Burden of Sisyphus (16 page)

           
“You will.”
 
Iana sat beside her on the bed.
 
“Everyone struggles in the beginning.”

           
“Not everyone,” Keryn replied, thinking darkly of Sasha and Zalide.

           
As if reading her mind, Iana said, “Forget Sasha for one night.
 
Forget the Academy, too.
 
Tomorrow is a whole new day.”

           
“Tomorrow,” Keryn replied in mock exasperation, collapsing backward onto the bed and covering her face with her hands.
 
“I don’t even know what the hell Victoria meant by
aerial jousting,
but I already have to do it tomorrow.”

           
Laughing, Iana tugged Keryn’s shoulders, trying to make her sit up again.
 
“It can’t be all that bad.
 
Who knows?
 
Maybe
joust
is code for delicious desserts.”

           
Giggling with her, Keryn shoved her playfully off the bed.
 
She was glad to have Iana around.
 
Even at her darkest, her Pilgrim roommate was capable of making her laugh.

           
“See?”
 
Iana stood.
 
“Now you’re laughing.
 
Since you’re in such a good mood, there’s no excuse why you can’t join me at the bar for a few drinks.”

           
“I appreciate the offer,” Keryn said, still smiling, “but I really think I’ll pass tonight.”
 
She stopped Iana with a raised hand.
 
“Just give me one night of wallowing, then I’ll go to the bar with you.”

           
Iana narrowed her eyes and stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.
 
“Fine.
 
Enjoy your pity party.
 
I’m still going out.
 
I’ll look so ravishing, all the guys will forget I’m a Pilgrim and will line up at the bar to buy me a drink or take me home.
 
Unfortunately, I’ll have to tell them they can’t come home with me, because my roommate’s too busy feeling sorry for herself.”

           
“Oh, get going!”
 
She threw a pillow at her.
 
“Have a good time tonight.
 
I mean it.”

           
“Wish you were coming with me.
 
We’re damn near unstoppable together.”

           
Both laughed, as the door closed behind Iana.
 
Still smiling, Keryn lay back on the bed, tucking her arms under her head and returning to staring at the ceiling.

           
Part of her longed to leave the room and join the others, but a deeper ache of shame burned in her chest.
 
The Wyndgaarts were a proud race, but Keryn had done little of which she could feel proud.
 

           
Closing her eyes, she ran through her combats and subsequent defeats repeatedly, remembering every painful maneuver with crystal clarity.
 
She sought the one revelation that would help her succeed tomorrow, and, with hope, during the rest of her time at the Academy.
 
No matter how many times she replayed the day’s events, however, she couldn’t figure out what she did wrong, or what Zalide did that was special enough to result in his repeated victories.

           
As she grew tired and irritated by the thought of her failures, she considered the coming day’s training.
 
Before the end of class, Victoria stood at the front of the room with a deep frown.
 
Keryn wasn’t the only one who performed dismally during training, and the Avalon instructor was disappointed.

           
“Spend tonight thinking about your failures,” Victoria said, visibly upset.
 
“Tomorrow, take the lessons from today and apply them in combat.
 
You won’t have the safety net of knowing your losses are only in a simulation.
 
Tomorrow, your combat will be real, your losses painful.
 
For your first time this year, but far from the last, you’ll have the opportunity to experience the aerial joust.”

           
Keryn tried to imagine what an aerial joust might be without success.
 
Nothing she read or heard before arriving mentioned such an event, but Victoria spoke the words as if they were capitalized and were important enough to warrant blatant emphasis.
 
How did one prepare for something, when one didn’t know what it was?

           
You could always get off your lazy ass and try to find out,
the Voice chided.

           
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Keryn said angrily.
 
“Unless you have some insight into the joust, shut up.”

           
Sorry, Keryn,
the Voice said with disdain.
 
You’re the first Academy student in our genetic history.
 
I never had much of a need to learn about what happens in this…school.
 
The Voice’s disapproval was evident.

           
Silence stretched between the two, as Keryn stared unseeing toward the ceiling.
 
Frustration with the Voice flooded her thoughts, which she knew the Voice shared.
 
The knowledge that it knew her displeasure gave her some degree of happiness.

           
As minutes dragged by, she looked away from the ceiling and around her rather barren room.
 
Aside from two beds, two tall wall lockers dominated the wall space at the foot of each bed frame.
 
Near her head, butted against the wall opposite the door, two desks sat side-by-side, allowing each student to read, study, and run exercises on a personal console.

           
She sat upright, staring at the desks.
 
Over the past week, she completed a series of reports on the Academy’s history, using her console as a reference to sort through the hundreds of documents stored in its database.
 
It was feasible the console held information about the aerial joust, too.

           
Excited, she slid from bed and pulled out her chair, flicking the power switch on the side of the console’s monitor.
 
A cold, blue glow filled the otherwise darkened room, as a query screen appeared.
 
Blinking against the bright glow, she entered her request and submitted a query to the system.

           
Leaning back in her chair, she waited, as the console processed her request.
 
Shortly, it filled the screen with a scrolled list of positive results.
 
Starting at the top, she perused the files, passing by a multitude of text files.
 
After completing research projects and preparing for demanding classes, she had no heart for more reading.

           
Near the bottom of the first page, she found what she wanted—a video result.
 
Smiling, she accessed it and leaned back, as the air above her console shimmered.

           
The darkness vanished, as the video played.
 
A warm sun over Arcendor appeared, casting a brilliant reflection off the lake behind the Academy.
 
Keryn almost felt the warm breeze blowing over the water, as she watched ripples move across the lake.

           
From the periphery of the projection, figures dressed in black flew into view.
 
The group of cadets dived around and through one another in an obvious battle, with pistols and strange, glowing knives in their hands.
 
The air was soon filled with laser fire, as cadets spun in graceful arcs and turned into intense dives to gain a tactical advantage on their adversaries.

           
Slowly, one at a time, cadets were struck by their peers’ laser fire or slashing knives.
 
Stiffening, they plummeted from view, diving stiffly toward the lake.

           
Keryn watched the stunning acrobatic dance above the lake for nearly thirty minutes until only three students remained, their flights becoming little more than a blur.
 
Not needing to see any more, she flicked off the console, and the room was again enveloped in the dark gloom of night.

           
Though temporarily blinded, she remained seated at her desk.

           
“I am so screwed,” she said into the darkness.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 
          
“We’ve established a steady orbit around Purseus II,” the pilot called back to the crew cabin of the transport ship.

           
“Roger that,” Vance yelled back, trying to be heard over the low din of the humming engines.
 
Looking out the open back bay, he watched two other
Cair
class transports starting their engines and activated his radio before continuing.
 
“Halo, are you online?”

           
“I’m here, Michael,” she said, transferring her voice communications to the covert operation team’s channel.
 
“I’m bringing satellite tracking online now.”

           
“Let me know when you have a visual for our descent,” he said into the microphone hanging before his face.
 
Like the rest of the soldiers crammed into the rear of the transport ship, Vance wore the dark-plated armor more typical of infantry than covert operations.
 
It sat uncomfortably on his shoulders, as it did the rest of his team.
 
Still having a bad feeling about the mission, he wasn’t willing to take any chances.
 
Though it was uncomfortable, body armor was capable of stopping a direct shot from most Terran weapon systems.

           
“Imagery is now online,” Halo finally said.
 
“I’m ready when you are.”

           
“Roger that, Halo.”
 
Vance pulled the mike away from his mouth to yell to the seated soldiers, “We’re starting our drop in five minutes.
 
Make sure you’re securely locked into your seats.
 
It’ll be a bumpy ride through the atmosphere.
 
Check your buddy, too.
 
I need all of you healthy when we hit the ground.”

           
He motioned Dallis and Decker to join him near the cockpit.
 
“Are your men ready to go?”

           
“The Black Talons were born ready,” Dallis said with a smile.

           
“I’ve double-checked their equipment and basic loads myself,” Decker said flatly, sharing a knowing glance with Vance.
 
Neither Pilgrim felt confident since the mission briefing.
 
“We have enough ammunition onboard to stop a small army.”

           
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
 
Vance patted their shoulders and moved toward the cockpit.
 
“Looks like we’re ready to start our drop,” he told the pilot.
 
“Let me know when we break through the atmosphere.
 
I want to get eyes on the city before we land.”

           
“Yes, Sir,” both pilots replied.

           
Vance went back to strap himself into a webbed seat.

           
The meager light flooding through the rear door of the transport ship began to disappear, as the heavy door slowly slid closed.
 
With the last sliver of light finally gone, the interior of the ship rumbled, as it lifted off the floor of the hangar bay.
 
Sitting sideways, all the soldiers were thrown against each other, as the ship accelerated quickly to launch free of the
Goliath.
 
The ship settled in the frictionless space, and the noise died to a low hum.
 
Vance was able to unlatch from his seat and stand to address the soldiers.