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Spires
3.22

3.22

Now, Earth

Remy double checked to make sure that there were no people walking behind the target zone. There shouldn’t have been anyways. It was dark and the only people with any business being outside the safety of their homes were the patrols. And since he was in the park near his house the watch knew that they didn’t need to be there.

“Okay, Tessa. You’re clear. Remember, minimum power.”

There was a loud bang as the sound barrier broke.

The little hex nut shattered the glass bottle and plunged into the sand and dirt berm behind.

Remy glanced at the cobbled together velocity measuring device one of the eggheads on the research team put together. The same as the other times. The nut had flown significantly faster than a bullet.

“Damn it!”

“Tessa… language.”

“I can’t do it,” Tessa snapped.

“Try to picture throwing a ball. You can throw it as hard as you can or you can lob it.”

“I am!”

The dim light provided by the lanterns around them did nothing to hide the frustration on Tessa’s face. Remy knew from experience that his daughter was at her limit. They weren’t going to be able to reach a breakthrough with her heels dug in and convinced that she couldn’t do it.

“Okay. We’ll pick it up again next time.”

“This is dumb. My power is on and off. There’s no adjusting the level.”

“Not true. You can already hold it before releasing it.”

“Yeah, but what’s the point of that. It hurts my head and I can’t move around. It just makes me a sitting duck.”

“It increases the velocity of your projectiles,” Remy frowned. “That’s a significant point.”

“So it goes from really fast to really, really fast. Either way the monsters are dead.”

This was a familiar retread to Remy. “It also teaches you control. Picture it as a foundation you’re building on. You thought your power was just on and off. Well, that’s not true is it? And you wouldn’t have learned that without experimentation.”

“Fine… whatever. I’ll just give myself a headache then,” Tessa pouted.

“Tessa,” Remy warned. “If you’re not willing to put in the work then you won’t be able to go out and fight monsters.”

“Well, I’ll be eighteen in two years. I can go fight whatever I want then.” Tessa crossed her arms.

“Right and then when you run into something you can’t handle because you refused to develop your powers and skills to their maximum potential you’ll die and make us all very sad,” Remy said flatly. This was also a familiar retread.

“Yeah, we’ll cry,” Veronica said from where she was sitting on the grass. Her legs were crossed and her eyes were closed. Her face was scrunched and her forehead glistened with sweat in the lantern light.

“Veronica, you’re supposed to be concentrating,” Remy said.

“I am!”

“Fine,” Tessa turned back to the bottles arrayed around fifty feet away. She took another hex nut from the pouch at her belt and held it in her upturned palm. A look of concentration crossed her face. The nut levitated a few inches up and vibrated, as if it was straining against an invisible force keeping it in place.

Remy could feel the magnetic field around his daughter’s hand through his own ever present magnetic field. It was an instinctive thing. He felt and saw the immense power that Tessa was generating as it bled out from her hand and began to expand out along her outstretched arm.

Tessa’s eyes were focused on the targets. Ten seconds passed until the nut tore free of its shackles and boomed across the space. Another bottle shattered.

Tessa was gasping for breath, as if she had just sprinted across the field.

“Good job. Keep doing that.” From what Remy could tell, his daughter put out enough power to propel a car at a similar speed. He needed to figure out the logistics of practicing that. Tessa clearly didn’t know her power’s strength. The consequences would be disastrous if she had an accident.

“Are you ready, Veronica?”

“Yes, dad.”

Remy wasn’t sure what to make of the bright smile on his daughter’s face. Was it because of her excitement for all things powers-related? Or was it because she was about to get another chance to fry her father’s brain? He supposed that it could’ve been both.

It was a good thing that he had figured out how to use his own ability to generate and control magnetic fields to block Veronica’s electromagnetic pulses.

Remy led Veronica a short distance away from where Tessa was shattering bottles.

“Remember, minimum power. The goal of our exercise is to teach you how to aim and build up your endurance. We can’t do that if you blow your energy in just a few big shots.”

“Right, control, got it,” Veronica grinned.

They had been at their nightly powers practice for the entire week. Remy still had to remind his daughters to control themselves. That they didn’t need to go all out all the time. He had no idea where they got the full-speed ahead attitude from. Neither he nor his wife were like that.

Remy paced off about thirty yards away from Veronica. He created a magnetic field to protect his brain as he called out to his daughter. “Are you ready?”

“Ready!”

The smile dropped from Veronica’s face with frightening quickness. A determined look replaced it.

“Zero to a hundred, just like that,” Remy sighed. “Remember your goal is to get as many hits on me as you can before I reach you.”

Remy saw Veronica’s curt nod despite the distance and dim light. The conditions weren’t ideal to hit a fast moving target, which was good for training purposes. He wanted to prepare his daughters as much as he could. To that end he wanted their training to be more challenging that real world scenarios.

Remy set the timer on his phone to ten seconds. “I’m going on the buzzer.”

When it rang, he moved.

Almost immediately he registered a weak electromagnetic pulse on the field shielding his brain. Not bad, but hitting him from a standstill was easy for Veronica after an intense week of practice.

Remy zigged to the right. He registered another weak pulse on the larger magnetic field around his entire body. It was about a foot off-target.

He planted his feet into the grass and zagged back to the left. Veronica’s pulse tickled the air next to his ear. Closer. Remy smiled. His daughter was improving.

Veronica was too cute with her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. He’d have to remind her not to do that. Too easy to accidentally bite it during a fight.

Remy registered a second hit! He was pleased. A trained shooter wouldn’t have managed to touch him with the speed and quickness he was moving forward with. He knew that from firsthand experience.

Miss, miss, hit!

Remy sprinted directly at Veronica. He covered the ten feet in the blink of an eye. His daughter yelped as her last pulse splashed harmlessly against his feet.

“Missed.” Remy gently booped his daughter’s nose. “You are dead,” he grinned to take the sting out of it.

“But I got you three times this time. That’s the most ever!”

“Yeah, I guess that means we have to make it harder.” Remy went over to where he had piled some training aids. He grabbed a bag of cornhole bags and jogged back into place. “This time I get to attack too. Same rules as before, but now you’re going to have to dodge, let’s say you can move side to side, but not back or forward.”

Veronica narrowed her eyes. “That’s not fair. You can move all over the place.”

“Training’s supposed to be unfair!” Tessa chimed in. Her voice was distinctly disgruntled.

Remy smiled.

Veronica shot a glare at Tessa’s back.

“I hope you’re ready, cause I’m ready.” Remy pulled the cornhole bags out and sent them orbiting around him. This would be a training opportunity for him as well. He was interested to see if he could counter the disruptive effects of Veronica’s electromagnetic pulses.

This time when the buzzer rang he didn’t move. He registered a pulse on the magnetic field around his head immediately. This one was stronger than the last time, but not strong enough to overcome his shield. He shot a cornhole bag at Veronica at a fastball speed. His daughter was significantly tougher than a normal eleven-year old. She could handle it.

Veronica yelped and ducked. The cornhole bag just barely missed. She glared at Remy.

He started moving forward. Slower and less erratically this time. He wanted to see if his daughter could adapt to a new challenge. He shot another bag at her feet. She ignored the shower of grass and dirt that sprayed her legs as the bag bounced to her left.

A strong electromagnetic pulse struck to Remy’s right. For a moment he thought it was a miss, until the bags orbiting in that area suddenly dropped to the ground. Belatedly, he realized that Veronica had disrupted his magnetic field. It had happened too fast for him to counter.

A second pulse exploded in his head. Once again it was stronger. He felt his body spasm for a split-second, while the other cornhole bags orbiting around him dropped before he could reshape his magnetic fields.

“Hit!” Remy said. He was impressed. His brain was still tingling.

Veronica’s mouth split in a feral grin.

Where did she get that from? Remy had no idea when his baby girl turned into such a ready fighter.

Remy resisted the urge to smile. “Coming at you.” He wiped the smile off his daughter’s face with a barrage of cornhole bags.

The battle began in earnest.

----------------------------------------

“Hey, hon? I’ve got a question,” Remy hesitated. “Have you noticed the girls being a little more… aggressive… lately?”

“Oh yeah. It’s not surprising. They’ve had to grow up with their father having to go off and fight literal monsters out in the dark. They’ve done the same. Plus, they’ve got combat training on a daily basis. I’m not particularly happy about it, but a little aggression in that context is normal.”

“Ah, good… I guess. I thought it was just me,” Remy said.

“So… you lost then?” Megan placed some ice into a bag and wrapped it in a hand towel before handing it to Remy.

Remy took the ice bag and gingerly placed it over the right side of his face. “Thanks, hon… I was operating at a disadvantage. I couldn’t go for the head.”

Megan’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. “I’m glad you were smart enough to realize that you couldn’t hit your own daughters in their heads.”

“It’s for practice. Monsters and bad guys don’t have the same restrictions,” Remy shrugged. “Plus, they’re superhumanly strong and tough.”

“Oh, just like you? With the bruise covering the right half of your face?” Megan moved Remy’s hand and poked and prodded at the tender flesh.

Remy endured the less then tender ministrations. He knew that his wife was imagining the same injury on her daughters. “I took a cornhole bag at somewhere between mach two and three right in the face. And it only knocked me out for like not even five seconds.”

“Here, give me the ice bag so I can check you out.” Megan held her hand over Remy’s face and head as she whispered something. Thirty seconds passed in silence. “Well, nothing is broken and I don’t think you have a concussion… but there is definitely something off about your brain. Veronica’s doing?”

Remy nodded.

“I don’t think you’re in any danger. We can get you an MRI tomorrow if you want.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ve got a sense of these things.”

Megan arched a brow.

“I can generate and control magnetic fields. It gives me a diagnostic ability when it comes to figuring out what’s going on with the electrical signals in my brain.”

“If you say so.”

“What? It’s legit science now,” Remy said.

Megan handed the ice bag back to Remy. “The girls said that you were playing super dodgeball. Remind me again how is that training?”

“Teaches aim and dodging. It’s perfect. I wish I had thought of it sooner. Definitely going to work it in moving forward,” Remy said.

“But they only have one more day of hell week,” Megan rolled her eyes.

“Well about that… they sort of adapted really well to it. They stopped puking after the second day. I think I’m actually going to have to increase the intensity until we find their real limits.”

Megan didn’t look happy at that. “Fine, but on one condition. I’m going to need to give them full physicals. I’m concerned about any potential damage to their bodies. You might be willing to hand wave everything away with ‘superhuman’ this, that, bla bla,” Megan looked Remy in the eyes, “but I’m not.”

“Um… I was actually going to ask about that.” Remy took in the skeptical look on his wife’s face. “I swear! That’s been on my mind.”

Megan nodded. “Once a week, blood work, MRI and anything else I can think of.”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“Stop,” Remy held up a hand. “I’m not the one you have to convince.”

“Well, they don’t have a choice if they want to keep training,” Megan crossed her arms.

“I’ll tell them tomorrow.”

Megan nodded, satisfied. “We’ll get a baseline tomorrow.”

“Uh, how much time will all of that take? We’re kinda on a tight schedule.” Remy was a brave man.

“An hour and a half, two hours tops… I guess we can break the tests up over several days,” Megan sighed.

“Thanks!”

“Whatever. I’m going to bed. Don’t forget that you need at least a little sleep. You’ll put us in danger if you start seeing things that aren’t there.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Just a reminder.” Megan kissed Remy on his undamaged cheek. “Good night, hon.”

----------------------------------------

A large group of men and women gathered near the banks of a canal in a defensive formation. Lantern lights revealed large eyes shining just above the surface of the still water.

“Hey…”

An elbow nudged Gene in the side. He tried to ignore it, but the jabs were growing more incessant and stronger.

“What do you want, Trevor?” Gene whispered harshly.

“Whoa! Relax bro, just wanted to ask how you’re holding up.”

“Fuck you talking about?”

“I just wanted to let you know that if you and Seabass were feeling sad about being split up from your butt buddies then I’m willing to lend an ear,” Trevor snickered.

“Jeez, you’re a grown man,” Mads whispered.

“It’s not big deal, kid. We went to high school together. It’s just how we bust balls.” Trevor clapped a hand on Gene’s shoulder.

“You were a senior and we were freshmen,” Bastien said.

“We also didn’t hang out,” Gene leveled a cold glare at Trevor. Gene wasn’t a scrawny fourteen year old anymore. He couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t that much shorter than Trevor. Nor were their physical builds that far apart.

“Well, yeah, you were freshmen,” Trevor shrugged.

“What are you anyways? Like thirty? Shouldn’t you be not immature?” Mads said.

“Damn, that’s harsh,” Trevor grinned. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you that bullying is wrong? But, since this is a teachable moment, I will answer your hostile attitude with disarming honesty. I am twenty four. Although, you’re not entirely wrong. My mom has always said I need to grow up… still does, as a matter of fact.”

“We’re not sad,” Bastien said. “We’re concentrating on the canal. There are a lot of eyes out there. Who knows how many more are under the water?”

“Seabass is always on the ball,” Trevor nodded. “Look, bros and girl,” he glanced at Mads, “all I’m suggesting is that you shouldn’t be so clique-y. You should mix with other people more. I get that team cohesion is a good thing, but there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing. Right?”

Gene frowned.

“You can’t be married to your team. Otherwise it can mess you up if the team changes. People leave…” Trevor’s voice lowered, “or die.”

Gene remembered. “I get what you’re saying.”

“How much longer are you guys in the shithouse?” Trevor said.

“Officer Lawrence said until she says so. No idea what that means. It’s been three weeks already,” Gene said.

“Manual labor must be getting old?”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it. I picked up Lesser Enhanced Stamina!” Gene grinned.

“Me too,” Bastien added.

Mads shook her head bitterly. “Apparently the spires think you shouldn’t get anything for helping little old ladies.”

“Hmmm… in that case, maybe I’ll join you. Digging holes I mean. It might give me the boost I need to finally move up from Lesser Enhanced Stamina,” Trevor said.

“Ladies, shut it!” Rebekah Court barked.

The guilty party jumped.

“Sorry, boss,” Trevor said. “My fault. I just had some questions.”

“Don’t care. I need quiet unless you want me to blow myself up,” Rebekah gestured at the sticks of dynamite she was connecting to the timed detonator. “I swear to god. If you are the reason for my untimely death then I will come back as a ghost and wear you like a meat puppet. I will legit make you eat your own shit,” the soldier snapped.

“Damn, she mad,” Trevor whispered to Gene.

Gene was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He simply took a step away. In fact, everyone standing near Trevor did so.

It was deathly silent for the next ten minutes as Rebekah finished getting the explosives ready.

“Five sticks of dynamite per bundle. Five bundles. One every twenty yards. If there are any fishpeople down there then this should send them up,” Rebekah said.

The plan was simple, but Gene was dubious. He remembered their fight with the fishman. Just the one was enough for most of his team. It had left a lingering bitter taste in his mouth to realize that Tessa’s presence was the only reason he and his friends were still alive.

“Trevor!”

“Yes, ma’am?” Trevor hurried over.

“Are you sure you can cover a hundred yard spread? These things are awkward.”

“Practiced with the dummy mock ups. Each dynamite bundle spaced out in twenty yard intervals. Easy,” Trevor grinned.

“Alright, all-star. I’ll arm them. You throw, don’t wait too long,” Rebekah said.

“Or we all go boom,” Trevor mimed an explosion with his hands.

Rebekah unceremoniously armed the timer on the first dynamite bundle and handed it to Trevor. The young man almost dropped it before he quickly wound up and pitched it in a high arc into the canal.

The soldier handed each explosive bundle in quick succession to the Athlete: Pitcher, who flung the packages in precise twenty yard intervals until a hundred yards of the canal length was covered.

Rebekah checked her timer. “Fire in the hole!” She barked.

Five massive explosions shook the cool night air.

A mixture of water and other less savory things rained down on the gathered watch members.

Frenzied action burst forth from the canal.

Dozens of mutant frogs, some the size of large dogs, hopped toward the people.

Gene was relieved that there were no fishmen.

“Front line get in position!” Rebekah barked. “Ranged, mind your firing lanes!”

Gene stepped to the fore. He drew his sword with one hand and pointed his other hand to a cluster of mutant frogs.

“Fireball!”

The burning orb impacted in the middle of a group of monsters and exploded. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

“No offense, bruh, but I’m glad that I don’t have to call out my attacks.” Trevor was several paces behind Gene. He pulled a small, smooth stone from the pouch at his belt and pitched it into one of the largest monsters. The stone cracked against the middle of the mutant frog’s forehead. It was an impressively accurate throw since the monster was midleap. When the monster crashed back to the ground it remained still.

“Show-off,” Gene muttered.

Gene felt something whistle past his ear at the same time that a loud bang almost caused him to jump.

Another of the larger mutant frogs was blown apart midleap.

“A little close, Mads?!”

“I only hit what I’m aiming for!” Mads barked back.

“Spotters, keep those lights on the water! If you see any fishpeople, call it out!”

Rebekah’s loud voice was somehow clean and clear over the cacophony of violence.

Melee weapons sliced, pierced and bashed, while gunfire echoed over the twangs of bow strings.

The mutant frogs added their monstrous croaks to the chaos.

Gene focused on his sword work. Just as he had practiced. Precise execution of technique repeated until it was engraved in his muscle memory. It was believed that was the key to developing Skills.

Gene fought with two hands on his longsword. Cuts and thrusts were only interrupted by the occasional spell.

He grit his teeth in determination. There may have been no fishmen in the canal tonight, but he was going to be ready for the next time he faced one.

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Then, Threnosh World

The cragant spotted Blueballs hiding behind one of the prefabricated structures that served as soldiers’ quarters. Being nearly twice as tall as the structure made seeing over them easy.

Blueballs ducked back just as the cragant thrust their spear. The Threnosh had scrambled back all the way to the other side of the structure in their fright, which saved them.

The cragant swept their spear across the structure. The thick wooden shaft combined with the cragant’s immense strength was too much for the lightweight composite material. The cragant swept the entire structure aside.

Blueballs kept running. They turned and blindly fired small blue-colored balls from their gauntlet in the cragants general direction.

As luck would have it. The cragant had brought their spear shaft in contact with their shield edge at the instant that one of the expanding balls hit the same exact spot.

The cragant looked at the blue ball with confusion as it tried to pry its spear free. It slowly increased the strength of its exertion until the thick wooden shaft broke. The cragant was left with a broken stick in one hand and the rest of its spear, including the head attached to its shield by the blue ball.

“This is ridiculous.” The cragant’s voice was a deep rumble.

The cragant threw the broken shaft at Blueballs, who dove behind another structure. The shaft crushed the upper portion and whistled over the prone Threnosh as it went on to destroy two more structures.

The cragant drew its sword and stomped toward Blueballs.

They could see the giant humanoid’s eyes through the thin slits of its helmet. Its mouth was bared in a snarl.

Blueballs wasn’t clear on the details of emotions, but from Honor’s lessons they surmised that it was angry, which meant that it greatly desired to release said anger on the cause. The Threnosh was certain that they were said cause.

They fired more blue balls at the cragant.

It blocked them with its enormous shield.

That wasn’t going to work.

Blueballs shifted their aim lower. They peppered the cragant’s feet. The balls stuck to the ground and the Threnosh felt hope and satisfaction. If they remembered the lessons correctly.

Then the cragant took a step and another.

The balls may have adhered to the ground. The only problem was that the grass and soil wasn’t nearly strong enough to hold the giant humanoid in place. Great clumps came free underneath the soles of the cragant’s boots as it kept advancing on Blueballs.

A high-pitched roar warbled electronically. Something small jumped on the cragant’s back. It felt heavy impacts on the back of its helmet. The blows rocked its head forward. The giant humanoid saw stars as it stumbled forward.

“Thank you, Malendrax,” Blueballs said into the comms.

Malendrax’s reply was an electronically-tinged grunt. Their faceplate was an expressionless face that supposedly resembled an ancient, progenitor race to the modern Threnosh. Their power armor was short and squat, not much taller than the normal Threnosh, but significantly bulkier and more muscular. Artificial musculature bulged beneath the silvery, thin, flexible composite material that mimicked skin. An obvious sign of the enhanced strength that the power-armor provided its wearer. The only hint of the biological being within were two eyes that seemed to blaze with rage behind the clear eye lenses.

Malendrax punched the back of the cragant with their over-sized gauntlets, Impact Fists was what they were labeled in the spires’ marketplace. The name said it all. The fist portion of the gauntlet shot out several centimeters at faster than the speed of sound right before impacting a target. The loud bang was surpassed by the damage done.

The cragant dropped its shield as it staggered under the unrelenting assault. It reached over its shoulder and grabbed Malendrax around their legs and squeezed as hard as they could.

Malendrax’s power armor was crushed, as where their legs within. The pain blinded them for a moment and they stopped punching.

Opportunity for the cragant.

The giant humanoid slammed Malendrax to the ground.

The impact shook the ground, threw up clods of grass and soil and left the Threnosh in a small crater.

Malendrax was in bad shape. Their legs were crushed, they felt something broken inside their body when they tried to stand. One arm was bent at the elbow in the wrong direction.

The cragant raised a foot to stomp the Threnosh like a pesky insect.

Blueballs saved their teammate with a barrage of balls that struck the cragant all over the front of its body, including its face.

Its descending foot stomped just to the side of Malendrax. One arm was stuck to the side of its body by the sticky blue balls that even its gigantic strength couldn’t overcome.

Malendrax crawled away as their power armor revealed its main ability. The catastrophic damage repaired itself. The Threnosh’s injuries were healed as well. It was painful as shattered bones re-knitted and crushed organs slowly became as good as new.

In less than a minute, Malendrax was standing strong. They still felt raw from the residual pain of damage and injuries that should’ve spelled their death. Their power-armor was fully repaired as was their biological body.

Their self-repairing and healing ability was superior to Shira’s and Adjudicator’s. Malendrax’s worked faster while it didn’t require outside resources to function. The former required an influx of biological blood, while the latter needed to drain biological life energy with their tendrils.

The cragant was blinded by the blue balls covering the front of their steel helm and the dents in the back. They pulled it off with some difficulty. Only to see Malendrax’s over-sized fist as they leaped at it.

The loud bang resounded across the plains as the fist crushed the cragant’s nose in. The giant humanoid fell back. Its vision went black as the back of its unprotected head cracked hard into the ground.

Malendrax didn’t stop punching until the cragant’s face was unrecognizable and their gauntlets were caked in blood and gore.

“Impressive,” Shira said as they appeared.

Blueballs jumped. “I did not notice you approach.”

Malendrax said nothing. They simple stared at the devastation they had wreaked on the cragant.

“Caretaker states that the senior commander has agreed to their plan. We are to escort the command group to the landing zone.” Shira bent down and plunged one arm into what was once the cragant’s face.

Blueballs belatedly noticed that Shira’s power armor was significantly damaged. It repaired itself right before their eyes.

“Let us go,” Shira said as she stood. Their gauntlet was spotless.

----------------------------------------

Now, Threnosh World

Cal was in trouble. He was losing soldiers at an alarming rate.

The flat, rectangular metal pieces belonging to his opponent encroached on his territory with a confidence bordering on arrogance. As if the outcome had already been determined.

The metal pieces were bent at at 90-degree angle, which meant that the only he could see was the blank front surfaces that gleamed in the sun. He scanned the ranks on the back of his own pieces while he pondered his next move.

“Any day now,” Nila said with a roll of her eyes.

Cal ignored her.

He took his three-star general and moved it up one square in an attempt to kill Nila’s soldier. The unknown, to Cal, soldier had already dispatched his one-star general and a colonel. Go big or go home.

Cal and Nila looked over at Veronica, who was playing with her guinea pig, Twinkle Star, on the picnic blanket the four of them shared.

“Oh… right.” Veronica loomed over the board as she looked at Nila’s piece then Cal’s. She consulted her notes and primly removed Cal’s piece from the board and placed it out of play on his side.

“Oh, c’mon!”

Cal felt a stinging sensation across his back. Like a scratch or a cut, but before it could take hold of his thoughts, Nila distracted him with a flick on his nose.

“Ha! You’re losing sight of the greater battle,” Nila said. “Tunnel vision will be your downfall.” Nila moved the same piece forward to challenge another of his pieces.

Cal tried not to smile. It was his four-star general. There were only two pieces that Nila’s could’ve possibly been. It wasn’t a spy since he had already lost one of his privates to it. And since it had just defeated his three-star then it either had to be a four or five-star.

Veronica checked again except this time she glanced at Nila for some reason.

“Why you looking at her for?” Cal squinted at his niece theatrically. “Is it treachery?”

“No,” Veronica said, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.

To his utter lack of surprise Veronica took his piece and added it to the defeated pile on his side. This time she looked at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“Such treason,” Cal sighed. At least he knew that it had to be a five-star general. There was no other possibility. The thought was briefly interrupted by a stinging sensation across his chest. He felt something wet at his back. Rain? Not possible. It was a sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. Hence the backyard picnic and game day. “Well, time to begin my comeback.” Cal moved a piece over to the right and challenged Nila’s five-star general with his spy.

Veronica cast a dark shadow over the board as she slowly checked the two pieces. It took her some time, which Cal couldn’t process. He glanced at her shadow and noticed that something was off. It almost looked like she had a dozen hands and arms. He blinked and it was back to normal. The wet sensation had spread to the front of his shirt. Another stinging sensation lashed across his thighs.

“What’s taking so long, Veronica?” Cal frowned. Annoyed for some reason.

Veronica dropped Twinkle Star on the other side of the board. “Oh no! He’s escaping!”

It was ridiculously blatant. Cal was now certain he was being cheated. He rolled his eyes and grabbed at the black-furred guinea pig. He ended up grabbing Twinkle Star’s right rear leg. “What the f—funk?” The leg was huge, more akin to a small dog’s in size. Cal stared at the impossibly large guinea pig as it twisted around and bit his arm. Cal let go with a curse. The guinea pig’s chisel-like teeth weren’t harmless at its larger size. They left a deep avulsion in Cal’s arm. “Wait a minute…”

Veronica placed Cal’s piece with the rest of his defeated pieces. “Sorry, Uncle Honor. Aunt Nila’s was higher.”

Cal was having a hard time focusing on his niece and Nila on the other side of the board. Their faces wavered. Their voices distorted. He suddenly realized that music or a song, or both had been playing the entire time. It was the same sounds he had been hearing in Orchestral Meridian. And perhaps even before.

Before he could turn his mind to the problem he felt a thick blanket smother him. Its embrace was too enticing to resist.