by Ryk Brown
“You’re doing pretty good for a guy who’s been dead for seven years,” Jessica teased. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” Nathan replied between blows.
“Think you can handle faster?”
“Hell yes,” Nathan insisted, although he wasn’t entirely certain it was a good idea.
“Increase rate of attack,” Jessica instructed the machine again.
“Increasing rate of attack.”
The rate of attacks on Nathan’s body increased yet again. The blows were now coming at a rate of one per second. Jab to the face, which Nathan leaned back and away from. A right cross, followed by a left uppercut and a left knee jab, then two repeated attempts at the midsection followed by a left cross, all of which Nathan either blocked or avoided. And still, he managed to get in one or two blows in the process.
As he defended himself, Nathan realized something. He wasn’t really looking at the machine any longer. Yet, he was still seeing its padded mechanical arms, reaching out to strike him, from different angles and directions…in his mind.
As the machine reached the end of its pattern cycle, Nathan closed his eyes and continued defending himself. Jab to the face, right cross, left uppercut, left knee jab, jabs to the gut…each of them countered perfectly; with his eyes closed.
An overwhelming feeling of confidence washed over him, as he began sneaking blows into the machine’s various strike pads between nearly every attack the machine launched at him…still with both eyes closed.
Jessica noticed Nathan’s sudden improvement, as well as his closed eyes, and walked around to the machine’s control pad as it continued repeating the attack sequence. Without saying a word, she reached out and touched the control pad, increasing the rate of attack, without warning him.
But Nathan heard the faint beep of the control pad, even though it was masked by the whirring of the machine’s servos and hydraulics. He felt the rhythm of the attacks increase in speed, and he matched it. The first cycle, he defended only, still with his eyes closed. But by the next cycle, he began striking back again, and with more force than before.
Another thing surprised Nathan this time. He was huffing and puffing, as expected. After all, he had only been alive for a little over a day now, so he was expected to be a bit out of shape. But he was calm. In fact, he felt incredibly calm. It was almost a dance to him. Stepping back and forth, as his arms moved in rhythmic fashion to counter the mechanical appendages of his attacker.
“Faster!” Nathan demanded, finding an unexpected pleasure in the simulated combat dance that he was engaged in with his mechanical dance partner.
Jessica stepped up to the machine again, increasing its rate of attack once again. Only this time, she added a few more twists.
The mechanical attacks were now coming at a rate of two to three per second, yet Nathan was still able to defend himself, and his eyes were still closed. He wasn’t landing any blows himself, but he was still poised and relaxed…until it happened.
The machine suddenly changed its rhythm, firing two lightening fast blows to the gut, the second of which Nathan failed to block. Without pause, the machine returned to what Nathan thought was the beginning of its sequence again, and he raised his hands to block what he expected to be a jab to the face, followed by a right cross.
But that’s not what he got.
The next blow came as an uppercut that caught him in the chin, causing him to stumble backward, out of the machine’s attack reach.
“Pausing session,” the machine announced, its arms retracting.
Nathan’s eyes were open now. He knew it wasn’t true, but he almost felt as if the machine had just mocked him with its tone. He looked at Jessica, who was smiling, obviously happy with herself. “So that’s how we’re playing it?”
“I promised to give you a workout, didn’t I?” Jessica replied. “So, do you want a workout, or do you want to just keep on dancing with Battling Betty here?”
Nathan didn’t respond. He stepped forward, moving into the machine’s range once again. After assuming a combat stance, he called out. “Ready.”
Betty launched another attack, this time throwing rapid combinations, never repeating a single sequence. Nathan defended himself admirably, albeit with eyes wide open. After a few minutes of getting pounded, he began to see a pattern to Betty’s attack. Every combination came in either two, three, or four blows, but never the same number in a combination twice in a row. And the number of blows in each combination increased with each new round, until reaching four, at which point it would go back to two. The randomness was in what single blows Betty would launch in between the combinations, and eventually, he began to see patterns in that as well.
Now, he was beginning to land his own blows again, and the number of Betty’s successful attempts to make contact with his body began to decrease.
Again, Jessica moved into the control panel and changed the settings. At first, Nathan thought she had just turned up the speed again, but he quickly realized she had changed the settings to make Betty’s attack be completely random. Now, half of the attacks were finding their targets on Nathan’s body, while Nathan himself was barely able to get any decent blows in.
In short, Betty was kicking his ass.
After several minutes, Nathan stepped backward, stumbling as he tried to regain his balance. “Enough!” he declared, panting heavily.
“End session,” Jessica instructed.
“Session ended,” Betty replied, retracting her padded arms to her sides again.
Nathan stared at Betty’s faceless form. It barely resembled a human, even with the most active of imaginations. Yet, he could swear he saw a smug look on the machine’s blank, red, head-height strike pad. “I’ll get you next time, bitch,” Nathan panted, before turning away and bending over to catch his breath.
“Don’t feel too bad,” Jessica said, sounding quite amused. “You’re not the first man to get a beat down by Betty.”
“Has she always been on this ship?” Nathan asked, still hunched over and panting.
“Since launch,” Jessica assured him. “I used to train with her daily back then. She’s too easy to be of use to me now.”
Nathan looked at her, shocked. “Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“What the hell have the Ghatazhak been feeding you?”
“Just really good training,” Jessica replied. “Not only physical, but mental as well. That’s why I had Betty use patterns at first. I wanted to see if you’d recognize them…and you did.”
“Is that a shock?”
“Many people never find the patterns,” Jessica replied. “I expected you to, but I didn’t expect you to do it that quickly. And the eyes closed thing…now that was impressive.”
“Thanks.” Nathan finally stood up straight, moving over to pick up his water bottle. He took a long drink. “It was weird. I could see her swinging, in my head. It’s like a memorized video I had seen, or something.”
“Were you always able to do that?”
“I don’t think so,” Nathan replied. “I mean, I’ve always had a better than average memory, but this was so clear.”
“Interesting,” Jessica replied. She tossed a towel to him. “You ready for more?”
“Of Betty?”
“Nope.” Jessica got a mischievous smile on her face. “I’ve got a few other surprises lined up for you.”
“I see,” Nathan replied, wiping the sweat from his head and face. “I think you’re enjoying this too much.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Robert Nash stepped off the shuttle wearing civilian attire for the first time in months. He paused a moment to take in the air of Kohara, breathing in deep, feeling the sun on his face. The air might not have been fresh, given that he was standing on the tarmac of one
of the busiest spaceports in the Tau Ceti system. But it was real air, not the purified, sterilized, temperature and humidity controlled air that he breathed, day in and day out, aboard the Tanna.
Robert envied Gil Roselle, the captain of the captured Jung battleship, Jar-Benakh, now known simply as the Benakh. Being stationed in the Tau Ceti system meant he had access to the surface on a regular basis. Such visits were rare for Robert Nash. Destroyers spent most of their time on patrol, ready to respond the moment a Cobra gunship reported a contact. The planet-side visits he managed were few, far between, and usually short-lived.
It had taken him three shuttles to get to Kohara, but it was necessary to cover any trace of his visit. Had he flown in directly from the Tanna to the military terminal at the Kohara spaceport, Fleet Command would have known of his visit, and that the Tanna had veered from its assigned patrol route, within a few hours. He had, on occasion, used his command authority to change his routing, but it involved additional reports and explanations, which would bring additional scrutiny. Considering the nature of the message he had received from Captain Taylor, additional scrutiny was the last thing he needed.
After leaving the Koharan spaceport, Robert took a train around the far side of the lake, to a lakeside resort town named Loressigo. He had arrived just after sunset and, having spent the last few hours traveling, he was ready to eat. Luckily, dinner was the first item on his agenda.
Robert walked along the shore away from the train station, arriving at the small restaurant overlooking the harbor.
“Good evening, sir,” the woman at the counter greeted him cheerfully. “Dining alone?”
“I’m meeting someone,” Robert replied. “An old friend. Older gentleman. Shorter, graying hair, angry looking?”
The woman nodded. “Oh yes. He is on the patio.”
“Thank you.” Robert made his way through the tiny dining room and out onto the spacious patio. At the furthest table from the door, all the way out along the far rail, he spotted his friend.
“Gil,” Robert greeted him, walking up to the table.
Gil Roselle rose from the table, shaking Robert’s hand before sitting down again. “Good to see you again, Robert. Though, I gotta say I was surprised that you asked to meet me…especially here.”
“I figured since you have a boat here in Loressigo, you’d know of this place.”
“Shari and I eat here all the time,” Gil replied. “Great doray fish.”
“So, she’s still putting up with your gruff old ass?” Robert joked, as he picked up the digital menu pad, and began scrolling through the selections.
“Barely.”
“She still trying to get you to retire and settle down?”
“Yup, but I’m holding my ground. I keep telling her that I’d retire tomorrow if she’ll agree to live on the boat with me, but she’s standing her ground about living in the city.”
“You’re going to have to give in, sooner or later, Gil. Shari’s too hot for you to pass up, you know that.”
“What are you trying to say? You calling me ugly?”
“No, I’m calling you butt-ugly,” Robert joked.
“That’s better,” Gil replied, motioning to the waiter. “Two doray plates, and a couple stouts.”
“I’m not so sure I’m in the mood for fish,” Robert objected.
“You’re sitting on a patio overlooking a lake full of the damned things, Robert. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
The waiter returned promptly with two tall glasses of beer, placing them on the table.
“I’m technically still on duty, you know,” Robert said, as he picked up his beer.
“You’re on leave, aren’t you?” When Robert didn’t respond, Gill realized something was different. “What the fuck, Robert. What the hell’s going on?”
Robert sighed. “I’ve known you for a long time, Gil. You and I, we’re part of a dying breed in this Alliance.”
“You got that right,” Gil agreed.
“How well do you know Galiardi?” Robert asked.
“Well enough to know I don’t like him much.” Gil took another sip of his beer. “Don’t get me wrong, the man’s a brilliant strategist. The problem is, he knows it, and it tends to go to his head. Typical brass, really. Doesn’t believe he can do anything wrong.” Gil studied his friend for a moment. “Why do you ask?”
Robert sighed, thinking a moment. “I can trust you, right?”
“What kind of a fucking question is that for you to ask me?” Gil retorted, annoyed.
“Sorry, but I have to ask.”
“Yeah, Robert. You can trust me. Besides, I’m probably going to give in and make Shari an honest woman pretty soon anyway. So spit it out.”
“I got a message yesterday.”
“From who?” Gil wondered.
“Cameron Taylor.”
“Why’d she contact you?”
“She wanted me to know the truth, in case something happened.”
Gil looked confused. “The truth about what? In case what happens?”
“She split, Gil. She violated orders, took the Aurora, and headed for the Pentaurus Cluster.”
Gil’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“God’s truth.”
“What the hell…” Gil shook his head in disbelief. “Has she lost it?”
“She had a pretty good reason, Gil,” Robert said.
“To toss her career down the shitter? Hell, if she makes it back alive, she’ll likely spend the rest of her life in prison, assuming she isn’t executed for treason.”
“How is it treason, Gil?”
“Trust me, Galiardi will find a way. What reason could she possibly have that would justify a bonehead move like that?”
Robert stared at Gil, unsure if he should tell him the truth or not.
“What?”
Truth was, he didn’t have much choice. Robert still had no idea what he was going to do, or if he was going to do anything at all. One thing was for sure, though. He needed someone to talk this through with, and Gil Roselle was the only person he could think of who had the balls to keep such knowledge to himself.
“You’re making me nervous, Robert,” Gil said, wondering why his friend was staring at him. “Are you going to tell me, or what?”
Robert took a deep breath, then blurted out the truth. “Nathan Scott is alive, and is leading the Karuzari against the Dusahn forces in the Pentaurus cluster. Taylor took the Aurora there to help him.”
“Scott is alive?”
“Yup.”
“No bullshit?”
“No bullshit.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s how I felt.”
“Fuck.”
“You said that, Gil.”
“F-u-u-uck.” Gil leaned back in his chair. “Man, I have about a million questions.”
“You and me both.”
“He’s going to take them on by himself?”
“I don’t really know. All I do know is that my sister and the Ghatazhak are with him, as well as Hayes and Sheehan. And Deliza Ta’Akar is funding them.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“You know any other words, there, Gil?”
“Sorry, but this is pretty fucking mind blowing.”
“Tell me about it. Here’s the kicker. Taylor thinks Galiardi is up to something. Says he’s not telling us everything.”
“Like what?”
“Like the Dusahn have said they aren’t part of the Jung Empire… That they’re acting on their own.”
Now Gil was starting to become concerned. “I had a feeling,” he said, shaking his head. “Things just weren’t adding up, you know?”
&n
bsp; “I know,” Robert agreed. “You don’t think Galiardi would purposefully start a new war with the Jung, do you?”
“I think Galiardi will do whatever he believes is best for Galiardi. That’s what I think.”
“Even if it means the deaths of millions?”
“It’s all numbers when you’re at his level, Robert. You know that. Right is what gets you what you’re after.”
“The question is, what is he after?” Robert wondered.
“No. The question is, what are you going to do with this intel?” Gil asked.
Robert sighed. “I don’t really know.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” Gil said. “Nothing. That’s what you’re going to do. At least for now. We need more intel.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. You just dragged me into this. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“My pleasure.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“She is planning on sending a jump comm-drone in about a week. She gave me intercept coordinates. I’m assuming she’s planning on updating me once she learns more.”
“Good for her,” Gil said. “She’s thinking. She’s keeping the lines of communication open back home. Did she tell you to tell me?”
“Nope. That was my call.”
“I imagine she’s not going to be too happy about that.”
“I figure she probably expected it.”
“Could be right.” Gil took another drink of his beer, this time it was a long one. “Damn,” he said, placing his glass back down on the table. “Nathan Scott…alive. Why am I not more surprised?”
* * *
“Uh oh,” Josh mumbled, looking out the back of the Seiiki into the Aurora’s main hangar bay. “Looks like you’re about to get schooled, Dalen.”