An Interesting Day
Kren slept through the night, the entire next day, and the night following it. He was awakened by Dol.
"Wakey, wakey, you fabulous warrior! Today is a school day!"
Kren stumbled to the toilet, then to his drinking fountain, and finally to a mirror, where he examined his brands. The pain in his arms had subsided to a dull ache, and the burns were almost healed. Millions of years of selective breeding had given the Mitchegai remarkably resilient bodies. His head, however, felt almost as fuzzy as when he had eaten a portion of Bronki's brain. He hadn't eaten that much of the Greenie's brain, but what he had didn't seem to want to fit in with the rest of him.
Once dressed, Dol walked him to class, to be sure that he didn't get lost.
"I didn't get a chance to talk to you the other night, but I got there in time to see what you did to that last sword swinger," Dol said. "You were unbelievably fast! Whap! Whap! And there she was, three pieces on the floor!"
"Yes, well, tell me, what do you know about pistols?"
Many of the dreams he'd had in his long sleep had been about various weird weapons, and about the many strange ways that a person could die.
"I've heard how they work, but I've never seen one. Someone said that Bronki owns one. That was what made those explosions, the other afternoon, wasn't it?"
"Best we not talk about it," Kren said. "That's my college there, isn't it?"
"Yes. All of your classes this term will be in the building to the left, on the top floor. That's where they do their remedial learning. I put a copy of your schedule in your new book bag. I'll have to leave you now, since I've got classes of my own to get to. Do you know how to get to the gym from here?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then I'll see you back at Bronki's place, this evening."
Kren was in a fog all morning. He dutifully went to each class at the beating of the gong, took notes on the instructor's name, and all else that seemed important, but mostly his thoughts were on weapons and death. Most of them, things that sprayed fire, or bombs that exploded under your feet, struck him as being foolish. And could a gas really be used to kill?
But more and more kept surfacing on a system of fighting without any weapons at all. How to kill with a kick or a blow, where your claws could sink the deepest, and how to avoid these things from happening to you. Kren could see that this technique could be very useful, if ever he was deprived of his sword and his spear.
Two of his instructors commented on his lack of attention in class, for which Kren dutifully apologized. But in truth, he was sure that the athletic director would never permit him to flunk out, so long as his athletic and weapons skills stayed with him, and so he wasn't terribly worried about it.
Finally, the sixth gong sounded, and he had an hour to find the gymnasium and prepare himself for three hours of physical training.
He got lost twice in the complicated city, laid out without a single right-angled turn, and completely without roads or street signs. He arrived three minutes late.
Fortunately, Dik was the forgiving sort.
"Every new freshman gets lost at least three times in the first week," she said. "Just see to it that next week, you are here on time. We'll spend an hour with the sword, and then I'll turn you over to your javelin instructor. Here is the number and combination to your locker. Be back here in six minutes."
Kren worked as diligently as he could, but his performance was much worse than it had been a few days before. The coach had given him twelve legal touches in six minutes.
"What's wrong with you, Kren?"
"Coach, the pain in my arms from the new branding was bothering me, and I ate too much, the night before last."
"You should have bought the anesthetic," Dik said, easily parrying an awkward attack and touching him yet again with her épée.
"I did buy it! But I don't think that I actually received it."
"That happens. The trash probably saved herself two Ke by cheating you."
"She charged me twelve Ke! If she'd wanted more money, she could have asked for more, and I'd have willingly paid it!"
"Then she probably just enjoyed watching you endure the pain. Visit her, but don't kill her. Just cause her more pain than she caused you."
"I am unfamiliar with civilian ways. Is such a thing permitted?"
"I'm not sure that it's permitted, but it is surely commonly done. How else can the trash be trained to respect their betters?"
"Thank you, Coach. I shall act on your advice."
"Do it in a few days, when you are feeling back to your normal self. For now, on guard!"
The rest of the fencing session went badly for Kren, and he was glad when he was sent out to the javelin field.
A Mitchegai who always referred to herself as "The Master of Javelins" soon had her three dozen athletes standing rigidly in a neat line, with their eyes facing forward. Strutting like the martinet that she was, she started by explaining the rules of the games to them.
There were four competitions with the javelin. One was the distance throw, to simply see who could make a standard javelin go the farthest. Each contestant got three throws, and only the longest one counted.
The second was for accuracy. Each contestant had three throws at each of four targets, all shots counted, and the winner was the athlete who had the highest total score.
The third was a game similar to the Earthly game of tennis, or ping pong, save that it was played with javelins, with the two opponents being required to catch any javelins that might fall within a designated area, and throw them back within two seconds. Also, the "net" was a solid wall half again taller than the contestants. The spectators could see where both of the players were, but the participants couldn't. This put a large element of luck into the game, but made it popular with spectators. The javelins used had blunt tips, for safety reasons.
The fourth competition was played with two teams of six players each, and played on a much larger court. Otherwise, it was much like the two player game.
Kren was taught the distance and accuracy games on his first day of training, and even though he was still drowsy from too much eating, and confused because of his new brain cells, after an hour with the new javelin, he did better than any of the other athletes present.
Twice, he threw his javelin entirely out of the arena.
The Master of Javelins called all of her athletes around before she dismissed them.
"I want you all to stay silent about what you saw Kren do today. The rules permit any of us to place any wagers that we wish, except that we may not bet that we will lose, or that our opponents win. I plan on betting heavily on Kren at our first competition in four weeks. If everybody knows what he can do, the odds on him will go down to nothing. Enough said? Good. Dismissed!"
As he was going back to the locker room, the master stopped him and said, "Kren, you are the best throw I've ever seen. But starting tomorrow, I don't want to see you throwing any more javelins out of the stadium. What we are going to work on is throwing just a little bit beyond what the next best man on the field has done. If you keep throwing half again better than anybody else, the betting on javelin distance throwing will drop to zero, and we'll all lose money. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, madam. That seems to be a very sensible program to me."
Never having admired or envied anyone famous, Kren couldn't imagine wanting fame, so setting records meant nothing at all to him.
After a pleasant rubdown, he returned homeward.
Once again he found that he was lost, but a memory from the last brain he had partially eaten told him that if he went down a certain nearby staircase, he could quickly get to the train station, from which it was a straight walk to Bronki's place.
He soon found himself in an absolutely dark tunnel that he had never been in before, but which nonetheless seemed familiar. The complete darkness would have caused most Mitchegai problems, but Kren's nine gross years in the darkness of the mines had sharpened his other senses.
This had nothing to do with any sort of hypothetical ESP. It was more a matter of being attuned to the slight rustling of clothing, the slight breeze of a body coming close to you, the echo of your own breath and footsteps returning from all that was around you.
He felt, rather than heard or saw, two persons step out in front of him, and two more behind.
"Stop where you are," a voice to his forward left said in the darkness. "Drop your credit card and all of your money on the floor, and you will be permitted to leave unharmed."
"Giving you all of my money would be most inconvenient for me. I have had a difficult day, and I am not in the mood for further social interactions. Leave me alone, and I will agree to cause the four of you no harm whatsoever."
"You are a fool."
"No, I am a warrior," Kren said.
"You have been warned."
"So have you."
Kren felt, or perhaps heard, them approaching. He dropped his book bag and drew his sword. He heard the one closest, to the front left, hesitate, and then he heard her draw her own blade. Of course knowing that all adult Mitchegai are exactly the same height, Kren stepped forward and made a horizontal swipe with his sword. He felt it connect with the neck, and heard the head separate from the body.
Before he heard the head hit the floor, he heard a slight rustle of cloth as the second mugger in front turned to her right to look at the death of her coworker. This took her a fatal half second, and this was enough time for Kren to decapitate her as well.
One of the muggers to the rear was running forward, but the way that the second hoodlum had turned her head to look troubled Kren. Sensing in the dark, one kept one's head facing forward. How could she see when there wasn't any light?
He turned, took two steps back, ducked low, and felt a sword swinging above his body. His return blow was aimed to be just above the pelvic girdle, and he felt his sword go through the skin and heard the vertebrae sever, but then felt it stop before it was all the way out again. Not a perfect cut, but it was sufficient, having severed all of her major arteries.
Above the cries of the dying third one, the fourth mugger could be heard, running quickly in the opposite direction. Obviously, she had chosen the course of discretion.
Leaving the third one to bleed a bit, he went back to the first pair he had killed. Feeling around with his sword, he found one of the heads he'd removed from its body. Leaning his sword on top of the jaw, to keep it from biting him, he bent over and felt around the face. He found a pair of large and heavy goggles over the eyes.
Removing them, he stood up and put them on. He was startled to find that he could see. Not perfectly, for everything was in blue, black, and shades in between. The focus was poor, with things looking fuzzy. Faces, hands and feet looked much brighter than clothing, he could make out the footsteps where he and they had stepped. There seemed to be a strange slowness between the time he moved his hand before his face, and the time that he actually saw it move.
Nonetheless, with this device, one could see in the dark!
With the possibility of more such interesting objects in the offing, Kren carefully searched the three hoodlums he had killed. Besides two more pairs of goggles, there were dozens of other weapons, pouches, and objects.
Most interestingly, the first mugger he had killed had a pistol in a nicely tooled leather holster at her belt. Kren pulled it out and found that he knew precisely how it worked. The bits of brain he had eaten a few days before had been more useful than he had supposed.
It seemed that a swordsman's normal desire to test his opponent had cost this mugger her life. She could easily have stood back and shot her supposed victim.
Kren was strongly tempted to take a shot with it, but then decided that the noise might attract unwanted attention. And perhaps it was a fear of the noise that had stopped the mugger from shooting him.
A further search of the body revealed four filled clips, and an additional box of ammunition. For now, he put it with the holster and the special belt into his book bag.
He managed to get most of his loot into his bag, and stuck the three new swords under his belt.
Thinking that the fourth mugger might be finding friends to counterattack with, he left as soon as possible. Still suffering from overeating, Kren felt no desire for food.
Walking down the tunnel, he came to a lighted section, and removed his goggles, placing them in his cloak above the outer belt. He soon encountered an old woman who begged him for money, saying that she was hungry.
She was thin and shaking, but her problems looked to be drugs, rather than hunger. Kren did not feel pity, but he did want the evidence of his last encounter to be eliminated.
"Go into that tunnel," he said to her pointing. "Bring along a dozen of your friends, if you wish. You will find a feast there sufficient for all of you."
She thanked him, and scurried down the dark tunnel alone.
On arriving at Bronki's place, he went directly to his room through his back door. Looking in the mirror, he was annoyed to find that his brand new academic cloak had been slashed from shoulder to knee, save where his student belt had protected it. This had happened without his having even been aware of it.
He set down his book bag, dropped his student belt and cloak to the floor, put all four swords on his dresser, removed his inner sword belt, and lay down on the bed. It had been a difficult day, and he was tired.
Before he had fallen asleep, Dol came in.
"Is there anything that I can do for you, sir?"
"Yes. Take everything out of my book bag except for the books, and put it all into a drawer someplace. Take my cloak out and see if it can be repaired. Then go away. I am very tired."
"Yes, sir. May I take the liberty of turning off these thermal imaging goggles? If you leave them on, the batteries will run down."
"By all means. Do anything else that you feel to be necessary, as well. But then go away."
"As you wish, sir. May I comment on the rest of this booty?"
"You may not."
"Yes, sir."
"Go!"