2103:12:01:17:05:09

  Saga and I circled each other warily, watching for any openings in the other’s guard. Or I was, at least – Saga had probably seen a number of them in mine already considering her experience with the sport.

  It wasn’t the first time we faced each other today. This was our third match, with her sambo teacher – a Mister Karaketov – allowing all our end-of-class spars to be solely against each other rather than with random people, as was the case for everyone else.

  Newbie’s privilege, I guessed.

  We teased each other with half-serious kicks and strikes, but nothing came of it. It was a simple test of boundaries and range, more for my benefit than Saga’s – no doubt Saga had already gotten a good look at how I operated.

  To prove that sentiment, Saga deemed it was time to get serious. She snapped out a kick aiming low for my ankles. I ducked and made to grab it, ready to move up and in with the takedown she and her teacher had taught me moments during the lesson itself.

  But Saga’s strike was too quick. My grab missed and I’d stepped a little too close.

  Saga took advantage of the opportunity by reaching to grab the lapel of my sambovka. But while I was inexperienced in the art, my experience with real combat and the techniques I’d learned here today allowed me retreat in time and fend off her attacks.

  Admittedly, having an android body – with its added strength and reflexes – also helped. A lot.

  During one of her grapple attempts, I attempted my own kick. She took it in stride and stepped backwards with practiced ease, ending with the two of us returning to circling each other once again.

  This time, it was my turn to take the initiative, aiming for a quick kick to her sides.

  To my surprise, Saga stepped into it and took it on her thigh, following it up with a lightning quick hook. I barely lifted my arm up just in time to catch it on my forearm, preventing her from clocking my jaw with the strike.

  This turned out to be a fatal mistake.

  In my distraction, Saga stepped in deep and low, deep enough for our knees to bump. She then threw herself against my body, with her landing on one knee and her hands grabbing the backs of mine. I tried to counter and get her head into a hold, but, using her grounded knee as a pivot, she stepped even further in with her back leg and pushed her head into my ribs, blocking my attempt.

  Before I could try anything else, she pushed off of the ground at an angle, taking one of my legs with her into the air. All while her other hand was still pushing into the back of my grounded leg, forcing it to buckle.

  Now that I was thoroughly out of position and out of options, she simply walked forwards further and further while pushing my leg higher and higher until she casually threw me on the matted floor.

  A whistle blew to signal the end of the match and polite applause followed – except by Jolie, whose booing was anything but polite. If Millie was here she might’ve been booing too, but unfortunately, she was busy with work. The masked kind.

  Saga marched up to me and offered me a hand, which I took. She lifted me from the floor and patted me on the back with a big grin, clearly in high spirits.

  “Great fight! You sure you haven’t done this before?” she asked.

  Before I could answer, we were interrupted by the teacher clapping loudly. “Alright, good showing you two – especially you Pearsson, keep it up!” Mister Karaketov said, pointing to two other students right after. “Chan, Peters – you’re up!”

  We walked off the mats and joined Jolie at her side. Unlike Saga and I, Jolie had barely participated in the training – she’d said ‘I’m out’ the moment Saga threw her on her back one too many times during training, let alone participate in the actual sparring.

  She gave us our water bottles and we drank, though only Saga was seriously sweating.

  “You almost had her, Sam – I could see it! If she hadn’t lined her pants with steel that kick would’ve taken her down for sure!”

  Saga snorted. “Maybe you want to borrow some of that steel? Might help your spine some.”

  “No thank you,” Jolie said with a disdainful sniff. “I have enough of it on my own, thank you very much. People of my stature simply know when enough is enough.”

  “People of your stature?” Saga asked with one raised eyebrow. “I don’t think being tiny has anything to do with lacking steel.”

  Jolie gasped in shock, one hand lightly touching her heart. “Why, I never-! Servant!” She snapped her fingers at me twice, then pointed at Saga. “Attack this miscreant!”

  I bowed to my faux-master. Saga took a stance, clearly eager for a second round.

  Unfortunately for her, rather than engage all I did was point my bottle. Before her confusion could become realization, I squeezed down hard, a jet of water hitting her face.

  “Take that, evildoer,” I deadpanned as Saga sputtered.

  Jolie rose from her seat on the windowsill, only to pretend faint into my arms. “My hero!” she proclaimed dramatically, back of one hand on her forehead.

  I hesitated only for a second before letting her drop to the matted floor, Jolie’s startled screech causing a few of the students to turn and look at us.

  Saga laughed and opened her mouth to tease Jolie, only for Mister Karaketov to bark, “Williams! Be quiet or take your ass somewhere else!”

  Saga looked like she wanted to object, but ultimately thought better of arguing with her teacher. We obeyed the man’s orders and, after we helped Jolie up and took our stuff, we walked towards a far-off corner at the edge of the hall.

  “Soooo, did you like it?” Saga asked, sounding uncharacteristically awkward, maybe even unsure of herself. A rarity, at least in the time that I’d known her.

  I found I had. Liked it to the point that it surprised me, even if another part of me recognized it shouldn’t have. I was made to be a hero, which meant I was made for combat. Why shouldn’t a combat sport be right up my alley? Because of course every single thing I liked just had to be connected to me being a heroic construct in one way or another.

  It was a bitter realization and soured me a bit on the sport. But ultimately? I liked what I liked. Did the origin of it, the reason why I liked something really matter? I decided that no, at least in this case, it did not.

  It had also helped me to blow off some steam. With Nth-Sight and Crowsong still in their ‘spat’, we’d had no leads, and our patrols were as ineffective as usual. Nth-Sight’s requests towards me alone had likewise had been lackluster – a stakeout and a specific patrol on a specific date-and-time both leading to nothing.

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  Only the infiltration of a Jannacht office to copy a bunch of hard drives on the 26th last month had been a bit exciting at first, but it turned out to be so easy to sneak in and take it that it was wholly unremarkable from start to finish.

  “Yes,” I said emphatically, not letting my inner turmoil shine through. It would only hurt Saga unnecessarily. “I really did.”

  Saga smiled brightly and widely at that, which was always nice to see. Most of the time, Saga had a kind of affected nonchalance to her. Not enough to be called indifference – Saga clearly cared – but unless we were doing something she clearly enjoyed doing, she could come across like one of those ‘perpetually bored’ kind of teenagers.

  Well, either that or anger, but that had never been aimed towards us.

  “So you gonna join up?” Saga asked. “I’m sure Karaketov has space for new students.”

  “I’ll have to ask Mom to be sure,” I said. “But yeah, probably.”

  Saga bounced up and down playfully and threw an arm over my shoulder, shaking my entire body as she put it in a pseudo-headlock.

  “Oh, this is going to be so good!” Saga said. “Just wait – before you know it, you’re gonna wipe the floor with these dweebs!” She looked to the sky (tiled ceiling) and raised her hand out palm first, grasping for the sun (fluorescent light).

  Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by her smell. “You stink,” I said in response, pinching my nose shut.

  “That’s the smell of progress, babe,” Saga returned.

  “Then progress stinks.” I pushed her away and half-pretended to gag. Jolie came over to rub me on the back, ‘awww’-ing and ‘shhh’-ing me in comfort.

  “That’s why I said you shouldn’t listen to Saga,” she said. “If you’d picked an instrument, you wouldn’t have had to suffer like this.”

  Saga snorted. “Yeah, and she’d be deaf before the year was out,” she argued back.

  “See how mean she is to you?” Jolie said, ignoring her friend completely. “And you want to spend part of your precious weekend with that?”

  “And a Tuesday too, if she’s serious about this.”

  “Depends on the time,” I interjected. “I’ve got therapy on Tuesdays.”

  “Ah, right,” Saga grumbled, same as every other time I brought up my therapy. Bad experience with her own prior, mandatory one, I believed. “Sambo’s in the evening, so you can still go.”

  “I still need permission-”

  I was cut off by a siren blaring out of nowhere. Jolie clutched her ears at the noise, while Saga and I turned to the speaker in the corner right above us.

  “TO ALL CITIZENS RESIDING IN -NORTHSIDE QUADRANT 3B- THERE IS AN ONGOING POWERED ENGAGEMENT IN YOUR AREA,” the all too artificial sounding voice said. “CURFEW IS NOW IN EFFECT. STAY INDOORS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. THOSE OUTSIDE, LOCATE THE CLOSEST POSSIBLE PUBLIC BUILDING, UNDERGROUND AREA, OR OTHER SHELTER NEAR YOU. I REPEAT-”

  The message would loop for four more times, but we didn’t bother waiting.

  “I’ve got to go message Mom,” I said to Jolie and Saga. I started walking towards the dressing room.

  “Good idea,” Jolie said and followed, Saga coming too.

  We weren’t the only ones moving to the locker room, however. A crowd had begun to form at the exit of the training hall. I saw a stream of other people from different parts of the sports complex walking through the corridors, everyone converging on the public changing rooms in droves.

  In short, it was rush hour.

  “Can you tell your mom not to message my handler?” Saga asked Jolie while we stood in line.

  Jolie sighed. “Why can’t you just send your house parent-” Jolie emphasized, refusing to give up on that long-lost battle, “-a message yourself? Do you want to get yelled at?”

  “I’m gonna get yelled at regardless,” Saga grumbled, “so why bother?”

  “If you don’t try it, how do you know?” Jolie accused.

  “Because I’m the one spending time with Faith every day,” Saga countered.

  “If you’re going to get yelled at regardless, why not send a text?” I interjected. “Maybe she’ll try and yell at you over the phone or through text. Might be easier to ignore that way.”

  In all honesty, I thought Saga exaggerated the amount of yelling she and her house parent got into. Not that I thought Saga was lying or anything, but I found that she tends to overexaggerate when it came to people she disliked.

  A bit like she does with Amber, in that regard. Or at least, I thought she did that considering my own experiences with my friend and mentor was nothing like the occasional snide comment Saga made about her – comments that she thankfully toned down after it became clear Amber was really my friend.

  We stepped through the hall’s exit and into the claustrophobic hallway. It was densely packed with people, their talk echoing across the stone walls all along the narrow path.

  “It’s just not worth the effort,” Saga groused, but the argument sounded weak.

  “Saga,” Jolie said, a mix of recrimination and tired plea.

  “Fine! Fine,” Saga relented. “I’ll try it, okay. Jeeze, You act as if you’re the one raising me.”

  Jolie threw her arm over Saga’s shoulder – an awkward feat, considering the height difference. “That’s because we are,” she said, and squished Saga’s body against herself.

  Only to push herself away just as quick. “God, Sam was right; you smell like- don’t you dare!” She stepped back, only for her to hit the wall of the narrow corridor.

  “C’mon, momma. Give your daughter a hug,” Saga threatened. “You’ll have to take a shower anyway.” Jolie slid along the stone wall, nearly bumping into the people lining up behind her.

  I grabbed Saga by the lapel and dragged her back. “You’re bothering other people,” I said to both Saga and Jolie. “Besides, we’re there.”

  Saga snapped her head down and up, pretend-flicking her non-existent long hair out of her face. “Ruin my fun, why don’t you.”

  We entered locker room six and I walked to my, well, locker. I entered the code, retrieved my clothes and my phone. Using the locker itself as cover, I immediately send my mother a text, then shot another one to Crowsong – not Amber, but to the Crowsong-phone, rerouting the message through my own Jester-phone. Mostly to tell her I was fine, and to inform her if she wanted to get involved.

  Once done, I stepped back and waited for the others to do the same.

  “Not gonna shower here?” Saga asked once she returned, Jolie in tow. Her and Jolie had likewise retrieved their clothes, but they’d apparently brought towels with them.

  On the other hand, I hadn’t. “Didn’t know we could,” I admitted. “Didn’t think to bring an extra towel. Or extra clothes.” And Mom hadn’t helped pack or check my bags for today’s as she usually did whenever I left to do something. She’d still been tired from yesterday’s late shift, so I let her be.

  “Ai, that sucks,” Jolie said, a shudder going through her. “Hate taking the bus while I’m all sweaty.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sweaty – nor was Jolie, for that matter, but I didn’t say that. “I’ll go change and wait in the cafeteria.”

  We split up shortly after and I did just that, browsing my phone to see what exactly was going on outside while I waited for my friends to finish.

  The ongoing-

  The alarm sounded again. “THE ENGAGEMENT HAS BEEN RESOLVED. PLEASE REMAIN INDOORS WHILE EXOTIC EFFECTS CLEANUP IS STILL IN EFFECT.”

  The previously ongoing encounter had – naturally, considering we were in Northside – been between the Jannacht and Motorgang. Auroran and Charmer of the Jannacht, along with some of their henchies, had been attacked by Chroming Hand – apparently recovered from his near drowning – and Black Lung, their crew of henchmen armed and armored with Motor Spirit’s creations.

  CAS had yet to release a casualty or damage report, but Chitterchat had various photos of bodies and blurry things that might be bodies. It was difficult to extract anything useful, what with most of the site being covered in black soot, dark smoke, chromed-over streets and rubble. Add to that the poor quality of, and it became hard to see whether the photos and videos showed the same scene from different angles or multiple different locations, let alone whether the henchies were wounded or outright killed in the fighting.

  Still, it seemed there had been a few casualties at least.

  Thankfully, Jauntiste had brought in Knight of Artemis – the twelfth wielder of the sword, I believe – Sandelabra and Looming Thread of the Guardians, Gaptime of the West Coast Wardens, and Deamonarm and LieSpy of the Prospectus in as a counterforce.

  Millie’s punishment had ended it seemed, if she was allowed on the frontline like that. That, or the situation was just that bad.

  Either way, it was an impressive showing, and an impressively quick response as well – something that hadn’t really been the case this past month. They’d resolved the situation minutes after their arrival, if the timestamps on Chitterchats and the speakers announcing the issue had been resolved was anything to go by.

  Perhaps they’d had some form of advanced warning? Although thinking about it, ever since the bombing on the 25th of last month and their – in my opinion – disproportionate response to it, their response time had improved drastically. Last Thursday on the 29th, a battle between Goldglow and Amberglow of the Dusk Bandits (plus henchies) and Glover, Hatter and Orsalking of the Jannacht (also plus henchies) had similarly been quickly resolved, with all five of them captured thanks to an overwhelming force of four Guardians and five Wardens.

  The day before that something had happened too, supposedly, but it never became clear to me what exactly that something was. Just that the heroes – Neverender, Fisher and Levy in particular – had been seen out and about preventing things from getting worse. Or maybe preventing something from starting in the first place?

  Mid-rumination, a bag was thrown down next to me, followed by Saga sliding out a chair from under the table and letting herself fall on it. Jolie did the same, except more normally, sitting down rather than throwing herself onto the seat.

  “You been reading up on what’s going on?” Jolie said.

  I nodded and explained it to them. They tensed once I mentioned LieSpy’s involvement, so, after a brief moment of hesitation on whether I should go for it, I said, “LieSpy’s fine – the situation has already ended and I doubt they would’ve send her out on the frontline in the first place.”

  They stiffened further at my words, looking at me with shock in their eyes. I hadn’t told them that I knew. I’d – or rather, we’d tried to find a suitable moment, Millie and I, but an opportunity never arose.

  Seeing as everyone in the cafeteria was busy talking about masked anyhow, and that the noise was loud enough to drown out anyone not eavesdropping within one foot of our table, I decided now was as good a time as any.

  “Millie told me,” I said bluntly.

  Jolie quickly shushed me while Saga immediately looked around. Again, there was practically no chance of anyone hearing it in the noise of the cafeteria, but even if they did, “They’re not going to figure it out from just that sentence,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Doesn’t mean you can just say it out loud,” Saga said, scowling. “Didn’t she explain it to you?”

  Saga’s words were more indicative of what we were talking about, but I let it slide.

  Instead, I focused on the next part: telling my friends my own alter ego. I was nervous, even though intellectually I knew I had no reason to be. They’d accepted Millie without trouble, so why wouldn’t they accept me?

  On the other hand, I was a vigilante. An unsanctioned, more controversial version of a hero – and for good reason, considering what some vigilantes got up to. Darkstar was a prime example of that. Him being a vigilante in the early days of his masked career had inadvertently helped tank the reputation of vigilantism in the city. Which already wasn’t that great before he ruined it further.

  But the time for hesitation had passed. I opened my phone and quickly sent the two of them a message. Even if I was sure that we couldn’t be overheard, stating my identity outright was a step too far.

  They both looked in surprise at my motion, then startled as their phones buzz. They read the message I sent: “Didn’t have to, I’m one too. Jester”.

  “No way,” Jolie said, mouth open in shock.

  “That’s awesome!” Saga proclaimed, smiling widely. “Two my friends are…” she trailed off, not saying the quiet part out loud.

  I nodded.

  “Since when?” Saga asked, only to receive a slap on the head from Jolie. “Ow! What the hell Jolie?!”

  “When do you think, moron,” Jolie hissed.

  Saga blinked. “Oh. Right.”

  I snorted, then outright laughed in relief, to the surprise of my friends – I didn’t laugh out loud often. Jolie and Saga laughed in response, which only furthered my own laughter. Before long, we were getting some weird looks from our surroundings as we continued to laugh, but whatever.

  Until the alarm sounded once more. “CLEANUP HAS BEEN COMPLETED. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. AND REMEMBER: SAFETY BEFORE CURIOSITY!”

  People started moving immediately, picking up their stuff and leaving the moment they’d been given the all-clear. The three of us followed suit, picking up our bags as we headed for the exit and to the bus stop, slight giggles still passing our lips uncontrollably.

  Then Saga stopped and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Wait, is that why you’re good at Sambo?” She narrowed her eyes. “Were you cheating?”

  I avoided her eyes and whistled innocently, upping my pace towards the bus stop, eventually running as Saga started her chase.