《Drifters》 1 - Places of Origin Caribbean Sea Grenada was close. Marie LeFleur could see the island drawing closer. Not that she¡¯d be particularly welcome there, but she¡¯d be more welcome than she¡¯d been in Port of Spain. As in, no one would try to arrest her the instant she was recognized. She adjusted the sail on her catboat, trying to coax a tiny bit more speed out of it. Focusing on the sail let her not think about¡­ other things. Such as the ship chasing her. Marie had lived on the water nearly her whole adult life. She knew the waves and the wind. A map of the Caribbean was engraved on her soul. She¡¯d chosen the life of a pirate as the lesser of two evils when she was eighteen, and had never regretted it. Not really. Even at the worst of times, she¡¯d always known how to claw her way back to freedom. That was a luxury many of her sisters had never had. And she¡¯d survived. Marie had outlived most of her enemies, sometimes by killing them herself. Now, at fifty-six, she was honestly surprised she was still alive. Yes, her crew had forcibly retired her, leaving her with only a lifeboat, her weapons, and an incredibly bad reputation. But she was alive. A boom behind Marie made her look around. The ship following her was closer than she¡¯d thought it would be. Its two forecannons were aimed at her, smoke coming out of one. A cannonball splashed into the water on her left. She knew the one after next would hit. Another boom, and Marie decided to stop running. She¡¯d lived long enough, and a quick death at sea was better than being caught upon reaching Grenada. She knelt in the bottom of her catboat, bowing her head. She crossed herself, closing her eyes as another boom sounded behind her. Marie repeated words she''d learned so long ago. ¡°I commend my soul to whatever god will take me.¡± The cannonball hit. She yelled as the side of the boat exploded, sending shards of wood everywhere. A long sliver hit her back, slicing open the skin over her ribs. Marie hissed through clenched teeth, annoyed that her jacket was probably ruined. And then she laughed. She dug her nails into her knees, laughing. She was about to die, she wanted to die, and she was still annoyed about getting a hole in her jacket. Another cannonball hit the boat, and it began to sink. Marie laughed harder, tears falling onto her trousers. Suddenly her body tingled, and she was covered in blue light. She looked up, still laughing, ready to meet whichever of the gods was real. Instead she saw a white ceiling with bars of even whiter light going across it. Marie glanced around, finding herself in a windowless room, the stark whiteness putting her on edge. Frowning, she slowly stood. There was something about this that felt profoundly wrong. A voice came from nowhere. ¡°Please sit down.¡± Marie pulled the pistol off her belt. The powder was wet, but they didn¡¯t know that. ¡°Show yourself,¡± she ordered. A faint lilac mist began to fill the room. ¡°For your comfort, please sit down,¡± the voice said. Marie stood tall, sneering. ¡°Show yourself or I¡¯ll destroy this pretty room.¡± ¡°You would only succeed in harming yourself,¡± the voice said. ¡°Please sit down.¡± Marie took a step back, switching pistol for cutlass. As she breathed, she noticed the air tasted funny. It tasted like blood and lavender, which only put her more on edge. ¡°Please sit down.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll sit when I die,¡± she said, her vision going fuzzy. It must have been blood loss. It didn¡¯t feel like blood loss, though. As her knees buckled she decided it felt more like poison. Her cutlass hit the ground with a clatter as she passed out.
Texas desert, USA Peter Lopez walked. He had nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and the dreams in his head. They¡¯d even taken his horse. But that was all right. He could start over. He¡¯d done it before. All he needed was to survive this journey, and he¡¯d be doing just fine come August. So he walked. He put one foot in front of the other, over and over again, as cacti and desert brush slowly passed by. Thankfully it was still March. He¡¯d be dead by now for sure if it¡¯d been July. Sure, it was a bit chilly, but good leather boots and a thick Mexican poncho kept him warm. As he walked, he grew thirsty. He knew enough about plants and wildlife to not go hungry, but no amount of cactus bits would make up for a complete lack of water. Finally, after two days of solitary walking, Peter collapsed. He lay there for a few seconds, panting, then painfully sat up. He wasn¡¯t going to die like that. That would be¡­ sad. He crawled to a joshua tree and leaned back against it. Licking parched lips, he pulled his cowboy hat down over his face. Crossing his legs in front of him, Peter laced trembling fingers under his poncho. There. Peter smiled, closing his eyes as his heart hammered. This was a good end. And end to be proud of. Just falling asleep against a tree. He¡¯d known many men who would have traded their deaths for his in an instant. He¡¯d killed men who would have traded their deaths for his. He felt his body tingle, like when a limb went numb. Blue light filtered through his eyelids as the sounds of the desert faded away. Not how he¡¯d imagined death feeling, but who was he to judge? Amazingly enough, he¡¯d never been this close to death before. It wasn¡¯t an unpleasant sensation, and it let him know something was happening. Very convenient. Suddenly the tree was gone, and he fell flat. His skull hit solid ground; hard enough for him to see stars but not enough for him to pass out. ¡°Ay!¡± he complained, flinching. ¡°¡­The hell?¡± ¡°Apologies,¡± an odd voice said. ¡°Please remain still.¡± Peter lifted the hat off his face. He stared up at a white ceiling with bars of light going across it. Odder than that, the air smelled metallic and flowery. He wanted to sit up and look around, but was too tired. Too close to death. But he wasn¡¯t dead yet. An insect or something bit him on the arm as he let his hat fall back over his eyes. He couldn¡¯t let his last words be a curse. His mama would be very disappointed. More importantly, the saint he was named after would be disappointed. And he wanted to make a good impression at the Pearly Gates; Lord knew he¡¯d done enough to not be let in.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Peter swallowed hard as his thoughts grew hazy. ¡°Santa Maria¡­ Colita de rana¡­¡±
London, England Sophie Cadbury, second daughter to the Duke of Cadbury, had not been invited to the Countess of Danescourt¡¯s ball. This had been on purpose. Countess Danescourt was open in her dislike of Sophie, mostly because Sophie was prettier than Eliza Danescourt, and had received five offers of marriage to Eliza¡¯s measly one. The fact that the one offer had come from Sylvester, Sophie¡¯s older brother, hadn¡¯t helped. Countess Danescourt firmly believed the Cadbury family was, as a whole, out to make a mockery of her. This was untrue. Sylvester honestly imagined himself in love with a girl he¡¯d met twice at parties and once in the park. Their mother hoped a wife would convince Sylvester to stop gambling, and was willing to dote on Eliza more than Countess Danescourt did. Their father, who hated London and never went near the place, barely knew the Danescourt family existed. The same could be said of Sophie¡¯s other siblings. Sophie, though, was willing to mock her. And by ¡°mock¡±, she meant ¡°steal from¡±. She walked behind the big house to where drivers and other servants had gathered. The men were having a party of their own, drinking cheap beer and enjoying music that came from inside the house. A few looked her way as she approached, smiling politely. ¡°Can we help you, miss?¡± an older man asked. ¡°Yes,¡± she said, looking at him with wide eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to climb through that window and rob the lady¡¯s apartment. Would you mind terribly not alerting the police?¡± Dead silence. And then the entire group erupted with laughter. ¡°We won¡¯t alert nobody, but if someone passes by and sees you we ain¡¯t standing up for you, neither,¡± the older man said, once he got his breath back. ¡°Hold on, hold on,¡± a younger man with a thin moustache said, putting a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Sorry, miss, but I ain¡¯t breaking the law cuz you asked nicely.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard the lady has an enormous earring collection, made of every gem imaginable,¡± Sophie said. ¡°I¡¯m mostly interested in necklaces myself; perhaps one earring for each of you? I¡¯m sorry, how many men are there here?¡± A teenager climbed halfway up a gutter and counted twenty-four men. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve seen Countess Danescourt wear twelve pairs of earrings in a week, all with diamonds,¡± Sophie told them. ¡°Would everyone here be happy with one earring each in exchange for pretending I don¡¯t exist for the next hour?¡± The group decided this was fair, and Sophie gave them a small curtsey before walking to the wall. The Duchess¡¯ window was on the second floor. Sophie pulled a meat hook and rope out of her purse, judging the distance. Focusing, she swung the hook around a few times, letting it gain speed before she let the rope fly. To her relief, the hook landed perfectly first time. She turned to her audience. ¡°Terribly sorry, but would you all mind not watching?¡± she called. ¡°Rather defeats the purpose of no one telling the police I¡¯m breaking in if someone passes by and sees you all staring at me.¡± The men agreed this was logical, and went back to drinking. Taking a deep breath, Sophie unbuttoned the belt and hoop of her dark green skirt and stepped out, leaving her in a pair of navy blue trousers. By itself, in the dark, the skirt resembled a bush. Leaving it there, Sophie grabbed the rope and scaled the wall. She was through the window in half a minute. The room was dark, not a candle or lamp to be had. This was expected. Sophie closed her eyes and counted to ten. When her eyes opened, they¡¯d adjusted to the darkness. Smiling as the sounds of a waltz came from below, she walked to the ornate dressing table and opened an enormous jewelry box. Thousands of pounds in gems glittered back at her. Without checking if they were real or not, Sophie put twelve pairs of earrings into a pocket and everything else into her purse. Looking around, she spotted a closet door. No lady in her right mind kept all her jewelry together. Most of it, yes. But the extremely expensive things, the items inherited from great-grandmothers which were worn when meeting the Queen, the sets that would be seriously missed¡­ Those were kept elsewhere. Usually hidden in boxes at the back of a closet, between old shawls and out-of-fashion dresses that might be remade someday. Sophie lit a match as she opened the closet door, looking up at hatboxes and down at bandboxes. Using a single finger, she lifted each of the hatboxes. One felt distinctly heavier than the others. Pulling it down, she slid the top off and looked in at a pretty straw bonnet. Lifting the bonnet, she found a lace shawl. Under the shawl¡­ Diamonds. Dozens of them, set in gold, with flawless rubies to accent them. Whistling softly, a habit her mother abhorred, she reverently pulled the jewelry set out of the box and slid everything into a secret pocket. Setting the lace and hat back in the box, she slid the top back on and put it in its place just as the waltz ended. Indistinct chatter grew louder as Sophie walked to the window. Climbing back out was always where she had the most trouble. She was frowning at the meat hook when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Panicking, Sophie grabbed the windowsill and swung herself over. As the door opened, she quickly took the rope and dropped out of sight. With a crack the wood of the window frame broke, setting the hook free. Sophie yelped as she dropped, clutching the useless rope. She closed her eyes, knowing it would hurt when she hit the ground. A strange blue glow surrounded her, and instead of sharp pain she felt pins and needles in every muscle. Suddenly both things ended, and she landed softly on a smooth floor. Sophie opened one eye, then the other, then scrambled to her feet. She was in a perfectly square room, all sides made of some kind of smooth white¡­ something. It almost felt like glass, but sounded more like wood when she knocked on a wall. Two long round bars on the ceiling emitted bright light. There were odd creases in the walls, one of which she suspected made a door. A voice came from the ceiling. ¡°Please sit down.¡± The voice was male, with an American accent, but it sounded like someone talking through a trumpet. Sophie looked at the bag of stolen jewelry in her hand and shrugged. She knocked on the door. ¡°Hello? Might I ask where I am?¡± A pause, then the voice spoke again. ¡°Please sit down for your comfort.¡± Looking up, she saw a faint mist was now coming from the ceiling around the lights. It reached her, and the smell reminded her of cheap French potpourri. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but there aren¡¯t any chairs,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Please sit on the floor for your comfort,¡± the voice told her. ¡°...Very well,¡± she said, settling on the floor. Having nothing better to do, she pulled a bracelet out of her pocket and clasped it around her wrist. She was still admiring it when she fell asleep.
Satsuma Domain, Japan Miyamoto Razan, proud samurai of the daimyo Shimazu Narioki, hated sweet potatoes. What had begun as a mild dislike for the root as a child was now a deep-seated loathing of them. Why didn¡¯t he like them? He did not know. No one knew. They had many uses, and could be cooked in a number of good recipes. But after being paid with them, instead of rice like a normal samurai, for two and a half years, Razan was done. He couldn¡¯t take it any more. And so he began a journey up Sakurajima volcano with his weekly payment of sweet potatoes on his back. He hoped this journey would awaken something in him spiritually. Perhaps he would meet some strange being that would only let him live if he handed over the sweet potatoes, and this would make him realize they had value. Or he¡¯d get to the summit and be struck with an overwhelming hunger. In his starving state, sweet potatoes would taste good for the first time in his life. Then again, if not, he¡¯d throw the cursed things into the volcano and feel satisfaction at seeing them completely and utterly destroyed. It took him a day and a quarter to reach the summit. He spent that time meditating; reflecting on the beauty of nature at first, and all the life choices that had brought him here at the end. Few of those choices were truly regrettable. He realized the problem was not that he was being paid in sweet potatoes, but that he personally did not like to eat them. Or smell them. Or even look at them. He resolved to better himself, and accept sweet potatoes as a part of his life. ¡­After throwing this box into the volcano. Razan looked down at glowing red magma, smelling sulfur. It was closer than he¡¯d imagined it would be, and much hotter. With a grunt, he lifted the box of sweet potatoes onto his shoulder and tossed it in. There wasn¡¯t a splash when the box hit, like something touching water. It acted more like when something was pressed down into uncooked rice. The individual potatoes burst into flames and quickly died, while the wooden box sank as it turned to charcoal. A plume of smoke rose to Razan, making him dizzy when he smelled it. The air smelled vile, noxious, and faintly of sweet potato. He stumbled back, covering his face with a sleeve as he coughed. Whatever lived in the volcano apparently didn¡¯t like sweet potatoes, either. The ground jolted, sending him forwards again. His arms flailed as he reached for something, but there was nothing to grab. Off-balance and dizzy from the fumes, Razan fell off the edge. He closed his eyes, knowing at least his death would be quick. The red glow became blue, and his body tingled from fear. He landed. To his surprise, he didn¡¯t land on molten rock, but on a smooth white surface. Ivory? Pure jade? Either way, extremely expensive. He¡¯d been saved. By some unknown being, for an unknown purpose. ¡°Please sit.¡± The words came from nowhere and everywhere; surely it belonged to a divine being. Razan moved onto his knees and bowed, pressing his forehead against the smooth white surface. He would hold himself like this until the being gave him more instructions. Summoning years of training, he didn¡¯t even look around. If he saw something, it might be disrespectful. He had to admit, the air here smelled much better than the air in the volcano. It was much cooler, too; the floral scent calmed and refreshed him. He closed his eyes as he waited. Within seconds he was asleep. 2 - Inti鈥檚 Satellite Inti¡¯s Satellite, Medical and Edification Area The air had a metallic, almost fake smell to it. Peter wasn¡¯t sure how someone could make fake air, or why, but that¡¯s what it smelled like. Maybe he was just too used to fresh Texas air, and was in a city hospital. He pushed himself to his elbows, opening his eyes after a yawn. ¡°Hello,¡± a soft female voice said. ¡°Please state your name.¡± ¡°Serge- Ped- Peter. Peter Lopez. Ma¡¯am,¡± he stuttered, rubbing his face. He still wasn¡¯t awake enough to answer complicated questions. ¡°Thank you, Peter Lopez. Please verify that all your fingers and toes move.¡± Peter stopped. He finally looked around the room. It was completely white. There was a bed, which he was in, a table with a glass and pitcher of water on it, and nothing else. No people, no windows, no door. There were creases in the walls in odd places, but no doorknob. Looking up, all he saw was two bars of light inset into the white ceiling. ¡°Hello?¡± he called, sliding his feet off the bed. ¡°Please verify that all your fingers and toes move,¡± the voice repeated. It came from above; from the lights. He wiggled his fingers and toes. ¡°Yep, they move.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡±
¡°Thank you,¡± the feminine voice said. ¡°Now please stand and state if anything hurts.¡± Marie watched the ceiling suspiciously. ¡°I¡¯m nearly sixty years old,¡± she told the lights. ¡°Something is going to hurt. If it doesn¡¯t, I¡¯m dead.¡± ¡°Please stand and state-¡± ¡°Yes, fine, I¡¯m standing,¡± she snapped, getting to her feet. As always, her left knee objected to moving. Her lower back felt sore, and her scalp itched. Other than that, cold feet, a bruise on her arm, and a twinge in her hip as she took her first step of the day, nothing was wrong. She told all that to the ceiling. ¡°Thank you. Please remove your clothes for cleaning.¡± Marie¡¯s hands closed around her weapons. ¡°Say that again?¡±
¡°Please remove your clothes for cleaning,¡± the voice repeated. Sophie looked around, hugging her arms to her chest. ¡°No.¡± ¡°This is a necessary part of the process,¡± it said, perfectly calm. ¡°Would you prefer if the room were darker?¡± Sophie pulled the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around herself. ¡°What process?¡± ¡°The process of preparing you to meet your group. You will wish to look your best.¡± ¡°My group?¡± ¡°Yes, the group of people you will be working with.¡± Sophie looked at the section of the wall she suspected was a door. ¡°Are there good-looking men in my group?¡± The voice didn¡¯t answer for a few seconds. ¡°The group consists of two men and two women. As I do not know what you would consider good-looking, I cannot say if you would find them attractive.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± she said thoughtfully. ¡°I can keep my purse with me, yes?¡± ¡°It will get wet.¡± Sophie hesitated. ¡°Wet?¡±
Razan stepped out of the ¡°shower area¡±, feeling cleansed and ready to meet the Divine Being who had brought him here. He wasn¡¯t stupid, he knew he was going to be a servant or in some menial position, but surrounded by this much luxury he didn¡¯t care. As if by magic, a part of the wall went up. Behind it was a glass of blue liquid and a toothbrush. ¡°Please clean your teeth and rinse your mouth out with the liquid,¡± the goddess ordered. ¡°Do not drink the liquid.¡± Razan bowed, as was proper, and took the brush. The blue liquid was absolutely vile, but as this was the first unpleasant thing here, he did his best to not act disgusted. A minute later, his teeth were clean. ¡°Your clothes are ready,¡± the goddess announced. ¡°You may return to the first room and dress yourself.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Razan said, bowing again.
Peter sniffed his clothes. They smelled wrong. From the day he got them, they¡¯d always smelled like dust and sweat. Sure, he¡¯d cleaned them from time to time, but you don¡¯t waste water on clothes out in the desert unless it''s absolutely necessary. But now they smelled like someone had tossed a bouquet of flowers and a bag of sugar into a tub of lye with them. The fancy soap and hair stuff had been bad enough; would everything here end up literally smelling of roses? He sighed, then shrugged with a slight smile. Well, there were worse things to smell like. And he¡¯d smelled like many of them.
Marie adjusted her belt, noticing it was clean, too. Out of curiosity she pulled the cutlass out of its scabbard, and her eyebrows went up as she saw it shine. The old metal now reflected her face like a mirror. Without touching it, she could tell the blade was sharper. A few familiar notches showed it was hers, but it was as good as a well-used sword could be. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Interesting. Marie couldn¡¯t decide if them sharpening her cutlass was good or bad. Returning it at all was good, but sharpening it implied they wanted her to fight. ¡°When ready, you may go to the main room for food,¡± the voice said. ¡°Not yet,¡± Marie said, pulling a pistol off her hip. She wanted to see if they¡¯d cleaned all her weapons.
With an air of ownership, Sophie walked through the door and into the Main Room. It was a long rectangle, with padded brown couches at the near end, a square oak table with four simple chairs in the middle, and what must have been a kitchen at the far end. Along the pale blue walls there were more seams and indents. Sophie spotted five doors aside from hers. Most importantly, there was a man at the table eating a boiled egg. An Oriental man, in odd Oriental clothes. He stopped fiddling with the egg and stared at her, confusion on his face. Sophie nodded politely. ¡°Good day,¡± she said, and walked to the kitchen. ¡°Good morning,¡± the man said softly, in accented but clear English, and looked back at his egg. Sophie got to the kitchen and looked around. There was a grate in the ceiling here, with a faint breeze moving towards it. Directly below the grate was a counter with several unknown appliances. To the left was a sink and faucet, with a bar of soap on a tiny drying rack attached to the wall. To the right of the appliances stood a tall square box. Drawers and cupboards filled the space under the counter. Aware the man was watching her, Sophie took a deep breath. Logically, the sink would be placed on the opposite end from the food. The drawers closest to water would have cleaning supplies, while tea and dried spices would be furthest away. Silverware, cups and plates would be in the middle. Logically. Probably. Moving confidently, she opened a cupboard and found mugs and plates. She chose one of each and put them on the counter. Pulling open a drawer, she found silverware. One of each item joined the plate, and she moved to the tall box. A wave of cold air hit her as she looked at milk, eggs, an assortment of fruit, a few tomatoes and onions, two jars of jam, six bottles she couldn¡¯t identify, and butter. Butter and jam implied there was bread. She pulled them out, along with the milk, and looked for a square drawer. There were two. The first she opened had tea, coffee, powdered chocolate and sugar in it. After taking out chocolate and sugar, she tried the second drawer. Bread. A loaf of pre-cut wheat bread, to be precise. Behind her, there was the sound of a door opening and a few footsteps. Sophie turned to see a tall black woman in faded trousers and an alarming number of weapons. The woman frowned slightly, scanning the room. ¡°Hello,¡± Sophie called, smiling brightly. ¡°I¡¯m just making toast, would you like some?¡± The woman¡¯s gaze focused on her, and the frown turned suspicious. Sophie focused all her energy on portraying ¡°amiable idiot¡± as she held up a few slices of bread. Suspicion faded. ¡°Yes,¡± the woman said with a distinct French accent. ¡°Thank you.¡± She walked towards Sophie with determined, surprisingly quick steps. ¡°Excellent,¡± Sophie said cheerfully, and looked at the appliances. She prayed one of them could be used to toast bread.
Razan finished his egg and looked up questioningly. ¡°Please put food residue in the garbage disposal beneath the sink, and dirty utensils in the sink,¡± the goddess said. He bowed, getting to his feet. The two women, who had been discussing the merits of chocolate with vs without sugar, looked up at the words then over at Razan. He wasn¡¯t quite sure what to do. He¡¯d been the first one here this morning, but the white¡­ girl? woman? ¡­woman knew the kitchen well, as if she¡¯d been here for days. Did that indicate she was in charge? And the black woman, clearly the oldest here, looked like she would use one of her many weapons on anyone who disrespected her. He wished he could ask the goddess what to do, but in their presence that would be rude, and they spoke Japanese. Not perfectly, of course. They had distinct accents, and some phrases were odd, but they were speaking his language. Or perhaps they were all speaking and understanding some new Divine language. Either way, they would understand if he asked anything aloud. He couldn¡¯t risk it. Instead he picked up the spoon, eggshells, and cup, and walked as quietly as possible to the sink. The women watched him, silently stirring liquid in their cups. Razan bowed slightly as he approached them, then focused on getting all his eggshells into the box under the sink. Thankfully, at that moment a new door appeared, and a thin man in a cowboy outfit strolled into the room. He looked around, saw the group, and beamed. ¡°People!¡± he declared, and walked over to them. He took his hat off with a flourish and bowed. ¡°How d¡¯you do, my name¡¯s Peter, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet y¡¯all.¡± His manner of speaking was nearly painful to Razan, but it was polite. He bowed, not afraid to look this one in the eye. ¡°I am Miyamoto Razan, pleased to meet you as well.¡± ¡°Sophie,¡± the white woman said with a smile, making a bobbing motion that wasn¡¯t quite a bow. ¡°Would you like some chocolate? There¡¯s also coffee, if you prefer.¡± ¡°I do prefer, thank you miss,¡± Peter said, putting his hat back on. He looked at the black woman, smiling. ¡°Marie,¡± she said, looking him in the eye. ¡°Marie LeFleur.¡± Peter took a breath to say something, stopped for a quarter of a second as his smile faltered, and brought it back to ask ¡°Captain LeFleur?¡± Razan saw her free hand touch the hilt of a dagger on her belt. ¡°Aye,¡± she said, not breaking eye contact. Peter didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°You prefer chocolate to coffee? Or are you just drinking the fancy drink ¡®cause it¡¯s fancy?¡± The tension broke, Marie¡¯s hand relaxing. ¡°I prefer tea, but if the fancy drink is free I¡¯ll happily down ten cups a day.¡± Peter and Sophie both laughed at that. Razan finally put his spoon and egg cup in the sink. ¡°I¡¯ve only ever had tea,¡± he said carefully. ¡°Really?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Would you like me to make you some coffee and chocolate?¡± ¡°I can make two cups of coffee,¡± Peter said, looking at the things on the counter. ¡°Well, I could, if I knew which of these contraptions was a coffee pot.¡± ¡°I believe it¡¯s this one,¡± Sophie said, pulling forwards a glass pitcher with a mesh plunger in it. Then she pointed at a metal pitcher. ¡°That one boils water, so put dry coffee in this one then pour in hot water and wait a bit?¡± ¡°Sounds about right,¡± Peter said, nodding. ¡°Any grub in this place?¡± Razan stepped away, wondering if he could go back to his room and ask some questions.
Peter finished his fourth slice of toast with egg, second cup of coffee, the best orange he¡¯d ever had, and decided he¡¯d eaten enough for one meal. He wasn¡¯t hungry, but life had taught him to always eat as much as possible. There was more food, so a part of him wanted to keep eating. But another part of him suspected whatever was going to happen next was waiting for him to finish breakfast. So he picked up his cup and plate, taking them to the sink. Marie, who was rinsing out the pot Sophie had made chocolate in, glanced at him. ¡°Which side did you fight for?¡± she asked, her voice low and calm. Peter smiled amiably, leaning against the counter. ¡°The side that didn¡¯t buy muskets from pirates.¡± ¡°The winning side, then,¡± she said, setting the pot in its place and stepping back. Peter shrugged. ¡°Is there ever a winner in war?¡± Marie looked him dead in the eye, and he got the sense she knew everything. Or at least enough. He should have just said yes. ¡°Attention,¡± a new voice from the ceiling said. ¡°Please go through the door that is now opening. A presentation has been prepared which will explain your purpose here.¡± Peter looked over as a section of the wall drew back. He put his dishes in the sink, making a mental note to clean them later, and followed Marie to the door. 3 - Inti鈥檚 Satellite Inti¡¯s Satellite, Medical and Edification Area ¡°Please state your name and age, then arrange yourselves on the chairs from oldest to youngest,¡± the voice ordered. Sophie glanced around. In this room, the voice came from the far wall instead of the ceiling. There were four chairs with arms and padded seats, all in a row under a long black table covered in sand. ¡°Marie LeFleur, fifty-six,¡± Marie said, and took a seat at the end. ¡°Peter Lopez, twenty-three,¡± the cowboy said, glancing at the other man. He bowed slightly. ¡°Miyamoto Razan, twenty-five.¡± ¡°Sophie Cadbury, nineteen,¡± Sophie said, sliding into the chair furthest from Marie as Peter sat next to her. ¡°Thank you,¡± the voice said. ¡°From oldest to youngest, please state what language you are hearing.¡± Marie frowned. ¡°French.¡± ¡°Japanese,¡± Miyamoto said, nodding. ¡°Uhm, English,¡± Peter said. Sophie absently touched her scalp, where it had been itching earlier. ¡°English.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± the voice repeated. ¡°While you were asleep, a translation device was put into your ears. It automatically translates words you hear to whatever language you speak best.¡± The table hummed, and the sand arranged itself into a world map. ¡°Please point to where you are from.¡± Sophie pointed to England as Marie motioned to the Caribbean as a whole. Miyamoto touched the southern end of Japan, and Peter drew a sloppy X over where the US/Mexico border would be. ¡°Thank you,¡± the voice once again said. ¡°You are here because you almost died in an interesting manner. You would have died if not for our intervention.¡± Sophie frowned, hands clutching her purse. Her social life would have died, true, but she doubted the fall would have killed her. ¡°Because of the manner in which you almost died, we believe you would make a good group of contestants in our games,¡± the voice continued. ¡°We are from a planet far away, orbiting the star you know as Vega. On occasion we take humans who are about to die and use them for our entertainment. This is a transaction: we do not expect you to be grateful. If you wish to be returned to Earth, please say so at the end of the presentation.¡± There was a pause. Sophie didn¡¯t know what to do. Could she be returned home, just like that? And then act like this hadn¡¯t happened? Would they do something to make her forget? More importantly, did she want to go home? Go back to being a Proper Lady? She¡¯d felt trapped in that life since turning fourteen, that¡¯s why she¡¯d become a pickpocket and thief. Her mother would make sure she found a respectable husband by next year, which could only end badly. ¡­She would miss her brother. But nothing else.
¡°What sort of entertainment?¡± Marie asked. She didn¡¯t have any reason to go back, and had several reasons to want to avoid it, but that word raised alarm bells in her mind. She¡¯d seen too many people die as ¡°entertainment¡±. ¡°Contests,¡± the voice said. ¡°Mazes. Battles, not to the death. Races. Tests of endurance. You will work in a group of four, against other groups of four. Most of the contests will be on Earth, but occasionally there are contests elsewhere. They are held every Friday; you are allowed to decline up to three in a row.¡± That seemed¡­ like there was a catch. It sounded very good, which meant there was something bad coming. ¡°Will the contests be fair?¡± Miyamoto asked. Marie nodded at him; it was a good question. ¡°No, because some groups excel in areas others are completely lost in,¡± the voice explained. ¡°For example, if you four joined a contest where you individually had to race sailboats, one of you could be said to have an unfair advantage. We will not give any group special equipment not available to everyone else, and will not put one group closer to a goal than the others. But a group with someone from Scandinavia in it will have an advantage over this group in snow survival contests.¡± ¡°Where will we live?¡± Peter asked. ¡°How will we get food?¡± The table hummed again, and the sand moved to form a blueprint. ¡°You will live in a set of rooms similar to this one, with access to a Common Area where you will be able to interact with the other groups. You will also find shopping, eating, and training areas there. You can purchase individual ingredients and cook in your Group Area. Simple meals will be available for purchase, and the items you found this morning will always be available for free.¡± ¡°Free?¡± Marie asked, her eyebrows going up. ¡°Always?¡± Peter asked, staring. ¡°Yes,¡± the voice answered. ¡°You mean, no matter what, even if we¡¯re completely broke and useless, you¡¯ll still give us bread and eggs every day?¡± ¡°There is a limit of two eggs per person per day, but yes.¡± Marie watched the lanky cowboy as he tightened shaking fingers around his armrests. That was a man who¡¯d faced starvation. More than once. She¡¯d seen him eat breakfast; it had reminded her of when her crew had reached port after being on rations for a few days. Not dying but willing to eat until he was sick. Worried the food would be ripped away if it wasn¡¯t eaten fast enough. She knew he was staying, no matter what the catch was. ¡°How will we pay for things?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°I presume we¡¯ll get some sort of reward from the contests¡­¡± ¡°The monetary system used here is credits. For context, a simple meal is one credit. When you enter a contest, your group will receive twenty-eight credits. Depending on the number of contestants, the complexity of the contest, and several other factors, the winning group can get anywhere from two hundred to eight hundred credits. If you place in the top half, winnings will be seventy credits or up per group. Below that you will get fifty-six credits, twenty-eight credits, or nothing.¡± There was a brief pause. ¡°If you have anything of value, you may sell it. If you are entertaining enough, there are options for writing letters to fans or for having fans watch you in your day-to-day life. Both those things pay a small amount, but usually only become options after a number of years. Also, upon agreeing to become contestants, you will each receive one hundred credits.¡± With breakfast provided, that was enough to survive fourteen full weeks. Marie still suspected there was a catch, but fourteen weeks of free food was never something she could turn down.
Razan suspected the ¡°simple meals¡± would consist largely of sweet potato. The other three were silently considering money, so he asked a question he thought was important. ¡°What do you look like?¡± The table hummed, moving the sand to be a drawing of¡­ a hibagon. It was wearing a skirt and boots, with some sort of headdress, but it was recognizably a hibagon. Razan frowned, not sure if this was good or bad. ¡°Are there other peoples that will be watching us?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes. We are rostari, from a planet we¡¯ve named Tarsha.¡± The table hummed, changing the drawing to one of something like a dragon. ¡°This is an aire, from their planet Sala.¡± Another hum, and the sand moved to show a fox-like creature with long fingers next to a smaller and more cat-like creature. ¡°These are the luwa and chunula, both from Admau.¡± A brief pause, and the table hummed again, changing the drawing to something quite like an octopus. ¡°This is a popi, from Lapo, a planet almost entirely covered in liquid. They have the ability to watch the contests, but almost none are interested in doing so.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Why not?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°They believe they would instantly win any contest they entered, and find watching other species struggle a waste of their time,¡± the voice said. For the first time, there was a hint of emotion in it. ¡°Most of them are completely insufferable.¡± Razan sat back, slowly realizing he hadn¡¯t been rescued by some Divine Being for a Great Purpose. He¡¯d been rescued by creatures from far away purely for their own amusement. That¡­ was both a disappointment and a relief. He wouldn¡¯t have to be on his best, most holy behavior for the rest of his life, which was good. But being kidnapped by a hibagon and asked to fight in a group of¡­ He smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. He¡¯d been kidnapped a moment before death by a hibagon and asked to fight alongside a geriatric black woman, a teenaged white girl, and a cowboy. Absolutely no one would ever believe him. He barely believed it himself. The other three looked at him as he laughed harder. ¡°Will any of the contests involve sweet potatoes?¡± he asked, grinning madly. There was a pause of several seconds before the voice answered. ¡°¡­No.¡± Razan thumped his fist on the table. ¡°I would be happy to join.¡± He broke down, laughing near-hysterically.
Peter watched Miyamoto laugh, wondering what sweet potatoes had to do with anything. He caught Marie¡¯s eye; she just raised her eyebrows and blinked. On his other side, Sophie gigged. ¡°Will any contests involve broccoli?¡± she asked. ¡°There are no food-based contests,¡± the voice said, sounding a bit exasperated. ¡°Are there any alcohol-based contests?¡± Peter asked, smiling. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Shame,¡± Marie said. ¡°Those I know I could win.¡± ¡°Moving on,¡± the voice announced. ¡°You will be watched by devices we call hawks.¡± A large, bird-shaped metal thing rose up from the other side of the table and hovered. ¡°They will record everything you do in the contests, and transmit it to our planets.¡± ¡°How?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Magic,¡± the voice said. Peter sat up. ¡°Magic?¡± ¡°No,¡± the voice said. ¡°Humans do not have the words to explain how it is done yet. The simplest way to explain it without the base words is: combining light, magnets, and magic. Most of us do not know and cannot explain the process beyond light and magnets, so saying it is magic is technically correct enough while being completely wrong.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± Miyamoto said, still grinning but no longer laughing. ¡°You do?¡± Marie asked skeptically. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°The less sense things make at the beginning, the quicker we¡¯ll get used to ignoring logic. Thus our expectations will be low, and any insane thing they tell us to do in the contests we¡¯ll do without question. After being told we¡¯ve been saved by bigfoots and are being watched through fake birds by dragons and kitsune but not by self-righteous octopuses, being asked to fight other groups of humans is almost calmingly mundane.¡± Peter stared at him, then stared at the floating ¡°hawk¡±. ¡°That is not the purpose,¡± the voice said. ¡°It is, admittedly, a nice side effect, but it is not the purpose. We are simply explaining the truth as quickly and concisely as possible.¡± There was another pause. Sophie raised a hand. ¡°Why didn¡¯t kissooneh translate?¡± ¡°What?¡± the voice asked. ¡°Oh, that. There¡¯s no direct translation. Usually the program reverts to words that are close enough, but if there isn¡¯t anything close it gives the original word.¡± Peter twitched. ¡°Is there a way to turn it off? If, maybe, I spoke French, I wouldn¡¯t need the translator for Miss Marie.¡± ¡°Yes, I understand English and Spanish perfectly fine, not just French,¡± Marie said, looking at him. ¡°I only need a translator for Miyamoto.¡± Again, Peter got the sense she saw right through him. ¡°If you prefer, you can ask that the translator not work for certain languages,¡± the voice told them. ¡°You can also have it adjusted to let you know when someone is speaking a language that is being translated.¡± Peter made a mental note to do that at soon as possible. ¡°What else can it do?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Nothing, but there are versions available that can aid with mathematics or memory, and a number of other things.¡± Peter wondered if there was one that reduced the amount of water a person needed. ¡°There are also special clothes, weapons, and gadgets that can help with everything from temperature regulation to aim to long-distance communication. Most aren¡¯t universally useful, but they are available for purchase.¡± Something deep in Peter¡¯s soul moved, telling him he needed all of them.
¡°You are currently in a ship orbiting Earth,¡± the voice continued. ¡°We have a device that can instantly move you from one place to another. For some challenges we will build things on your planet, for others we hide things in certain places. Some challenges will forbid hurting other contestants, others will encourage it. We have the ability to heal most wounds. Prosthetic limbs, hands and feet are available in case of serious injury.¡± Sophie felt like she should be taking notes for a test. ¡°That should be enough information to let you decide if you wish to stay or not,¡± the voice said. ¡°Does anyone have any additional questions?¡± ¡°Will we be able to contact our families?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°To a limited degree,¡± the voice said. ¡°You may write one letter a week, which we will deliver, and you can apply to visit for short periods on special occasions.¡± Sophie nodded. That sounded reasonable. There was a pause as everyone thought the situation over. ¡°Will you agree to becoming a contestant?¡± the voice prompted. ¡°Yes,¡± Miyamoto said confidently. Peter shrugged. ¡°Yes.¡± Sophie looked at them. ¡°I¡¯ll join, yes,¡± she decided. ¡°I am an old woman, who is very stubborn,¡± Marie said slowly. ¡°You may regret asking me to join, but I will join.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± the voice said. ¡°As you will be made a group, please choose team name, colors, and leader.¡± Peter looked at Marie, smiling. ¡°Captain? Will you lead?¡± ¡°The oldest must lead, yes,¡± Miyamoto said, nodding at Marie. Sophie nodded in agreement. Marie smiled. ¡°Again; you¡¯ll regret this, but I accept.¡± ¡°Noted,¡± the voice said. ¡°How many colors?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Two. A main one and an accent color, for use on clothes and flags and other things.¡± ¡°The main color should be blue,¡± Miyamoto said. ¡°The blue of deep water on a cloudy day.¡± Sophie wondered if he was a poet. ¡°A dark, greenish-blue?¡± Marie asked. The sand changed, going from black to the color they described. Peter whistled, picking up a few grains to look at them closely. Sophie looked under the table and found several thick cords going from the floor to the tabletop. ¡°Yes, that looks good," Marie said. "And the other color?" ¡°The red of volcanic fire at night,¡± Miyamoto said, perfectly serious. Sophie sat up just in time to see the sand change color again. Peter caught Sophie¡¯s eye, smiling. ¡°Nah, I¡¯d prefer the red of a desert sunset.¡± The sand changed accordingly. ¡°I think it should be white,¡± Sophie said, smiling back. ¡°The white of freshly fallen snow on a field of grass.¡± The sand became white. ¡°I prefer the white of snow on a distant mountain,¡± Peter said. The sand didn''t change. ¡°If not white, then maybe the black of a forest at midnight?¡± Sophie tried. The sand stayed white. ¡°Or the dark green of a pine tree at midnight.¡± ¡°Or we could be elegant and go with the gold of sand at dusk.¡± ¡°No, that wouldn¡¯t work with the blue of deep water on a cloudy day, it¡¯d have to be the gold of sand at noon.¡± ¡°Of course, how silly of me,¡± Sophie said, giggling. ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking of the main color. In that case we need a more orange color, like fresh summer apricot fallen from a tree.¡± ¡°The red-orange of the center of a California poppy in spring would be better,¡± Peter said, grinning. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one of those in person; maybe the golden orange of amber?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t amber yellow?¡± he asked. ¡°Some is,¡± Sophie said, opening her purse. She rummaged through it, pulling out a silver ring with a massive amber stone on it. ¡°I was thinking this color.¡± Peter stared at the ring, then at her bracelet, then at her purse. Sophie realized he was about to ask why she had so much jewelry and panicked. Marie cleared her throat before either of them could speak. ¡°Are you two quite done?¡± she asked flatly. ¡°Yes, sorry,¡± Peter said, sitting back. Sophie set the ring on the table and shoved her purse down. ¡°That color. Yes.¡± ¡°It is a good color,¡± Miyamoto agreed, looking at the ring. Finally the sand changed from white to match the color of the amber ring. ¡°Colors have been chosen,¡± the voice said. ¡°What would you like your team name to be?¡± Sophie was too busy thinking of excuses to think of a team name. Unless she should tell the truth? They knew she¡¯d almost died in an ¡°interesting manner¡±; maybe a good thief was an asset in the contests, and she should be proud. And obviously she¡¯d succeeded in stealing. Her fall was the fault of old wood breaking, not because she¡¯d made a mistake. If they asked, she decided she would tell them. ¡°Leaves,¡± Miyamoto said. They all looked at him. ¡°Grasshoppers leap, ignoring the will of the wind,¡± he said. ¡°Butterflies flit, pushing against it. Leaves drift, taken where the wind wills. We are leaves.¡± Sophie nodded to herself. He was a poet. ¡°No,¡± Marie said. ¡°We¡¯re not calling ourselves leaves.¡± ¡°Good sentiment, though,¡± Peter said. ¡°Drifters?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not bad,¡± Sophie agreed. Marie frowned, then nodded curtly. ¡°That works. Drifters.¡± 4 - Inti鈥檚 Watcher Inti¡¯s Watcher, Group Area 27 Marie woke up, not remembering falling asleep. She looked around, noticing she was in a new room. The walls were a light cream color, not white. Other than that, there wasn¡¯t any real difference from the last room she¡¯d woken up in. Part of the wall went up, and a black metal bird hopped in. ¡°Hello,¡± it said. Marie sat up, stretching her back. She watched the bird for a few seconds before replying. ¡°Good morning.¡± ¡°I am Nop, your group¡¯s personal assistant. If you need anything or have any questions, feel free to ask me,¡± the bird said. Marie watched it a few seconds more. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°You may have noticed your change in location,¡± Nop said. ¡°You are now in your permanent home! You will not be allowed to leave this area until after your first contest, to give you time to familiarize yourself with your team and the basic level of technology.¡± ¡°Contests are every Friday, aye?¡± Marie asked. ¡°What day is it?¡± ¡°Yes, and today is Tuesday,¡± Nop said, her head bobbing. Marie didn¡¯t know why, but she presumed Nop was a female. ¡°Are you a¡­¡± The bird hopped. ¡°I am a rostari, speaking and seeing through this fake raven. I¡¯m the assistant to five contestant groups, in control of most things relating to your Group Area.¡± Marie didn¡¯t feel like a reply was necessary. She got slowly to her feet, looking for her weapons. They were on a wooden chair in the corner. ¡°You have been given the Default Bedroom,¡± Nop said. ¡°Would you like any other furniture, or to change the color of the walls? You may always request these things later.¡± The room had a bed, chair, and nightstand. Marie rubbed her hip, thinking. ¡°A desk?¡± she tried. The bird turned, facing the wall. It opened its beak, and light came out. Marie¡¯s eyebrows went up as the picture of a desk appeared on the wall. ¡°This is a basic desk, with two drawers. Is that what you would like?¡± Nop asked. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s fine,¡± Marie said. The picture vanished. ¡°It will be delivered within 24 hours. Anything else?¡± ¡°Something to hang things on?¡± A picture of a hat rack appeared. ¡°Is this what you¡¯re looking for?¡± Nop asked. ¡°Yes. Thank you.¡± The picture blinked away. ¡°It will be delivered with the desk. Anything else?¡± Marie shook her head. ¡°Not yet.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Nop hopped to the corner, where a section of the wall pulled back. ¡°Your bathroom is here. You share it with Sophie Cadbury. Everything blue-green is yours, and everything red-orange is hers.¡± Marie looked in, then smiled at the bird. ¡°You¡¯ve got that backwards.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve given a pirate and a cat burglar a shared space. She¡¯s going to steal what¡¯s mine and I¡¯ll take everything that¡¯s hers,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s nice you tried to make a distinction, but it¡¯ll be completely mixed up come Sunday.¡±
Razan looked through all the ¡°simple meal¡± options, impressed with the variety. He was tempted to order ramen for every meal, but knew he¡¯d get tired of that eventually. Instead he ordered ramen for dinner, and bento for lunch. The ¡°food week¡± went from Sunday, the day to order everything, to Thursday. Friday was the contest day; meals were provided there if necessary. Saturday was a day for eating in the Common Area or else cooking for yourself. Razan would prefer cooking for himself. ¡°I¡¯ll admit,¡± Sophie said slowly, ¡°I don¡¯t know what most of these things are.¡± ¡°Neither do I,¡± Peter said cheerfully. ¡°I¡¯m gonna try one of everything. Want to experiment with me?¡± Sophie gave him a bright smile. ¡°Certainly! Should we order the same thing at the same time, or two different dishes and split everything?¡± Razan rolled his eyes, scrolling through the individual ingredients list for rice. ¡°If something¡¯s delicious, we won¡¯t want to share,¡± Peter pointed out. Sophie nodded. ¡°Yes, but if something¡¯s vile we won¡¯t have to go hungry.¡± He pointed to the kitchen. ¡°There¡¯s bread and eggs. We won¡¯t starve.¡± ¡°True. Especially if we buy some tinned beans or something.¡± Peter looked at Razan. ¡°What did you order, Miyamoto? Something Japanese?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he answered. ¡°Bento and ramen.¡± They focused on their menus, scrolling through. ¡°There¡¯s only two varieties of each,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Is that all you got for six meals?¡± Razan shrugged. ¡°I know what I like.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that,¡± Peter said. Marie came out of her room, not carrying weapons for the first time. Razan bowed to her as the other two said good morning. ¡°There¡¯s chocolate and toast for you on the counter,¡± Sophie told her, pointing. ¡°Thank you,¡± Marie said. She got a cup of the horrid stuff and walked back to the table, sitting between Sophie and Razan. ¡°Cards down. I was a pirate. My ship was sunk by a Spanish naval ship. I would have died by drowning.¡± She looked at Sophie. ¡°You?¡± The girl fidgeted. ¡°I¡­ am a thief. I was¡­ stealing a lady¡¯s jewelry, and was almost caught. I wasn¡¯t! She never saw me, but the windowsill broke when I dropped out of sight, and I fell. I¡­ It was a long fall.¡± She glanced around the table. ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± Marie nodded, and looked at Razan. ¡°You?¡± He sat up straight. ¡°I am a samurai; raised to be one since the day I turned six years old. I was taking a meditative hike up a volcano when an earthquake struck, and I was thrown into the caldera.¡± Marie frowned at him. ¡°A meditative hike?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°What were you really doing up there?¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He felt her eyes bore through him. ¡°I was¡­ disposing of sweet potatoes.¡± ¡°Sweet potatoes?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Sophie held up a hand. ¡°You were throwing sweet potatoes into a volcano?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she laughed. Razan frowned. ¡°I hate them. I truly hate them.¡± Marie smirked, her eyebrows raised. ¡°I can¡¯t fault a man for his tastes.¡± She looked at Peter, her smirk fading. ¡°You.¡± Peter smiled brightly. ¡°I miscalculated the amount of water to take on a walk through the desert. Easy mistake.¡± ¡°No.¡± His smile lost some brilliance. ¡°I was in the desert. Walking. Without any water. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡± ¡°Why were you walking in the desert without water?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I forgot-¡± ¡°Chilango.¡± Razan didn¡¯t know what the word meant, but it stopped Peter dead. His smile turned to a glare. ¡°I¡¯m Texan,¡± Peter said through clenched teeth. ¡°I was born in Texas. I fought in the United States army, and-¡± ¡°And your parents only spoke Spanish,¡± Marie interrupted, her voice flat. ¡°Or at least that was your first language.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not Mexican,¡± he growled. ¡°You knew my name,¡± Marie said thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair. ¡°You knew what I sold. Oh, you weren¡¯t just a soldier; you were a spy. Weren¡¯t you? No one trusts a spy. Especially not the people who hire them.¡± Peter continued glaring. Marie looked at Razan. ¡°I presume you¡¯re not familiar with Mexican politics?¡± Razan shook his head. ¡°When Peter here was¡­ ten?¡± She paused, raising her eyebrows at him. Peter nodded, and she continued. ¡°The little patch of land he was born on decided to be its own country called Texas. The country it used to belong to, Mexico, didn¡¯t like that. The US of A didn¡¯t like it either, mostly because it wanted Texas for itself. So it dumped a bunch of white people into the area, and they called themselves Texans, too. The difference was, they spoke English, while all the Mexicans spoke Spanish. Five years ago, Texas decided it was fine belonging to the US of A. Mexico very much did not like that, and four years ago a war started. Mexico didn¡¯t have enough guns, so it bought them from anywhere it could get them. Like pirates, one of those pirates being yours truly. Two years ago, the white people won the war. Which would be fine, except Peter¡­¡± She flicked the hat off his head, revealing straight black hair. ¡°...Isn¡¯t white. The US of A is still a bit scared Texas will decide to be independent again, and then eventually go back to being Mexican, so Mexican-Texans are seen as potential traitors by the government, and that sentiment filters down into general distrust by white Texans.¡± Peter picked his hat off the floor. ¡°I was a ranch hand before and after the war. Discharged from the US army simply because the war was over. Someone told the ranch owner I¡¯d served in the Mexican army, which technically was true, and instead of killing me they sent me on my way. To die on my own.¡± Sophie stared at him. ¡°So you were a spy?¡± Peter nodded reluctantly. ¡°For a bit. At heart I¡¯m just a cowboy.¡± Razan frowned slightly. He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about sharing a washroom with a spy. Marie turned to Sophie, who was about to ask a thousand questions. ¡°Why do you steal?¡± ¡°How- Oh. It¡¯s fun,¡± the girl shrugged. ¡°Exciting. Why did you become a pirate?¡± ¡°It was a reward for killing slavers and taking control of their ship,¡± Marie told her. Before anyone could ask her to elaborate, she looked at Razan. ¡°What is a samurai?¡± Razan blinked, then sat up straight. His time had come.
Sophie watched her door close, then looked up. ¡°Is there a way to lock the door?¡± A small section of the wall went up, and the metallic raven hopped out. ¡°The door cannot be opened by anyone but you. It is the same with the bathroom doors.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Is there a way to lock the door?¡± Nop sighed. ¡°It is not necessary to-¡± ¡°Is there a way or not?¡± ¡°You cannot lock your door,¡± Nop said patiently. ¡°However, if you put something in the crease above it, it will refuse to open.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Sophie got a toothbrush from the bathroom and jammed it into the crease. Her door secure, she looked around. There was a small door for the bird, and a bathroom door. But there were more creases. Leaning down, she found a small, long door under her bed. ¡°What does that one do?¡± she asked Nop hopped over to her. ¡°That is the door for a floor-cleaning device.¡± ¡°May I see it?¡± ¡°No.¡± Sophie looked at the raven. ¡°Does the jamming trick work on all the doors?¡± ¡°The floor cleaner is currently working on a different part of the ship,¡± Nop said. The unanswered question was a yes, then. Nodding, Sophie sat up. She looked around, pointing to a big door opposite her bedroom door. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°That is the maintenance door,¡± Nop said. ¡°It is used to deliver furniture and such.¡± ¡°May I open it?¡± ¡°No.¡± Next she pointed to a small door by the ceiling. ¡°That?¡± ¡°That is used for dispensing the gas that puts humans to sleep.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Sophie said, wondering if she could reach it if she stood on the chair. Nop hopped to her bed. ¡°I would not recommend blocking it. We have other ways of rendering humans unconscious, but they are very unpleasant for you.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Sophie said quickly. She looked up, pointing at a grate in the ceiling. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Ventilation. You can¡¯t breathe in space. As such, the air here is constantly circulated, changing bad for good.¡± ¡°Is the air in the maintenance area good air?¡± she asked. ¡°For humans, yes. For everything not born on Earth, no.¡± Sophie blinked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Nop settled down. ¡°Humans breathe a highly corrosive gas called ¡®oxygen¡¯. In great quantities, such as the amount found in Earth¡¯s atmosphere, it is lethal to about 80% of known species. Honestly, it¡¯s a miracle life survives on your planet at all.¡± ¡°Interesting.¡± She spotted a crease in the top corner of the room and pointed. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°That is¡­ a watching device.¡± Nop sounded hesitant, like she wasn¡¯t sure how Sophie would react. Sophie looked at the crease. ¡°How many people know it¡¯s there?¡± ¡°Me, my superiors, the-¡± ¡°No, how many humans know they¡¯re being watched in their sleep?¡± Nop paused. ¡°Close to one in ten. We imply that we exclusively use birds to watch humans, and with your technology level, hardly any think we might have other syomis around. Few ask, and you are only the fourth human to ask about ceiling creases.¡± ¡°Syomis?¡± ¡°Watching/listening device.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Seeing no other doors, Sophie sat cross-legged on the bed and emptied her purse. She organized all the jewelry, then emptied her pockets. ¡°How much is all this worth?¡± she asked Nop. ¡°All together? Right now?¡± There was a pause as the bird went still, eyes scanning the gems. ¡°We¡¯d be willing to offer one million credits for the lot.¡± Sophie thought that over. She picked up the bird and walked to the bathroom. Going straight to the door opposite hers, she knocked. After a few seconds it was opened by a surprised Marie. ¡°You know how to barter and sell things, right?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°I do,¡± the older woman answered. Sophie motioned for Marie to follow, and led her to the pile of jewelry. ¡°Nop says all together, right now, this is worth one million credits.¡± Marie stared, her eyebrows as high as they could get. ¡°Did you steal from a queen?¡± she asked softly, touching a huge emerald pendant. ¡°Countess,¡± Sophie said, trying to shrug casually. Marie¡¯s sharp eyes locked on hers for a second, then she looked back at the gems. ¡°If they¡¯re worth one million as a group, sold individually they¡¯re worth more. Don¡¯t sell any until after we learn what we might need credits for.¡± Sophie nodded. ¡°Is there an order I should sell them in?¡± ¡°No,¡± Marie said slowly. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think that would matter. If I were you, I¡¯d hide the bracelets away in odd places. Having something small and valuable tucked away in case of emergency is always a good idea. Sell everything else if you like, but keep the bracelets.¡± ¡°I knew you¡¯d be a good person to ask,¡± Sophie said happily. Marie¡¯s gaze stayed on the emerald. ¡°You don¡¯t care about selling things or collecting them, do you? You just like the thrill of stealing.¡± ¡°The life of a Proper Lady is very boring,¡± Sophie said. ¡°I didn¡¯t need to steal for money; I would have given everything back if they¡¯d caught me.¡± ¡°You would have been imprisoned.¡± ¡°And that would have been an adventure.¡± Marie gave her a flat look. ¡°Would you like a necklace?¡± Sophie asked, smiling. ¡°As you said, I don¡¯t care about collecting them, and I¡¯d feel bad being exceptionally rich while the rest of the group had to save for weeks to buy something. That¡¯d make us less likely to win, too.¡± Slowly, Marie picked up the emerald pendant, her fingers running under its heavy gold chain. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Sophie said, then pointed to her door. ¡°By the way, I¡¯m using your toothbrush as a lock, I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡± Marie smiled, sliding the chain over her head. ¡°As long as you give it back.¡± 5 - Intis Watcher Inti¡¯s Watcher, Group Area 27 ¡°The contest for this Friday will be: mountain climbing race!¡± A picture appeared on the wall of an icy mountain. ¡°This is Urkinmang, in the Himalayan mountain range. Your goal will be getting from here-¡± an arrow appeared in the middle, ¡°-to here!¡± An arrow appeared at the top. ¡°You¡¯ll be provided all the usual mountain climbing gear. Just make sure to dress warm! As always, let us know by tonight if you¡¯re joining or not!¡± Peter looked at his group. ¡°Mountain climbing?¡± ¡°I can climb a mountain,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Have you scaled a wall in winter?¡± Marie asked her. ¡°A wall covered in ice?¡± ¡°Have you?¡± Sophie countered. ¡°No. I imagine it would be quite difficult.¡± Miyamoto cleared his throat. ¡°It is.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve climbed a few rocks in my time,¡± Peter said. ¡°But never in rain or snow. As long as we¡¯re careful it should be all right. Right?¡± ¡°Very careful,¡± Miyamoto insisted. He looked at Nop. ¡°Is a map of the area and a list of the provided gear available?¡± The bird closed its beak, the image vanishing. ¡°Of course! A printed map of the common route will be given to you on Friday morning. Until then, I can show a bird¡¯s-eye view of the mountain any time you like. The equipment provided per person is: backpack, 100 sy of rope, climbing harness, crampons, belay tool, ice ax, pulley, four pikes, gloves, snow mask, snow goggles, emergency bail device, compass, watch, two canteens of water, and three bags of dried nuts and fruit. Two bowls of soup and canteen replacement will be provided at noon.¡± ¡°Emergency bail device?¡± Sophie asked. Nop nodded. ¡°A button you can push if for any reason you don¡¯t want to continue in the contest.¡± ¡°Will that automatically fail us?¡± Marie asked. ¡°No. Some contests have several bailers. Mazes in particular often have people give up after a few hours. In that case, teams who spent longer in the contest rank higher than teams who bailed sooner.¡± ¡°If there¡¯s no punishment for failing, and no risk of dying, we should join,¡± Peter said. Sophie nodded. Marie looked at Miyamoto. ¡°Do your languages have a word for ¡®frostbite¡¯?¡± he asked flatly. ¡°Caught in time, we can repair most frostbitten fingers, toes and noses,¡± Nop said. Marie looked at the raven. ¡°We¡¯ll join.¡± ¡°Wonderful! Being the¡­¡± she paused, ¡°...eighth group to sign up, you will be placed on the mountain at 8:30AM. Groups are placed in half-hour increments to avoid crowding on the trail. As we don¡¯t want our contestants to die from cold and altitude shock, over the next two days I will adjust your area¡¯s air to acclimatize you to what you¡¯ll find on the mountain.¡± ¡°Should we bring our weapons?¡± Marie asked. ¡°My knives, Miyamoto¡¯s swords?¡± ¡°As you will not be interacting with other teams, weapons are not needed.¡± ¡°We need boots and warmer clothes,¡± Miyamoto said. ¡°I have boots,¡± Peter said, pointing. ¡°And I¡¯m sure my poncho¡¯s warm enough.¡± ¡°It is not,¡± Miyamoto told him. Nop hopped, catching their attention. ¡°While clothes are always available for purchase in the Common Area, you will be gifted one outfit in your team¡¯s colors. Consider yourselves lucky; snow gear includes some of the more expensive items.¡± Sophie sat up, eyes bright. ¡°We get free clothes?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Peter frowned. ¡°Is there a poncho available?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded, satisfied. ¡°And hats?¡± Marie asked. ¡°There are nearly a hundred hat styles available.¡± Peter caught her eye, and she pointed at him. ¡°I get a bigger hat than you,¡± the captain decreed. He grinned. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±
Razan frowned, debating between boots lined with waterproof fur and boots that emitted heat from their soles. He knew Marie had chosen the latter, and decided to follow her example. Suddenly the lighting in the room changed. He looked around, not quite sure what the difference was. It wasn¡¯t darker, it was¡­ ¡°The light¡¯s gone from blue to orange,¡± Sophie said, looking up. ¡°Yes,¡± Nop said. ¡°As you can¡¯t see the sun here, we change from ¡®cool¡¯ light to ¡®warm¡¯ light every twelve hours to emulate a day/night cycle. It is now 7PM.¡± Razan looked at Sophie, frowning. She acted a bit stupid, but he was starting to suspect she was quite observant. Not that this made her smart, but immediately seeing things others didn¡¯t notice was a very good skill to have. She noticed him watching her and smiled. ¡°So, what mountains have you climbed?¡± He sat up straight. ¡°As part of my training I climbed the Three Holy Mountains and meditated on their summits. It taught me much respect for life and the elements.¡± It had also instilled in him the belief that ¡°cold¡± should be an element, but he decided to not mention that. ¡°Really?¡± Peter asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a mountain-climbing, outdoorsy type. Had you pegged as a city slicker.¡± ¡°It was training,¡± Marie said, not looking up from her scroll device. ¡°He probably hated every minute of the climb.¡± ¡°Not every minute,¡± Razan said. ¡°Looking out at the world from the top of a mountain is truly a beautiful experience. Sleeping above the clouds with only stars around you brings a peace otherwise unachievable. ¡­But yes, getting there and back down was quite miserable. Especially from Mount Haku, where I had to get back down through a blizzard.¡± Sophie looked at his hands and shoes. ¡°Did you lose anything from frostbite?¡± ¡°By the mercy of the heavens, no.¡± He paused, glancing at Marie. ¡°I do not wish to take the position of leader, but I believe in the contest I may have some insight you lack.¡± That got Marie to look up. ¡°I¡¯m from Haiti, I¡¯ve only seen snow twice in my life. I know sleet and cold, but not ice. I know how to climb a mast in a hurricane; on rock I¡¯m lost. Don¡¯t think you¡¯ll offend me by speaking up if we¡¯re about to do something stupid.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°I know rock, but I¡¯ve never dealt with snow,¡± Peter said. ¡°Whenever it came around we all just hid inside.¡± Sophie smiled. ¡°I know snow, but not rock. I doubt we¡¯ll find a brick wall on the mountain.¡± Marie looked at Razan again. ¡°For this contest we¡¯ll defer to your better judgment.¡± Razan bowed. ¡°Thank you. I do not imply I know all; as you said, I hated mountain climbing. If you believe I¡¯m wrong, it¡¯s quite possible I am.¡± She nodded, then sat back. ¡°Do all samurai climb the three holy mountains?¡± ¡°Most have climbed either Mount Fuji or Mount Haku. To climb all three is the goal, but some have duties that make this impossible.¡± ¡°Are all samurai poets?¡± Sophie asked suspiciously. ¡°They say men who spend the night on a mountain become poets.¡± Razan looked at her, keeping all emotion off his face. ¡°Yes. Every samurai is a renowned poet. Or aspires to become one.¡± The girl nodded. ¡°Thought so.¡± Marie watched him. ¡°For the first time in many, many years¡­ I can¡¯t tell if that was a lie.¡± A smile twitched on his lips. ¡°Ah. It¡¯s a lie.¡±
Sophie was about to scream from boredom. Tuesday had been fairly busy. Wednesday¡­ hadn¡¯t been. She¡¯d gotten to know everyone, but other than talk there wasn¡¯t anything to do. Thursday promised more of same. She went back to her bedroom after breakfast and collapsed on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She¡¯d hung a hand towel over the crease in her wall where the camera was, and it demanded to be replaced with something more decorative. The furniture options hadn¡¯t included any paintings or even printed wallpaper. Sophie sighed, her eyes trailing to the ventilation grate. It had four screws holding it in place, and she wondered idly how tightly they were screwed in. She bet she could unscrew them with a butter knife¡­ Frowning, she propped herself up on her elbows. She could probably unscrew them with a butter knife. The vent looked big enough for her to fit in. Where did the shaft go? As quietly as possible, she got up and pulled her new desk into the middle of the room. Climbing up, she discovered the vent was just within reach. So she could unscrew it, but not climb in. Sad, but knowing if the screws could be removed might be important information later. Sophie left her room, walking casually to the kitchen. Miyamoto was the only one in the area. He watched as she took a knife and went back to her bedroom. She stopped at the door, glancing at him. If she stood on his shoulders, she could at least see what the inside of the shaft looked like. She gave him her brightest smile. ¡°Miyamoto! Would you like to help me with something?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said flatly. ¡°Why not?¡± she asked, pouting. ¡°I do not know what you intend to do with that knife.¡± Sophie paused. He had a point. ¡°Please? I know you don¡¯t have anything better to do.¡± He sighed, getting up. ¡°Boredom wins over reason,¡± he muttered. He followed her into her room. She hopped onto the desk, smiling. ¡°Just a moment.¡± She fit the knife into a screw and twisted. It resisted at first, but quickly began to turn. A few seconds later it dropped into her hand. ¡°Hold this please,¡± she said, handing Miyamoto the screw. He took it, looking it over. ¡°Why are you removing them?¡± ¡°Just to see,¡± she said, handing him the second screw. Soon all four were out, and she lowered the grate to her desk. It was surprisingly light; she¡¯d expected it to have the weight of steel, but it felt flimsier than tin. She jumped down, shoved the desk left a few inches, and climbed back up. ¡°Please stand there and let me step onto your shoulders,¡± she said, pointing to the spot directly under the vent. He watched her through narrow eyes for a few moments, then shrugged and stepped into place. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said cheerfully, putting her foot on his shoulder. Grabbing the edge of the vent, she pushed herself up. It went up for about a handbreadth, then turned and ran horizontally the length of her room, the bathroom, and Marie¡¯s room. At the end there was a spinning fan, while along the shaft there were gaps where vents split off. Cold air moved around her as she reached in and tapped the shaft with her knuckles. It was made of the same flimsy metal as the grate. ¡°Will you be long?¡± Miyamoto asked, grumbling. She felt him adjust his footing. Sophie looked around, and decided to explore. She dug her fingernails into a seam, propped her elbows on cold metal, and pulled herself in. Miyamoto took her foot and helped her up. She hadn¡¯t been expecting that, but was thankful. It was a tight fit, but she¡¯d climbed tighter chimneys. Compared to the chimney in her London apartment, this shaft was practically cavernous. It was infinitely cleaner, too. She reached the first gap, one that went right, and carefully looked around the corner. A vent let out on a wide, dimly-lit corridor. There were tubes and pipes running along the far wall, all marked with strange letters. A grate was held up with the same type of screw as hers had been, meaning she could easily remove it and climb out. A part of her that her mother had always deplored insisted she do this immediately. As Sophie looked at the grate, her mind was filled with lines and measurements. Did the corridor go all the way around their area? How many areas were there? Were the corridors watched? Who had access to them, and for what? What did the pipes do? How much trouble would she be in if she were caught wandering around the corridors? ¡°Miss Sophie?¡± Miyamoto called, his voice echoing up. ¡°You¡¯re not stuck, are you?¡± She turned. ¡°No, thank you.¡± ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Actually, would you mind handing me my purse?¡± she asked, backing up a bit. ¡°It¡¯s on the chair.¡± ¡°Not at all,¡± he said. Sophie dangled a foot out her vent, and soon felt him wrap the strap around her ankle. With a thanks, she pulled her foot back up and twisted around so she could pull her knee up to her chest. She took the meat hook and rope out of her purse, inspecting nearby seams. Choosing the seam second-closest to her vent, she jammed the edge of the meat hook in. A few whacks with her fist, and it was as secure as it could be. After that, it was a simple thing to drop the rope out and climb back into her room. Miyamoto stood back as she descended, ready to catch her if she fell. ¡°Fancy jewelry and fine rope; what else do you keep in your purse?¡± he asked, his voice still mostly bored. ¡°Oh, pin money, a sewing kit, spare laces, a folding knife, lockpicks¡­ And an assortment of other things a lady might find useful in her day-to-day life,¡± she answered, dropping the last few inches. ¡°Folding knife?¡± Sophie nodded, opening her purse. Her knife had its own pocket, so she found it instantly and pulled it out. ¡°A knife. It folds.¡± She offered it to him, and he accepted with a small bow. He opened it, examining the blade as she moved her desk into place and climbed up to put the grate back on. She curled the rope up, setting it on the grate where it would be invisible before twisting the screws back in. As much as she wanted to, she couldn¡¯t explore everything yet. She had to wait until Saturday or Sunday, when she was sure she wouldn¡¯t be missed. ¡°A good weapon,¡± Miyamoto said, bowing slightly as he offered it back to her. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, putting it back into her purse. ¡°I stole it from my brother.¡± He looked disapproving. ¡°It is bad luck to steal a weapon. It will break when you need it most. You should return it and buy one of your own.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± He paused. ¡°I will make no complaint about stealing food or jewelry. But items you rely on for safety, such as a knife or rope, ought to be bought fairly. A stolen weapon can only hold bad karma.¡± Sophie pushed her desk back where it belonged. ¡°What¡¯s karma?¡± Miyamoto took a seat, folding his hands in his lap. She was about to get a lecture.
Marie looked at her new clothes. They¡¯d appeared on her desk during lunch. The blue long-sleeved shirt was soft, made of a fabric that stretched as she put it on, then fit like a hug. Her room was growing a bit cold for her liking, and the thick shirt felt warm. Oddly, the dark red-orange trousers almost felt like they were made of velvet. They hung loose on her legs, held up by a blue cloth belt. There was also a bigger pair of trousers, these paper-thin and made of a clear material she had no chance at identifying. Their only benefit was that they were waterproof. They had clips that attached to her belt instead of belt hoops. Marie didn¡¯t care for how they looked, but knew being cold and dry was survivable while being cold and damp wasn¡¯t. She¡¯d been gifted three pairs of socks for choosing the simplest ones available. Half the words they¡¯d used to describe socks she wasn¡¯t certain were even French. These were blue, made of wool, and that was all. Her new cavalier boots, on the other hand, were beautiful. They were a darker red-brown from her trousers, with several (mostly ornamental) blue buckles. The outside was a thick leather, while the inside from ankle down was padded and lined with silk. The rubber soles were thicker than what Marie was used to, but when she kicked the heels together they grew warm. Heat radiated up, beginning in her toes. The sensation was divine. The boots came with instructions to leave them on a provided mat when she wasn¡¯t wearing them. Marie doubted she¡¯d ever take them off. A long jacket, blue with red-orange trim and buttons, was made of a stiff material that reminded her of the canvas used for sails. It was lined with red-orange satiny fabric that was, apparently, nearly waterproof. She had to admit it looked more elegant than her old leather jacket. Lastly there came a red-orange bandana to keep her graying hair in place, and a blue leather tricorn hat. Sadly, there hadn¡¯t been any good hats with feathers. Dressed in all her new finery, Marie went into the bathroom and looked herself over in the mirror. Her old crew would still recognize her. She looked like the fierce pirate captain her reputation claimed she was. If thousands of people were going to watch her climb a mountain in eighteen hours, at least she could face the challenge knowing she looked fantastic. 6 - Nepal Urkinmang Mountain, Nepal There was a strange blue glow, accompanied by a pins-and-needles feeling, and then there was cold. Peter pulled his hands up to his chest, immediately shivering. Next to him, Sophie yelped and Marie muttered a string of curses in four languages. Only Miyamoto seemed fine with the temperature drop. Well, not fine. He looked resigned. It was night here; a full moon hung in the clear sky. Peter looked around at a landscape unlike anything he¡¯d ever seen and wondered if he was still on Earth. The snow, ice and rock were so completely different from what he knew and had imagined. If someone told him they were standing on a new planet, he¡¯d believe it. ¡°No use dying here,¡± Marie hissed. ¡°It¡¯s a race. Let¡¯s go.¡± She stomped a few paces, stopped, and looked around. ¡°We¡¯re meant to go up, aye?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Miyamoto said, following her. He pointed up the mountain, to where dark shapes were moving. ¡°We follow them.¡± ¡°Th-that makes th-things easy,¡± Sophie said, her teeth chattering. Peter stepped next to her as they followed the older members of the team. ¡°I¡¯d gallantly offer my poncho if you¡¯re cold, but I think I¡¯d turn into an icicle without it.¡± She flashed him a smile, pulling her backpack around. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine once my blood is pumping, I¡¯m sure.¡± After rummaging around a bit, she fished out the odd sock-like mask and slid it over her face. ¡°I no longer find this thing funny-looking. It¡¯s warm.¡± Peter immediately found his mask and pulled it on, setting his new cowboy hat on top. Somehow the mask made his whole body feel warmer. Marie turned to make sure they were following, saw the masks, and stopped to find hers. Miyamoto did the same. When they were once again trudging upwards, Peter looked around. It was a breathtakingly gorgeous place; white snow covered jagged mountains that stretched off into the distance. There were no sounds to break the peace, and no creatures but hovering birds to distract from the view. ¡°Is snow supposed to feel like this?¡± Marie asked, watching her feet sink down with each step. ¡°Yes,¡± Sophie and Miyamoto answered at the same time. Peter smiled. ¡°Strange, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°I thought it was like sand,¡± Marie said. ¡°This is more like¡­ water, but with a solid shape.¡± Sophie giggled. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what it is.¡± ¡°Hush, girl,¡± Marie snapped. ¡°Sorry.¡± Miyamoto looked up the mountain. ¡°It may become slippery further up. I suggest we tie lengths of rope between us.¡± Marie agreed. They spent the next few minutes arranging rope as they climbed upwards. The climb quickly became steeper, with more rock showing through the snow. Peter was silent, watching his new leather boots crunch snow down. He was glad to have new clothes; Miyamoto had been right when he¡¯d said Peter¡¯s old things wouldn¡¯t be enough for the cold. As it was, his lungs and ribs ached from the sharp air. He focused on breathing for a few seconds, then cleared his throat. ¡°Am I crazy, or is it hard to breathe?¡± he asked. ¡°It is,¡± Marie said, glancing back at him. ¡°I¡¯m glad it¡¯s not just my old lungs that feel it.¡± ¡°The air high on mountains is poisonous,¡± Miyamoto said. ¡°Humans are not meant to be here; it is too close to the place of the gods. Breathing becomes easier after a few days if one is respectful.¡± ¡°What happens if one isn¡¯t respectful?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Death.¡± There was a pause, then Marie let out a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m glad we won¡¯t be here more than a day, then,¡± she said. Peter tucked the edges of his new sea-blue poncho into his belt as a gust of wind swept down the mountain. ¡°Forget the air, I¡¯d die from cold.¡±
Sophie picked up an interesting rock and slipped it into one of her many pockets. Her new trousers, made of thick blue almost-corduroy, had six pockets. Her hooded coat, blue outside, red-orange inside, made of unknown materials, had four pockets. And her belt, red-orange leather, came with two small pouches and a knife sheath. She didn¡¯t have a knife that fit yet, but planned on buying one as soon as possible. While not pebble hunting, she watched the seven teams ahead of them. There was a sheer rock part coming up, where all advancement seemed to stop for a bit, then the mountain tilted to¡­ She judged it to be 30 degrees. Halfway between the sheer bit and the peak it leveled out to somewhere around 40 or 45 degrees. And at the end there was a small vertical climb to the summit. She was going to be dead by the end of the day. Occasionally she glanced back. There was a team following them now; four black dots climbing through the sea of white. A hawk hovered exactly between them, and she could tell her team was slowly pulling ahead. There was a muffled cry above them. Sophie looked up in time to see someone fall from the sheer rock. They hit the snow, sending a small white cloud into the air. Two teammates ran to check, while the one who¡¯d already climbed shouted something down. There was a conversation, which she only heard as echoed concern. The teammate above yelled a command, and the two who could stand did. A blue glow surrounded the area, spiriting them away. Peter cursed under his breath. Marie cursed out loud. Miyamoto glared at them. ¡°Respect,¡± he snapped. ¡°Sorry,¡± Peter said. ¡°I¡¯m not sorry,¡± Marie said. ¡°I hope that poor bastard is still alive. That was a damn long fall, and landing must have hurt like hell. My apologies to any spirits that are listening, but I¡¯m not talking to them.¡± Miyamoto sighed, starting to walk again. Sophie realized they¡¯d all stopped, and ran a few steps before slowing to a walk. There was only one team between them and the team that had vanished. That meant they had about an hour to prepare. ¡°When we get to the cliff, who will climb first?¡± Sophie asked. Miyamoto glanced at Marie, then at her. ¡°I believe it would be best if you and I climbed at the same time, with a rope between us. Then we can lower a rope down and pull Madam Marie and Mr Peter up.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°You sure you can lift us?¡± Peter asked. ¡°No offense, but you two are the smallest.¡± ¡°A man can lift four times his weight with the proper leverage,¡± Marie said. She pulled a wheel thing out of her backpack. ¡°We have pulleys. Slide the rope through, then Sophie can stand near the edge and hold it while Miyamoto hangs the rope over his shoulder and walks away. Not saying it¡¯ll be easy, but it won¡¯t be hard.¡± ¡°Is that what those are for,¡± Peter said, looking at the wheel. ¡°I suppose you have hundreds of them on ships.¡± ¡°Not exactly, but close enough to be able to recognize what it is,¡± Marie shrugged, putting the pulley away. Sophie debated asking if she knew what all the other things they¡¯d been given were. Some things, like the mask and water canteen, were obvious. But there was a small, bent piece of metal with two holes in it that baffled her, and the teeth for shoes looked more like a weapon than climbing gear. They should be on the 30 degree part by noon; Sophie decided to bring it up then.
Razan stared up the cliff. He¡¯d volunteered to climb it. Why had he done that? What suicidal part of his brain had thought this was a good idea? There was no way he could climb this. Next to him, Sophie finished tying his rope to her harness and bounced a few times. ¡°Ready?¡± Razan felt that he would never be ready, but nodded. Sophie laughed. ¡°Race you to the top!¡± She swung her ice ax into the wall of rock and pulled herself up with an ease Razan wouldn¡¯t have thought possible two days before. He, with much more caution, set the toe of his boot on a tiny ledge and stepped up. Sophie, her knees already at his head¡¯s height, stopped. She looked down as Razan took a small step up. ¡°Drag your toe along the rock,¡± she said. ¡°Rely on feel, not sight. Peter, may I borrow your ax?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Peter said, moving to hand her his ice ax as Razan managed a third timid step. ¡°Thanks!¡± She adjusted her grip on it, shoved the tip into a crevice, and continued her climb. Razan tried to keep up. He was hampered by stiff, cold fingers and a fear of falling, but at least he was moving. Sophie got far enough ahead that the rope between them stopped her. She let go of an ax, dangling her right foot over nothing as she looked down. ¡°Come on, Miyamoto, this is a race!¡± she called, taunting. Razan pushed himself up, his body hugging the cliff. ¡°I¡¯d rather not die, thank you,¡± he called back. ¡°It¡¯s better to be cautious and live.¡± She laughed. ¡°You sound like my mother.¡± She swung her foot back onto the cliff and climbed a few steps more. Razan grumbled to himself that her mother sounded like a sensible woman as he tried to climb even half as quickly as Sophie. But he really, truly, did not want to fall. He pushed his ax into a crevice and tried to pull himself up, searching for a new toehold. A piece of rock cracked off as he put his weight on it, the ax suddenly dropping. He stupidly let go, his foot slipping on sheer rock. With a yelp, he clawed at the cliff for any purchase. Razan felt himself start to fall. Suddenly the rope went taught, pulling his harness up. He found a ledge to grab and dug his frozen fingers into the stone. Breathing hard, he finally felt his boot catch on something. He hugged the cliff, trying to melt into the rock. ¡°Still alive?¡± Sophie asked. He glared at the rock pressed against his nose. ¡°No.¡± The rope loosened, making him look up. Sophie was untying the rope from around her waist. ¡°Stay there!¡± Razan wasn¡¯t planning on moving until an earthquake shook his frozen corpse off the cliff, so he accepted this order without question or comment. He heard Peter yell something from below, but couldn¡¯t decipher the exact words. The sound of his own breathing was too loud. Minutes passed, or perhaps hours, or perhaps seconds, as Razan became one with the mountain. His heart slowed to a rate that wasn¡¯t painful. His toes began to ache. His scalp itched. He made a few haikus about black rock. Something bonked him on the head. He looked up to find Sophie dangling her rope off the top of the cliff. She¡¯d tied an ice ax to one end; it was the ax that had hit him. ¡°Grab hold!¡± she called. ¡°I¡¯ll pull you up!¡± It took every grain of logic in Razan¡¯s soul to decide accepting the rope was better than spending the rest of his life pressed against a cliff. After drawing a few deep breaths for courage, he reached out and grabbed the rope just above where the ax was tied. Soon he had the rope tied to his harness, the ax hanging off his belt, and both hands gripping a crack in the stone. He called to Sophie, and she started pulling. It didn¡¯t feel safer than how he had been climbing, but having someone constantly pulling him up forced Razan to move faster. It wasn¡¯t long before he was laying safely on snow, panting. ¡°Having fun?¡± Sophie asked sweetly. Razan tried to say something sarcastic, but it came out as a grumble. ¡°Excellent,¡± she replied. ¡°Would you mind untying the rope so I can throw it to Peter and Marie?¡± He tugged at the knot until it came loose. As she thanked him, he fell asleep.
Marie climbed over the edge of the cliff with relative ease and knelt in the snow, breathing hard. Her lungs still ached. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, letting her old bones relax. When she opened them, she saw Sophie sitting a few paces away, next to a sleeping Miyamoto. Marie motioned to the man, and Sophie shrugged. Marie got up, moving away from the edge. ¡°Come, sit here, hold the pulley for me.¡± Sophie scooted down to where Marie indicated as Marie found the pulley in her backpack and handed it over. She took it without a word, her movements slow. ¡°Put the teeth on your boots,¡± Marie ordered. ¡°Dig them into the snow so you don¡¯t slide.¡± The girl nodded, digging in her backpack for crampons. Marie took the rope out of her own backpack and tossed it down to Peter. As he tied it to his harness, Marie slid her end of the rope through the pulley. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Sophie said, gripping the handle tightly in both hands. Marie put a hand on the girl¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re doing wonderfully.¡± She turned away and slung the rope over her shoulder. Admittedly, Marie hadn¡¯t worked this hard in years. The captain of a ship doesn¡¯t haul lines unless something has gone extremely, terribly wrong. Still, she¡¯d done her fair share of pulling ropes around in her youth, and her muscles knew what to do. Her eyes focused on a spot about the right distance away, her feet and legs moved like pistons to get there, and her spine adjusted to the weight over her shoulder. An old, familiar duty. Marie reached the spot and turned, checking if Peter was at the edge yet. Not quite. His hand was on the snow, grasping for something. Sophie set the pulley down and grabbed his wrist, hauling him over the edge. Marie walked back to them as they collapsed into the snow. ¡°How long until noon?¡± Sophie asked, staring up at the stars. Peter sat up, glancing at Miyamoto. ¡°According to my stomach, about three minutes ago.¡± Marie smiled, checking the watch on her backpack. ¡°Forty minutes, I¡¯m sad to say.¡± Sophie groaned. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to sit here that long,¡± Marie said. ¡°We don¡¯t have to move quickly, but we do need to continue.¡± ¡°May we have five minutes for a small snack?¡± Peter asked. Marie could tell he was smiling under his mask. ¡°Putting something in our stomachs will make walking easier.¡± ¡°That I¡¯ll allow.¡± She walked over to Miyamoto and gently kicked him awake. ¡°Eat. Drink. We¡¯re moving in five minutes.¡± He sighed, but to his credit he didn¡¯t complain. It took him a few tries to sit up, though. They found their packets of fruit and nuts and silently ate, looking out at the horizon. Well, Peter and Miyamoto gazed blankly at the horizon. Sophie looked at everything, and Marie watched her team members. Miyamoto had nearly fallen; fear made people tired. She couldn¡¯t blame him for fainting as soon as he was safe. But that meant Sophie had done most of the work in pulling three people up a cliff. The girl didn¡¯t look particularly muscular, but she had more strength and energy than Marie would have ever guessed. And Peter¡­ He had good survival instincts. Marie was the type of person to push herself too far, but she got the sense he never would. He¡¯d feel no shame in saying if he couldn¡¯t do something. Once again, she wondered how many times he¡¯d looked Death in the eyes. ¡°The footprints change,¡± Sophie suddenly said, staring up the mountain. ¡°The what now?¡± Peter asked. Marie followed Sophie¡¯s eyes, and understood. ¡°The footprints. We¡¯ve been following seven teams all day, and the footprints have been the same. But here they¡¯re all different,¡± Sophie said. Miyamoto frowned. ¡°What?¡± Marie pointed to the teeth on Sophie¡¯s boots. ¡°It looks like all the teams are putting those on at this point.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Should we put them on, too?¡± Peter asked. ¡°There¡¯s a good chance they know something we don¡¯t.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°Yes. Put them on, then we move.¡± Miyamoto bowed slightly. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Oui, mon capitan,¡± Peter said, raising his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. Marie raised her eyebrows at him. ¡°Cowboy, if you ever attempt to speak French again, I will castrate you.¡± Sophie pulled the mask down over her face, smothering a giggle. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am, sorry ma¡¯am,¡± Peter said, suddenly very busy with his backpack. Miyamoto was staring at Marie in alarm. ¡°You¡¯re not joking. Why are you not joking? Is that something you¡¯ve done before?¡± Marie gave him an evil grin, slowly pulling her mask on. 7 - Nepal Urkinmang Mountain, Nepal There was a ding from everyone¡¯s watches. Sophie glanced at hers to discover it was noon. A faint blue glow appeared ahead of them, which quickly took the shape of a raven. Nop flapped her wings a few times before settling lightly on the snow. ¡°Hello! How are you all doing?¡± she asked. ¡°Hungry,¡± Sophie answered immediately. ¡°Very hungry.¡± ¡°Good! Please sit down. Lunch will appear when you are ready.¡± Miyamoto¡¯s knees buckled, and he collapsed. ¡°Ready.¡± Peter flopped down, only slightly less controlled than Miyamoto. ¡°Ready.¡± Sophie glanced at Marie, who looked back with raised eyebrows. Being respectable ladies, they carefully sat down, settling into the snow as if it were a very cold chair. In reality, the angle of the mountain was sharp enough that laying down felt more like sitting in a tilted-back rocking chair. Sophie found it quite comfortable. Granted, a bed of nails would have felt comfortable to her at this point, but that was neither here nor there. ¡°Ready,¡± she said. Marie yawned. ¡°Ready.¡± Nop hopped in a circle, making a flat spot in the snow. When she finished, the area was filled with a blue glow. The glow faded, revealing eight water canteens and eight cylinders. Sophie took one of the cylinders and unscrewed the top to find it was a wide-mouthed bottle filled with hot soup. She took a sip. It was thick, creamy, and delicious. The ingredients were a mystery to her, but she didn¡¯t care. Being given food, she suddenly realized she was starving. It didn¡¯t take long for her to empty the first bottle, but Peter and Marie were already on their second when Sophie screwed her lid back on. ¡°Remember to breathe,¡± she told them, reaching for her second bottle. Marie didn¡¯t respond. Peter paused long enough to flash her an apologetic smile before returning to his soup. ¡°May I ask what this is made of?¡± Miyamoto asked Nop, taking his second bottle. ¡°The base is barley and beef stock,¡± Nop said. ¡°Ask when you get back to your area, and I¡¯ll provide you with a full list of ingredients.¡± He nodded, squinting into the bottle. Peter set his empty bottle down. ¡°My compliments to your chef,¡± he said. ¡°Any chance for a third?¡± ¡°No, sorry,¡± Nop replied. ¡°Never hurts to ask,¡± he sighed, laying back down. ¡°Say, if it¡¯s noon, why isn¡¯t the sun out?¡± ¡°It is noon for you. The local time is three thirty in the morning.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°How?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a concept humans know, but haven¡¯t fully grasped,¡± Nop said slowly. Marie interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s noon at different times in different places. I¡¯ve never been far enough outside the Caribbean to notice it other than on a watch, but if we¡¯re halfway around the planet from there, makes sense it¡¯s night here.¡± Nop nodded. ¡°Actually, your noon corresponds to the Hawaiian Archipelago.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°It¡¯s the first part of the planet we explored. If you¡¯d like to know why, I can give you a history book tonight.¡± Peter sat up abruptly. ¡°If we don¡¯t move soon I¡¯ll fall asleep. Everyone done eating?¡± Nop hopped. ¡°Actually, you¡¯re required to stay in one place for half an hour. If you¡¯re tired, imagine how the team that started at five in the morning feel. They got half an hour¡¯s rest when the sixth team bailed, but in the spirit of fairness everyone is required to stop now.¡± Peter yawned. ¡°Ah, well, in that case¡­¡± He let himself fall back into the snow and pulled his hat over his eyes. ¡°I agree,¡± Marie said, copying him. ¡°Wake me when it¡¯s time to go.¡± Sophie smiled, finishing her soup. She put the bottle back and stretched out on the snow. Stars sparkled above, seemingly close enough to touch. Within seconds she was asleep.
Marie could barely breathe. They were close to the final vertical climb, but she wasn¡¯t sure she could make it. The only thing keeping her moving was the tug from Miyamoto¡¯s rope. As the afternoon had progressed, wind picked up. Not strong enough to knock anyone down, but it made the mountain feel colder than anything Marie had ever experienced. Air froze in her throat as she breathed. If there wasn¡¯t any ice in her lungs she¡¯d be surprised. Finally her toe caught on something, and she fell. Marie collapsed into the snow, lacking the energy to move. She just wanted to sleep. Peter yelled something, and the two men pulled her into a sitting position. Sophie rubbed Marie¡¯s hands between her own, asking something. Her words sounded far away. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Marie closed her eyes. The group moved around, talking, calling. She let the words wash over her. Eventually she felt someone poking her in the cheek, and opened her eyes. Sophie smiled, sitting back. ¡°Can you make it a bit further?¡± the girl asked. ¡°Nop says if two of us reach the finish it¡¯ll count as a win, but your distance behind us does matter.¡± Peter added, ¡°If you can make it to the cliff, Sophie and I will continue on while Miyamoto stays with you at the bottom.¡± Miyamoto bowed. ¡°I will help you walk.¡± It took a few seconds for Marie to nod. The samurai bowed again, then hauled her to her feet. She wobbled a bit, but he held her steady. Peter and Sophie started walking, while Miyamoto waited for Marie to take a few steps before moving alongside her. ¡°Good lad,¡± she muttered. ¡°Thank you. Let me know if you need to stop,¡± he said. Marie grunted, watching the younger members of the group pull ahead. The mountain was too silent; it made her nervous. ¡°Have you ever felt this cold?¡± she asked, just to start a conversation. Miyamoto understood what she wanted. ¡°Cold has a magical quality,¡± he said. ¡°As soon as you¡¯re warm, you forget what it felt like. I believe this is the coldest I have ever been, yes. But I believe that every time I climb a mountain. I¡¯ve believed it every winter of my life. If we live to climb another mountain, I will believe that is the coldest I have ever been. Is it truly? Most likely not. But I believe it now and will believe it again.¡± Marie slowly nodded. ¡°Do you think heat is the same?¡± ¡°Either it isn¡¯t, or I have not experienced true heat,¡± he said thoughtfully. Marie kept asking questions as they made their way up the mountain. Miyamoto gave long-winded, philosophical answers to all of them. By the time they reached the cliff, Sophie was already pulling Peter up. Marie sank down, leaning against the wall. Each breath hurt; everything inside her ached. ¡°This is ice,¡± Miyamoto stated. With difficulty, Marie opened her eyes and turned to him. He was touching the cliff, fascinated. ¡°This isn¡¯t rock,¡± he said, glancing at her. ¡°It¡¯s a glacier.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± Marie yawned, closing her eyes again. She heard him muttering, and opened one eye. He was on his knees, praying to the glacier. Or at least that¡¯s what she guessed he was doing. Marie¡¯s eye wandered to the stars. She''d known several people who would pray when they saw beauty like this. Alas, she wasn''t one of them. Instead, she fell asleep.
Peter got to the edge and pulled himself over. Thankfully, this area was almost flat. He took a few steps, smiling. ¡°I never imagined walking on a flat surface would feel so refreshing,¡± Sophie said. ¡°It¡¯s so easy to walk here,¡± Peter agreed. ¡°I could almost run!¡± She giggled. ¡°Almost. But I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°A slow walk is best if we want to enjoy it, yes,¡± he said. ¡°Where are we going?¡± Sophie looked around, then pointed to where a hawk was flying in small circles. ¡°I bet the end mark is directly under that.¡± Peter nodded, but checked his compass all the same. ¡°It¡¯s east-south-east of us. Is that where we¡¯re headed?¡± Sophie paused. ¡°Oh. Miyamoto has the map.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± They looked at each other blankly for a few seconds, then Sophie giggled again. Peter snickered, and soon they were laughing so hard he felt light-headed. ¡°Let¡¯s just go towards the hawk,¡± he eventually said, wiping tears out of his eyes. ¡°Excellent idea,¡± she said, taking a step. ¡°Look, footprints!¡± ¡°From the teams before us?¡± he asked, squinting at snowed-in indentations. ¡°Who else could have made them?¡± she countered. ¡°They¡¯re heading towards the hawk; I¡¯m certain that¡¯s where we need to go.¡± ¡°Right. We don¡¯t need a map!¡± ¡°Indeed not!¡± ¡°We left it with Miyamoto on purpose.¡± ¡°Precisely!¡± They started walking, Sophie going first. They were both still faintly laughing. It honestly wasn¡¯t funny. But exhaustion combined with pain and extremely thin air was making Peter feel drunk. He was growing dizzy, which a part of him suspected meant he was about to faint. They were so close to the finish. If he squinted he could see a red flag whipping in the wind. It was at most fifteen minutes away. ¡°We can do this,¡± he said, mostly to himself. ¡°We can,¡± Sophie echoed. A hawk flew up to them and circled as they trudged through snow. Peter knew people were watching through the hawk, but it felt like he was being stared at by a bird. He wondered how tired he looked. Were Sophie and he more exhausted than the other teams had been at this point? Did it matter? Suddenly a snowball hit him in the face. A few flakes stuck to his mask as he turned to look at Sophie. She was focused on the flag, hands clasped behind her back. Peter¡­ decided it had been a hallucination. He shook his head, picking up his pace. Sophie moved faster, too. Another snowball hit him, this time on the shoulder. He glared at Sophie, who was radiating innocence. Her walk was as proper and ladylike as possible for someone moving through two feet of snow. She looked at him with wide, inquiring eyes. Peter turned away, then looked back just as she bent over to scoop up more snow. He stopped walking. Sophie stopped as well. She locked her gaze on his, slowly compressing the snow in her hands into a ball. ¡°Sophie,¡± he warned. With one motion, she threw the snowball at his face and took off running for the flag. Well, ¡°running¡± was the wrong word for someone hopping through thigh-height snow, but it¡¯s what she was attempting. Peter grabbed a fistful of snow, shoved it together, and threw it at her back. She laughed as it hit, tossing a snowball over her shoulder at him. He ran after her, dodging easily. Somehow he forgot how tired he was as he chased Sophie towards the flag, both throwing snowballs as fast as they could make them. At some point a second hawk flew over to watch their battle. Peter had better aim, but Sophie could make snowballs almost as fast as she threw them. When they were a dozen feet from the flag, Sophie tripped, landing face-first in the snow. In the spirit of competition, Peter dropped his latest snowball and ran for the flag. Sophie yelled, scrambling after him. Peter laughed as a snowball hit him in the back of the head, launching himself at the flagpole. He hit the snow and slid the last few inches, his fingers grazing the pole. As he cheered, Sophie tripped over his boot, stumbled, and crashed into the flagpole. A blue glow surrounded them as they laughed, accompanied by a now-familiar tingling. The glow faded, leaving them in a warm room with Marie and Miyamoto. The air, which still seemed artificial to Peter, rushed into his lungs like a soothing balm. He gasped, his body insisting he do nothing but breathe. ¡°Did you roll to the finish?¡± Miyamoto asked, looking them over. Sophie giggled. Before Peter could reply, Nop appeared. ¡°Congratulations on finishing your first competition! The current time is 5:12PM, meaning it took you eight hours and twelve minutes to make the climb. That¡¯s faster than three other teams, but seven teams still have to finish.¡± ¡°Seven?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°There was only one team behind us.¡± ¡°Six will compete tomorrow,¡± Nop said in an off-hand manner, then became formal again. ¡°From here you will be sent to your individual rooms. Please remove all wet clothing and put them in the provided basket for cleaning. You have been given a garment to put on in their place. Dinner, the same soup from lunch, will be at six. Contest results will be shown tomorrow at 7PM; you will be allowed to leave your group area at 5PM. Any questions?¡± They all replied in the negative, and were once again covered in the blue glow. 8 - Intis Watcher Inti¡¯s Watcher, Group Area 27 Razan woke up at noon on Saturday. His muscles ached, and he felt thirsty. He rolled to his feet, sighed, and spent a few minutes stretching. It took him a while to notice his room wasn¡¯t cold. It was cool, but not uncomfortably so. He was perfectly warm in just the fuzzy dress thing the rostari had given him. Finishing his stretches, he went into the main room for lunch. Sophie and Marie were eating soup, Peter was peeling an orange. All three were wearing the fuzzy dress things. Razan noticed his and Sophie¡¯s were red-orange, while the other two were blue-green. He wondered if there was a reason for this, and decided probably not. ¡°So you are alive, that¡¯s good,¡± Marie said, watching him. ¡°Likewise,¡± he said, getting his soup and taking it to the table. ¡°I hope not all the contests are so¡­¡± He paused, searching for the right word. ¡°Cold?¡± Sophie guessed. ¡°Exhausting?¡± Peter tried. Razan shook his head. ¡°Long.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Marie said. ¡°I think five hours should be long enough for a competition.¡± ¡°It was fun, though,¡± Sophie said. ¡°I don¡¯t necessarily want to do it again, but it was fun. I got some interesting rocks.¡± ¡°Rocks?¡± Razan asked. She nodded happily. He decided she was a very strange person. Marie got to her feet, pushing her bowl away. ¡°I¡¯m going to rest until five. Let me know if something exciting happens.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Peter said, watching. ¡°Need help getting-¡± ¡°I ain¡¯t that old, cowboy,¡± she snapped, limping to her door. ¡°Eat your orange.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± he said. Razan glanced at him, then waited for Marie¡¯s door to close. ¡°I was worried about her yesterday,¡± he admitted. ¡°But she seems quite resilient.¡± ¡°Her reputation makes her sound immortal,¡± Peter said. ¡°I hope she doesn¡¯t die,¡± Sophie said, picking up Marie¡¯s bowl to take to the sink. ¡°I like her.¡± Razan smiled faintly. ¡°As do I.¡± ¡°Well she did threaten to cut my balls off,¡± Peter muttered, softly enough only Razan could hear. He cleared his throat, raising his voice again. ¡°She¡¯s not half bad for a pirate.¡± Sophie came back. ¡°When you¡¯re done eating, would you two mind helping me test how soundproof the walls are?¡± ¡°Soundproof?¡± Razan repeated. ¡°Yes. I need to know how well sound travels in this place.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Peter asked. She smiled sweetly. ¡°Definitely not so I know how much noise I can make while sneaking into your bedroom at night to steal all your things.¡± He shared a look with Razan. ¡°Please?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°You don¡¯t have anything better to do for the next four hours, and I¡¯ll figure it out one way or another. At least this way you¡¯ll know, too.¡± Peter got to his feet, picking up his orange peels. ¡°Why do I get the sense that the women on this team are twenty times as dangerous as the men? Is that odd?¡± he asked Razan. ¡°Women are always more dangerous,¡± Razan said, finishing his soup. ¡°They¡¯re just clever about hiding it.¡± He took the bowl to the sink. ¡°How would you like to test this?¡± Sophie beamed.
Marie steeled herself as the door opened. She walked into the common area with the confidence of a woman who knew she could break bones with a single punch. The rest of her team followed; Miyamoto was the most nervous. There were about fifty people in the area, either watching pictures at the far end or eating at the near end. The clothes and skin tones seemed to represent every nation on Earth. She wondered how many languages were spoken here. Not wanting to stand still, Marie spotted an empty table and walked towards it. Her team followed. ¡°Marie!¡± someone called, the voice making her stop dead. ¡°Marie LeFleur!¡± She turned, and found a stocky man with a thick mustache jogging towards them. ¡°Louis,¡± she said, looking him over. A part of her was surprised her voice hadn¡¯t cracked. She inhaled sharply, burying emotions behind a smile. ¡°I thought you¡¯d gone to hell thirty years ago.¡± ¡°That¡¯s where they tried to send me,¡± he laughed. ¡°Got taken here instead.¡± He took his hat off with a flourish, flashing Sophie a smile. ¡°And it¡¯s a pleasure to meet your group, as well. Louis Goldtooth, at your service.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t give him your name, he gave you a fake one,¡± Marie told Sophie, desperate to seem calm. Louis put his hat back on. ¡°Aye, but the only soul alive who would recognize my real name is you, my dear Marie.¡± Sophie giggled, curtsying. ¡°A pleasure to meet you, sir.¡± Peter held out his hand for a handshake. ¡°Peter.¡± Miyamoto bowed, saying nothing. ¡°Come,¡± Louis said, after shaking Peter¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯ll be your guide. Marie, my team¡¯s leader will want to meet you.¡± He strolled away. Miyamoto moved closer to Marie. ¡°Should we trust him?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted, remembering- She shook the memories from her head. ¡°He won¡¯t sabotage us, he¡¯ll be a good source of information, but there¡¯s a strong chance he might want to kill me.¡± He nodded, and they followed Louis to a table where there sat a blue-eyed woman half again as tall as he was. Marie judged her to be five years younger than herself. Louis beamed. ¡°Marie, Peter, you other two, this is the beautiful Ebba, my team¡¯s fearless warrior, my indestructible Swedish flower, my-¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m perfect, thank you,¡± Ebba said, rolling her eyes. Marie smiled wryly at Ebba. ¡°I see he¡¯s still a simpering idiot. Marie LeFleur.¡± Ebba paused. ¡°The woman who broke his-¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Another pause, then she kicked a chair out from under the table. ¡°Sit. We will be friends.¡± Marie grinned, sliding into the chair. Sophie sat next to her, greeting the Swedish woman. Louis put himself between Marie and Ebba, while Peter took the remaining chair. Miyamoto went to find another one. ¡°Broke his¡­ heart?¡± Peter tried. Marie smirked, leaning back. ¡°Among other things.¡± Louis smiled a smile she had known well. ¡°Heart, tooth, razor, favorite mug-¡± ¡°I set fire to the mug before stomping it to pieces,¡± Marie corrected. He continued, ¡°-table, spoon-¡± ¡°Spoon?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°How did you do that?¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Digging out of prison,¡± Marie said, glad the girl hadn''t asked about the table. ¡°-skull, and I still maintain you broke my toe,¡± Louis finished. Marie smiled, watching Miyamoto drag over a chair. Louis had left something out of his list. Ebba was looking her over critically, making Marie feel self-conscious for the first time in years. Louis looked Miyamoto over. ¡°Samurai?¡± he guessed. Miyamoto bowed in reply. ¡°There¡¯s three or four of your ilk here; they haunt the sparring room.¡± He pointed off to a door with a drawing of two swords on it. ¡°Go meet them if you don¡¯t care for my company.¡± Miyamoto bowed again, and turned away. ¡°Three or four?¡± Peter asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you know?¡± ¡°One¡¯s a woman,¡± Louis said. ¡°They call her something else, but I can¡¯t see the difference. She¡¯s Japanese, self-righteous, carries a thin sword, same as the rest of them.¡± ¡°Are they all poets?¡± Sophie asked. Louis grimaced. ¡°Yes.¡± Marie cleared her throat. ¡°I¡¯d love to gossip and catch up, but I do have a few pressing questions. You offered to be our guide. So what¡¯s this place like? How dangerous are the people?¡± ¡°We live for contests,¡± Ebba told her. ¡°No one is forced to stay; some have left, so everyone who remains is satisfied. We get food, clothing and shelter in exchange for having adventures every weekend. It¡¯s no secret we¡¯re being watched; people who amuse the rostari get paid more. But it is fair. Anyone can be amusing.¡± ¡°Do they have a preference for any race?¡± Marie asked. Louis shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re trained dogs to them. They don¡¯t know or care about Earth politics. Tall, short, dark, light, skinny, fat; they just throw us all together and tell us to dance.¡± ¡°They like people to be unique, though,¡± Ebba said. ¡°The easier you are to tell apart from others, the more popular you automatically become. Find a good style and stay with it.¡± ¡°Style? Is there a tailor here?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°There is, but not exactly,¡± Ebba told her. ¡°In the room where we request clothes there¡¯s a place to draw what you want. You can also buy fabric and a sewing kit.¡± ¡°Are there people to avoid?¡± Peter asked. ¡°Anyone who glares at you,¡± Ebba shrugged. Louis elaborated. ¡°We¡¯re very expensive trained dogs. If you¡¯re hurt or killed, that¡¯s someone¡¯s investment lost. Don¡¯t test anyone, but you don¡¯t have to watch your back.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to know,¡± Marie said, watching a thin, dark-skinned girl walk towards them. Louis noticed her, and smiled brightly. ¡°Ah, here comes the lovely Rani! She¡¯s probably happy to not be the youngest person here any more.¡± Rani bobbed, almost bouncing up to the table. ¡°Hello. I¡¯m Rani.¡± Sophie beamed. ¡°Nice to meet you, I¡¯m Sophie.¡± Marie and Peter introduced themselves. After a polite hello, the girl looked back at Sophie. ¡°Are you the one who climbed for your team?¡± she asked, motioning towards the pictures on the far wall. ¡°I did most of the climbing, yes,¡± Sophie said happily. Rani bounced slightly, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m my team¡¯s climber. I died falling out of a tree.¡± ¡°I died falling out of a window,¡± Sophie giggled. ¡°There¡¯s a climbing room here,¡± Rani said. ¡°I want to see if you¡¯re faster than me. No one else is.¡± ¡°Certainly,¡± Sophie said, jumping to her feet. The girls linked arms and bounced off. Marie watched them go, eyebrows raised. ¡°I almost want to see that race.¡± ¡°Rani lives in that room,¡± Ebba said, shaking her head. ¡°She could climb blindfolded and win.¡± ¡°She could win any race; that girl moves like lightning,¡± Louis said. He pointed to three deep parallel scars above his wrist. ¡°Two tournaments ago she gave me these before I even saw she was there. If she¡¯d hit any harder my hand would be gone.¡± Marie raised her eyebrows even further, impressed. And then her eyes went to another, older scar. It curved up his arm, under his sleeve, and she knew it ended inside his elbow. In a flash she remembered their laughter as they tried figuring out a way of explaining why they¡¯d been fighting with knives. Again. The unamused surgeon who stitched the wound hadn¡¯t believed Louis¡¯ tale of a blood sacrifice for a mosquito god, even when Marie used the one phrase she knew in Nahuatl. A phrase Louis had taught her as they hid outside an orchard in Venezuela. A place they¡¯d gone to after escaping- ¡°She¡¯ll be good company for Sophie,¡± Ebba said, pulling Marie back to the present. Peter frowned, worried. ¡°Is it common for people to say how they almost died? And to skip the ¡®almost¡¯ part?¡± Marie glanced at him, noticing he''d switched from English to Spanish as soon as Sophie was out of earshot. ¡°Yes to both,¡± Louis told him. ¡°It says a lot about a person, learning how they died. Or, almost died.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t want to say, lie,¡± Ebba said. ¡°Refusing to give any explanation will only make rumors spread.¡± Marie motioned to Louis. ¡°Your ship was sunk by the French. My ship was sunk by the Spanish.¡± She looked at Ebba. ¡°You?¡± ¡°Burned as a witch.¡± Ebba smiled at Peter. ¡°And how did you die?¡± He glanced at Marie, then looked Ebba in the eye. ¡°Washed away in a flood."
Sophie touched the wall, staring up in amazement. The climbing room was covered in creases and bumps, with wooden bars and shelves sticking out at odd angles. Spongy foam made up the floor; hard to walk on but it would help if she fell. ¡°Isn¡¯t it wonderful?¡± Rani asked, beaming. ¡°This is the most beautiful room I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± Sophie said, putting her foot on a small ledge. ¡°Ready to race?¡± ¡°Absolutely.¡± Rani bounced, pointing to a wooden swing hanging from the exact middle of the ceiling. ¡°First one there wins. Threetwoonego.¡± She jumped up, catching a crease and easily pulling herself to the next handhold. Sophie laughed, pushing herself off the floor. She tried to ignore Rani, focusing on the wall above her. At first it was easy, easier than most walls she¡¯d climbed. About halfway up, though, the number of handholds dropped. Climbing required her to swing from one to the next, relying on the toe of her boot to keep her safe. Sophie thought she was doing well until she reached the ceiling. Rani had removed her sandals and was using her toes to grip whatever handhold she found. Sophie watched her hang from the ceiling, moving as easily as if she were walking along a street. Gritting her teeth, Sophie fit her boot into a crevice and grabbed a bar. Ignoring the possibly-lethal drop below her, she reached out for a handhold. Rani got to the swing and dropped lightly to it, smiling. Sophie frowned, moving her foot to the next crevice. A part of her wanted to go back down. Hanging off the ceiling like this was incredibly dangerous and the opposite of ladylike. She paused at that thought. Her mother would go into hysterics if she saw her now. Sophie knew she¡¯d be yelled at for doing something dangerous, for climbing at all, for not wearing a skirt, and would be ordered to get down for a beating and a lecture. The knowledge that her mother would not approve gave Sophie the strength and courage to keep going. Her hands grew sweaty, but she wiped them on her blouse and kept going. Finally, muscles burning, she reached the swing. She grabbed the rope and dropped down, nearly collapsing onto the plank next to Rani. ¡°That was beautiful!¡± Rani said, giving her a quick hug. ¡°I thought you¡¯d get stuck at the ceiling. Most people do.¡± ¡°Never,¡± Sophie said, panting. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you managed it with shoes on,¡± Rani continued. ¡°I hate climbing without using my toes. It¡¯s much safer that way.¡± ¡°If I tried climbing without shoes my mother¡¯s soul would appear in front of me and demand I put some on,¡± Sophie said. Rani laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Your mother will never learn of anything you do here.¡± ¡°I hope not,¡± Sophie giggled. ¡°I haven¡¯t even been here a week and she¡¯d already die if she found out.¡± ¡°All you did was climb a mountain, what¡¯s so bad about that?¡± Sophie leaned back, making the swing move. ¡°You clearly aren¡¯t an English Lady.¡± Rani held her hand next to Sophie¡¯s to compare the color. ¡°Clearly.¡±
Peter watched the pictures on the wall. They moved. No one had explained, but obviously these moving pictures were what the hawks had seen. Someone with a strange accent was excitedly explaining where each of the teams had slowed down, and any obstacles they¡¯d faced. He presumed every human on the ship was here, watching. The groups seemed to have usual places, since everyone knew where to look when a new team was shown. Suddenly Peter saw himself on the wall. ¡°In seventh place comes our newest team, the Drifters!¡± the announcer called. ¡°If this climb showed anything, it¡¯s that they¡¯re a lot more cohesive than most new teams. Marie is the leader, but she¡¯s never been on a mountain before! It¡¯s a miracle they didn¡¯t freeze to death.¡± The picture showed Marie collapsing near the final cliff. ¡°We were prepared to give them an encouraging speech about how failure is acceptable, but they split up. Razan and Marie stayed behind, sending the youngest two members, Sophie and Peter, to the finish line.¡± The picture switched to show Miyamoto and Marie at the bottom of the cliff, then it moved up and focused on Sophie and Peter having a snowball fight. ¡°They gave us the most energetic finish out of any team! If we ever have a snow battle, I¡¯m putting my money on this group.¡± Marie, standing next to Peter, raised her eyebrows at him. Peter coughed. ¡°She started it,¡± he muttered. ¡°So that¡¯s how you became covered in snow,¡± Miyamoto said. Sophie crossed her arms. ¡°It got us attention; that¡¯s good, right?¡± On the wall, the picture switched to a different team. Peter recognized two of the people as Louis and Ebba. ¡°In sixth place we have Windward! They usually do well in cold conditions, and bad in climbing competitions. That leaves them in the middle, and they landed in the middle here!¡± The picture showed the team pulling their masks and goggles on at the starting point. ¡°As expected, Ebba made sure her team was ready for freezing cold weather, so they managed the walking part expertly.¡± It switched to show all four team members climbing the first cliff at once. ¡°Also as expected, they stalled at the cliffs. Other than Asani, their strategy for climbing still seems to be hope and prayers.¡± The picture changed to show the team eating lunch. ¡°Well, at least we know no one will hold this against them in the next tournament. No team can be good at everything, after all.¡± The picture changed, showing two people pulling a sled with their other two teammates on it. This strategy didn¡¯t seem to have helped much. The announcer doubted anyone would copy them next tournament. The next two teams apparently had been expected to do well, and had done nothing unusual. The second-place team, called the Masks, got a grumbling murmur from the crowd. The announcer didn''t linger on them, and Peter couldn''t see them in the crowd. The winning team, named the Diamonds, got a huge cheer when they were announced. Near the wall, four people stood and bowed as the announcer called them all sorts of wonderful things. Louis strolled up to Marie as the wall faded to black, Ebba and two others following. ¡°Come. Let me introduce you to some people.¡± 9 - Intis Watcher Inti¡¯s Watcher, Common Area Sophie curtseyed to Nali, a Korean woman wearing a gorgeous green and gold silk dress. Nali bowed back, looking over Sophie¡¯s outfit. Sophie hadn¡¯t felt self-conscious about wearing trousers until this moment. A good portion of the women in the room weren¡¯t wearing skirts, and it didn¡¯t bother anyone, but seeing Nali¡¯s dress made Sophie want to melt into the background. Ebba smirked. ¡°It¡¯s not the dress,¡± she told Sophie. ¡°After years of feeling underdressed around Nali every single day, I¡¯ve decided there¡¯s something in her soul that makes everyone feel inferior. It¡¯s very helpful for demoralizing other teams.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not on purpose,¡± Nali said, her voice like honey. ¡°I just like to look my best.¡± ¡°I feel demoralized already,¡± Marie said, impressed. Nali bowed slightly to Marie. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Louis laughed, then motioned to the fourth member of their team, a tall black man in a tunic. ¡°And this is Asani.¡± ¡°Greetings,¡± Asani said, shaking everyone¡¯s hand. Miyamoto almost acted like he¡¯d never experienced a handshake before. Nali laughed at that. Louis beamed at Sophie. ¡°Now may I learn your name?¡± ¡°Sophie,¡± she said, glancing at Marie. ¡°Ah, thank you. And you?¡± he asked, turning to Miyamoto. He bowed slightly. ¡°Miyamoto Razan.¡± ¡°Which one of those is your given name?¡± Ebba asked. ¡°The rostari don¡¯t use family names, so no one here does, either.¡± There was a pause before he answered. ¡°Razan.¡± Nali looked almost pleased at his discomfort. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Razan, after a few months it won¡¯t bother you.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, glaring. Louis coughed politely. ¡°Now that you¡¯ve met the most important group here, let¡¯s introduce you to¡­¡± He looked around the room, frowned, then smiled. ¡°You should meet Rani¡¯s group, the Stars. They didn¡¯t compete this week, so you won¡¯t have seen them on the wall.¡± ¡°They didn¡¯t?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°They¡¯re all from hot climates,¡± Ebba said, starting to walk. ¡°Not competing was a good choice.¡± Sophie nodded, remembering the cold. She paused, seeing the group that had come in second. ¡°Are they the Masks?¡± ¡°Leave them alone,¡± Asani said, frowning. ¡°They¡¯re the most popular group with the rostari. If they decide they don¡¯t like you, you¡¯ll suffer for it.¡± ¡°They never take their masks off, and no one knows their names,¡± Nali whispered. ¡°It¡¯s very mysterious.¡± Sophie looked them over. Their team colors were black and grey, which only added to the mystery in this room full of color. The person facing away was wearing a beekeeper¡¯s outfit. Next to them was a person wearing a full diving suit. Talking to the beekeeper was someone in a Venetian carnival outfit, complete with bird mask. Lastly, there was a person in a full suit of medieval armor. ¡°How long have they been here?¡± Peter asked, watching the person in full armor. ¡°About five years,¡± Asani answered. ¡°No one knows where the armor came from. It helps with the whole ¡®no one knows anything about us¡¯ gimmick.¡± ¡°I can imagine,¡± Marie said. As they spoke, a group in sky blue and bright orange outfits walked up. The leader, a short man wearing a striped robe, bowed while twirling his hand. A Japanese woman also bowed while the other two simply waved. ¡°Greetings,¡± the leader said happily. ¡°Welcome to the ship, and congratulations on doing well in your first contest. I am Fael, these are my Seabirds.¡± Marie returned the bow. ¡°I am Marie. Thank you for the welcome.¡± Sophie waved. Louis nodded in greeting, then glanced at Marie. ¡°That name¡¯s no joke. Anything involving water they win.¡± ¡°Thank you for the compliment,¡± Fael said, then motioned to his teammates. ¡°This is Juan, Keiko, Grace.¡± Marie introduced Sophie, Peter and Razan. Razan grimaced when she used that name, but bowed politely. Fael asked Marie how the team was getting along while Peter asked Juan where he was from. Keiko was properly introducing herself to Razan, so Sophie smiled at Grace. ¡°How long have you been here?¡± she asked. Grace grinned. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re from Birmingham. Can¡¯t hide that accent. Been here four years.¡± Sophie laughed. ¡°It¡¯s not that distinct, is it?¡± ¡°A bit. I was born there, so I¡¯d recognize the accent a mile away,¡± Grace shrugged. ¡°Yours isn¡¯t one I recognize, though,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Where did you grow up?¡± ¡°An island we call Tasmania. I doubt you¡¯ve heard the name.¡± Sophie frowned, trying to remember. ¡°Geography was never my strong suit. You¡¯re right, I don¡¯t know it. How did you die?¡± Grace smirked. ¡°Stealing jewelry from a posh bitch.¡± Sophie beamed. ¡°Me too!¡±
The Stars were a younger group of contestants in dark blue and rich purple outfits. Marie admitted that everyone under the age of forty looked like children to her, but these people were all in their mid-twenties at most. Louis introduced Marie''s group first, then turned to the others. "This is Kadek, the fearless; Paola, the master of stealth; Omar, the strategist; and you''ve already met the lovely Rani." Rani crossed her arms. "That''s all I get? Lovely?" "Fine," Louis said, bowing. "The lovely and utterly terrifying Rani." "Terrifying?" Sophie and Peter asked at the same time. Rani smiled sweetly. "Only if you underestimate me. If you don''t, I''m competent."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "That''s hardly something to call a young lady, though," Louis said. Paola, a shorter black girl with about a thousand micro braids, grinned then turned to Marie. "I was impressed none of you froze to death on the mountain. I would have. You got a hard challenge for your first time out." "Thank you," Marie said, tuning out Louis and Rani''s debate about what she ought to be called. "If we''d been up there any longer I may have died." "The people in charge try to not repeat challenges often, but the same things do come up every few years," Omar, a tan young man in loose trousers and tunic, explained. "For nearly every challenge it''s possible to find some strategy or ally to help succeed." "Ally?" Razan asked. "Yes, ally," Omar said. "This challenge was a race, it was you against the elements. But there are many challenges where we fight among ourselves. In those, there are several types of alliances to be made." "They are discouraged, though, usually," Paola added. "If we''re told to go out and fight, they don''t want us to all shake hands and debate until someone forfeits." "But agreeing to fight a certain group last, or to fight until first blood rather than to exhaustion, is acceptable," Omar explained. "Ah, politics," Razan said, nodding to himself. Omar smiled briefly. "Yes. Politics." "I hate politics," Marie muttered. She looked at Paola. "But I do love your hair. Was it done here?" The girl beamed. "Yes, there''s a machine that does it. I can show you how it works, it¡¯s complicated but once you sit down it''s amazingly fast." She ran her fingers through elbow-length hair. "After the extensions finished braiding, it only took three hours to put them all in." Marie was impressed. "Yes, you''ll have to show me how the machine works." Louis heard that and turned towards them. "Not yet, though," he said. "Tonight I need my old friend to myself." "Oh, you knew each other?" Paola asked. Marie raised her eyebrows at Louis. "We were friends?" "Aye, we knew each other," Louis said, faltering for the briefest moment before his charm returned. "If you combine all the words for what we were, then average it out, I think we can say ''friend''." "I''ll accept that," Marie decided. She smiled at Paola. "For now I''ll leave my team with yours, and go ''talk'' with my ''friend''." The girl laughed as they turned away.
That night, after much laughter and food and new friends, Sophie went to her room and relaxed. The clock in their kitchen said it was nearly midnight, and she was tired. "Nop?" she called. A bird hopped out of the wall. "Yes?" "Do you sleep?" There was a pause. "Yes, Nop is asleep at this moment. I am Bins, in charge of night hours." "Good to know," Sophie yawned. "Bins, could you do me a favor and wake me at one in the morning, and again at seven?" "Of course," the metal bird said. "Although Nop returns at seven, so I''ll have her wake you." "Thank you," she said, closing her eyes. An instant seemed to pass. "Sophie, wake up please," Bins called. "Hmm?" she asked. "It''s one in the morning," Bins said. She hopped onto Sophie''s arm and jumped up and down. "Wake up." "Oh, thank you," she said groggily, getting to her feet. "You''re welcome," the bird said. She hopped again, and retreated into the wall. Sophie yawned. Before anything else, she had to wake up properly. She left her room, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she was drinking, Marie came in from the common area. They looked at each other for a few seconds in surprise, then Sophie grinned. "Young lady, what do you think you''re doing, staying out so late?" Sophie asked, her voice as commanding and haughty as she could make it. Marie smiled appreciatively, then copied the voice. "Good Lord, child, don''t you know what time it is? Why are you still fully dressed?" "You''ve had me worried sick. You might be kidnapped and sold to shovel coal on a pirate ship, staying out till this hour," Sophie said, setting the glass in the sink. "Shovel coal on a ship?" Marie echoed, going to her door. Sophie shrugged. "That''s what my mother thought would happen." "Does your mother know how ships work?" "Not in the slightest. Good-night." "Good-night." Marie went into her room, and Sophie went back to hers. She pushed her desk into place and climbed on. The screws holding the grate in the ceiling weren''t tight; all she had to do was twist them with a thumb to make them fall out. She caught them and the grate, lowering everything quietly to the desk. The rope she''d put in the vent dropped out, hanging perfectly in place. Smiling at her ingenuity, Sophie grabbed the rope and climbed in. It didn''t take long for her to wiggle to the branching tunnel and the vent that showed what was outside her wall. Nothing had changed. There was a dimly-lit corridor heading off¡­ Sophie decided to call it west. North of her was another wall, with strange letters on it in various places. Pressing her face to the grate, she noticed pistons on either side of the doors, along with something on the ceiling that might bend the door when it got too high. Somehow. To the east was another wall, and she now knew behind it was a shop that sold various types of bread. Seeing nothing move, Sophie gripped the screws to the grate and turned them. They moved surprisingly easily, letting her completely unscrew the grate in under a minute. She pulled it into the vent with her, dropped the rope out, and climbed down into the corridor. Sophie snapped her fingers and heard a faint echo. She looked around for birds or other¡­ What had Nop called them? Syomis? Watching things, whatever the case. She didn''t see any. Gaining confidence, Sophie walked west to the end of the corridor and carefully looked out. Another corridor ran perpendicular to the one she was in. It stretched off north into the darkness, but to the south there was an end. Pipes and tubes covered the walls and ceilings; some warm, some cold, and some vibrating. They were all marked with strange letters. Most importantly, though, nothing moved. Dust covered the floor, with wheel tracks in it, but no footprints. Not even bird prints. Sophie decided to not go far tonight. She went back to her wall and looked it over. The big "maintenance" door had what looked like a list of details on it. She imagined the strange letters told anyone curious that this room was occupied by a woman named Sophie who was to be given red-orange things. Or something. On the wall next to the door was a panel with two buttons and a dial. The dial was set to the middle. Sophie pushed the left button. Quickly and silently, the door went up. It reached the ceiling and curved to move along it. When it was all the way up, it stopped. Sophie pushed the right button, suspecting it would make the door go back down. It did, just as silently as before. Grinning, she turned the dial all the way to the left and pushed the button to open the door. The door went up, and after three seconds it automatically closed. Sophie turned the dial all the way to the right and pushed the button. The door went up. After ten minutes, Sophie got bored and pushed the close button. She looked at her rope hanging from the open vent. If she could figure out a way to push the "open" button from inside her room, she wouldn''t need the rope any more. A yawn forced its way out of her. She''d figure that out another day. Opening the door again, she got her chair and pushed it under the vent. Climbing up, she shoved the rope back until it would be within reach of the vent in her room. Then she screwed the grate back on, and put the chair back in its place. Worried the door might stay open forever, she pushed the close button and slid into her room. Sophie put the grate back on, put the desk in its place, collapsed on her bed, and was almost instantly asleep.
Marie stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Louis Goldtooth, of all people¡­ His real name was James Fleming; a secret she''d pried out of him one night in a rowboat on their way to Trinidad. Of everyone she¡¯d known who had died at sea, he was probably the best person for her to meet again. He¡¯d never actively tried to kill her, and she¡¯d returned the favor. Marie could name a dozen people she hoped were well and truly gone forever, but she¡¯d always wished to meet Louis again. When she heard of his death she¡¯d prayed for the chance to talk to him one more time. And here he was. Now Marie wished he¡¯d found her, told her he was all right. But she¡¯d been on a ship, and he probably had no way of knowing when she¡¯d be at any given port. Marie rolled onto her side, wondering how much she should interact with him. In a way, she was lucky to have someone she knew here. Her team had a guide to rely on, and Louis seemed to want to help. They¡¯d talked for hours, and he seemed happy she was here. Cautious, but happy. Still, a deep-rooted part of Marie¡¯s soul would never let her trust anyone completely. Especially not someone with motive for revenge. Long, long ago, she¡¯d trusted Louis more than anyone else. In the end it had been her failing that made them part ways, and he hadn¡¯t lived long enough for them to reconcile. He¡¯d died still thinking she hated him. Obviously things had changed since then. Time had healed old wounds. But had they healed enough? Marie rolled to her other side. She would trust him. But she¡¯d ask her team to verify everything he said. 10 - Intis Watcher "This week, we''re going to play Underwater Treasure Hunt!" Nop announced. "Some love it, some hate it, and some ignore safety regulations and nearly drown! That''s what makes it so exciting! This time, only three out of each group are required to join. If someone really doesn''t know how to swim, but the rest of your group wants in, that''s fine! All that matters is the number of shells you collect." "Who doesn''t know how to swim?" Razan asked under his breath. "As usual, you will be provided with breathing devices and bags," the raven continued. She turned to the wall and four images of shells appeared. "Blue shells are worth one point. Red shells are worth two points. Purple shells are worth three points. And gold shells are worth five points. We have scattered shells of all colors throughout the area. For this event, we''re allowing fighting and stealing. If a shell isn''t on a team''s platform, it''s fair game. Don''t kill anyone! And as always, let us know by tonight if you¡¯re joining or not." Nop grew still. Razan sat back, looking at Marie. She was watching Sophie. "Do you know how to swim, girl?" Sophie shook her head. "Swimming is not a proper ladylike activity." Marie raised her eyebrows at Peter. "I grew up in a desert," he said. "There wasn''t enough water anywhere near me to swim in." "On a ship, if you''re swimming it means something''s gone horribly wrong," Marie said. "I know how to swim. I''m not sure how well I can fight underwater, though." "I can fight effectively," Razan said. "There are a few tricks to it, but it isn''t hard." "Sophie, do you want to join?¡± Marie asked. ¡°It sounds fun,¡± she said. ¡°If it turns out swimming is hard, I can always just stay on the platform thing they mentioned.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°Peter, want to join?¡± He thought it over. ¡°If there¡¯s an area here where I can learn to swim before being dumped into the ocean, sure,¡± he said slowly. ¡°If not, I¡¯m not too keen on the idea.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Marie said. ¡°Nop, we will join.¡± The bird hopped. ¡°Thank you. Your platform shall be Platform¡­ 5. Please go to the tailor room attached to the common area and acquire proper swimming clothes as soon as possible.¡± ¡°We will,¡± Marie said. She sat forwards. ¡°Razan, for this I want you to stay with Sophie. Don¡¯t bother with shells, just protect her. Sophie, focus all your energy on finding shells. Peter, if you come, you¡¯re with me. We¡¯ll collect shells, and if we see anyone alone we¡¯ll take theirs. Understood?¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Razan said, nodding. Sophie echoed the word. Peter frowned. ¡°I understand, but I¡¯m not sure I want to steal. Maybe I should stay with Sophie.¡± ¡°Stealing is allowed, and it¡¯s just a game,¡± Marie said. ¡°Before we debate further: Nop, is there a place here where we can swim?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Nop said. ¡°However, due to its small size, you are required to reserve a time to go there. Would you like to reserve a time?¡± ¡°Multiple times. An hour each morning until Friday, for the entire group.¡± ¡°Done. I will give you the schedule as soon as you have ordered proper clothes.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Marie said, standing. ¡°Peter, let¡¯s talk in my room.¡± Peter slowly got to his feet. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± Sophie beamed at Razan. ¡°My own personal bodyguard, how exciting.¡± ¡°Do you know anything about the ocean?¡± he asked. ¡°It exists,¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°I saw a painting of it once.¡± Razan purposefully turned towards the bird. "Do you always switch the days when you announce each week''s competition?" "No, it''s usually announced on Sunday," Nop said. "Last week it was announced on Tuesday so our newest contestants could join." "That''s nice of you," Sophie told her. She turned to Razan again. "Oh! There are fish in the ocean. I know that, too!" He sighed.
Marie sat on her bed, motioning for Peter to take the chair. ¡°Have you ever stolen anything?¡± Peter became very focused on adjusting the chair¡¯s position. ¡°Yes,¡± he said softly. She watched him. ¡°You were desperate.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Were you caught?¡± He fiddled with the edge of his poncho. ¡°Seen, not caught.¡± ¡°While you were in the army?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She didn¡¯t ask what country he¡¯d been in when he¡¯d stolen. ¡°I never tried to hide that I was stealing. I announced it to the world and dared them to do anything about it. You didn¡¯t want to be seen. For me, being seen was the point. But you were trained as a soldier, were you not?¡± He finally looked her in the eye. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°So you know how to follow orders, even difficult ones.¡± ¡°...Yes.¡± He fiddled with his poncho again. ¡°All I¡¯d like you to do is say hello, aim a weapon at their heart, and ask they hand over their shells,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll do the rest. This isn¡¯t like stealing food or clothes. It isn¡¯t them or us. If someone loses all their shells and comes in last, they still gain enough credits just by entering to eat for a week. No one will die or be at risk of dying because of our actions. Besides, we are not going to be the best fighters out there. If someone is alone, they¡¯re either incredibly stupid or incredibly competent. In one case they deserve to be stolen from, in the other it¡¯ll be a fair fight.¡± ¡°Still, I¡¯d prefer to be with Sophie,¡± he said in Spanish. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to be the one not stealing.¡± Marie sat back, switching to that language well. ¡°No, you¡¯d prefer to be with the pretty blonde who keeps flirting with you.¡± His cheeks colored as he stuttered out a denial. She laughed softly. ¡°Peter, Sophie is brilliant at seeing things. When she walks into a new room, she looks up. She notices entrances and exits where I see a wall. In this game, she will find every shell there is to find, and a dozen more. But, like most people who are brilliant, she¡¯s also an idiot. As soon as we get into the water, she¡¯s going to be so excited about all the colorful shells that she¡¯ll forget people want to take them from her. If she sees someone, she¡¯ll probably wave and try to start a conversation. Sophie needs someone serious, who thinks she¡¯s a bit annoying, to stay vigilant and protect her. The more shells she finds, the bigger a target she becomes, the better the fighters who will try to attack her. I trust Razan to be able to protect her. I wouldn¡¯t trust you.¡± Slowly, he nodded. ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°For the last contest you were Peter,¡± she said, going back to French. ¡°For this one, I¡¯d like you to be a soldier, following your commander. Last time, I was Marie. This time, I will be Captain LeFleur. Is that acceptable?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Peter sat up, giving her a military salute with emotionless eyes. ¡°Yes, captain. Sergeant Peter Lopez, at your command.¡±
Sophie looked through all the options for swimwear, her eyes wide. Her. Mother. Would. Kill. Her. "Hi Sophie!" Sophie squeaked, spinning around to hide the screen. Rani giggled, bouncing. "I''m not that scary, am I?" Sophie laughed, relaxing. "No, sorry, I just¡­ was looking at swimming clothes." Rani squinted thoughtfully, then knowingly patted her on the shoulder. "Don''t worry. Your mother will never know." "I know, but¡­" She pointed to the item on the screen that appeared to be two triangles and a few ribbons. "How can anyone wear that in public?" "It''s simple. Once you''re in the water, looking for shells, fighting enemies, you don''t even think about what you''re wearing," Rani told her. "And when fighting men, it''s an advantage to have them distracted by your clothing''s lack of yardage." Sophie laughed at that. "I see you''ve thought this over thoroughly." "Always." Rani grinned, then looked at the screen. "I''m getting new clothes for this contest too. Why don''t we pick something out together? If you wear the same thing as me, then at least you''ll know you aren''t alone with your scandalous outfit." Sophie hugged her. "You''re the best. Also you probably know what fabric to use." "Naturally." They spent the next twenty minutes happily discussing clothes. Razan left after five, Marie on his heels. Peter finished choosing his outfit after ten minutes, tried to see what Sophie was doing, and was chased off by Rani. Finally they paid for their outfits and wandered to the climbing room. "Rani, have you ever been outside the areas we''re allowed to be in?" Sophie asked carefully, following her friend up the wall. "Outside?" Rani repeated. "What do you mean?" "I mean¡­ Places we aren''t supposed to go." "I don''t think there''s any way to get places we aren''t supposed to go," Rani said. "This ship has been here over fifty years at least. People say every five years there''s an upgrade in security and they change any wall or floor panel that could be breaking. If there was a way out of the allowed areas, they''ve gotten rid of it by now." "I see," Sophie said slowly. "When is the next upgrade?" "If they keep to the schedule, the end of this year." Rani looked at her as she moved to the ceiling. "What did you find?" Sophie gave her an innocent smile. "Nothing. I was just curious." Rani laughed. "Well, speaking of ''just curious'', are you going to claim Peter or is he of no interest to you?" Sophie nearly fell off the ceiling. "What?" "Sorry, should have waited until you were on the swing to ask that," Rani said. "I''ll wait for a reply." "You''re so kind," Sophie said, lunging for the swing and dropping onto it. She settled herself, then looked at Rani. "I am now ready for any question." A dangerous glimmer sparked in Rani''s eyes. "Any question? Very well: do you plan on spending a night in his bed?" Sophie felt her face catch fire. "I''ll take that as a yes. Will you be actively trying to get him to kiss you, or will you let him set the pace?" Sophie squeaked. "How experienced are you? Do you have everything figured out, or would you like some suggestions?" "I was not ready for any question," Sophie blurted out. Rani laughed. "Poor little Sophie, am I being mean?" "Yes," she answered, turning away. "Fine, I''ll stop with the fun questions," Rani said, kicking her feet to make the swing move. "He likes you. Or at the very least he doesn¡¯t like it when you flirt with other men." "What should I do?" Sophie asked softly. "If we were in England I''d know exactly what to do. And if I didn''t, there are books by the dozen willing to explain. Here¡­ I know how to flirt with him but I don''t know¡­ what to do." "Well, you''re a thief, right?" Rani countered. "Steal things."
Marie looked over the rectangle filled with water, waiting for her team to change into proper swimming clothes. She was in a tight-fitting shirt made of fabric that claimed to not hold water. The sleeves went to her wrists, and somehow made her feel like she could move easier. Her shorts, looser things that were cinched at her hips, did not help movement but were very comfortable. Razan emerged from the dressing stall first, dressed only in shorts similar to what Marie was wearing, but with colors reversed. He nodded to her, then dove soundlessly into the pool. Marie was mildly impressed with how quickly he moved through the water. Peter came out next, wearing a loose shirt and somewhat tighter trousers. Marie realized this was the first time she''d seen the cowboy without a poncho. He hunched under her gaze, clearly not sure what to do with his hands. Razan slid out of the water and jumped effortlessly to his feet. "Peter, you are a man. Take your shirt off." Peter flinched. "I, uhm¡­" He straightened up to his full height, looking down at the samurai. "No." Marie smiled, fully prepared to enjoy this fight. "Marie!" Sophie called from her stall. "Please help?" Marie sighed, turning away from the glaring men. She went into the stall to find Sophie in a very short skirt, holding two ends of what looked like a long scarf. She''d looped the blue-green fabric over her neck, crossing it to cover her breasts, then around her back and across her chest. Her dark blonde hair, usually pinned up, hung in a thick braid down past her bare waist. The girl turned red as Marie''s eyebrows went up. "Rani''s wearing the same thing," she said quickly. "When we''re in the water no one will notice." "They''ll notice," Marie said flatly. "I presume you''d like me to tie those at your back?" Still blushing, Sophie turned around. "Yes, please. In a bow, if you can." "Of course." Marie took the ends and carefully twisted them into place. "A word of warning, though, your back will hurt like hell Friday night." "Why?" "How many days have you spent since reaching puberty not wearing a corset?" Sophie frowned. "A handful. Why?" "Corsets support your back. You''re not only getting rid of that support but will be swimming," Marie explained, tightening the bow. "I speak from experience when I say you''ve got some muscles that aren''t used to having much expected of them." "Oh. I''ll ask Nop if they have something for pain," Sophie decided. "Thank you for the warning. And thank you for tying my bow." Marie smiled, patting the girl on her bare shoulder. "Anything to help a fellow woman render a man useless." Sophie frowned again, about to ask what she meant, but Marie threw the door open and pushed her out. Peter and Razan, in the middle of a struggle Peter was losing, froze and stared at Sophie. She glanced back at Marie, nervous, then beamed at the men. "Ready to swim?" she asked brightly, bouncing over to the pool''s edge. Her braid swayed with the movement. Razan pointed. "See, she''s wearing less clothes than you are." The pointing hadn''t been necessary. Peter was practically drooling as he watched Sophie tap the water with her bare foot. He didn''t reply to Razan, and Marie doubted he''d even heard the man. "You''re going about this the wrong way," Marie told Razan, walking up to them. "You need to demonstrate why a loose shirt is a bad idea." Quick as lightning, Marie grabbed Peter''s collar and a fistful of fabric over the center of his chest. With two solid steps she forced him backwards, and sent him into the water with a shove. "Yes, I see," Razan said loudly as Peter flailed. "It would be impossible for you to use that maneuver with me, as I have no shirt." "Indeed." Sophie scrambled into the water and grabbed Peter''s arm, helping him find his footing in the chest-deep pool. Marie moved to the edge and slid into the water as easily and quietly as if she were stepping down a flight of stairs. She calmly walked to Peter. "If you prove you can fight me in that shirt, you may keep it," she said, her voice cold. He moved away from Sophie, slowly raising his fists into position. Marie shook her head, and then struck. She grabbed the fabric on his upper arm with both hands and swung herself around. Peter stumbled in the water, trying to keep balance as he grabbed her wrist. Marie kicked his knee from the side, forcing him down. He grasped uselessly at her, barely keeping his head above water. She let go of his sleeve, took the back of his collar, and yanked it over his head. Fully panicking, Peter forced himself upright, put his hands around her neck, and fell over on top of her. Marie took a deep breath of air as he forced her underwater, bringing her knees up to her chest. She easily tore his hands away, then kicked him hard in the stomach. Her back hit the bottom of the pool as Peter flailed again. She flipped around and swam away, putting herself behind him. As soon as he had his footing she pushed herself off the bottom, hitting his back with both palms. Marie grabbed his shirt as he stumbled again, swinging to put her feet on his hips. She straightened out, pulling the collar of his shirt tight against his throat. Peter fell over backwards, but Marie knew she could hold her breath longer than him. She twisted the shirt, tightening it around his neck. Peter clawed at his collar for a few moments, then went still. Marie let go, pushing herself away and up. He twitched upright, pulling his shirt off as he gasped for air. Marie immediately understood why he''d wanted to keep it. The man wasn''t just thin or lanky, he was one meal off from emaciated. Skin clung to protruding ribs as he breathed heavily, rubbing his throat. She saw a scar on his arm from a bullet and another on his side from a blade. Faded bruises on his chest, back and stomach told her he¡¯d been knocked down and kicked. Still, the point had been made. Peter could not wear a loose shirt. Razan, sitting on the pool''s edge, caught Marie''s eye and motioned to Sophie. The girl was staring at Peter, hands over her mouth. Marie cleared her throat. "As entertaining as that was, we are here to practice swimming. Razan, Peter needs to learn how to move without flailing: teach him. Sophie: stick your head underwater, I need to know how long you can hold your breath." Sophie vanished underwater with a splash as Razan silently dove into the pool. 11 - Intis Watcher Razan sat down at the dining table, spreading paper out in front of him. He checked the ink was good, felt the brush to make sure it would work, and stopped. He had three letters to write. One to his previous employer, one to his landlady, and one to his family. After careful consideration, he decided his older sister would be a better person to write than either of his parents. She would be more¡­ understanding. Razan wrote the letter to his landlady before the others, as it would be the easiest. He used big, easy-to-see strokes. First he thanked her for letting him use a room in her lovely home, then told her he''d gone back to Tottori. He asked she put all his things in a box, which he would collect eventually. He was writing a formal letter to his employer, wondering which spirit to say he''d been kidnapped by, when Marie and Sophie came in. Sophie immediately walked over to see what he was doing. "Is that Japanese? It''s beautiful." "No, it''s Swedish," Razan said flatly. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Are you writing letters home?" Marie asked. "Yes," he answered. "My landlady will be fretting, and my employer will be upset. It would be rude to leave them wondering if I died." "Hell, I have to write my mother," Sophie said, dropping his letter. "Where did you get the paper?" "From the room that handles correspondence," Razan said. "It''s on this side, to the left." "Thank you!" She ran off. He looked at Marie. "Is there no one you need to write?" She shrugged indifferently. "I have no living relatives." Razan wasn''t sure how to reply to that, so he shrugged back and studied his paper. Marie went to her room. Peter came out of his room just as Sophie returned. "Razan and I are writing home," she told him. "Want to join us?" For a moment, Peter looked almost afraid. Then he smiled his usual bright smile and shook his head. "Nah, I can put it off for a while. You have fun, though." He went back into his room without waiting for her reply. Sophie frowned. "Didn''t he just come out of there?" Razan dipped his brush in the ink and continued writing.
Sophie took a deep breath, let it out, and put pen to paper.
Sylvester, You would not believe the adventure I''m having! It started when I stole Countess Danescourt''s jewels. All of them. Even her diamond and ruby set, which she had tucked away in a hatbox. I''m wearing her pearls as I write. Anyways, she came to her room just as I was leaving, and nearly saw me. I dropped to the ground and ran like the devil, finally hiding in a crate half a block down. It was the wrong crate to hide in, or perhaps the perfect one, because only three minutes after I closed the lid over me, another crate was set on top of mine! I knew I wasn''t going to get out any time soon, so I made myself comfortable and went to sleep. When I woke up, my crate was being loaded onto a cart. And then it was loaded onto a ship! I couldn''t believe it when I felt the floor beneath me rocking in the waves. I yelled and hollered for quite a while before anyone heard me and let me out. They were going to treat me like any other stowaway, but having several thousand pound''s worth of jewels in my pockets did wonders for their opinion of me. The captain himself had breakfast with me that first morning, and we agreed to not discuss how it came about that I was on his ship. Not quite the "sold as a ship''s coal shoveler" Mother predicted for me, eh? The ship, turns out, was on its way to New York City! That''s right, your favorite sister is now in America. And doing quite well, thanks to your future mother-in-law''s contributions. I''m about to board a train heading west, ready for more adventures! I don''t know where I''ll end up, so I''m not bothering to give a return address. If you have a letter for me, just fold it up into the shape of a bird and send it out a window, it''ll get to me eventually. Your far more interesting sibling, Sophie P.S. How do you think Mother would react if I brought home a cowboy for Christmas?
Sophie finished, read the letter over, and nodded to herself. She set the page aside to dry and pulled forward the next one.
Dear Mother, I am so sorry it has taken me this long to write. This is my first opportunity to do so, for reasons which I shall explain. You were right. I went for a midnight stroll on the night of Countess Danescourt''s ball, and two men kidnapped me. It was quite terrifying. As you predicted would happen, they took me bound and gagged to the docks, where I was sold as a coal shoveler to a man on a ship. Thankfully, as it was dark and I was in Sylvester''s old trousers and overcoat, no one realized I was a female until the next morning. By providence, it was the captain who first recognized my feminine beauty, and he rescued me from the dark underbelly of the ship. I explained my predicament, and he sympathized, but there was nothing he could do, as we were already well on our way to Morocco. As I have no money and no passport, I must remain on his ship until it circles back around to England. Thankfully it is a lovely ship, with many respectable passengers. There is a family from Manchester on board, and I have been earning my meals by teaching the little ones to read and play piano. It is possible they may hire me to go with them when we reach Brazil, which is their ultimate destination. If not, there is a possibility of my leaving the ship in Florida, where the immigration office is said to be very lax. I have been playing poker with the ship''s crew, and I find Sylvester is right: card counting is quite easy. By the time we reach that continent I expect to have enough money to tour the entire country. If I''m not in Brazil, that is. I shall attempt to keep you abreast of my situation as much as possible in the coming weeks. Your loving and thoroughly repentant daughter, Sophie
She giggled as she wrote, imagining the succession of dramatic fainting spells her mother would pretend to have with each sentence. For a moment, reading it over, she wondered which version of the story her father would hear. Her brother would never tell their mother about the jewels, but he might tell their father. Not that the man would particularly care either way. He barely knew which of his daughters Sophie was. Across the table, Razan was neatly folding his letters. Sophie watched him.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "You''re very precise," she said. "Thank you." He spoke without looking up. "Can you fold mine too, please?" she asked. "I''m not precise at all." "You are not," he agreed. "Would you prefer they be folded in half or in thirds?" "Thirds, please." She slid the papers over. He scanned the page, frowning. "Your words all look the same, just hoops and lines. It''s not what I thought English writing looked like." "You''ve probably seen printed letters," she said. "These are cursive." "You have two sets of letters?" he asked. "Technically four, if you count capitals and lower-case." She pointed to her brother''s name. "See, this is an S, and then this is an S, but lower-case." "Japanese writing is much simpler," he decided, shaking his head. He folded the letter.
Marie looked over food options in the common area. There was a good variety of dishes, but she didn¡¯t recognize half the ingredients. Louis strolled over, Ebba at his side. ¡°Looking for lunch?¡± he asked cheerfully. She motioned to the menu. ¡°What would you recommend to put meat on someone¡¯s bones?¡± Ebba pointed to the shop that sold fancy drinks. ¡°There¡¯s a drink that¡¯s strawberry juice mixed with sugar and cream. Delicious, but more than three a week will kill you.¡± ¡°As far as food, I¡¯d suggest this thing here,¡± Louis said, pointing. ¡°Beef and rice with some kind of sweet sauce. And a vegetable or two. You can request extra beef.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Marie said, pushing the button to order. ¡°I¡¯d ask if you¡¯re feeling a bit skinny, but clearly your form is perfection, so I must ask who you¡¯re getting food for,¡± Louis said, exuding charm. Ebba crossed her arms. ¡°Oh, her form is perfection?¡± Marie turned to Louis, crossing her arms as well. ¡°Yes, you dare compliment me like that in front of another woman?¡± Louis took half a step back. ¡°My, I just remembered I forgot something very important! I¡¯ll return shortly!¡± He spun around and hurried off. Ebba smirked. ¡°Still an idiot,¡± Marie said, shaking her head. She looked at Ebba. ¡°Strawberries and cream?¡± ¡°Yes, come, I¡¯ll show you,¡± she said, motioning. ¡°The food will take fifteen minutes or so; there¡¯s time.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Marie watched the other woman as they walked. "Out of curiosity, has Louis told you how¡­ well we knew each other?" Ebba slowed. "Yes. It''s easier to get teeth out of that man than straight, truthful information, but I understand why you broke his wrist." "Good," Marie said, focusing on their destination. "What would you like me to do?" ¡°How to put this¡­ Louis is in my group. We have our routines, our customs; you can¡¯t change those. We¡¯ve been flirting for years, and I doubt that¡¯s going to end. But he¡¯s been pining after you since the day we got here.¡± ¡°That tells me what you¡¯d like me to not do. In your ideal world, what would I do?¡± "Be my friend." Ebba put her arm around Marie''s shoulders. "Join us on those routines. We look very different, so if we spend time together we''ll grow in popularity with the rostari. I''m sure they¡¯re crazy for the ''old lovers reunited'' thing. If we become a happy trio with Louis you''ll have people begging for your life story by the end of the month." Marie gave Ebba a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. "A happy trio?" "I will do anything for money." She grinned. "I suspect you''re a kindred spirit." "Power, not money," Marie said, pushing the arm off. Grinning back, she put her arm around Ebba¡¯s waist. "But if you have one you tend to get the other." They looked at each other; two sharks circling the same shipwreck. "We will be friends," Ebba purred. "We will be great friends."
Peter sat at their table, ready to try a cheese empanada. It looked good, but was rather small. The other "simple" meals hadn''t been much bigger, but they were more than a single item on a smallish plate. Razan sat down on his left, a bowl of ramen in his hands. "Sophie and Marie?" Peter shrugged, lifting the fried thing. "Marie said she''d be back, Sophie is probably with Rani." Razan looked at his food. "Waiting would be polite, but it would have been more polite of them to be here at noon." Thus resolving his moral quandary, he began to eat. Peter wondered if he needed hot sauce for the empanada. Marie came into the room, carrying a bowl of food and a pink drink. She set them down in front of Peter and took his empanada. "Eat," she ordered. He blinked. "What is it?" "Food. Eat it." She sat down and bit into the fried thing. His lunch having been stolen, Peter looked at the bowl in front of him. It seemed to be cubes of meat and vegetables in a dark sauce over a pile of rice. He stabbed his fork into the bowl and took a bite. He couldn''t begin to guess what the flavors were, but they were delicious. The pink thing mostly tasted expensive. "You didn''t get me any food?" Razan asked, watching Marie go to the kitchen. She came back with a bottle of hot sauce. "You aren''t the one who starved to death." Peter flinched at that, but didn''t stop eating. "True," Razan said, lifting a slice of cabbage from his bowl. "Madam Marie, I have been wondering, how will we divide funds? When buying clothes, it asks for our group number. Are we supposed to trust each other to not use more than our share? Should someone keep track?" Marie didn''t answer for a few moments, chewing her food. She swallowed, glanced at the door, and looked at him. "I know something you don''t know. Be reasonable with what you buy, but hear this: whenever we get things as a group, as long as Sophie pays last, we''ll never be lacking." She took another bite of the empanada. Razan grinned. "How many jewels does that girl have?" Marie pointedly didn''t answer. "That''s not fair, is it?" Peter asked. "To Sophie, I mean." She shrugged. "In my world money comes and it goes. When you have it, spend it. If our group ever runs out, we will hear your thoughts on how to save and be economical. In the meantime, if we only buy things we need we''ll last a good number of years." Peter looked at the meal she''d bought him. "All right. But I''ll get my own food, if you don''t mind." She nodded. "As long as what you get is enough to feed you."
Sophie nearly touched the purchase button, then pulled back and bit a nail. She''d been doing that for the past ten minutes. The weapon she was looking at, a ¡°chain spear¡±, was amazing. It was thin, as long as her arm, and had joints that could be moved up to 90-degree angles. It had a sliding lever on the hilt that would make the chain part straighten or go back to whatever shape she''d bent it into. It would work underwater. And it was four hundred credits. Sophie would be the first to admit she didn''t have a concept of how much things cost. She''d grown up in a big house with rich parents who''d given her everything she could ever need, on top of an allowance that let her buy anything she wanted. Anything she couldn''t buy, usually because shopkeepers didn''t want to sell weapons and tools to a Lady, she simply stole. But she recognized buying one item for the amount of money that could feed her for a year was excessive. On the other hand, she''d already sold a ring for seven hundred credits, so she might as well buy the chain spear. Besides, buying a weapon was the sort of thing Marie would approve of. She closed her eyes and pushed the button. When she opened them a notification had appeared, telling her the chain spear would be in her room within the hour. Sophie thanked the machine and calmly walked back to her group''s area. Peter was playing cards with Marie. A pile of dishes sat in the sink. "You ate without me?" Sophie pouted, going to the kitchen. "You were late, we were hungry," Marie said absently, putting two cards on the table. "Sorry," Peter said, putting one card down. "And the other?" Marie asked him. "Can''t decide," he muttered. Sophie found her lunch, a cheese-filled pastry, in the small oven. She took a bite, grateful it had been kept warm for her. She ate leaning against the kitchen counter, watching the game. It was called cribbage; she''d heard of it but never played. Mostly because her brother would only play card games if they involved gambling. When she was done eating, she put her plate in the sink and went to her room. The chain spear was sitting on her desk, as if it had always been there. Sophie beamed, running to pick it up. The lever was in center position, keeping the links straight and rigid. It was heavier than what she''d expected, but it was still light enough for her to wave around like a sword. She slid the lever down, and the links slumped loosely. Grinning, she pushed the lever back to center. The chain snapped up, with enough speed and force that it would hurt if it hit someone. Also, the sound it made was amazing. She repeated that five or six times, imagining whacking an opponent in the head as the links snapped into place. Finally she stopped, ready to test its other feature. Sophie set the weapon on her desk, where she''d marked out precise measurements. Sliding the lever down, she bent the chain left in two places, creating a three-sided rectangle. When she was certain the shape was correct, she slid the lever to the center, then up. The chain straightened, and then folded itself back into a rectangle. Sophie swung it around a bit, testing how well the shape would hold. There was some give, but not much. Smiling, she slid the lever to center position and walked to the wall, where she''d put a tiny scratch. She touched the tip of her spear to the seam next to the mark and pushed. It was a tight fit, but the chain slipped through to the other side. Giddy with excitement, she slid the lever up and pulled the handle back ever so slightly. She felt the tip hit something, and felt that something give. The wall went up. Feeling incredibly clever, Sophie danced in her room as the corridor came into view. When the wall was up high enough, she ran out to make sure her spear hadn''t left any mark on the button. It hadn''t. Bouncing with excitement, she kissed the chain spear and ran back into her room as the wall started to close. She didn''t need the rope in her vent any more, she had a key. She could get out any time she liked. And she could go anywhere. 12 - Intis Watcher Peter blocked Razan''s strike with an arm and lashed out with his other fist, hitting the samurai in the ribs. Razan grunted, moving backwards in the water. He was about to strike again when the clock dinged. Their time with the pool was up. "Already?" Sophie asked, swimming to the edge. "It feels like we just got here." "No it doesn''t," Marie said flatly, following her. Razan bowed to Peter. "You did well today." "Thank you," he said, bowing back. "Think I''m ready for tomorrow?" Razan frowned, thinking it over. "I do not know what you will face, but at least I know you will not die." "Thanks, friend, yer jus'' the best at encouragin'' speechiz," Peter said, in as annoying a drawl as he could manage. "I endeavor to be honest," Razan said coldly. "An'' shucks, yer as honest as the day is long." "Peter, stop before he stabs you," Marie recommended. He gave them an idiotic smile and strolled to the changing stalls. They left the swimming room a few minutes later, fully dressed and mostly dry. "Marie, speaking of being stabbed, should I get a knife?" Peter asked. "Razan has his swords, and Lord knows you have enough weapons, but I''ve just got my fists." Marie paused. "I was going to lend you one of mine, but having your own wouldn''t hurt." "Let''s all get knives!" Sophie cheered, bouncing. Peter smiled at her, then frowned. "Is that my belt?" She giggled, tugging at the belt which hung a bit loosely on her hips. "Took you long enough to notice." He checked which belt he was wearing; it was the one he''d been given for the mountain climb. "How¡­ did you get it?" "She can''t tell you," Marie said dismissively. "Magicians and thieves must never reveal their tricks. Razan, are you going to use your swords or would you like a new weapon?" "I''d rather not submerge my weapons in salt water for an unspecified number of hours," Razan decided. As a group they started walking to the weapon room. Peter followed, watching Sophie. "I¡¯d like my belt back, please." She turned, looking at him from under her lashes. "You''ll have to take it." Peter''s brain stopped working for a few seconds as she smiled. "Later," Marie said, her voice cutting through the fog. "Peter, are you better with pistol or blade?" "Never figured out how to use a sword, but I can hit a target with anything," he answered, still watching Sophie. "Razan?" "I was taught to shoot, but find it annoying. Blades are much simpler." Marie grunted, opening the weapon room¡¯s door. "Good to know. If there''s ever a true battle here, we have a well-rounded group." "What about me?" Sophie asked. "I don''t know how to fight at all." Razan smiled pleasantly. "You can steal their belts."
Marie glanced up as the door to the weapons room opened. Kadek and Paola stood in the doorway, checking who was inside. They saw her and smiled. "Good morning," Kadek said formally, walking to Marie. "As leader of the Stars, I would like to offer your group a truce." "A truce?" Marie echoed, turning to face him. "Yes. We will not attack members of your group if you agree to not attack us," he said. "Is that allowed?" Paola answered. "It''s always allowed to make truces with up to five groups. For this contest we can¡¯t team up to steal from other groups, or help if we see someone being attacked." Marie held out her hand. "That''s reasonable. On behalf of the Drifters, I accept your truce." Kadek gave her a firm handshake. "Thank you. Good luck tomorrow." "Likewise." The pair waved to the rest of her group and left. "Should we find four more groups to offer a truce to?" Razan asked, once the door was closed. Peter frowned. "We don''t really know four more groups, do we?" "We know two," Sophie said. "Surely we can find two more." Marie shook her head. "I''m not keen on offering friendship like that." "Allow me," Razan said, bowing slightly. "I do not know teams, but I have met my fellow samurai here. I can ask them." "We''d have to meet," Marie said. "Our group and theirs, to make sure we recognize each other." "No we don''t," Sophie said. "We all wear distinct colors. All Razan has to do is tell us what colors to avoid attacking." "This is true," Razan nodded. "Very well," Marie decided. "If you''re done, go find two samurai to make truces with. I''ll offer to the Seabirds and¡­ whatever Ebba''s group is called." "Windward," Peter supplied. "Right, them." Razan bowed and left. Marie turned back to the image of brass knuckles with three blades sticking up. The weapon looked insane, but functional. Sophie smiled hopefully. "Rani said they''re easy to use.¡± "I''m sure she did," Marie muttered. "No, I''d prefer if you had something more defensive. You need an iron staff or something. A stick that can''t be cut through." "What about this?" Sophie asked, scrolling through the options. She chose one and stood aside.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Marie glanced at the name, chain spear, and read the description. She saw the price and looked at Sophie''s all-too-innocent face. So this is what the girl had bought. She read the description again. "It''ll take some training to learn how to hold it in a fight, you don''t want a weapon to hit one of the links and break it, but it would do for you, yes. If you bent the end into a hook, there are plenty of surprising and painful things to do with that." Sophie beamed. "I''ll get this, then." Her movements told Marie she absolutely already had one. Marie turned to Peter, letting the girl pretend to buy the thing. "Have you found something?" He glanced at her. "I have, but it''s expensive. There''s a crossbow with various attachments. One is a line and reel, like a fishing rod, and it comes with, essentially, harpoon bolts." "Can it be used to shoot different things?" Marie asked. "I could see a grappling hook be useful in our future." Peter pushed a button. "Yes, there are a dozen hooks and bolts I can use in the crossbow." She went to stand at his side, scrolling back to the harpoon. It looked very sharp. Anyone who got that stuck in them would have an exceedingly bad time. And then she checked the price. They had two hundred and fifty credits, but only barely. "It''s a versatile weapon you will get much use from," Marie decided. "Buy it." "Are you sure?" Peter asked. "Yes. I''ll lend you a knife as well, but having a ranged weapon that works underwater may be lifesaving." He shrugged, pushing a button to purchase the crossbow and harpoon bolts. Together, they watched their group funds blink from 286 to 36. "We have to win this contest," Peter muttered. Marie raised an eyebrow at him. "Now are you willing to fight?" He looked at her grimly. "Until death."
Razan smiled as he walked into the sparring area. Ariharu was polishing his blades, getting them ready for a fight. Keiko was sharing tea with Ujinao, describing something with quick hand movements. "Miyamoto!" Ariharu called, bobbing his head. "Will your group be joining tomorrow?" Razan bowed briefly. "Yes, we will. I''ve come in search of a truce between teams." Keiko looked over. "I believe my team still has a place open." He bowed to her. "Thank you. My team leader was going to speak to yours directly, as they know each other." "I can offer a truce," Ariharu said. "My team is Dust. I''ll ask the leader, Xavier, to visit your area tonight." Razan bowed again. "Thank you." He looked at Ujinao. "The Bees do not make truces," Ujinao said, shaking his head. "Sorry." Keiko set her cup down, thinking. "I doubt Iesue will have a spot open; he likes making truces as quickly as possible." "That''s unfortunate," Razan said slowly. "Is there a team you recommend I ask?" "Masks," Ujinao said immediately. Keiko glared at him. "Don''t ask them," Ariharu said flatly. "They don''t attack others, but attacking them is a bad idea. They¡­ Don''t do it." "Why not?" Razan asked. "People act afraid of them, but I don''t see why." "They''re a high-ranking team," Keiko said. "And yet they don''t ask for or give help. Bad things happen to people who interact with them. They rarely leave their area, and no one has seen their faces. Some suspect they aren''t human, others suspect they aren''t alive." "Doesn''t mean you can''t try to dethrone them," Ujinao shrugged. "I encourage you to try. Ask that girl on your team to befriend them." "Don''t," Ariharu warned. "I''m not saying they''re spirits, but¡­ they might be spirits." "Or something like the birds," Keiko said, pointing to an upper corner of the room. A hawk sat there, hidden by shadows. "The rostari make birds, maybe they made fake humans." Razan looked at it for a few seconds. "That would explain why they''re in masks¡­" He smiled at Ujinao. "I think I will ask Sophie to befriend them. It would be interesting. Thank you for the suggestion. Meanwhile, is there anyone I should ask for a truce?" "The Diamonds?" Ariharu tried, looking at Keiko. "They may be completely taken, but they''re quite helpful." "I''m sure they''re full," Keiko said. "Everyone wants to be in a truce with them." Razan nodded. "I''ll ask regardless. Which area is theirs?" "Five," Ariharu answered. "Thank you," Razan said, bowing once more. "Truly. I appreciate your help and advice." They bowed back as he left. He went to the weapons room, found it empty, and walked back to his group area. Marie was making coffee, pouring water into the pitcher with ground beans. He walked over and bowed slightly. ¡°We have a truce with the Dust team. Their leader will contact you tonight.¡± ¡°Good. Only them?¡± she asked. He nodded. ¡°It was suggested we make a truce with the Diamonds.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I won¡¯t introduce myself only to gain a truce. That¡¯s a good way to get stabbed in the back.¡± ¡°Frankly, I agree.¡± They watched the liquid go from gold to black. ¡°If I may¡­ I was told the Bees do not make truces. I do not particularly like the member of that team I¡¯m acquainted with. If you see someone dressed in yellow and grey, please target them.¡± Marie grinned. ¡°Ah, so not everyone here is happy and friendly? I am shocked.¡± ¡°I do not know the other members of the team, but at least one person here is not happy or friendly.¡± ¡°How good of a fighter is he?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Nothing extraordinary. Competent, but relies too much on strength.¡± She nodded. ¡°Bees. Yellow and grey. I¡¯ll keep a weather eye out.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Any time¡­ Have you had coffee yet? I know you didn¡¯t like chocolate.¡± Razan took a step back. ¡°I¡¯ll stay with tea, thank you.¡± Marie shrugged, pushing the plunger down. ¡°Suit yourself.¡±
Sophie looked at the assortment of objects which had appeared on her desk during supper. The first things to catch her eye were two thick elastic bands, striped in her team''s colors. Nop instructed her to wear one on each wrist for identification. Next was a simple mesh drawstring bag, for holding shells and anything else she found interesting. If she spotted a shiny rock and put it in the bag, she would be allowed to keep it. Less interesting but more practical was a pair of clear goggles which fit snugly over her eyes. And lastly came a breathing apparatus. There was a dark, leather-like bag full of air, enough for half an hour of breathing. It had straps that fit loosely over her shoulders. A dial on the side clearly marked how much good air was left. A pair of tubes ran from the bag to a face mask. The white mask felt like rubber. It fit tightly over the bridge of Sophie''s nose and under her chin, looping around her ears to stay in place. When she put it on, the mask inflated slightly, providing a bubble of air around her nose and mouth. It wasn''t the most comfortable thing in the world, but once in the water she was sure she''d forget it was there. Sophie put it all on and picked up her chain spear, pretending to look fearsome. She didn''t. She looked like a child playing at being a bandit. After a moment of thought, she straightened up and held herself like Marie did; shoulders back, arms loose, one foot slightly in front of the other, ready to lash out with her weapon. She didn''t look as intimidating as Marie, she lacked the height, but she did look prepared to fight. Perfect.
Pacific Ocean, South of Hawai''i Marie flinched at the pins-and-needles sensation, fingers tightening around her dagger and cutlass. Suddenly she was in a clear glass dome, suspended a third of the way between seafloor and the surface. She stared about in amazement, shocked at the amount of life and color. Sophie ran to press her face to the glass, exclaiming at the colors. Peter joined her, but Razan stepped next to Marie. He looked just as shocked as she was. "So this is what it looks like¡­" Marie glanced at him. "I had some idea, but never imagined it was this vibrant." "Same," he said, watching a small shark glide by their platform. "The dishes I could make with all these fish¡­" She laughed. "We are allowed to keep things we find. Have Sophie collect some oysters." "And a shark and a fat squid," he chuckled. "No shark," Marie said, shaking her head. "I don''t eat anything that might want to take a bite out of me." "A good predator shows respect for other predators," Razan said, nodding. Marie grinned at him, then snapped her fingers. "Enough gawking, we have shells to find. How do we get out of this thing?" "I''ve already seen a dozen shells," Sophie said, turning away from the glass. "They aren''t hidden at all. I presume we leave through the hole there." She pointed down to an area Marie could only just see was different from the rest of the floor. Peter shouldered his air bag, fitting the mask over his mouth. "Lead the way." Sophie pulled on her mask, grabbed her spear, and bounced into the hole. Ripples formed as she vanished, showing clearly where the edge of the water was. Peter quickly followed. Marie and Razan adjusted their bags and masks, Marie finally seeing the pile of spare air bags. ¡°You¡¯re sure I have to watch the child?¡± he asked resignedly. ¡°You said samurai were like bodyguards, yes?¡± Marie asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°I hereby formally assign you to guard Sophie.¡± He bowed in reply. She motioned to the bags. ¡°Looks like we can take more than one at a time. Use the first half hour exploring the immediate area to the north, then take enough to go further. Peter and I will go south.¡± Razan looked up, pointed at the sun, then moved his arm to the left. ¡°North?¡± Marie nodded. ¡°Good luck.¡± She slid into the water. 13 - Pacific Ocean Pacific Ocean, south of Hawai¡¯i Sophie pushed herself from one rock to another, filling her bag with shells. Razan swam behind her, scanning the water around them. ¡°Is this a jellyfish?¡± she asked, seeing a small translucent thing floating along. ¡°It looks so silly.¡± She reached out to poke it. Razan grabbed her wrist, pulling her sharply back. ¡°Yes. They are poisonous.¡± ¡°How?¡± she asked, looking at the creature. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to it.¡± ¡°The hairs burn if you touch them. Don¡¯t.¡± She huffed, moving away. She saw a purple shell and picked it up, adding it to her bag. A nearby fish was startled, and puffed up. Sophie laughed as the scales turned to spikes. ¡°Oh how threatening,¡± she told it, reaching out. Razan grabbed her wrist again. ¡°Pufferfish. Also poisonous.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s so cute,¡± she said. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t find it cute if your hand turned black and fell off.¡± She rolled her eyes, spotting a tiny ball of spines. ¡°Is that poisonous? It¡¯s adorable.¡± ¡°Yes! Urchin! Poisonous!¡± ¡°Honestly, Razan, is anything in the ocean not poisonous?¡± He gave her an annoyed glare. ¡°Oysters. ...Usually.¡± ¡°I shall search for oysters, then,¡± she said, turning away. Another shell caught her eye, and she swam to it. When she picked it up she laughed. ¡°Look, something¡¯s made a home in this one!¡± A baby octopus peeked out, showing blue rings on a white body. ¡°I know what an octopus is, you can¡¯t tell me this is poisonous.¡± Razan grabbed the shell and threw it as far away from them as he could manage. ¡°Sophie, if you somehow survive until noon it will be heaven''s own doing.¡±
Peter followed Marie, searching the sand and coral for shells. ¡°Air is down to half, let¡¯s turn around,¡± Marie said, checking her gauge. He checked his and saw it was in the yellow. ¡°Yes, Captain.¡± They changed course, heading north-east. ¡°There¡¯s someone alone to our east,¡± he said, scanning the water. ¡°Can¡¯t see colors at this distance.¡± Marie looked over. ¡°That makes four we¡¯ve seen alone. I admit, I thought the groups would be closer together.¡± ¡°The ocean is big, so I hear,¡± Peter said. ¡°They can probably spread groups out as wide as they like.¡± ¡°The ocean is big, but reefs like this are small,¡± she told him. ¡°Usually. And usually they¡¯re near islands.¡± Peter spotted a shell and pocketed it. His bag was getting full. ¡°Have you ever seen the ocean?¡± Marie asked. ¡°No. I almost got sent to the Gulf once, but orders changed and I¡­ didn¡¯t go.¡± She picked up a shell and turned it slowly in her hands. ¡°I¡¯ve never been more than two hours inland. I was born by the water and I thought I¡¯d die by it. Even so, I¡¯ve never seen half the creatures here.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never seen any of them,¡± he said, shrugging. ¡°This isn¡¯t your sea, it¡¯s an unknown ocean. At least you know what¡¯s likely to be dangerous.¡± Marie looked towards the sky. ¡°I¡¯m going to the surface.¡± ¡°Are you s-¡± He stopped as she shot up, moving like an arrow through the water. ¡°All right then.¡± He followed, going slower. Peter grew nervous as he left the life and color of the reef behind. Somehow the emptiness of the ocean closed in, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. He checked all sides constantly, watching for an attack. He desperately wanted his poncho. Finally his head broke through the surface. Peter pulled the mask down and gasped, noticing he was trembling. He needed land; he was drowning with nothing to hold on to. He flailed, searching for something solid. Strong hands grabbed his arm and neck, steadying him. ¡°Breathe,¡± Marie ordered. ¡°Relax your arms, let the waves carry you.¡± Peter ripped his goggles off, opening his eyes. He felt the cold wind and hot sun on his face, and started to calm down. Marie let go, smiling. ¡°Here. This is my world. Not whatever¡¯s below us. The waves and currents, the contradiction of being burned and frozen at once. You can die of thirst in all this water. You can lie on your back and become exhausted.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°There is no safety here. Only this close to death can I feel alive.¡± He looked at her as she turned her face to the sun. ¡°Should we go back down? I don¡¯t want to get lost¡­¡± ¡°Current¡¯s headed north. Two minutes and we¡¯ll be directly above our platform.¡± She opened an eye to glance at him, then closed it. ¡°Relax a bit.¡± Peter tried to relax. He still felt exposed, in danger. Turning, he noticed a black and white bird sitting nearby. He¡¯d seen one of those birds at the seafloor, too. ¡°Do you suppose those are the underwater version of hawks?¡± he asked with fake calm, pointing. ¡°Don¡¯t see how else a puffin could be here,¡± Marie answered without opening her eyes. ¡°Puffin?¡± ¡°Arctic seabird. They don¡¯t survive in heat. Knew a whaler who wanted to train one like a parrot but they never survived past Brazil.¡± She chuckled. ¡°He must have killed a dozen of those poor things. Finally someone found a black parrot for him, but it died as soon as they reached Nantucket. Birds don¡¯t do well outside their native climates.¡± He watched her, not sure what to say. Not sure why she was telling him this. Finally Marie sighed. "We should be above our platform. Ready to go down?" Peter pulled the goggles back over his eyes, still wishing for a poncho. "Yes, Captain."
Razan followed Sophie away from the platform, carrying extra air bags. She seemed to attract every dangerous creature in the ocean. He half expected an angry dragon to emerge from the sand, claiming she''d stolen a sacred pearl or something. That or a giant shark would pass by and she''d try to befriend it.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "Razan, what should we do if someone comes towards us?" Sophie asked suddenly, slowing down. "Fight," he answered simply. Her hand went to her spear. "Maybe they''re friendly?" "We are on a schedule," he said, looking around. "Passing by for a chat would put them at a disadvantage." Finally he saw a bald head watching them from behind a mass of coral. "Yes, but attacking just as we leave our platform can''t benefit them," she pointed out nervously. Razan stopped. "Excellent observation. Let''s go say hello." He turned and moved in the direction of the head. "Hello!" Sophie followed, hand still on her weapon. "Lovely day, isn''t it?" Their watcher came out of hiding. "Greetings," she said. She was a dark-skinned woman with two-toned green fabric wrapped around her chest and hips. "It is a lovely day, yes. Would you mind giving me your bags?" "Our air bags?" Sophie asked. "No, the collection bags." Sophie held hers up. "They''re empty." "Yes, but without them we can only carry four or five shells at a time," Razan said slowly, pulling out his new knife. It was a good sharp thing, the thin blade twice as long as his hand. "Precisely." The woman pulled a long-bladed spear from behind her. "Sorry, but I will have to threaten you now." Razan adjusted his stance, aware Sophie was doing the same. For a few seconds no one moved, and then the woman shot forwards, her spear moving so fast he barely had time to duck. She caught the very end of the shaft and swung it at him. The water forced it to go at an angle she wasn''t expecting. Razan took the opportunity to move in, slashing at her as he grabbed at the spear''s shaft. She knocked his strike away with a fist, pulling the spear back just in time for his hand to close around the blade. Cursing loudly as saltwater touched fresh cuts, Razan slashed at her with his knife again. The woman laughed as she backed away, spinning her spear to swipe at his stomach. Razan pushed himself over it in time to avoid what could have been a nasty cut. He wished he had his swords. A long weapon would be very useful in this situation. The woman spun around, a move that when not in water would help gain speed. In water, though, it just made her telegraph her strike. Razan crouched under it, then kicked himself off the sand to tackle her. To her credit, she didn''t let go of the spear as they floated back and down. Razan slashed her across the chest, drawing a line of blood. She yanked her spear back across his skull, the blade thankfully at a wrong angle to cut anything more than a few strands of hair. Razan grabbed the strap of her air bag, using it to pull himself forwards and press his knife against her throat just as she shoved the tip of her spear against his neck. They looked at each other for a few seconds, locked in a stalemate. The woman''s eyes flicked away, and suddenly the spear was yanked back. Sophie, the tip of her spear wrapped around the other''s shaft, put her foot on the woman''s arm and pulled away her weapon. Honestly, Razan had forgotten about Sophie. He gave her a nod, and she looked stupidly proud of herself. "I surrender," the woman under him said calmly. "Keep your bags. I''ll leave." Razan glared at her, knife staying against her throat. "Oh, you''re new," she said. "This is not life or death. I have nothing to prove. This is a game. I acknowledge my defeat." Cautiously, Razan stood. She lifted a hand, and he helped her to her feet. Sophie held the woman¡¯s spear out, blade straight up. "If you steal bags, do you have any spare to offer us?" Razan asked. "Yes, behind the coral," the woman said, pointing. She watched Sophie. Razan sighed, swiping the spear. "Forgive my companion for not knowing the first thing about weapons." He laid the shaft flat across both palms and held it out, bowing. The woman smiled, taking it. "Thank you. And, forgiven. Wasn''t sure what you were doing, girl." "Sorry," Sophie said sheepishly. The woman slid the spear into place between her air bag and back. "I look forward to fighting you again," she told Razan. She gave them a salute and turned away. "Good luck." "You too!" Sophie called, waving. Razan went to find the bags she''d left behind. "Have you never held a weapon before?" "In front of other people? No." He glanced at Sophie. "We''ll have to discuss that with Marie." "You mean I''ll get training?" she asked, bouncing along after him. "You need it," he grumbled. Then sighed again. "Thank you for your help." She beamed. "You''re welcome!"
Marie pulled herself along the seafloor using her hands. There wasn''t much cover, but if she moved slowly and steadily it would be enough. Meanwhile, Peter was purposefully being very bad at hiding. He walked towards their prey in clumsy steps, using things for cover that were far too small. Finally the man they were stalking gave up pretending to not see Peter and called out. "You''re embarrassing me. Just attack already." Peter stood to his full height, pulling the crossbow off his belt. He aimed it at the man. "If that''s what you''d like¡­ Drop your bag and back away." "No," the man said. Marie wasn''t sure if he felt he could dodge Peter''s harpoon, or if he thought the shot would go wide. Either way, his back was towards her. She drew her dagger and moved closer. "Ah, sorry, please drop your bag," Peter said. The man laughed. "Are you an idiot?" Marie struck. She grabbed the straps of his air bag, using them to steady herself as she pressed her dagger under his chin. "I would appreciate it if you didn''t insult my crew like that. Especially when he''s been an excellent distraction." The man stiffened, then relaxed. "Fair. Not an idiot. But what are you going to do? You can''t kill me. And I''m not giving up my shells." "Kill? I would never do that." She pulled her dagger back, then pushed the blade down on his ear. "I know how to avoid important blood vessels. There are surprisingly few in your face. You don''t need ears or a nose to survive. Hell, you don''t need your fingers or skin, either. I''ve seen men lose both eyes and be just fine. Trust me, I''m far too experienced a torturer to kill you." He was trying to shrink away from her blade, but she kept pushing harder. Blood tinted the water. "You''ll get in trouble!" he yelled, putting a hand on her wrist. In a flash she let go of his bag, pulled out her serrated knife, and wrapped her arm around him. She pressed the blade into the skin just above his nipple and pulled it back, sawing down. "You don''t need this, either. Certainly won''t end your life if I cut it off." "Fine!" he snapped. "Take the shells! I don''t care!" He shook the bag off from around his wrist. "You''re insane!" "No, I''m experienced." Marie moved away from the man, letting him paddle away. Peter swam up to her, catching the bag just before it hit the sand. "Think you scared him enough?" "Scared, yes. Hurt, no. He didn''t fight at all. Should have taken some skin." "Some people prefer diplomacy to action," he said softly. Marie looked at him. "You prefer talking to fighting, but you will fight. He didn''t even touch his weapon. He just growled and whined like a toothless dog." Peter tied the bag to his belt. "True. You cut him, though, be happy with that." ¡°It¡¯ll heal up in a week,¡± she said absently, her eyes catching another lone figure. She watched the person in a full diving suit move slowly across the sand. Peter followed her gaze and watched as well. The Mask member didn¡¯t notice them, focused completely on the reef. ¡°Should we?¡± Marie asked. It took Peter a few seconds to answer. ¡°We have been warned against it, Captain.¡± She grinned at him. ¡°I tend to ignore warnings that don¡¯t involve hurricanes.¡± He looked back at her with emotionless eyes. ¡°I follow your lead.¡± ¡°You, Sergeant, are quite a good soldier,¡± Marie decided. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Same as before.¡± ¡°Yes, Captain.¡± He pushed himself forwards, clumsily making his way towards the stranger. Marie, meanwhile, crouched down and swam into position. Peter stopped to collect a shell, and the diver spotted him. Marie watched from behind a tall coral as the diver waved, then went back to searching the sea floor. Curious, Marie looked around. She couldn''t see any other Mask member. This person was just wandering about as if strolling through a park. How stupid. She motioned at Peter to hang back. He nodded, changing to search for shells parallel to the diver. Marie smiled to herself as she moved quickly along the sand. He was a very good soldier. Soon she was behind the diver. She switched from moving swiftly to moving silently. The huge diver''s helmet obscured most of the person''s vision, but she wasn''t going to risk anything. Peter yelped, flailing comically as he tripped over a protruding rock. He managed a full somersault in the water before landing softly flat on his back. Marie thought it was a bit extreme, but the diver''s attention was fully on Peter. Marie, meanwhile, had taken hold of the diver''s shell bag and pulled it off their belt. She backed away quietly; the longer she could go without being discovered the better. As she turned, she noticed six puffins watching her. So far there had been three at most. A part of her wanted to drop the bag and run. Another wanted to simply swim away as fast as possible. But years of experience overrode instinct. The puffins were merely watching. They weren''t going to attack or alert the diver. Marie continued moving until she was safely behind a boulder. She sat back, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She''d gotten away. A crossbow bolt hit her in the arm. 14 - Pacific Ocean Pacific Ocean, south of Hawai¡¯i Peter saw the other group too late. He dug his toes into the sand and ran towards Marie, watching a man take aim with a crossbow. Marie cried out when the bolt hit her. Peter, not sure how bad the wound was, tried doubling his speed. He saw Marie shoot up, probably heading for the surface again. "To the platform!" Marie shouted at him. Peter immediately changed direction, breathing hard as he pushed through the water. Marie was on her own. She might be fine, but he still worried. Peter looked over his shoulder to see two men in yellow and grey clothes following him while the women of the group followed Marie. Peter decided to not worry about the pirate. He pulled the small knife Marie had lent him off his belt, prepared to fight. The platform was barely visible; it would take twenty minutes to get there. He hoped his pursuers would give up before then.
Razan pulled a shark off Sophie''s foot. She waved her leg back and forth as the creature swam angrily away. Blood tinted the water. "Rude shark," she grumbled. Razan sat back on the sand and looked up at her. "You shouldn''t have kicked it." "It shouldn''t have startled me!" He rubbed his forehead. "Let''s¡­ go back and see if Nop can wrap the wound." "I''m fine," the girl said. "It barely hurts." "No, but it''s bleeding," Razan said patiently. "Blood attracts sharks. Do you want to get bitten again?" "Yes." He glared at her. "I''d wager I''m the only English Lady who''s ever been bitten by a shark," she said primly, turning away from him. "If I go home with a missing foot I''ll have such an amazing tale to tell." Razan debated strangling her. "Look, a fight!" She pointed north, where two men were trying to decapitate each other with wide swords. Razan watched them, deciding to murder Sophie later. The men were moving clumsily in the water, putting far too much force into each strike. They were clearly getting tired. "They''re going to be exhausted by the time one of them wins," Sophie said. "They''d be very easy to steal from," Razan added. "Should we?" she asked. He slowly smiled as one of the men dug his sword into the sand and feebly tried to pull it back out. "We should." "Excellent." Razan looked around. He didn''t see anyone else watching the fight. "After we get the bags, let''s return to the platform. Don''t want to carry too many shells on us." "All right." "If anyone else goes for the winner, we''ll let them have it." She pouted. "Fine." He glanced at her. "I''ll grapple him. You focus on getting the bag. As soon as you have it, swim away." The pout vanished. "You want me to help?" "It would be foolish of me to try and do everything myself when you are perfectly competent." Sophie beamed. "I''m competent." Razan ignored the comment. "Looks like the red one is about to lose. Let''s get closer." "Should we be sneaky?" Sophie asked. "No point." He pulled the knife off his belt. "They''re too tired. This will be easy."
Marie looked down. One of the women following her had given up, and the other was watching the water around her more than Marie. It was interesting how frightening being in the middle of the open ocean was. Somehow being surrounded by absolutely nothing made people fear something suddenly appearing. Marie welcomed that fear like an old friend. She hung in the water, not moving, cutlass in one hand, knife in the other, and breathed. Simply breathed. The woman following her finally reached her elevation. She pointed an oddly-shaped halberd at Marie. "Give me your shells," she ordered. Marie watched a spot over the woman''s shoulder. "That won''t be necessary." The woman moved closer. "Shells. Now." She twitched, clearly wanting to check what Marie was looking at. "Seven¡­" Marie said softly, still watching a speck behind the woman. "Six¡­" The woman glanced over her shoulder, pulling her arm in. "Why are you counting?" "Five¡­" "Nothing''s there," she said, no confidence in her voice. Marie smiled. "Four¡­" The woman fidgeted, her breathing getting faster. "Three¡­" "What''s there?!" "Two¡­" The woman couldn''t take it. She spun around, slashing at whatever imaginary creature Marie was watching. Instantly Marie shot forwards, wrapping one arm around her waist and another around her neck. "One." The woman gave a weak laugh, her heartbeat racing. "Clever." "A simple trick, but one that works," Marie said, pressing the blade of her knife against her throat. "Hand over your bag and we can pretend it never happened." "Hmm." She adjusted the shaft of the halberd in her hands. "No, if I hit you in the stomach and push you back, your knife will slice my throat open." "It will, yes." "And trying to kick you in the crotch probably wouldn''t do anything of use for me." "It wouldn''t, no." ¡°Yanking the bolt out of your arm might help¡­¡± ¡°Or it might piss me off.¡± ¡°A more likely outcome, yes.¡± The woman untied the bag from her belt. "We had an epic battle." "Of course," Marie agreed, taking the bag. "You nearly cut my arm off. I only won through sheer luck." "A simple miscalculation on my part," the woman said, moving away from Marie. "It could happen to anyone." "Anyone at all." The woman turned and held out her hand. "Lydia. Nice to meet you." "Marie. Likewise." She gave Lydia a firm handshake. "Would you mind following me back down? I''m mildly terrified a whale will come out of nowhere and swallow me." Marie grinned. "Less afraid of me than of the water?" Lydia looked around as she turned to face the reef. "At least I know you won''t try to eat me. I don''t have that assurance from anything else out here."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "True. But don''t worry, most fish only nibble."
Peter swam, knowing he was about to run out of air. Pain shot through his chest with every breath. He had to stop and change air bags, but when he did the enemy would catch up to him. In the desert he would have scanned for something to throw at them. He knew how to pick up scorpions without being stung, he knew which snakes were venomous. But here, surrounded by creatures with shapes and colors he''d never seen, he had no idea what was harmless and what could kill at a touch. Several things looked dangerous, but how dangerous? And if he tried throwing them, would they just swim away? Finally Peter felt his air growing stale. He had to stop. There was no other option. He turned to face his pursuers, holding his hands up. The two men slowed, moving to flank him. "Would you mind not attacking until I''ve changed my air?" Peter asked politely. "I''m in the red." "Not at all." "Go ahead." Peter nodded, pulling one of the spare bags off his belt. His heart raced as he pulled the old one off his back and switched them. Moving as slowly as he thought they''d allow, he clipped the old bag onto his belt and slid the new one onto his back. He still hadn''t thought of an escape plan. "Thank you for your patience," he said, smiling even though they couldn''t see it through the mask. "You''re welcome," the man on his left said. The man on his right nodded. "It gave me time to decide which weapon to use." He held up a sickle. A bang rang out, and the man dropped his sickle, cursing. Blood poured out where a sharp metal bolt had hit him on the wrist and glanced off. Across from Peter, a fourth person appeared from behind a clump of coral. He smiled, recognizing Grace. Grace strolled towards them, reloading what looked like a miniature cannon. "Hallo, Wasps. Drifter. Now, I''m not allowed to fight with anyone against an enemy. But everyone can attack and defend as they choose. So how''s this: Wasps attack the Drifter to get his shells, he fights to run away, and I attack you Wasps to get your shells. You can fight back or run away as you see fit. Does that sound fair?" Peter nodded. "A solid plan." The Wasps nodded at each other. The one to Peter''s right picked up his sickle. "I''ll take the Drifter," he said, motioning to Peter. His teammate looked alarmed, glanced at Grace, and reluctantly lifted his dagger. ¡°Nils, she¡¯s the one who broke my foo-¡± "Wonderful," Grace said, and fired her mini cannon. Peter used the distraction to pull the crossbow off his belt and shoot a harpoon bolt. It hit his opponent in the shoulder, barely going far enough in to stick. The man cursed, lunging at Peter with his sickle held out. Wondering if a strike could be any more telegraphed, Peter took half a step back. As Nils swung, Peter grabbed the thin rope attached to his bolt and yanked it out. Nils howled in pain as blood poured from his shoulder. Peter grabbed his wrists and wrenched them behind his back. He kicked the man to his knees and stopped, a bit amazed at how easy that had been. The other fight, however, was still going. Grace was fighting with a morningstar, her shoulder cannon dropped to the sand behind her. Her opponent had pulled a rod off his bandolier and was using that as a shield while he slashed nervously in her general direction. The Seabird was clearly the stronger of the two, but she ironically lacked grace. The size and shape of her weapon was putting her at a disadvantage here. The man''s weapon, however, was perfect for slashing through water. Peter knew he couldn''t help, so he cut a length of rope off his reel and used it to tie Nil¡¯s wrists together. He backed off as Grace got stabbed in the leg. "Thanks for the help," Peter called at her. "I''m gonna run away now. Good luck!" "No worries," Grace called back, landing a solid hit. "G''luck, mate!" Hoping she''d be all right, Peter swam for his platform.
Sophie smiled at the grappled man, picking up his sword. "If we''re allowed to keep things we find here, surely that includes weapons?" "No, it doesn''t!" he snapped, struggling feebly against Razan. "Put that down!" "Don''t take people''s weapons," Razan said. "You''d end up regretting it." "Fine," Sophie sighed. "This is too heavy for me, anyways." She dropped the sword. "I don''t want anyone to see me with it and think I''m compensating for something." "What¡­ would you be compensating for?" Razan asked. Sophie got to work untying the mesh bags from the man''s belt. "I haven''t the foggiest, it''s just something my brother said." Their enemy struggled. "I carry a heavy sword because it adds weight to my attacks! That''s all!" "I''m sure," Razan said dryly. "Done," Sophie said, holding up the bags. "Oh, a few gold ones in here. Thank you." "Swim," Razan ordered. "I''ll give you half a minute before releasing this idiot." "Thank you!" She put the bags on her own belt, then started swimming. Pausing only to pick up a blue shell, she made her way south. Razan caught up with her, moving much faster than what she could manage. Together they slowly swam for the platform. "You''re getting tired," Razan stated after a few minutes. Sophie looked at him in surprise. "How do you know?" "You haven''t said or done anything annoying since leaving the idiot." "Look, a shark! I''m going to befriend it," she said immediately, changing direction. Razan caught the end of her braid, holding her in place. "It''s not a challenge. If you''re tired, staying in the water could be dangerous." "Being in the water at all is dangerous," Sophie pointed out, pulling her hair away from him. "True. But when you''re tired, being in water can make your blood cold." She frowned. "Really?" "Ask Marie," he shrugged, starting to swim again. "When we reach the platform, you should stay there and rest." "What about you?" Sophie asked, following him. "I''m used to water, I''m fine. I''ll search the area around the platform for shells." She wasn''t happy with the idea, but now that he mentioned it she did feel rather cold. Her arms and legs were covered in goosebumps. It took them close to half an hour to get back to their platform. They picked up a few more shells, but not many. No one approached them, although they passed a few people. By the time they were directly under the platform, Sophie was downright exhausted. She grabbed the edge and¡­ hung there. She didn''t have the energy to pull herself up. If she just slept for a moment, she''d regain enough strength. Her eyes closed, and she felt herself drift downwards. "Sophie!" someone called. The voice sounded far away. She felt someone grab her wrists, and suddenly she was hauled out of the water. Her eyes snapped open as cold air pressed against her skin, and she curled into fetal position on the wet floor, shaking violently. Razan pulled the mask off her face, shouting something she couldn''t hear over the sound of her chattering teeth. She gasped for breath, unable to fill her lungs. A bird hopped around her. It looked her straight in the eye, chirping. The noises it made almost sounded like words. "Sophie, what have you done now?" her mother asked. Still shivering, Sophie gave a faint laugh. "I w-was on-n an ad-venture¡­" She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than sleep.
Marie pulled herself onto the platform, knowing something was wrong. Well, something other than the bolt still in her arm. Razan pushed himself off the wall, looking at her. "Sophie got too tired. She was shivering and muttering nonsense. I called Nop and bailed her." Peter, who had been pacing around in circles, helped Marie to her feet. "Should we all bail? You¡¯re hurt, too." "No," Marie said. "Unless you feel too tired to continue?" "I''m not," Razan said. "I''ve been here a few extra minutes, I''m good," Peter reported. Marie looked them over, and decided they''d be fine. "You two go west, finish off the contest. I''ll see to Sophie." "Yes, Captain," Peter said, stepping back. Razan only bowed. Marie gave him a curt nod, found her bail button, and pushed it. A blue light surrounded her, accompanied by the pins-and-needles feeling, and soon she was in the transport room. A bird flew up to her, scanning her arm. ¡°Please lay down and we will fix this as best we can.¡± Not one to argue with birds, Marie did as she was told. The bird sprayed something on her arm, and immediately her pain lessened. And then her pain increased as it grabbed the bolt and yanked it out. She yelled, angry, as the bird sprayed something else on her. The fresh wound stung, but less than she¡¯d expected. Another bird came over, holding a roll of cloth and a strange x-shaped thing. It put the x thing over her wound, pulling the skin closed. Then with dexterous claws it wrapped the cloth around her arm. ¡°Was that your only wound?¡± the bird asked. ¡°Yes. Where¡¯s Sophie?¡± ¡°Would you like me to take you to her?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Marie said, almost snapping. It nodded, and once again blue light covered Marie. When it faded, she was in a small, white room. Sophie was lying in the middle of the floor, trembling. A towel had been placed over her. A ring of glowing bowls surrounded the shivering girl, along with three ravens. Marie hurried over and lowered herself to her knees. She touched Sophie''s forehead and felt cold, damp skin. Next she lifted the towel and hissed through her teeth. "You left her wet clothes on?" Marie demanded of the birds. "Do you know nothing?" "We aren''t allow-" "Send us to Sophie''s room. Now!" ¡°We can help her bett-¡± ¡°You fixed my arm well enough, but she¡¯ll die if you leave her wet. Trust me, I¡¯ve done this before,¡± she growled. The birds hopped back. "Stand back, please." Marie tossed the damp towel away, pushing herself to her feet. Sophie''s eyelids fluttered. "No, I¡­ the drapes," she whined, shivering violently. Marie was so alarmed she barely felt the transportation. Once in Sophie''s room, she lifted the girl onto her bed and untied her top. "Nop!" The bird appeared. "What do you need?" "A warm blanket," she said, pleased with Nop¡¯s efficiency. "Of course; I''ll bring you one." The bird hopped once, then flew out the door. Marie pulled all Sophie''s clothes off and tossed them to the ground. She got a dry towel from the bathroom and was rubbing the girl''s shaking limbs when Nop returned, dragging a blanket. "Thank you," Marie said, taking it. To her surprise it was quite heavy on top of being very warm. "Perfect." She laid the blanket out on the bed and rolled Sophie onto it. Then she pulled the long end over and tucked it under the girl, cocooning her. "Is there a way to quickly dry hair?" she asked, undoing Sophie''s braid. "Yes, but I believe one of the heating bowls would be better," Nop said. Marie shot Nop a glare. "I don''t give a damn what you believe." The bird took a step back. "Understood." She flew off. Marie finished with the braid and flicked Sophie in the face. "Sophie. Girl. Who am I?" Sophie opened her eyes, dilated pupils focusing with difficulty. "...Abigail?" she tried weakly. "No." Marie rubbed her hand up and down Sophie''s spine, finally feeling the shivers subsiding. "Try again." "But¡­ I don''t like¡­" She didn''t finish the sentence. Nop came back with a small device. "Hair dryer. The button turns on a fan. It''ll take a few seconds for the air to warm up." "Thank you," Marie repeated, taking the device. She turned it on. "Can you hold it here while I change my clothes?" "Of course," Nop said, hopping into place. Marie thanked her again, walking quickly to the bathroom. 15 - Intis Watcher Peter waited next to Razan on the couch. Nop was still, listening to something only she could hear. Finally she hopped, turning towards them. "They''ve decided to not penalize you for having half your group bail, as both were legitimately in need of medical assistance," she announced. "Also they bailed with just under half an hour left. If it had been over half an hour, that would have affected the decision." "So all our shells count?" Peter asked. "Yes. The number of points your team collected was¡­ 208. In the ranking, that currently puts you¡­ first! There are three teams who haven''t been entered yet, but you''re first!" Razan clapped his hands, leaning back. "Very nice!" Peter grinned. "Great! Unless those teams are taking longer because they have so many shells." "No," Nop said. "On one team a man is colorblind, and collected every shell he saw, not sure which ones counted. We''re still sorting through them. Another team brought in a large octopus to cook, and it is extremely unhappy to be here. It has destroyed two birds. The third team was simply the last team to return." "Who brought the octopus?" Razan asked. "Team 15, the Seabirds." "I might have to ask Keiko for a tentacle," Razan said. "Didn''t you bring four octopuses back?" Peter asked. Razan looked at him like he was crazy. "No, I brought squid." "Oh, sorry." He shrugged, thickening his accent. "I''m from a desert, I ain''t never seen squiggly things like that ''afore. Now a hognose an'' a rattlesnake, them I c''n differentiate. But slimy o''shun things, well, them be a mystery t'' me." Razan gave a deep, annoyed sigh. Peter grinned as Marie came out of Sophie''s room. Marie was wearing her fuzzy nightgown thing. She still held herself like someone in command, but she looked like a typical grandmother. "Any news on how we did?" she asked, watching them. "We might win," Razan answered. "There are three teams left to tally, but at the moment we are in first." Marie smiled. "Excellent." "How''s Sophie?" Peter asked. "She''ll be fine, no thanks to those idiots," she said, scowling briefly. "I''ve seen worse but only barely." "What happened?" he asked. "She got too cold. Doesn''t matter how hot the sun is, water can freeze you." "But¡­ none of us froze." "Sophie is the smallest in the group," Razan said. "She moves the fastest. She''s the youngest and isn''t used to pushing herself physically." Peter frowned. "She did just fine on the mountain." "We had rest on the mountain," Marie reminded him. "We had food and water. Those things make a difference." He couldn''t argue with that. "Well, I hope next week we get sent somewhere warm." "And dry," Razan added. Nop snickered. They looked at the bird. "Yes?" Marie asked, raising her eyebrows. "You''ll see Sunday," Nop told them. "All I can say is, your wishes will come true."
Sophie woke up starving. She also woke up naked, wrapped in a strange blanket. She sat up, checking if she was in her own room or not. It looked like hers; the blanket was the only thing she didn''t recognize. Rubbing the gunk out of her eyes, she tried to remember how she''d fallen asleep. No memories came. The last thing she remembered was the contest. Razan told her she was tired, and then¡­ Had she fallen asleep there? "Nop?" Sophie called, a yawn escaping when she opened her mouth. A section of the wall went up, and the bird hopped out. "Good morning!" "What day is it?" she asked. "It is 7:49, Saturday morning," Nop reported. "Thank you. How did I get here?" Nop sat next to her on the bed. "You fell unconscious during the contest. Razan bailed you, and shortly afterwards Marie bailed to take care of you. She removed your clothes and wrapped you in the blanket." Sophie looked at her in surprise. "Marie put me to bed?" "Yes. She was quite insistent. She stayed with you until you fell into a normal sleep." "Huh. I didn''t think she cared that much," Sophie muttered. "She requested I call her as soon as you woke up. Shall I call her now?" "Yes please." She moved to the edge of the bed and swung her feet to the floor. Every muscle felt stiff and sore, and her bones ached. She wanted to get her fuzzy nightgown on before Marie arrived, but wasn''t sure she could stand. Before she could attempt it, the bathroom door opened and Marie walked in. The older woman looked Sophie over critically. "What''s your name?" Marie asked, focusing on her eyes. "Sophie?" That didn''t please Marie. "Full name." "Sophia Elizabeth Cadbury." "There we are. What''s my name?" "Marie LeFleur." She nodded. "Where were you born?" "In a house." Marie lifted an eyebrow but moved on. "What''s the month and year?" "March 1850. Or is it April already? I haven''t been keeping track of the date," Sophie admitted. Finally Marie smiled. "Your mind''s all here again, that''s good," she said. "Can you stand?" "I was about to try," Sophie said. She clutched the blanket and pushed herself up. "Ow." "Any sharp pain?" Marie asked. "No, I''m just sore all over."This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "That''s to be expected. Not in top form myself," she said. "Drop the blanket, let me see you." Sophie shrank slightly. "No?" "Don''t be shy, I need to check for damage. I won''t touch you." "I''m fine," Sophie said weakly. Marie gave her a flat look. "You nearly died yesterday. I''m the one who got your clothes off to make sure you didn''t, meaning I''ve already seen what''s under there. It don''t impress me." Extremely reluctantly, Sophie turned and put the blanket on her bed. She blushed, turning to face Marie again. Marie looked her over quickly. "Lift your arms all the way up. Deep breath. Let it out. Any sharp pain from that?" "No." "Good. Turn. Stop. Lower your arms. Lift your hair. Wobble your head. Any pain there?" "Slight headache, but I think that''s because I''m thirsty," Sophie reported. "Nothing unusual?" Marie asked. "No, normal headache." "That''s fine then. Let me see your hands." Sophie turned back towards her, holding her hands out. Marie squinted at her fingernails. "Normal color." She knelt down and squinted at Sophie''s feet. "You have marks around your right ankle. Shake your foot a bit." "Oh, that''s where I was bitten by a shark," Sophie said, lifting her foot and shaking it. "It''s sore but no sharp pain." Marie stood up, then reached over and handed Sophie the blanket. "You got bit by a shark?" "It startled me, and I kicked it. Razan pulled it off," she said, wrapping the heavy blanket around herself again. "I see," Marie said, eyebrows raised. "Well, your mind''s straight, your speech is clear, no sharp pains, fingernails are good, eyes are normal, and no unexplained markings. I give you a clean bill of health." Sophie smiled. "Thank you. Were you a doctor?" Marie snorted. "I''m a black woman. I''d have a better chance at being named governor of Barbados than becoming a doctor. But I''ve helped enough of them to learn the basics. I don''t know why fingernails turning blue is bad, only that it is." "Well¡­ I''m glad you know. I''m not sure how I''d feel about getting a medical examination from a raven," Sophie said. "Don''t tell anyone, but you''re far more useful than the men in this group," Marie said. "They''re good at following orders, but Peter lacks initiative and Razan lacks motivation. If either of them had fainted I would have left them to the birds. But you I need." Sophie sat down. "I''m¡­ needed?" No one had ever told her that before. Her father barely acknowledged her, her mother found her tiring, her sisters thought she was weird, and everyone else called her unique. "Of course," Marie said casually, sitting next to her on the bed. "You collected the most shells out of any individual yesterday. They told us that. And on the mountain last week, you were the only one able to scale the cliffs without help. Without you Razan would still be up there, glued to the rock where he nearly fell, and our team would have come in dead last. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Your strengths happen to be extremely helpful to me. I want you in my group. I have to make sure you''re all right." Sophie was sore and tired and hungry. That''s why she burst into tears and hugged Marie. It certainly wasn''t because that was the first time in her life she''d been called wanted, or told she had strengths. "You''ll be fine, girl," Marie told her softly, rubbing her back. "You''ll be fine¡­"
Razan watched the pictures on the wall. They showed people''s fights in the water and other interesting things. One person swam out past the reef and was attacked by a sailfish. Another accidentally let her fresh airbag go when changing them, and after failing to grab it for a few seconds had to bail. Razan studied everything. He took note of who was strong, who was fast, and who was smart. The rostari didn''t put anyone in harm''s way, but they didn''t offer help to those who wandered into it, either. Common sense seemed to be the greatest asset here. People came and went from the area. Most were more interested in seeing themselves than others, but a few stayed. One person who stayed was a stunningly beautiful woman in a cream dress with bright orange embroidery. She had a notebook, and was occasionally writing things down. Razan debated getting a notebook. Halfway through the afternoon, Marie walked over and sat next to him. "Learning a lot?" she asked. "Yes. There are two groups with yellow and grey colors. The Bees are competent. The other group, who attacked you and Peter, are¡­ less so." "Maybe they were just at a disadvantage because of the water," Marie suggested. "Perhaps." The beautiful woman heard them, and turned in their direction. "Wasps," she said, smiling apologetically. "The yellow and grey teams are the Bees and the Wasps." "Thank you," Marie said, nodding. The woman got up and walked over. "The Wasps mostly do things for fun. They don''t take contests seriously. They''re nice. The Bees take everything too seriously, and aren''t nice." Marie looked her over, then held out a hand. "Marie, leader of the Drifters. Nice to meet you." "Oh!" The woman fumbled with her notebook, stuffing it into a pocket. She took Marie''s hand with both of hers and shook it, her bright gold eyes sparkling. "Innoka. I''m in the Foxes." Razan bowed, then held out a hand as well. "Razan." She gave him a strong handshake, her smile making a single dimple appear. "We- My team got here last year. You replaced us as the newest team. That''s why I''m still studying. This is the first truly underwater event in a while." "How would you feel about selling your notebook?" Marie asked. Innoka shook her head, pulling the notebook out. "It wouldn''t do you any good." She opened it, revealing words in a language Razan had no chance of guessing. "If you want me to read it to you, I can do that." Marie glanced at Razan. "I hereby name you Information Gatherer. Buy the girl dinner and go over her notes." Razan bowed, trying to hide his joy. "Yes, ma''am." Innoka smiled again. "Dinner wouldn¡¯t work. The review is still going on, and later there''s the ranking announcement," she said. "But tomorrow we could meet up and discuss things without worrying about time." Marie gave a curt nod. "Very well. Razan, tomorrow buy Innoka lunch and learn all you can from her." "Yes, ma''am." Innoka laughed softly, brushing a strand of long black hair behind an ear. "I''ll go to your area, then? We''re neighbors." "That would be perfect," he said. "Perfect," she echoed. "I look forward to it." She nodded to them and went back to her seat. "You owe me, samurai," Marie said under her breath. He looked at her, trying to portray innocent ignorance. She raised her eyebrows. "You''ve spent the past half hour watching her rather than the wall." He sighed. "How obvious was it?" "Well you weren''t drooling, but every time she moved you took notice. So you''re better than Peter." He grinned. "If I were as obvious as Peter I''d ask you kill me now." She patted his shoulder, getting to her feet. "You wouldn''t have had to ask."
Sophie watched the wall as an announcer talked about the contest. "In fourth place we have: the Diamonds!" The picture on the wall changed to a team dressed in a very light blue and cream. "They didn''t get into any epic battles, but their sharp eyes helped them find every shell they passed!" It showed a series of pictures of the team grabbing shells. "Getting into the top three now," the announcer said. "In third place are the Stars!" A handful of people clapped, and Sophie joined them as Rani appeared on the wall, ripping a bag off a man''s belt. "They didn''t find many shells on their own, but this group of wild fighters stole more than enough to make up for it!" The pictures changed, slower than before, showing each of the Stars fighting or winning a battle. It showed all four of them twice before the announcer moved on. Sophie held her breath. They hadn''t been announced yet. Drifters were either first or second place. "In second place¡­" The picture changed to show the Seabirds on their platform, and more people clapped. "...The Seabirds! No one is surprised this team did well. As has been said before, they knew what they were about when they chose that name." This time the pictures that flashed on the wall all had blood in them. "Who can compete with this? Well, turns out one team can!" Sophie grabbed Marie and Peter''s hands. This was it. "In first place, for only their second contest, are the Drifters!" The crowd around them clapped, and a few people cheered. Sophie bounced in place as she and Razan appeared on the wall. "That''s right! This new team isn''t playing around! They''ve got speed. They''ve got sharp eyes. They''ve definitely got fighting experience. And they aren''t afraid of anything!" The pictures showed Marie, Razan, and Peter winning fights, then finished with Sophie kicking a shark. It cut off just before the shark turned and chomped down on her foot, which she appreciated. There were a few closing words, with a few random pictures to accompany them, but Sophie couldn''t focus on that. She was too excited. Nothing in her life had ever been this exciting. "Are you all right, girl?" Marie asked, her amused voice cutting through the parade in Sophie''s mind. "We won!" Sophie told her unnecessarily, then tackled her in a hug. Marie patted her on the back. Sophie let go of Marie and spun around to hug Peter. He took half a step back to steady himself when she crashed into him, laughing. She released him after a moment and turned to Razan. "No," he said flatly. Thankfully Rani came running up, so Sophie hugged her instead. "Hey, not bad!" Rani laughed, hugging her back. "We have to get something to celebrate." "Yeah, congrats on getting third!" Sophie said, releasing her friend from the hug. The Seabirds walked up to the group, Grace in the lead. She held out her hand to Peter, grinning. "I should have let those Wasps take you," she said. "Lesson learned. We''ll win next time." "Next time, absolutely," Peter agreed, giving her a firm handshake. Marie and Fael exchanged congratulations as Louis and Ebba wandered over. Rani tugged on Sophie''s arm. "Everyone on the ship is going to talk to Marie now. Let''s get out of the crowd." Sophie nodded, took a step, and stopped. She debated giving Razan a surprise hug, but decided against it. Instead she followed Rani to the food area. 16 - Intis Watcher Inti''s Watcher "Our last two contests were cold and wet," Nop said. "This week we have something different planned! Your task, if you choose to join, will be to survive twenty-four hours in the Sahara Desert!" "Wonderful," Marie said flatly. Peter and Razan looked much more enthusiastic than she was. "We''re taking you back to the Azalay Trade Route," Nop continued. "We''ll drop everyone off, spaced evenly apart, with supply pads between you. Get to a pad and either kindly share supplies or guard them with your life. If multiple teams survive the whole period, there will be multiple first-place winners. Some gear will be provided, but most of what you need will be on the pads. Let us know by tonight if you''re joining!" "We''re joining," Peter said immediately. Marie raised her eyebrows at him. "We are?" He looked at her with excitement in his eyes. "This is desert survival. That''s been a requirement in every job I''ve ever had! You know the ocean, but trust me when I say I know the desert." "I''d like to visit the Sahara," Sophie said. "And I like the idea of being on the planet for a full day." Marie turned to Razan. "Thoughts?" "There are no deserts in Japan," he said. "Testing myself in a new environment would be good. Enlightening." She turned back to Nop. "Very well. We''ll join." Peter jumped to his feet, smiling. "Captain: allow me to make the preparations." "Granted," she said, tilting her head. "Thank you. That would include clothes; will you all allow me to get outfits for you?" "Yes," Marie said. "I don''t know why, but I feel you are trustworthy in this," Razan decided. Sophie batted her eyelashes. "Only if you get something that makes me look good." Peter smiled. "Come with me and give your opinion, then." "That sounds perfect," she said. He bowed with a flourish, and they walked to the common area. Marie waited for the door to close behind them before turning to Razan. "Have you adjusted your translator to alert you to a change in language?" He paused, caught off-guard by the question. "No; should I?" She looked back at the door. "I have. So has Peter. That''s the first time he''s spoken Spanish in front of Sophie." "What does that mean?" Razan asked. "It means he''s so excited about this he forgot his shame."
Peter scrolled through the available boots. "The problem is we''ll be there all night as well as all day," he said. "Deserts get cold at night, so if we only come prepared for extreme heat we''ll freeze." Sophie nodded studiously. "It''s a careful balancing act between extremes," he said, pausing on leather boots. "The other problem is, both our colors are fairly dark. Having light-colored clothes would be best." "The red-orange looks lighter than the blue-green, should we get everything in that color?" "If we can. Do these look good for you?" He moved, letting her fully see the screen. She narrowed her eyes at them, then nodded. "Those will do." "Excellent." He bought them. "Everyone has belts, right?" "Well, Marie and I do. Razan doesn''t wear real belts," Sophie said. Peter checked to make sure he was wearing a belt. He was. He smiled, deciding to not ask why she''d implied he didn''t have one. "That settles that. Now for clothes." "Should I get a poncho?" Sophie asked. "They seem very versatile." Peter hesitated. The idea of her in a poncho felt¡­ wrong. Somehow. In a way he couldn''t explain. "No," he finally said. "You won''t need one. I have a better idea." "Better?" she asked. He nodded. "You can bring the coat you got for the mountain. But under that you need a light shirt." She agreed as he scrolled through the linen shirts. He had one, unused, from the last competition. Marie''s shirt from that competition would also work just fine. That left Sophie and Razan in need of shirts. They quickly found two that were perfect and bought them. "Will we need some sort of camouflage?" Sophie asked. "For what?" "If we''re going to a trade route, won''t there be people?" Peter hadn''t thought of that. He looked around. "Nop, are you here?" A part of the wall went up, and a raven hopped out. "Yes?" Sophie took a step towards her. "Will there be people in the desert? Will we have to hide from them?" "No," Nop answered. The bird settled down. "A few years ago we asked one of the traders to join our games. He declined, but was willing to help us with other things. One of those things being information. He said no one is stupid enough to be in the desert this time of year." Peter frowned. "Stupid enough? Must get extremely hot, then." "Yes, but the issue is more finding water," Nop said. "There''s none for days." "None for days¡­ I presume that means brush is sparse?" "There is almost no brush." "Almost none?" He smiled. "Great!" "Why is that great?" Sophie asked. "It means we don''t have to worry about being scratched by cacti," he said. "Forget denim, we can get the lightest fabric there is and be fine." He found the menu for pants and scrolled through.
Razan wrote quickly, listening to everything Innoka said. She had a full page of notes for every team, and all of it seemed vital. Names, approximate ages, areas of origin, fighting styles, temperaments, everything. She¡¯d studied these people well.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He asked a few questions, but mostly listened. She was smart and spoke clearly. He presumed that if he could read her language, he¡¯d see her handwriting was neat and precise. ¡°That brings us to Group 35, the Foxes,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°Everyone in that group is highly intelligent, and an expert in all types of combat.¡± Razan nodded seriously, turning his page and carefully writing something. Innoka watched him, her smile growing. One of her canines was twisted and stuck out a bit; it was always the first tooth that showed when she smiled, and it made her look like a cat. ¡°What did you write?¡± she asked when he was done. ¡°What you said,¡± he told her innocently, motioning to the words. ¡°Group 35, Foxes, falsely believe they are the best at everything.¡± She laughed. ¡°That¡¯s actually quite kind. Thank you for not insulting us.¡± He bowed slightly, unable to keep a small smile from his face. ¡°I¡¯ll only give you real information about my group if you give me information about yours first,¡± Innoka said. ¡°That is fair,¡± Razan decided. She flipped the page over. ¡°Here¡¯s what I have already. Group 37: Drifters. Colors: blue-green and red-orange. Leader: Marie. Experienced fighter. You¡¯re Razan. And that¡¯s all. You¡¯ve won fights, but I didn¡¯t know if I should put that you¡¯re experienced. And I have no idea what to say about that snowball fight between the other two.¡± ¡°Simple. Sophie is an over energetic idiot, and Peter is infatuated with her,¡± Razan said flatly. Innoka paused. ¡°Do you not like them?¡± Razan thought that over. ¡°I respect them. They¡¯re good teammates. Peter, when away from Sophie, I¡¯d consider a friend. Sophie¡­ I see flashes of a competent, responsible person in there, but she hides it if someone more responsible is around.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± Innoka said, writing a few words. He watched her. ¡°What did you write?¡± ¡°You treat Sophie like a little sister.¡± Razan was about to object, but stopped. ¡°In a way.¡± ¡°Do you have sisters?¡± she asked. ¡°Yes. One older and two younger. I¡¯ll admit I don¡¯t know them as well as I should,¡± he said. ¡°Do you have siblings?¡± ¡°I¡¯m the youngest of seven,¡± Innoka said. ¡°But I¡¯m interviewing you first. Tell me about Marie. Where¡¯s she from? How old is she?¡± ¡°She¡¯s from the sea. It would be rude to state her age without her permission.¡± Innoka laughed, writing. ¡°I¡¯ll ask her directly, then. Other than experienced fighter, should I know anything about her?¡± ¡°She knows when people are lying,¡± he said. ¡°When she looks into your eyes it¡¯s like she¡¯s reading all your secrets.¡± ¡°Very interesting.¡± She wrote for a few seconds. ¡°Peter?¡± ¡°He¡¯s from Texas, is twenty-three, was a soldier, and I get the sense he and Marie knew each other somehow.¡± Innoka wrote more slowly, growing thoughtful. ¡°Is he a good fighter?¡± ¡°He¡¯s afraid of pain. He says he¡¯s better with ranged weapons, and I haven¡¯t seen him with those yet.¡± Razan watched her. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not important here. My people have had bad experiences with¡­ U.S. soldiers.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Forgive me for not knowing anything about the world outside Japan.¡± She sighed, her gold eyes flashing. ¡°They¡¯re invaders. My people belong to the land. They come in and take whatever they like without thinking of the future. Without respect for the animals or plants. And when we tell them to stop, to respect the land, they call us stupid and kill us.¡± Razan frowned. ¡°If they disrespect the local spirits, surely their deaths will be slow and painful.¡± ¡°Well, yes, many of them have died traveling across our-¡± She stopped, noticing something. ¡°You know about the spirits?¡± ¡°I know the ones of my land,¡± he said. ¡°They probably aren¡¯t the same as yours. I¡¯ve been worried since getting here about space spirits, but my fellow samurai only pay their respects to the moon goddess. Do you know of any space spirits?¡± Innoka smiled again. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to find out about any, but most people laugh when I ask. The rostari aren¡¯t any help. I asked my father to pay respect to the sky people on my behalf, and I just hope that¡¯s enough.¡± ¡°Is your father a monk?¡± ¡°Monk?¡± she asked, confused. ¡°Holy man?¡± ¡°Oh, no, he¡¯s just the head of my family.¡± ¡°Pity. I would have asked you to request he pray for me, too.¡± She nodded. ¡°I can do that. And if you find one of your monk to pray for you, have him pray for me. Having more spirits watching out for us can only be good.¡± He bowed. ¡°I shall ask my father to find one for us in my next letter home.¡±
Sophie let herself out of her room. Sneaking out was becoming a habit. She went to the long corridor and checked for movement. Far to the north, a square machine rolled out of sight. Other than that, nothing. She nodded to herself, walking soundlessly around to Peter''s room. After discussing stealth with Rani, Sophie had been convinced to go barefoot. All shoes had some sort of disadvantage. ¡­At least according to Rani. Sophie wanted to look through the options one more time, but for now learning to do things barefoot was good. Her mother would kill her, but she enjoyed the freedom of not wearing shoes. She got to Peter''s room, turned the dial all the way to the right, and hit the button. The wall went up, a cool breeze moving with it. Peter didn''t have a desk or table. The only furniture he''d asked for was a chest, which sat at the foot of his bed. Marie had a similar chest, but hers had a curved top. She''d also put it at the foot of her bed, and Sophie wondered if there was a reason for keeping a chest there. She would have to ask. Peter slept on his stomach, limbs hanging off the sides of the bed. Sophie watched him for a few seconds, wondering how he could breathe with his face in a pillow. He used his old poncho as a second blanket, stretched out over him. His new poncho was folded neatly on the chest. Sophie tapped her chin, debating. Taking the new poncho would be easy. Laughably easy. Too easy. She could do better. She reached out, touching the fringed hem of Peter''s old poncho. Very slowly, she pulled it off the bed. Peter stirred in his sleep. She hadn''t seen him do that before. Not wanting him to wake up from the change in temperature, Sophie unfolded his new poncho and laid it over him. An idea struck her as she stepped back. Almost laughing, she folded up his old poncho and left it where the new one had been. Feeling unreasonably clever, Sophie went back to the corridor and closed the wall.
Razan woke up at some absurd hour of the night, aware he wasn''t alone. He opened his eyes halfway, keeping his breathing steady. Sophie was moving silently through his room, looking at everything with open curiosity. Her fingers trailed absently along his bed as she moved around it. She noticed his swords on their stand and reached out, stepping towards them. "Touch my katana and I will run you through with it," Razan snapped. Sophie squeaked, spinning around. "With a fright like that you won''t have to. I didn''t notice you wake up at all." He sat up. "I''ll take that as a compliment. Now get out." She smiled brightly, setting herself down in his chair. "You must be a very light sleeper. Marie stirred a bit but didn''t wake. I could drive a herd of elephants through Peter''s room and he''d be unaware." "You stole from Marie?" he asked, resigning himself to conversation. "I''m not that much of an idiot," Sophie said, offended. "I left something in her room. Was going to leave something here, but it''s no fun if you know I did it. Do you always sleep naked?" "If it offends you, feel free to leave," Razan said, not adjusting the sheet around him. "There is a door there, a vent, another door-" "Can''t use the bathroom door," Sophie said seriously. "From inside, the doors only open to the person who owns the adjoining room. And I can¡¯t reach the vent without help." "Fascinating. Not that I care, but how did you get in?" He thought it over as she grinned. "Actually I do care. If I knew, I could stop you from doing it again." "No you can''t, it''s not allowed to lock wall panels," she said smugly. He frowned. "You came in through the wall?" "Magicians and thieves must never reveal their ways," she said, leaning back. "So you aren''t opening the door to the group area¡­ Can you get to anyone''s room? In the whole ship?" For once she hesitated. "Anyone on this side, at least. The corridor from the odd numbered areas to the even numbered areas is quite busy. If I were to get caught anywhere, it''d be there." Razan grinned. "How would you like to visit Group 1''s area?" "Group- The Masks? They''re never out of their area. I have no idea what their sleep schedules are like. It''s too dangerous." "And here I thought you were observant," he mocked, tilting his head. "They always leave on Saturday evening to watch the report, the same as everyone else. That''s at least an hour where we know they won''t be in their area." Sophie sat forwards, very serious. "You''re that curious about them?" "You aren''t?" She frowned, calculating. "If there''s some sort of communication device I''ll do it. If you stand by their door and tell me they''re all out, that''s the only way I''ll go in. And I need a disguise." "Why do you need a disguise?" "I don''t want to be recognized," she said. He shook his head. "If the rostari see you walking around the Mask''s rooms, they can see you putting on a disguise. You don¡¯t need one." "Fine," she grumbled. "You''re right, but I don''t like it. Should I take anything, or just look?" "Just look," he said. "At least the first time. Once we know our enemy we can decide what to do." "I suppose that''s logical," she said, and yawned. "My, it''s getting late. I shall see you tomorrow." She got up, waved, and strolled out his door. 17 - Intis Watcher Inti''s Watcher Peter finished breakfast, still debating thanking Sophie for not taking his poncho. He''d been amused at the switch after the initial panic had passed. But bringing it up might encourage her to do it again. Marie came into the area with a chalkboard. She put it on the table, calling Sophie and Razan over. "All right," she said, sitting down. "We''re starting to get settled. Routines are being created. We need a schedule." Razan nodded seriously, sliding into his chair. Sophie grumbled the word, slumping in her chair. ¡°Schedule for what?¡± Peter asked. ¡°Mostly exercise,¡± Marie answered. ¡°There isn¡¯t much organic need for exercise here. If we only exert ourselves four times a month we¡¯ll grow weak. We need to stay strong.¡± ¡°Will that include fighting?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Yes,¡± Marie said. ¡°You need to learn the basics at least.¡± She made a grid on the chalkboard. ¡°We usually begin dinner at six in the evening, and finish breakfast at eight in the morning. I won¡¯t schedule anything between those times. Lunch is between noon and one, so it needs to remain free. Fridays and Saturdays might be partially or wholly taken up by contests, so nothing there. Sunday morning we all need to be here until we¡¯ve decided if we¡¯re joining the contest or not, so I¡¯ll schedule that for all morning. Anything else?¡± ¡°The report?¡± Sophie asked. Marie shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s after six. It isn¡¯t necessary for us to be there, so I won¡¯t put it in.¡± ¡°I believe that¡¯s all,¡± Razan nodded. ¡°Good. Sophie, I¡¯ve seen you on that swing in the climbing room enough times to know you regularly climb up. Do you just go there and back, or do you climb around?¡± ¡°We climb around,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Rani and I race across the ceiling sometimes, and when other people come in we climb with them.¡± ¡°Good. Razan, both times I¡¯ve gone into the sparring room you were having tea. Do you fight there, too?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, bowing slightly. ¡°We train our bodies in the morning and our minds in the afternoon.¡± ¡°Not sure what that means, but I don¡¯t care enough to ask,¡± Marie decided. ¡°I¡¯ve mostly been following Ebba on her routines. Peter, what have you been doing?¡± Peter shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. ¡°Nothing. Just¡­ sleeping.¡± Marie looked him in the eye, her gaze piercing his soul. She knew everything, and he hated it. ¡°Last week I swam a lot,¡± he tried, smiling apologetically. ¡°Right,¡± she said, looking at the chalkboard. ¡°Razan, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine. Sophie, one afternoon a week I want you and Peter to spar. Learn how to hold a weapon, any weapon. Rani can help, if she wishes.¡± ¡°Should we start today? Monday afternoon?¡± Sophie suggested. Peter nodded. ¡°That works.¡± Marie wrote it in. ¡°Peter, I¡¯ll have you join Louis and Ebba and I for a few things. Other than that, it seems important we learn endurance. There¡¯s a room here where the floor constantly moves at a walking pace. I want everyone to spend all of every Tuesday afternoon in there. From one until six. Understood?¡± ¡°Five hours of walking?¡± Sophie squeaked. ¡°That seems a bit excessive,¡± Razan agreed. Peter looked at him. ¡°We spent longer than that on the mountain. And chances are we¡¯ll have to walk for several hours this week.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Marie nodded. ¡°We can take breaks, but I just want to make sure we can do this week after week. If ever a week comes when we can¡¯t, I want it to be because we¡¯re sick. Not because we¡¯re fat and lazy.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Sophie grumbled. Razan still looked undecided. ¡°It will become unbearably boring.¡± ¡°Nop said she can show us old contests as we walk,¡± Marie told him. ¡°We can use the time to train both bodies and minds.¡± He nodded, satisfied. ¡°Good,¡± Marie said again. She wrote the plan in. ¡°I¡¯ll put this in the kitchen so we don¡¯t forget. Razan, Sophie, you¡¯re dismissed. Peter, with me.¡± She picked up the board and went to her room. Peter sighed, following. He sat on a chair, resigned, as she perched on her sea chest. ¡°Are you sick?¡± she asked in Spanish, watching him carefully. ¡°Probably,¡± he shrugged, switching to that language as well. ¡°I¡¯m eating enough here to not feel hungry but I¡¯m still starving. In the¡­ needing way.¡± ¡°I know what you mean,¡± she said. ¡°Any idea what you lack?¡± ¡°No; most I know is it isn¡¯t rickets or scurvy.¡± He smiled sheepishly. ¡°When¡­ When I eat Mexican food I feel fine. I starve on American food. It¡¯s always been like that.¡± She watched him thoughtfully. ¡°Could it be an allergy?¡± He immediately switched into English. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m allergic to anythin¡¯ that ain¡¯t my mama¡¯s cookin¡¯.¡± Marie grinned appreciatively. ¡°Just for that¡­ Nop!¡± A bird hopped out of the wall. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Is there a way to test Peter for allergies or worms?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have-¡± ¡°Hush, boy.¡± Nop nodded. ¡°We removed all intestinal parasites when you arrived. We can scan again if you wish. For allergies it¡¯s a bit more complicated, and will require you to go to a special room. It would be faster if you suspected what you were allergic to.¡± ¡°Something Americans cook with that Mexicans don¡¯t,¡± Marie said. ¡°Take Peter and test him, please.¡± The bird paused. ¡°That would require Peter¡¯s consent.¡± ¡°I consent,¡± Peter said. ¡°And I do it before I¡¯m ordered to.¡± Marie smiled. ¡°Good lad.¡±
Razan frowned at the clothes Peter had bought for him. They were¡­ not what he would have chosen. He pulled on the loose, blue-green trousers and tightened their drawstring around his waist. The fabric almost felt like paper. Next he slid his arms through a red-orange Chinese-style shirt with blue-green trim. This fabric felt closer to silk. Peter had told him to use the belt, boots and coat from their first contest, so Razan had no complaints for those. That left¡­ the hat. He hated hats. They made his head itchy. He''d worn a proper jingasa when needed, but this was a common sugegasa. Razan decided to ask Marie if wearing it was required. He put on his belt and went to the group area. The rostari were increasing the temperature in preparation for the contest, so he was fine in light clothes. Marie and Peter were playing their card game at the table. Razan kept debating asking to be taught the rules, but so far had decided not to. "Does everything fit?" Peter asked, seeing him. "It does," Razan said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for making the preparations." "Any time," Peter said, putting two cards on the table.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Marie looked at Razan. "I''ve made truces for this contest with the Windwards, Stars, Foxes, and Wasps. It''s allowed to have truces with five groups, but I''ve decided to only make four unless we feel we need the help. Matter of pride." "I say we should take all the help we''re allowed, always," Peter said softly. "And that''s the difference between us," Marie said, laying two cards over his. She lifted half the deck. "What does a truce entail for this contest?" Razan asked, watching Peter turn over the top card. Marie slid her half of the deck under the other. "That is not a good card¡­ Four." She glanced at Razan as they played. "There are two groups per supply pad. If we happen to be paired with a group we have a truce with, whoever gets to the pad first may claim it without a fight. They''ll give the other team their fair share of supplies, then send them off to find a different area to claim." "I see," Razan said thoughtfully. "So if we claim a supply area, there may be multiple groups who try to take it from us." "Exactly. Lydia said their strategy will be to not claim an area at all, but to go around taking out as many people as possible. The winning groups will have all four people survive a full day, so if they cut a group down to three people, that group has already lost." "Clever," Razan said. "Will we do something similar?" "It''ll depend on the supplies and if we get to our pad first," Peter said, putting his last card on the table and moving a peg. "If there¡¯s no defenses, I''d rather not stay on one." Razan nodded. ¡°Supplies are good but defense is vital.¡± ¡°Precisely,¡± Marie said. ¡°We¡¯ve prepared all we can; I like our odds.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say that yet,¡± Peter warned. ¡°The desert might kill us all by itself.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why our desert expert is leading this time,¡± she countered. ¡°Now count your cards before I die of old age.¡± ¡°It¡¯s my crib, you count first.¡± She frowned. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Razan went to make tea, leaving them to their game.
Marie found Louis and Ebba in the shooting range. The bullets provided by the rostari were soft and full of paint, but they served their purpose. ¡°Didn¡¯t you practice yesterday?¡± she asked, walking up to them. ¡°Ranged attacks are good for this contest,¡± Louis said. Marie took one of his pistols and aimed, using his lane. ¡°This one shoots left, aye?¡± He nodded, reloading the rest of them. ¡°And low.¡± ¡°I was meaning to ask, is shooting people allowed? I assume so, as you convinced me to buy a rifle, but just to be certain¡­¡± She pulled the trigger. Paint hit the yellow ring around the center of her target. ¡°Not with lead,¡± Ebba said, offering Marie one of her small revolvers. ¡°Paint balls are used in tournaments. The rules are complicated but fair. Outside of them, the only rule is if someone gets hit three times they¡¯re transported away.¡± ¡°Three times?¡± Marie echoed, taking aim. ¡°Aye,¡± Louis said, reloading the pistol she¡¯d used. ¡°In tournaments, if you¡¯re hit twice in a limb, that limb is considered unusable. Twice in the torso and you¡¯re dead. Once in the head and you¡¯re dead. Three times at all and you¡¯re dead.¡± Marie pulled the trigger. ¡°Good to know.¡± Some paint hit the white center, but most was in the yellow. She frowned, and a ball hit the exact center of her target. She turned, eyebrows raised at Ebba. ¡°Only the killshot counts,¡± the Swedish woman said, smirking. Louis put his hands together in the praying position. ¡°May I set up a private duel between you? Please? I would love to watch you-¡± Marie and Ebba shot him in the chest. He brushed paint off his shirt, looking like a puppy denied a treat. ¡°That does hurt, you know¡­¡± ¡°Hush,¡± Marie ordered, turning back to the targets. ¡°Corpses don¡¯t speak,¡± Ebba added. Marie smiled, using an English phrase. ¡°Dead men tell no tales.¡± Ebba glanced at her. ¡°Is that a common saying? Louis used to say it all the time, and thought it was funny.¡± ¡°It¡¯s common enough, but usually threatening.¡± Louis finished reloading and moved to the next lane. ¡°Yes, but remember, love: we¡¯re already dead.¡± ¡°Hmm, that does make it amus-¡± Marie stopped, looking at him. ¡°Which of us were you calling ¡®love¡¯?¡± He gave the room a winning smile. ¡°I said ¡®loves¡¯. Both of you. Equally.¡± Ebba shot him in the head.
Peter followed Marie to the shooting range after dinner. There were eight lanes; a man was on the far end with what looked like an atlatl for cannonballs. They watched him for a moment before claiming their own lanes. Peter put his crossbow on the table, requesting proper ammunition from the bird that had hopped up. Marie set her two pistols on the table, then another pistol, then a revolver, a slingshot, a throwing ax, two throwing stars, and then she pulled a full rifle out from under her jacket. She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Show me what you can do, cowboy.¡± ¡°Do you have any more weapons on you?¡± he asked in Spanish. She smirked, switching to that language as well. ¡°Only a dozen or so knives and daggers.¡± Peter picked up the slingshot. ¡°Are you saying I can¡¯t throw a dagger?¡± She pulled a dagger off her belt and placed it on the table. ¡°Impress me.¡± He put the slingshot down and picked up her dagger. ¡°We¡¯ll see if I can.¡± He tested the weight then tossed it up, letting it flip in the air before catching it. After looking it over he pulled his arm back and threw the dagger at his target. It bounced off. Marie shook her head as a hawk returned the dagger. ¡°I did throw it,¡± Peter said, flashing her a smile. ¡°Aye, that you did,¡± she agreed in English. He picked up the slingshot again, fit a ball of paint into it, aimed, and let the paint fly. It hit the exact center of the target. ¡°Much better,¡± Marie said. Peter nodded, deciding to try the rifle next. "Are these loaded?" "Yes." She watched him aim. "How did it go with Sophie?" Peter pulled the trigger. Paint hit the green ring. "She''s good at stealing things," he said, reloading. "In a few months she might make a passable assassin. But I wouldn''t put her in a fight for another year." Marie nodded slowly. "About what I suspected. Has she seduced you yet?" ¡°Not yet,¡± he shrugged, taking another shot. This time paint hit the center. Peter smiled, setting the rifle aside to pick up one of the pistols. It had an A engraved on the grip. "Do these shoot straight?" "No," she answered calmly, watching. He took aim. "Don''t tell me, I''ll figure it out¡­" Paint hit to the right of where he''d aimed, and a bit lower. He took aim again. "And how did it go with the allergy tests?" Marie asked. Paint hit the center of the target. "Captain, I was a soldier. If you want to distract me you''ll need to do better than that." She smiled. "I''m glad to hear it. But if I were trying to distract you, you''d be distracted. I''m just trying to hold a conversation." "Yes, ma''am," he said, picking up his crossbow. The bird had left him five paint-tipped bolts. "Apparently I can''t eat wheat, barley, or rye. Nop says she''ll get me grits for breakfast instead of bread." "That cuts out a decent number of alcohols," Marie pointed out. "I can live without beer and whiskey," Peter shrugged, aiming. "My pa made tequila; that''s all I need." His bolt went through the center of the target. "Can we move those further away?" "Can''t, I asked," she said. "I''ve only had tequila once. Was already so drunk I have no idea what it tastes like." "Sweet garbage on fire." Peter moved to Marie''s lane to shoot his target from an angle. "Ah. Same as everything else." "They say sailors love rum," he said, putting a bolt through the center of the target again. "No, it''s just cheapest and easy to find. Don''t particularly care for the stuff." Peter picked up the throwing ax and tested its weight. "Next time we win I''ll challenge you to a drinking competition." Marie laughed. "Deal."
Sophie peered into the pot Peter was stirring. He smiled faintly, plucking his hat off her head. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, smelling the grainy stuff. ¡°Grits,¡± he answered, fitting the hat over his hair. ¡°With egg yolk and butter.¡± ¡°Is grits porridge?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s similar but made with corn.¡± She watched his spoon. ¡°There are eggs that only have the yolk?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°How did you only get egg yolk?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°I separated it,¡± he said slowly, like it was obvious. ¡°How?¡± He gave her an odd look, then picked up an egg and cracked it over the sink. He juggled the yellow part back and forth between the shell halves a few times, letting the clear stuff drip down the drain. Finally he dropped the yolk into the pot, set the shells aside, and continued stirring. Sophie looked into the sink. ¡°How did you learn to do that?¡± ¡°Cooking was one of my jobs as a ranch hand,¡± he told her. ¡°I¡¯ve been making food since I was ten.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been working since you were ten?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been working since the day I was born,¡± he laughed. ¡°They didn¡¯t trust me with a skillet until I was ten.¡± She watched him, wondering how well he¡¯d get along with her brother. They were complete opposites, but she wanted to introduce Peter to her world. She wanted to take him to England and dance with him at every party. As he looked at her with his dark eyes she could imagine him in the finest of- ¡°Are you awake?¡± he asked, amused. Sophie blinked out of her daydream. ¡°Wish I wasn¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Maybe if you spent more time sleeping and less time stealing my things you wouldn¡¯t be as tired,¡± he said. ¡°Impossible,¡± she yawned. ¡°How else am I supposed to get your attention?¡± He turned off the stove, focusing on the pot for a few seconds before speaking. ¡°You already have it.¡± ¡°I do?¡± "Of course." Peter cautiously took her hand, turning towards her. Sophie''s mind was filled with a pink haze. Her heart raced. She shrugged, trying to act casual. "Good, I''m glad to know all my efforts have not been in vain. Razan said he''d murder me if I stole any of his things, and I don''t know how else to flirt with anyone." Peter looked conflicted. Sophie wondered if there were any nearby bridges she could throw herself off for saying something so stupid. She pulled her hand away, cheeks burning. "Not- Not that I''d want to flirt with him, just saying I couldn''t regardless, so it''s just as well I''m¡­ I¡­ Well¡­" Thankfully at that moment Marie came out of her room, eyes bleary and hair sticking out at odd angles. ¡°There¡¯d better be some of that for me, cowboy,¡± she grumbled, stumbling to the kitchen. ¡°Thief, why haven¡¯t you made tea yet?¡± Sophie filled the kettle with water as Peter assured Marie there was enough food for everyone. 18 - Intis Watcher Inti''s Watcher Razan walked. And walked. And continued walking. They¡¯d spent hours already in the room with the moving floor. He wished he could stop, but would rather die than be the first one to request a break. The wall showed past contests. For the first hour it''d been contests in deserts, but for the second Marie had requested it change to contests in oceans. At the three hour mark she''d asked for fighting contests. They were all interesting enough, but Razan''s aching muscles were distracting him. He no longer had the energy to care. And then he saw Innoka on the wall. She moved slowly through a forest, keeping low. Her long braid brushed the ground as she peered around a tree. The hawk then turned to focus on her prey, the same bald woman Razan had fought on the reef. She had her back to Innoka, stalking someone down a hill. She lifted her spear, preparing to throw it, and Innoka darted forwards. Innoka grabbed the butt of the spear, yanking it backwards as the other woman let go. The woman cried out in surprise and anger, spinning to punch Innoka in the face. Innoka ducked a bit too late and received a glancing blow. She dropped the spear. The bald woman continued punching, and Razan saw she had spiked rings on her fingers. He wondered why she hadn''t worn them in the water, then noticed they were connected. They probably restricted the movement of her fingers, which would make replacing air and opening a drawstring bag difficult. Innoka, meanwhile, was blocking the woman¡¯s strikes with a vambrace made out of what Razan chose to believe were dragon scales. In her other hand was a hatchet, which she was using to hack at the woman''s ribs. Razan watched, memorizing every movement. Both women knew what they were doing, but Innoka had an advantage in her vambrace. The other woman had only a breastplate. Suddenly the bald woman was covered in a blue glow and vanished. Innoka grinned, wiping blood off her face just before the picture changed to someone else. Razan immediately lost interest and felt tired again. He sighed, reminding himself to not slouch. "It''s been three and a half hours," Peter announced. "We should stop for a bit and drink some water." "Agreed," Razan said, walking to the small area of the room that didn''t move. "If you insist," Sophie said, following Razan. Marie followed them. "I was going to wait until we reached the end of the hour, but I suppose this is fine." "Thank you," Razan said, bowing slightly as he took a canteen off the wall where they''d left them earlier. He drained it in one go. "If anyone were to suggest stopping now I wouldn''t object," Sophie told them. "No," Marie said, taking a canteen. "We need endurance. If you can''t go on that''s one thing, but if you''re merely tired that''s expected." Razan put the canteen back. "You said we''d regret making you leader¡­" Marie grinned. "Aye, that I did. Now get back to walking, lazy mongrels." Sophie crossed her arms. "Excuse me, I am not a mongrel." "Likewise," Razan agreed. "My ancestors are all completely Japanese. There is no mixing in my blood." "Fine: get back to walking, ye lazy purebreds." "Thank you," Sophie said haughtily, stepping primly back onto the moving area. Razan bowed to Marie before following Sophie. Marie turned to Peter with raised eyebrows. "And you, cowboy? Mongrel?" He shrugged, finishing off his canteen. "No less than you are." Razan was a bit shocked, but Marie just laughed. "We''ll sleep well tonight," she said, stepping onto the moving part again. "We should buy extra food for dinner." "Yes, ma''am," Razan and Peter said in unison. Marie looked at Sophie. "Learn from them, girl." Sophie gave a very slight huff. "Yes, ma''am." "Good."
Sophie hung from the ceiling in the climbing room. "You''re sure nothing will go wrong?" "The padded floor now has five extra layers of padding," Rani told her. "There''s no way you can get hurt. Lose your fear. Drop." Sophie took a deep breath. She could jump from the swing and land just fine. This was only¡­ double that. She had to learn how to land. Rani had explained and demonstrated, now Sophie only lacked practice. And it was better to practice here than during a contest, where there wasn''t any padding. She took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and let go. The door to the room opened and someone shrieked just as Sophie hit the ground. She bounced a bit, letting her joints take the impact, and jumped to her feet. "Did you do that on purpose?" the woman who had shrieked asked, hurrying up to her. "Yes," Sophie answered, beaming. "I''m teaching her how to fall," Rani said, walking over. "Sophie, this is Innoka. Innoka, Sophie. I''ve been teaching Innoka how to not be afraid of heights." "Nice to meet you," Innoka said, smiling. "Sorry if I scared you, I saw you drop and presumed the worst." "Only a little," Sophie admitted. "And nice to meet you, too." She tilted her head. "I thought you were Japanese." "No, I''m Siksika. Why did you think I was Japanese?" Innoka asked. Sophie hesitated, then grinned. "Razan likes you. So far the only people he''s willingly talked to are us and other Japanese." Rani laughed as Innoka smiled. "In what way does he like me?" "In the way that makes him write poems about your eyes," she answered.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Innoka looked thoughtful. "Are they good poems? If they''re bad poems I might have to never speak to him again." Rani nodded. "Absolutely. A man who can write good poetry is worth catching. Bad poetry and he''ll be single for the rest of his life." "Alas, I do not know," Sophie admitted. "They''re in Japanese and he refuses to read them to me." "I''ll have to ask him to read them to me, then," Innoka decided. "If they''re about my eyes he has to." "You do have beautiful eyes," Rani said. "I''m sure many men have written poems about them." Innoka grinned smugly. "At least fifty. I''ve lost count. After a while they all sound the same." Sophie giggled. "I should write a poem about Razan''s eyes. It would annoy him immensely." "What color are they?" Rani asked. "They¡­ I''m not sure," she admitted. "Brown," Innoka supplied. "They''re a very dark brown." Sophie and Rani shared a glance, then grinned at her. "What? I notice eye color. Anyway I''m here to see how high I can climb. Enough about men and eyes. Rani, will you help me with the rope?" "Of course. Sophie, get back up there and drop again. This time try to get your hands on the ground sooner. Innoka, we got you to the green bar, right?" Sophie started to climb as Innoka agreed.
Peter woke up from a nap to find Sophie in his room. She was in his chair, sewing something. He sat up, watching her. "How do you sleep so deeply?" she asked, not looking up from her sewing. "Honestly, I could drive a herd of elephants through this room and you''d not wake." "Oh, it''s¡­" He yawned, rubbing his face. "It''s something that hasn''t left me from the army. I can sleep anywhere, at any time. And I can stay awake for about three days straight before I drop." "What was it like, being in the army?" Peter looked at his hands. "I don''t want to talk about it," he muttered. She paused, glancing at him before making another stitch. "That bad?" "Worse." He shook his head. "How do you get in here? Why do you get in here?" "How is a secret," she said, knotting the thread. "Why¡­ I didn''t want to work on this alone and everyone else is busy." She pulled out a small pair of scissors and snipped the thread, carefully putting the needle away. "There!" Peter watched as she got up, shaking out her fuzzy robe thing. She turned it right side out and pulled the new seams into place. "Making it less like a potato sack?" he guessed. "Exactly." She turned her back on him and pulled her shirt off. "I''m not a master seamstress, but I¡¯d hope I know how to alter a square of fabric to fit me properly. It seems the style here for women to embroider them, but first I want mine to not make me look entirely formless." Peter barely heard the words. She continued talking, but all his focus was on her dark blonde hair brushing bare skin. As she pulled the robe on he realized he wasn''t breathing and took a deep breath. "How does it look?" Sophie asked, turning towards him again. "Much better," he said, longing for a snowbank to jump in. She giggled. "Are you feeling all right? You look like you have a fever." "Yes," Peter said. "A very contagious fever. Sorry." He laid back down and turned away from her, pulling the blanket over his head. He curled up, trying to control himself. There was silence for a few seconds, then he heard her take her robe off. And silence again. "Peter, if you want me to stop, tell me," she said softly. "I don''t ask you to explain, just tell me now." A thousand fears and excuses ran through his head. He didn''t want to push her away, but if he messed up and made her hate him the whole team would suffer. Her hand touched his shoulder. "You''re not saying anything." Peter sat up again, finding her back in her shirt. "I''m¡­ I don¡¯t want you to stop." Sophie smiled, sitting on the bed next to him. "Good." She leaned in and pressed her lips gently against his. Whatever restraint Peter had snapped. He closed his eyes, sliding his arms around her. She broke away, but he kissed her again, more intensely. He lost all sense of time. Sophie moved into his lap, and somehow he got his hands under her shirt. He wanted more, but the doubts and fears in the back of his mind kept him from taking any chances. Eventually she pulled away, and moved further back when he tried to kiss her again. "Sorry," he whispered, dropping his hands to her belt. He saw the buckle and realized it was his belt, but only smiled. "I''ll admit I haven''t planned past this point," Sophie said, trailing her fingers down his chest. "What should we do?" Peter wanted to take all her clothes off. But somehow he didn''t have the courage to say that. "I''ll take my things back to my room," she decided, getting up. "You may follow me, if you wish." "I won''t," he said. "But, Sophie¡­" "Yes?" He moved to the edge of the bed and kissed her one more time. "I love you." She smiled, stepping away.
Marie took a deep breath, her lips parted slightly. She picked up notes of¡­ dirt, mostly. "I promise it tastes better than it smells," Ebba said, stirring the small pot. "Not that anyone drinks this for the flavor." Marie looked at her, debating. "Yes?" Ebba asked. "I lost my ability to smell years ago," Marie told her, deciding to share the secret. "Broke my nose, and some idiot convinced me to snort seawater to heal the inside. Haven''t smelled a thing since." Ebba laughed. "That sounds painful." "Exquisitely, yes." There was a knock on the door. Marie pushed herself to her feet using Ebba''s shoulder and went to open it. Sophie stood on the other side, oddly nervous. "Marie, I- Oh. Sorry, didn''t know you had company." "Join us, I wouldn''t mind," Ebba called, grinning. "I would," Marie hissed, then looked back at Sophie. "Come in if you need something, we''re waiting for the pot to boil." "Oh? What are you making?" the girl asked, stepping in. "And why not make it in the kitchen?" "Mushroom tea," Ebba answered. "Making it in here so Louis doesn''t find out and get jealous." Sophie looked confused, but didn''t ask for elaboration. "Well, I was¡­ in need of advice. You see, I¡­ kissed Peter, and I don''t know what to do next." "Invite him over for some mushrooms," Ebba suggested with a perfectly straight face. "I doubt they need them," Marie told her. "The problem is they''re both virgins." "Ah. In that case, I would be happy to show you what to do. Come, sit next to me." Sophie smiled. "Really?" "No," Marie said flatly, grabbing Sophie by the arm. "Let''s discuss this in your room, leave the witch here." Ebba laughed, focusing on the pot again. "It¡¯s fine, I''ll stop. I''m not here to be nervously declined." "Declined?" Sophie echoed. "Never mind," Marie said, pushing Sophie into a chair. "With Peter¡­ I''m sure he''d prefer setting the pace. Just keep finding opportunities to be alone with him, and things will progress." "But they''ll progress extremely slowly," Sophie whined. "I think he''s worried about appearing too eager." "Mushrooms," Ebba whispered. "Or, what type of drunk is he?" "Then show him how eager you are," Marie told Sophie, ignoring the witch. "Get him to kiss you when you can. And if he apologizes, send him my way." "Right." Sophie was blushing, but looked determined. "What should I do when¡­ things have progressed?" "Continue progressing," Ebba shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s always more to discover." Marie nodded in agreement, then paused, furrowing her eyebrows. "Sophie, what do you know about sex?" Sophie blushed again, trying to act casual. "It¡­ involves a man and a woman and results in babies. Mother said I didn''t need to know more until I was about to be married." Marie shared a glance with Ebba. Ebba nodded. "All completely wrong." "All of it?" "Not completely," Marie said, thinking. "It doesn''t result in babies here," Ebba said. "Women get some sort of regulator put in us that stops our cycle, and the men get an injection every three months that sterilizes them. The rostari do lots of things to us and only tell if you ask directly." "Interesting," Marie said. "So¡­ I can''t get pregnant?" Sophie asked. "Not while you''re here," Ebba shrugged. "If you leave they''ll take the regulator out." "Perfect." She smiled, then frowned. "How else was it wrong?" "For one thing, your mother''s an idiot," Marie told her. "I''ll have to explain some things in detail, and that will take more time than I have right now." Ebba picked up her small pot and blew out the candles that had been heating it. "Done." "And for the last thing being wrong, I''m sure Ebba would love to give you a personal demonstration, but she has to give me one first." Marie pulled Sophie out of the chair and pushed her towards the door. "We''ll speak more tomorrow. Good-bye." "But wait-" The door closed, cutting Sophie off. Ebba got to her feet, laughing. "You were too subtle." "I don''t want even more questions," Marie said, grinning as she took the pot. "How much should I drink?" 19 - Sahara Desert Sahara Desert, Mali Peter closed his eyes as light covered him, taking him from an artificial environment to¡­ home. Sand shifted under his boots as the pins and needles feeling faded. Dry heat rushed in, blasting his skin as he took a deep breath of clean air. It smelled right. He opened his eyes and saw sand dunes. A few sparse trees interrupted the monotony as waves of heat lifted off the ground. A perfectly blue sky filled the horizon, the sun baking away any clouds that dared try to form. It was beautiful. Peter laughed, turning in place to take it all in. "So this is your world, cowboy?" Marie asked, eyebrows raised as she looked around. He grinned at her. "Yes, ma''am. No contradictions here, everythin'' will kill ya exactly as you think it will." "Wonderful," Razan said flatly, adjusting the hat on his head. "It''s¡­ rather warm," Sophie said, already sweating. "Don''t worry, we came in at the hottest part of the day," he told her. "It''ll cool off in a few hours." "Oh good, only a few hours," Razan muttered. Peter pulled a map device out of his back pocket and looked it over. "The supply pad is this way. We''ll walk for fifteen minutes then break for five until it gets dark." "And after dark?" Marie asked. "Temperature will drop, so we can walk for longer periods," he said. Marie nodded. "Good plan. Lead the way." Peter gave her a salute and started walking.
Sophie felt like she was about to die. She¡¯d never experienced heat like this before. It came from all sides, from every angle. There was no shade, and even the water in her canteen was close to boiling. ¡°Time to stop,¡± Peter announced, scanning the horizon. He looked¡­ happy. He hadn¡¯t been exaggerating when he¡¯d said deserts were his world. He was perfectly at ease in his poncho and cowboy boots. Razan, dropping his backpack and collapsing face-first into the sand, did not look at ease. He looked like he was two seconds off from death. Marie pulled the length of cloth they used as a tent out of Peter¡¯s backpack. She was sweating, but it was clear she was familiar with these temperatures. Sophie sat next to Razan, pulling her hot boots off as Peter and Marie set up the tent around them. ¡°Are you still alive?¡± Peter asked. Sophie glanced up to see he was nudging Razan with his boot. ¡°Eh,¡± Razan said into the sand. ¡°If you stay like that sand will get stuck in your skin,¡± Marie told him, lowering herself down next to Sophie. ¡°At least roll over and brush your face off.¡± Razan did as ordered, which left a spot for Peter on Sophie¡¯s other side. Peter took his hat off and used it to fan himself. Sophie now had a dilemma. She wanted to lean against Peter and flirt with him. But the thought of touching another person, even Peter, when her clothes were soaked through with sweat and touching someone would mean less area for the faint breeze to pass over¡­ made her shudder. After a minute of indecision she felt a drop of sweat run down her spine, and decided to not move closer to Peter and his heat-radiating poncho. Instead, she pulled her canteen around and drained it. They¡¯d started with three each, and that was her second one emptied. Marie watched her, a worried look on her face. ¡°Nop!¡± she called, looking around. A few seconds later a bird materialized on the sand. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Is it possible to get more water?¡± Marie asked. ¡°There is more water at the supply pad,¡± Nop said. ¡°How much more water?¡± Peter asked. ¡°A near-infinite amount,¡± the bird reported. ¡°As long as you only use water for drinking, we will continue to provide it.¡± ¡°Noted,¡± Marie said, laying back against the sand. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Any time.¡± Nop vanished. Razan stirred. ¡°So we need to conserve water. How far are we from the pad?¡± ¡°At the pace we¡¯ve been going, it should take us two hours,¡± Peter answered. ¡°But the sun will be down in half an hour, which will make things easier.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say easier,¡± Marie said. ¡°Different.¡± ¡°I think it¡¯ll be easier,¡± Sophie said. ¡°I¡¯m much more used to the cold than the heat. I can barely breathe right now.¡± Razan made a sound of agreement. ¡°It¡¯ll be easier for a good hour or so,¡± Peter decided. ¡°The desert takes time getting to each extreme. Once it¡¯s cold, though, it¡¯ll be miserable again.¡± He looked up at the sky, then smiled at Sophie. ¡°We¡¯ll be able to see the Milky Way. There¡¯s no better place to stargaze than in a desert.¡± ¡°We live in space,¡± Marie reminded him. Ignoring her, Sophie took Peter¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯ll have to show me the constellations.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know many, but I can point out the planets,¡± he said. The moment was marred by the fact that their hands were sticky with sweat and covered in a fine layer of sand. It was, truly, quite revolting. Sophie pulled her hand back and made a conscious choice to not wipe her hand on her trousers. ¡°I wonder if we can see the ship,¡± she said, putting her empty canteen away. ¡°Maybe,¡± Peter shrugged, digging his hand into the sand. ¡°We¡¯re at the right latitude. It might stay over Hawai¡¯i, though.¡± ¡°Has¡­ disguised¡­ star¡­ astronomers¡­ seen it,¡± Razan mumbled. ¡°Can¡¯t stay over Hawai¡¯i,¡± Marie muttered, her voice a bit stronger. ¡°Sailors would¡¯ve seen stationary star¡­ recorded it¡­ used it for navigation.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t sailors use the North Star because it¡¯s always visible?¡± Sophie asked. Marie¡¯s eyebrows did a complicated dance, then she opened her eyes and sat up. ¡°You¡¯re right. Polaris might be the ship.¡± Sophie beamed. Peter got to his feet, brushing the sand off his hands. ¡°When night falls we¡¯ll find the star and decide. For now it¡¯s time we keep moving.¡± Sophie slipped her boots back on, climbing up. Marie waved her hand for help, and Sophie pulled her to her feet.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Razan made a long sound like a mummy rising from its tomb and rolled onto his stomach again. ¡°Don¡¯t be dramatic,¡± Marie ordered. Sophie giggled, helping Peter take the tent down and fold the cloth. ¡°Life is agony and the sun has made me his personal enemy,¡± Razan told the sand. Marie crossed her arms. ¡°If you keep on like that the hawks might use it in the review. Meaning Innoka would see.¡± Razan was instantly on his feet, wiping sand from his face. Sophie laughed. ¡°Wow,¡± Peter said, pulling on his backpack. ¡°That worked really well.¡± ¡°Never underestimate my ability to get people to do what I want, cowboy,¡± Marie said, starting to walk. ¡°Yes, Captain.¡±
Ever so slowly, the sun set and stars appeared. The temperature became bearable, stayed that way for a while, and then turned a bit chilly. Marie was aware the night felt colder than it was due to her damp clothes. She wished she¡¯d brought an extra set, not just an outer layer. Sophie wanted to know the name of every star and constellation in the sky. Between Marie, Peter, and Razan they almost managed it. Marie knew the most names, but Peter and Razan knew the stories behind them. She¡¯d never bothered learning why two groups of stars were called Ursa Major and Ursa Minor; that knowledge was of no help to someone lost at sea. Razan claimed his knowledge came from studying during his samurai training. He¡¯d learned to write by copying the legends. Peter admitted his stories had been passed down to him by his mother. And then had immediately changed the subject. Marie recognized that tone of voice and those twitching movements. It had been obvious to her that his parents were dead, but this confirmed he felt guilty about their passing. As the night grew colder she wondered if he¡¯d been the direct cause, or if he¡¯d simply been unable to prevent it. Finally they crested a sand dune and stopped. The supply pad was below them, open for anyone to walk on and raid. ¡°I don¡¯t like that,¡± Peter said, scanning the horizon. ¡°Agreed,¡± Razan muttered, taking a step back. Marie smiled, proud of her crew. ¡°It does feel remarkably like a trap.¡± Sophie was squinting at the pad. ¡°There¡¯s something invisible around it,¡± she said, pulling a compact spyglass out of a pocket. ¡°Where did you get that?¡± Peter asked. ¡°Stole it. There¡¯s some sort of¡­ shimmering¡­ shimmer. Around the area. Look.¡± She handed the spyglass to Marie. Marie took it and put it to her eye. The supply pad looked like someone had hung a layer of fine gold gauze around it. Or perhaps it was simply dust, hanging very oddly in the air. ¡°Peter, take my rifle and try to put a shot in the middle of the pad,¡± she ordered, using Sophie to lower herself onto the sand. She laid on her stomach, watching. The weapons had all been split between Peter and Razan. They settled on the ground, emptying their bags to load and distribute everything. Finally Peter knelt at the top of the dune with the rifle in his hands, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The sound echoed across the desert, alerting everyone within miles to their position. Sophie¡¯s startled yelp added to that. Marie, who¡¯d become used to loud, sudden noises decades ago, didn¡¯t move or take her eyes off the target. The paint bullet hit the shimmering gauze and splattered. It didn¡¯t pass through. The other three watched Marie expectantly as she debated. If it only stopped projectiles from passing through, this near-invisible barrier might prove very useful. ¡°Sophie: run down there and see what it is,¡± Marie ordered. ¡°Razan: look north. Peter: look south.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Yes, Captain.¡± ¡°Why me?¡± Marie glanced at Sophie. ¡°You¡¯re the most expendable.¡± The girl huffed. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± She made the word sound like an insult. ¡°Use that tone with me again and I will cut out your tongue,¡± Marie said calmly, looking through the spyglass again. ¡°Now run.¡± There was a brief pause, then Sophie hurried down the sand dune. It would take her a good five minutes to reach the pad. Peter cleared his throat. ¡°Please don¡¯t cut her tongue out. I need it.¡± Razan snorted. ¡°Fine,¡± Marie conceded. ¡°Tell me which of her fingers you don¡¯t need and I¡¯ll take that instead.¡± ¡°Do you want me to-¡± ¡°Movement,¡± Razan said, cutting them off. He pointed west-north-west, to where a hawk was hovering. Below the hawk was a single dark shape on the sand. Marie looked up and saw a hawk above them, too. She both blessed and cursed these simple indicators of where people were. ¡°Out of range,¡± Peter reported. ¡°One person,¡± Marie stated. ¡°The others are probably circling.¡± ¡°As soon as Sophie is on the pad you two should go down,¡± Peter said. ¡°I¡¯ll cover you from here.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Marie said, scanning the dunes to the west for any movement. She handed Razan the spyglass. ¡°Can you see what colors they wear?¡± He squinted through it. ¡°Some shade of blue or green. The moon is washing everything out.¡± Peter handed the spyglass back, and they waited. Sophie reached the pad, poked at the gauze a few times, then stepped through. It took her five steps to reach the center, where she picked up a canteen. And then she turned and waved at them. ¡°Just in case anyone didn¡¯t know our position,¡± Razan growled. ¡°She¡¯s a civilian,¡± Peter told him. ¡°She¡¯s never been in real danger before.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not it,¡± Marie said, slowly getting to her feet. ¡°With the hawk and the gunshot our position was already obvious. Not to mention her footprints leading directly to us. Waving makes no difference whatsoever. If it did, I¡¯m sure she wouldn¡¯t have.¡± Razan clearly wasn¡¯t convinced. Marie picked up her cutlass and pistols. ¡°On your feet, samurai. Peter, follow us as soon as we get to the pad.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Razan said, tying his swords to his side. Peter adjusted his position on the sand. ¡°Yes, captain.¡±
Razan walked half a step behind Marie, keeping his eyes on the horizon. He expected an attack at any moment. She also scanned the horizon, but her shoulders drooped. They¡¯d run out of water an hour ago, and Razan hoped they¡¯d reach the pad before she collapsed. A shot rang out from behind them. Razan pulled a sword from its sheath, moving closer to Marie. ¡°Put those away, samurai,¡± Marie said calmly, holding her pistols at the ready. ¡°You need a ranged weapon.¡± Razan looked to where she was aiming and saw a dark figure standing halfway down a sand dune. It was the same person they¡¯d spotted before, now holding some sort of rifle. Razan put his swords away, noticing a tremor in Marie¡¯s arm. She needed water. He bowed, holding his hands out. ¡°Allow me to hold those.¡± She frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t know how to aim them.¡± ¡°The enemy does not know that.¡± Marie looked unhappy, but placed the pistols in his hands. ¡°They''re marked. A shoots left, so keep her in your right hand. B shoots down and has a hair trigger, so aim high and keep her safety on.¡± ¡°Thank you for your trust,¡± he said, standing straight. He aimed at the enemy, and they started walking again. It didn¡¯t take long for them to reach the pad. Sophie met them at the edge, a canteen in each hand. Razan thanked her, still watching the person on the dune. Marie took both canteens and drained them. As Sophie went to get more, Marie took her pistols back. She walked to the other side of the pad and shot at the enemy, who had retreated. From this distance Razan could see it was a bearded man, his outfit teal and pink. That marked him as being from the Caterpillars, but he couldn¡¯t remember anything Innoka had said about them. He wished he¡¯d brought his notebook. He also wished Innoka were here, but that was another matter entirely. Marie reloaded as Razan accepted a canteen from Sophie and drained it. Peter left their dune, running easily across the sand. Razan watched for a moment, then turned to watch the Caterpillar. The man lifted his rifle, aiming at Peter. Marie fired at him, the paint hitting within arm¡¯s reach of his position. He looked at it, at Marie who was aiming her second pistol, and took a few steps behind the sand dune as Razan reloaded the first. The man took aim at Peter again, and Marie fired. He was distracted only for a second, but that was long enough for Peter to launch himself onto the pad. The near-invisible barrier around the pad flashed, and a ring appeared at the top. It had blue-green and red-orange stripes; their team colors. ¡°Supply pad¡¯s officially ours,¡± Marie said, watching it slowly turn. Sophie jumped, reaching for the ring, but her fingers passed by just below it. ¡°Stay inside,¡± Razan snapped, frowning at the Caterpillar. The man vanished behind the dune. Above him, the hawk circled south. ¡°Seems we¡¯re safe for now,¡± Marie said, also noticing the hawk. ¡°Everyone drink up. Is there food?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Sophie said, lifting a set of bento boxes. ¡°Please say it¡¯s time for lunch.¡± ¡°It is,¡± Marie decreed. ¡°Here¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. First, we shall eat lunch. Then we will sit, watching for attacks. Razan, face west. Peter, you will face south. I will face north, and fall asleep. Sophie, you will face east for five minutes, then grow bored and flirt outrageously with Peter.¡± Sophie grinned. Peter frowned. ¡°Is this an order or clairvoyance?¡± ¡°An order,¡± Marie said, sitting down and taking a box. ¡°We¡¯ve seen an enemy to the north-west. The hawk is going south, so we can presume the rest of the group isn¡¯t to the north. I¡¯m about to faint, and I don¡¯t doubt I look like I¡¯m about to faint. I won¡¯t be of much use as a lookout, so I¡¯ll ¡®watch¡¯ in a direction we don¡¯t expect an attack. Razan and Peter, you both look like you know how to fight. Therefore you will watch the two most likely directions an attack will come from. Sophie is a typical teenage girl, and so will watch the only direction we¡¯re positive enemies won¡¯t be coming from.¡± She paused, scanning the horizon. ¡°If we only have one guard actively keeping watch, that will make the enemy travel as far out of his sight as possible. The farther they travel, the more tired they¡¯ll be. The more tired they are, the slower they¡¯ll be, and thus the easier targets they¡¯ll make. Peter also happens to be an excellent marksman, so if we can convince the enemy to come straight at him, they¡¯re dead.¡± ¡°I like this plan,¡± Sophie said cheerfully, opening her lunch. ¡°It makes sense,¡± Peter agreed, failing to keep a straight face. Razan pulled a box towards him, noticing the actual watching would all have to be done by him. ¡°I will play my part.¡± 20 - Sahara Desert Sahara Desert, Mali Peter had served in the US Army for two years. He¡¯d spent many nights waiting for enemies to appear on the horizon. He¡¯d spent many nights as a sentry, watching for anything that happened to be wrong. And never, on any of those long nights, had his commanding officers, with pure tactical logic, ordered a beautiful girl to flirt with him. Marie LeFleur was the best captain in the history of captains, and Peter was willing to shoot anyone who disagreed with this fact. The captain was currently behind him, using a lunch box as a pillow as she snored softly. Razan was to his left, having stuffed two of the paint balls they used as ammunition into his ears about an hour ago. Razan¡¯s swords, Sophie¡¯s spear and Marie¡¯s cutlass had been placed between him and Peter. All the ranged weapons were directly behind Peter, who was using tent poles as a chair. And Sophie, following her orders, was leaning against Peter, absently trying to unbuckle his belt as he played with her hair. He wanted to kiss her again, but it was reaching the point where he¡¯d have to find somewhere private to calm himself down if they touched any more. They were in the middle of the open desert, and there were no private places. ¡°Someone is watching us,¡± Sophie sighed, adjusting her position in his arms. Peter glanced around without lifting his head, spotting a dark shape south-south-east. ¡°Only one. The hawk is straight south; I bet the other three are there.¡± ¡°How do you suppose they plan on reaching us?¡± ¡°They¡¯ll probably rely on speed,¡± he said into her hair. ¡°Surprise isn¡¯t something to underestimate.¡± She smiled, looking up at him. ¡°We¡¯ll have to act surprised.¡± Peter gave in, kissing her for what he promised himself would be the last time. He knew he was treading the line between simply wanting her and needing her, but only pressing his lips against hers and holding them there wouldn¡¯t push him over. As they parted he glanced over and saw two people running towards them across the sand. Sophie immediately rolled away as Peter grabbed the rifle and took aim. The two people split, and Peter focused on the one heading right. He fired, the report waking Marie and alerting Razan. Paint splattered on his target¡¯s arm, the woman stumbling at the impact. Peter grabbed a pistol, found an A engraved on the grip, and aimed again as Marie took and reloaded the rifle. He fired, and this time the paint hit his target in the stomach. The woman dropped to the ground, choosing to crawl forward like a snake. Giving up on her, Peter took his crossbow and aimed at the man who was almost at the pad. He pulled the trigger and paint hit the man square in the chest, but that didn¡¯t stop him from leaping through the barrier with three-pronged daggers held ready. Razan saw the daggers and immediately backed away, holding his swords behind him. ¡°Sophie! May I borrow your spear!¡± ¡°You¡¯ll buy me a new one if it breaks,¡± she warned, watching the sand dunes. ¡°Thank you!¡± He dropped his swords to the side and dove around the man for her chain spear. The man laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t want to break your precious katana?¡± he jeered, swiping at Razan. ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Razan snapped, jabbing at him. Marie set the reloaded rifle next to Peter, nodded at him, and jumped to her feet, grabbing her cutlass as she pulled the dagger off her belt. She swung her cutlass at the man, who caught it between two prongs of a dagger. ¡°Too much steel in this to break,¡± she told him, using her own dagger to slash his arm open. He hissed through his teeth, moving his other arm fast enough to knock away a thrust from Razan. Sophie put a hand on Peter¡¯s elbow. ¡°Third person coming.¡± He looked up and saw a second woman walking across the sand. She had a tall shield held in front of her, protecting her from any ranged attack. Peter, who had automatically raised the rifle to his shoulder, lowered it. ¡°Sophie¡­¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Do you think you can steal her shield?¡± To her credit, she didn¡¯t immediately say yes. ¡°Depends on what weapons she has. Razan! May I borrow a sword?¡± ¡°Absolutely not!¡± he shouted, jabbing at the man with her spear. ¡°Here!¡± Marie called, tossing her dagger in their general direction. She pulled another off her belt and continued fighting. ¡°Thank you!¡± Sophie grabbed it. ¡°I think I can steal the shield now.¡± ¡°Do it,¡± Peter told her. ¡°Run zig-zag so the man on the dune can¡¯t target you.¡± She gave a quick salute and took off across the sand. The woman who was crawling slowly towards them stopped, lifting her head to watch Sophie. It wasn¡¯t a perfect target, but it was as good as Peter hoped to get. He aimed carefully, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. The paint ball hit the top of her head, glancing off and spraying red-orange paint across the sand. She cursed as she was covered in a blue glow, and then she was gone. Pleased, Peter traded rifle for pistol and aimed at the melee fight a few paces away. ¡°Marie, Razan, back!¡± His teammates immediately stepped back, and he pulled the trigger. He¡¯d aimed as if he¡¯d had the A pistol, but the pistol he was holding was B. The shot went low, hitting the man right in the groin. At such short range, it must have had a fairly strong impact. The man squeaked, dropped his daggers, and fell to his knees. Blue light surrounded him as he collapsed to his side. He vanished. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one way to end a fight,¡± Marie said, putting her dagger away. ¡°Were you aiming for that?¡± Razan asked, setting Sophie¡¯s spear down. ¡°Nope,¡± Peter said. ¡°Marie, you need to paint these different colors. Can¡¯t tell which is which.¡± She smirked. ¡°I¡¯ve never had a problem.¡± She paused. ¡°Sophie?¡± A shot rang out across the desert, and they looked over just in time to see Sophie reach the woman with the shield.
Sophie felt her heart racing as she ran towards the woman with the shield. All she had to do was grab it, yank it away from her, and run off again. Simple. A shot rang out, and moments later paint hit the sand next to her foot. She jumped back, startled, and the woman dashed forwards. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. The woman had a huge double-headed axe in her hand, which she¡¯d held hidden behind the shield. Sophie saw it and wanted to flee. The thing could cleave through bone easily, and Sophie was rather attached to all her bones. She dodged back, remembering the confident look in Peter¡¯s eyes, and knew she couldn¡¯t run. She had to at least try to get the shield. The woman swung again with her heavy weapon, and Sophie noticed she didn¡¯t have a particularly firm grip on it. This group hadn¡¯t had lunch, and hadn¡¯t replenished their water. They were at a disadvantage. Sophie darted in and grabbed the axe, yanking it away. The woman stumbled, using her shield to steady her, but her fingers couldn¡¯t hold the weapon. Sophie spun, tossing it off into the desert. Another shot rang out, and this time Sophie felt something hit her in the shoulder. She stumbled, yelping, remembering there were two enemies she needed to watch out for. The woman grabbed at the dagger on Sophie¡¯s belt, but Sophie hopped out of reach. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I need your shield,¡± Sophie told her. ¡°Why?¡± the woman demanded. ¡°Because it¡¯s hiding you from ranged attacks,¡± Sophie answered, and grabbed its edges. She yanked it up, over her head, and heard a series of sharp snaps. The woman cried out in pain, dropping to her knees to cradle her arm. Two red welts quickly formed, and Sophie realized the shield had been strapped to her arm. ¡°Sorry!¡± she said, holding it between her and the man on the dune. ¡°I didn¡¯t- Erm¡­¡± Sophie wondered what Marie would do, and remembered the dagger. She pulled it off her belt and pointed it at the woman. ¡°Surrender now! Please?¡± The woman looked at her and gave a feeble laugh. ¡°Have you ever actually used a dagger before?¡± ¡°No,¡± Sophie admitted. ¡°Well, not on a person. Please surrender?¡± The woman slowly got to her feet, still clutching her arm. ¡°You¡¯re holding it wrong. Have someone teach you how to use that thing before you get into a real fight.¡± She pulled the bail device out of a pocket and hit it, vanishing shortly after. Sophie beamed, turning to head back to the supply pad. She glanced at the man on the dune just in time to see him disappear in a blue glow, too. A cheer rang out as Marie and Peter celebrated the team¡¯s victory.
Eight hours had passed since the contest¡¯s beginning. Sixteen hours remained. Marie watched stars twinkle in the sky, feeling at peace. The world was still. She¡¯d never truly experienced a still world before. After their battle with the Caterpillars, everything had gone quiet. Marie and Sophie were keeping a vague eye towards the northward direction, while the men blandly stared southish. It was boring as hell, but Marie had long ago learned to appreciate boring moments. Being bored meant there was no one trying to kill her. ¡°People,¡± Peter said suddenly. Marie turned, squinting at a dark shape on the dune. Razan pulled the spyglass from his pocket and looked through it. His already straight posture straightened just a bit more. ¡°Foxes,¡± he reported. ¡°We have a truce with them, right?¡± Sophie asked Marie. Marie nodded, watching Razan. ¡°I wonder what they¡¯ll ask of us.¡± ¡°They can stay here for a while, surely,¡± Razan said, almost too casually. ¡°The pad is ours, and we can¡¯t fully share, but offering them an hour of rest ought to be acceptable.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the time, but the number of people,¡± Sophie said, teasing. ¡°All four wouldn¡¯t be allowed to stay, but Innoka by herself can stay as long as she likes.¡± He gave her an unamused glare. ¡°If Innoka¡¯s still here,¡± Peter said, getting up to stretch. ¡°There¡¯s only three people coming towards us.¡± Razan immediately looked through the spyglass again. ¡°She¡¯s there. The other two are Chimeg and Antoni.¡± ¡°Antoni is the leader, right?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°He is,¡± Marie answered. ¡°Peter, have you met them yet?¡± ¡°I have not,¡± he said. Marie watched him. ¡°Have you been avoiding them?¡± He glanced at her before straightening the fringe on his poncho. That was answer enough. Antoni was from Poland and Chimeg was from Mongolia. They were fine. Innoka¡¯s people were some of the original inhabitants of North America, and she¡¯d said she had no desire to meet a previous US soldier. The last member of their group was Mateo, from Mexico. To him, Peter would be a traitor three times over. Everyone claimed earthly politics didn¡¯t matter on the ship and in contests, but Marie didn¡¯t quite believe that. Prejudice flowed in humanity¡¯s blood. The Foxes drew closer, and finally stopped within arm¡¯s reach of the pad. ¡°Hello, Drifters,¡± Antoni said, giving Marie a military salute. ¡°May we have your permission to enter and refill our canteens?¡± ¡°You may,¡± Marie said, motioning for them to step inside. ¡°Thank you.¡± He crossed the barrier, the two women following him. Innoka smiled at Razan, brushing a long strand of hair behind her ear. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to ask, but would it be possible for us to eat lunch here?¡± She looked to Marie at the end, making it plausible she wasn¡¯t asking the samurai. ¡°We don¡¯t need to,¡± Antoni said. ¡°We can collect food and eat elsewhere.¡± ¡°Elsewhere might not be safe,¡± Marie said, thinking. Chimeg finished off a canteen and looked over. ¡°I¡¯d rather eat here.¡± ¡°No, no, we can continue on,¡± Antoni insisted. Marie looked at the ring around the top of the barrier. ¡°Tell me, at what point would that change colors?¡± He glanced up, then shrugged. ¡°It would change if all four of you were to leave.¡± ¡°Thought so,¡± Marie said, pushing herself to her feet. ¡°Would you do us the favor of staying here with Razan to guard our pad while Peter, Sophie and I raid the pad to the south?¡± He blinked, confused. ¡°You want us to stay here while you explore?¡± Innoka asked. ¡°We will,¡± Chimeg said, collapsing into a cross-legged sitting position. She looked like a team of wild horses couldn¡¯t drag her from that spot. Razan was very carefully keeping a neutral face. Antoni wasn¡¯t convinced. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°You clearly need food and rest,¡± Marie said. ¡°Sophie is about to go mad from boredom, and it would be cruel to keep Peter caged in his natural habitat. Razan is best at close combat, so him staying here to defend our territory is wisest. And I want to see how other teams fight and defend their pads without risking losing our own access to water.¡± ¡°I¡­ suppose that makes sense,¡± Antoni decided. ¡°If you really want to leave, we¡¯ll stay here until you get back. All four of you can go, though, we can defend a pad just fine.¡± Marie gave him a tight smile. ¡°I don¡¯t trust you that much. Razan will be staying here.¡± He glanced at Innoka, who had taken a seat near Razan. ¡°As the oldest, why don¡¯t you-¡± ¡°You might think I¡¯m old and weak, and try to overpower me,¡± Marie said, cutting him off. ¡°You¡¯re automatically less likely to try attacking a young man than an old woman. Either Peter or Razan will stay. Cowboy wants to wander, and the samurai never wants to move more than is strictly necessary.¡± ¡°Thank the woman and ask Nop for lunch,¡± Chimeg ordered. ¡°If you don¡¯t we¡¯ll mutiny,¡± Innoka added. ¡°Fine,¡± Antoni said. ¡°Thank you. We will gladly stay here and defend your pad with Razan.¡± ¡°Yes, thank you,¡± Innoka said, smiling. She really did have a striking smile. ¡°All the thanks,¡± Chimeg said off-handedly. ¡°Nop! Lunch!¡± Marie turned to Peter and Sophie. ¡°Get your weapons, fill your canteens, let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Yes, captain.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± She glanced at Razan, who gave her a small bow. His face was still neutral, but there was a smile in his eyes.
Razan was convinced Marie was the best leader it was possible to have. If anyone disagreed, he would happily run them through with a sword. Innoka sat a few paces away on a box, combing sand out of her long black hair. It had taken her a good three minutes to carefully unbraid it, and Razan wasn¡¯t sure at what point he¡¯d given up pretending he wasn¡¯t watching. She shook a few precious drops of water onto her fingers to dampen them before continuing her work. The ends of her hair brushed the ground as she moved, and Razan debated offering to hold it up for her. Just to help. Chimeg, like Marie, had fallen asleep immediately after eating. She didn¡¯t snore, but occasionally she twitched. The twitching mildly alarmed Razan. Antoni, sitting on the other side of the pad, was clearly thinking of murdering Razan. If he¡¯d been holding a sign that read ¡°INNOKA IS MINE¡±, his thoughts couldn¡¯t have been more obvious. Razan was very good at ignoring obvious invisible words, so he continued watching Innoka as she parted her hair into three pieces. Tossing her head back, she started to rebraid her hair. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, smiling ever so slightly. Razan¡¯s fingers itched. ¡°Would-¡± ¡°Razan!¡± Antoni snapped, jumping to his feet. ¡°Come take a walk with me around the perimeter!¡± Razan looked at him, keeping his face neutral. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I cannot leave the supply pad. Although the idea is sound; you should go.¡± ¡°Innoka, come-¡± ¡°I¡¯m busy,¡± she said calmly, fingers still weaving through her braid. ¡°Fine.¡± He stomped away, acting like a child denied sweets. Razan smiled at Innoka. ¡°Would you like me to help you?¡± She almost spoke, then saw Antoni glaring and stopped. ¡°No. Thank you for offering, though.¡± Antoni continued walking, glancing back every few moments. ¡°I leave my offer open,¡± Razan said, sitting back. ¡°If you ever need help, I am here.¡± She finished her braid and tied the end with an old ribbon. ¡°Thank you.¡± 21 - Sahara Desert Sahara Desert, Mali Marie looked over the sand dune at a supply pad with orange and purple colors over it. She wasn¡¯t certain what group had those colors, but that just meant they weren¡¯t anyone she had a truce with. There were only two people on the pad. This either meant the other two were back on the ship, or they were patrolling. Marie didn¡¯t see anyone on the sand dunes around them, but that didn¡¯t mean much. ¡°What should we do?¡± Sophie asked. She¡¯d brought the shield from the Caterpillar woman, and was laying on it to protect herself from the sand. Marie had an idea, but looked at Peter. ¡°What¡¯s your instinct, cowboy?¡± He scanned the dunes. ¡°Let¡¯s wait half an hour,¡± he said. ¡°If they have someone on patrol we¡¯ll see them and shoot at them. If not, at least then we¡¯ll know for sure we¡¯re only facing two enemies.¡± ¡°We should have asked Antoni for details about their fight,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Then we¡¯d know how two people defended their pad from four.¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible this isn¡¯t the group they fought,¡± Marie said. ¡°Or that they defended the pad from another group between the Foxes leaving and us arriving.¡± ¡°Still, next time we should ask for details,¡± Peter said, checking his watch. ¡°Feel free to do so,¡± Marie told him. ¡°Going in blind is much more fun.¡± ¡°You prefer fun to safety?¡± he asked, clearly disappointed. She smiled. ¡°I was a pirate. Not a privateer. Not a sailor. Pirate.¡± He almost spoke, but shook his head and scanned the horizon again. ¡°As a thief, I also prefer fun to safety,¡± Sophie decided. Peter smiled. ¡°Where¡¯s Razan when I need him¡­¡±
Razan watched the group coming down over the sand dunes. They wore yellow and grey; colors which camouflaged them surprisingly well in the dark desert. ¡°Bees,¡± Chimeg reported, pulling her crossbow around. She aimed and shot in one motion, almost casually. Even more impressive, one of the distant figures recoiled as the bolt hit. Razan stared at her, wondering if he should beg her to teach him. Chimeg was still sitting on the sand, reloading as if she¡¯d done this from infancy. The people on the dunes immediately backed away. ¡°No, those are the Wasps,¡± Antoni said, squinting. Razan hesitated. ¡°We have a truce with the Wasps.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why they were just strolling over,¡± Chimeg said, stretching her arms. ¡°We don¡¯t have a truce with them,¡± Innoka said. ¡°What should we do?¡± Antoni thought it over. ¡°We¡¯ll fight them if they come closer. If Razan wants to leave and give them water, he may do so.¡± ¡°I cannot leave,¡± Razan said. ¡°You may fight them, but I will remain neutral.¡± Chimeg leaned back. ¡°You¡¯re the melee fighters, I¡¯m staying here.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind going out there to attack,¡± Innoka said. ¡°And it would be polite to let them see the Drifters haven¡¯t broken their truce.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go, then,¡± Antoni told her, stepping off the supply pad. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be impolite.¡± Innoka gave Razan a smile before following Antoni. Chimeg set her crossbow across her knees, watching them leave. After a few seconds she glanced at Razan. ¡°Innoka was right. She said you were formal¡­ thoughtful¡­ cute¡­ I can¡¯t argue with any of that.¡± Razan smiled, then dropped it and bowed. ¡°Thank you for not arguing.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Not that it matters. Antoni will never let her go.¡± He kept his face neutral, turning to watch the man. ¡°Thank you for the warning.¡±
Sophie stared at the stars, waiting for Peter to say half an hour had passed. He and Marie were watching for scouts. Sophie had been excused from the duty. ¡°Sophie,¡± Peter called softly. ¡°Look.¡± She rolled to her stomach and crawled over to see what he was pointing at. A tiny, fluffy, cat-like creature with ears twice as big as its head was trotting along the sand. It paused, comically large ears swiveling as it sniffed in their direction. Sophie nearly died from how adorable it was. ¡°What is it?¡± Marie asked, also watching. The creature turned, tail swaying as it trotted away from them. ¡°Not a clue,¡± Peter admitted. ¡°Some kind of miniature coyote?¡± ¡°Are pets allowed on the ship?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°If they are, I want one.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t seen any pets,¡± Marie said. Peter checked his watch. ¡°It¡¯s been half an hour.¡± ¡°No scouts seen?¡± Marie asked, sitting up. ¡°No scouts seen,¡± Peter repeated, scanning the desert one last time. ¡°Good.¡± She brushed sand off her clothes, then looked at Sophie. ¡°Take that shield and walk down to the pad. Stop halfway there. Hopefully that will draw them out, and Peter and I will snipe them.¡± ¡°If it doesn¡¯t?¡± Sophie asked, using the shield to push herself to her feet. ¡°Wait a few minutes. If they don¡¯t come out, come back here and we¡¯ll all go down together,¡± she ordered. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Sophie said, saluting. She smiled at Peter, then lifted her stolen shield and slid down the sand towards the supply pad. It was only a few seconds before something heavy hit the shield and bounced off. Sophie peeked over the top, seeing a purple-painted rock in the sand in front of her. She looked at the pad just in time to see a rock hurtling towards her face. Sophie squeaked, dropping to a crouch behind the shield. The rock hit the top edge, spraying paint as it bounced off and over her. She wasn¡¯t sure if that counted as a hit, but hoped it didn¡¯t. When resting on the ground, the shield reached to just above Sophie¡¯s hips. She realized if she stayed on her knees, she could shuffle forwards without having to lift the shield. Thus, she would be completely safe. They wouldn¡¯t even be able to aim at her feet. Feeling another rock hit her shield, she scooted towards the pad. It wasn¡¯t long before she came to the first rock. Pausing, Sophie picked it up. It was the size of her fist, perfectly round, with three layers of something like eggshell covering it. Between the layers was thin paint, thinner than what was in the little paint balls Marie used as ammunition. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Sophie pulled the rock out of its shell, rolled it in the sand, and slid it into a pocket. She was going to keep this rock forever.
¡°It¡¯s the atlatl man,¡± Peter said, looking through the spyglass. ¡°The who?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Remember when you first took me to the shooting range, there was a man with an atlatl for cannonballs,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s him.¡± She blinked, then took the spyglass. ¡°I would call it a handheld catapult,¡± she decided. ¡°That¡¯s the weapon, all right; don¡¯t recognize him specifically.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to know how hard those balls are hitting,¡± Peter said, watching him launch one at Sophie. Marie raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°What? Given their size and the range he¡¯s getting, either they¡¯re lighter than they look or they¡¯ve got some solid thrust behind them.¡± Marie looked back through the spyglass. ¡°Aye, the man¡¯s clearly putting some thrust into his big balls,¡± Marie said flatly. ¡°I- That¡¯s- I¡¯m being serious here,¡± he stuttered. ¡°Of course. The next question being, how long can he keep it up? Solid, as you said. Hopefully he doesn¡¯t run out of stamina before the job¡¯s done, or his partner down there won¡¯t be satisfied with his performance.¡± Peter pulled his hat down over his face, sighing. She hit his arm. ¡°They¡¯re moving.¡± He pushed the hat back up, reaching for his crossbow. The non-atlatl man left first, carrying a two-handed sword. He had an orange breastplate and purple vambraces, and Peter wondered if wearing armor increased the number of times he had to be hit. The man was moving straight, not dodging at all, so he presumed the answer was yes. Marie sat up, aimed with both pistols, and fired. Not waiting to see if her aim was true, Peter pulled the trigger on his crossbow and reloaded. His captain fired with her rifle as he let loose a second bolt. The man shimmered with blue light and vanished. ¡°How many of those hit?¡± Peter asked, helping her reload. The atlatl man had backed into the exact center of the supply pad. ¡°I counted three,¡± Marie said. ¡°But he had paint on him from earlier.¡± ¡°No help, then,¡± Peter said. ¡°How fast are you on sand, cowboy?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Fast enough.¡± ¡°Fast enough to dodge¡­¡± She paused, then grinned. ¡°Big, well-thrust balls?¡± Peter gave in. ¡°Captain, he can thrust his balls at me all day long and I¡¯ll be fine.¡± ¡°Wonderful. Run down there and beat the hell out of him.¡± Peter hesitated. Marie looked into his eyes, reading his soul. She reached out and he flinched, pulling his arm under his poncho. ¡°How many bones did they break?¡± she asked softly. He got to his feet, reloading his crossbow with suddenly sweaty hands. ¡°Go down, follow Sophie to the pad, see if she can talk him into bailing,¡± Marie ordered, her voice normal again. ¡°Yes, captain,¡± he said. She gave him a curt nod, and he set off down the dune.
Sophie debated going back. One man was gone, but the other was staying put. She heard footsteps and turned in time to see Peter run up behind her. He crouched, putting his hands on her shoulders as a rock flew just over their heads. ¡°Marie wants you to convince him to bail,¡± he said, peeking around the shield¡¯s edge. He ducked back as another rock hit the sand next to them. ¡°He¡¯s wasting ammunition like he¡¯s got an endless supply.¡± ¡°Ammunition is one of the things we¡¯re given on the pad,¡± she pointed out. ¡°True, but Nop told Marie there¡¯s a limit,¡± Peter said, looking over the top of the shield. ¡°Good guess, though.¡± She smiled, then leaned back against him. The night air was cool, and he was warm. ¡°We¡­ need to move,¡± he told her, sliding his hands to her hips. ¡°Focus on the contest.¡± ¡°Right,¡± she nodded, sitting up. She pushed the shield forward, shuffling along on her knees. For the first time in at least a day and a half, Sophie wondered what her mother would say if she suddenly appeared in front of them. Her daughter, in trousers, moving on her knees, with a man touching her? The woman would die of outrage. Sophie almost wished she had a photograph of this moment to send her. ¡°Stop!¡± the man on the supply pad called. His voice was very deep. Sophie stopped, looking around the side of the shield. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Come any closer and I will destroy you,¡± he promised. There was a slight tremor in his voice. ¡°You¡¯re not particularly good at bluffing, are you?¡± she asked. Peter gave a soft laugh, dropping his hands as he sat back. ¡°I¡¯m not bluffing,¡± the man said. ¡°Then tell us exactly what you¡¯ll do.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll run over and club you to death.¡± ¡°No, we¡¯ll shoot you with crossbow bolts as soon as you leave the pad,¡± Sophie told him. ¡°How many times have you been hit already?¡± ¡°None!¡± ¡°Not good at bluffing.¡± She moved the shield forwards a bit. ¡°Honestly, your friends are probably waiting for you. How much longer do you want to be here, alone, in danger, while your group is back home, clean, enjoying a nice drink¡­¡± ¡°I shall never bail,¡± he decreed. ¡°They also have their choice of food for dinner,¡± Sophie continued. ¡°Then they get to sleep in their own beds, while you have to sit there, not sleeping at all, hoping yet another group doesn¡¯t appear and come at you from behind. That sounds very stressful.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not listening to you,¡± he decided. ¡°How much more ammunition do you have?¡± Peter asked. ¡°You¡¯ve wasted a lot, playing target practice on the shield. You threw it all at us cuz you know it don¡¯t matter, ain¡¯t that right?¡± ¡°I have plenty,¡± the man said. ¡°And I¡¯m not bailing.¡± A sharp whistle rang out, and Sophie turned to see Marie pointing. She turned again, and spotted someone coming from the south. ¡°How do y¡¯like your odds now?¡± Peter asked. The man cursed. A blue glow shone out, letting Sophie know he¡¯d bailed. She stood, squinting at the new group. ¡°Green and¡­ I think it¡¯s just more green,¡± Peter said. ¡°To the pad, grab water, and we run back to Marie. Got it?¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Sophie echoed. They ran.
Razan frowned, reaching out. He stopped, pulling his hand back. ¡°You do know there''s no terrible penalty if you lose, right?¡± Chimeg asked, annoyed. "We''re not even betting." He touched one of his pieces and moved it across the board. ¡°Yes, but I have pride.¡± ¡°Not any more, you don¡¯t,¡± Lydia said, hopping her piece over his. She took it, grinning. ¡°One more turn and you¡¯re dead.¡± ¡°Not if you die first,¡± Innoka said, moving her piece down the board. The move went over two of Lydia¡¯s pieces. The Wasp cursed good-naturedly. Two hours earlier, Antoni had chased down Lydia¡¯s teammates, and they¡¯d fought back bravely. All three vanished within seconds of each other. Innoka had gone after Lydia, who swiped with her naginata-type weapon and cut straight through Innoka¡¯s vambrace. Wisely choosing to retreat, Innoka had run back to the pad. Lydia followed, and Razan decreed the supply pad a neutral territory. After bandaging Innoka¡¯s arm there hadn¡¯t been much to do, so Chimeg had suggested this cursed board game. Chimeg moved her piece, hopping over one of Innoka¡¯s pieces and Razan¡¯s last piece. ¡°How does defeat taste?¡± Razan leaned back. ¡°Citrusy. Faintly of squid.¡± Chimeg grinned as the other two laughed. ¡°Let¡¯s see if he¡¯s right,¡± Lydia said, hopping her piece over Innoka¡¯s final piece. ¡°There. Do you taste citrus?¡± Innoka debated. ¡°No, I taste acorns.¡± Razan smiled, then sat up as he saw someone come over the dunes to the south. The three women followed his gaze, Chimeg and Lydia reaching for their weapons. ¡°It¡¯s your group,¡± Chimeg told Razan, setting her crossbow back down. He got to his feet, moving to the edge of the supply pad as Lydia and Chimeg finished the game. Peter was in the lead, with Sophie close behind. Marie appeared a few seconds after them, limping slightly. They didn¡¯t seem rushed or hurt, so after a moment of debate Razan grabbed a canteen and went to meet them. ¡°Thank goodness,¡± Sophie called, picking up her pace. ¡°I was worried we¡¯d gone off at an angle and missed the pad.¡± ¡°Oh ye of little faith,¡± Peter said, stopping to wait for everyone. He squinted at the pad, then looked at Razan. ¡°You traded Antoni for a Wasp?¡± Razan bowed slightly. ¡°The Wasps arrived, and the Foxes made a half-hearted attempt to defeat them. Miss Lydia chased Miss Innoka back to the pad, which is now a neutral ground for the teams.¡± ¡°Will they all stay?¡± Sophie asked. Marie finally reached the group and stopped. ¡°If they agree to keep watch I won¡¯t complain,¡± she said, her shoulders sagging a bit. Razan offered her the canteen, which she accepted with a nod. ¡°Sky¡¯s getting lighter,¡± Peter said. ¡°It¡¯ll turn hot soon. Not too hot to travel, but no one will want to.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve been here almost twelve hours,¡± Sophie said, pulling a watch out of her pocket to check. ¡°Most people will want to sleep in three or four hours.¡± Peter checked his wrist, found a lack of watch, and stared at Sophie in baffled amazement. ¡°When- How-¡± ¡°We need to make a schedule for guard duty,¡± Marie said. She nodded towards the pad. ¡°But we¡¯ll need to make it with them. Let¡¯s go.¡± Peter and Sophie immediately started towards the pad. Marie sighed, taking half a step. Razan bowed, then offered his arm. She shot him a suspicious glare before accepting it. ¡°Being old ain¡¯t my fault.¡± ¡°Of course not,¡± Razan said, feeling her put her weight on him as they slowly made their way across the sand. ¡°Did they not offer to help?¡± ¡°The girl would have ended up dragging me along,¡± Marie told him. ¡°Peter¡¯s training won¡¯t let him suggest his commanding officer is weak. And my pride won¡¯t let me ask for help.¡± He frowned. ¡°I would never suggest you¡¯re weak. Pain is not weakness, it is a signal of our limits as mortal beings. And surviving to old age is something to be respected.¡± She smiled. ¡°I like your philosophy, samurai.¡± They reached the pad. ¡°All right, when¡¯s food?¡± 22 - Sahara Desert Sahara Desert, Mali The horizon slowly faded to lavender, stars vanishing one by one. As the last one winked out the sky turned blue, and the temperature rose sharply. Sophie helped Peter set up the tent, angling the cloth to provide as much shade as possible. ¡°Is there anything else we can use for shade?¡± Marie asked, looking thoughtfully at everyone¡¯s jackets. ¡°A tent might be one of the supplies available,¡± Sophie said. ¡°We could ask.¡± ¡°Oh, this is your first time in a contest like this,¡± Lydia said, looking around. ¡°Second for us,¡± Innoka said. ¡°But we didn¡¯t get a pad last time.¡± Lydia sat up. ¡°Tents are available, but getting one removes the barrier. They have walls that can be rolled up, so we get to choose between being blind and being open to ranged attacks.¡± Sophie looked at Marie as the group debated. She was already feeling sunburned, and wanted shade more than anything. ¡°We should get a tent,¡± Peter said. ¡°If we¡¯re blind it just means the enemy won¡¯t know there¡¯s seven people here. We can watch whatever side isn¡¯t facing the sun.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°Nop!¡± The raven appeared with a blue shimmer. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°We would like a tent, please,¡± Marie said. ¡°Very well,¡± Nop said. ¡°I must warn you, getting a tent will remove the safety barrier.¡± ¡°We are aware, thank you,¡± Marie told her. She bobbed, and the supply pad was surrounded by a blue glow. Suddenly a tent appeared; four long, thick fabric sheets that crossed over each other, draped over a metal frame. The fabric was tan, making Sophie wonder how people would know which group owned it. Peter walked to a ¡°wall¡± and pushed. The fabric moved, but was hooked in place at the bottom. He unhooked it from the frame, pushing the sheet up and over the top of the tent. ¡°Very nice,¡± Chimeg said, doing the same to the next sheet over. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind living here.¡± ¡°Nop, is there a ten-minute hourglass?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Yes,¡± the raven answered. An hourglass appeared in front of her. ¡°Thank you.¡± Marie picked it up. ¡°Whoever is on guard duty: walk around the tent every ten minutes.¡± They all agreed, already relaxing in the shade. Back on the ship it was just past ten at night, and everyone was tired. ¡°Do you think anyone else will pass by?¡± Innoka asked Lydia. ¡°I¡¯d guess not, but you¡¯ve been here longer.¡± ¡°There might be a team or two wandering about,¡± Lydia said. ¡°Some might leave their areas to go raiding. And when morning comes people will make one last push to remove other groups.¡± ¡°Should we do that?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Leave in a few hours to raid?¡± ¡°No,¡± Chimeg said, looking at Lydia. ¡°Come morning we should fight. Foxes against Wasp. We¡¯re all still in the contest thanks to our truce with the Drifters, but to prove we aren¡¯t cheating we should fight before the end.¡± ¡°Two against one? That¡¯s hardly fair,¡± Lydia said. ¡°I¡¯m injured,¡± Innoka said, holding up her bandaged arm. ¡°Chimeg can take the wings off a fly with her crossbow, but she doesn¡¯t know how to use any weapon other than that.¡± Chimeg nodded. ¡°If you want someone else on principle, Sophie would do.¡± Sophie smiled, then realized she¡¯d been suggested because she had no fighting experience. She was useless in a fight. Peter had taught her how to hold a knife and make a fist, but that was about all. ¡°I¡¯m not lending you Sophie,¡± Marie said. ¡°We¡¯re not losing a team member to even out your battle.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Lydia said. ¡°If you arbitrate, that will be enough.¡± Marie nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±
It was Peter¡¯s turn to keep watch. On the ship the clocks read two in the morning, but here it was noon. The sun burned everything. Heat rose from the sand in visible waves, creating mirages. This wasn¡¯t his desert. He now knew how Marie had felt in the ocean. Peter got to his feet, staring into the distance. Something called to him. He took a step out of the shade, barely aware of his actions. He was¡­ a ghost. Peter had died in his desert, leaning against a tree. Whatever was happening now wasn¡¯t¡­ real. It couldn¡¯t be. He was dead, and his spirit was cursed to drift about the Earth. Peter realized he hadn¡¯t prayed since meeting the rostari. He tried to feel remorseful about that, but kept getting distracted by the desert¡¯s call. He stepped back into the tent, grabbed three canteens, and walked back out. A hot breeze played with the fringe of his poncho as he moved with long steps towards the horizon.
Razan woke with a searing pain on his hand. He jumped to his feet, grasping his wrist as he looked around. Sunlight poured into the tent, touching the area where his hand had been. He focused on his hand and saw the skin was dark red and already blistering. Cursing under his breath, Razan scanned the tent for whoever was keeping watch. Everyone was asleep, and Peter was missing. Razan stormed outside, ready to punch the cowboy. Or kick; his fingers wouldn¡¯t be able to form a fist. Peter wasn¡¯t there. Razan stomped around the outside of the tent, paused at the opening, and walked around again. Peter was completely gone. Deciding he didn¡¯t care, Razan cradled his burnt hand to his chest. He used his other hand to pull the sheets down, closing the tent. He secured them before carefully stepping over everyone to unfasten the sheets on the opposite side. After pushing them up to allow air in, Razan sat down and glared at a split blister. Nop had provided a box of medical supplies earlier, to bandage Innoka¡¯s arm. Razan had seen something in there for sunburns, and now he hoped it was a miracle salve. Marie sat up, turning to look at him questioningly. He held up his hand, and she immediately moved to his side. ¡°How the hell did that happen?¡± she asked, her voice quiet. ¡°Sun came into the tent,¡± Razan answered. ¡°Touched me as I slept.¡± She upended the medical box and spread everything out, cursing in accents that designated three languages. Razan clenched his good hand around his wrist, somehow calmed by the words. They validated his pain and worry. ¡°Your skin is already dead, all we can do is save the hand,¡± Marie said, holding up a small bottle. ¡°The pictures say this is for burns, aye?¡± He nodded. ¡°I believe so.¡± ¡°Good.¡± She pulled his hand towards her and paused. ¡°This will hurt like the devil.¡± Razan tensed as she squeezed cream from the bottle onto his skin. Marie gently rubbed it in, her fingers moving in small circles. He watched her for a few seconds. ¡°That doesn¡¯t hurt at all,¡± he said. ¡°It feels quite good, actually.¡± Marie turned his hand, massaging his knuckles. ¡°There was a chance it might. Felt it best to prepare you.¡± She squeezed more cream out. ¡°First contest I nearly died, second contest Sophie passed out. Now this. I wonder what will happen to Peter next contest¡­¡± She finished rubbing the cream in, then took a long bandage and, after dampening it, began wrapping his hand. Razan watched her expertly wind the cloth through and around his fingers, wondering where she¡¯d been trained. ¡°There,¡± she said, tying the end. ¡°Don¡¯t touch that until after lunch tomorrow.¡± ¡°Yes, Captain,¡± Razan said, bowing low. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°As you were.¡± She looked around. ¡°Where¡¯s Peter? Who¡¯s on guard?¡± He sat back up. ¡°I have no answer for either question.¡±
Peter walked. There was a big rock formation in the distance, and he was determined to reach it. The sun was so bright it wound back around to seeming dark. The air was so hot it moved like liquid. The hawk circling him in the sky could just as easily have been a vulture. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. And Peter felt more at peace than he had in weeks. He realized that on the ship there were always people around. Even when asleep in his room, Sophie would come in and take things. Most of the time he spent outside his room, he was with Marie or Sophie. And at no point in the contests had he been truly alone. Until now. Peter smiled, feeling the sand under his boots change. The ground was becoming firmer. During the war, Peter had spent a fair amount of time traveling between camps. Enemy camps tended to stay, at minimum, several hours away from each other. A distance of a day or two was preferred. And only an idiot would go in a straight line from one camp to another. Peter had passed full nights circumnavigating camps from both nations. During that time, the most important thing was that he not be seen. The desire to not be seen or noticed hadn¡¯t left him. He¡¯d craved time alone, and finally his need was being met. Eventually he reached the rock formation. It towered above him, red stone pockmarked from wind and rain. He had no doubt every living thing within a mile was somewhere in or around this monolith. That would include snakes and scorpions. Still, he knew snakes and scorpions. They were simple, straightforward, easy to understand. Not like humans. Peter made his way into the shade of the towering rock, wondering if there were any carvings or drawings at the top. Probably. Since the dawn of time people had climbed rocks in deserts only to draw stars and spirals on them. Some claimed the stars and spirals had meaning. Peter suspected they were the doodles of teenagers who just wanted to leave some mark on the world. He sat down on the sand, suddenly exhausted. He finished his second canteen of water and yawned. His internal clock told him it was some ungodly early hour of the morning. He was alone. He was safe. He was finally in a familiar environment. He fell asleep.
Sophie woke up to the sound of a gunshot. She sat up, wondering what was going on. Marie and Chimeg were at the tent¡¯s opening, focused on something outside. Razan was reloading Marie¡¯s rifle, a bandage around his left hand. Innoka and Lydia were peeking between the sheets that made the tent, looking for other attackers. ¡°Here,¡± Lydia called. ¡°Poisons. Rosa and Kesi.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t know them,¡± Marie said. ¡°Chimeg, if you don¡¯t mind¡­¡± Chimeg nodded, going to where Lydia was. Sophie took her place next to Marie, scanning the desert. ¡°Stay back, girl, we¡¯re facing a sniper,¡± Marie said softly. Sophie retreated. She looked around. ¡°Where¡¯s Peter?¡± ¡°No one knows,¡± Razan grumbled. ¡°He would be very useful in this-¡± He cut off with a yelp as an arrow came through at an angle, hitting him in the arm. Olive green paint stained his shirt. At the same time there was a cry from outside, where Chimeg was sending a barrage of crossbow bolts into the desert. ¡°Got one,¡± she reported. ¡°Other bitch keeps- Ha! Both down.¡± ¡°Well done,¡± Marie said. ¡°Sophie, watch north. Innoka, south. I have my eye on this man, we need to find the other.¡± ¡°Do we know there¡¯s another?¡± Lydia asked. ¡°This late in the game it¡¯s likely the team was already down to three.¡± ¡°It¡¯s best to overestimate the number of enemies than underestimate,¡± Razan said. ¡°Exactly,¡± Marie agreed, taking careful aim with a pistol. She hissed through her teeth. ¡°Too far.¡± Sophie looked through the sheets, scanning for people. She saw the man who¡¯d shot Razan, but no one else. Lydia walked over to Sophie and peeked out. ¡°Oh. That¡¯s Alex.¡± She smiled. ¡°I know something you don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Do tell,¡± Marie prompted. ¡°He thinks it¡¯s impolite to fight or hurt women.¡± She lifted her halberd. ¡°Let me take him.¡± Sophie watched as another arrow shot into the tent, barely missing Marie. Marie didn¡¯t even flinch. She raised her eyebrows at Lydia and motioned towards the man. ¡°Be my guest. I¡¯m not responsible for you.¡± Lydia bowed, then turned to Chimeg. ¡°Would you mind covering me?¡± Chimeg grinned, walking over and pushing Sophie out of the way. Sophie backed up, then went to stand behind Marie as Lydia walked out of the tent. The man on the dune stood. ¡°Wasp! What the hell are you doing in there?!¡± Lydia twirled her weapon gracefully. ¡°I was having a lovely nap, which you interrupted!¡± she called laughingly. ¡°Where¡¯s David?¡± ¡°Stars took him out hours ago,¡± Alex answered, readying an arrow. ¡°We got two of them, though, so I¡¯m not complaining.¡± He pulled his arm back and let it fly. Lydia moved to the side, knocking the arrow out of the air with her halberd. Chimeg let her bolt loose. The man recoiled as it hit. ¡°Ow! That¡¯s hardly fair!¡± ¡°Terribly sorry,¡± Lydia taunted. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize I was playing tag with a child!¡± Alex set his bow down, pulling a sword off his belt. He said something, but Sophie couldn¡¯t catch the words. Lydia replied, no longer shouting. Alex got into a fighting stance, then charged. Lydia dodged his strike, spinning to hit the back of his leg with her weapon. Alex fell to a knee, grabbed her ankle, and pulled her off-balance. He swung at her with his sword again, but she intercepted the blow with the shaft of her weapon. Chimeg took the opportunity to hit him in the back with another crossbow bolt. Alex yelped when it hit, spinning around to face the tent. Lydia scrambled to her feet, swinging her blade around to hit his shoulder. He cursed, staggering as blood poured out. A blue glow surrounded him, and he was gone. Sophie cheered the win, but stopped when Chimeg hit Lydia with a crossbow bolt. ¡°You¡¯re outside the neutral area,¡± Chimeg called to her. ¡°We are enemies.¡± Lydia glared, blocking a bolt with the blade of her halberd. Orange paint mixed with red blood as she spun the weapon around, stepping towards the tent. There was a bang next to Sophie, making her squeak and jump back. Innoka had fired Marie¡¯s rifle. She smiled apologetically, handing the weapon to its owner. Lydia, clutching her thigh where the ball of paint had hit, was unprepared for Chimeg¡¯s next bolt. She grinned, holding up her middle finger as blue light surrounded her. There was a pause as Sophie felt her heart rate slow. All possible enemies were gone. The fighting was over. Marie climbed to her feet, yawning. ¡°Well. That was exciting. I¡¯m going back to sleep.¡± She went to the wall and laid down, facing away from everyone. ¡°Whose turn is it for guard duty?¡± Innoka asked. ¡°I think it might be mine,¡± Sophie said. ¡°I¡¯m certainly awake enough to take it.¡± ¡°The job is yours,¡± Chimeg decreed, curling up around her crossbow. Razan cleared his throat. ¡°Going by the agreed schedule, we are in my time to guard.¡± ¡°But you took over Peter¡¯s turn,¡± Innoka told him, picking up the rifle to clean and reload. ¡°And you got hurt. Let Sophie start her turn early.¡± ¡°Yes, I don¡¯t mind,¡± Sophie said. ¡°How did you get hurt?¡± ¡°Shush,¡± Chimeg hissed. ¡°Sleep.¡± Razan and Innoka shared a smile, then he turned to Sophie and bowed. ¡°Thank you for starting early. I wish you luck.¡± ¡°Thanks! Good-night.¡± She settled down, staring out into the desert.
¡°There is now only one hour remaining in the contest.¡± Marie jolted awake at the announcement, looking around. Everyone else was sitting up as well, yawning in the heat. ¡°Will we get breakfast here or at home?¡± Innoka asked. Nop, standing in the center of the tent, hopped. ¡°Drinks are available. Food will be served once you return to the ship.¡± There was a chorus of ¡°thank you¡±s, and everyone requested tea. It arrived a few minutes later, and in the blazing heat the warm liquid felt cool. Marie looked at her cup, debating. The rostari were capable of many things. Surely¡­ ¡°Nop, would it be possible to get ice for the tea?¡± ¡°Of course!¡± she answered, and hopped back. A box appeared in front of her. Marie lifted the lid to find it full of ice pellets. She took one, looked it over, and popped it into her mouth. The water tasted sweet as it melted on her tongue, cooling her down. In her life Marie had hardly ever seen ice, and had never attempted to eat it. She crunched down on the piece in her mouth and found it somewhat addictive. She set her tea aside and began chewing ice like candy. Chimeg was the first to join her, then Sophie. Razan and Innoka stayed back, judging them. Marie didn¡¯t care. They¡¯d gone through three boxes of ice before Nop announced there was half an hour left. ¡°Think anyone else will come?¡± Sophie asked, glancing out the tent¡¯s opening. Razan and Innoka had taken it upon themselves to keep watch there, but Marie noticed they were mostly watching each other. ¡°Lydia said they might,¡± Marie said, sitting back. ¡°If they do, they''ll be cutting it very close.¡± Chimeg shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think anything will happen. The pads are two hours apart, so they would have had to leave about two hours ago. And then there¡¯s no promise whoever¡¯s on the next pad over won¡¯t have a truce with them. All that walking, in this heat, with no breakfast? No.¡± Marie found that argument logical. ¡°I¡¯d complain about stepping outside, never mind being asked to walk,¡± Sophie said. ¡°We¡¯re in agreement, then,¡± Marie nodded. ¡°No one¡¯s coming. Where¡¯s that game you all were playing earlier?¡±
Razan watched a hawk in the sky as it slowly circled closer. ¡°How much time is left?¡± he asked, glancing at Nop. ¡°Two minutes and thirty seconds,¡± the raven answered. ¡°It might be Peter,¡± Innoka guessed. ¡°Returning from wherever he went now that the danger is over.¡± ¡°He wouldn¡¯t hide,¡± Razan said off-handedly. ¡°He may be returning from aimless wanderings, though.¡± Behind them, Sophie cheered. ¡°And I win again! This is quite a fun game.¡± Razan rolled his eyes. ¡°Have you lost at all?¡± Innoka asked, turning towards them. ¡°No,¡± Marie answered flatly. ¡°Four games in a row,¡± Chimeg said, sounding exasperated. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just strategy,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Nothing complicated.¡± ¡°If it isn¡¯t complicated then why can¡¯t I beat you?¡± Chimeg demanded. ¡°Because I¡¯m the best,¡± Sophie said simply. ¡°Humble, too,¡± Marie said dryly. Razan smirked at that, looking back outside. Innoka turned back as well, and squinted at a spot on the sand. Razan followed her gaze, trying to see colors in the blinding sunlight. ¡°Is that¡­ brown?¡± Innoka asked. ¡°Brown or gold,¡± Razan said, standing to get a better look. ¡°One minute,¡± Nop announced. Razan suddenly realized that meant his time with Innoka was nearly over. ¡°Well, Foxes, it was a pleasure,¡± Marie said, getting to her feet. ¡°Indeed,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Likewise,¡± Chimeg agreed, leaning back. ¡°We benefited most from the truce, so I must thank you.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Innoka said softly, smiling at Razan. ¡°Thank you.¡± Razan bowed slightly. ¡°I enjoyed our time together. I hope we can continue this truce in the future.¡± Nop hopped. ¡°Thirty seconds.¡± Innoka ignored the bird. ¡°Of course. We should continue this¡­ friendship.¡± Chimeg folded her game board with a snap. ¡°Just kiss already,¡± she said, her grin audible. ¡°Please don¡¯t,¡± Nop said quickly. ¡°It is not recommended for people to be touching when the transport activates.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°Things can get fused,¡± the raven answered. ¡°Ten seconds.¡± Innoka¡¯s gold eyes sparkled as she smiled her catlike smile. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they¡¯re talking about, we¡¯re clearly only friends.¡± ¡°Yes, friends,¡± Razan agreed, keeping his face and tone neutral. ¡°Like Marie and Ebba.¡± Marie, who had been finishing her tea, choked and coughed. ¡°Five,¡± Nop said. Razan couldn¡¯t help but smile. He¡¯d guessed correctly, then¡­ ¡°Four.¡± Marie glared, taking a deep breath. ¡°Samurai, you-¡± ¡°Three.¡± She stopped, laughing faintly. ¡°Two.¡± Razan looked back at Innoka, wondering how quickly he could find her on the ship. ¡°One.¡± A blue glow surrounded them, and the desert vanished. 23 - Intis Watcher Inti''s Watcher Sophie twitched at the pins-and-needles feeling of being transported. When it ended she was back on the ship, in a room far cooler than the desert had been. Marie and Razan stood nearby, and Peter was sitting on the floor. ¡°There you are,¡± Marie said, looking at him. ¡°Where¡¯d you go?¡± Peter yawned, lifting his hat to run fingers through hair damp with sweat. ¡°Just¡­ took a walk.¡± Razan was frowning down at himself. He shook his arm, and sand fell off. His face showed this confirmed a grim suspicion. He shook each limb in turn, then brushed himself down, a pile of sand forming around him. Sophie knew she was equally covered in sand, but wished to scrape it off with a knife. And water. Mostly water. She turned towards the door, wondering if Marie would kill her for taking a shower first. Nop appeared, hopping to face the group. ¡°Please walk slowly through the exit, removing as much sand as possible as you go.¡± Sophie nodded, shaking her limbs as she stepped towards the door. ¡°What will you do with it?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Sell it,¡± the raven answered. ¡°To whom?¡± Sophie asked. Marie raised an eyebrow. ¡°Will we get the money?¡± ¡°Part of it, yes,¡± Nop told Marie, then turned to Sophie. ¡°There are people who collect such things. We auction it off.¡± ¡°That¡¯s only slightly disturbing,¡± Peter decided. ¡°I''ve heard of stranger collections,¡± Razan said. ¡°What else do you sell of ours?¡± Nop hesitated. ¡°Mostly hair. Old clothes. Broken weapons. If you paint or knit or something, those items can be sold. Occasionally there is a market for fingernail clippings, but that¡¯s only scientists. Oh, if ever you lose a tooth or finger, those can be sold for quite a bit.¡± Sophie shared a concerned look with Peter. ¡°The next time I lose a finger I shall keep that in mind,¡± Razan said flatly, heading for the door. ¡°I have a number of false teeth, can I sell those?¡± Marie asked. ¡°I don''t know,¡± Nop admitted. ¡°I''ll ask.¡± Sophie followed Razan to the door, not sure she wanted to know more about what could be sold. Or why. Marie helped Peter to his feet, saying something in a low voice. Sophie paused, glancing back. Peter looked apologetic, ashamed. Marie shot Sophie a glare, motioning to the exit. Sophie hurried out, taking the motion to mean she could have the first shower.
Peter finished lunch, wondering if he would be allowed to visit the desert again. He¡¯d liked that rock. He liked the heat and the sun. He wanted to explore more. Razan came out of his room, clearly just waking up from a nap. He yawned, holding up a bandaged hand to cover his mouth. Peter winced. ¡°Hey, uhm, sorry I¡­¡± Razan glanced over, his face neutral. ¡°Deserted your post?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He fiddled with his plate. ¡°It won''t happen again. Sorry.¡± ¡°Where did you go?¡± Razan asked, finding his lunch and bringing it to the table. ¡°Just¡­ out into the desert,¡± Peter shrugged. ¡°It¡­ called to me.¡± Razan looked interested. ¡°Did you meet anyone?¡± ¡°No, I just found a big rock and fell asleep in its shade.¡± ¡°Ah. Did you dream?¡± Peter hesitated. Thanks to him Razan¡¯s hand was burned, damaged. And the man didn''t seem to care. Marie had been near irate about it. Razan took a bite of his fish. ¡°If something called you into the desert and gave you a dream, it could be important.¡± ¡°I¡­ dreamt I was floating,¡± Peter admitted. ¡°Not really flying, just slowly drifting from one wall to another. It was lunchtime, but I couldn''t get to the kitchen. Kept floating in other directions.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± Razan said slowly. ¡°A dream like that could mean any number of things.¡± Peter didn''t really believe dreams had any meaning, but he wasn''t about to tell Razan that. ¡°Well, all four of us made it to the end,¡± Razan said, focusing on his food again. ¡°That''s the important thing. If you¡¯d died out there I would have been rather upset.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not mad about the hand?¡± Peter asked, his voice a whisper. Razan paused, turning his bandaged hand. ¡°No. I learned many things from the experience. The rostari have ways of completely numbing pain. And Captain Marie is a very good doctor.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± They were silent for a few moments before Razan asked, ¡°What does ¡®aye¡¯ mean? Captain Marie and Mr. Louis say it a lot, and it doesn''t translate.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an affirmative,¡± Peter said. ¡°It¡­ implies agreement more than ¡®yes¡¯ does, I think. ¡°Interesting. What language does it come from?¡± ¡°English, I think. Possibly French? English has many French words.¡± ¡°Do you speak French?¡± ¡°No, just English and Spanish.¡± Razan set down his chopsticks. ¡°You and Captain Marie knew each other before coming here, didn''t you?¡± Peter blinked in surprise. ¡°No, we¡¯d never met. I knew her reputation, though. She knows the¡­ political situation of where I grew up and worked. She knows how people treat people like me. And I think she just knows people.¡± ¡°What was her reputation?¡± Razan asked carefully. ¡°Well¡­¡± Peter thought his words over before answering. ¡°If you made a list of the top fifty worst things you can imagine a human doing to other humans¡­ she¡¯s done them. She¡¯s survived every type of death the combined efforts of five nations could throw at her. She began life with no fear and became twice as cunning with each passing year. I read her name in a report, and when I asked who she was, the answer was that she¡¯s a terrifying legend.¡± Razan hesitated. ¡°Has she killed children?¡± Marie¡¯s voice came from directly behind Peter. ¡°If you need someone to lose all attachment to life, having them watch their child die is the fastest way.¡± Peter spun in his chair to look at her. Her cold eyes were focused on Razan. ¡°That doesn''t answer the question,¡± Razan pointed out, his face similarly emotionless. Marie smiled ever so slightly. ¡°It depends entirely on what age you claim childhood ends. And if the question refers to me directly killing them or simply that my actions led to their deaths.¡± ¡°I retract the question,¡± Razan decided. ¡°Good lad,¡± she said, walking silently to the kitchen. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Would you ever kill someone here?¡± he asked instead. ¡°In this room? No.¡± She returned with a plate of food and took her seat across from Peter. ¡°There are two groups of people in this world. Us and Them. I protect us. I have no respect for the lives of them.¡± ¡°I must ask what makes Them, Them,¡± Razan said. ¡°Simple, they aren''t Us.¡± ¡°Ah, naturally,¡± Razan said sarcastically. Peter saw Marie glance at him. She knew he understood perfectly. ¡°It¡¯s a feeling, more than anything,¡± Peter told Razan. ¡°Due to coat color, skin color, language, gender¡­ anything, really. As long as there¡¯s something common between us that another person is in opposition to, that makes us.¡± ¡°That implies someone could belong to both groups,¡± Razan said. Marie nodded. ¡°A good spy belongs to all the groups at the same time.¡± Razan frowned, then looked at Peter. Peter shrugged. ¡°I wasn''t ever caught.¡± ¡°How are we talking about you now?¡± Razan asked. They looked at Marie, who was suddenly very focused on her lunch.
Razan looked over the options for long-distance communication. The distances were written in what he assumed were rostari measurements, which wasn''t helpful. There were a lot of technical terms that, even written in clear Japanese, he didn''t understand. His instinct was to just purchase the most expensive set, but it was 800 credits. He couldn''t justify that expense. Nop had said they¡¯d get 5 credits each for the sand they¡¯d brought back. He wasn''t sure why some things were paid individually while other things were paid by group, as the group only had one account. Perhaps there was some legal reason he would never learn. Regardless, until the results for the contest were announced, their group didn''t have 800 credits. He could, in theory, sell the clothes he¡¯d arrived in and get a decent sum. But Razan didn''t want to do that. He liked those clothes. Sophie came into the room and smiled when she saw him. ¡°The report is about to begin. What are you looking at?¡± ¡°Communication devices,¡± he said, moving aside for her to see. As she stepped up to the screen English words appeared beneath the Japanese ones. ¡°Expensive,¡± she decided. ¡°Yes, but they could be life-saving,¡± he said. ¡°Also this was one of your requirements for investigating the Masks.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, I¡¯d forgotten about that,¡± she said, frowning. He nodded. ¡°As you nearly died last week I chose to not bring it up. Are you sufficiently recovered now?¡± Sophie pouted. ¡°I want to see the report. I want to know how many groups got first place.¡± ¡°Shall we wait for a boring week, then?¡± Razan asked dryly. ¡°Yes. Please and thank you,¡± she answered primly. Razan looked at the screen, his face neutral. ¡°Shame we don''t have enough credits to buy these now, though. I''d like to practice using them.¡± ¡°Which set is best?¡± she asked. He pointed to the set that cost 700 credits. ¡°I believe these would suit our needs.¡± Sophie smirked. ¡°I''ll have them by tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°How?¡± he asked slowly. ¡°I have my ways.¡± ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I''m worried about.¡± She looked at him with big, innocent eyes. ¡°Why would you be worried?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re a thief.¡± ¡°Thief? Me? Good heavens, no, I would never steal. Especially not if I thought anyone would notice.¡± Razan watched her. ¡°Have you ever been caught?¡± ¡°Not since I was seven,¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°Well, people have figured out I was the one who took things. But they never saw me do it.¡± He shook his head, heading for the door. For his own safety he prayed her good luck continued.
Marie stood with her team, watching the report. This was the longest one so far, focusing on every single battle in chronological order. Group¡¯s placements were announced as they were wiped out. The wide array of fighting styles people had was on full display. Everyone seemed to know how they fought best, and tried to force fights to their advantage. Most people had ranged weapons as well as melee weapons, but there was no shortage of specialists. As they neared the end, Marie noticed a disparity between the damage possible with ranged weapons versus melee weapons. Swords and daggers cut, and cut deeply. A stab with a spear was just as potentially deadly as anywhere else. But pistols and crossbows only had the potential to bruise as they stained clothing. Even so, while everyone took fights with blades seriously, most aimed to do damage more than kill. People left their throats open, but their opponents didn''t strike. No one struck directly into the gut. Marie made a mental note to adjust her fighting style to do damage without risking death. Finally the review reached the end of the contest. The announcer listed off teams with one contestant left as all having fourth place. Teams with two left were in third place, three people meant second place, and finally the winners were announced. ¡°This time, three teams got first place! Those are¡­ The Bees! The Parrots! And the Drifters!¡± Cheering broke out. Marie cheered out of politeness for the other two groups. The announcer gave a few closing remarks as groups broke up and everyone discussed the contest. Sophie went to find Rani as Innoka and Chimeg approached Razan. Louis and Ebba came from the other direction, stopping next to Marie. ¡°Well done,¡± Louis said, beaming. ¡°I wish I could say the same for you,¡± Marie told Ebba. ¡°Bailing because of a scorpion?¡± ¡°It was huge!¡± Ebba protested. ¡°There aren''t insects that large in Sweden. I feel no shame in having escaped unharmed from a lethal situation.¡± ¡°It was quite large,¡± Louis agreed. ¡°The stinger was as fat as my thumb.¡± Marie patted Ebba¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Fears are nothing to be ashamed of, but next time let Louis deal with the threat.¡± ¡°Yes, I don''t get to play hero nearly as much as I''d like,¡± he said. ¡°You aren''t frightened of bugs at all?¡± Ebba asked. ¡°My dear, Marie isn¡¯t afraid of anything physical,¡± Louis said. Marie glared at him. ¡°Indeed, ghosts terrify me.¡± ¡°No, I meant emotions,¡± he said charmingly. ¡°You''d much rather stab someone to death than talk about how you feel.¡± ¡°Ah, something you have in common, how sweet,¡± Ebba said. Marie suddenly realized Peter was gone. Sophie was at a table in a cluster of girls with Rani, and an annoyed Antoni had joined the group around Razan. But the cowboy was nowhere to be seen. It struck her that Peter had no friends outside their group. He got along well with them, but he¡¯d made no effort to communicate with anyone else. Marie wondered if she ought to push him to make more acquaintances. ¡°How do you plan to celebrate your win?¡± Louis asked, touching Marie¡¯s arm. She raised her eyebrows. ¡°I haven''t thought about it. What would you recommend?¡± Ebba linked arms with her. ¡°I may have a suggestion or two. Come with us.¡± ¡°That isn''t suspicious in the least,¡± Marie said, grinning. ¡°Lead the way.¡±
Peter focused, holding his knife at the ready. He made a few feints at his target, a scarred tree trunk. Finally he struck, digging the knife through bark into solid wood. The strike was good, but he felt weak. His muscles simply didn''t have enough strength to do real damage. Peter sighed. He hated close combat. It looked like using ranged weapons wasn''t something he could always do, so he¡¯d have to practice with knives and get strong. ¡°That¡¯d never hit a real opponent, mate.¡± Peter jumped, spinning around. He hadn¡¯t thought anyone would come in here after the report. Grace smiled, walking up to him. She stopped a pace away, looking him over. ¡°Is that actually a garment, or do you just wear your security blanket?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a poncho,¡± he said, bristling. ¡°It¡¯s not unique.¡± ¡°Sure. I''ve never seen anyone wear a bl- poncho, but that doesn''t mean it isn''t common.¡± She reached out, and he took a step back. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, cowboy?¡± ¡°I''d appreciate it if you didn''t touch me.¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯d appreciate it?¡± Grace asked, grinning. ¡°All right, no worries, just stop me.¡± She put her hands on his chest and shoved him back against the tree trunk. It wobbled as he brought his knife up, only to have his wrist caught and twisted painfully back. The knife clattered to the ground as Grace easily held him in place. Peter glared, trying to not breathe. She unknowingly had her hand right over a healing bone; he couldn''t move. Suddenly a rope went around her throat and tightened. Grace let go of Peter, stumbling back as she clawed at the rope. Sophie was on her back, feet pushing against the larger woman¡¯s hips. She twisted the rope tighter, completely focused. Grace fell to her knees, holding her hands up. Sophie jumped to the ground, still loosely holding her rope. Grace coughed, looking up. ¡°Damn, girl, didn''t think you came from the streets.¡± Sophie almost replied, then caught Peter¡¯s eye. The move she¡¯d used was one Marie had used on him. He shook his head, hoping she understood to not explain. ¡°How dare you insinuate such a thing,¡± Sophie said haughtily, snatching Peter¡¯s knife off the floor. ¡°I am Miss Sophia Cadbury, eldest daughter to the Duke of Cadbury, and you¡¯d best remember that.¡± She knelt down, pressing the tip of the knife into Grace¡¯s forehead. ¡°You¡¯d also best remember Peter is mine.¡± Grace laughed, glancing at Peter. ¡°Yes, my lady,¡± she said, her accent changing into a coarse mockery of Sophie¡¯s accent. ¡°I were just a bit confused. I didn''t have no learnin¡¯. No one taught me right from wrong, I carn''t help it.¡± Sophie stood up, dropping the rope as she handed Peter his knife. ¡°Well, now you know.¡± She spun on her heel and walked away, not looking back. ¡°Well.¡± Grace pushed herself to her feet, her accent back to normal. ¡°Can''t tell if her confidence comes from strength or stupidity.¡± Peter was fairly certain Sophie was just doing what she thought Marie would do, but decided to not say that out loud. Grace looked at Peter again. ¡°You''ve got technique but nothin¡¯ to back it up with. Eat good and push yourself. That¡¯s what this place was built for.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, still suspicious. ¡°And when Miss Sophia breaks your heart, come to me and I''ll mend it,¡± she said with a wink. Peter hesitated as she started to walk away. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®when¡¯?¡± Grace turned around, smiling as she walked backwards toward the door. ¡°She¡¯s a thief. Thieves get bored quickly.¡± She stepped through the exit and was gone. Peter glared at the door for a few seconds before spinning and stabbing his knife deep into the tree trunk. 24 - Intis Watcher Inti''s Watcher ¡°After the excitement of last week, this week we¡¯re doing something nice and relaxing,¡± Nop announced. ¡°Moon maze!¡± Razan frowned. Moon? ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Nop continued, ¡°we¡¯re taking everyone back to the dark side of your moon! Last time we used the maze only two groups found the center, so we won''t be adjusting anything. However, we will be instituting a time limit. Instead of seeing how long it takes before you give up in defeat, we¡¯ll see how close to the exit you get in four hours! You will be given no equipment other than what you need to breathe. For this contest it isn''t necessary for your whole group to enter, but all participating members of a group have to reach the center for it to count as a complete win. As always, let us know by tonight if you¡¯re joining!¡± ¡°That sounds fun,¡± Sophie said. ¡°I''d like to join.¡± ¡°Same,¡± Razan agreed. He¡¯d join only to see what the hidden side of the moon looked like. Marie looked thoughtful. ¡°What are the walls and ceiling made of?¡± ¡°Part of the maze has no ceiling,¡± Nop told her. ¡°Everything is made of stone. Climbing over the walls is against the rules, and will be penalized.¡± ¡°Climbing over?¡± Marie echoed. Razan kept his face neutral. If only climbing over was forbidden, that meant looking over them was perfectly fine. ¡°Yes,¡± the raven said, bobbing. ¡°The walls are as tall as the ceilings here, and the corridors are sixteen ban- are just wide enough for two humans to walk side-by-side through.¡± ¡°Sounds interesting enough,¡± Marie decided. ¡°I''ll join.¡± They all looked at Peter. ¡°I''d rather not,¡± he said in a whisper. ¡°If it¡¯s necessary I will, but¡­¡± He caught Marie¡¯s eye. She nodded curtly. ¡°Sophie, Razan and I will join,¡± she said. ¡°Very well,¡± Nop said, and went still for a few seconds. ¡°You have been assigned to Area 1 in Batch 2. Batch 2 will be transported over at 1pm on Friday. When you return you will not be allowed to communicate with other groups until the last batch is sent to the moon. This is to prevent cheating.¡± ¡°Will we be allowed to mark the walls?¡± Marie asked. ¡°Of course. You may mark your path in any way you choose; we will clean everything before the next batch arrives.¡± ¡°Perfect.¡± ¡°Are we allowed to bring anything we wish into the maze?¡± Razan asked. ¡°Anything that fits into a backpack, yes.¡± He nodded. ¡°Any other questions?¡± the raven asked, looking at Sophie. ¡°What about breaking through the walls?¡± she asked. ¡°Is that penalized, too?¡± Nop was still for another few seconds. ¡°If you manage to break through the walls, we will be so impressed we won¡¯t penalize you.¡± Marie laughed. ¡°Understood.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all my questions,¡± Sophie shrugged, grinning. ¡°Very well,¡± Nop said. ¡°If you have any further questions, feel free to ask.¡± The raven hopped off the table and went to its space in the wall. Razan got up, heading to the kitchen to make more tea. ¡°Why don''t you want to join?¡± Sophie asked Peter. Razan pretended to pay no attention. ¡°I don''t like¡­ stone walls in close proximity that I can''t get out of,¡± Peter said carefully. ¡°Cowboys need to roam,¡± Marie added. Razan paused. Technically, Peter¡¯s description could be two things. Curiosity overrode years of training. ¡°Did you get stuck in a ravine?¡± he asked, ashamed of himself for caring. Peter looked over in surprise. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°How?¡± Sophie asked. ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡± Which meant he¡¯d probably been thrown in. ¡°How did you get out?¡± Sophie persisted. ¡°Someone pulled me out.¡± ¡°Friends?¡± Peter looked embarrassed. ¡°Uhm¡­ no.¡± ¡°Leave it, girl,¡± Marie ordered, pushing herself to her feet. ¡°Let¡¯s see what paints are available to us.¡± ¡°Oh, yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Sophie said, jumping up. Razan watched them leave, taking his cup to the table. ¡°Thank you for not asking if I''d been in jail,¡± Peter said, getting to his feet as Razan sat down. ¡°The one who¡¯s been imprisoned multiple times is Marie,¡± Razan said, his voice neutral. ¡°You¡¯re clearly an upstanding citizen who has never done anything to warrant being locked up.¡± Peter hesitated, then moved to the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. ¡°Right. Clearly.¡±
Sophie followed Marie to the correspondence room. It sold everything paper- and pen-related, aside from sending and receiving mail. Sophie wasn''t sure how they got the mail, and wasn''t sure she wanted to know. Once she had an address she could give her relatives, she¡¯d have to give it to them. That would mean her mother could write to her. Sophie didn''t want that. She looked at Marie. ¡°Have you sent anything to anyone?¡± ¡°No,¡± Marie said, and paused. ¡°The only person I''d care to write is safer thinking I''m dead.¡± ¡°How sad.¡± ¡°It¡¯s for the best,¡± she said, somehow standing even straighter. Sophie went to the screen that sold paints and scrolled through the color options. ¡°What will we need?¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Something bright,¡± Marie decided. ¡°There¡¯s one¡­ Here!¡± Sophie stopped at a color. ¡°It glows in the dark!¡± ¡°Glows in the dark?¡± Marie echoed. ¡°That¡¯s what it says, at least. I haven''t tried it.¡± Marie frowned. ¡°I wouldn''t trust it. It¡¯s too close to white.¡± She moved through the colors, finally landing on the most outrageously bright pink Sophie had ever seen. ¡°This color.¡± Sophie glanced at her. ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a color we¡¯d be able to see miles away. It¡¯s perfect,¡± Marie decided. ¡°You¡¯re the captain,¡± Sophie shrugged, touching it. The screen changed to show types of paint available in that color. ¡°Do we want to carry buckets of paint around?¡± ¡°Not particularly,¡± Marie said. The door opened, and Paola came in. She waved, walking over. ¡°Looking for something to mark walls with?¡± she guessed. ¡°Yes,¡± Marie said, smiling. ¡°Any recommendations?¡± ¡°Here.¡± She moved over, went to the main screen, scrolled down, and chose a thick pen. The description popped up. ¡°These will mark on anything as long as it¡¯s dry. They don''t have a lot of paint in them, so get a dozen or so to be safe.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Marie said. ¡°Does everyone have these?¡± ¡°No,¡± Paola said. ¡°Some leave rocks or other markers. A few violent people bring axes and hack parts of the wall off.¡± ¡°That sounds like it would damage the weapon,¡± Marie said. ¡°It does, but it''s also very fun.¡± Sophie scrolled through the colors available for the pen and found bright pink. ¡°We¡¯ll buy twelve, then?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Marie confirmed, then turned back to Paola. ¡°You were going to show me where you got your hair done. Would you have time now?¡± Paola smiled. ¡°In three minutes; I need to buy a few things.¡± ¡°Of course, take your time.¡± Sophie frowned, feeling a twinge of jealousy. Marie was her friend, not Paola¡¯s. Sure, Marie had friends with old people, but Paola looked younger than Razan. For some reason Sophie felt that Marie shouldn''t be friends with other young people. Marie looked at her. ¡°If you can, go find Rani and ask the best way to get through the maze. I''ll have Razan ask his group tomorrow, and we¡¯ll consolidate the information.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Sophie said. ¡°Oh, Rani isn''t going to be here this week,¡± Paola said. ¡°There¡¯s some festival in her home town she¡¯s going to. She¡¯s leaving tomorrow morning, so she¡¯s packing right now.¡± Sophie thanked her before heading out. All her friends were leaving or making other friends. It wasn''t fair. Well, at least she had Peter.
Peter sighed, knocking on the Seabird¡¯s door. After a few seconds Grace opened it. She grinned, looking him over. ¡°Need help with something, Poncho?¡± He bristled again, then sighed. ¡°Yes, Blondie, I need help¡­ getting stronger.¡± ¡°And you came to me? How sweet,¡± she jeered. ¡°Never mind,¡± he decided, turning away. ¡°No, no, wait,¡± Grace said, reaching out. He twitched away, pulling his arms under his poncho. She paused, squinting at him. ¡°You gave up far too quickly. You know how to fight, you say you don''t want me to touch you, but you don''t struggle. Why?¡± ¡°I-¡± He stopped, glaring at the door frame. ¡°I have five broken ribs.¡± ¡°Five¡­ How?¡± Peter glanced around, lowering his voice even further. ¡°A man tried introducing his boot to my lung.¡± ¡°Let me get this straight,¡± she said, crossing her arms. ¡°You climbed a mountain. You swam around a reef. And you fought in a desert. All with five broken ribs?¡± He nodded. ¡°Damn. Impressive.¡± ¡°What was I supposed to do, not join?¡± he countered. ¡°Hey, just because the sun comes up every day doesn''t mean there¡¯s no beauty in a sunrise,¡± she told him. ¡°Just because you were doing what you had to do doesn''t mean I can''t be impressed. Besides, you could have weaseled out of all three contests. You ain''t weak at all.¡± Peter shook his head. ¡°I am weak. I''ve spent so much time¡­ recovering that my muscles have gone soft. I need to build arm strength without putting pressure on my ribs. If that''s possible.¡± ¡°It isn''t,¡± Grace said. ¡°Leg strength maybe, but breathing will hurt your ribs, so anything that makes ya breathe more will hurt.¡± She watched him. ¡°Are the ribs all that¡¯s broken?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Had a few things out of place but they were put back when I got here.¡± ¡°Like what?¡± ¡°Wrist. Shoulder. ¡­Teeth¡­ Spine, apparently¡­¡± ¡°What-¡± She stopped herself. ¡°No, there''s no use asking that. I''d say you need to wait until your ribs are healed to try anything.¡± ¡°I can''t,¡± he said. ¡°People are starting to notice I don''t do anything. I don''t spend all day sleeping any more, so I have to let people see I can fight.¡± Grace frowned, thinking. ¡°No, people are starting to notice you haven''t spoken to anyone outside your group. We¡¯ve all seen you fight on the review. I saw you fight, briefly, on the reef. I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but you acted so defensive I had to take it as a challenge. Then Sophie came in and I thought she had you needing permission to talk to anyone.¡± ¡°No, I''m just tired and in pain,¡± Peter admitted. ¡°I don''t particularly want to talk to people.¡± ¡°Well now I know,¡± she said. ¡°Wait another week, then tell people that. Tell them your ribs were broken. Tell them you were sleeping fourteen hours a day, but are better now.¡± He looked away, hating the idea. ¡°Actually, this week we won''t be fightin¡¯. No harm in telling people now,¡± Grace said. ¡°Hell, they¡¯ll be impressed more than anything.¡± She stepped aside, motioning into her group¡¯s area. ¡°Let me tell my group. You¡¯ll see.¡± Peter hesitated, then nodded. She grinned, grabbed the fringe of his poncho, and dragged him inside. ¡°Fael, Juan, this man has five broken ribs,¡± she announced in an amazed voice. ¡°And his wrist and shoulder were put out when he got here!¡± ¡°What, seriously?¡± Juan asked, staring. The two men were at the table, playing cards. ¡°You scaled a cliff with a recently-dislocated shoulder?¡± ¡°You swam in the reef with broken ribs?¡± Fael asked, frowning. ¡°I would not have allowed that.¡± ¡°I know!¡± Grace said cheerfully. ¡°He wants my help getting strong again.¡± ¡°Not yet,¡± Fael said. ¡°You don''t want to slow the healing process by pushing yourself. In fact, I''d suggest you not join this week¡¯s contest. The jumping required would not be good for you.¡± Peter blinked, caught off-guard. ¡°Jumping?¡± ¡°Yes, getting from one level of the maze to the next would be painful for you,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re new,¡± Grace told Fael, then turned to Peter. ¡°Mazes always have multiple levels. We¡¯re dropped at the top and have to get to the bottom. There¡¯s never any stairs; to get up and down you have to climb and jump.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ glad someone told me. I''ll let Marie know.¡± He hesitated, glancing at Fael. ¡°And I''ll¡­ request to not join.¡± Fael nodded, approving. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°I''m still impressed,¡± Juan said. ¡°How many painkillers do you take each day?¡± ¡°I, uhm, three.¡± He nodded knowingly. ¡°The ones you have to take after eating? Those are strong. They¡¯ll probably switch you to the weak ones soon. Those don''t need to be taken with food, but they wear off fast.¡± ¡°You''ve had them before?¡± Peter guessed. ¡°Everyone has had them,¡± Grace told him. ¡°We all run around getting stabbed and breaking limbs on a regular basis.¡± ¡°Knowing how to manage injured teammates is an important part of a group leader¡¯s role,¡± Fael said. ¡°The rostari will pull you out of a contest if death is imminent, but not before. Even being knocked unconscious won''t always get you removed.¡± ¡°Living here is exciting,¡± Juan added. ¡°No one will ever say it¡¯s safe.¡± ¡°It¡¯s safe enough if you know how to handle yourself,¡± Grace said. Her teammates both gave her unamused glances. She pretended not to see. ¡°And if you don''t get easily distracted.¡± ¡°I''ll keep that in mind,¡± Peter promised. He looked at Fael. ¡°So, when would you recommend I start exercising? I don''t like feeling this weak.¡± ¡°At minimum wait until you¡¯re off the strong painkillers,¡± the man said, smoothing his moustache. ¡°Grace, give him that thing you have for grip strength. That shouldn¡¯t hurt.¡± She nodded, going to her room. ¡°Marie has your group on some sort of endurance training, yes?¡± Fael asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°That should be enough for now, then,¡± he decided. ¡°Once you aren''t in pain Grace and Juan can show you their routine.¡± ¡°We can show it to you whenever you like,¡± Juan said. ¡°You just shouldn''t join until you¡¯re healed.¡± Grace came back, holding out what looked like if scissors and a spring had a baby. ¡°This is the medium strength. I¡¯ve got a stronger one if it gets too easy.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Peter said, taking it. He gave it a few experimental squeezes. ¡°Fun.¡± ¡°Do you play?¡± Juan asked, motioning to the cards. Peter smiled. ¡°Maybe. What game?¡± 25 - Intis Watcher Inti''s Watcher Razan sat in the common area, watching the arrow on his new communication device. The palm-sized square had three buttons and a dial. One button made the sound it produced louder, one made the sound quieter, and one had to be held down when he spoke. The dial activated the arrow, which pointed in the direction of the other three devices. Currently, the arrow was set to find Sophie¡¯s device. It was pointing almost straight up. Innoka walked over and sat next to him. ¡°New toy?¡± she guessed, smiling. He smiled back, turning the dial off. ¡°Yes. Learning how to use them before the contest.¡± ¡°They are very useful,¡± Innoka said. ¡°Ours are the cheapest, though, and don''t work very well.¡± Sophie¡¯s voice came over the device. ¡°Hello, Innoka, you¡¯re looking lovely today.¡± Innoka looked around, trying to spot her. It took all of Razan¡¯s self-control to not look up. ¡°I thought you were trying to be sneaky,¡± he said into the device. ¡°I am,¡± the girl said. ¡°Don''t worry, no one can see me.¡± He sighed, and Innoka turned back to him. ¡°Where is she?¡± she asked. Razan held down the talk button. ¡°Somewhere she isn''t supposed to be.¡± ¡°Somewhere dark and surprisingly cold,¡± Sophie added. Innoka laughed, looking around again. ¡°The swimming room?¡± ¡°Nope!¡± Razan let go of the button and slid the device into his pocket. ¡°Don''t look up. She¡¯s in the ceiling.¡± ¡°The- How?¡± Innoka asked, moving closer as she lowered her voice. ¡°I¡¯ve found it¡¯s safer to not ask how Sophie gets anywhere,¡± Razan said flatly. Innoka grinned. ¡°You poor man, having to babysit a little sister.¡± ¡°I take no responsibility,¡± he said. ¡°If she dies, it won''t be my fault. Changing the subject, you promised me you would teach me the art of arm wrestling. Would you have time to do so now?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Innoka said. She moved to sit across from him, putting her elbow on the table. ¡°Take my hand.¡± Razan reached out, taking her hand in the common handshake grip. ¡°No, like this,¡± she said, adjusting his hand and arm. ¡°The goal is to push your knuckles against the table.¡± ¡°I see,¡± he said as she pushed his arm down. ¡°How impolite would it be to use this game as an excuse to hold your hand?¡± She looked at him, her golden eyes dancing. ¡°Not impolite at all.¡± ¡°Good.¡± He lifted their hands back up, smiling faintly. ¡°Of course, it would probably be more polite of me to simply ask if I may hold your hand.¡± ¡°It would be,¡± she agreed. ¡°Who knows, I might even agree to let you.¡± Razan tightened his grip, his gaze drifting down to her catlike smile. And then down to the long black braid hanging over her shoulder. And then down to the top of her cream-colored dress, the fabric snug around her breasts, not quite thick enough to hide- He realized the silence had gone on too long and looked back into her eyes. ¡°May I call you by your name?¡± Innoka blinked, confused. ¡°What else would you call me?¡± ¡°May I use your name by itself,¡± Razan clarified. ¡°May I simply call you Innoka?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± she said, and paused. ¡°Does your culture not use names?¡± ¡°We use family names, usually with an honorific,¡± he explained. ¡°Not¡­ the names they use here.¡± ¡°I see. Then, may I call you by your name?¡± Innoka asked. ¡°I would be honored if you did,¡± he said, bowing. She smiled again. ¡°Thank you.¡± She bowed as well, her fingers tightening around his hand. ¡°What is your family name?¡± ¡°Miyamoto.¡± ¡°A good name, but I prefer Razan,¡± Innoka decided. ¡°May I ask your family name?¡± Razan asked. She opened her mouth to answer, then stopped, all happiness draining from her face. ¡°Hello,¡± Antoni said, walking up behind Razan. ¡°Arm wrestling, are you?¡± Razan turned to look at him impassively. ¡°Yes. Innoka was teaching me.¡± ¡°That must be why neither of you have moved for five minutes,¡± Antoni decided. He pulled a chair around to sit next to Innoka and put his elbow on the table. ¡°She¡¯s a very slow teacher. Wrestle with me.¡± Razan didn''t reply, not letting go of Innoka¡¯s hand. ¡°Wrestle. Me,¡± Antoni ordered. Razan let go of Innoka¡¯s hand, beginning to be worried about her safety if he refused. He took Antoni¡¯s hand, careful to keep his face neutral. ¡°Good,¡± the blonde man said, and turned to smile at Innoka. ¡°My heart, would you count down for us?¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Five¡­ Four¡­ Three¡­ Two-¡± Razan slammed Antoni¡¯s hand onto the table. He felt his knuckles bruise, but the look of outrage on the man¡¯s face was worth it. ¡°What! You! Cheater,¡± Antoni hissed, jumping to his feet. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Razan asked, completely neutral. ¡°Games always start at two. Isn''t that so in your culture?¡± ¡°No! What kind of stupid people would-¡± Razan shot up and punched Antoni straight in the nose. His knuckles bruised more as the nose snapped. ¡°Do not call my people stupid,¡± he snarled, truly upset. ¡°We are strong and proud. You may insult me but if you dare insult my nation again I will take your life.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Antoni was about to respond, but paled as he looked around. Razan finally noticed five large hawks circling them. ¡°Fighting is not allowed in the common area,¡± one announced. ¡°I didn-¡± ¡°Fighting is not allowed in the common area,¡± two birds said. Razan stepped back and bowed. ¡°My apologies.¡± Antoni didn''t understand. ¡°He broke-¡± Three hawks interrupted. ¡°Fighting is not allowed in the common area.¡± Razan stared at the floor, holding the bow. He wanted to see Antoni¡¯s face, but knew better than to look up. ¡°This-¡± ¡°Fighting is not allowed in the common area,¡± four hawks said. Antoni huffed, stomping off. There was a pause, then one hawk said, ¡°You may stand.¡± Razan nodded, straightening up. Everyone in the area was staring in his direction. Innoka looked worried, and Marie had taken his chair. ¡°Masterfully done, Samurai,¡± the pirate said. ¡°Valid excuse. Clean hit. Responded perfectly to authority. I commend you. Now go get your hand looked at. Can''t have both your hands damaged at once.¡± He hesitated, glancing at Innoka, then bowed again. ¡°Yes, Captain.¡±
Sophie cursed softly, trying to unscrew a grate from the inside. She hadn''t brought the right tools, and her fingernails weren¡¯t doing the trick. In the room on the other side of the grate, the door opened and Razan walked in. He paused, taking his shoes off, then looked up. Sophie waved, smiling brightly. ¡°Why.¡± She twisted at a screw. ¡°I admit my mistakes when I make them: I am slightly stuck. Would you please help?¡± ¡°How are you stuck?¡± he asked, finding a knife before standing on his bed. ¡°You fit into your vent just fine.¡± ¡°Oh, no, I''m not caught on anything, I just can''t get the grate off,¡± she said. ¡°The screws are different here than in my room, for some reason.¡± He frowned, focusing. Sophie saw the screws vanish as he twisted with his knife. He took the grate away, and she thanked him, backing up. ¡°I now wonder why I''m helping you,¡± Razan called as she carefully turned around. Sophie backed out, dropping neatly onto his bed. ¡°Because if you help me then at least you know what I''m doing,¡± she said, grinning. ¡°Excellent point.¡± ¡°How¡¯s your hand?¡± she asked casually, hopping to the floor. Razan held up two freshly-bandaged hands. ¡°Which one?¡± ¡°The one you used to punch Antoni in the face with,¡± she specified. He shrugged. ¡°I''ve done worse. As long as I don''t do anything stupid it should be fine for the competition.¡± ¡°Wonderful.¡± She pulled the chain spear off her belt, walking to the bathroom door. ¡°Do me a favor? I¡¯m going to try opening this door from the inside. If it doesn''t work, would you let me out?¡± ¡°Only if I''m allowed to laugh at you and tell Marie you got trapped in my bathroom,¡± he said, his face and tone neutral. Sophie rolled her eyes. ¡°I accept your conditions. Thank you.¡± With that she stepped inside, letting the door close behind her. She suspected the door opened when it saw motion. The inside only opened to the person who owned the adjoining room, but the room side opened no matter who was there. If it didn''t care who was there, only that someone was moving towards it, Sophie might be able to trick it into thinking her spear was a person. She adjusted the angle of her chain spear, straightened it, and pushed it through into Razan¡¯s room. Then she slid the lever on the handle up, making the chain bend to the angle she¡¯d wanted. She twisted the handle slowly, then faster when nothing happened. Still nothing happened. Sophie straightened it again and pulled it back. Frowning, she pushed the lever up and studied the angle. Maybe¡­ She set the angle to ninety degrees, straightened it, and pushed it through to the other side of the door again. Then she slid the lever up and slowly spun the handle back and forth, pushing it further from the door. Just before she gave up, something in the door clicked. It slid up. Razan, now sitting at his desk, clapped politely. ¡°Congratulations, you now know how to open bathroom doors.¡± Sophie beamed, then paused. ¡°Did you open it?¡± ¡°No, that would have required moving,¡± Razan answered. ¡°True.¡± She smiled again as the door began to close. ¡°Thank you for your assistance.¡± The door was shut before he could reply. Turning to the bathroom¡¯s other door, Sophie walked over and slid her spear through. She slid the lever up and twisted the handle slowly. The door almost immediately clicked, rising to show Peter sitting on his bed. For once he wasn''t wearing a poncho. He looked surprised, then confused. ¡°Is that how you get in here?¡± he asked. Sophie walked over and sat next to him. ¡°Not usually. I was just testing the doors.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± He frowned. ¡°How did you get into the bathroom?¡± ¡°That is a secret,¡± she said, kissing his cheek. Peter smiled. ¡°What do I have to do for you to tell me your secrets?¡± ¡°Tell me all your secrets first,¡± Sophie replied. She saw his smile drop and looked around, pretending to not have seen. ¡°Secrets like¡­ why didn''t you ask for any furniture other than a chest?¡± ¡°I don''t need any,¡± he told her. ¡°Do I?¡± ¡°I suppose not. Marie has a sea chest; she keeps it at the foot of her bed, same as you. Is there a reason for keeping chests in that spot?¡± He debated. ¡°Not here, I guess. Chests are put at the foot of each bed in barracks so everyone knows who it belongs to. Might be the same on ships.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Sophie said, nodding. ¡°Would you like to see my chest?¡± ¡°Uhm, sure,¡± he said, slightly confused as she bounced to her feet. ¡°What type of¡­¡± Peter trailed off as she pulled her shirt off. Sophie smiled, watching him trying to not stare and failing miserably. He tried to speak and failed at that, too. Laughing, Sophie moved into his lap. She kissed him, her fingers working to unbutton his shirt. He kissed her back, his hands going to her bare waist. There was an intensity to his movements that she hadn''t felt before, and she didn''t want it to stop. Suddenly he broke away, pushing her back. She cried out in protest, leaning towards him, and he put his hands on her shoulders. ¡°Sophie, I can''t- I''m about to lose control,¡± he told her. ¡°If you stay, I¡­¡± She put her hands over his and slid them down, smiling. ¡°Peter. What do you think I was expecting when I took my shirt off?¡± He was silent for a few seconds, caressing her, then his eyes snapped up to hers. ¡°Damn it all to hell, I love you,¡± he said, laying her down onto the bed.
Nop hopped onto the table as Peter was finishing breakfast. ¡°Hello,¡± she said. ¡°Now that you have been here a few weeks, we have some questions.¡± Peter sat up, curious. Next to him, Razan also sat up. Sophie, on his other side, yawned and stretched. Marie, who had been getting tea, took her seat across from him. ¡°Firstly, are you all enjoying your lives here?¡± Nop asked. Everyone agreed that they were content on the ship. ¡°Thank you. Do you feel you work well as a group?¡± Peter glanced at Sophie, smiling as he agreed they worked very well together. Sophie agreed, then took a sip of his coffee to hide a grin. ¡°Thank you,¡± Nop repeated. ¡°Do you have any complaints about anything specific? Is there anything that bothers you?¡± They all debated. ¡°The targets in the shooting range are too close,¡± Peter said, proving he was capable of thinking about things that weren''t Sophie. ¡°That¡¯s about it.¡± ¡°Bed''s too soft,¡± Marie said. ¡°I agree with that,¡± Razan added. ¡°Also there aren¡¯t any training weapons available. Only real blades.¡± ¡°The rocks in the climbing room never change,¡± Sophie said. ¡°There¡¯s no challenge once you know the pattern.¡± ¡°We can replace your beds if you wish,¡± Nop said. ¡°I will report the other three issues.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Marie said as Razan bowed. ¡°Lastly, we watch people on your planet,¡± Nop said. ¡°Is there anyone you know of whose lives are interesting, who you would suggest we watch?¡± Again, they debated. Peter was about to suggest some military general or other, then noticed Marie¡¯s hands curl into fists. ¡°Can people here see the people you watch?¡± she asked. Nop hesitated. ¡°Yes.¡± Marie nodded, breathing hard. ¡°Why did you decide to rescue us? There are several empty rooms, what was the catalyst that made you decide now was the time to bring a new group in?¡± Nop went still for a few seconds. And then a few seconds more. Marie slammed her fists on the table, pushing herself to her feet. ¡°Tell me!¡± she demanded, her voice cracking. ¡°You, Marie, were in mortal danger,¡± Nop said slowly. ¡°We have been watching you for many years. About twenty years ago it was decided that, should you die in a way we could prevent, we would bring you in. It¡­ took longer than anticipated.¡± Marie slid back into her chair, eyes vacant. Nop''s feathers ruffled awkwardly. ¡°Granted, they were manipulating things a bit, since sick people don''t get good ratings, and the ''curse'' that any privateer sent to kill you would immediately become a plague ship wasn''t exactly supernatural in origin, but-¡± ¡°Has he been watching?¡± she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The raven hesitated again. ¡°Yes.¡± Without acknowledging the reply, Marie got up and walked towards the door. Peter shared a worried look with Razan, who was half out of his chair. ¡°Captain!¡± Peter called. Marie stopped. She shook her head, then continued out. Sophie looked at Nop. ¡°What parts of her life were you watching?¡± The raven shrugged. ¡°Everything.¡±