Highfive laughed and clapped from the sidelines. "Nice try, Jack! She's fraggin' quick, huh?!"

Jack frowned thoughtfully and studied Bo, who rested her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him challengingly. Finally, he said, "It's less that she's quick, more that she's got teeth already just about closed around you. She was playing with me. I had no chance, I was just made to think I did." He waited for Bo's reaction, but she gave none. Even nothing seemed somehow coy, though. "You do that in case you have the opportunity to lock someone down without expending energy. Psychological warfare."

Bo's poker face lasted only a moment more. She sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Unfortunately, it would be stupid of me to deny it to a teammate like you. Yes, some do happen to be susceptible to intimidation, especially considering the age ranges."

"Very ruthless of you."

"Thank you."

Jack chuckled. "So, I'm curious. In the case of Highfive, can you reach through the sheath?"

"Yes, but it's energy-intensive. Easier to disrupt the sheath itself. I can create a gap in it by disrupting a section. In case you were wondering, yes, I do utilize firearms, in case they're useful. They can be, but they more or less force us to aim for limbs or the tougher windows at the neck and head. The vest is nearly impervious to the weapons we're allowed."

"Good to know. What about grenades and such?"

"Not allowed by default. Depending on the match, which often involves mimicked scenarios, one group or another may have access to extra stuff. Smoke grenades to advance on a defensive position, for example."

"Does that mean that having an offensive team means we'll be put into the aggressive side more often?"

Highfive, who'd jogged up when he sensed the demonstrations were done, clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Damn right! Probably. But at some point, they could test our weaknesses, too. I was talking to Homie, and he was pointing that out as something that happened to his crew."

Bo sniffed derisively. "Expecting us to fail? Seeing how we handle it. Sounds about right."

"Exactly. Never know." He frowned, eyes on the grass.

Bo was also frowning. She looked over at Highfive. "Did they set us up, then? The team didn't exactly handle failure well."

Highfive shook his head. "I dunno. Maybe."

It was Jack's turn to slap Highfive's shoulder. "Well, hey, we'll handle whatever comes our way this time, yeah?"

Highfive met his eyes and nodded with a faint smile. "Yes. We will, bro."

"If we ever find another sucker, anyway," Bo commented.

"Yeah, they don't typically come as gullible as me, unfortunately," Jack replied, playing along.

"Hey, knock it off!" Highfive admonished. "None of that crap on this team! We're all gonna kick ass and we're all kick ass motherfraggers! You got that, Team High Life?!"

Bo looked at him in her usual 'I am judging you disfavorably right now' kind of way. Jack, meanwhile, grinned and held his fist out insistently, deliberately at an angle between the other two.

Highfive got solemn when he saw it. He took a breath and nodded to both of them, then thrust his fist to match Jack, leaving a blatant gap for Bo to fill.

Both men looked to Bo, waiting and expectant.

Bo looked at the fists, looked at them, looked back at the fists. She sighed long-sufferingly and put her fist up for a bump, head cocked and eyes cast sideways as if bored.

After the bump, Highfive pulled back, and Jack did so in sync — amazingly, so did Bo. He was even more amazed to see her open her hand and make the explodey sound along with them, if it was mostly under her breath.

Jack couldn't resist. "That was cute, Bo. Thanks for participating."

She glared briefly, but then transformed and made a mock, thin smile and said too sweetly, "You're so very welcome, Jack."

"Yeah, Light must've drilled it into her bones," Highfive said with a grin. "Probably told her something like" — his voice turned into a bad, high-pitched tone meant to represent femininity — " 'If you want to pass team trials, you gotta act like you're on a team.' That about right, Bo?"

She glared murder once more, now at Highfive. "I keep my promises. That's all you need to know."

Highfive upnodded subtly to Jack, a clear sign he was about to push the envelope. "Can you promise us to not always have the attitude?"

"Can you promise me you'll stop being a moron?"

"I can try?"

"Not good enough for a promise. It looks like the answer is no, doesn't it?"

Jack tapped his chin and pondered. "I wouldn't even know how to process Bo without an attitude…"

"You wouldn't want it any other way, I bet."

"Let's not go that far."

"You won't get anything else, so you might as well want it."

"No promises, but I'll try my best, Bo."

The blue energy field around them disappeared, and Highfive said, "I guess I'm gonna call it today. I could've done a better job canning around to get people here. I thought they'd just show after the flyers! But no big deal. We have three now, and the mix is smokin' hot. I mean, the third is already some kind of crazy superstar or something." Highfive 'bumped' Jack playfully with a forearm.

"I think you meant 'canvassing,' Fiver…"

"He's an attraction this season," Bo offered, eyes flickering between Jack and Highfive, "only if he can pick up those levels. It doesn't matter if you say 'Jack levels up really fast,' the onus is on us to prove it. It's too much to ask for cadets to expect anything different from the normal process — I should know — and Level 3 to Level 5 should take like a year, for most ending up at the target age bracket."

Highfive shrugged. "Another level in training will prove it to anyone with a brain."

"You'd be surprised. Regardless, we should start exercises immediately. The kind that levels fraggers up, I mean."

"No arguments here. I'm good for tomorrow. Jack?"

Jack nodded. "My schedule will warp around whatever levels me up, rest assured."

"Cool. I'll put in for official simulation training. We still got extra field time for other practice stuff. I say to hell with it, we can always get more."

"I'll chip in if you do."

Highfive nodded. "And I'll put you down in the registration for the handle 'Big Iron' to make it official." His tone betrayed the tease.

"Oh no, you won't, Blondy. Actually, I know my deliberation time is over, and I have to pick a handle. And… I've got it."

Highfive's eyebrows rose, and he smiled. "Oh yeah?! Come out with it already, bro!"

Jack looked between the other two, holding a still-faced pose of gravitas. He declared, "Ferronaut."

Highfive had a blank look, and Bo squinted her eyes, lifting an arm to prop a fist under her chin thoughtfully.

Jack waited for words.

Eyes shifting, Highfive shook his head. "I… don't get it. Wait. Like a dreadnought? Ferronought? Wait. Like a juggernaut!? Oh, I can see it. I guess I dunno what 'ferro' is, though."

"It takes two seconds to look up, you lazy bum," Bo said. "It means 'iron,' essentially."

Highfive gasped and pointed at Jack. "Like an iron juggernaut?! Big Iron!" He shook his hand emphatically. "Yes!"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut as he laughed with some exasperation, holding his hands up. "No, but the quasi dual meaning is welcome, I suppose."

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Bo explained, "He's referencing his role. His Primary Mutation makes him a ranger and explorer abroad. Like a cosmonaut. Well… you're not exactly exploring within metal… hmm… technically, you are when in New Babylon's environment…" Bo trailed off, squinting at Jack in new appreciation. She nodded and took a deep breath. "I like it. It's quirky, multilayered, and has spirit."

Jack grinned at her and nodded, then looked to Highfive.

The big man flung his hands out and smiled like a superstar. "If you got iron in the name, I can call you Big Iron with a clean conscience, so I'm fantastically all for it, bro!"

"Like you need an excuse! Eh. Whatever. It's decided."

Mini chimed. <It's suggested to go with Agent Pharaoh in the field, to disguise the meaning. The title name would be retained internally, regardless, and even potentially used in New Babylon if you're ever approved as a public hero.>

Jack blinked, then barked a laugh. "Wow. I didn't even realize that. Hilarious." At their curious looks, Jack related, "Mini says to go with 'Pharaoh' as a disguised callsign. As in the ancient Egyptian rulers."

Highfive laughed. "You've been upgraded to a king?! Damn, dude, you really are going places. Don't forget to, like, curtsy to our royal, Bo."

Bo deadpanned at Highfive, then turned to Jack and performed a shockingly convincing curtsy, albeit without an actual dress. "By your leave, Your Majesty," she said in neutral tones, somehow all the more threatening than mockery would've been.

As both men stared in disbelief, Bo rose and finished flatly, "I'm getting the fragass out of here. Later." She wriggled her fingers goodbye, looking rather satisfied at their expressions, then turned on her heels and sauntered away.

Jack and Highfive exchanged glances. Highfive said, "Welp, that ends our day on a strange note, then. I'm outtie." They exchanged fistbumps. "See you soon, King Big Iron!"

"Hey," Jack said, forestalling him, "next time we meet up, I might bring a new friend I want you to meet. She's new in general, but she's kind of a project from Central. They knew we'd relate, and she's also supposed to study people with powers."

"Huh. Okay. But, not a student, right?"

"Nope. She's not slated for full ANP; she's already a special liaison or whatever."

"Damn. I was hoping for a possible recruit."

"That would've been fortuitous, but sadly, it isn't in the cards."

Highfive nodded slowly. "So. Is she hot?"

"Dude."

"What?! Just asking, man."

"Hey, hands off, Sporty McTall. She's been through some… twisted stuff. Don't ask her about it, either. Classified. Honestly, I don't even know much." Best to avoid her backstory.

Highfive held his hands up in surrender. "Sure, sure. You got dibs? No problem. But yeah, feel free to bring her. If you vouch for her, I'm sold. I trust you, bro. Anyway, I'll see you." He turned to go, then stopped immediately as he looked over at all the stuff under the tent. "Shit! I forgot about this. How could the others leave me before cleaning up?!"

Laughing, Jack shook his head. "I'll help. Just tell me what-"

"No, no, no! You head out. You just joined, newbie, and guests don't clean! Actually, I might leave some of this in case someone stops by. At least they'll get the info, you know? I'll handle the rest." He began moving to start stuffing materials into a big backpack.

"If you say so. Later, Fiver."

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Jack took a break to rest and eat, at which point he obtained some credit for his recent training endeavors.

Evasion improved to 3.1!

Parry improved to 0.3!

Control: Collect improved to 0.9!

He immediately dived into some more physical training and went for a run. Bo wasn't available, but he invited Ira along, who was more than fit for such endurance, despite all the debuffs she was dealing with. They took the long jog around the tower, passing the clubhouses on the outside and chatting about the clubs themselves, what he knew about them, and what the few he'd met of each group were like. Her information was already basic, having gotten the background enough not to be clueless about the people she met and the dynamics involved. Jack essentially just added tidbits here and there.

"I pretty much get all of them, aside from the Floaters," Jack said as they were jogging together. "The only one I talked to for any degree of time seemed like… an intellectual hippy, maybe? Who was big into meditation."

"Oh!" Ira exclaimed, then giggled. "Well, I imagine there are many like that, but I might help more with this, Jack. Dr. Wilson, though not Allotted, taught several classes for them and is effectively an honorary member-"

Jack barked a laugh. "That makes so much sense already! I've got it, now. They're hippy geeks and weirdos! Thanks for fitting the missing piece into the puzzle, Ira."

"Jack, you could never infer so much from so little!" Her voice was playfully chiding. "You are being silly. No, they are varied peoples, including many intellectuals and technologists, but there's a more difficult intangible element. Dr. Wilson said she believes all Floaters seek to understand their soul. Memoria and the people involved in the initial club development wanted to help find ways to answer it, including with such philosophy as given by the brilliant historical human, Avicenna. Meditation is another mechanism. Meanwhile, their slogan, at least upon the surface, declares 'The seeking of understanding never ends.' I think, anyway. The archetypical Floater is an experimenter of the myriad."

Jack took it all in, nodding along. Finally, he said, "Nerds."

"Jaaack!" Ira admonished, her wide, insistent eyes turned toward him.

Laughing, Jack relented, holding up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'll be more generous! Hmm. They're the… dreamers of the world." He was mostly shooting in the dark on that, but he said it like he meant it. As his dad had taught him, 'If you're gonna bullshit, don't half-ass it — bullshit with gusto!'

The face looking up at him was suspicious, but turned back forward. "Mmph. Maybe."

After the run and just after a shower, Jack got a mem-link request from Screamer. He approved and answered it immediately. "Screamer! How are you?"

"Doing alright," she replied. "Care to visit? My list of friends and family with the right clearance — who also give a shit — is pretty short."

"I'll be there in a blink."

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

"This is an amazing selection of cheeses," Jack replied as he took a piece and tried it. "Mm. Bacon flavor."

Screamer chuckled. She was sitting with her knees up in a chair across from a small, circular dining table of some kind of indestructible plastic, which matched the chair, all of it bolted to the floor. Her room was entirely new, and no longer padded after she'd 'persuaded' her collective handlers and doctors that the room was more of a hindrance to her recovery than a benefit for safety. The new room had painted purple walls and seemed comfortable enough, despite the tendency for every interior structural frame to be made of plastic and bolted down.

The crazed girl from before was looking far better. Her wavy, chestnut hair was no longer tangled and looked newly brushed and far healthier. Her face still seemed a bit gaunt and a lot haunted, but it had a subtle improvement. More 'color.' Definitely calmer, and her eyes were now quick and sharp. The fog she'd been in seemed entirely gone.

"Please, eat up," Screamer said with a wave of her hand, indicating the big cheese sampler with three different types of crackers included. "It's too damn big, and I don't seem to like cheese as much as I used to. It was sent by a mentor of mine. She's away — and busy — but we talked remotely. She's kept up about me this whole time. I vaguely remember other conversations I feel mostly ashamed about now. Oh! There's cold sausage, too. Let me get it." She hopped off the chair and padded over to a bedside drawer with a bouquet of flowers sitting on top of it.

"You don't have to," Jack called, though it was clearly too late.

"Seriously, please help me get rid of it," she called as she retrieved a minimally eaten-through sausage log in a wrapper, pre-sliced. She set it down on the table and took her seat again, now pulling up one knee to rest her chin on.

Jack glanced at the sausage with some reluctance. "I don't want to steal your food, Ree."

She gave him a flat look. "Feeding the bottomless pit of a guy's stomach is the familiar and soothing territory of a healthier past and will assist me with my recovery."

Jack winced. "No fair. That's bringing out the cheat ammo."

Screamer smiled sweetly, then raised her eyebrows as she glanced insistently at the sausage log.

With put-upon, exaggerated airs of long-suffering, Jack sighed and said, "If I must. Just this once." He made a meat-and-cheese cracker and popped it into his mouth, soon nodding appreciatively after tasting and swallowing. "It's good stuff. So, how long do you think it'll be before you see daylight and have a little freedom?"

Screamer shrugged. "No timetable yet. I'm supposed to take it day by day." She glanced around the room. "You wanna know something they won't ever get? This shit makes you want to be violent. Even if you're sane. Especially if you're sane."

Jack nodded slowly. "It's in our DNA. People want to be violent all the time in normal life, for the tiniest incidents. Being confined just makes it worse. Any given person needs exceptional self-control to handle this." He paused just before eating another cracker ensemble. "Or maybe most people need meds?" Jack shrugged and ate.

Screamer snorted. "I'll take the test of abundant self-control, thanks. I've had enough 'medicine' crammed through my system for two lifetimes, and the results are dubious in the fraggin' extreme."

"Supernatural crap tends to muddle things, doesn't it?"

She gave only a faint response, eyes looking off again. "I guess I'll never be an ANP again. At least I have a sliver of functional Allotment left. It could be worse."

"It could. You can still kick the asses of orderlies twice your weight, I bet."

She smiled faintly. "Don't tempt me."

Jack made his third cracker. "Yeah, look… just take it slow and be patient, per the doctor's orders. You can worry about powers on the outside of the rest of this shit. Who knows? There might be methods." Like taking her to the Deucalians one day.

Screamer's eyes met his sharply. "Might be? Do you know something? Because of… Q?"

Jack paused mid-chew for a split second, eyes shifting almost involuntarily. He looked away more deliberately and took his time to chew and swallow. Welp. I underestimated her, and she caught me. Oh well. Jack cleared his throat and grinned at her deliberately. "Nope."

Screamer squinted her eyes at him as her lips turned up in faint amusement. "You have cracker in your teeth." She grabbed her water bottle and set it over on his side.

Running his tongue over the front of his teeth first, he nodded his thanks and took a sip of water to swish around. "I have no real answers other than to reiterate that you be patient and stick to your program."

"I planned on it. As long as they keep bringing me books, I promise not to scream." She flicked a hand to indicate the food on the table. "And you have to eat at least half of my gift goodies, too. That's the deal."

"What?!" Jack exclaimed. "Such cruel and unusual punishment!" Jack made a cracker combo with two different cheeses as he spoke. "I can't believe you're torturing me like this, Ree. This is flat-out evil."

Crunch!

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.