Saxon Andrew: Love conquers all

On a field trip to one of Earth’s two naval shipyards, Tag’s class saw one of the new destroyers landing, and their tour guide talked about how the Coronado power cell revolutionized the building of spacecraft. They no longer had to be more than 3,600 feet long to contain all the shielding and weapons necessary to protect the crews from the old nuclear reactors in order to survive in space warfare. One of the newest destroyers could easily defeat ten of the old warships. When asked how many ships the navy had, the guide said that was classified. “I hope we have a lot, especially in light of all the trouble we’ve had with the Alliance,” Tag thought. “It can’t be a large number,” he mused. “We only have two shipyards on the entire planet and that’s for building commercial as well as military spacecraft.” In history class he had learned that the Alliance had restricted humanity to only two shipyards on Earth at the same time they imposed the twenty-light-year limit. This was done to control the number of warships humanity could build.

Tag liked watching people go about their everyday tasks. He was a keen observer of behavior, which enabled him to see things most people didn’t. For instance, that man who was planting a flower in his roof garden on top of a building they were passing had a small serial number at the base of his neck that let Tag know that he served in the naval marines. One of his hand-to-hand instructors in school had the same type of tattoo on his neck, and he explained that all the other military branches had their tattoos on their arms. The naval marines had them on their necks so their space armor could confirm that the right owner was putting it on quickly; the vacuum of space required quick entry. The army could usually take their time putting on their armor since they normally operated on a planet’s surface. Every armored suit recognized its owner’s serial number, and if it wasn’t the right number, the armor was programmed to self-destruct with the person inside who didn’t belong.

“He’s really not that big to be a marine,” Tag thought as he watched the marine tend his garden. “Of course in zero gravity you probably don’t have to be very big. One thing’s for certain, that’s one tough soldier I wouldn’t want mad at me.” He knew that marines were very dangerous people. Their hand-to-hand combat skills were well documented and respected. “He’s someone I would avoid.”

Tag thought back to his fourteenth level in school and the marine instructors that were his teachers that year. The fourteenth level is when all students are given classes in hand-to-hand self-defense. Part of the reason for these classes is to find those who have an aptitude for learning the physical moves that are necessary to excel in hand-to-hand fighting. Tag thought it seemed weird to be teaching students how to fight when if you ever had a fight you would be expelled from school; but the cities still had criminals, so learning these skills could save your life. The real reason why everyone had to take the class was so that those who were good could be considered for future military service. Everyone had to take the class once a day for the entire level. Tag discovered very quickly that he could disable and hurt anyone he was fighting. Like everything else, he discovered it by accident. Without thinking, in one of his first matches, which happened to be with Eric, he knew exactly where he was going to move and knew where to hit him so that the force of the blow and Eric’s movement combined for maximum effect. He didn’t swing hard, which was a good thing, because he broke his best friend’s arm. He knew he was only able to do this by using his gift, and he remembered his promise to his mother not to use it. So from that point on he allowed his opponents to win, but he continued to practice moves during class and especially at home. His instructors decided that that first bout was just luck. His sense of knowing where his opponent would move gave him a huge unfair advantage, and it also prevented any of his opponents from ever really landing a solid blow when they beat him. Just like his game of tag as a five-year-old, no one could really tag him with a hard blow during these sessions. These particular skills were going to save his life many times in the future. However, at seventeen years old he learned the skills simply because it gave him great pleasure to be able to control his physical movements. He would sit in these classes and close his eyes and be able to see in his mind the motions opponents made as they clashed with each other. The instructors never lost, but he could tell that they were not using all their skills. In his mind’s eye he could see the instructors start to deliver blows that could injure students, then stop and use other moves that were not as effective and were less dangerous. What he didn’t know was the instructors were observing not only the students who were competing but also those that were watching. Their reports listed Tag as someone who had no affinity or interest in what they were teaching. “He sleeps through most of the class,” they wrote. These reports eliminated the possibility of him ever having a military career. What they didn’t realize, and Tag didn’t know himself, was that he would never need training; his body just knew what to do to protect him.

Some of his classmates did quite well, including one whom he never tired of watching. Leila Barber seldom lost against her classmates. Tag knew that she loved dancing and gymnastics, and those skills translated well in hand-to-hand self-defense. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had long black hair, brown eyes, and an olive complexion, possessed a slim but strong body, and moved with a grace that even someone without his gift could see. He had been watching her since he had felt her looking at his picture when he was seven years old. He had never gotten the nerve to talk with her but had gazed at her whenever he could. It wasn’t only her beauty that attracted him; she was also one of the smartest people he had ever known. This combination not only beguiled him, but intimidated him.

“How could she ever be interested in someone like me?” he wondered. It seemed that all the boys that had wealthy families and popularity were constantly asking her out. So he kept his distance and loved her from afar. Though he promised his mother not to use his gift, he would sometimes watch her and not let her see him do it. It was one of these times on the floater coming home from school where he was gazing at her that led to the start of his troubles with the Enforcement Committee. Enforcement Committee: they were two simple words that didn’t sound dangerous at all. However, it was this branch of government security that ruthlessly stamped out dissension and had the power to make people disappear. That day on the floater put him on a collision course with the agency that would shape the future of his life and mankind.

O n that particular day Tag was sitting two seats away from Leila and her best friend Tara, and he was enjoying the view. And what a view. Leila was wearing a bright yellow sundress with a matching ribbon that tied her hair in a ponytail. She was amazing. Tara was a very pretty girl, too, but in a different way from Leila. Tara had short red hair and green eyes and was tall. She was two inches taller than Tag and had a shape that most movie stars would die for. She was pretty, but not as gorgeous as Leila, at least not in his opinion. He relaxed in his seat and felt the warmth of the sun on his back and fantasized about going out with Leila. The city passed below and he felt relaxed and comfortable, looking out at the city and Leila, his two favorite pastimes. The public floater was only half full, and most of the riders were students going home after class. No one was saying much because they had taken the administrative placement test that day, which was required of all students the year before they graduated. The test had started early in the morning and lasted seven hours. Tag was tired, but never too tired to gaze at Leila. He noticed that something was different today. She was quiet and slumped over in her seat, which was not like her at all. Suddenly Leila started crying. Tara put her arm around Leila and started whispering. “What’s wrong with her?” Tag thought. He moved unseen to the seat behind them so he could hear what was going on.