Chapter 31

"You seem to always go low when attacking. It establishes an easy to read pattern. Switch it up."

"No No No! Stop fighting like a human. You're piloting an armor. It's not a human body. It can move in ways a human body can't."

"Yes! Like that. The armor's joints have more mobility than human joints do."

"Stop relying on your thrusters so much! Once they burn out you're fucked. Just tap them a bit. There is no need to burn them so hard!"

"Don't focus on landing a hit so much that you lose focus on the bigger picture. A failed attack is less to worry about than taking an attack while being so zoned in on your own attack. Your armor is fast and flexible, use that to your advantage. Focus on using your mobility to draw your enemy into a failed attack then counter."

"Why does each and every one of your attacks have to be a killing blow? Stop that! Attacking an armor's joints and sensors is devastating to an enemy. If it can't move or can't see, an armor is just a heap of metal."

"Bah! If you hold the trigger down like that out in the wilderness you will be out of ammunition before you know it! Your armor is a light assault armor. LIGHT assault armor. Are you going to carry a few thousand rounds with you wherever you go? I think not! You can’t expect an ammo resupply out there. Conservation is key to survival."

"Don't run your shields at 100 percent at all times! You don't need a big ass bubble of protection around your armor like that. Shrink them down to cover about 3 feet from your outer shell. That's more than enough and actually improves the strength of the shields since they can focus on pouring more energy into less area."

"Are you even watching your energy reserves? If you run them dry the armor will have to power everything with nothing more than the power output of the core drive. Don't let them fall below 50 percent in a fight if you can avoid it. It's a pool of energy that the core drive is constantly filling. The core output is mostly constant but the reserves allow you to access more power at once. That doesn't mean you dip into it like a child in a candy store!"

After forwarding the recording of the fight with Jamal to Alice, parking the Calipso in the hanger, refueling it, and giving Toby the task of overseeing repairs, I went to my accommodations and slept like a dead man. Despite the internal scans my implant did telling me my body was only slightly bruised internally, I felt like a beaten sack of shit. A good night's sleep and my body's heightened healing abilities did wonders by morning, but there would be no real reprieve for me in the days to come.

What followed was 5 days of hell-like like training from Jamal. The man would beat the crap out of me in sparring, before forcing me to connect to the simulator and run target practice as well as a smattering of different scenarios. Most of the scenarios were designed by him and seemed made for the express purpose of being nearly impossible to win.

After simulations, Jamal would force me out of the Calipso to run physical training or worse, spar with him hand to hand. I thought the modification to my body would allow me to have an advantage here, but I was wrong. The man seemed to know every move I was about to make before I made it.

"Hah, I don't know how many pharmaceutical cores you consumed to get that tough body and fast reflexes you have, but your style is a mess."

"Come on, follow through with the punch. Stop opening yourself up for a counter every time you throw out a punch!"

"Dear god! Are your feet growing roots!?? MOVE THEM! GOD DAMN you're like a tree stump!"

"Stop that! It's fine in a fistfight, but habits in normal fighting tend to be dragged into our style when fighting as an armor pilot. Here like this. No no no! LIKE THIS!"

The last one was said a mere second before the man knocked me on my ass gasping for air.

“Do you even know what kicking is?!! You have 4 limbs you know!”

The man didn't know what rest was and kept at me like a tick on a dog's asshole. Even when I wasn't being "trained", something that felt more like being abused and insulted than taught at times, he sent me back to read book after book or watch video after video on piloting or mechanical jargon on armor.

"If you don't understand the ins and outs of armor, you are nothing more than a bone head who hits things with a big steel fist. I have no idea how many times some tiny little fact of mechanics or mathematics has saved my life. A good pilot is as much an egg head as a warrior. We fight with our minds first and our armor second. Well, maybe in our case you SHOULD just bank on hitting things hard."

He always seemed to have some quip or wise sounding words to back up his insults and there was nothing I could do but nod my head in resignation and go along with his hellish training. I was a rat. My days before leaving on our doomed scavenger job were just a little different than this. I was having trouble adjusting.

"OH boo fricking hoo. Waaaahhhh. The experienced pilot who is taking time out of his schedule to train me is mean as hell. Do you need a tissue?"

When I complained to Alice in a moment of pure exhaustion after 10 hours of insane level training one night, she seemed pissed that I would complain at all.

"Look, Caleb. You have a golden opportunity to train with what seems to be an extremely experienced pilot looking over your shoulder. From what I can tell he is doing it out of the kindness of his heart."

I huffed while covering my drooping and exhausted eyes while listening to another person rip me a new asshole. It's not like I was crying. All I said was Jamal could probably insult me less.

"Caleb, not everyone has the opportunities you do."

Noticing her tone shift, I looked up towards the tablet I had propped against the wall on the bed and watched the live stream video of Alice's face as she continued.

"Do you know what I would do to get a chance like this? In fact, there isn't much I wouldn't do. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. I've watched the footage you have sent me of all your spars with him. He is top-notch. Take in his every word as if it were gospel. It will probably save your life a hundred times over."

Letting my heavy head fall back onto my comfortable and soft bed I spoke back in an aggrieved tone.

"Jesus Christ, Alice. You think I don't know that? All I said was he could be a little more respectful while teaching me. AND YOU! Can't I complain to the one friend I have in this whole damn city without getting a metaphorical boot up my ass?"

Alice laughed unsympathetically.

"Nope! Complainers get boots up their asses. You should be happy. If you had ever seen my mom train her new recruits, you would feel lucky as hell and think of Jamal as a gentleman."

"Bullshit."

"No, seriously! Do you know what my mom calls her recruits? WHALE SHIT!"

While Alice giggled, I looked to the screen again and raised my eyebrows quizzically.

"Whale shit? What the hell does that even mean?"

Alice had a big grin on her face as she explained.

"You see, in the ocean, you have all kinds of life forms. Different types of core beasts, whales, sharks, big fish, little fish, plants, coral. Well, bellow all of that you have the sea bed. And what is the sea bed mostly made up of? Shit! I don't know why she chose whale shit of all things, but the idea is a new recruit is the lowest of the low. Not even a life form. Hence, whale shit."

I grunted out a laugh and somehow her explanation made me smile.

"How colorful."

"Hahaha. I'm not the one who came up with it."

After our laughter had died down and we settled into a lull in the conversation, Alice spoke again.

"Forward me the data from today and all of the reading materials you were ordered to read by your hard-ass drill sergeant. His literature choices are always illuminating."

Alice had been reading basically everything I had been in the last few days. She agreed wholeheartedly with Jamal's reading assignment and made sure to keep up with my homework assignments. We usually talked at length about what we had read and compared notes at the end of every day. She even ran many of the same scenarios Jamal had programmed into my simulator despite the fact that my new training regimen left her little time to use the Calipso's simulator lately. I wondered what Jamal would think if he knew that, in a way, he wasn't only training me.

I sent along the data on our spars and training for today.

"Well, it's getting late. I'll let you go now. I wouldn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep. Try not to cry into your pillow."

I barked a laugh.

"You bitch."

"Hahaha. Whale shit."

I propped myself up on one arm and looked at the screen with a smile.

"You never stop do you?"

Her grin told me she wouldn't be stopping any time soon. Poking fun at me was simply too enjoyable for her.

Rolling my eyes at her I reached out towards the disconnect button on my tablet.

"Goodnight Alice."

Her smile was less playful and more gentle as she answered back.

"Goodnight, Caleb."

As the screen went black I rolled onto my back again and let myself feel every bit of the warmth and comfort offered by the big bed under me. It wasn't truly big, but it was massive in comparison to any bed I had ever slept on before. Its sheets and blanket were pristine and smelled great.

Despite my little complaints about training and the mistakes I had made since coming to Anarchy City, the last few weeks had been the happiest I had ever known. A warm bed, good food, money in my pocket. I was now an armor pilot. The only thing missing was my mother. Hopefully, that would soon fall into place as well.

I wondered how my mother would react to the changes in lifestyle. I pictured her in a clean and colorful dress with new shoes and perfectly groomed hair. I imagined her without the always gaunt look malnutrition gave almost every resident of Grey Rock City's outer circle. I could almost picture the look on her face as I sat her down to a meal at a fancy restaurant that served the type of food she had probably never once thought she would consume in her lifetime. I couldn't wait to show her the city.

As I drifted into sleep I decided to prepare a gift for her. A simple gold bracelet or necklace would do nicely.

Yeah, life was good.