS KAI, AND I SMILE. I wonder if he’s finally warming to me – even though I have no idea what I did to get on his bad side to begin with. But then he sneers at the entrance to my building. ‘No one is going to spy on us in this crappy place. People actually live here?’
‘I do,’ I say through gritted teeth. I bristle. It’s not that bad. It might be a bit boring and functional – an uninspired condo block of concrete and tinted glass, but it’s not dirty or falling down.
‘Kai, that’s enough,’ says Tobias.
‘What?’ He shrugs. ‘I was trying to say it’s a good thing for our team. You can bet Team Gemma aren’t working somewhere so . . .’
The elevator doors ping, and he doesn’t finish his sentence.
Ashley shivers. Since Jupiter’s battle, she’s seemed like a shell of her former, bubbly self.
Watching the four of them step into the elevator to the basement, I can’t believe I’ve brought them here. To my sanctuary. My companioneering haven.
Mom is delighted I’m bringing back friends from school. I haven’t the heart to tell her that this isn’t exactly the start of a busy social life for me.
It’s an emergency.
Jupiter is in pieces. Ashley carries the remains in her arms, her cheeks damp with tears. The absolute annihilation she experienced in her Baku Battle would have been enough to scar me for life – I have no idea how she’s even standing upright.
And what makes it even worse is that Carter is the cause. He and that awful boar of his, that snuffling, snarling beast. I’ve never wanted a baku to be put in its place before, but I’d like to see that thing put down. I am willing to do anything to make sure that Carter isn’t a reason that his team ends up on top. He hasn’t won yet.
>>Yeah right, as if it isn’t the physiological changes in your body I witness when in close proximity to Tobias Washington that aren’t the real reason you keep allowing him to use your skills - and your private lab.
I cringe. Jinx knows too much for his own good. And he seems to be getting smarter. Just last night, I was working on my French homework when I started hearing his voice in my head, translating for me. I had to tell him to stop – if the Academy found out, I’d be expelled for cheating for sure. Bakus aren’t supposed to do anything like that unless specifically commanded. I add it to the list of things I need to check in Jinx’s code – if my other work ever lets up and I have a spare moment to squeeze it in.
I worry every day about slipping up and revealing that Jinx is no ordinary baku. But so far, the team haven’t seemed to notice that Jinx is any different. And that’s how I want it to stay.
With five people and five bakus crammed into the tiny storage locker, space is tight. River leaps up on to the desk with his oversized frog baku mimicking him by sitting with his knees up
. He’s like a contortionist, able to squeeze himself into the most unlikely places – as if he’s more comfortable being uncomfortable. I don’t know what that says about him.
Tobias leads Ashley in, and sits her down on my chair.
‘So, what are we doing here?’ Kai asks, his hands on his hips. Oka, his husky baku, paces underfoot. Kai tries to take up the biggest amount of space in the room, his chest puffed out like a frigatebird from the Galapagos.
‘We need a share of the points if we’re going to have any chance of winning the Baku Battles,’ says Tobias. ‘And that means, we have to fix Jupiter. I think Lacey here can do it.’
‘Uh, have you seen that baku? It’s scrap metal!’ cries Kai, picking up a piece of Jupiter that has dropped out of Ashley’s arms and on to the floor, wielding it as a prime example of what he means. ‘Not even the best Moncha companioneer could fix this pile of garbage. Look, Tobias, my man, we shouldn’t be worrying about how to fix this,’ he gestures to the mess in Ashley’s arms, and she whimpers, ‘but planning our next round attack strategy. Like how that freaky dude,’ he points at River, ‘and I are going to stand a chance in the next round. Especially as Gemma is going to have three bakus to our two, so we’ll still have that boar to contend with. That is not the kind of baku you expect a first year to have.’
That’s right. I’d forgotten that since Carter survived this round of Baku Battles, that means Gemma’s team will have an additional advantage next time around. No wonder Tobias is desperate. I can see how the first win for Gemma could snowball until catching her up becomes an impossibility.
‘You and I should go in there together,’ says Kai to Tobias. ‘It could be a good strategy.’ His husky growls in hungry anticipation. ‘Oka will eat up that pig in one bite. Everyone else will be entering their next lowest level baku. We can knock them out, then send in the frog-man to take on the last level. With any luck, Oka and Aero will survive all the way to the end. Then . . .’ He flares out his hand like he’s dropping a bomb. ‘BOOM. Winners.’
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