by C J Timms
Gale had seen that name before, the ship from the Deep, the ship fixed in the sky. Blush had shown him that ship. What had she been trying to teach him? Should he trust her and spill his guts? Trusting was what had got him in deep with Ash.
On autopilot, Gale cleaned up the mess then sunk to the floor. Pancakes nudged Gales leg, and Gale scratched his head. ‘It’s alright Pancakes, its character building.’
The seahound quirked its head at him, then nodded. Pancakes coughed up a toy soldier onto the floor. The glorious space marine covered in a viscous mucous. A noble ending for a fallen soldier.
He’d leave that for Yip to clean.
Gale put his hands on his knees and shoved himself to standing. In the corner of his eye, he swore he saw the figurine Pancakes had coughed up move. He bent over and looked at the figure, now still as a statue. The figurine, clearly a she, was not dressed in space marine armour, she had a long black fringe, and a sword at her hip, dark robes were more reminiscent of dungeons and dragons than science fiction. Perhaps some sort of cleric?
Gale rubbed his temple. The stress was getting to him, and the lack of sleep.
Gale took the stairs slowly, taking deep breaths. He slumped into a chair in the kitchen. He picked up the frisbee again and spun it lazily on the armrest. Could they still do this? Everything was on the line, and they had to try at least.
‘Where’s Sterling, sleeping in?’ Titus said, around a mouthful of eggs.
‘He left.’
Titus stopped chewing, mouth half-open, egg dripped from his mouth to the table. ‘Sterlo chucked in the towel?’
‘We’re boned, Titus. Yips locked in the brig. Swans in there with him, even if she wanted to rejoin the Lighthouse. Now Sterling. We stand alone. With three I could make it work but with just two…’
Titus swallowed his mouthful of eggs. Slowly he stood and walked over to Gale’s side. A BBQ sauce stained hand rested Gale’s shoulder.
‘A man stands alone if he must, but today, I have your back.
She’ll be right.’
The stadium rose in front of Gale, the Hydroplaner thrown over his shoulder. He wished he’d had Swan make more of these. Titus was using Shackleton to pull a large windsurfer. Outside the entrance to their change room, a lone figure waited. For a brief moment, Gale thought it was Sterling, but it was Bella. Bella, who had saved their rear-ends on the monster hunt at the start of the year.
Bella, shoulders slumped, didn’t meet his eyes.‘Gale can I have a word?’
Gale waved to Titus to continue.
‘You know you can’t beat them. I know they bought off Sterling, it's two of you against five.’ Bella said, stirring the dirt with her foot.
‘Well, we can certainly give it a crack.’ Gale said with a winsome smile. Put on a show, make the world believe.
Bella looked away. ‘You sound like Hotaru.’
Gale’s smile faltered.
Bella looked him in the eye. ‘You’re being pushed to breaking point. This is the last day of term, and you need to pay your debt or be kicked out. This is your final roll of dice. Or, you could just walk away.
This shit ain’t worth burning out for.’
Gale really looked at the Bella, still barefoot, dark bags under her eyes. She was thinner, strained.
‘How is Hotaru?’ Gale asked.
Bella buried her head in her hands and slumped to the ground. ‘She sits at home, just stares at the wall most days, she doesn’t hunt or study or train. It’s all my fault.’
Gale sat beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. He let out a deep breath. ‘You were the one who told Giltynan about the pager, weren’t you. You overheard us before the second test.’
Bella’s head dipped further. ‘I needed the money for rent. Hotaru burnt herself out on good intentions, and I couldn’t let that happen to me. Don’t play today, Gale. Walk away, live your life. Even if they wipe your memories, you’ll go back to a normal life. Would that be so bad? Is this worth burning out for?’
Gale stared at the wrecked little waif of a human. Bella who’d fought through blood and ash to get them home from the monster hunt. Bella who’d burnt out in her own way, just as surely as Hotaru.
Gale could walk away. He could probably even hide from the authorities. Try to retain his memories. They’d find him eventually though. Ironchurch was still in a bed, slowly crumbling. The truth about his father and mother was still out there. Spur was out there. Ash was somewhere out there.
He’d never been one to leave a to-do list unfinished.
Gale’s hand squeezed Bella’s shoulder. ‘I’m not giving up.’
Gale brought out a flannelette shirt from his pack. ‘Here, Titus had this made for Yip. It’s about your size. I don’t think he’d wear it anyway. Chin up, Bella. As Titus would say, she’ll be right.’
Bella held on to the flannie, but didn’t put it on. Gale moved past her to the changing room and paused. He offered her one last word, one hint of comfort. One last show for the crowd. ‘You’ve seen me working towards this all year Bella.
Have you considered I have them right where I want them?’
Gale sat in the change room alone. Titus had stepped outside to make final modifications to his windsurfer.
‘Well ain't you a sorry sight, enough to pull on my heartstrings it is.’
Gale looked up. Heartstrings had entered the change room and carried a scroll. He was pushing two triple prams full of toddlers and had another strapped to a pack above his back.
‘How goes it Heartstrings?’ Gale asked and narrowed his eyes.
‘Living the dream.’ Heartstrings replied. The baby on his back banged Heartstrings skull with a rattle.
‘Do you have the information I asked for?’ Gale asked.
Heartstrings reached into a fanny pack and pulled out the contents. Dry diapers, a bottle and a bib all went on the floor. He then pulled out a black pouch bulging at the seams, tied off with a silver cord. Heartstrings weighed the pouch in his hand then tossed it to Gale.
Gale snagged it from the air. He opened it up, teasing the silver cord apart. Pure white Salt stared up at him. His Deep Script stirred within him.
‘My people hear things, conversations you understand? Someone has been cutting our product with something new…some creative side effects have been happening to our loyal customers.’ Heartstrings said.
‘The Salt? Something is different about the black market Salt?’ Gale asked.
‘You wanted information on the Blood Knight right. Well whoever they are, they’re cutting us out of the market. A new player has flooded the market with cheap Salt. Dirty stuff with something else brewed in. Do you want to find em? Look in the Salt mines. That’s where it's coming from.’ Heartstrings said.
‘That's not what I frakking asked for.’ Gale said. He had done what the bastard asked of him, and all he got was a bag of whispers and rumours? He stood up and stormed over to Heartstrings.
The babies in the pram started crying. Heartstrings started rolling the prams back and forth. ‘Keep ya voice down. Once one of them starts up its a positive feedback loop. And once they’re awake, they can poop as well.’
Gale grabbed Heartstrings by the shirt. ‘I gave you the god damn Lighthouse beacon! I want more then frakking hearsay. I want the Blood Knight.’
‘Sorry mate, that's all I got.’ Heartstrings raised his two hands in the air.
Gale spat to the side and turned away. He kicked a chair over and slammed his hand into the wall.
‘You could always use the Salt, you know.’ Heartstrings said. ‘That stuff is my finest product.’
Gale stared at the pouch in his other hand. The Salt would make him faster and stronger. Enhance his Deep Script. It would also put him on the edge of burnout.
‘Well best of luck to ya, I’ve got eight young ones rooting for you.’ Heartstrings beat a hasty retreat, as much as one can with two prams. Heartstrings hustled out of the change room, brushing past Titus Mangrove. Titus
stared at him from the entrance to the change room, holding a pie in each hand.
‘It was you. You stole the beacon.’ Titus said.
A cold weight settled in Gale’s stomach, and he felt the communicator on his ear. It was on, frak. He looked down at his feet. ‘It hasn’t been used in years. We’re safe within Ionhome’s reefwall.’
‘Why would you do this? I believed you were a true man, a man of honour. The Lighthouse is our duty. The Lighthouse protects your mates!’
‘Any opportunity Titus. That’s what Yip’s always saying. I needed the money. Heartstrings told me he could find the Blood Knight. I needed it to save Ironchurch.
‘Well then you should have bloody asked your mates. Not sold out our honour.’ Titus roared and threw one of the pies against the wall. It exploded in a brown sludge. ‘You don’t deserve a pie. You lied to us, Gale. You didn’t trust us. You broke rule number one. I cannot follow you into battle.’
Titus turned towards the exit.
Gale’s chest tightened, he couldn’t pull this off by himself. He needed Titus. This was the final roll of the dice. ‘Our debt Titus. They'll expel us if we don’t get the House Cup. Play for our debt if nothing else.’ Gale grabbed his arm. ‘You have to play today. I need you to play. It’s just you and me.’
Titus shook off Gale’s hand. Titus took off his flannie and threw it at Gale. ‘No Gale, it's just you.’
‘What is rule number one?’ Gale asked as Titus walked away. Titus paused at the exit to the change rooms.
‘Rule number one - A man has his mates back.’
Then Gale was alone.
‘Two minutes to start, all teams to their places.’ A voice boomed from outside the change room.
Gale stood alone. Titus had lost faith, Swan and Yip were locked up, Sterling had sold them out. Gale’s grand plan had fallen apart. He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the pouch of Salt in his hand.
The pouch of Salt weighed heavy in his grip. Wouldn’t taking this do some good? He might burn out, but he could win the match. He’d felt invincible in the Salt mines, and that had just been from a contact high. What would the actual product do to him? Using it would mean that Titus and Yip would get their fees paid. Could he offer them at least that? Gale poured some of the crystalline granules onto his hand. He rubbed the Salt between his thumb and forefinger. His Deep Script strained towards it, hungry for it. He felt Pancakes appear beside him, quirking his head at Gale.
If he used this, he would win the match.
If he won the match, he could become a fracturesmith.
If he became a fracturesmith, he could find the truth about his parents.
If he found the truth about his parents, he could find a way to stop the Worldflood.
All he had to do was use Salt once. Hell he’d seen dozens of students use it this year. Pushing themselves just that bit extra, scrapping for an edge in an exam. He probably wouldn’t burnout from just one use. He could do so much good for his family and for the world.
Just this once.
The Salt would make him stronger, faster, able to win the match. It might burn him out but wouldn’t his noble sacrifice be worth it? Wouldn’t it atone for his mistakes? Its what his father would have done. This had been a shithouse year, a year of being pushed through the muck, and it came down to this. All of it came down to this.
Hand shaking, Gale lifted the Salt towards his mouth. It was what his father would have done.
Pancakes shoved him with his snout.
Ironchurch’s book fell out of Gale’s pocket, onto the seat beside him. Pancakes looked at it and nudged him again. Gale lowered his hand. Without putting the Salt away, he picked up the book. He thumbed through it.
He finally turned to the last page. He’d spent all year trying to read this in stolen minutes. There was a handwritten note on the back page, and Gale recognised the overly large scrawl of Ironchurch.
‘Gale,
You have chosen a path with a heavy burden. I have done my best to make you strong.
Muscle over mind, the body must be respected. A muscle does not grow unless put under stress but a bone fractures under too much.
When you can, do not be afraid to ask for a spot. If no one can spot you, then know I have your back. You are your greatest resource, build yourself, train your body but don’t burn it out.
When things seem dark, and you hit your breaking point, just remember.
Its character building.’
Pancakes repeated, shaking his head up and down.
Gale stared at the seahound. Like a bubble bursting from his chest deep underwater, a single laugh floated to the surface.
‘Ha…..ha…ha...hahahahaha’ He bent over in laughter, arms resting on his legs. He slowly trailed off and wiped a tear from his eyes. He annihilated the Salt with a blast of Script.
Value yourself, he thought. Don’t burn out. He could still do this. This shithouse of a year had been of some value.
It had been character building.
He reached down to pet Pancakes on the head. No longer alone, Gale walked out to face the arena.
Gale/Titus/Sterling - A mate's back
The arena was a coliseum like structure, similar to the Clacka. The battleground was a harbour of water with a colossal metallic sphere rotating ten metres in the air. Different sized goals covered the sphere. Right at the top, there was a tiny goal no larger than a frisbee that would end the match instantly.
Floating platforms, water cannons and spiralling columns of ocean water filled the rest of the battleground. Water rose in swirling rivers through the air, without channels or pipes, its rapid currents a barrier to even the strongest student.
Floating platforms flipped around the columns of water. The platforms varied in size from a hand span to nearly four metres. They slowly flipped on their axis, one side with a red angry faced emoji and the other with a smiling yellow-faced emoji.
In the stands, the crowd was broken up by house sections. Giltynan caught his eye from the staff section and stared Gale down, waving a house Laurels flag. Urms sat next to Giltynan, in an unpressed shirt and pants but with a Lighthouse sign held in his hand. Well, I’ll be damned thought Gale. He saw Bursar Gibraltar lean in to whisper to the two of them.
Their houses separated the students, the gold and red sea of House Laurels, the muted brown and blue of House Canute, the dwindled crowd of House Baxtro. House Eternus was showing surprising resilience, their group bigger than Baxtro's. House Solvent in yellow and light blue, where Sterling no doubt sat. Gale couldn’t see Sterling, one figure in a crowd. Finally the section for the Lighthouse. Only Titus, the Bookwyrm and a monstrous-looking Shackleton sat there.
Gale’s stomach growled, he hadn’t had anything for breakfast due to the nausea. He reached into his bag and found a bottle of Ironchurch’s protein shake. The expiry date was twenty years from now. A faint smile creased his face. The old codger played a long game. He realised that he’d never actually tried the stuff this whole year. He’d never really given Ironchurch a chance. He downed the protein shake.
Reef’s edge that was terrible.
He triple-checked the Hydroplaner was ready. Swan might not be with them, but this would give him the edge. Gale kept Pancakes hidden and took his place, waiting for the House Laurels team.
The doors to the other entrance swung wide open. Alisdair strode out first. With a smug grin, he raised a hand to the crowd. House Laurels roared their approval, shaking banners and blowing horns. The other sections however were muted, and a scowl flitted across Alisdair’s face.
Behind Alisdair came the rest of his team. A mountain of muscle named Brock. A whip-thin rat-faced kid named Shiv and Alisdair’s crony Evan. Gale looked for their mounts. He knew House laurels had access to some wicked windsurfers or boards. He had the notes Yip had gathered on the Laurels members, he could counter them.
The four of them pulled a disc off their back. The circular disc’s had
four steel projections which telescoped outwards, like the spokes of a wheel. Gale looked at the circular discs with their handle and chain, the vest they clipped to. He saw the boots on their feet carved with runes, similar to his own. His eyes widened.
‘No…thats not possible.’
The four of them fired up their mounts to the awe of the crowd. The discs and crossbars formed a frame from which a kite-like device emerged. Their feet glowed white as boards expanded beneath them.
Frak.
Swan had made them Hydroplaners.
The four of them did a practice lap showing off. Frak, Gale, don’t get mad, think. House Laurels was well practised, their mounts seemed more for gliding through the air, rather than surfing the water like his. That was something. He could use that. It didn’t look like they could fly, just glide.
Alisdair landed with a crash in the water in front of Gale.
‘Like these Gale? One of my genius inventions. I call them my Hydrokites.’
What a dumb name, Gale thought. Fitted Alisdair’s dumb face.
‘Of course, the final member of our team doesn’t need one.’ Alisdair gestured behind him. Gale’s eyes found the final member of the House Laurels team.
Oh, Reef’s edge.
Adam was going to play.
Sterling straightened his tie and smoothed out his suit, then adjusted the odds down again. A rush of House Solvent members raced to place new bets. He scrawled their details in the ledgers and hand out ticket stubs. Not one of them had bet on Gale.
The line of students settled down, until a bare pair of feet appeared in front of him. Bella sat down next to him. She was wearing a flannelette shirt, where had she got that?
‘You could help him you know, it's not too late.’ Bella said.
Sterling held up the ledger, ‘have you seen these odds?’
Bella brushed down the flannelette shirt and watched House Laurels take their starting position. ‘Hotaru and I landed in the same realm during the Splinterpoint exam, did you know that? The odds were astronomical, but I guess something about us being twins landed us together. Hotaru suggested we take the test together.