Jon Messenger - Burden of Sisyphus

Keryn and the others were awakened early that morning by a siren that blasted down the dormitory hall. The sun hadn’t even lit the horizon by the time she dressed in her uniform and hurried outside to join the other bleary-eyed cadets. With little instruction, they were ushered into buses and driven away from town. The shocks on the buses seemed nonexistent, and the constant jostling stole any chance to catch a nap, as they drove down ill-paved roads leading to the lake.

Her black rubber suit was issued once she left the bus. One size fits most , she realized, squeezing into her suit and trying to pull the zipper past the swell of her breasts. It clung uncomfortably tight in the groin and around the chest and seemed an impractical way to fight, especially for someone accustomed to training and fighting in flowing shirts and loose pants. Her only pleasure came in seeing Sasha struggling, as her suit constricted tightly against her wings. Even short Iana picked crudely at the crotch of her own suit, trying to pull it away, as it crept uninvited into areas she preferred it not to visit.

Keryn checked the firearm strapped to her right leg and strange dagger strapped to her left. Pulling the blade from its sheath, she stared at the one-inch nub of blade protruding from the dark rubber hilt. When she pressed a button near the thumb grip, the air around the short blade crackled, as blue light sprang from the hand guard. Nearly one-foot long, the blue blade wavered unsteadily in the air, as if it lacked consistency.

“Is that thing really going to do any damage?” Iana asked, fidgeting with her suit.

“Only one way to find out.” Keryn agilely twisted the knife in her hand. Extending her left arm, she turned her palm upward. The suit reached all the way to her wrist and connected firmly to a pair of lightweight gloves. She lowered the knife until the blade hovered a few inches above her exposed arm.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Iana asked.

“One thing I learned from all my schooling is that you can’t be confident that your weapon will harm an opponent until you know what it’s capable of. Give me a stick, and I can defend myself, but the first time I see the damage it can cause against an unprotected enemy, I’ll finally appreciate it as a weapon.”

She pressed the knife down. The blue blade shimmered, as it passed unhindered through her sleeve. Instantly, the suit contracted, starting at the elbow and all the way down to her fingertips, until it pressed painfully against her skin and constricted blood flow. Her muscles pulled tightly, Keryn’s fingers curled back until her hand was nearly a fist. Groaning with pain and surprise, she was unable to move her arm from the elbow down.

“Congratulations to Cadet Riddell,” Victoria called from the front of the group, watching students experiment with the limits of their suits. “She was the first to learn exactly how your suits operate.”

She waited for conversations to die away and attention be focused on her. “For those of you who aren’t as eager as our young Wyndgaart, let me explain how the suits operate. Within every inch of fabric is sewn hundreds of feet of electrical wiring connected to a series of flexible rods. The rods only minimally limit your movement. Mostly, they just cause discomfort, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered.

“However, when an electrical current is introduced to a specific section of the suit, the rods stiffen and are pulled into alignment. They seize the part of the suit that’s been struck, leaving the individual immobile. You can ask Cadet Riddell just how painful that can be.

“Get struck in a leg, and that leg is useless. Get struck in an arm, and you lose the use of the arm. Get struck in the torso, chest, or neck, and your entire suit seizes up, leaving you immobile until an instructor releases the current coursing through the suit.”

She pressed a button on a remote, and Keryn’s arm relaxed. Pins and needles exploded along her forearm and hand, as blood flow was reestablished.

“Getting used to the suits takes time,” Victoria said.

Many watched Keryn recuperate.

“That’s why you’ll train on the ground for the time being until I feel confident about putting you in the air.”

Instructors on either side cast off their heavy coats, revealing identical black rubber suits. Kicking off from the ground, both launched into the air. Small backpacks fired, launching them higher, as they spun in choreographed maneuvers. The cadets watched in awe and envy.

“Split into groups of four.” Victoria’s voice broke through their enthrallment. “I want to see you sparring against each other until you’re comfortable in your suits and confident with your weapons.”

Slowly, the throng of cadets separated into groups of four. An unfamiliar Oterian and sly Lithid joined Iana and Keryn. The groups spread out from each other, allowing ample space for movement and combat. Keryn shrugged one shoulder after the other, as she walked, trying to loosen the constrictive suit. She would’ve preferred to strip it off and fight naked, since the thick rubber hindered her agile movements. Still, she drew her knife again and activated the blade. The other three copied her and loosened the catch on their holsters. Though pistols would be harder to use in a small space, a good fighter was prepared for any eventuality.

As Keryn stood at one corner of their squared fighting space, she heard grunts of pain and surprise, as other groups began combat. She looked at her three competitors, the frustration of the past day’s failure brewing just beneath the surface of her calm demeanor.

She returned to her element. Regardless of the constraints of the suit, her feet were firmly planted on solid ground, and weapons rested comfortably in her hands. That morning, she would wash away her failures and reestablish herself at the top of her class.

The Oterian was the first to move, rumbling forward with a cry. Rolling left, Keryn dodged his clumsy swing. Iana, dropping to one knee beside the off-balance Oterian, slashed his knee. The suit seized up, and he hobbled forward two steps more before Iana drove her knife into his back. A ripple went up his back, and the entire suit from neck to toes seized up until it was a solid-rubber sarcophagus. Unable to move, he pitched forward and fell painfully on the end of his snout.

Meanwhile, Keryn faced the lither Lithid female. They circled each other, swinging halfheartedly, testing each other’s defenses. Like a blur, the Lithid drove forward, slashing downward with her transparent knife, her blade glowing bright yellow. Keryn brought her knife up to block and shifted her weight, preparing for a counterstrike.

To her surprise, the Lithid’s knife passed unhindered through hers and struck Keryn painfully on the upper arm. The entire limb dropped stiffly to her side. Sliding backward, she cursed herself for her clumsiness. Having seen the blade pass through her arm, she shouldn’t have been so naive as to assume it would parry an attack.

Pressing her advantage, the Lithid female slid forward with a basic forward thrust. Though her arm was growing painful at her side, Keryn spun gracefully out of the way and moved toward her opponent. Her hip knocked the Lithid’s outstretched arm wide, and, finishing the spin, she stopped behind her surprised enemy. Without turning to face her, Keryn shifted the knife in her hand and drove the blade behind her, striking the Lithid between the shoulderblades. Like the Oterian, she fell helplessly to the ground.

Keryn turned to face Iana. The Pilgrim’s eyes grew wide at facing such a confident opponent. She shifted the knife back and forth in her hand, and Keryn easily identified the numerous weaknesses in her defense. Smiling, she stalked toward Iana. Within moments, Iana joined the other two, lying on her back and glowering at her Wyndgaart roommate.