Renegade Rising (The Renegade Series) (33 page)

When the man spoke, he sounded a bit like Moordin, except that his voice was much deeper. He was much more intense and a tad bit scary, as if everything he was about to say was absolute and could have no counter argument. His tone was emotionless and every sentence was direct and to the point.

“Good to see you all this wintry morning and all on time no less. You may call me Instructor Perry,” Perry said, standing straight as he addressed his class, turning slightly as he made eye contact with every one of them giving him absolute attention. Gisbo couldn’t have fallen asleep even if he tried; he was too afraid of the ramifications.

“I’d like to offer you congratulations upon receiving your first bands, no easy task. The same will be for this band. You have now strengthened your bodies, strengthened them well, but as everyone knows, it is useless without the mind,” Perry said as he tapped the side of his head with two fingers and continued his pacing.

“If Roarie’s class put your body into fighting shape, then this class will most certainly thrust your MIND into fighting shape. You will learn mathematical battle strategies, philosophies . . .” The teacher rambled on, but all Gisbo heard was math. His absolute worst subject in the history of his schooling. Why? Why did there have to be math? He groaned under his breath and rolled his eyes, seeing Rolce grin again. How many times must his stomach lurch this morning? Good thing he never ate breakfast, making up for it with huge lunches and dinners, or else Rolce might be wearing it.

The remainder of the day consisted of the usual rules of the road for Perry’s class and the handing out of several textbooks, about as thick as a log in some cases. The day finally ended as Gisbo and Rolce gathered all their books and began walking out into a now sunny afternoon, the light glistening on the icicles hanging from the rooftops. Gisbo sighed with relief that the first class was over. It was then Gisbo saw Rake exit the class by himself. He strutted off across the field alone as his two synergy mates came out, stared at him walking away and shook their heads.

“I’ll never understand that guy and, ugh, damn it all!” Crass Bastio let out a wail of misery before continuing. “I’ll never understand why I need to attend school for the second time! It was bad enough in Candia!” Crass wailed again as he dropped his heavy stack of books into the snow, followed by a string of curses. Gisbo was highly amused by this. FINALLY! Somebody he could complain with! Gisbo dropped down to his knees and helped the boy gather his books.

“Hey, let me help ya with those. Just be thankful you don’t have a synergy mate that practically wets himself in excitement at every other word Perry had to say,” Gisbo commented, without looking at Rolce. Gisbo expected to hear Rolce’s voice in retort, but instead he heard another.

“The quest for knowledge is not something to degrade, Renega Gisbo,” said Perry, who stood over him. Gisbo grimaced, afraid to turn around. He didn’t have to because Perry walked round to stand before him
. Boy, is he tall…
was all Gisbo could think while on his knees in the snow.

“Should you continue from this moment with such an attitude, I can promise that no band from me will ever grace your arm. Are we clear, Renega Gisbo?” Perry asked in an emotionless tone.

“Yes, yes, sir.” Gisbo stammered.

“And Renega Crass, books belong on a shelf, not in the snow. Do pick them up for, at 100 tarries a book, I’m sure you would not wish to replace them,” Perry said.

“Why, yes, yes, sir,” Crass stammered as well.

“Great insight today, Rolce, I look forward to spending this semester with you. ‘Til the morrow, gentlemen,” Perry said as he glided through the snow. Rolce looked at both Gisbo and Crass with a big grin.

“Wipe that smirk off,” Gisbo said to Rolce with a snarl.

“Scary guy! As for you, pal, I’d shake your hand, but I don’t feel like dropping these books again. One hundred tarries, can you believe that garbage? All for a diced up tree with ink on it! Gisbo, right?” Crass asked.

“Yeah, and this here is my mate Rolce Moordin, the excitable school boy,” Gisbo said cocking his neck toward Rolce standing beside him, scowling once more at Gisbo's rude introduction. Crass laughed at this.

“Well, I’m Crass Bastio and this here is Whip Miley,” Crass said, also cocking his neck backward to indicate Whip standing behind him. “You’re the synergy with the missing member, aren’t ya?” Crass said, a bit . . . crass, as they began to walk.

“Yeah, unfortunately. We’re working on it though,” Rolce said, not really knowing what else to say on the topic.

“Eh, I only ask because you guys aren’t the only ones. That little bastard Rake up ahead has barely said two words to me and Whip the entire time we’ve lived with him. Well, I guess I shouldn’t call him a bastard; I feel really bad about what happened with his dad and all, poor guy. Me and Whip actually tried being nice to him for a change,” Crass said with a shrug as he nearly toppled his books over once more.

“My class master, Bastio, tells me some pretty bad times are ahead. Lokin’s turn was a total shocker, plus Purah’s death. He said if Purah could be killed that easily, then nobody's safe. Worst part is, we don’t have a stinkin’ clue what they are up to. I wish we could help in some way. Hey, random question, you guys into metal?” Crass asked out of the blue. Gisbo and Rolce both smiled at this.

“Um, as in the music?” Gisbo asked.

“Of course as in the music, dummy!” Crass said.

“Oh, well, yeah! Phoenix Force is good stuff,” Gisbo said with a grin. Gisbo noticed that Whip grimaced at the name.

“No kiddin'? I like you guys already! Whip hates Phoenix Force unfortunately, says all their rifts sound the same. I say screw you, man! Stuff is fast, fast, fast! Love it! Supposedly they're around touring right now, they're all Renegades, ya know. They actually keep their Renegade outfits on stage when they tour. Everyone thinks it's part of the act, not really knowing they're the real deal. It's pretty awesome! You ever been to their concerts?” Crass asked. Gisbo and Rolce both shook their heads.

“Ah! Just you wait ‘til they come back to Heaven’s Shelter; I’ll show you guys the meaning of head banging and mosh pits. You’ll love it! I saw ‘em play back in my hometown once,” Crass said excitedly.

“You guys have fun with that. If you want REAL metal, listen to Megallalite. Phoenix Force uses too much essential energy to make their music and it always sounds the same. I know my music, trust me, and that stuff is terrible,” Whip said in retort. Crass pursed his lips together in a grimace.

“You think just because you got super human hearing and stuff you know sooo much about music! Music all sounds the same to any eardrums, buddy! No matter how it is made!” Crass argued. It was then Gisbo noticed that Whip’s headband was not over his forehead, but rather it was over his eyes!

“Hey um, are you, well, I mean, are you . . .” Gisbo stammered.

“Blind? No, I just hate my eye color,” Whip said.

“Really?” Gisbo asked.

“You’re a little slow on the uptake, eh guy? Yeah, I’m blind alright,” Whip said.

“Well, sorry! I just, I dunno, it was an awkward thing to ask,” Gisbo said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I get it all the time. Your next question was probably how do you fight if you can’t see! Blah, blah, blah. Go ahead, take a swing, tough guy, at my face. Go ahead, do it, you won’t,” Whip said.

“WHAT? I ain’t gonna hit a blind kid! Only thing worse is punching a baby or something,” Gisbo said. Whip only smiled.

“Just do it, Whip loves this. Trust me, he’ll be fine,” Crass said.

“You sure? I mean,” Gisbo stammered again.

“Just hit me, spazz! Or do you gotta get on all fours to do it? Come on, mutt, throw me one!” Whip goaded. Gisbo had heard enough, he lashed out with a swing that Whip ducked, leaving Gisbo hitting air.

“How’d you do that?” Gisbo asked with surprise.

“I got to admit, your swing is a lot faster than most, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as I hear the air current change, I know when to step aside,” Whip explained with a big smile.

“Amazing!” Rolce said.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that, it’s freaky,” Whip said to Rolce.

“How do you know I’m . . .” Rolce started, until Gisbo interrupted him.

“Yeah, but how could you attack back?” Gisbo asked.

“Easy! My Boon of course. I call him Stewie. Well, he calls himself Stewie actually. Hey! I know! Don’t tell me I didn’t hear you right! Psh,” Whip scolded the air.

“So you’re a Naforian too? I didn’t hear your Boon speak,” Rolce wondered aloud.

“No, no, I’m an Aquarian. Beach type, water skeeting, all that good stuff. I can just tell when Stewie’s giving me an attitude,” Whip said as he lifted up the back of his cloak to reveal a sleeping fruit bat, hanging upside down from his uniform.

“But he’s sleeping,” Rolce argued.

“Bah! He pretends! But yeah, this little guy can fly around and screech in the direction I need to attack, along with a variety of other tricks. I’ll show you sometime, so quit looking at me all weird like I’m handicapped. I’m actually better off than you, eyes only deceive you. I used to see once, saw all I needed to see before the accident. Now I can water skeet, or as I call it, skurfing, at night or day, don’t matter. I got all the waves I wanted back home, no crowds! Was awesome! I look forward to visiting good old Aquaria again. You should see the ladies there! Boy! At some places, beach clothing is just an option. I remember a time when . . .” Whip continued only to be cut off by Crass.

“You done? Boy, do you just carry on sometimes, jeesh. As I was saying, you’ll have to come with me next time Phoenix Force plays,” Crass said.

“Sweet! Hey, you guys up for lunch? You ever have sushi?” Gisbo asked hopefully.

“Stuff tastes like watery gum,” Crass said.

“Rather take a kick to my nuts,” Whip added.

“No, you wouldn’t!” Gisbo fired back.

“Try me,” Whip said, opening his legs.

“Damn it…” Gisbo replied.

“It’s all right, we’ll just eat something else. Meet you guys back in the commons, gonna go drop off these stupid books. See you guys in a bit!” Crass said as both he and Whip waved and trekked off in the opposite direction towards their dwelling.

“That Whip guy was incredible, huh? I heard when people lose their sight their other senses strengthen by a huge margin, but I thought it was only a rumor; guess I was wrong. Imagine what he could do if he got those senses backed by elemental essence! Pretty cool guys though. I’m down for some soup, what about you?” Rolce asked as they arrived at their dorm and added their books to their giant shelf.

“I could go for some soup, its freakin' cold as hell outside,” Gisbo said as he ruffled Fao behind the ears.

“You do know hell is supposed to be hot, not cold. You really NEED schooling. I don’t see how you're gonna pass,” Rolce gibed.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just gonna copy off you. It’s how I got through school before and it will work again,” Gisbo grinned rakishly. Rolce looked appalled by the notion.

“Oh no, you're not! It's completely unethical!” Rolce said with obvious offense.

“Bah! It’s not unethical if you don’t know what 'unethical' means! I’ll revel in my ignorance, thank you very much!” Gisbo fired back.

“You're hopeless and you better be nice to me. I’ll gladly help you, but you are doing your own work! Understand?” Rolce said, pointing again.

“Nope and point that thing somewhere else! Always with the pointing!” Gisbo said, whacking Rolce’s accusing finger aside as he got a running start and jumped from the porch balcony into the deep snow below with a loud, “WAHOO!” Rolce just sighed as he ran to follow suit, smiling as he landed next to his best friend.

“Well, I know what we are doing when we are done with work today,” Rolce beamed happily.

“Hell yeah! Come on, let's grab some food!” Gisbo said, patting his friend on the back as they went to meet Crass and Whip for lunch.

The boys went to Renegade Joe’s Steakhouse for a good portion of sausage and spinach soup. It kept their bellies warm for the rest of the day as Gisbo and Rolce chatted with their new friends, then said their goodbyes and went to work at the mach shop. The shop was exceptionally busy today because people wanted the newest model of lightweight snow skeets and poles. Ernie, Dave and Shaved couldn’t make them quick enough as Grandfield attended to all the customers needs and Rolce totaled up the orders at a rapid pace. Gisbo just shoveled snow, cleaned and shoveled more snow with grunts of displeasure.

The weeks went by uniformly as Gisbo and Rolce fell into yet another strict schedule of morning class, lunch, work, exercise, homework, then bed, only to get up and do it all over again. Gisbo at least got a break from homework every once in a while as he’d steal and copy Rolce’s work when he fell asleep. It wasn’t easy to pull off and a few times Harpie squawked in retort to wake Rolce. Only by slipping Harpie a few pieces of Falcon’s marinated raw steak did Harpie oblige. Gisbo always ended up leaving a few problems wrong anyways, just to avoid suspicion. There was no way he could pull off perfect scores like Rolce did.

Gisbo found he really only needed to do this for “busy work” and always for math. He actually enjoyed learning about Thera’s real history and especially the various views of the ancient philosophers and the authors of stories that they influenced. He was waiting in anticipation for a certain class in which Perry said he would tell of theories of how Thera came to be and before he knew it, there he was, seated in Perry’s class as the wise instructor told the tale.