“Get him, Hunter!” Crk yelled from the side of the ring. Hunter ducked a hook, and stepped back, anticipating Rick’s follow-up kick and lunging forward to take advantage of his opponent’s momentary opening. He colpse rick’s leg at the knee and swept his other leg out from under him.

  “The match goes to Hunter!” Instructor Immanuel said, cpping his hands. “Outstanding work, Koar!”

  Hunter helped Rick up, and the young man scowled, but accepted the hand.

  “Good fight!” Hunter said, but Rick just shook his head and murmured something under his breath. Hunter gnced at Crk and pumped his fist. Crk mirrored the gesture.

  Rick’s poor attitude wasn’t Hunter’s problem. It would be more honourable to pretend that this win wasn’t a big deal, but the shit-eating grin on Hunter’s face betrayed his effort. At the very least, he could resist the urge to look back in Rick’s direction. The poor guy was upset. There was no need to gloat.

  After Rick had taken the first point, Hunter had expected the match to go poorly. The expectation was a reflex. But he’d managed to keep his focus and his energy high. He found that over the st few days, his body was keeping up with his mind. He wasn’t as worried about not being able to nd a good hit or counter his opponent’s strength. In the st 6 days, his AR had risen — at least one point for reach day, and in the st couple of days it had been more than that.

  The only problem was that whatever skills he’d drilled over the st few months were needing to be relearned. He wasn’t used to the body he was growing into.

  Seeing the number 16 on the AR recorder felt like something out of a dream. It was over 3 times higher than what it had been when he started, and it hadn’t even been that long. But as his AR rose, his body changed. He was hungrier, thirstier, and felt like he had an excess of energy that made it necessary to avoid coffee for the first time in his life.

  Thank the heavens for decaf. Hunter used to think decaf coffee was absurd. Only when he faced a coffee-less existence did he understand its appeal. Coffee was part of his routine and seemed to have transformed into something of a psychological trigger. It was a liquid switch that would help him become a functional human being.

  “How you feeling, Hunter? Ready for the next one?” the instructor asked him. Hunter nodded. They were pying Winner Stays. This was the first time Hunter had ever won a round of sparring, and he didn’t feel the least bit tired. He was ready for whatever came next.

  “Emelia, you’re up!”

  Hunter frowned.

  He was ready for anything except for Emelia.

  “How does it feel?” she asked, after meeting him at the centre of the ring.

  “Feels good,” Hunter said. “It’s been a long time coming.”

  “Sorry for having to ruin your fun,” she said.

  “Go!” the Instructor said, announcing the start of the fight before Hunter could respond.

  Emelia unched herself at him, and she was fast. He stepped aside from the chopping kick at the st second, barely able to catch his bance before he saw the fist hit his chest.

  “Point for Emelia. Back to your positions.”

  He had had little time to process what had just happened. Had she always been that fast? He tried his best to remember the brief encounter and decided that the key problem was his ck of focus.

  Just before the instructor called for the start of the next round, Hunter quieted the parts of his mind he didn’t need. His full attention was now on Emelia.

  Based on her ck of movement, Hunter judged she would be more passive this round. She waited for Hunter to take the initiative, which he didn’t really like. He closed the distance, watching for any tension in her body, any sign that she would change her mind and attack.

  When he was within three feet, she threw out a punch, which Hunter blocked with ease, and he kept his eyes peeled for any follow up. She maintained a rigid upper body posture, preventing him from exploiting any openings. However, her lower body remained open.

  He wondered about his strength compared to hers at this moment.

  In response to her jabs, he sent out a few testing jabs of his own. He aimed a kick at her thigh, which she avoided, stepping in way too close for comfort. Hunter braced himself for her to sweep him off his feet and sent out a desperate undercut towards her stomach.

  It hit, and lucky for him, it hit at an angle that the instructor could see.

  “Point for Hunter! You’re getting sloppy, Emelia!”

  Emelia growled in frustration.

  “I would have had you,” she said, as she went back to her starting position. What could Hunter say? All he could do was take the minor victory.

  Could he do it again?

  The prospect of winning his second round in a row, and against Emelia, wasn’t just a slim possibility anymore.

  He would just have to be smarter than her, and that meant one of two things. Either beating her at her own game, or refusing to py the game altogether.

  “Go!”

  They both approached each other. Her loss had been enough of an excuse for her to take this round a bit more seriously. He saw a focus that wasn’t there before and felt that his chances of winning were decreasing by the second.

  Hunter mirrored her starting strategy. He kicked. She blocked it, preventing a follow-up attack by stepping just out of his range.

  He did the smart thing and waited to see how she responded. She spun and threw out a back-kick, somehow unching herself towards him fast enough that the kick took him by surprise, even if he saw the wind up. He backpedaled, but knew it was a mistake because he’d just given her an opportunity to build momentum. So he moved forward again, hoping to take her by surprise and score another undercut to her stomach. But she had spun away to his side, and was reaching for his arm. He knew what that meant, having a sudden fshback to their previous fight. Hunter stepped back, pulling his arm as fast as he could. She grinned when she saw he knew what she was up to.

  Despite her casual attitude, her intensity increased a notch. She swept her foot out, and Hunter expected a kick, but then she unched herself off that foot, spinning in the air with her body nearly horizontal to the ground. Hunter’s mesmerization sted only a second; he had never witnessed such a move before, yet it felt as if Aera’s voice commanded him to focus.

  He realized he was at the edge of the ring. Her earlier kick had made him wary of approaching her, and he’d been moving backwards ever since. Then he stumbled.

  Ice gripped his gut for a moment. He scrambled to remain banced, to keep himself upright.

  He watched in what felt like slow-motion as Emelia nded, and seeing that he’d repositioned, pivoted on the foot she’d nded on and kicked towards him with the other. Had he been an inch further from her, it wouldn’t have hit.

  As, the impact hit with enough force to do the work gravity struggled with, and it knocked Hunter onto his back.

  “The match goes to Emelia! Remember, this isn’t a gymnastics css; I don’t run those, and they’re held tomorrow. Impressive, though,” the Inspector said while inspecting a nail. His voice was utterly ft.

  He looked up at Hunter.

  “Nice try, kid. Next up is Johnny!”

  “Good fight,” Emelia called as she went to her starting position and Hunter left. He suddenly felt a bit like he imagined Rick had, but he decided not to be a poor sport about the loss. After all, he had won a fight today, and scored a point on her.

  “Good fight,” he replied.

  “No one expected her to go ninja mode on you. Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Crk said as Hunter sat down beside him, keeping his voice low so that the inspector wouldn’t call him out for disrupting the match.

  Hunter shrugged.

  “I didn’t know that people could even do that. It was all a blur.”

  Emelia surprised him with something he’d never seen before, and his ck of preparation caused him to lose. Next time, he’d have a way to respond. He’d talk to Aera about it when he had a chance. They wouldn’t have martial arts training tonight, but he could bring it up during their session tomorrow.

  “Listen, Hunter. You’ve been doing great so far,” Crk said, his tone getting deeper.

  “Oh, thanks man,” Hunter said, not expecting the sudden praise.

  “Seriously, I’ve noticed the difference in you since you’ve started. I don’t think anyone else has been pushing themselves as hard as you have. I think it’s admirable, and that’s what I look for in the people I want to spend my time around.”

  Hunter just smiled and patted Crk on the shoulder.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” Hunter said, uncertain about how he was supposed to act when he was being complimented. It seemed like a gring blind spot in his social repertoire. Did people write books on social etiquette? Maybe he could find some help at the library.

  Crk seemed to pick up on Hunter’s awkwardness and shook his head with a smile.

  “Look, I’m telling you this because me and a few others who share a simir outlook on life are gonna be hanging out this evening. I think you’d get along with them. There might be an opportunity for you to make some great connections. You interested?”

  Hunter’s first instinct was to say no, but he hesitated.

  Who did he want to be? He didn’t need to be afraid of people anymore. He’d just won his first fight — sure it was under controlled conditions, but so what?

  Crk had said that the people at the gathering would be people who admired hard work — maybe they were all devoted to some sort of excellence.

  It could be fun.

  And it could be incredibly awkward, but should he deny himself the opportunity to find out for himself?

  “Sure,” he said, still feeling like he was going a bit too far out of his comfort zone than he wanted to be. “I’ll be there. Just let me know when and where. But if it’s past 7pm, I won’t be able to make it.”

  Cancelling would make Aera angry. She seemed to find a lot of value in Hunter’s advice regarding her budding interest in constructs and etherium. Although he could tell her heart wasn’t really in it. Her interest seemed to be more in the realm of brute-forcing her way into being the best. He’d spoken his mind on the matter, and she was still just as devoted as ever to wasting her time, but that wasn’t any of his business. His end of the deal was to show up and answer questions.

  “No problem, we typically get together around 4:30 or 5. Give me your number after css and I’ll let you know.”

  Hunter agreed. Once css was over, he gave his number to Crk and went home. On his way, he realized he had forgotten to give Mrs. Verilion a call to tell her about trying to set up a meeting between Trey and Professor Jackson. As soon as he got home, he dialled her number.

  “Hello, Hunter! How are things at Barnum?” Mrs. Verilion asked as soon as she picked up.

  “How did you know it was me?” Hunter asked, feeling like it was going to be a day of surprises. His AR reached 16; he won a fight, received an invitation to a meeting with like-minded individuals, and now there were magical ways to identify callers?

  “New tech that Oberon is unching next month. A much smaller phone with a tiny dispy that can show pre-programmed numbers and names you’ve attached to them. Neat, huh? It’s small enough to fit in your pocket,” she said, and Hunter wondered if she’d had a career in sales at some point.

  “Do I get one of those?” he asked.

  “You’ll get one mailed to you a few days before they hit stores.”

  “Is it etherium based?” He asked, wondering if he’d get to study some new network schematics. Oberon never officially grabbed a piece of his father’s wireless etherium network that was built around the world, but that didn’t mean Oberon couldn’t make their own.

  “Heavens, no. Much more mundane, but it’s still impressive. I was skeptical at first, but then they showed me the final product and how it flips open and closed, and I was hooked.”

  Hunter felt like he needed to get this brand new, top of the line technology as soon as possible. He’d never cared much about studying electronics, but that didn’t mean he thought that any tech outside of constructs were dull.

  “The reason I called was because I wanted to know if Trey had ever heard of a man named Dr. Arbutus Jackson?” Hunter asked. He was holding the professor’s card in his hands, which he’d snagged after his st css with the man.

  “Boot-is.”

  “Excuse me?” Hunter asked, wondering if she’d been talking to someone else.

  “The pronunciation is Ar-boot-is, and yes, Mr. Oberon knows the man well. In fact, he’s become the majority sponsor of the professor’s work, especially after he finished his most recent paper. I’ve heard some whispers about bringing him into the company on a full-time basis, but you didn’t hear that from me,” she said. Hunter became intrigued.

  “What do you mean? What’s Oberon Enterprise’s interest in ancient history?”

  “You’ll have to ask Trey about that yourself, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Verilion said. “He doesn’t keep me in the loop with certain things.”

  Hunter doubted that.

  “I’m curious, how many people are walking around with the newest generation of mobile phones a month in advance?” he asked.

  “It’s been great to hear from you, Hunter, but I’m afraid I’m quite busy today. Make some time to give Mr. Oberon a call. He loves to hear from you both. Have a great day,” she said, hanging up the phone.

  “Thought so,” Hunter said to no one in particur. The mystery of the Asutnahem got deeper and deeper. The professor had said that the Asutnahem knew about the edge of the world, and he wondered if that’s what his st paper had been about.

  What was Trey’s interest in that? Had they found something that confirmed the professor’s theory? Was it a profitable discovery, or something that Trey would invest in just to scratch an itch?

  Hunter was itching to find out too, but he knew that if there was anyone more busy than Mrs. Verilion, it was Trey Oberon. He’d call him ter that night to find out what was going on.