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Chapter Eleven

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THE CLOUD OF HER DECISION hung over Jas throughout the Mars trip, and when she got back to McMurdo Sound, Sergei could tell immediately that something was wrong. She didn’t waste any time in telling him. It wasn’t fair to allow things to continue as they were when the relationship had no future.

Jas didn’t cry easily, but the tears were soon pouring down her face as she explained what she’d realized when she’d seen Mars. She felt like she was being torn in two. She didn’t think she’d ever love someone again like she loved this man, but neither could she be happy Earth-bound.

As Jas went on, Sergei looked down and swallowed. Her explanation drew to a close, and he looked up with a forced smile. “It’s okay. I’ll just learn to like space travel.”

She put a hand to his face. “No, you won’t.”

He shrugged. “People change. Maybe you won’t feel the same way in a couple of years. Maybe I’ll get over my fear. I could try hypnosis. Or drugs.”

They laughed, sadly.

“No drugs,” Jas said.

“But we’ll stay together for now?”

Jas nodded and wiped her eyes. “For now.”

***

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JAS’ STUDIES CONTINUED, and soon it was time for her weekly hand-to-hand combat session with Trankle. Jas had avoided confrontation with him as much as she could, especially since the bar incident. Whenever he criticized her for a mistake she hadn’t made, or when he passed over her when picking students for sparring, she gritted her teeth and let it go.

The session had started out like the rest. She’d stayed at the back and avoided the man’s gaze. But it wasn’t enough. Maybe her depression over a future without Sergei was showing on her face, or maybe Trankle took her morose expression personally. During his explanation that the class was to be about techniques for defeating a larger opponent, he stopped twice to stare at her. The other students also looked at her curiously, as if to figure out what was bothering the instructor.

“Don’t be intimidated by size,” Trankle said after his second pause. He addressed all the students but then fixed Jas with a glare. “It doesn’t matter how big the other guy or girl is, you’ve got advantages. Speed, agility, and—if you’ve learned anything in this class—technique. If you have time, play the long game. Wear your opponent out. Some heavier types slack off on their cardio-vascular. Got no stamina. It goes without saying, but avoid grappling. Duck in, and hit the vulnerable spots, hard. Throat, diaphragm, solar plexus, groin, kidneys. If your opponent doesn’t go down on your first attack, back up and wait for the next opening.”

He paused again and threw Jas another look.

“Harrington,” he barked. “What’s your problem?”

Jas was startled. “What?” She’d been following what he was saying. Not closely, but she’d been listening.

“Think you know better, huh? Get over here.”

The students shuffled aside as Jas made her way to the front. Tension rose in the room. All the students knew Trankle’s antipathy toward Jas. The atmosphere became tense.

“There.” The instructor pointed at the mat. Jas went over and stood where he’d pointed, her muscles tensing. An uncomfortable prickling began running up and down her spine.

“These techniques are useful for women fighting men,” Trankle went on. “Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the guy’s gonna be bigger and stronger. But with the right moves, a woman can incapacitate a man. Harrington here’s the biggest woman among you. By far,” he added. A few of the students snickered, though many looked grave and embarrassed. “If any girl among you stands a chance of taking me out, it’s her. Wanna try it, Harrington? I’m guessing you do.”

He joined her on the mat and got ready to fight, bending and spreading his arms and legs. He fixed his narrow eyes on her, as if to say, Now’s your chance, bitch.

Jas’ arms hung limply at her sides. The whole situation was ridiculous. The teaching method Trankle had used up until then was to first demonstrate a technique, then ask the students to practice it. Now, he was expecting her to practice techniques that he hadn’t taught.

Jas debated pointing this out, but Trankle’s lips were thin, and his bull neck was taut. He looked really mad. He was only going to get madder if she questioned his methodology in front of the other students. She would have to do as he said and try to fight him.

She was thankful for the protective sparring gear she was wearing. A head and face guard and body shield were the only advantages she had over this burly, expert fighter. He didn’t deign to put on the safety gear that the students had to wear.

Jas began to circle the mat, and Trankle turned to follow her. “Not bad, Harrington. So you did think you had something to learn from this class.” He lunged and grabbed, but Jas hopped backward, out of his reach. She quickly sidestepped to the other side of the mat. Trankle spun around and lunged again, but Jas repeated the same avoidance maneuver.

“Gonna try and tire me out, huh?” said Trankle “Sad for you, we don’t have time for that.” He stopped moving and straightened up. Beckoning with his fingertips, he said, “Attack me.”

Jas was also still. She looked into Trankle’s hate-filled eyes. The watching students were silent and unmoving, seemingly holding a collective breath.

“C’mon,” the instructor said. “What are you scared of? You’re wearing your safety gear. I can’t hurt you.” He moved his hands from his head to his hips. “Look at me. Get a lucky hit, and you could do me a lot of damage. C’mon, Harrington. I know you want to.”

Still Jas hung back. What did he want from her? To beat her. That was what he wanted. He wanted to defeat her, to hurt the filthy Martian. He knew she’d been pulling punches and throwing her matches. He wanted to show her she had something to be scared of.

Her gaze flicked to the watching students. Some were looking on sympathetically. Did they realize Trankle’s intentions too? But there was nothing any of them could do to help. They had to obey him as much as she did.

“Harrington,” the instructor barked, making Jas jump. “I gave you an order. Or do you only fight people weaker than you?”

Anger flared up in Jas, and without thinking, she rushed in and kicked upward, trying to reach the man’s head. He deftly caught her ankle one-handed. Grabbing her foot with the other hand, he twisted her leg cruelly around. Jas’ body followed. She cried out in pain, and suddenly she was face downward on the mat, her knee and hip agonized.

The students gasped.

Jas was still, waiting for the pain in her leg to dissipate. Her face smarted where it had slid along the mat.

“Get up, Harrington,” Trankle said. “Quit faking. I didn’t hurt you that bad.”

Wincing, Jas stood up, wobbling. She limped to the back of the audience, the students parting silently to let her through.

“Harrington provided us with a great example of what not to do,” said Trankle. “Now we’re gonna look at some effective ways you can beat a stronger opponent.”

***

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“WOW, TOUGH CLASS TODAY?” Sergei asked when he met Jas for dinner in the cafeteria that evening. He was referring to the bright red abrasion on Jas’ face from its encounter with the training mat. He put down his tray and sat opposite her.

“Tough instructor,” Jas replied and went on to explain what had happened.

“What an asshole,” Sergei exclaimed. “Did you report him?”

“No point,” Jas said. “I can’t prove he was doing anything other than a normal training exercise.”

“Jas, you can’t let him treat you like that. Some of the other students will back you up. They saw what happened.”

Jas sighed. “It’s okay. Really, I can deal with it.”

“No. For krat’s sake, Jas, listen to yourself. The misborn assaulted you. You have to do something about it. You can’t go through the rest of your life letting people push you around. You’re in security,” he exclaimed. “What are you going to do if you get attacked by aliens? Run away? Tell the people you’re supposed to be protecting that you couldn’t prove the aliens were attacking?”

“Hey,” Jas replied defensively. “Of course I won’t. I’ll do my job. This is different.”

“Not from where I’m sitting, it isn’t.”

Jas’ lips thinned to a line. “I don’t have a choice. I can’t make waves. I can’t afford to get kicked out of school. If I don’t get through this, I’m not going to get another chance. I’m not like you. I can’t just drift from college to college because I’m too lazy to do the work.”

Sergei put down his fork and sat back, staring at Jas.

She closed her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

He shook his head and resumed eating, silently.

Jas sighed. She reached out and took his hand. “I went over this with Tamara months ago. There really isn’t anything I can do. I just have to suck it up and hope he doesn’t teach any of my classes next year.”

“You mean this has been going on for a while?”

“A little. Off and on.”

Sergei looked at her gravely.

“Don’t look at me like that. You don’t get it. You’re from Earth. You aren’t different from everyone else. You don’t stand out wherever you go. People aren’t constantly asking about your background. They don’t treat you differently. You’re accepted for who you are. It isn’t like that with me. To everyone else, I’m not Jas, I’m The Martian. Maybe the administration would believe me. I don’t know. But I get too much attention as it is. I don’t want any more.”

“Jas, most people don’t give a krat where you’re from. This isn’t the children’s home,” Sergei said. “Most people aren’t like your instructor. You don’t have to put up with his behavior.”

Jas remembered being jumped in the stairwell by the children’s home kids, having things thrown at the back of her head in class while the teacher’s back was turned, and being the victim of subtle ostracizing. “Sergei, I know you think what you’re saying is true, but you don’t get it, and you never will. So let’s just not talk about it, huh?”

He looked hurt, but he didn’t press the issue. They tried to talk about other things, but their conversation was dry and forced. Ever since she’d told Sergei of her passion to travel the stars, a distance seemed to be developing between them that broke Jas’ heart.