Burden of Sisyphus (26 page)

           
“What are you, five years old?” Iana shouted.

           
Keryn peeked over the edge of the pillow, staring at her aggressive roommate.

           
“Get your lazy butt out of bed.
 
We have a lot of work to do if we’re going to drive the boys wild at the bar tonight.”

           
Finding Iana’s attitude contagious, Keryn began laughing.
 
“You know, I
do
need to get out of this place awhile.”

           
“Then get up.
 
Let’s get ready for a wild night on the town.”

           
They spent the better part of an hour preparing for their night, sorting through a myriad of outfits.
 
As Iana looked through the piles of shoes under her bed, Keryn stared at herself in the mirror.
 
Her silver hair was pinned up with loose tendrils flowing down her neck and shoulders.
 
A plunging neckline revealed deeply tanned skin and exposed the curves of her breasts.
 
Shirt and pants clung tightly to her body, though they weren’t nearly as constrictive as the suit earlier.

           
She felt confident again, and her violet eyes sparkled at her reflection.

           
Leaving the bathroom, she caught Iana’s attention.
 
“So, how do I look?”
 
She turned in a circle.

           
“Platonic erotic.”
 
Iana smiled.

           
“Excuse me?”

           
“It means all the boys will want you, but you won’t give them the time of day.”

           
Laughing, the pair left the barracks and crossed the quad to the only bar on campus.
 
Twin moons cast warm glows over the courtyard.
 
The scent of freshly bloomed flowers filled Keryn’s senses, and the day’s tension slowly faded.

           
In the distance, she saw the bar’s glowing neon signs.
 
Soft, rhythmic beats carried on the breeze, telling stories of dancing bodies and freely flowing alcohol.
 
Her spirits lifted, she hurried with Iana across the grassy quad, eager to join the festivities.

           
As they entered, the pair was enveloped in a cocoon of pounding, percussive beats and shrill, stringed notes.
 
A live band, hidden by a haze of smoke, stood on the stage at the far end of the room.
 
A few tables lined the walls, their smooth tops dominated by large hookahs, from which noxious gray-green smoke billowed.

           
The center of the room was packed with writhing cadets, each dancing his own style to the intoxicating music.
 
Recognizing a few of them through the smoke, Keryn and Iana exchanged waves, as they moved to the long bar.

           
Sliding onto two empty stools, the girls had to lean across the bar to be heard by the bartender.
 
Soon, drinks in hand, they began talking and laughing, allowing the day’s stress to fade.
 
While not exactly what Keryn tried to order through the din, her drink was sweet and strong, the alcohol burning the back of her throat.

           
As the night went on, and they consumed more drinks, the pair told stories of their home worlds and childhoods.
 
While Keryn was surprised to hear of Iana’s upbringing as a gypsy, a traveling group of Pilgrims known for their disregard for social regulations like public intoxication and nudity, Iana was enthralled by Keryn’s description of the Voice and the Ritual of Initiation.
 
Iana grilled her for hours.
 
Though shy at first, Keryn quickly found herself warming to the interrogation and sharing insight about having two distinct personalities in her mind.
 
Their shared laughter stretched into the night.

           
Well past midnight, the mood in the bar shifted.
 
No longer did the band produce bone-jarring beats and raucous riffs.
 
Instead, the pace slowed, allowing intoxicated cadets to pair off and spend the remainder of the evening dancing slowly, cradled in each other’s arms.
 
For Keryn and Iana, it allowed them to speak more easily, as they continued storytelling, no longer required to lean close to each other and shout to be heard.

           
As groups of cadets left the bar, having found mates for the night, Keryn stretched her stiffening muscles.
 
Though she drank quite a few glasses during the night, her pace and constitution left her feeling little more than a bit light-headed.
 
Iana, however, giggled softly to herself between bouts of hiccups.

           
Realizing it was time to leave, Keryn slid from her chair and cradled Iana in her arms, trying to help the flaccid girl off her stool.

           
“Isn’t this a cute scene?” a pompous, singing voice called from behind the pair.

           
Keryn gritted her teeth, feeling the day’s frustrations immediately return.
 
“I didn’t come here for trouble, Sasha.
 
We’re leaving, anyway.”

           
“Is this your last party before they put you on a ship and send you home?
 
After your pathetic displays the past couple of days, it’s only a matter of time before you’re gone.
 
Might as well turn in your letter of resignation now and save yourself the embarrassment of having the instructors do it for you.”

           
Keryn sat Iana on her stool again.
 
The Pilgrim reached for her twice before managing to land a calming hand on her arm.
 
“Don’t let her….”
 
She hiccupped.
 
“Don’t let her pick a fight with you.
 
Just let it be.”

           
“Don’t worry.”
 
Keryn placed a reassuring hand on Iana’s.
 
“I won’t do anything I’ll regret in the morning.”

           
Stepping away from her roommate, Keryn turned toward Sasha and her throng of friends.
 
Keryn counted six females behind the Avalon.
 
From the corner of her eye, she saw Zalide inhaling from a hookah.
 
Quickly figuring the odds, she was certain none of Sasha’s group posed a physical threat.
 
Still, though she may have willingly started a fight when she arrived at the bar, the anger of the day was gone.
 
Instead, all she wanted was to take Iana home.

           
“What are you staring at, Freak,” Sasha asked.

           
“Nothing, Sasha.
 
I’m not looking at anything.”
 
She turned to collect her belongings.

           
“So now I’m nothing?
 
Is that what you’re saying?
 
Do you think you’re somehow better than me, Loser?”

           
You should’ve broken her jaw when you had the chance,
the Voice advised.

           
Knowing Sasha wanted a fight, Keryn ignored the prodding from Sasha and the Voice’s gentle cooing.
 
The Voice’s misguided advice articulated Keryn’s subconscious desires, but even it didn’t have her best interests at heart.

           
A rough voice from behind let Keryn know Sasha wasn’t going to give up so easily.
 
“I’m talking to you.
 
Don't you dare ignore me.”

           
Don’t put up with her,
the Voice urged.
 
Take her down.

           
“Don’t push me,” Keryn growled, barely loud enough for Sasha to hear.
 

           
Bolstered by her perceived dominance of the situation and her friends behind her, Sasha wouldn’t stop.
 
“I’ll do whatever I want, and I’ll say whatever I want.
 
The fact is, you’re a savage, and so is your friend.
 
Your entire, pathetic excuse for a race is full of savages.
 
You’re all better off dead.”

           
Keryn dropped Iana heavily onto her stool.

           
“Don’t do this, Keryn,” Iana begged weakly.

           
“Don’t worry,” she whispered.
 
“I’ll be right back.”

           
Spinning, she lashed out with a lightning-fast right cross that landed solidly on the surprised Avalon’s face.
 
Keryn felt a satisfying crunch of cartilage in the delicate Avalon’s nose, as Sasha flew backward and crumpled to the hardwood floor.
 
Dark blood spilled heavily from her broken nose, and her eyes fluttered, as she fought to remain conscious.

           
A tumbling chair and bellow of rage warned Keryn that more trouble was brewing.
 
From across the room, Sasha’s boyfriend leaped to his feet and charged Keryn.
 
His fist reared back, as he telegraphed his attack from halfway across the bar.

           
Keryn snapped her head to one side and locked her smoldering purple eyes on the intoxicated Zalide.
 
Her body coiled in attack position, she raised her finger in warning.
     

           
“Stop!”
 
The volume of that word was augmented by the power of her voice.
 
The strength of her tone startled Zalide, carving cleanly through his mental fog.
 
Surprised, he slowed his charge until it was a slow walk before stopping a few feet away from the dangerous Wyndgaart.
 
Confused, he stared at the confident woman.

           
“You at a crossroads, and you need to make a decision,” Keryn said.
 
“I know what you want to do.
 
You want to play the role of knight in shining armor.
 
You’ve rushed to the aid of your love and want revenge on the person who brought her low, but this isn’t a storybook.
 
If you decide to go forward with your plan and attack me, let me explain how the rest of your night will go.

           
“First, your punch will be far too slow.
 
You’re drunk, and I’m not.
 
Beyond that, I’m a Wyndgaart and the finest fighter in the class.
 
So you’ll punch, and you’ll miss terribly.
 
By the time you realize I’m not on the connecting end of your powerful punch, I’ll already be behind you.
 
Your back will be exposed, which will allow me to pummel it on both sides.
 
Why the lower back, you ask?
 
Because that’s where your kidneys are.”

           
Keryn looked to make sure she had everyone’s attention and no one else was trying to flank her.
 
Confident they were paying attention, she continued, “Have you ever been punched in the kidneys?
 
I have.
 
It’s a miserably painful experience.
 
Every time I hit your kidney, more and more blood vessels will rupture.
 
They’ll spill blood into your kidneys.
 
The same thing will happen to your intestinal tract, as stray punches rupture blood vessels in there, too, mixing blood into your bowels.

           
“The end result will be that your friends will carry you out of here tonight.
 
Tomorrow, once you’re sober again, you’ll have plenty of time to wonder why you made such a poor decision every time you go to the bathroom and fill the toilet with dark, red blood.
 
All that will happen because of a bad decision you’re about to make.”

           
She shifted her stance in preparation for the conclusion of their discussion.
 
“Which brings us back to the present.
 
Either you take your slut of a girlfriend and leave right now, or you can do what I see in your eyes you want, and try to attack me.
 
It’s your choice,
 
Terran humper.”