The Combat Test

Daniel clung to the rock face. Below him, the sound of beating waves echoed up from the pit. Obviously, looking down was a terrible idea.

He looked down anyway.

What he saw was a crack in the earth, a gorge that plummeted hundreds of feet into unfathomable darkness. There was water down there somewhere. He couldn’t be sure, but it was probably a sea cave, with another opening far below. Up top, where he was clinging, was the Academy’s training room. On his right and left there were guard rails, preventing students from falling into the pit. But he was on the wrong side of them. The other students leaned over the guard rails, watching his progress intently. He could swear they were snickering.

“Don’t look down,” said Major Piner from the sidelines. “Keep moving.”

Daniel’s palms were slick with sweat, and he struggled to keep his grip. Maybe I  should go back, he thought. I’m not brave enough for this. How had it even come to this? Only an hour ago, he’d been safe in his bed, in the Academy’s dormitory, trying to hack into a bank account.

****                           

           Daniel’s dorm room was a bit of a mess. He didn’t share it with anyone, thank Inaden, and so there was no one to complain about the piles of dirty laundry strewn about the floor. It was also consequently quiet, and dim, which was perfect for concentrating.

           He had tapped the window twice to shade the glass to an opaque white, hiding the sunlight that glared down on the Academy’s green, reflective exterior. The place looked like a tin can on a hill, sometimes, or like the shell of a green bug, burrowed into the edge of a cliff over the sea.

The second level of the academy was ringed by a circular row of dorms, each one with two beds nestled into the wall space and some inset shelves, which Daniel had used for books like Science and Magic: The Connection by Stelmer, and Understanding Psychology, because one had to make up for one’s weak points somehow. The others were books on coding. He’d brought the ones he knew were most likely to be assigned as class reading when he got into Science Division.

He already knew practically everything about Science Division. He hadn’t had many other goals since secondary school. The Science Division at the Dralinian National Aeronautics Academy was the place you went if you wanted to go to space. He had expectations to live up to after all, being one of those bright and exceptional children that had turned into a somewhat fraught adolescent.

What was there in space to excite him? Well, it wasn’t space itself, but the idea of other planets. Landing on other planets, exploring other planets, seeing things nobody had ever seen before. That was it, really, and they had the tech to do it now, although humanity (and elves, though they were sort of an afterthought) had only been to a couple of uninhabited worlds so far. The habited worlds hadn’t quite been reached, although they’d been contacted, long-distance, so to speak, and they had mostly left Valerian alone. Except the Shades, but that was another story.

Daniel’s tablet was propped up on his pillow, projecting blue light into his faintly aching eyes. His cursor blinked in the command line.

Hacking is a risky business, he thought. And though it was perhaps a little self-congratulatory, he couldn’t help feeling that he was quite daring. If he was caught doing what he was about to do, he’d probably be thrown out of the Academy.

At the moment, he was breaching a bank’s firewalls. A bank was no easy target—hacking into a bank account was like breaking into a fortress. There were guards everywhere.

That’s why he wasn’t doing it for real. At least, not yet. Instead he was testing his code on a pirated copy of their system. This was a fake version of the bank’s account system that they used internally to train new employees. Perfect testing grounds to find out how everything worked.

And the danger wasn’t really that heart-stopping. He’d been here for hours, shifting words and letters around and pressing the same buttons over and over again. Still, he was feeling a little prick of excitement now that it seemed like everything was working properly. Maybe it was time to do the deed for real. He switched tabs.

Mr. and Mrs. Grace’s account balance lay bare before him.

At any moment, he could enter the commands that would transfer the money from their account to his own—a sum of 3,000 quills, enough to pay for the first quarter of his tuition.

If he did, he would cross the line. Only one more move would put him afoul of the law. Yes, he’d gone undetected so far, but he knew that once the transfer was completed, it wouldn’t take the bank too long to find the discrepancy. And from there, there was nothing to stop them from tracing the source of the hack. While he was tempted to actually pull the stunt, he had no real desire to be arrested. For the moment, it would have to be enough to know that he could do it if he wanted to. Which he did. But also didn’t.

Daniel backed out of his parents’ account.

 He returned to the main page with a sigh, closed the program, and clicked a large yellow-orange button to accept the 3,000 – quill money transfer which they were going to give him anyway.

He totally could have done it.

Daniel put aside the tiny, detachable keyboard and threw his sock across the room to the growing laundry pile on the empty bed. He was lucky not to share. People were a hassle to live with; machines made less troublesome company.

           The lamp on his table glowed softly. Now here was a machine that definitely made better company than a human. His father had given it to him for his last birthday, (an expensive birthday present, given the current magic shortage) and it was undeniably cool. It had the shape of a miniature sun, hovering over a flat base.  Tiny solar flares and spurts arced from its surface, swirling in shimmering patterns. He knew it worked on both science and magic. Any apparatus which utilized both disciplines at once intrigued him – though it was frowned upon in certain circles. However, if he had to pick one of the two, it would definitely be science.

           Daniel’s eye strayed to the clock. He leaped up, slamming the tablet down on the bed covers. He’d completely forgotten. His appointment for the Combat test started in just fifteen minutes.

           He rammed a comb through his coffee-colored hair, checking his pale face in the tiny round mirror over the bathroom counter.

           There were three entrance exams at the DNAA. Regardless of their academic intent, all students were required to take all three. The first was the Flight test, which he had taken yesterday. The other two tests were today: the Combat test, and the Science exam. He’d been prepping for the Science exam for months. Now he was almost there, a few hours away from achieving his goal. Only one obstacle remained: he had to get through the Combat test.

His mind stole back to a lunch in the dining hall last week. He had already made a habit of sitting by himself, not unlike in secondary school. This time, however, an unusually talkative group had parked itself next to him. As he contemplated moving to another seat, a student who looked about sixteen had asked him what division he was going into. Soon he was trapped into a conversation.

           “Even if you’re in Science.” The kid leaned over. He had round glasses and an enormous backpack. “You’ll want to train for the Combat test.”

           “Really?” Daniel had asked, although he was busy wondering how a sixteen-year-old had gotten into the DNAA. It was hard enough for him at twenty. “They told us that almost all initiates pass it and end up eligible for the division.”

           “Even so, it’s wild. You should probably be training for it. I’m not allowed to tell you what’s in it. I’m just saying.”

           Daniel dropped the comb, burst out into the hall, and slammed the door of his dorm. Relax, he told himself. Remember your strategies for test anxiety? They’ve always worked before. This is no different. You breathe, you keep your head, you’ll be fine. Emotions never helped anyone think. Besides, anything that “most” initiates can do, you can do. One of the perks of being above average.

           The speech was intentionally overconfident; it made him feel better.

           Halfway down the stairs, he remembered that he had no idea where he was going. He checked his tablet again. The map of the building showed a circle, divided into wedge-shaped rooms like the spokes of a wheel. His destination was a corner of the training room, which was a large slice taking up about a third of the bottom floor.

           He followed the flow of students down the stairs and into the entrance hall. This was a high-ceilinged room, wedge-shaped like the others. The stairs came down the interior wall, and on the exterior wall stood the great doors of the Academy, tall and iron-studded. Along both opposing sides were murals depicting dramatized scenes from the history of Dralina. The colors were bold and the figures larger than life—one almost expected the heroes and kings of ancient times to step down from the wall, brandishing their swords or banners.

On the right-hand wall he found the door to the training area. It was set in the center of one of the murals. This mural had a more modern theme than some of the others, for it was a scene from the Shade Wars, which had ended only about forty years ago. It depicted a shade emerging from a portal. The shade was a smoky, irregular creature, all shadow and red eyes. Its mouth stretched in a scream of agony as it was vanquished by the blade of a Dralinian soldier. The door itself was situated directly in the center of the portal from which the unlucky shade had manifested.

Clever, he thought, raising an eyebrow, but in dubious taste. The painting seemed to insinuate that the unsuspecting initiate was about to walk directly into the pits of hell.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the training room, a wide and open space. Padded mats covered the floor, and steel beams spanned the distant ceiling. Along the outer wall were smaller enclosed rooms contained within the larger one. Far and away at the other end a group of initiates marched to the commands of an officer.

“Ah, there you are… David?” said a deep voice.

He turned around. Behind him stood a tall, muscular man with spiked blonde hair, a tank top, and cargo shorts.

“It’s Daniel, sir. Reporting as ordered.”

“Right. Daniel. I’m Major Piner,” said the man. “The other initiates you’ll be testing with—oh, here they are.”

           A tall, pretty elf-girl had approached them. She had olive-colored skin and a chestnut ponytail behind her pointed ears. Behind her several other male and female students wandered in cautiously.

           The elf-girl rubbed her arms and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet as though warming up. Maybe he should stretch. Raising his arms over his head only elicited a yawn. If only the Science exam had been first. He felt sharp, and not getting any sharper.

“Let’s run a lap!” said Piner in an obnoxiously cheerful voice. “All the way around this room. Stay close to the wall, touch every corner. You have six minutes. Go!” He clapped his hands. “Go, go, go!”

           Daniel was taken by surprise at the command. Before he had started, the group was already off ahead of him, with the elf-girl in the lead. He touched the near corner, then set off along the inner wall. Such a simple test, and he was probably already going to fail. His lungs were burning by the time he reached the second corner. Most of the group had already rounded the third. He slapped the wall, and nearly stopped to rest. But the clock was still ticking, and he felt Piner’s eyes on him.

By the time he reached the third corner, a stitch had developed in his side. He hit the fourth corner and staggered back to the start over a minute behind the rest of the group, panting heavily.

Piner raised an eyebrow at him as he came in and glanced at the clock skeptically, but said nothing. Daniel wondered if he’d made the cut or not.

While they were gone, the Major had roped off a square area in the starting corner of the training room. Inside of it he had dragged a foam mat. There was also a bar with a punching bag hanging from it.

           “Come on over here,” said Piner, and beckoned to them. They crowded up against the rope.

“All right,” said Piner. “Listen up to the instructions. I’m going to test your fighting form. You’re going to take turns striking the bag. I will expect you to conform to the standard of Zithada. Then we will move to the final phase, in Area B.”          

           Though he was no expert on Zithada, it sounded fairly straightforward, he thought, but his mind was still running over the formulas for the Science test.

           “Who wants to go first?”

           The elf-girl stepped forward.

           “And your name is?”

           “Kate Riley, sir.”

“All right, then, Kate, give it a go. Show me a straight punch, a hook, and an uppercut from each side.”

           She stepped into the ring and took her place, steady before the bag. He watched, trying to derive any pointers he could. The bag swung under her punches.

           “Now, I want to see a forward kick, a back kick, a hook kick, and a roundhouse kick each side. You got that?”

           Kate nodded.

What happened next he could barely follow. With an easy grace she delivered a high kick with her heel. She pivoted and struck it from behind, and from both sides, with the poise of a dancer.

           “Excellent!” said Piner, and he sounded legitimately impressed. “Very well done. For an initiate.”

           Daniel hadn’t wanted to go first, but he definitely didn’t want to wait until last. He stretched again.

           “You there!” said Piner. “Dale, was it?”

           “Daniel,” he answered reflexively.

           “Daniel. I saw you raising your hand.”

           “I—wait—”

           “Now come up here and do what she just did.”      

           A tough act to follow, he thought with a bit of irrational spite. He ducked under the rope and into the ring.

           “Remember what I said. Straight punch, hook, and an uppercut from the right and left.”

           He balled his fists and pummeled the bag with all his might. He honestly had no idea how well he was doing, but he switched to the right and threw several more flailing punches. It rattled faintly.

Relax, he told himself. So you don’t get into this division. It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to pass this test, just complete it.

“The kicks.” Piner repeated the instructions he’d given to Kate.

           Daniel didn’t know what half the moves even were. He kicked the bag with his shoe. It barely yielded, and he bounced back awkwardly, almost falling over.

           Kate hid her laughter behind a hand, but none of the other initiates watching were rendering the same courtesy.

           But he couldn’t stop now. He kicked it from behind, nearly missing it entirely, then from both sides, more cautiously this time to keep his balance. His ears burned as he stepped out of the ring.

           This is the worst. But they had told him the tests would be bad. At least it was over now, he thought— and then he remembered what Piner had said about Area B. Maybe that would be less embarrassing than this.

           He hung back until the other students had finished their testing. None were quite as good as Kate, but all found at least some way to do better than him. He looked the other way.

           “All right,” called Piner, “Follow me. We’re going to Area B.”

           They traipsed in a scattered group after Piner across the practice floor until they reached one of the enclosed rooms on the other side. Piner unlocked it and let them in.

           The first thing Daniel noticed upon entering was the wide chasm in the center of the room. Guard rails surrounded it on three sides; the fourth side was flush against the wall. He stepped up to the guard rail out of curiosity and looked over the edge. The sides were rough, stony, and near-vertical. He could not see the bottom, only an impenetrable gloom from which came, softly, the sound of breaking waves.

           The other students had begun to fan out around the pit.

           “Back here, please,” said Piner. He was standing near the edge where the pit joined the wall.

           As the group drifted back together, a terrible realization clicked in Daniel’s mind. The patch of rough stone on the far side over the pit was in fact a climbing wall. The other students seemed to recognize this at the same time.

“For the final part of the Combat test, you will climb the rock wall across to the other side,” Piner declared.

They glanced amongst each other, and there were a few scattered laughs.

           “Well? What are you waiting for? Form a line!”

           A line conspicuously failed to form.

           “Am I going to have to start calling names?”

Kate Riley raised her hand. “I’ll go first.”

           “Good girl. Come up here. You’ll want to take off your shoes, and put on these gloves.” Piner held out a pair of gloves padded with bright green grips on the fingers and palms. “There are plenty of handholds, but the rocks are rough.”

           He looked back into the pit. It was still dark down there. Everyone was quiet, listening intently to Piner, but a queue had not materialized.

           Kate snapped on the gloves. She slipped off her shoes and stepped up onto the wall, finding holds easily. They all watched her.

           She was like a spider. Never looking down, she crossed the space in quick, horizontal movements. She did not stop until she reached the end of the rock wall on the other side. She dropped to the floor lithely and raised her fists over her head.

           “Excellent!” said Piner proudly. “Now where is the line I asked for? You kids are even more difficult than usual this year.”

           The group shuffled and there was some hushed bickering.

           “Who went after Kate last time?” asked the Major.

           He’d been afraid of that.

Daniel was grateful that no one ever remembered his name or noticed that he was there. He was used to blending in in order to deflect attention and keep people’s expectations down to a comfortable level. Perhaps they’d skip him over—but no, apparently the sight of him getting beaned in the face was too memorable. Some snitch was pointing at him.

           “Aha! It’s Darren, right?”

           “Daniel,” he muttered.

           The group cleared aside, leaving him in the front.

Relax. It’s just another exam. Either you pass or you don’t, in the meantime, stress will not… Somehow his typical strategies for defeating test anxiety weren’t working.

           He cleared his throat. “Um, I have a question.”

           “Yes?”

           “What if we fall?”

           “If you fall,” said the Major, and he gave a short, unpleasant, laugh, “you do not pass.”

Daniel took the gloves from Piner’s hand and hesitantly pulled them on. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Kate made it look easy—Kate made everything look easy. But supposedly, almost all initiates passed—

What the hell is ALMOST supposed to mean?

He bent down and pulled off his shoes and socks. He wasn’t sure if it was just the gloves, but his fingers felt stiff. He tried to push down the quavering feeling in his stomach. What else could he do? Refuse? No, the rule was that every initiate tested for every division. After that he could pick from the ones he’d made the cut for. If he stopped now, he’d be refusing admittance to the top school in Dralina. No chance to even take the Science test. He’d have to go back to his family and tell them that he didn’t succeed at his one talent, all because he wouldn’t climb over a stupid pit. No.

This was what they did regularly. Every year. Hundreds of students from every division must have done this to get in, even Science initiates. Everyone was watching him now, to see what he would do. Was he different from them? No, of course not. Then he had to do this.

Daniel stepped up to the wall with a last glance at Piner. He grabbed the stones and pulled himself up. True, it seemed easy enough to hold on to. He felt a slight increase in confidence, and tested out a sideways move.

“Wrong direction,” called out Kate in amusement.

Daniel felt himself flush. Responding, however, would have distracted him, so he moved instead to the left.

Once he had edged out far enough that he knew he was over empty space, he paused. The view was dizzying. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, then realizing he couldn’t navigate that way, opened them again.  There were more easy hand and foot holds to the left. Perhaps, if it was like this for the whole distance…

“Don’t look down,” said Major Piner. “Keep moving.”

It’s not too late to go back, said a small voice. He pressed it down.

When he next risked a glance back the way he had come, Piner stood a shocking distance away.

Could it be? But his arms were already getting tired. Still, he reasoned, it was quicker now to go forward than to go back. He groped for another handhold. Ah there it was—and a foothold… no! Not that one. His toes slipped and his leg dangled over the air. He tried to catch it again, but his knee hit the rock and he felt his center of balance shifting away from the wall. Daniel strained with his arms to pull himself closer. He was glad for the gloves; even through them he felt the rough rock biting his fingers.

 “You’re over halfway there,” said the Major. “Stay calm.”

But it was too late. Daniel’s foot slipped again and he gave a sharp cry of alarm. The next thing he knew, he was dangling by his arms over the pit. He scrabbled with his feet but he was now too low on the wall for any of the footholds. The climbing wall had been cut with them and the natural stone below was far too smooth to hold onto.

           This had, perhaps, been the most ill-conceived plan of his short life. “Help!” he shouted.

“Hang on,” said Piner. “I’ll get you.”

His current holds were precarious, and he couldn’t see how Piner would be able to help him. Sweat dripped off his body. How would he die? Would he fall all the way to the bottom, to the water and the jagged rocks? Or be dashed against the sides on the way down?

He didn’t have long to think about it. At that moment his remaining holds slipped, one after the other, his weight wrenching him loose. Daniel screamed.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two