《Defending Mars》Captives of a Red Planet – 19 – Funtime is over

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This fight was actually the first bit of fun that Tory could remember having in a long time, certainly since she’d stepped onto that rocket back on Earth. Martians just weren’t that fast in any way, and it didn’t look like Yvengie had much training on how to fight anyone.

He tried to punch her, this time it was kind of a old-style boxing move, a right hook.

Tory blocked the punch with ease. She might be short for her age, even on Earth, but that had meant she had to get used to bullies and had learned how to fight. Oh, yeah, that was certainly another thing that scared her parents. But New Angels was a tough place, and she needed to be tough there as much as she needed to be smart.

Now it was time to teach the ogre a lesson if his nana back on the other side of the room wasn’t going to do it. Tory flattened her right palm and pushed him hard in the chest. It wasn’t a move he had at all expected and it knocked Yvengie right back. Then she stepped forward and did it again while ducking his swings with ease.

“Stoyat’!” he yelled and tried another punch, accurate enough she needed to block. Tory smiled, feeling a bit of adrenalin, an impulse to finally hit back.

The Martian boy hadn’t hit her once, and his friends weren’t really trying to help out at all either. Did any of them like the big bully? In her experience, probably not.

She held up her fists, ready to play his game if that was what he really wanted.

“Come on,” she told him. “Can’t you hit me? At all?”

Triumph turned to fear as she could feel her breath suddenly quicken and knew what that meant. She was having too much fun. The rush of adrenaline was too much. Damn the crap air on this planet.

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Tory backed up, pulled out her injector. Yvengi offered an ugly grin and stepped towards her as she pressed the pen into her arm and held it for an entire injection, praying that the rush of oxygen into her blood would work and he wouldn’t get the chance to start wailing on her while she was trying to breathe.

He got one swing that knocked her to the floor. Tory’s injector went flying, but at least the medicine was in her system no, and she could feel her lungs stop fighting.

“That is enough!” the teacher yelled in heavily accented English. “vospr zakonchilas’. Vernut’sya k mestam.”

She waved the gathering crowd of teens back and frowned at Tory and Yvengi. Tory smirked up at the boy, he glowered back. For a moment she hoped he’d ignore the order, and maybe she’d get a chance to try and knock his feet out from under him, but he finally backed down and returned to his group.

“You, outsider back to your chair,” the woman ordered, pointing. “Funtime is over.”

Her breathing had steadied. With a sigh, Tory got to her knees, retrieved her injector, and returned to her own table, plunked herself down with her archeological dig.

A few minutes of boredom later, she heard the hatch open, looked up, and saw it was Gurminder. He didn’t look happy. He turned away and talked to the teacher. Then he headed over to her. Tory stood back up. Was she going home? Or at least one home or another? Or was he going to hit her?

“Are you all right?” he asked in a concerned tone, that was the exact opposite of the expression he had on his face. “She said there was a fight.”

Oh. He does care.

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“I’m fine,” she told him airily. “The bully couldn’t even touch me. I’m like stronger and faster than anyone here. You Martians need some better training.”

He didn’t look relieved at her response. Behind him, two big Martians with their big guns stepped into the room. Tory took one look and knew things had suddenly taken a bad turn. She turned her accusing glance at Gurminder, who had screwed up again, regardless of how much he might seem to care.

“They’re taking you out of here,” he told her, “Before anybody gets hurt, especially you. You’re too valuable to get your head cracked in a fight with dumbass school kids.”

“What do you mean too valuable?” Tory asked. “What’s going on?”

He shook his head and gave her an apologetic look.

“You should’ve told me who your parents were, Tory,” he said, almost angry at her for some reason. “If you had I would have never ever have brought you here.”

The new pair of guards came to take her away. One grabbed her arm hard enough to make her yelp, but she didn’t fight back. They weren’t Yvengies to be just pushed down with a palm

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