Cartlidge: Rise of the Imperfect Flame (3 page)

I returned to the council room early the next day. I entered
unescorted this time, and the air of the room felt heavy with the irritancies
of officials still trying to rise from their morning grogginess. I felt rather
uncomfortable as some glared at me as just another burden to their day.

“Ok, everyone.
First on our list
today is Mr. Cartlidge’s decision on where he will go from here.”

“Your lordship, do we really need to be present for this?”
one of the council members griped.

“Mr. Cartlidge’s last wishes were embedded in a legal
document; therefore, we have to treat it as a legal matter. Calm yourself,
Rekke. This should only take a few minutes. Now, Jacob Cartlidge, have you
chosen your path?”

“I
have,
your lordship. I have
chosen to become a warrior.” There was a pause.

“Are you sure? I must warn you a military path will
challenge you to lengths you cannot comprehend.”

“I am sure.”

“Very well.”
He spoke into an audio
messenger. “Bring me a guide for our military complex. We’re sending you a new
recruit.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, but inside I questioned myself. Was
this a terrible mistake?

“You’re dismissed.” I turned and walked out of the room.
Just as the king had said, a guide greeted me as I left the room. She looked
far too eager for the job and I wondered if she was new.

“If you’ll come with me, we will head to the transport to
take you to the military complex.” Her Gaia was surprisingly proper. We went
through several hallways and elevators until we reached the bottom of the
tower. It now seemed much larger than when I had first seen it. We traveled on
the strange glass roads for several hours. During the ride there, my guide
spoke continuous praise about the quality of the facility as if she was selling
real estate.

“The beds in the barracks are made from a rather luxurious
new cross weave silk that I’m sure you’ll love.”

As we reached the building I was forced to admit that I was
actually quite impressed. The building itself was twice the width of some of
the largest skyscrapers in New York City, and rose to a height of around four
or five stories. The roof was flat, except for a dome at the center and a
rounded glass roof towards the back. The shape of the building started as a
square,
then
opened into two diagonal sides in the
back before creating a concave section for the opening of the building. The
texture of the building seemed to be concrete, yet there was no visible seam,
or even a crack, in the structure at all.

“As you can see there are two sets of doors. The one in
front of us leads to the arena, where some of the best warriors will fight for
advancement.”

“Wait, you mean to the death?”

She laughed.
“Of course not!
That
would be a terrible waste. Though people tend to get rather injured in the
arena, there are almost never any fatalities.”

I remained silent. We entered through the second set of
doors to our right and entered into the lobby of the building. The lobby was
strikingly similar to those in the average hotel. There were banners, plants, a
fountain, and several chairs and tables in the corner. My guide then explained
that she worked at the front desk in this room.

“... And this room is the training room. Here you will be
provided state of the art training simulations, as well as opportunities to
spar with your fellow recruits.” The room was quite large, with several
balconies where the commanding officers stood to watch the soldiers. The left
wall curved around the arena. A large room to our right housed several systems
that simulated combat scenarios. One soldier was in the holo-room, working
rapidly to fend
of
a group of transparent attackers.
As we moved further we saw a group of four circles which acted as sparring
rings. We continued further to find another holo-room to our right and a set of
smaller rooms to our left. The warriors in these rooms were not fighting, but
standing rather still.

“Hey, what’s that room?”

“Oh! Those are the singer’s rooms.”

“Singers?”

We stopped and my guide took a deep breath. “Singers are
kings and queens who use their powers to manipulate sound waves. They can
replicate just about any instrument you can think of, and their singing is
absolutely beautiful. At least, that’s what I hear. The rooms are soundproof.”

“Why would warriors need this?” I strained to understand the
point of having a concert in the middle of a battle.

“Well,” She spoke low like she was spreading a rumor,
“singers are taught how to sing in an ancient language that makes people
stronger!”

“What she’s trying to say is that the songs they sing
contain psychological effects that can increase the morale and determination of
all those who listen.” Brin, who was now clothed in elegant full body armor,
with a sword tied to his waist, explained. “Their songs can bring even the
laziest soldier to give his all, the coldest, cruelest warrior to break into
tears, and the weakest soldier to work with the strength of ten men. The music
you know of speaks to your mind, but the music they sing quite literally speaks
to the soul.” He paused. “There is even a tale of a song that delays death.” I
wondered what such powerful music could sound like. Such things were further testimony
in demonstrating my ignorance of the new world I was in. I looked back to the
rooms. A single room was occupied by a woman who was singing. Though she faced
away from me, I could easily tell she was human. I wondered how many other
humans were here, learning how to function in this new world, like I was.

“So you chose my field eh? Well I guess that means I’m your
instructor now.”

“You work here?”

“Just started.”
He turned to my
guide. “I’ll take it from here.” The guide made a gesture and walked back
towards the lobby. We turned the opposite way and delved further into the
building. We delved further into the building, into another hallway. Across
from us was the medical room. The hallway on our right traveled to the armory,
along with other small rooms, and then outside to the firing range. To our left
was a fork in the hallway. Going left would lead to an entrance to the arena.
We continued on through the right side of the fork. On our right were four
small meeting rooms, and a large “main theatre” took its place on our left. The
library was situated at the end of the hallway. We walked through rather
quickly, giving me the impression that Brin was getting rather impatient, and I
would have far too many questions if we had stopped to look at everything. Next
to the library
was
the mess hall, and then finally,
the barracks.

“Alright.
Get yourself situated.
Your training starts tomorrow.” The barracks was completely empty.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked.

“They’re either training, studying, fighting, or out where
they’re not supposed to be.”

I found a clean, ownerless bunk and fell in. It was only the
afternoon, but I was exhausted.

I felt my body shifted by a force, and I woke up falling to
the floor. I heard voices but failed to understand them. They were Rovanekrens,
all laughing and talking to each other in their strange language. One turned to
me.

“Wai are there so
menee
of
yuu
haff
bloods? When
mai
father served, he never had to deal with
enee
of
yuu
!”

Another voice spoke. “Um, there are only two of them here,
Jevack.”

“That is two too
menee
!”

I raised myself to a stand. “Your Gaia is terrible.”

“
Maybee
you
peepel
need to learn some Rovanekren.” I began to feel threatened.

“Well maybe you-!”

“Young bloods!”

“Commander, sir!”
Everyone chanted
in unison. Some spoke in Rovanekren while others in Gaia. Everyone stood
completely at attention, feet separated,
arms
behind
their backs. I quickly shuffled into a similar stance.

“You are all new, I know, but I will NOT have a fight break
out BEFORE training starts! Is that clear Jevack?”

“Yes sir!”

“Get some sleep young bloods! You’re all getting up early
tomorrow!” The commander turned and left, taking the tension with him. Some
prepared themselves for sleep, while others started conversations. Jevack
turned to me.

“This isn’t over half blood.” I ignored him, dropped into my
own bunk, and thrashed about to find a comfortable spot. I faced myself away
from the adjacent wall to hopefully be able to respond if someone came a little
too close.

The darkness of sleep was unsettling. I saw faces I didn’t
recognize. I only heard one thing.

“Be…”

I continuously saw the dark figure of my nightmares darting
about the edge of my vision. The hooded figure walked with an arch in its back,
its skeletal hand always outstretched.

“Be…” The voice came not from it, but from a woman.

“Young Bloods!”
This voice I knew.
It was the commander. I woke from my slumber to find the other recruits
scrambling to get ready. I began to do the same. It was around five in the
morning. After around ten minutes everyone was standing at attention.

“Now then, I know that not a single one of you have been in
a real fight. I know, not a single one of you knows what real pain is. But by
the angels by the end of this you will all know exactly what true pain is, and
you will all overcome it or by the angels you will be sent back to your mothers
in buckets! Do you understand me young bloods!”

“
Sevilkren
Yenetchsev
Sevilkren
!” All the recruits spoke in unison. I
assumed it was acknowledgment of the commander’s statement.

“Well if you all are so eager to start I want to see you all
running around the building until breakfast!
Now!”
After a few grunts of irritation, everyone funneled through the door for the
run. The commander stopped me just before I could leave.

“Just so you know
,
every
half blood
has to learn Rovanekren at some point. Not all
instructors will be courteous enough to speak in your language, and angels have
mercy if you can’t tell what the instructor’s telling you to do...” He let me
go and I ran to catch up to the group.

Physical work comprised the bulk of the first month of
training. During the remaining time we were mentally trained. Every day we
would wake up, run, eat, lift,
watch
each other be
humiliated by one of the instructors, eat again, learn simple commands and
protocol, and then return to bed. Everything that was typical of military
training on Earth was doubled on New Rov. The second month focused on our
intelligence. We worked on combat during the early part of the day,
then
broadened our knowledge of the universe in the evening.
Most of the soldiers focused on learning to operate the many vehicles available
to Rovanekrens, from the mainline tank-walker to the small scale fighters and
bombers. I however, focused on understanding this new world.

Towards the end of the month I would find myself skipping
lunches to learn all the different things about this seemingly foreign
universe. Aside from humans, Rovanekrens, and Clawtrodons, there were five
other sentient species, two of which were on entirely different planes of
existence. There were hundreds of known colonized planets and a great many more
waiting to be discovered and colonized. There were more species of alien
creature and plant than I could ever hope to learn. One creature, the Rov Wyrm,
was a rare, large, worm-like creature that would use secreted acids from glands
in its mouth to burrow through large areas of rock. The wyrm had four
appendages on the upper segment which each resembled that of a crab’s pincers.
Its maw was filled with serrated teeth that shredded just about anything in its
path.

Rovanekren technology was equally as fascinating. Nearly all
window systems had a build in camera that analyzed data and used it to improve
the user’s abilities. A good watcher using a window system is capable of
pinpoint accuracy far beyond the abilities of an unaugmented soldier. This
accuracy enables watchers to eliminate targets through non-lethal methods,
including limb crippling or disarming shots. Each day I would go to bed and
have images of these new life forms and technology swimming through my mind as
I slumbered.

The third month, nicknamed the “testing month”, was our
final month of training. We would learn any last minute lessons and then be put
through a variety of tests. Anyone who did not pass, or was maimed in the
attempt, would not be allowed to continue for another year. I never found
another human
recruit,
due in part to my lack of time
to search, and the singer I had seen on my first day disappeared after that
moment. She eventually faded from my mind, crowded out by all the new
information I had learned in the past two months.

Our first day of the testing month was spent accustoming
ourselves to Rovanekren weapons. Rovanekren firearms were much different than
human ones. Nearly all Rovanekren small arms fired small, radioactive shards of
superheated metal from a cylindrical canister. The size and velocity of the
shard depended on the rifle that fired it, but generally, any canister could be
used by any rifle. The metal itself, however, could not be manually removed
from the canister. The radiation of the shards was not entirely dangerous, but if
applied to a target internally, the radiation would cause poisoning and
eventual death. While there were slight variations in model and design, there
were three basic types of firearm. The pistol was the smallest and easiest to
carry or conceal. The rifle was the general term for the standard firearm, and
the watcher’s cannon rifle, or more commonly branded the WCR, was an elongated
form of rifle that filled the niche of a human sniper rifle. We were each
handed an unloaded rifle.

I could not help but feel that the rifle designs were
incredibly unusual. The rifle was composed of a single large pipe with a curved
second attached to the bottom. A rectangular piece was fixed to the center,
covering the connection between the two pipes. A third piece curved between the
two pipes, acting like a handle. The trigger was in the center of the triangle.
The muzzle end of the first pipe separated into several teeth like edges while
the other end supported the stock of the rifle. The canister was connected at
the end of the second pipe. A small green gauge on the canister kept count of
the amount of available shots that were left. The pistol and WCR were of the
same design as the rifle, but with significant changes to size and barrel
length. None of these weapons carried any form of fully automatic fire, since
the rate of fire would easily overheat and melt the rifle, injuring its owner
in the process.

Bladed weapons were particularly interesting. While swords
of varying lengths were the most common, Rovanekrens also implemented axes,
spears, and other forms of bladed weapons into their arsenal. Rovanekren
weapons, when activated, created a small field of energy around the blade,
superheating it. This effect allows a warrior to cut through armor with
relative ease, and create a burning pain upon contact with flesh. These blades
are also electrified, creating a small stunning effect on those who are not
properly trained. This design works only with bladed weapons, preventing
effective use with any form of bludgeon. Typically, low-ranking soldiers are
equipped only with a rifle, the armor on their backs, and a single electrified
knife and can only earn such weapons through successful missions.

Our second day focused on armor. We started by learning
about “mesh”, a blackened Rovanekren substance that acted as a secondary
defense. The mesh was formed into a full body suit fitted to the exact shape of
its user’s body. It acted as an advanced form of the typical 21st century
bulletproof vest, absorbing some of the force of incoming rounds while also
preventing puncture wounds from shards and shrapnel. We watched as one of the
instructors fired several rounds into a training target that was covered in a
mesh suit. The mesh stopped most of the rounds, but sustained fire eventually
prevailed.

“As you chevaknev see… suits… not invincible.” The
instructor spoke in Rovanekren. I had managed to teach myself the general
concept of the language, but after only two months of learning there were still
many words and phrases that would slip by me when someone spoke.

“Don’t think you can… just because you survive… being hit
for the first or second time.” We were told to put on our own mesh suits,
designed specifically to fit our bodies. Although thick, the outfit was
designed specifically to allow unrestricted movement. While the other soldiers
accustomed themselves to the armor, the instructor spoke about our armor’s
second feature: plates.

While design changed dramatically from suit to suit, plates
typically covered the arms, legs, chest and head area. The stomach and joint
areas were often left exposed to allow movement, though exceptions were common,
depending on the warrior’s preference. The helmet covered the warrior’s head
completely, exposing only the crest of horns. Each helmet was unique to the
warrior, with either slight or radical variations in the design of the visor.
The watchers of our group were given helmets that were specifically designed to
allow enhanced visibility. My own armor and mesh suit, however, was not ready
yet. Since I was human, the armor had to be custom made elsewhere. Instead, the
instructors placed weights on me, and then told us all to go on our daily run
with our armor on.

Training went as normal one could expect for a few more
days. Half way through the month though we began the actual testing. We were
pitted against each other in fights to test our abilities in the arena. On
average, half of the recruits fail during the arena section of the testing
month. In fact, I came to realize that failure was rather common for recruits,
and those who pass during the testing month have already been through their
third or fourth year of training. I became nervous as I entered the preparation
room. Arena fights were not like simple sparring matches. Here, we were given
specialized weapons that recreated the pain of the real battlefield. Though
death was rare, it was still a factor in an arena fight. I chose my weapons and
sat for a moment to calm myself. While we were able to choose any weapon we
wished, we were not allowed any armor. I walked towards the doors of the arena
pit. In order to pass, I had to win in two of my four matches. Two of these
times I would walk in first, giving me the advantage of surprise, but for the
other two I would be on the opposite side of that element. This match I was
walking in second.

“Your first match is Tek.” Brin opened the doors and all but
pushed me in. “Good luck!”

Tek was a recruit with an affinity for WCR’s.
A watcher in training.
That likely meant that he had already
seen me from a distant hiding spot. I had to locate him and closed the distance
if I wanted any chance of winning this match. A roaring cheer instantly became
a deathly silence as I rose. I quickly scanned the room. The arena was
circular, with outer walls that stood ten feet over us. The stands were filled
with other recruits, instructors, and other spectators. The arena had a sandy
floor, with scattered walls of rock and
metal, that
acted as cover. Everything was chillingly still. I raised my rifle and stepped towards
a large rock to my left. Two shots flew by me, making a ringing sound as they
flew dangerously close. A third simultaneously ricocheted off the rock and flew
upward before dissipating in an invisible shield. I dove for the rock and hid
behind it. I could hear my heart race as silence returned.

I took a deep breath and counted to three. On the third
count I rose from my cover, rifle
raised
, and searched
for Tek. After about five seconds another shot was fired diagonally right from
me and shot struck my rifle. I dove behind the rock again and inspected the
gun. It was not truly damaged, but refused to continue working, in accordance
with the simulation. I dropped it in annoyance and drew my sword. A thought
struck me. I grabbed the rifle again and looked for the nearest cover. I turned
back towards the rock and set myself to watch for Tek. I slowly raised the
rifle again. A shot rang out from my right, and the rifle flew from my hands.
This time however, I did not flinch. Tek may have been a watcher, but he was a
recruit. He raised himself to change positions. I did the same and charged for
him. He sidestepped behind a wall and raised his gun to fire, missing me only
by seconds. I had halved the distance between us, and now we both knew he was
unable to change his position again. I counted the amount of shots he must have
fired in my head.
Seven.
WCR’s held ten. I did not see
another rifle on him. If I could get him to waste three more shots, then I
would win.

I looked to my right. A decently sized pile of rocks sat a
meter away from me. I glanced around the wall. Tek, no longer behind cover was
staring directly at me, rifle raised. He understood the situation just as well
as I did and also knew that I had no other gun. I tossed my sword towards the pile,
and readied myself to jump. A shot rang off, blasting its way through the metal
wall I used for cover. The shard missed my head by only a few centimeters. I
steadied my breath and forced myself to roll to the rocks. Tek fired again,
sending the bullet across my back. The pain of the simulated round was
surprising. My back felt as if it had been burned by a metal bar that had been
left in the sun too long on a summer day. I could not bring myself to rest my
back upon my new cover. I looked over the pile to find that Tek had moved.
Immediately I realized he was to my right. Before I could react, Tek fired his
last shot into my leg,
then
charged towards me, his
rifle raised to strike me. I twisted myself over my stunned leg and
rose
my sword to block his makeshift bludgeon. I pushed hard
with my other leg and forced Tek off balance, while bringing myself to a
standing position. I quickly followed with a slash that struck downwards on his
torso. Tek fell to the ground, weaponless. I stood over him, pointing the sword
at him while balancing all my weight on my good leg. I waited for someone to
call an end to the match. I looked up for a moment in confusion, and felt my
sword knocked away from Tek. He had something in his hand. It was a knife.
Before I could retaliate, Tek twisted his body and struck my leg with his own,
causing me to fall to the ground like an unstable tower of cards. Tek knocked
away my sword and placed his foot on my face. I was now defenseless.

“Enough!” The commander called, “The match is over! Tek is
the winner!” Immediately the walls of the arena disappeared, and the sandy
floor became hard like marble. Tek removed his foot and extended his hand to
help me up. I refused it, too exhausted to move. I sat for a few more minutes
as Tek and the spectators left. I heard the footsteps of someone drawing
closer. It was Brin.

“What the heck was that?”

I covered my face with my hand. “I thought I won the match.”

“The match doesn’t end until your opponent is completely
disarmed, surrenders, or you deliver what is considered a killing blow.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“I thought he was disarmed.”

“Never assume anything. Never lower
your
guard until you’re
sure your opponent is incapable of retaliating.” Brin
pulled me up by my arm. I went directly to my bunk in the barracks. My next
fight was tomorrow, and I needed time to rest and think about how to improve
upon this.

The next day was the same, except this time I was on the
opposite side. The arena had taken the form of a miniature deciduous forest.
There were too many trees to count, yet they all reached no higher than the
walls of the arena. The floor was made of dirt. I chose to take an extra pistol
as a precaution, but it would also mean my opponent would also be allowed a
third weapon. I perched myself in a rather thick tree on the opposite side of
the arena with a clear view of the entrance and waited. Minutes later my
opponent entered. She was a woman I did not recognize. This was problematic. I
would have to take the time to study her fighting technique. She looked around,
whether for cover or me, I was not sure. She had two tomahawks tied to her
belt, and carried something large on her back. It was an AM launcher.
Anti-matter launchers were portable cannons designed to take down large
targets. AM launchers fired a small sphere of anti-matter that created a
controlled field of destruction upon contact. Anything inside of the field
would disintegrate completely. If too much normal matter made contact with the
anti-matter, such as if there was a group of targets or if the sphere hit the
ground, an explosive amount of energy would be released, making the blast even
deadlier. The portable launchers could only carry three shots, but only a
single one is needed to end the match instantly. I would have to end the match
before she can fire the launcher.