by C J Timms
Tangerinous waved her hand, ‘Nonsense, the increased number means there are plenty of eyes watching. My security is impenetrable.’
‘You have a creche on your command deck.’ Spur raised an eyebrow.
Tangerinous rolled her eyes. ‘We are a family-friendly enterprise. The creche locks down with an impenetrable seal at the earliest sign of danger. Move with the times Spur. You don’t want to become as outdated as your textbook.’
Grace coughed to cover a chuckle. Spur clenched his jaw.
Tangerinous sat down and tucked into her paleo bowl. Spur took a black coffee from the tray, no food and joined her. He flicked his eyes up at her, tilting his head ever so slightly. Oh right, she thought.
‘Where is the bathroom?’ Grace asked.
Tangerinous pointed down the hallway. ‘Down two floors, you’ll see it marked out.’
Grace slipped away. Time to see what was going on here.
Grace wandered the halls, looking for something. A breach in security, a suspicious-looking employee, find anything had been Spur’s instructions. The old grump had told her to cover her long absence by claiming she had irritable bowel syndrome. In fairness, this was a pretty good cover. A fairly common condition, people didn’t want to ask too many questions about it, and any evidence was flushed away.
She was jarred out of her ramblings when a crewman bumped into her and jammed something into her hand.
‘From a friend.’ He whispered and rushed off.
‘Hey, wait.’ Said Grace, chasing the man around the corner. Where he had promptly disappeared, what had his features been? Brown hair, right? Or had it been blonde? She cursed her inattention to her surroundings. She instead turned to the packet in her hand.
A brown postal packet, without writing or markings. Could it be a toxin or a bomb? She reached her hand back to the pod on her back, then remembered Jason was in the creche upstairs. She looked both ways down the empty corridor.
Her curiosity had always been a weakness.
She cracked the envelope slowly, peeking in at the contents, a stack of A4 sheets of paper with the seal of the College. Grace reached in and pulled the first one out. Her eyes narrowed.
‘What the frak?’
‘The Unbroken have been seen in the city, buying up strange components through back channels. This is a prime target.’ Spur said.
Tangerinous sniffed, ‘Let them come. They will not stop change.’
‘Damnit Jacqui you are putting us all at risk, where was this boldness when it counted.’ Spur said.
‘I’m making it count now.’ Tangerinous jabbed her finger into Spur’s chest. Spur’s eyes lit up, and his hands twitched, ready for combat.
Grace barged in and threw the packet of documents at Spur’s chest. ‘What the frak did you do?’
Spur held the documents and looked through them. His eyes dropped to the floor of the command deck. Spur ran a hand through his hair. ‘I followed the rules, Grace.’
Grace grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, ‘Frak the rules. I’m your family. I came to you when I needed help.’
Spur looked down, ‘You got help.’
‘They kicked me off the training program! All I needed was to talk to a psychologist and work through some stress. I trusted you to pick me up when I was down, not kick me in the guts.’ Grace said baring her teeth.
‘What is this Spur?’ Tangerinous said, bending down to pick up one of the documents. ‘A mental health assessment?’
Spur kept his eyes down. ‘I did it to keep you safe. You know the rules, a fracturesmith is not allowed into combat if they are depressed.’
‘Go frak yourself. Do you think half of the people we work with haven’t had a mental health issue? Stress, anxiety, depression, they come with being worked like a dog and fighting monsters! You judgmental knobhead.’ Grace shoved him away and began scooping up the scattered documents. The cat was out of the bag now. Who would hire her with this history?
A hand settled on Grace’s shoulder. ‘I have a post open. You are not as alone as you might think. Come work for me on the Oceanus.’ Tangerinous said.
Spur frowned. ‘We still have a job to do Grace. Your past is behind us. You have a job to do. Come with me.’
Grace looked from her uncle, who'd helped raise her to the creche where Jason played comfortably. A job where she could be both a mom and a fracturesmith. Where would she find that again?
‘You shouldn’t have taught me how to track monsters, uncle. You never know where you’ll find them hiding.’
Two of Charlemagne’s elite guards, stepped forward to take Spur by the arms. Spur brushed them off and turned to leave. Spur paused as he walked past her.
‘Grace, please?’ He whispered.
Grace turned away.
Gale - Fatigue
Wytchhunter and Royalforged came to blows, as brother fought brother, the nine Noble Knights broke faith. Canute’s children splintered and the world entered the Redox.
From the Journal of Grimace the Heretic.
Vibrant colours splayed over the Sydney Opera House, a beacon in the night. Gale stumbled, the scalloped roof made a slippery slope. Gale forced Script through his feet to keep his balance, windmilling his arms. He flung his head from side to side, scanning the roof of the Opera House for his opponent.
A winged wombat like creature swooped him. The Raucor emitted maddening laughter. Gale dropped his harpoon and clapped his hands to his ears. They came away with blood. The Raucor darted off with a cackle, teleporting through the air, moving faster then its bulk should ever have allowed. It hovered in the air and slapped its thighs, cackling. Gale gritted his teeth, pulled a series of short-nails from his pack and rushed at it.
Multicoloured parrots with two heads surrounded him in a screeching swarm. They clamoured for his attention, bright lights flashing and blinding him. They took on voices from school, teachers old and new.
‘Outcast.’
‘Trenchwalker.’
‘Not, not, not.’
‘Failure, failure, failure.’
Raucors and Caucors, Gale thought, they were a frakking pain in the ass. No wonder Tangentius users were so rare. The Raucors and Caucors had been called by the Opera House's music combining with the Vivid light festival. The Vivid festival lit up the whole harbour in yellow, pinks and blues. A giant long-limbed water strider, the size of a house, skated across the harbour. Multicoloured lights and Penumbra rolled off it.
Nearby, Yip was in a near-catatonic state, a sensory overload of sound and light, leaving him curled in the fetal position. Gale’s head throbbed, too many late nights and lack of sleep pulled at his focus.
They still would struggle to pay rent.
This pager call out was supposed to be easy, a low tier cat three. ‘Money in the bank,’ Swan had said. He’d only brought Swan and Yip. They’d started splitting the pager call outs, to try to get more sleep individually. He hated trying to work with Swan and Yip as a team. The beacons theft from the Lighthouse had only made things worse.
A Raucor appeared near his head, Gale lashed out with the harpoon and knocked it down. He clipped Swan’s hair in the process. She shot him a frustrated look, and he didn’t even bother to bring out the swear jar.
‘Yip, get your ass up.’ Swan yelled. She liquefied the Slagblade. Liquid metal streams shot out and pinned down the flock. Gale cracked a vial of Griprock plaster and rushed in. He threw casts at the immobilised Caucors, using the water in the mixture to weave it around him. The Caucors twisted in place but were fixed, the Gri hardening. Swan covered him and fought through a swarm of the Raucors. Gale swore he could see a silvery bird flitting amongst them. He shook his head, and it was gone. Probably the lack of sleep catching up to him.
‘Yip, up and at em mate.’ Gale yelled.
Yip pushed himself to a crouch and threw out a short nail. It missed the Caucor, clanged off Swan’s armour, and she fell onto her arse. Another Raucor appeared in front of Gale and let out an ear-bendi
ng scream.
The frustration broke something in Gale. Water erupted from the harbour, it surged upwards and swallowed the flock in bubbles. Gale gripped his fist and cracked them back into their reality. He fell to the ground, his skin burning from overuse of his Script.
Blissful silence filled the night air.
‘Frak you Yip, learn to aim.’ Swan said between gasped breaths.
‘You shouldn’t have been there, we’ve practised this manoeuvre before. I calculated exactly where you should be.’ Yip sniped back.
‘Bullshit your numbers were just off.’ Swan yelled back at him.
‘My numbers are never off!’
‘Can we have this fight after sleep?’ Gale interrupted. Dawn was creeping over the harbour. ‘I have a double list with Prof Wrank today.’
‘Fine,’ Swan said.
Things were not fine.
Yip pushed himself to stand and pulled the radio earpiece from his ear. He tapped it and shrugged his shoulders, scratching the back of his head. ‘I’ll tweak the communicators to protect us from sound attacks.’
Yip went over to a fading ghost of a Raucor. Deep Script swirled around it, and Yip tapped it with a nail. ‘How did you seal them back without fixation nails Gale?’ An orbiting library of ledgers swarmed Gale and the reality fractures. ‘These weren’t even from the Deep. They were from Tangentius, the mind realm.’
Gale shrugged, he was too tired to care.
‘Frak me, Yip, why look a gift horse in the mouth. We don’t know squat about Deep Script, just be grateful it happened. With this money, we might just be able to pay the fee to sit the final exam for the year. Fight the Battle Royale, paying for the honour of crushing our colleagues under our feet.’
Yip’s ledgers faltered just a bit in their orbits, and he turned to the side. Yip looked over at the giant water strider skating around Sydney harbour.
‘Should we get that?’ Yip asked. ‘I don’t think it's going to harm anyone. Maybe.’
‘Frak it, Swan said, ‘It wasn’t on the call out, we won’t get paid for it. Cat three my butt.’
‘Frak it, not our problem,’ said Gale. ‘I want to sleep.’
One foot after the other, head bowed, Gale trudged back across the island. Just a hint of predawn light crested the horizon, his warm bed just out or each. The light touched the edge of the Splinterpoint Gate, its pieces constantly grinding away. Gale grimaced, it hadn’t just been Hotaru who’d emerged scarred. No house had survived the test intact.
Swan trudged ahead of him back to the Lighthouse. Yip however hesitated with him.
‘That thing chews up students and spits them back out.’ Yip said.
‘Its a tool, it's not evil, it offers opportunity and risk.’ Gale said.
‘Any opportunity.’ Yip muttered.
They stared up at the gate that offered so many choices, so many opportunities. Beyond it, worlds beyond imagining and possibilities undreamed of. Infinite chance. All you had to do was survive.
‘I went and saw Bella.’ Gale said. ‘Tried to find Hotaru but she’d been sent home to Wyldfell. Bella didn’t look good. I’m worried she’ll fall.’
‘Pick yourself up first Gale.’ Yip said. ‘If she falls, that’s one less person to fight at the end. Only fifty of us are getting through this year.’
Gale looked over at Yip, stunned at the coldness, the dull voice, brutality wrapped in numbness.
‘You lot are just lucky we’re on the same team. Otherwise I’d wipe you all out first.’ Yip said, turned his head slowly, then cracked a grin. ‘You gotta take every opportunity you know.’
Gale rolled his eyes. ‘Good luck mate, you’d never get the drop on me.’
Yip shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m not a monster Gale, but I don’t have the emotional reserves to worry about everyone. It's taking what I’ve got to avoid burning out. I’ve got to put myself first so I can help others later.’
Gale nodded. He saw dried blood by Yips ears where the Caucors had assaulted him. Yip’s small frame had a slight shake to it.
Gale looked to the gate once more. ‘We’re running out of steam, aren’t we?’
Yip nodded, eyes drifting to Swan’s departing back. ‘Watch Swan, if anyone stole the beacon from the Lighthouse…well her word is only as good as gold.’
‘Swan has our backs. You’ve gotta learn to trust her or we won’t survive the Battle Royale.’ Gale said.
Yip looked down at his feet. ‘Alright Gale, I’m not so good at figuring people out, but if you trust her…that’ll do me…for now.’
They moved on, picking up their trudge to a fast stumble to catch up with Swan. They were a team, after all.
Gale pushed through the Lighthouse door. Under the arch and its line, ‘Any man worth his salt.’
‘How’d it go?’ Titus asked.
‘Swan…did you do something with your hair?’ Sterling asked.
Swan threw the pager at Sterling who snagged it from the air.
‘Well that sucked’ Gale said.
‘Would you say it was…’ Titus began.
‘Don’t say it, Titus.’ Gale cut him off.
‘Character building.’ Titus finished with two thumbs up. Gale tackled him to the ground.
The pager began buzzing. They all stared at it, like a wasps nest that had been poked. Swan raised the slagblade, and she swung it down on the pager. Yip caught the blow as it descended, wiry strength in his grip. Swan raised an eyebrow and chuckled.
‘MASTER KNOTT,’ yelled Professor Giltynan standing in the entrance to the Lighthouse.
Ah, a perfect morning.
‘A pager! First years are taking good people’s money for on-call jobs. Without the qualifications, without the approval, without the training!’ Giltynan marched back and forth, throwing his hands around in the air. ‘It's just lucky for everyone that I was auditing the budgets and found this….mistake.’
‘We did alright, fixed the stuff didn’t we.’ Titus said.
‘You are just lucky no one died, or worse made a complaint.’ Giltynan roared at Titus. ‘Frakking untrained first years I wouldn’t trust to mix plaster.’
Giltynan stared at each of them in turn. ‘The Trenchwalker, the Volkstormer, the bogan knight and the clumsy Swan. It looks like we’ll just have to kick you out.’ He smirked.
‘What!’ Swan screamed and jumped forwards. Gale grabbed her and sat her back down.
Gale coughed into his hand. ‘See about that, sir. Might lead to some questions that. Why, people might ask what it was for. Stories might get out. Stories about how the smiths are strained thin, how the students have to do the jobs. People might start questioning, might start paying less. Sending their kids to other schools.’
Giltynan growled.
‘Also we’re owed payment for the last call-out.’ Yip said.
‘Payment? Ha…first years should be honoured, privileged to attend fracture call outs. No, Master Knott, you will not be paid for this call out. And as for these other call-outs you’ve attended. I think repaying them with 10% interest should be appropriate. If anything, you are lucky I don’t make you pay me for the chance to learn. A chance to do some good for your community. Blood sweat and tears, a noble bit of sacrifice for the greater good.’
‘We need money to pay the rent.’ Gale said through gritted teeth. ‘You’re asking us to come up with enough money to pay three Semesters fees in two weeks.’
‘You are being paid in experience, and all of this will be so good for your resume.’ Giltynan reached out to grab the pager from the floor.‘I will take that thankyou.’
Swan brought the Slagblade down in an overhead strike, and it shattered into a thousand pieces.
‘Ooops…how clumsy of me.’ Swan said.
‘How did he find out,’ Swan slammed a fist down on the table.
‘Dickhead superpowers? Don’t know. Doesn’t matter.’ Gale said. Internally he cursed, there was no reason for Giltynan to have just been auditing the numbers, no, some
one had tipped him off. But who?
‘It doesn’t matter?’ spluttered Swan. ‘Haven’t you learned anything this year, Gale. To them, gold is the only thing that matters.’
‘We did help a few people out,’ Titus said, ‘That’s something right? It wasn’t just about money.’
Titus was right. They had helped a few people out, Crivenwix in Paramoura, the town of Glenrowan, Princess Fiore in Locomotyr, heck even the Vivid attendees. His mum would have liked that. She would have wanted him to help people. Do some good. Her and dad weren’t here to see this, though.
Maybe if they’d helped themselves more, they would be.
Doing good wasn’t going to stop him getting grafted though. He shuddered. No, for that, only cold hard coin would do.
‘We’ve been runnin around crazy like, I’m flat out like a lizard drinking. I’m not just exhausted, I’m knackered.’ said Titus.
‘How much have we got?’ Sterling asked, his eyes locked on Shackleton and poked him in the chest. Shackleton now had the build of a troll, far more massive then they’d ever seen. Bigger then Titus and arms like tree trunks. Shackleton smiled and poked Sterling back, knocking him on his butt. Maybe they could hire out Shackleton for manual labour.
‘We can scrape together rent. No chance of paying the semester fees though.’ Gale said. ‘Gibraltar hasn’t told Giltynan or anyone else about our little arrangement for fees. Don’t think we’ll have enough to do anything else, though. No winter formal.’
‘Shame,’ Titus muttered, ‘The Bookwyrm wanted me to escort her to the winter formal. It's supposed to be a real fancy do.’
A glum mood sunk into the room, it festered, like an abscess hidden under a bandaid. Just waiting for someone to lance it.
‘On the plus side, though, no more on-call.’ Gale grinned. A faint grin graced all of their faces.