On the morning of the 100-kilometer qualifier, there were a total of two-hundred and seven Cultivators that had presented for the Blessed One’s race. Forty-nine were from Clan Sundai, including Josh and Sen. They had been formally inducted into the Clan the night before at a banquet to celebrate the event.
As part of their induction, Myrina had placed the Clan’s name via tattoo laterally down the underside of their left forearms. She had asked if they had wanted to use invo-ink that would only reveal itself under ID lights. They both declined, proud of having made friends who also considered them worthy. Gusti, who sat at their table, let Josh and Sen know that there were rights and requirements of their membership, but that he would fill them in after the race was finished.
Their induction into the Clan also meant they would participate in the Clan’s plan for its Cultivators during the qualifying 100-kilometer race. Gusti and Jorng’a stepped up to the tables where the racers sat. Gusti clapped his hands and the feeling of having their ears popped accompanied a clearly discernible wave of pressure that expanded out in a sphere around them and then, surprisingly halted, maintaining cohesion in a bubble around the group.
The Orangutan Affin winked at everyone. “That ought to keep prying eyes and ears out. Now, kids... let’s talk strategy.” He waved to Jorng’a.
Jorng’a rumbled out in his super subwoofer voice, “As nearly twenty-five percent of the competitors, you all are uniquely positioned to dominate the field. While the others will attempt to unite, they will be much less unified in purpose than the children of Sundai will be. Use this to your advantage—” Jorng’a looked about to continue with specific advice, but Gusti waved him off.
“Easy, partner. They have their own leadership and know their strengths and weaknesses best. Any plan they make will have to be executed only by them. Best to let them form one from the beginning that is part and parcel of them. If you get my meaning.” Gusti smiled with high cheeks in an almost apologetic manner to Jorng’a.
The big Bison Affin considered for a second and then nodded in agreement as he backed away a step and held up a thick forearm indicating they should get to planning.
Tono stood up and led the meeting. With input from many, a simple but effective plan acceptable to everyone was laid out. At only 100 kilometers long, even the slowest runners would finish in forty minutes. Sen, Josh, Meni the Mouse Affin, and two other Rabbit Affins were the Clan’s fastest runners. They could all finish it in approximately thirty-three minutes.
However, the goal was for the Clan to finish as a group. If they could manage it, they wanted all forty-nine of their members to qualify. They didn’t simply want a slice of the pie–they wanted the entire thing. For this, they would need to avoid getting bogged down in combat at the outset. It was unlikely that any group would completely sacrifice their chance at winning a speed race so they could lie in wait along the course and stop others. The consensus was to avoid contact with the closely packed groups at the outset and set a strong rear guard if the Clan were the ones out in front. If the Clan was behind as a group, then it would become the fastest runners for themselves. All accepted that. It was also possible that other groups would use their fastest runners to break away and lie in ambush to slow down groups that were faster than their group as a whole.
Summing up the plan, Tono instructed the runners, “Avoid pride-fighting. Stay together in a unified column and be faster than everybody else. Most of us should make it.”
There was, however, also Nagal to consider. He was a wildcard that Gusti warned the entire group to be wary of.
Some had thought the troublemaking Naga had been knocked out of the race due to the transient Meridian recovery from his run-in with Cahya. However, two days ago, he had presented himself outside the town’s walls, extending his arms for all to see that he was back, and likely ready for some payback against the Clan’s junior members in the race.
Regardless of his intentions, as a dual-Attuned Cultivator, Nagal would be hands down, the fastest racer on the field. Given his Earth Cultivation, he could likely finish the one-hundred kilometers in approximately twenty-two minutes. Gusti informed them that Nagal would have been much quicker if the fates had combined Force with Fire.
To that Josh rolled his eyes. ~Thank heaven for the small miracles.~
~Agreed!~
The real issue was that Nagal was an unknown commodity who walked something close to an adharmic Path. That he could finish first was without question, and if that was what Nagal did, good on him. However, he might try to deny anyone else entry and lay in ambush at the finish line.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Gusti, who had spent the most time with the ‘ornery critter’, gave his best advice. “Be prepared for him to be waiting at the end. Get around him if possible. Have a plan to fight him off if not. If it’s necessary to fight, a fast-moving, hard-hitting strike team of five or six to delay the Naga until the rest have gotten past would be my suggestion. The attacking group should then break combat and get themselves through the finish line.”
Tono raised his eyebrows at that.
Sen’s eyes widened. ~Breaking away from Nagal is much easier said than done. The group staying behind will not do well if worse comes to worst!~
~You’re right.~ Sen frowned. ~He’s a tough nut to crack. I’ve been thinking of a plan... What do you think?~
Josh shared his ideas with Sen.
With the Clan’s runners grouped five columns across and ten deep on the starting line, Josh and Sen looked at the competition in the flesh for the first time.
Closest in line to the Clan’s runners, with twenty-two participants of their own—the Zangui Clan was the next largest group. The Zangui were like the Sundai in that they were primarily Beast Affins. They differed in that they hadn’t brought the entire Clan to support their contestants. Over the weeks, some Zangui contestants had made it known they felt abandoned. especially when compared to the assistance the Sundai had offered even its youngest members.
When Josh asked why the Sundai had relocated to assist its weakest Cultivators, given that none of the other groups present had done so, Gusti smiled sadly and said, “How would you support your children?”
Enough said.
The difference was obvious enough to the Zangui that many of them had asked if they could join the Sunday before the race. Gusti made it clear that Karma would remain unbalanced if they were to join before the event, but he iterated that after it concluded, all applications would be entertained.
It was generally believed the fastest runners from Zangui would try to qualify for the race. However, it was agreed that none would attack the Sundai as they were expected to join the Clan en bloc after the race. With the help of the Sundai, they could wait for the next palace race and be successful then. It was only 1000 cycles, after all.
The next two groups were a different story. Both the Gandun Cultivators Union, with fifteen contestants, and the Savoy Corporation, fielding nineteen, were recognized as unfriendly to the Sundai. They were both adversaries to the extent that unsanctioned fighting had broken out between them and the Sundai in the past several centuries.
The Gandun Union was a loose, private affiliation of Cultivators from several nearby systems who felt entitled to the Blessed One’s Ip’pul fruits because of their proximity and reported historical ties. These ‘ties’, however, were ones that they never got around to specifying whenever questioned directly about the exact details.
The Savoy Corporation was a privatized collective that offered Cultivation opportunities to its members in exchange for several thousand standard solar rotations of service to meet the corporation’s mercenary contracts. The Savoy Corp. was feared throughout the local galaxy for its ruthless tactics against those they were hired to deal with as well as against its own soldiers who ran afoul of the Savoy’s leadership. The Savoy Corp. had more overall members than the Sundai, but significantly less in the upper tiers of Tetrahedral Cultivation than the Sundai Clan. The Clan accepted that if things went against the Savoy here, there would be future confrontations with them over it and they would have to deal with what came then.
Tono, Sen, and Josh looked down the one-thousand-meter starting line and noted how closely the Gandun and Savoy contingents stood and conversed. It was no surprise really and just confirmed that the two troublesome groups were planning to work together against them. To what extent, remained to be seen. The Sundai would need to be ready for any of the outcomes discussed by the Clan’s runners over the last several nights.
The last large group was the Kil’Jaru Imperial Cadets, with fourteen members standing at rigid attention behind their acting commander. The Kil’Jaru were the local galaxy’s ruling family. Their cadets were dressed in the imperial colors of black and yellow over their dense black exoskeletons. The arachnids were not known to be confrontational with anyone, certainly not over the past several months. Like Gusti, their commander was a Cultivator well beyond the Spherical Cultivation level.
The remaining 122 contestants were all singles or in groups of twos and threes. They dotted along the starting line wherever they felt most comfortable. None were in the center, where Nagal stood alone. His towering form and angry glares dared anyone to challenge his right of center-place.
Needless to say, there were no takers.
By a series of suj tosses, the Kil’Jaru commander had won the right to start the race. Striding from the line of cadets on his four black-armored legs, he pulled a spear off his back. All attention focused on him as he spun it around with his upper two arms generating an air-piercing whine that made the pebbles on the ground vibrate a few centimeters into the air.
All eyes were on him.
“The race will now begin. Go…” He spoke the last word in a soft conversational tone, with what passed for a smile on his chitin mandibles.
Standing next to the commander, Gusti rolled his eyes at his colleague’s immaturity, then shouted, “Goooooooooo!”
After a split second of indecision, all two-hundred and seven racers cycled their Essence and took off like bats out of hell.
Tono, Sen, Josh, Meni, and Li’l Jorn—the Blacksmith Jorng’a’s equally-massive son, made up the front line of the Clan’s column. It was a fair balance of power and speed. If necessary, they would comprise the fast-hitting strike force to take on Nagal or any other obstacles to the main body of the clan’s racers. They immediately accelerated to 90 percent of Sen and Josh’s max speed as they were the fastest of the clan. Save for Meni, who was insanely fast based on the genetic benefits of her Affin heritage. All the Clan members wouldn’t be able to maintain that starting speed for the entire race, but strategically, they needed to push it up front to see what would play out from the other groups.
As expected, Nagal took off in a streak of dust and bad attitude. He was over a low rise and out of sight in a minute, dredging a winding trail through the sand and gravel.
Several minutes into the race, it became clear that the Clan was being ceded the lead by the Gandun and the Savoy. Testing out the observation, it was almost silly to watch them speed up and slow down with the pace of the clan’s column. Tono looked at his strike-team as they plodded over the uneven ground. “It’s our worst-case scenario, isn’t it?”
Li’l Jorn nodded his enormous head. “They are sitting below us like an anvil waiting for a hammer to fall.”
Tono looked at Meni. “Scout ahead. Look for the Naga.”
Meni dipped her head once and was gone almost as fast as Nagal had taken off. In less than thirty seconds, she and her dust trail were over the horizon.