Chapter 5
The clash of swords filled the auditorium.
Phil Jackson stood watching the two figures slashing and stabbing at each other. It was his friend Rayen's Saturday swordsmanship class, and he was there, like always, to watch before he and Rayen went back to hang out and do whatever they felt like. But today was different in many aspects. Rayen's fighting, first of all. Phil had never seen Rayen fight like this. He was good, but today he was incredible.
There was also the new sword. Phil had never seen it before. Perhaps he had gotten it yesterday as a belated birthday present from an aunt or something. But that sword looked like it cost a fortune. Phil wondered who would spend that much money on a thing like that for someone's birthday. But he put these questions out of his mind and watched the fight.
Phil was correct in thinking Rayen had never fought like this before. Rayen had never felt such a cold conciousness in battle. His mind was ahead of his body, determining the time and place to strike so quickly his arms couldn't keep up. His new blade snapped left, right, down, up, spun, feinted, and thrust so quickly his opponent had to spent all his time blocking instead of pressing an attack of his own. One hit, two, four, six... Rayen lost count, he was moving too fast.
Eventually Rayen's opponent had to duck and roll over to avoid losing his stomach. Rayen had not expected this, and it gave his adversary a chance to attack. The stroke was a clumsy one, however, and Rayen responded by hooking his blade behind his assailant's crosspieces. With a twist of his wrist, Rayen sent his opponent's sword flying from his hand. His opponent, unarmed, raised his hands in surrender.
"Alright, that's enough. Time's up for today. Be ready for next Saturday, same time, same place," the instructor intoned over the group of fencers.
Phil and Rayen walked out of the auditorium.
"Damn! You were a machine back there!"
Rayen nodded. This state of mind, he thought, was surely another after- effect of his Dragoon-hood. Rayen wasn't altogether sure he liked it. It seemed almost bloodthirsty the way his mind knew what to do before he did it. Did he really want to become a killer?
As the disembodied voice of Dart Field had told him, he really didn't have much choice. Perhaps 'killer' was too strong a word. The monsters he had fought had attacked him first. Besides, if the voice he heard in his dream was any guide, it seemed all too likely that war would break out. Killing people during war was not considered a crime, just duty. Maybe he was being too hard on himself.
As if Phil could read Rayen's mind, he suddenly spoke.
"Hey, why don't you ditch work today and we can go screw around for the rest of the day?"
"Works for me. I've never used any of my vacation days, I've got two weeks of credit. Hand me a phone."
Phil handed him his cell phone and Rayen called his boss and told him he was taking the day off. Then he got in the car and stashed his sword in the back seat.
"So, what should we do?
"How about we go see some super-gory movie my mom would never let us see if she was still alive? I got my paycheck yesterday, I could buy the tickets and snacks and junk."
"Works for me!"
Phil drove them to the nearest movie theater, and they got out. Rayen shoved his sword under the back seat, in case someone decided to go window shopping in the parking lot. They paid for tickets and went in. Once inside, they immediately headed to the snack bar, where they bought as much popcorn, soda, and candy as they could carry and went off to the movie.
About two hours later (I'm not going to describe the movie, it would take too long and this story's violent enough as it is), Rayen and Phil came out of the theater laughing.
"Damn, I didn't know a guy's head could explode like that!"
"It probably can't."
"Good point."
Rayen checked his watch.
"It's past 5:30. What do you want to do now?"
"We could go grab a pizza. There's a place nearby that's good and has a pretty big arcade too."
"Sure, as long as you buy the pizza and soda. We can split the game cost."
"Sounds fair to me."
So they pulled out of the parking lot and drove over to the pizza parlor.
They walked inside and ordered at the counter. In a few minutes, a steaming hot pizza (pepperoni) was dropped off at their table. They filled up their soda and ate, even though they had all those snacks at the movie theater (damn, the sugar high these guys must be on makes me bounce, and all I'm doing is writing about it). After they finished, they walked over to the arcade section. Rayen let out a low whistle. A gigantic arcade, complete with dart boards and an air hockey table, were laid out before them.
Yes folks, pizza, soda, and video games; a teenage boy's heaven on earth. They each got five bucks worth of change and headed for the air hockey table.
"See, wasn't this a good idea?"
"Yeah."
Rayen couldn't chance a longer response, he was losing badly. Phil was much better than he was at air hockey. He blocked a shot, but Phil returned the puck with a vicious backhand that sent the disc bouncing of the walls and into Rayen's goal for Phil's tenth and final goal. He grinned. Rayen merely jerked his thumb toward the arcade games.
Meanwhile, back at the big skyscraper from the last chapter...
"Have the scientists identified the energy signature taken from the recorders where Corain died?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Have them program it into the tracer and give it to our agent."
"Yes sir."
The assistant left. The man at the mahogany desk mused to himself once he was alone once more.
"Another potential annoyance dealt with. There will be more, to be sure, but we will deal with them when the time comes."
(If you're expecting the usual diabolical laugh here, you're out of luck. Sorry.)
A few hours later, Phil examined his watch as best he could while holding off Rayen's furious assault.
"Hey, it's getting pretty late. What do you say we head back to my place and crash for the night."
"OK."
Rayen pushed a few buttons, and his character executed a fantastic 37- hit combo that sent Phil's character flying off the screen. He laughed at Phil's amazed expression.
"$%&#! How the hell did you do that?"
"Payback for the air hockey match."
Phil grumbled as they left. They got in the car, and Rayen checked to see if his sword was still in the back seat. Satisfied, they left for Phil's house.
Meanwhile, the agent stood on the sidewalk of another street. He examined the tracer. He saw the direction their car was headed. He knew the area well enough from the maps he had read to know which way they were going. He instructed the crews where to place the road blocks, then handed them a handful of bills.
Phil and Rayen drove down one of the streets towards Phil's home.
"This street seems awfully deserted."
"Yeah. You'd think there'd be more people out on a Saturday night."
They came to the intersection. Phil turned right, only to encounter a road block.
"Damn!"
"Take the left fork. We'll go the long way around."
They turned around and drove to the left fork, only to discover that it was blocked as well.
"#$%^&#% road contruction!"
They doubled back. They got to the intersection, then Phil slammed on the brakes. There was a figure in their headlights.
"Sweet mother of Soa the Creator," Phil breathed.
Rayen looked up, distracted. He instantly snapped to attention when he saw the figure.
In their headlights stood a Jade Dragoon, a heavy spiked mace at his side.
Rayen swore and reached into the back for his sword and into his pocket for the Dragoon Spirit, which gleamed eagerly.
He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
The clash of swords filled the auditorium.
Phil Jackson stood watching the two figures slashing and stabbing at each other. It was his friend Rayen's Saturday swordsmanship class, and he was there, like always, to watch before he and Rayen went back to hang out and do whatever they felt like. But today was different in many aspects. Rayen's fighting, first of all. Phil had never seen Rayen fight like this. He was good, but today he was incredible.
There was also the new sword. Phil had never seen it before. Perhaps he had gotten it yesterday as a belated birthday present from an aunt or something. But that sword looked like it cost a fortune. Phil wondered who would spend that much money on a thing like that for someone's birthday. But he put these questions out of his mind and watched the fight.
Phil was correct in thinking Rayen had never fought like this before. Rayen had never felt such a cold conciousness in battle. His mind was ahead of his body, determining the time and place to strike so quickly his arms couldn't keep up. His new blade snapped left, right, down, up, spun, feinted, and thrust so quickly his opponent had to spent all his time blocking instead of pressing an attack of his own. One hit, two, four, six... Rayen lost count, he was moving too fast.
Eventually Rayen's opponent had to duck and roll over to avoid losing his stomach. Rayen had not expected this, and it gave his adversary a chance to attack. The stroke was a clumsy one, however, and Rayen responded by hooking his blade behind his assailant's crosspieces. With a twist of his wrist, Rayen sent his opponent's sword flying from his hand. His opponent, unarmed, raised his hands in surrender.
"Alright, that's enough. Time's up for today. Be ready for next Saturday, same time, same place," the instructor intoned over the group of fencers.
Phil and Rayen walked out of the auditorium.
"Damn! You were a machine back there!"
Rayen nodded. This state of mind, he thought, was surely another after- effect of his Dragoon-hood. Rayen wasn't altogether sure he liked it. It seemed almost bloodthirsty the way his mind knew what to do before he did it. Did he really want to become a killer?
As the disembodied voice of Dart Field had told him, he really didn't have much choice. Perhaps 'killer' was too strong a word. The monsters he had fought had attacked him first. Besides, if the voice he heard in his dream was any guide, it seemed all too likely that war would break out. Killing people during war was not considered a crime, just duty. Maybe he was being too hard on himself.
As if Phil could read Rayen's mind, he suddenly spoke.
"Hey, why don't you ditch work today and we can go screw around for the rest of the day?"
"Works for me. I've never used any of my vacation days, I've got two weeks of credit. Hand me a phone."
Phil handed him his cell phone and Rayen called his boss and told him he was taking the day off. Then he got in the car and stashed his sword in the back seat.
"So, what should we do?
"How about we go see some super-gory movie my mom would never let us see if she was still alive? I got my paycheck yesterday, I could buy the tickets and snacks and junk."
"Works for me!"
Phil drove them to the nearest movie theater, and they got out. Rayen shoved his sword under the back seat, in case someone decided to go window shopping in the parking lot. They paid for tickets and went in. Once inside, they immediately headed to the snack bar, where they bought as much popcorn, soda, and candy as they could carry and went off to the movie.
About two hours later (I'm not going to describe the movie, it would take too long and this story's violent enough as it is), Rayen and Phil came out of the theater laughing.
"Damn, I didn't know a guy's head could explode like that!"
"It probably can't."
"Good point."
Rayen checked his watch.
"It's past 5:30. What do you want to do now?"
"We could go grab a pizza. There's a place nearby that's good and has a pretty big arcade too."
"Sure, as long as you buy the pizza and soda. We can split the game cost."
"Sounds fair to me."
So they pulled out of the parking lot and drove over to the pizza parlor.
They walked inside and ordered at the counter. In a few minutes, a steaming hot pizza (pepperoni) was dropped off at their table. They filled up their soda and ate, even though they had all those snacks at the movie theater (damn, the sugar high these guys must be on makes me bounce, and all I'm doing is writing about it). After they finished, they walked over to the arcade section. Rayen let out a low whistle. A gigantic arcade, complete with dart boards and an air hockey table, were laid out before them.
Yes folks, pizza, soda, and video games; a teenage boy's heaven on earth. They each got five bucks worth of change and headed for the air hockey table.
"See, wasn't this a good idea?"
"Yeah."
Rayen couldn't chance a longer response, he was losing badly. Phil was much better than he was at air hockey. He blocked a shot, but Phil returned the puck with a vicious backhand that sent the disc bouncing of the walls and into Rayen's goal for Phil's tenth and final goal. He grinned. Rayen merely jerked his thumb toward the arcade games.
Meanwhile, back at the big skyscraper from the last chapter...
"Have the scientists identified the energy signature taken from the recorders where Corain died?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Have them program it into the tracer and give it to our agent."
"Yes sir."
The assistant left. The man at the mahogany desk mused to himself once he was alone once more.
"Another potential annoyance dealt with. There will be more, to be sure, but we will deal with them when the time comes."
(If you're expecting the usual diabolical laugh here, you're out of luck. Sorry.)
A few hours later, Phil examined his watch as best he could while holding off Rayen's furious assault.
"Hey, it's getting pretty late. What do you say we head back to my place and crash for the night."
"OK."
Rayen pushed a few buttons, and his character executed a fantastic 37- hit combo that sent Phil's character flying off the screen. He laughed at Phil's amazed expression.
"$%&#! How the hell did you do that?"
"Payback for the air hockey match."
Phil grumbled as they left. They got in the car, and Rayen checked to see if his sword was still in the back seat. Satisfied, they left for Phil's house.
Meanwhile, the agent stood on the sidewalk of another street. He examined the tracer. He saw the direction their car was headed. He knew the area well enough from the maps he had read to know which way they were going. He instructed the crews where to place the road blocks, then handed them a handful of bills.
Phil and Rayen drove down one of the streets towards Phil's home.
"This street seems awfully deserted."
"Yeah. You'd think there'd be more people out on a Saturday night."
They came to the intersection. Phil turned right, only to encounter a road block.
"Damn!"
"Take the left fork. We'll go the long way around."
They turned around and drove to the left fork, only to discover that it was blocked as well.
"#$%^&#% road contruction!"
They doubled back. They got to the intersection, then Phil slammed on the brakes. There was a figure in their headlights.
"Sweet mother of Soa the Creator," Phil breathed.
Rayen looked up, distracted. He instantly snapped to attention when he saw the figure.
In their headlights stood a Jade Dragoon, a heavy spiked mace at his side.
Rayen swore and reached into the back for his sword and into his pocket for the Dragoon Spirit, which gleamed eagerly.
He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.