Chapter 7: 06: STRATEGY

“Guard. Set.”

Adam Pendergast watched Ivan Rodinsky, one of his two best mates, prepare for the next bout of a practice duel. They met at the fencing gym where rows of gleaming equipment lined the walls like trophies. Safety indicators glowed on the battle strip where Ivan faced another boy wearing a mesh mask. Their sword arms were tagged with red sashes, and their training suits pulsed with colored lights that tracked their gained points.

Ivan held his saber high, body hopping with adrenaline, and waited for Coach Witt to launch. His opponent, a senior named Lewell, held a lower stance, and Adam spotted tension in Lewell’s body. Adam guessed the stout lad would attack the moment Witt started. He wondered if Ivan saw the same signs.

“Go.”

Lewell lunged, and Ivan pushed Lewell out of line. His counter slash failed to make a touch, and Witt called the start of the next encounter as they separated.

“Guard. Set. Go.”

Adam followed their movements, adding his own mental reactions. Ivan needed another point, but the forceful strikes yielded no points. Too aggressive, Adam critiqued Ivan’s character, even off the strip.

Ivan shoved Lewell out of bounds, and Witt blew a whistle, barking that Ivan’s next violation meant ejection. Ivan nodded as he dropped back into stance.

On the next start, Ivan launched a series of attacks that forced the flustered Lewell to retreat. He cut the saber across Lewell’s shoulders, and a red light flashed to signal he’d won the final point. Lewell shook his head as they removed their masks.

“You’re tough.” Lewell saluted, slicking back his hair as he balanced his saber under his arm. He shook Ivan’s hand. “You get me with that stop cut every time.”

The floodlights cast a shadow over Ivan’s grin. “Your confidence blinds you.”

“Is that right? Keep spilling your tricks. We’ll bout again, mate.”

“Maybe.”

Ivan signaled to Adam that he was headed to the locker room, and Adam nodded. “Whatever. Hurry up.”

Ivan disappeared, leaving Adam in the gym amid scattered practice bouts. Adam moved to the equipment wall and paused before a collection of claw-like hilts. The training rapier, his favorite style—flexible and direct, like him. He pulled out a hilt and the display blinked to mark the missing weapon. Falling into stance, he appeared a blot of crimson in the mirror with his uniform. Guard, set, go.

Adam thrust the blade forward and flicked his wrist, deflecting an imagined attack. Lunge, remise, parry of six. Several first-years stopped their activity to inspect. One boy with a face hidden behind a mask walked toward Adam. On his chest he wore a name badge reading NEUBERG.

“Pendergast.” The boy’s voice was muffled through the mask. “The big bad wolf. What an honor.”

Adam glanced at the yellow armband on the first-year’s arm. “Right.”

“Rumors make you sound larger than life. Heard you might be as good as the Captain but obviously, you’re nothing like your family.”

Adam smiled. “Thanks. You’re a first-year, right? Yellow’s your color. You pinned your name badge straight and everything.”

“Yep, all by myself.” The boy tapped the identifier. “The lot of us were lamenting we’d missed out on seeing the top rank wield.” He gestured at Adam’s weapon. “We might be wrong. Coming back?”

“No.” Adam scanned the boy. “Got other priorities.”

The mask bobbed. “Politics. Stats. Dry shit.”

“Yeah.”

“You want to be like your—you know.”

“My dad. He was the most popular Union General ever polled. What a legend. I’ll finish what he started.”

“He was Peace Party, though.” The mask tilted. “You’re Concord, while your family’s always leaned Peace. You must get grief for preferring the natives over your own kind.”

“You studied me. Admirable.” Adam feigned warmth. “You might know me better than yourself.”

“Trying to be your own man, even if it pisses everyone off.” Neuberg’s hand twitched on the blade. “Maybe specifically to do that.”

“Creative.”

The boy jabbed the rapier in a sudden lunge and Adam parried with his blade, returning the jab to Neuberg’s chest. Neuberg stumbled as Adam slipped out of reach in a whisp.

“Neuberg!” Witt charged towards them. “How many more penalties can you take?”

Neuberg pulled off his helmet, flashing a sheepish grin. “Sorry. He’s graduating. When else would I catch him?”

“Spare me. You were beaten by a ten-year old during a school demo. Someone who still wets the bed trounced you.” Witt pointed at Neuberg. “Don’t worry about Pendergast. You’ll be thirty when you graduate!”

“No issues here, sir.” Adam held up a hand to halt Witt. “He’s too slow to hit me, and confused about what to do with that weapon. I’m sure he’s learned a lesson.”

“Ace.” Neuberg grinned. “You’re all right, mate. As fast as they say, too.”

“Faster.”

Witt grunted, jerking his thumb behind him. “Get out of here. If I catch any more shit, you’re all running laps.”

Neuberg saluted. “Aye aye, Captain.”

“Smart ass.” Witt glared as the first-years returned to practice. “Leg-dragger with a big mouth. Worst of the new crop.”

Adam lowered the blade. “Still tough on the first years, sir.”

“It’s how they’ll learn. Never had that issue with you, though—you came ready to fight.” Witt turned to Adam. “I can tell your brother taught you shadow tricks. You were pushed by someone who understands death. You’re too fast for it not to have meaning.”

“Ah.” Adam’s raised a shoulder. “I was a kid when Elias went over some stuff. He didn’t personally train me.”

“You practiced on your own.”

“Some things stuck.”

“Not everyone can learn. Take Neuberg, for instance.” Witt gestured toward the first-year on the far side of the gym. “You have quick eyes and hands. A sharp mind. That comes from your breed. You started early.”

“Maybe.”

“Sure you picked the right career?”

Adam glanced at Witt’s probing stare. “A professional duelist isn’t as influential as a superior minister. Pay’s not great ‘til you get to Planetary, and then that’s mostly celebrity.”

“Not entertainment. Military.” Witt retained a forceful air. “You’d do well in the service.”

Adam stifled a laugh. “I don’t want to get shot. Tough rebuttals are enough damage.”

“You’re wasting your mind in politics.”

“I thought that’s where minds are needed.”

Witt scoffed. “Union needs robots to push the right buttons, while Defense needs men who can handle pressure. Make a real difference in this godforsaken hellhole, son.”

“Speak to Rodinsky.” Adam peered where Ivan disappeared. “He has zero goals.”

“Rodinsky’s infantry at best. No foresight or patience. Lacks brains. You’re command caliber.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Adam wouldn’t think about it. However, agreeing would get Witt to head back to the first-years.

Ivan returned from the locker room, face colored from rapid scrubbing. he lit up when he found Adam holding a blade. “Guess you’re back, ace.”

Adam glanced at the sword. “No. Wanted to see if it felt the same. It does.”

“Right. You got kicked out of class so you can mope around and pretend you don’t want to be here.”

“I’d rather not have a ten point penalty.”

Adam moved toward the equipment wall, and Ivan halted him.

“Don’t stand down.” Ivan dropped his rucksack to the ground, withdrawing a saber. “Let’s go. One for the history feeds.”

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“Ha.” Adam gestured at his uniform. “No gear, no masks, and your blade doesn’t match mine.”

“So?” Ivan lifted the saber over his head. “Blades are blades. Weapons are weapons. If this were real, all that matters is who kills first.”

“Sure, but this is a game.”

“Let’s pretend it’s not.”

Adam peered at Witt. “Coach is watching. I’ve got already got a black mark.” He reached forward to place the rapier in the stand, pausing when Ivan swatted him. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Ivan whacked him with the saber again.

“Ivan.” Adam stayed calm. “I’ll knock you out. Were those twin shiners I gave you last time fun?”

“Aye, you can throw one, but we’re civilized. Use the blade.”

“No.”

“You’re scared.”

Ivan advanced, and Adam backed away.

“I said fuck off.”

Ivan swung for Adam’s head, and the saber hummed as Adam spun around to guard. Sharp sounds of polymer clashing reverberated through the gym. Adam rammed his shoulder into Ivan, following with a lunge, and jabbed the rapier toward Ivan’s throat. Witt blew the whistle, and the pair separated.

“Damn it.” Witt marched over, head as red as his face. “I expected better from you two. You bobble-heads are seniors!”

“Sorry, Coach.” Adam stood to order, and Ivan repeated the apology.

“Sorry.”

“I must be old since I pity you.” Witt’s glared. “I’ll show some Harvest spirit. I won’t make you run laps over the holiday.”

“Thanks, Coach,” Adam and Ivan said in unison.

“Another breach and you’re both getting docked. I don’t care if it messes up your graduation plans. I don’t care who you are. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Return your weapons.”

Adam and Ivan did as instructed while Lewell and the first-years, who’d returned to watch, scattered when Witt noticed them. Adam scowled, noticing Ivan smiling.

“What’s funny? Nothing happened except you almost ruining Harvest.” Adam pressed the panel for the gym’s doors. “If Witt laid another penalty on me, I’d find new places to bruise you.”

“Sure. Nothing happened. In there.”

“Won’t happen anywhere.”

“You’d have no choice if this were real.” Ivan looked aside. “Fight or die. Your choices.”

“If this were real, I’d hit you first.”

“That’s what you think.”

“What I know.”

“Yeah, right.”

“More talk.”

Adam would never fight Ivan to the death. Best friends since Primary, they’d faced moments of rivalry, but always remained close. Ivan liked to make jokes. Most of the time, they weren’t funny.

### ☼ ☼ ☼

Fifty Cloverland seniors gathered at the south end of campus beneath the cover of low-hanging branches. They called the area the blind spot because contraband exchanged hands. Adam and Ivan arrived to meet their other best mate there, the medical candidate Jonah Singleton, who lurked with the others during class breaks.

Adam acknowledged students as he walked alongside Ivan, overhearing one topic of conversation among them as Gracie predicted. Over and over they asked—

“You going to that party?”

“No,” he’d reply.

“What?” Their reaction was surprise. “But everyone’s going!”

“Whatever,” he’d mutter back.

“Pen’s going,” Ivan held up a hand to assure the curious students as he steered Adam along. “Don’t listen to him. He loves being relevant. There’s nothing else this big happening for Eve.”

Adam and Ivan found Jonah chatting with several seniors, and the curly-haired boy brightened when he saw them. Jonah greeted them with a knock of fists, and the trio separated from the other students. Adam wrinkled his nose at the smell sifting from Jonah’s sedasig.

“My uniform’s going to stink.” He dusted off his jacket. “Thanks, shithead.”

“You knew you were coming to the spot, but bitch about the obvious.” Jonah snorted as Adam waved away the smoke. “Alright, faggot.”

Adam sniffed, taking a step away. “Some of us have standards. You wouldn’t know about that.”

Jonah rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Playing the galaxy’s tiniest light harp for you.”

“Nice you’ve got a tiny instrument.” Adam’s mouth puckered as he surveyed Jonah’s device. “You’re enlisting with Public Health & Safety. I can’t believe you want to be a doctor. Let me guess—what you’re smoking’s the purest ever, extracted from two hundred elder fangs all suffering toothaches.”

“Wow. Nice pitch.” Jonah spoke deadpan. “You dealing?”

“Yes. Forget my life path. Play mood music during my sentencing with your tiny violin.”

Jonah touched his cheek. “He’s offended.”

Ivan glanced at Jonah, a smirk playing at his lips. “Warned you he’s torqued right now. Lost ten points in another coward’s display. Bitter place in his black heart.”

Jonah blew another puff, and his pupils dilated. “Bitter.”

Adam dusted off his sleeves, shaking his heads. “I don’t want to smell like shit. Should I emote slower for you two? I-don’t-want-to-smell—”

Jonah stepped back, and his brown curls fell over his eyes as he held up his hands. “Better, Senator?”

“Not much.”

“Such a saint.” Ivan leaned back to check out a group of girls nearby. They giggled, and he grinned at them before turning away. “What a martyr. Good dog. Party of the ages and you’d rather lick some geezer’s boots.” He accepted the sedasig offered by Jonah. “Pathetic.”

Adam clasped his hands behind his back. “You call it bootlicking, I call it networking.”

“Cute way to spin you humiliation.”

“More useful than whatever you lot are planning.” He glanced at the other students, a collection of the upper-crust of Altirian society. “I’m your future superior, so stay on my good side.”

“Our superior. Please. Lots of superior help guided your path.” Ivan detailed the assistance Adam received. “War hero father elected Union General. High-ranking arbiter mother. Every gossip rag’s infatuation with your brother, the great Captain. You also got favors from a specific priestess—”

Adam interjected to stop him. “I know the odds work in my favor. I never deny connections get me where I want to go.”

Ivan acknowledged another senior with a quick handshake. “A permanent position as a sector judge’s aide after senior grade, and you barely hold the qualifications. Not even Mommy could arrange something so plush.” He laughed. “Maybe the wildland queen has the hots for you.”

“Don’t joke about that.” Adam dragged a finger across his throat and made a strangled sound. “That’d be my future if I got involved. King Al-Bheti, Prince Malek, and all forty of the Bheti sons would hang me.”

Jonah snickered at Adam’s scenario. “Wonder if Kalum would keep helping if she heard that. Not very Concord of you.”

“She knows what I think. Running for Concord doesn’t mean I don’t see the truth.” Adam’s mood darkened. “The Sinum side of Isten Dar demanded she get tribal tattoos on her skull as a newborn. They hurt to look at. Reminds me of the brutal extents native faiths can go. It’s not at all like the friendship offered by the Sisem sect. Situation’s complex, and Kalum’s afraid of the arrangement.”

“Tough talk. We know why Khelot’s actually not an option.” Ivan returned the sedasig to Jonah. “You want the redhead and refuse to look elsewhere—for now. Planning your move since she’s free, but taking your sweet time. Fucking. Whipped.”

“I’m not whipped.” Adam’s huffed. “I've liked Li for a long while. I’ve got one shot to show her I can be serious like Spencer.”

“Jerking off outside her window for six years is a weird way of telling her you like her.”

Jonah coughed a hard laugh. “Pen’s only brave with girls that throw themselves at him, so he never has to deal with rejection. If Li says no, he’ll be crushed.”

Ivan nudged Adam with his elbow. “I invited her to Blood Fang. She was into it. Saved a pass for you, too.”

“Hm.”

“Li’s free, and three weeks is a respectable amount of time. She’ll be drinking at the party, alone without Spencer, forcing herself not to cry—”

Adam turned his head aside. “Got it.”

“Spencer’s going too,” said Jonah. “He’s hovering. Li’s sentimental, so she’d go back to what she knows. Wait too long and they’ll be back together.”

Without a breeze, the contraband smoke left an earthy and pungent odor. Adam was glad he remembered to bring spice-water. He removed the vial from his pocket.

“I’m being respectful. She used to go steady with someone for years.” He spritzed the scent to his throat. “Li’s perfect for my future campaigns. I can tell already she’d make a loyal wife and mother. Vangrali, too, which opens chances to build important relations on that island. Perfect in every way.”

“Wife? Mother?” Jonah grimaced. “Mate, you’re not even dating. You’ve got plenty of other options for status wife. Remember last Mid-Year? You were busy.”

“That’s the old me.” Adam brushed away a time he’d spent with many girls in quick succession. “I don’t need a status wife. I like Li, and she’s no trophy.”

Ivan laughed. “Damn. Cruel.”

Adam frowned. “That’s not what I meant. You know what I meant.”

“Right. I doubt Li would marry you if she heard you talking about her like a business deal.”

“Not true. I like her a lot, and enough time’s passed without that changing.” He shrugged. “No harm in seeing a benefit to my optics.”

“You’re awful, Pen. Don’t convince yourself you’re better.” Ivan gestured for them to move. “Come on. You told those girls we’d meet ’em at Astro's.” He snatched the vial of spice-water from Adam. “Ace. Khel likes this.”

Jonah wrinkled his nose. “Still going for that one, are you? You like that ‘oh fuck, we’re going to die’ type of danger.”

“Don’t mind danger. I’ll try ’til there’s no chance left.”

“Good fucking luck. Waste of time.”

Ivan nodded. “I agree, but she’s molten. I like messing with the royal little bitch.”

Ivan and Jonah’s taunts repeated in Adam’s mind as they walked. Ivan’s assessment bothered him and made him sound like a robot. He wasn’t cold and unfeeling. Not always. He kept pace with the pair, speaking up to clarify.

“Based on how long we’ve known each other, trends suggest there’s an 87% chance I already love her.” He held up a finger as he considered all the data he’d read. “Some days those odds go over 90%, like when she wears her hair in two braids instead of one.”

“You suck.” Jonah groaned. “You fucking suck. I hate you.”

Adam ignored them as they laughed. He didn’t have graceful words about how Talitha made him feel, but he noticed when her cheeks turned as bright as her hair whenever she was upset or excited. Adam didn’t remember trivial things like that, though he did with her.

“All right.” He broke the silence to share his conclusion. “I decided. I’m in love with Li.”

Jonah faced Adam with a sigh. “Fuck.” He reached forward to feel Adam’s forehead. “Feeling any pain, extreme fatigue, or enamel ripping through your gums? Maybe a sudden and uncontrollable thirst for blood?”

Adam shoved Jonah away. “I do feel pain, and it’s coming from you.”

Ivan clapped Adam on the back. “Hold on. This is a big deal. Pen’s decided to be a shining knight and rescue the girl from her tragic past. Right?”

“Sure.” Adam remained distant. “Maybe.”

“It’s a strategy.”

“Strategy. Aye. But I love her.”

“Sure you do.”

The boys reached the tube station that connected major parts of Altir, descending into a maze labeled with cardinal directions. Union’s insignia, a warlike falcon, gleamed above the vestibule, illuminating the standing CDPD guards. Adam held his COM in front of the entry reader, spotting polished rifles slung on the shoulders of standing guards. Ivan spoke beside him.

“Look at that. He’s carrying a UD-X9 rifle, nicknamed ‘Whisper.’ She’s as noiseless as you can get with that size. Surprised to see it here when Central’s phasing out crowd control.”

Adam peered at Ivan. “How do you know that?”

“We’ve all got hobbies.”

“Glad we’re getting rid of it.” The ominous weapon appeared in Adam’s peripheral. “Sets a bad tone.” The officer’s weapon glinted as he adjusted position, and Adam released a low breath as they passed.

“If you’re serious about Li, rethink the party.” Ivan drew Adam back into their conversation. “You won’t have a better shot.”

Adam shoved his hands in his pockets. “My life’s over if we’re caught.”

“We’re not getting caught. Your friends in high places willclean up your record, anyway. I’ll say this, though—your social life’s definitely over if you stay home. People will talk about this forever. A costume party gives you plaus—plaus—what’d you call it?”

“Plausible deniability.”

“Plausi—yeah. That’s the one.” Ivan stroked his jaw. “You owe it to yourself to have one wild night. I wonder what Li will wear. She looked good in Flint City last term. What did she dress as for the paint party—a tiger?”

“Flint City. Oh, yeah.” Jonah paused to recall the gathering. “I hooked with that girl. Tried to link with her again, but you’ve got to see how many females are named ‘Kelly’ in Central. But she could’ve been Kara…or Karin. Kairi?” He waved away his confusion, glancing at Adam. “You’ve got to go. You’ll regret missing out.”

Adam faced them, and his mind turned over his options.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think,” said Jonah. “Do.”

Adam hated that Jonah and Ivan were right. Talitha looked great in Flint. He remembered her drawn on whiskers and sparkling nose. She’d decorated her dress with fluorescent claw marks and laughed when she spilled her drink on him after having one too many.

Sorry, mate! Her cheeks flushed as she grinned wide.

“Yeah.” Adam grumbled. “We’ll see.”

“Stellar.” Ivan punched his palm as they reached a platform labeled West-Southwest. “This year, everything changes.”