Star runners, p.12
Star Runners, page 12
Austin gasped.
Rather than utilizing a keyboard to activate the functions of the Trident fighter, this simulation had buttons and switches for each function. Laser guns, missiles, shields – all functions had a button in the cockpit or a switch on either side. A throttle was on his right. Rather than hit a function key to look left or right, he would simply look in the direction he wanted to see. It was like being in a real Trident.
“Unbelievable,” he breathed.
It amazed Austin to think that the school would go to such lengths to ensure they had their recreational time. After twelve weeks of no-nonsense education, they add a rec room like this?
The three screens wavered and revealed the inside of a starport. Other parked Trident fighters lined up on either side of him. Straight ahead, a brilliant star field called to him. These screens had a higher resolution than his computer back home and Stetson’s laptop.
“Welcome, Star Runner,” a female voice announced. “Please put on your headset.”
Grinning, Austin looked at the black headset on the front console. He slipped it on, pulling the mouthpiece closer to his lips.
“Prepare for your simulation,” the voice continued in his earpiece. “For today’s exercise, we will be taking on a pair of Tyral Pirates attempting to attack Legion freighters leaving Tarton’s Junction, an important spaceport within Legion space. Throttle forward when ready.”
Austin adjusted the headset and rested his hand on the throttle. He had flown a Trident on the computer, but this felt real.
“Rock? This is Nubern. We are all waiting for you out here.”
“Yes, sir. Just getting my bearings.”
He eased forward on the throttle. His seat rumbled as his fighter moved past the other craft and out into space. The star field surrounded his view. The space wavered as his curvature drive opened the bend in the void. A circular screen above the stick showed his current sensor readout rather than it being on the HUD. That would take some getting used to, but all other systems seemed to be in place. He squinted as he searched for weapons select. Two red buttons glowed at his fingertips just beyond the throttle control. He selected his missiles with his right hand. Rather than searching for buttons on a keyboard, he could work more with his hands which would allow for quicker reactions.
After he had passed through the curve, three red dots emerged on his radar. Austin turned the Trident to bear down on the pirates, still amazed at how the star field adjusted to his movement. He glanced left and right, watching as space debris shot past the window. They should post these simulations in malls across the country.
“Enemy fighters in bound,” the female voice cooed in his headset.
“Got it,” Austin said.
The crosshairs blinked yellow as the fighters came into range. When they changed to a searing red, he squeezed the trigger. The seat rumbled as the missile left his fighter and shot at its target. A moment later, a bright explosion flickered in the distance.
One less pirate.
The other two split off in different directions. Austin veered right, attempting to stay near the closest fighter. In an effort to keep the enemy in front of him, he rolled and accelerated. The pirate fighter filled his crosshairs and Austin fired again, not waiting for a lock.
Miss.
He looked down and found the button for laser guns. When he looked back to the screen, the enemy had vanished.
The pod’s seat rumbled, and the lights on the dashboard flickered as he took fire from the rear. Both pirate fighters had worked their way behind him. Austin yanked left, then right, then pulled back into a loop. Warning bells sounded, and the lights in his cockpit glowed a blood red. His fighter wouldn’t take much more of this.
He killed the engines and powered his reverse thrusters at full. His Trident slowed. The two pirates shot into his forward view.
Austin pulled the trigger. His stick vibrated as the laser guns fired red bolts into the closest pirate fighter. Sparks flew from the enemy craft before it disintegrated into a fiery wreck. It didn’t take long before the other enemy fighter met the same fate.
“This introductory exercise has been completed,” the female voice announced. “Well done, Star Runner.”
“Nice job, Rock,” Nubern said into Austin’s headset. “Nice job.”
The pod door opened, and Austin took off his headset. Nubern stood with his arms crossed. The students all pressed forward for a better look at the cockpit.
“How was it?” Skylar asked.
“Amazing,” Austin said, his eyes back on the cockpit. “Absolutely amazing.”
* * *
During his afternoon classes, Austin could not shake the simulation pod from his mind. It had been so real. His reactions were slower as he had to find the correct buttons in the cockpit, but he wanted to get better. He felt drawn to the rec room in a way he had not felt since he and Josh first started playing Star Runners.
And then there was the reaction of the other students.
All twenty-two remaining students had reacted in surprise at his online ID as if they had all heard it before. Skylar’s shocked face was etched in his mind; her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She had gazed at him with such respect and awe, as if she had never seen him before. Was it possible they were all gamers? No, that couldn’t be it. The recreation room smelled of mold as if it had been there a long time. Perhaps the simulation pods were new?
He had other things to worry about at the moment.
His final class of the day ended, and the students filed out of the Terminus Building to the Grand Lawn. Chief Sharkey stood in front of five guards, hands clasped behind his back. A wooden barstool sat in front of each guard.
“Nubern advised all of you that new hair regulations would be enforced starting tomorrow.” He turned and gestured toward the five guards. “I want all you men to form five lines. The women will report immediately to the chow hall.”
The male students grumbled into line while the women walked toward the mess hall. The haircuts didn’t take long. The guards buzzed the student’s’ hair with battery-powered clippers. The five clippers buzzing reminded Austin of a bee hive. Huge clumps of hair fell off into the grass, the wind taking it away.
When it was Austin’s turn, he sat and allowed the guard to do his work. It didn’t bother him as his hair was already short. However, some of the guys complained and walked away feeling their newly exposed scalps. Austin slid his right hand over his head, feeling the remaining prickly hairs. The guard motioned for him to leave, and the next guy sat down.
Following the haircuts, Sharkey took the students to the PT field.
“Now it’s time for your first class in survival training,” he announced, placing his hands behind his back. “This will be a mandatory additional class at the end of each day for the next three weeks. Now pay attention! Don’t screw around with this class. Some of what you learn might save your life.”
Sharkey reached into the front pocket of his black pants and pulled out a silver whistle which glistened in the sunlight.
“But before we have our first class,” he said, placing the whistle to his lips, “we run.”
The students looked at each other.
Sharkey blew the whistle. “I said run, you worthless sacks! RUN!”
He leaned forward as if to hit someone. Austin flinched, dropped his books and started running. He didn’t turn to see if the others followed. He didn’t care. He increased his pace as he reached the PT track and left behind the sound of Sharkey’s whistle. He missed Skylar.
The other male students fell in behind Austin. They jogged three laps before Sharkey started his whistle blowing once again. Austin glanced over his shoulder. Several students lagged behind the pack. Four laps equaled a mile, but many students struggled to pass even that milestone.
Skylar’s standard afternoon workout was eight laps, but sometimes went for twelve. Austin had struggled at the beginning of the semester but had grown used to the workout. He would have to thank her later.
As the group reached their sixth lap, some students slowed. Connor bent over at the side of the track and vomited. The acidic smell drifted over to Austin as he ran past. The humid breeze coming from the swamp blew the stench away.
Connor wasn’t alone. When the eighth lap commenced, half the students barely ran. Most had their hands on their hips and stared into the sky.
Sharkey screamed, “Get up! What do you think this is? Get up, now! Run, you worthless sacks of lyker dung! Run!”
Austin frowned as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He wasn’t sure what a “lyker” was or how that was even an insult, but he kept moving forward.
His lungs burned, and his thighs ached as he finished lap number twelve.
The whistle sounded once more.
“That’s it for today! It is the first day, after all,” Sharkey said. “Everyone take a knee over here.”
Austin and the other students who had finished the twelve laps moved to where they had left their books. He did a quick count: eight students made the three miles. Austin used his uniform sleeve to dab the sweat from his face. The other six limped and walked along different portions of the track, trying to hurry toward Sharkey’s location.
“Nice of you ladies to finally join us,” he said once all fourteen male students knelt around him like he was a football coach at the end of practice. “There’s no sugar-coating this today, gentlemen. This was a disgrace. Half of you failed to make it twelve laps. Starting tomorrow, we do sixteen. The next day twenty. Then, I want the standard workout to be six miles before we even start the survival class. Understood?”
The group nodded.
“Some of you have kept up with your fitness this semester and are now being rewarded for your persistence. The rest of you will have to step it up if you want to stay on this campus.” He glanced at his watch. “That’s it for today. Be ready to run tomorrow. Dismissed.”
* * *
Warmth touched his face. Austin curled his toes and raised his arms over his head, burying them deep into the pillow. As he forced his eyes open, rays of sunlight burst into the room and blinded him. He glanced at the clock: 7 a.m. on a Saturday. He smiled, remembering when being awake at such an hour on the first day of the weekend felt like a crime.
Ignoring the pain in his thighs, Austin shifted his legs out from under the covers and touched his feet to the cool tile floor. His muscles ached. He sat forward and the book he had been reading, Survival in the Woods, fell from his chest to his lap. He tossed the book to the side and sat at the end of the bed. He stared at the floor.
Every muscle in his body burned after this first week of PT with Sharkey. He tried to study last night but fell asleep. He didn’t even remember to shut off his reading light. Sharkey had not lightened up at all. Instead, he’d intensified the work out regime. At first, Austin had been able to hold his own with the program. Now, as his feet throbbed when they touched the floor, he wondered if he would make it the final four weeks of class.
And the physical aspect wasn’t the only thing on his mind.
With the new change in routine at Tizona, more classes were added to the mix. As if the primary classes weren’t hard enough, now Sharkey and Nubern taught basic survival skills in the event students were ever stranded or lost in the woods. Teachers taught the afternoon classes in spurts. Some days they ran. Other days they powered through obstacles on the ropes course. While he didn’t know if he would ever need it, Austin was interested in learning about what plant life and bugs he could eat if he did find himself lost in the woods. Creating a natural compass out of a needle and a pool of water was cool stuff. David and Austin spent hours after the classes talking about going on a cross-country road trip when this was all over. These survival classes would make camping in the wilderness a breeze. It was nice to feel like he was making a close friend again.
But not all of the students shared their enthusiasm. Connor was vocal about his displeasure in having the new classes tacked on to his workload.
“God, this is so stupid!” he said more than once after class or while they ran. “When will I ever use this crap?”
Austin ignored him. He didn’t know when he would use this information either, but he would do whatever it took for him to stay in school and keep the scholarship. He would not return home to tell Mom he quit. And what would Dad have said if that happened?
After the first two days of the new class format, Connor disappeared. Rumor had it the guy was taken from his dorm room in the middle of the night, the same as Stetson. Austin shuddered when he thought of Stetson. He figured the rest of the male students knew to keep their mouths shut. Among the remaining thirteen, Austin knew none of them except for David. The others looked familiar, of course, but they had been quiet during their time at Tizona. All of them, though, had an icy stare either from determination or fear, possibly a little of both.
The stack of books loomed on Austin’s desk. He had a calculus test next week he needed to study for and plenty of homework to do, including assigned reading from the survival book Sharkey had given them at the end of their PT yesterday.
He put on his dark blue Tizona jumpsuit and running shoes. The homework could wait until after his morning run.
Wiping the sleep out of his eyes and sliding his hand over his short hair, Austin left his dorm room and hustled down the stairs. He never thought he would enjoy it, but somehow Skylar’s love of running had grown on him. Now, he wondered how he ever did without it.
He stretched in front of the dormitory. A morning fog lingered over the wet grass in the PT field. The November air carried with it a chill he hadn’t noticed earlier in the week. Winter would soon be here and, with it, a break from school. He would be able to return home and tell Mom about his new life and, hopefully, what classes he would be taking next semester. He grinned as he leaned on his leg in one final stretch and felt the muscle pull.
“Mind if I join you?”
Austin turned around. Skylar, dressed in her Tizona blue leggings and a sweatshirt, stood on the gravel path.
“Man, it’s good to see you.” He rushed over and hugged her. “Happy Saturday to you.”
“What a greeting,” she said with a smile. “I should get up early on Saturday’s more often.”
The blood rushed to his face. “Yeah, I thought I’d go for a run to start the day. I’m buried in homework I don’t feel like doing. Luckily, PT is homework now.”
“Let’s go.”
Three miles went by much faster than they did back when Austin first arrived at Tizona. Skylar motioned toward the bench along the edge of the campus. She stretched in silence and faced the dense woods leading to the swamp beyond.
“I wrote my mom today,” she said, pulling her left leg toward her. “I didn’t know what to say. Miami’s a long ways from here.”
“What do you mean?”
Skylar rubbed her nose. “They’re always asking about the classes and what we’re doing. It’s hard to explain this is like a military school without the military.”
Austin paced in front of the bench. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
She pointed to his shaved head. “No?”
He laughed and slid his hand over the top of his head. “I guess you’re right. How are things with the girls?”
“We’ve been running like crazy. A female security guard, Jenalee Donadio, has been taking over our PT in the afternoon. She’s a hard ass. Really likes yelling at all of us.”
“That seems to be going around. Did you write your father, too?”
She shook her head. “What’s the point?”
Austin knelt to tie his shoe and avoided eye contact. Skylar had only mentioned her dad once at lunch a few weeks ago. He was fired from his job for stealing when she was in high school. After serving time in prison and getting a divorce, her father had been out of the picture. Skylar held an empty stare when she spoke of him. Austin had tried bringing it up again, but never pushed the issue. If Skylar wanted to talk about it, she would.
Skylar rolled her shoulders to loosen up. “Then we’ve been discussing survival techniques,” she continued as if Austin hadn’t asked about her dad. “How to eat bugs if we’re starving, really fun stuff that just makes you want to go camping, you know what I mean?”
She took in a deep breath and turned back toward the Terminus Building. Rolling plumes of fog lifted from the wet grasses as the sunlight illuminated the campus. “So why didn’t you ever tell me?”
He frowned. “Tell you about what?”
“About being the legendary Rock; the guy who took down the Scorpion.”
His eyebrows raised. Ever since Nubern called him by his online alter ego earlier that week, none of the other guys had said anything. “I thought you had forgotten about that.”
“No way.” She turned to face him. “You’re not the only one who plays Star Runners. It’s not just for guys, you know. Some of the girls in PT were talking about it after one of our runs.”
“I know,” he said with a smile. “I guess I didn’t want to come off as a nerd. It’s not something you spout off to people when you first meet them. At least, I don’t.”
Skylar made a clicking sound with her tongue against her teeth. “You should know by now you can talk to me about anything. I’ve been wanting to ask the famous Rock this since I saw it on the leaderboards: How did you do it?”
Austin sighed and gestured to start walking down the path before they continued their run. “It happened before I really knew what I had done. Between you and me, I think it must have been dumb luck.”
