1.09 – Preparation

So the date was decided: tomorrow, seven AM, I'd be throwing down with my captain, an urban yeti, and a mystery man. I'd be fine if I weren't scared out of my ass. I'd been lying on my bunk for what felt like hours, though the clock hanging from the wall by its own wiring told me it had been seventeen minutes. Why was I even scared? It wasn't like he was gonna kill me, and I knew I could handle scrubbing bathrooms 'till we reached port. Was I just afraid of eating my own words? Was it that I was afraid of finding out if what I had been taught while I was still plugged in was bullshit?

Fuck it. I wasn't gonna fall asleep and I knew it. I walked out onto the main deck, where I found Felix hard at work, typing away.

"Mornin', Felix," I said, pretending to be sleepy.

"Mornin'. Just a sec," he hit a couple more keys and turned around, "What's up?"

"Could you load somethin' up for me? Sleep's not gonna happen, and I need to get myself for my beating tomorrow."

"Well, if you're looking for a stress reliever," he looked through his stack of data chips, "I'm sure I got a harem program I could hook you up with."

I shook my head. "No, you got anything more tranquil? Like a lake or somethin'?"

"I'm gonna have t' check," again he looked through his sea of chips, "I don't normally get requests for lakes. In the mood for a swim or something?"

"Nah, I'm thinking about practicing."

"Practicing? I think praying is more in order. "

"A real fucking help you are."

"Yeah, I know. Hold on," he sat up, "No lakes, but I got here the setting for your fight. Pretty tranquil when you're not getting your ass kicked. Care t' give it a go?"

Felix strapped me in and loaded the program up, and, as if by magic, I'm smack-dab in the middle of a dojo. This was my first time in the Construct since my encounter with the white room, but at least I was prepared for what was gonna happen.

I sat down, crossed my legs, and slowed my breath. Slowly, my eyes let themselves close. Bit by bit, I emptied my mind of everything; gone were my fears of losing; gone was my desire to find my father, gone was my affection for the girl I knew I would never have. My mind was now empty.

I began the fight in my head. First, I fought against Argonaut only, his fighting style superior of my own. It seemed as if his dominate style was... I couldn't figure out. Something was gnawing at my brain. Capoeira. That damned style I only knew half of had creeped back into my mind. I pushed it away, and went back to my fight. This time, I could tell Argonauts dominate style; Wushu. This time I brought Jiom into the picture. Their combination of attacks was too much for me to handle, then my mind went blank. Damnit! Once again I was interrupted by Capoeira. I threw the thought of the style out of my head, but it just came back. Finally, I gave up; I emptied my mind of the fight, and focused only on the Art that relentlessly prodded my mind. I hummed a low note as my mind created a beat. I saw myself dancing in an unpredictable pattern – the Ginga. From the Ginga, I flipped, stood on my head, kicked, but I was still lacking the subtleties that the poetry of the motion was made off of.

I went back to the Ginga, this time focusing on how the body moved between the steps, but I saw nothing. I abandoned the Ginga for the moment, and went to the music that my mind was generating. Maybe it held the secret to the magic that was denied me through Felix's training express lane, but to no avail. I almost gave up when it hit me: This time, I looked at the moves, I listened to the music, and I saw it; I wasn't fighting, but through my movements I told a story; a beautiful story of a man with no legs who grew wings. I changed the pattern in which I moved and the story changed.

Quickly, I focused back on the fight against me and the two masters. If only I could find out the third person I was facing, but alas, I guess I was gonna have to wait to find out. I continued meditating on the fight until I fell asleep in the program.