Anyway, since my time lately has been put into the new book coming out on 5 September, I thought I would share the piece of "The Competition" I worked on, served up in bite-sized chunks!
But first, a few words about what this book is, and how it's different than the four previous books my brothers and I have produced. Dead Reckoning, Day of Reckoning, Force of Reckoning, and Final Reckoning together form a four-act play, but like every story ever, it starts in medias res, which leaves backstory to fill in as you go. In some cases, there's just too much that happened to just "fill it in." For example, early in Dead Reckoning, Admiral Cosina comments to Captain Brighton that he had forgotten that Brighton knew Major Chowdhury already, having become acquainted during "that Humboldt mess." Well, that stray comment led to us imagining and talking about what had actually happened, especially how that event led to Chowdhury's current outlook and personality, to the point that we had a whole novel's worth of story to tell. Jeff started writing it out as The Humboldt Mess, but then changed the title to Forged by Betrayal, which should be finished up and published by the end of the year.
There's another scene early in Dead Reckoning where Admiral Cosina asks the commandant of the Naval Academy to find a way to identify the top five graduates for him to assign to a project, and she can't tell any of them exactly what they're needed for. The five new ensigns become central characters to the story, but there's still that origin story that was just too big to put in a flashback scene. So that's where "The Competition," comes from. It tells the story of the senior year at the academy, and the year-long competition to find out who the best really are.
In addition to that story, Outward Bound has four more "short"* stories. "Born Explorer" is a little of Captain Brighton's experience at the academy; "I'll Rise" is a combat story about Major Chowdhury; "Lost and Alone" features Hayes and Mitchell, whose interactions are always fun to write; and "Whatever the Family Needs" reveals all the details of the secret Ensign Samuels goes to such great lengths to keep.
I hope you all enjoy the stories, and to whet your appetite, here's the first 2,500 or so words of Chapter 6 of "The Competition!"
-Craig
* Jeff says I just don't get the "short" part of short story writing. He may have a point, since my contribution to this compilation weighs in at nearly 30k words. It's just that, well, that's how much it took to tell the whole story.
Maybe I just talk too much...
Chapter 6
Warner Naval Academy, Quito Complex
Saturday, 15 November 2786
In years past, the week after course finals were completed had
always been a time to decompress; perhaps visiting home, or just getting away
with friends. That wasn't going to happen
this year.
As far as Monica Samuels could figure, the Academy brass wanted to
keep the pressure as high as possible, probably expecting this to be another
differentiator in determining whom the best actually was. To that end, they had announced two
"voluntary" competitions, one in unarmed hand-to-hand, full-contact
combat, and the other in Kendo stick, which would contribute points towards the
cadets' ongoing competition. Since
participation in the concurrent tournaments was not required, they were living
up to their obligation to allow downtime, while still knowing that anyone that
was serious about winning could not allow herself to skip any possible source
of points. Most of the cadets knew they
weren’t going to make the cut down to the top fifty, and were likely leaving
campus later this morning, but since the final grades had not yet updated the
leaderboard, there were probably over a hundred still holding out hope, Samuels
thought.
That was why, at 0615, fourteen hours after her Astrogation final
was submitted, Samuels was jogging through the early morning fog across campus
toward Harrington Field House, instead of climbing onto a maglev to join her
adoptive family at their home. She
couldn't afford not to, not if she was serious about winning, and she couldn't
remember being more serious about anything since making the decision to come to
the Academy.
The day’s events were not something Samuels was expecting to
win. While she was clearly at the
forefront of her class in all the academic areas, for many of the physical
aspects of the competition, she found herself buried in the fat part of the
bell curve. Still, her willowy build had
been an asset in the fun run, and she did have ambitions to excel in the Kendo
tournament. She didn't have the strength
to grapple effectively, so hand-to-hand had always been difficult for her, but
the speed and grace her slender frame could produce were well-suited to the
two-stick martial art.
The tournaments were not set to begin until 0800, but Samuels
wanted plenty of time to register and strategize once she had her match
schedule. The field house was enormous,
entailing multiple buildings, and she might have to sprint from one event to
the next, depending on how the timing was arranged.
Her idea was clearly not original, as she came through the main
doors and straight into a queue at least forty cadets long leading up to the
registration table. Nor had she been
accurate in her estimate of the number of cadets still holding out hope. There were easily another hundred behind her
before she made it up to the front of the line.
“Entering both tournaments?” the bored woman with Chief Petty
Officer’s stripes asked.
“Yes, Chief.”
“Step on the scale.”
Samuels complied. “Cadet M.
Samuels, 48.8,” she called to the other end of the table to a Marine corporal,
who dutifully entered the information, causing Samuels’ name to appear on the
tournament board behind the table. Hers
was the only name appearing in the “Strawweight” list on both boards.
Samuels accepted the sheet she was handed and listened to the
monotone recitation of her instructions.
“First round is a round robin by weight class. Top two advance to a double elimination round
with the neighboring class; for you that’s flyweight. Ten points for first place, 7.5 for second, 5
for third, 2.5 for fourth. No points for
an exit in the first round. The order of
events is first round hand-to-hand, first round Kendo, remaining rounds
hand-to-hand, and remaining rounds Kendo. Any questions?”
“No, Chief.”
“Next!”
Samuels collected her duffel bag from the floor where she had set
it to weigh in and hurried around the table.
Taking a last glance at the board, she saw that ‘0800’ was now displayed
next to her name, as it was for the top pair in the other thirteen classes, the
times generally increasing as her eyes swept lower.
There were few names from her personal watch list who had
registered already, but one stood out immediately. Kinsey Pinson was listed in the Flyweight
Class, which meant she might have a chance to face off against her, and perhaps
move past her in the standings. Always
assuming she could actually make it out of the first round, and then do better
than Pinson.
Samuels double-timed it down the corridor, entering the net
address she found on her sheet into her datapad as she went. The main board she had seen before was there,
but also match locations for herself, and what would eventually be round robin
standings for her weight class. She
followed the helpful directions on her pad, first for “hand-to-hand events”
(Building A), and then to her assigned match location (Green 1) on the main
floor.
She had arrived wearing her exercise uniform, so there was no need
for her to change. That wouldn't be the
case for her next round, and she would have to allow several minutes to don the
protective kendogu.
After twenty minutes of stretching and warming up, Samuels felt
ready to go, but she still had 35 minutes before her first match. She headed over to the spectator seating and
pulled out her pad. Time for more
strategizing, now that more information should be available. Another name, Brekka Gustafson, had been
added to the strawweight list, and there was a banner declaring that
registration would close in 19 minutes, 15 minutes before the first event.
Preparing a strategy to beat Gustafson was proving difficult,
since Samuels had not interacted with her much.
Firstly, Gustafson had been in a few of the same courses, but had always
been reserved, never asking questions.
The young woman wasn't in the same barracks as her, nor even in the same
battalion, so the two simply traveled in different circles. The one clear memory Samuels had of her was
during Basic Cadet Training, when her blonde hair and pale complexion, combined
with her unaccustomedness to the high altitude, had led to a bad sunburn and
heat exhaustion. They had all been out
on maneuvers in the Ilinizas Range, west of campus, and an air lorry had to be
called in to carry her out.
The best strategy Samuels could think of at the moment was to
watch the other girl warm up and see if there was any flaw on display that she
might take advantage of. It was pretty
thin, but all she could come up with.
That part of her planning out of the way, she went back to her pad
to see what new data it contained. The
answer was, not much. She could see on
the main board everyone who had registered so far, which was a much larger
number than Samuels had expected, but there were no match locations available
to her for anyone outside her weight class.
Samuels had been hoping to observe some of the matches for the
flyweights, in case she wound up having to face them in the next rounds.
Gustafson had come in while Samuels was trying to glean a little
more information. Her uniform was as
damp as Samuels' was, so clearly, she had warmed up somewhere else. So much for her brilliant planning.
Shockingly, Gustafson walked straight across the mat and sat down next to her
soon-to-be opponent.
"Samuels."
"Gustafson. How were
finals?"
"No surprises. Except
Gravimetrics. Nine tenths of the final
exam was material we'd only covered in the last two weeks."
"Who did you take it from?"
"Captain Andretti."
"Hm. I'm in Admiral
Yu's section. Guess I can thank my lucky
stars."
“While you’re at it, you can thank them that for once, your size
is going to be to your advantage.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the way the two tournaments are set up, you and I are
guaranteed at least five Competition points each, just for competing. There are only three strawweights in our
class, and Chantel’s family absolutely would not accept any excuses for her
staying here during break. That leaves
only you and me, so both of us are getting out of the first round, and by my
math, that’s at least 2.5 points per tournament. Plus, I’m about to propose a strategy to
increase our chances.”
“Whoa. Hold on a
second.” Samuels pulled up the main
board on her pad and looked it over. She
couldn’t see any changes from her last view, which meant that everyone who was
going to register had probably already done so.
As Gustafson had said, there were still only two signed up in her weight
class. The next smallest class was super
heavyweight with 14. Twenty-five were
registered as flyweight.
“There are a lot more registered than I thought would be here,”
Samuels commented. “Surely all these
cadets can’t think they have a chance to be in the top fifty and make the cut.”
Gustafson waved an arm aimlessly.
“Of course not. I know I’m
probably not in the running anymore, but that’s not the point.”
“Okay, then what is the point?”
“The point is, that when all of these cadets graduate, and go out
applying for postings, for the first time ever there is going to be an
objective ranking from top to bottom of exactly how good you are. For those of us not in the top fifty, after
this week our ranking is set.
Period. Don’t you think everyone
wants the chance to add just a few more points to their final score?”
“Huh. I hadn’t thought of
it that way, but it makes sense.”
“Well, I may not be top fifty, but I do have a functional brain.”
“That, my new friend, is quite evident. So, what is this strategy your functional
brain has come up with to increase our odds?”
“There are two aspects, so I’ll start with the one you’re most
likely to accept. There are twenty-five
possible opponents we could be facing in the next round, of which I have only
sparred with the two from my company.
The best approach would be to study them while they’re working through
the first round, but there are too many matches going on at the same time. However, with two people working together,
and sharing notes, it would be possible.”
“Deal.”
“Okay, now for the somewhat less ethical proposal.”
Samuels drew back slightly.
“Oh, it’s not all that bad."
Gustafson waved her hand negligently.
"I said less ethical, not unethical.”
Samuels waved a hand.
“This should be good, let’s hear it.”
"We've already got an advantage over the flyweights for the
next round, because our first round will consist of one match, while they'll
have 24. So, they're going to be more
worn out and beat up, no matter what."
"Makes sense."
"And since the final rounds are double-elimination with four
competitors, the seeding makes almost no difference. You have to beat either
two or three of the three competitors in order to win."
"I can see that," Samuels said, though she hadn't
thought about it that way before it was pointed out.
"And given your greater reach and speed, you're likely to
beat me in Kendo. But given my greater
strength and better leverage, I'm more likely to beat you at hand-to-hand. I say we just accept that as the likely
outcome, and give only a token match to each other. So, what do you think?"
"I think that if I ever get a command of my own, I want you
running my Tactical Department."
Samuels had to concede that the other cadet's assessment was
likely true. Gustafson was much shorter,
and had the musculature of a gymnast.
She also had considerably more curves, not that Samuels was jealous. And her calling it 'less ethical' was
probably also the right read, since it wouldn't actually violate any
rules. So, what harm could it do to play
it safe?
Samuels could tell immediately that even asking herself the
question was meant to justify it to herself, because it didn't feel right to
her. Another thought occurred to her at
almost the same time, and that one she shared.
"The commandant said that her staff would be watching more
than just the points during the competition.
I don't think it's worth the risk of incurring their displeasure,
especially when we've already got a big advantage in hand."
"Fair enough. I'll try
not to hurt you."
"Right. Just remember
that whatever happens in hand-to-hand, I'll have a chance to even the score in
Kendo."
Gustafson smiled.
"Right." She extended
her hand and Samuels took it and shook on their deal. The referees had arrived while they talked,
and it was time to begin the day's events.
Gustafson turned out to be so much better than Samuels that
Samuels was wishing she'd taken the deal after all. The first fall went less than 30 seconds, and
she barely lasted a full minute for the second.
By the third, Samuels was learning a little more about how Gustafson
liked to attack. Samuels saw the same
grip from the first fall coming and maneuvered out of it before it was
established. The two combatants
re-established positions, and Gustafson was a little more hesitant to initiate
contact now. Samuels tried a feint and
then a leg sweep that Gustafson anticipated and dodged. Her countermove came at Samuels almost faster
than she could react, but she moved just in time and caught the extended arm
and pulled, twisting on the way down so that Gustafson hit the mat underneath
Samuels. A quick strike to the sternum
without any power behind it earned Samuels her first point of the match. It turned out to be her last also, as
Gustafson scored the three remaining points needed to win in a matter of a few
minutes.
Walking back to the spectator seats, where they had left their
gear, Gustafson commented, "I told you that would be the likely outcome."
"You did, indeed, tell me so.
And honestly, I thought you were probably right. I just couldn't not try, you know?"
"I completely understand.
Shall we divide up who's evaluating which flyweights? I don't much care about most of them, but I
would like to take detailed notes on Pinson.
If our paths do cross, I want to know every possible way to render her
unconscious."
"You, my new friend, have just risen even higher in my
esteem. Perhaps we can arrange things so
that both of us will have that opportunity."
