The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus (10 page)

BOOK: The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus
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Chapter 1
2: Bluebacks

 

Janus groggily awoke to the sound of a blaring alarm and bright, artificial sunlight. 
Wha?  Where--?
He instinctively glanced right, searching for Clara in her armchair, but only the empty wall of Valhalla greeted him. 
That’s right.

Stumbling out of bed, the alarm shut off as soon as his feet hit the floor.  He flopped back into the bed only for the blaring to begin again.  Resigning himself to his misery, he planted bo
th feet firmly on the floor and stood up.  He quickly pulled on the uniform that slid from the wall.  He took a moment to savor the experience, even in his groggy state.  Dressed for the first time in a full cadet uniform – black Adept armor with a wide blue stripe running down his front left side, all the way down his leg, and a similar stripe on the back – Janus felt elated.  This elation lasted but a moment, however, as a daedulus terminal popped from the wall and chided him about his poor dress.  A button here, a flap there, the daedulus went through a full routine on how to dress, even down to the order of what got put on first.  The routine was an ordeal – and almost certainly a waste of time.

Slightly annoyed and rubbing his eyes as he stepped into the common room, Janus watched the others stagger from their rooms as Sergeant Wouris arrived.

 

With Wouris leading the way, the entire platoon was soon
hustling along the hall and out to the grand hall surrounding the trunk.  Janus noted that the great seal of ODIN remained dark – the sun hadn’t yet risen.  But now that he was moving, Janus felt much better. 

A tingling excitement ran through him, confident of his success in whatever Wouris threw at them.  A hard path encircled the trunk, and Wouris called them to attention as she stood easily at its edge.

“OK, you lot, now I get to see what you’re made of.  We’re just going for a little jog, and you’re going to keep up.  Simple, right?” 

Janus smiled, he was used to running for distances through the slums; jogging would be a cake walk.  “Anyone who cannot keep up receives a jumpstart from my foot.  Understand?”

The cadets grunted agreement.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say?”  She yelled loudly.  A hesitant cry of ‘yes!” sounded.

“Yes, Sergeant Wouris!” Janus said.  She nodded in approval.

“What do you say, cadets?”

“Yes, Sergeant Wouris!”  The cadets chorused.

“Alright, here we go!”  She took off at what appeared as nothing less than a dead sprint.  The cadets didn’t move, instead watching in stunned silence.  Janus was suddenly less confident in his ability to keep up – let alone run that fast.  He could hear Celes whisper to Lyn, “That’s jogging?”

Wouris had already covered a quarter of the distance when she turned to run backward, shouting, “What are you doing?  Get moving!”

 

Janus briefly registered between gasps that some length of time had passed, how much he wasn’t sure.  Not many cadets were still running, let alone standing.  Several had fainted.  Many were collapsed upon the track, and of those that hadn’t, most had trouble moving their legs.

He had tried to keep up
with Wouris, but had only been able to go a few minutes before he had to slow down.  And then the kicks had started.  He had heard them from the back at first, as cadets had yelled out in pain and surprise, but soon he was receiving them like the rest.  The first had nearly buckled his knees and sent him to the ground.

I am… about to die…
and Wouris… isn’t even… breathing hard…

Wouris ran in circles around the cadets, taunting them, while a few Adept bystanders pulled the unconscious cadets out the way, dropping them on Wouris’ order into the shallow river.  Most came up spluttering, although a few had to be lain on the stone bank, with the waters lapping around them.

“Come on, you worthless bluebacks.  I’m going to start putting some weight behind those kicks if you don’t start moving.”

Pain racked Janu
s’ body.  He didn’t know how Wouris could put more weight behind her kicks, but he didn’t want to find out.  His bruises throbbed, and his legs felt like lead. 

Unfortunately, since nearly every other cadet had collapsed, Janus was now one of a few receiving special attention from Wouris and her lightning-like kick.  Originally he had tried to dodge the blows, but that had only made Wouris kick him faster and harder.  Wouris’ seemed to know exactly how much force to apply to nearly knock her hapless victims
flat; just enough to sting and keep the cadets running.

This… is… insane…
  Janus thought between ragged breaths.  His head rolled around to see who was still running, nearly toppling him over as he did so.

Wouris was currently focused on Marcus, the only other cadet still standing.  Celes was crawling, Ramirez had finally gone unconscious, and Lyn was grimacing while she lay spread eagle upon the floor.  Across the bridge, he could see a crowd of Adepts, chuckling amongst themselves.

             

Janus was the last cadet to fall
.  

“Well then, that was a refreshing start to the day, don’t you agree?”  Wouris said nonchalantly, wiping a few beads of sweat from her brow.

Only a few recruits could muster the strength to moan a reply.  Wouris drew in a few deep breaths, savoring the air.  To Janus, every breath burned.  She struck a pensive pose, “I suppose that might have been a tad difficult, so you have until 1900 hours to rest up and grab a bite to eat.  Return to your quarters, and I’ll see you tonight.”  With that, Wouris turned on her heel and headed for the mess hall, leaving the recruits to tend to themselves.

Celes slowly roused the
will to get up, and motivated Janus and Marcus to assist her in helping the others to stand.  After an eternity, the three inspired the rest to limp in the direction of the bunks. 

Janus, his exhaustion deepened by his lack of sleep the night before, flopped on the floor of his room, too tired to be bothered by the new bed.

Chapter 13: Food?

 

When Janus awoke, his entire body ached from the marathon he had run earlier that day.  After several minutes, he struggled up from the floor and stared at the clock by his bed.  Deep red numbers floated in a crystalline block – it was 1705.  His legs barely functioning, Janus motioned for the lights, gathered what clothes were within reach, and stumbled to the showers.

 

His legs had recovered enough to walk normally, although they stung with every step.  His first experience with a shower had been a mixed one.  He had been savoring the heat and refreshing feeling until an automatic timer had unexpectedly and very suddenly shut off the hot water – leaving only a frozen stream.  The ensuing leap from the shower had resulted in an impressive skid and collision with the opposite wall. 

“Gah...can’t…cold water…” Janus mumbled angrily as returned to his room.

“Cold water,” the feminine daedulus intoned as it lit up.  Janus turned to stare at it. “Common cadet keyword – usually after the first experience in the showers.  All water in Valhalla passes through a central pumping station, where it is directed to the various branches of the city.  To preserve power, heated water is limited in use.  After a preset time limit, hot water is redirected to other levels.  To compensate for flow, water from sublevel E is redirected to the primary barracks blocks.  Sublevel E is located directly adjacent to compartment 56D, the primary cooling tower for the engines.  Hence, cold water.” 

As the
daedulus shut off, a new scream of surprise echoed from the showers.

 

The mess hall, which spanned half of the lower level of the fortress-city, was one place Janus was particularly eager to visit.  The idea of a meeting place that housed all of Valhalla’s food, which was given freely, was a strange dream to Janus.  It was not an impossible thing – he had imagined it was how the Executors lived, but to see it in practice would be something. 

The first thing that impressed Janus was the sheer size of the room; it suddenly became clear the thousands of Mercenaries
,
no, Adepts
, that actually lived within the halls of Valhalla.  Light streamed from huge, thick, curved windows, which wrapped around the length of the mess and cast bright colors across it.  Hundreds of tables sat within the massive area, each seemingly given as much space as the place he and Clara shared.  There were two entrances to the mess, and along the far wall he could see lines of Adepts waiting to pass through the kitchens.  Adjacent to the mess lines sat a door marked as the ‘Officer’s Mess’, closed off from the clattering hall. 

Hundreds of
Adepts filled the room, all of them laughing and talking.  Some were eating or waiting in the mess lines, but others played games and joked.  It was clear that this place was the social hub of the city.  In the far corner, groups of Adepts gathered around and played a strange game that used no dice or cards, but a board.

Janu
s’ curiosity was piqued, but his rumbling stomach reminded him of his immediate purpose.  A feminine voice called out to him, “Janus!”

He turned to see Celes standing by one of the tall windows of the mess, waving to him.  Behind her, he could see Marcus, Lyn and Ramirez were already scarfing down their meals, replenishing their spent energy reserves.

Celes ran over to meet him, “Ready to eat?”

“I think that’s the idea,” Janus said dryly.  Celes gave him a pouting look and he quickly
changed tact, “I wonder what they have?  I’m not used to getting my meals like this.”  The line ahead of the pair moved at a rapid clip.  He picked up a fork, holding it by the tines, “What is this?” he asked.

Celes looked skeptical, “You’ve never seen a fork?”

“A fork?  No, why?”

“How did you eat?”

“Hands work perfectly well,” Janus answered succinctly.

“Oh,” Celes said, pausing, “Where are you from?”

Janus shifted uncomfortably, “Cerberus Corporation.”

Celes waited a few moments for him to add to his statement, and then changed the subject, “Here we go,
now we can see what they’ve got—” she stopped as they approached a cafeteria style buffet line, “Wait—what is that?”  Celes asked, looking alarmed and pointing at a quivering grey mass that was in the first dish.

“Passers!” Janus exclaimed, “This is great!” 

Celes had a disconcerted look on her face, “What?”

Now it was Janus who gave Celes a strange look, “You don’t know what Passers are?  Where are you from?”  Celes pursed her lips and looked down.  Janus waved it off, “Not important.”  She smiled. 

“Actually, Passers are an acronym,” he explained.  “P.S.R.  Prepared Security Rations.  They’re a high-protein plant derivative.  It’s cooked and mixed with different flavorings to create different meals.  See – the brown stuff there, that’s called spaghetti sauce; I understand it’s supposed to taste like something called tomatoes.  And the long white noodles must be the high-fiber variety.  And the orangey blocks, that’s called Salmon.  That’s always good.”

Celes looked
incredulously at the multicolored blocks, “I can see why they got their name.”

Janus began loading up his tray, while Celes hesitantly poked a few of the different foods with her fork. 
He smiled, “Here, take this.”  He handed his tray to her, and took hers, loading it up with a little bit of every food in the line.  “Now you can try everything and see what you like.” 

Celes smiled and nodded, “I suppose I’m willing to try anything once.”  Her smile disappeared as she looked back down at the quivering mass.

Janus followed Celes as she made her way back to the table where Ramirez, Marcus, and Lyn were waiting.  The three looked up in surprise at Celes’ tray, which was almost teetering over with food.

“Hungry?”  Lyn asked.

“I’ve never had pass…er, PSRs before, so I’m trying everything to see what I like.”

“Really?”  Lyn said.  “Ramirez and I would trade for Passers all the time in the Outskirts.”

Celes looked up in surprise, “You’re from the Outskirts?”

Lyn nodded proudly, “Ya.  Ramirez and I were born and raised there.”

“Outskirts?”  Marcus and Janus looked confused.  “What’s that?”

“It i
s the areas outside of the main Corporate control.”  Celes said knowledgably, “Officially, there is no territory that isn’t claimed by a Corporation, but logistically, it is impossible to control all of it.  The Outskirts are regions that are beyond any real influence or control, usually because the Corporations have no interests there.  Outskirters are people who live in villages in these uncontrolled regions.”

Janus and Marcus looked impressed. 

“How come I’ve never heard of them before?”  Marcus asked.

Lyn smiled at Ramirez, “Because we hide.”

“And because Corporations don’t exactly want people to know there are those living and surviving freely outside of their control,” Celes said.  “And because, when Corporations do find Outskirters, they take the people and destroy the villages,” she added solemnly.

“Oh,” Janus and Marcus said together.

Lyn and Ramirez were silent, but then Lyn perked up, “So where are ya from, Marcus?”

“Medusa,” he said between mouthfuls of food, “I got here a little over a week ago.  It wasn’t so bad.  I worked in one of the power stations under my parents.  It wasn’t great, but we survived.  I became an Adept after I was drafted into the Medusa security forces.”

“That’s terrible,” Janus, Ramirez, and Lyn echoed together.

Marcus looked up in surprise, “Why?”

“Because Security Troopers are bullying scum,” Janus said.  Lyn and Ramirez nodded in agreement.

Marcus laughed, “That’s true.  But it was also my ticket out of there.  Military is one of the few ways to move up the ladder.  They always need good soldiers, even if they don’t admit it.  And S.T.s keep order and protect people, too.”  He looked at Lyn and Ramirez, “Just because you’ve seen one side of them doesn’t mean they are all bad.  Besides, I was only an S.T. for a day before they decided to make me an Infernus.”  Lyn and Ramirez looked even more repulsed. 
Marcus noticed, because he quickly added, “And then I was tested and made a Mercenary.  So are you going to try those Passers or not?” pointing a fork at Celes’ tray.

Celes looked down; she had clearly been avoiding her food.  Her stomach growled.  Tentatively raising a bite of “meatloaf” to her lips, she quickly shoved the food into her mouth and chewed as fast as she could.  After a few moments, she swallowed, the whole g
roup watching her.  “Not bad,” she smiled weakly.

Everyone laughed.  “No really, not bad,” She said again.

Janus nodded knowingly, “Hunger makes everything more palatable.”

“Too true,” Lyn said, “So let’s stop watching her and eat.”

When the other three had their heads down, Celes carefully picked up her fork and silently motioned how to hold it.  Janus smiled appreciatively and emulated her.

Soon all that could be heard was the clattering of trays and the smacking of lips.

BOOK: The Phoenix Fallacy Book I: Janus
6.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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