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Delight took me to a common room, knocking on the door, and then stalking right through, until she saw the instructor over by the coffee machine. I’ll give her this, the instructor took in Delight, and then her gaze tracked to me, and she managed a welcoming smile. I still caught the look that said she knew exactly what sort of recruitment I’d gone through, just a glimpse, before the warm-welcome mask slipped into place.
“Agent Delight,” she said, “I see you’ve brought us another recruit.”
Delight managed an answering smile, albeit a little small and a little tight, and she glanced back at me.
“This is Lyn Cutter. She’s a late addition, so she’ll need some extra training in a few areas.” Delight paused.
I was still staring at her over the use of Lyn. It was a pet name, a short version of Jocelyn, but not something everyone knew. It made me wonder what else they knew about me. Delight threw me a teasing glance, before turning back to the instructor.
“Self-defense needs a lot of work,” she added, and then she left before I could think of anything to say.
I stood there, letting the instructor take a good, long look. And then I stood there some more, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, I glanced right and left, taking in the students on either side, noting the placement of the tables and chairs, taking a good deep breath of the coffee scent filling the air.
I found I was the centre of every student’s attention, saw that cups were being drained before being set carefully down, as each student came out of their seat. This was either going to be very, very good, or very, very bad.
The instructor looked me over, and I returned her look and raised my eyebrows as if to ask her what she was going to do about me. In hindsight, that might not have been my best decision.
Finally, she spoke.
“Catching up on your self-defense might take a bit of work,” she said, but I didn’t reply.
I stared at her, alert to the movement around me, noting the glimpses I caught in my peripheral vision as students tucked chairs under tables, and stepped clear, listening to the sound of movement that told me where the ones were that I could not see. A long time ago, I’d taken a martial arts class.
‘A’, as in one, singular, class. I’d then used what I’d been taught to defend myself in a fight at school, and that had been the last self-defense class I’d been allowed to go to. Unfortunately, we’d lived in the wrong part of town for that kind of shit, and the kid had relatives. And some of them knew where I lived. I hadn’t known my mum’s taste in dates had gotten that bad. If I had, I might have left long ago... except I’d wanted to complete my degree.
What a shame.
The instructor took a sip of her coffee, and then settled back against the side-bench.
“Let’s see what you know,” she said, and the cohort moved.
It didn’t move as one, though, and that was their first mistake. Their second mistake was trying to attack from behind. Cowards. Their third mistake was to see the tables as obstacles.
If the fight in the control room of Lockyer’s Transport had taught me one thing, it was that cover was your friend. I figured it would do just as well in a fist-fight, as it did in a gunfight.
I was almost right.
Instead of facing up to my opponents as they came out from behind their tables, I took a quick step to the side, and then slipped in under the table nearest, and out the other side. I also figured that I deserved a weapon. With so many against me, it was only fair. With that in mind, I picked up a chair.
Unfortunately, my classmates turned out to be quick studies, and the two nearest me also slipped the chairs out from under the tables closest them. Now I was in trouble.
“Hi, I’m Tyson,” said the guy on my left, lining up his chair.
“And I’m Alice,” said the girl on my right, as she readjusted her grip on the back of hers.
“Fantastic,” I replied, stepping out of the arc of Alice’s chair, and using my own to block Tyson’s first swing.
The impact jolted up my arms, and into my shoulders. I tried to tangle the legs, and hook the chair out of his hands, but his grip was too strong, and I didn’t quite succeed. The chair legs tangled, and I had to pivot quickly to avoid Alice’s second swing.
You’da thought, with two against one, the others would have backed off, but that didn’t happen. I caught a glimpse of movement a little bit behind me, and had just enough time to duck. That would have worked a whole lot better, if my new opponent hadn’t been trying to land on me in the first place.
Sure, I was lower down, and he had a longer way to fall than he’d anticipated, but I was still sort of where he’d thought I would be, and he still landed. And he landed hard. My duck turned into an all-out sprawl, and I caught my head on the edge of the table on the way down.
Now, I understood why they might be considered obstacles in a fight.
I kept a hold on the chair, but my new opponent had managed to hit me at around chest height, and he’d followed me down to land astride my torso. I tried to roll out from under, and ended up on my side, with one of his knees pinning one of my arms to the floor. Finding my other arm still free, I tried to drive my elbow into his gut, but he was faster, grabbing my wrist and twisting my arm behind my back. Now, I was in trouble.
“Aw, stars to Hell, Ax. What are the rest of us supposed to do?”
It was a good question. I didn’t know what they were going to do, but I needed to throw up. It was probably the blow to the head—either the one from the table, or the one from when I’d hit the floor with Agent Delight. The only problem was I couldn’t move, and no-one was paying me any attention.
I lay on the floor, listening to the tumult of voices above me, watching the way the table legs blurred into multiples, and then back to one, and wondering if my head would stop hurting, any time soon. I willed my stomach to stop churning, but only succeeded in getting it to subside to restless. It made me wonder how in all the heavens I was going to get out of this one.
I wasn’t, it seemed. The instructor hadn’t called an end to the fight, and I hadn’t given in—and Ax must have figured it wasn’t over, because he hadn’t moved. On that, at least, we agreed.
I stayed still, flexing against his grip on my wrist, and the way his knee rested on my arm. I didn’t think it was funny when he laughed. I thought it was less funny, when he lifted his knee long enough to flip me onto my front, and drag my other hand behind my back.
Great. Just great. I rested my forehead on the floor, and sighed. I figured they’d get to whatever was next when they were ready.
“A chair, huh?” the instructor said, and I realized she had come closer.
I managed an ‘uh huh’ in response.
“Where’d you learn that trick?”
“No idea,” I mumbled. “Just seemed too good a chance to waste.”
That brought a laugh from the rest of the cohort, but I noticed Ax hadn’t let go of my wrists, and he hadn’t gotten off my back, either. The instructor must have noticed as well.
“Good job, Ax,” she said, “and you, too, Tyson and Alice. From now on, she’s your responsibility. Ax, you’re first in charge, then Alice, then Tyson. Anything goes wrong, that’s the order of the ass-kicking. You make sure you keep her in line.”
I lifted my head, trying to get a look at the instructor. Since when did they make these guys smart? And then the answer came, along with memories of Keevers and Agent Delight. Right. Since this was Odyssey, and I’d been recruited and repossessed.
I lowered my head back to the floor, and couldn’t suppress a groan.
Great. Just great.
“This fight is done,” the instructor added. “You can let her up.”
I heard a general shuffling of feet, and chairs scraping back as my cohort colleagues returned to whatever they’d been doing when I’d arrived. Everyone, except, of course, the three stooges who’d been set to guard me.
Ax didn’t shift, and I could sense the other two hovering nearby. I waited, and, finally, the message got through. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Ax sighed, and then let go of my arms, and lifted off my back.
“You can get up, now,” he said, and I moved to get my hands under me, before slowly getting to my feet.
First thing I did was turn around. Ax, huh? I wondered how much trouble I’d get into, when I punched him.
Second thing I did was take two steps back, until I fetched up against the table I’d dived under at the start of the fight. He was taller than me—and, well, there was a lot of him. And I just couldn’t help myself.
“They sure do stack it high where you come from, don’t they?”
As a greeting, I might have done better just saying ‘hi’. Seems Ax came from the same sort of neighborhood as the one I’d just left, except he used an open-handed slap, instead of a fist. I know, because I watched him open his hand, just before it connected with the side of my head—and then it knocked me sideways, and I stumbled before dropping back to my knees.
And I threw up, which had been coming for a while. I’d just been hoping to avoid doing it in the dining hall. Footsteps signaled the others moving away—and also when they returned. With a mop, and a bucket, and a cloth. For a minute, I thought I was on a team that would take care of me, and then Ax propped the mop beside me, and dropped the cloth into my lap.
“Clean it up.”
For real? I glanced up at him, and saw no reason to argue. It wasn’t his size. It was the way he stood. He caught my gaze and lifted an eyebrow. I didn’t bother arguing; I grabbed the cloth.
To be honest, there wasn’t much to clean up. I hadn’t had a lot to eat due to my misbehavior, and there wasn’t a lot in my stomach. It struck me that this, rather than the bump on the head, would account for the dizziness. Whatever.
I got to it, the three of them watching me work to make sure I did the job properly... and probably to make sure I didn’t use that mop in the way I was thinking. Like I said, Ax and I came from the same sort of neighborhood. From the way they were looking at me, I’d say Tyson and Alice might have grown up somewhere similar, too.
The rest of the group were sitting on the other side of the room, but they were watching us closely, and I was pretty sure at least some of them were taking notes. When I was done, Tyson grabbed the bucket, mop and cloth, and headed for a door at the other end of the room. Alice glanced up at Ax, and Ax looked at me.
“You look done in, Cutter,” he said, and I wondered what he’d come up with next. Wherever Odyssey had gotten him from, it sure as shit wasn’t straight off the streets, which is why his next order didn’t come as too much of a surprise. “Go get three coffees. I’ll take mine black. Alice has cream with two sugars, cos there’s no way known she’s sweet enough, and Tyson has his white with none, the pussy.”
I glanced over at the sideboard, and then went. I figured Ax was watching me go, but I didn’t look back. I got the coffee: one black, one sweet with cream, and one white and none. And then I brought it over to the table they’d commandeered.
I figured this was a dominance game, only it was a game I’d lose, until I accepted that I just wasn’t going to win. To win, I’d have to take the place they were offering, which, given that they’d just been made responsible for my good behavior, was bottom of the pile. I kept this in mind, as I set the cups on the table—and I remembered Keevers, too.
He’d kept me on a pretty tight leash, which had kept me safe—but he’d made sure I had what I needed. I was going to have to give Ax the same chance... but, as soon as he’d settled himself in as leader of the happy trio, I was gonna do something about being bottom.
I kept that in mind, as I focused on staying on my feet and tried not to sway. That last part was getting harder, as the day caught up. About a minute passed by, before he set his cup on the table.
“Where’s your gear?” he asked, and I shrugged.
He frowned.
“You do have gear, don’t you?”
And I shook my head. What I’d had on the smugglers’ ship had disappeared long before Odyssey had arrived on the scene, and I’d just made do with what I could get out of the ship’s stores. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d survived. Keevers had kept me safe. My stuff? Not so much.
“So, you’ve got nothing?” Alice asked, before Ax could continue, and I nodded, feeling an unexpected rush of emotion, as I realized exactly what I’d left behind when I’d run away from home.
That brought more memory, and I felt a storm of pain uncurling, deep in my chest. I swallowed, willing it away, trying to force it back down, back into the box in which I’d had it caged. Something in my face must have warned them what was happening, because Ax frowned.
“Go and get yourself a coffee,” he said.
“However you want it,” he added, when I hesitated.
I went, hearing his next order ring out behind me, and finding it strangely comforting.
“And then get your ass back here.”
At least someone wanted me around.
