Interstellar Academy - Kennedy Harkins (hot novels to read TXT) 📗

It felt like a betrayal to Tundris, but I couldn’t stop playing.

The last month had been hard, academically and otherwise. I had entertained the thought of going home, like a coward. I had wanted to attend this school more than anything, but now  that I was here, it had felt like something was missing. And  without that something I couldn’t be happy.

At first I thought it was the human girl. She had invaded my space, after all. I couldn’t be truly content rooming with a human. Now, playing in this beautiful auditorium, next to these people I’d never met before but shared an inexplicable bond with, I felt that piece fall into place.

I still needed that  human gone, of course. If I’d wanted to room with filth I could have gone to stay with my father, his new...wife, and their whelps. But I needed this too, I realized. And I needed to find a way to keep it.

I’d do anything to keep it.

 

_____

I sought Maeve out after the rehearsal, needing a little normal to center me. She was her usual bored, uninterested self, and it was like salve on the wound that playing my instrument with others had caused.

I watched her, though, in a way I was surprised she didn’t notice. I kept studying her face, her body language, desperate to reassure myself that she didn’t know where I’d been for the past couple hours. It was ridiculous, like she’d followed me or could just sense my betrayal. But knowing that didn’t help ease my stomach, and I spent most of our walk to the arena in uncomfortable silence.

“Are we sparring each other or should we find less familiar prey?” she asked at least under the gates into the battlefield.

I flinched at the sudden sound of her voice, though it was as unobtrusive as could be. “Let’s use one of the battle AIs. My aunt says that they can prove to be worthy adversaries when programed correctly.”

I walked up to the first one I saw, as a dozen or so of them lined the walls of the colosseum. They were used for both practice and security, standing on guard at all hours. They were humanoid, though the industrial ones were bulkier, built like a Tundrian. The smaller ones, used for nonphysical jobs mosts, were shaped like the stringy Animarians.

“Fight,” I commanded it, already in my ready position.

It came at me like uncontained aggression, hitting with all the force of a bullet train and with the speed of a rocket. I grinned, relishing the no holds barred fight, but before long my face was a mask of concentration and wariness. The robot had been programmed very well.

I blocked each of its rapid fire blows with my stun stick, but only just. Being a machine, it had no tells in its body or face giving away its movement before it made them. I grimaced as an unexpected blow smacked me upside the head, causing a darkened of my vision and a roaring in my ears.

I stumbled away as the AI kept coming. I could hear Mae behind me, ordering it to cease fighting. That annoyed me. Did she think I couldn’t handle one scrap pile?

The AI moved faster than I could think, catching me on the chin and knocking me flat onto my back. I groaned as I saw the solar system behind my closed lids. The next moment, though, I was moving, barely avoiding a heavy, metal foot stomping down where my head used to be.

I rolled unsteadily to my feet, keeping my hands my hands up to ward off any super human speed attacks. Mae was beside me in an instant, her body in the exact same position as mine. Mae was a worthy sparring partner in more ways than her fighting abilities; I could always count on her having my back.

She moved in towards the AI, swinging her stun stick to right where his ribs would have been on a person, on an AI it’d be one of his power packs. It was gone from that spot as soon as she started the movement, however, ramming into her side with bunch smashing force.

Mae let out a short scream as she landed on the ground, her left arm twisted in a horrible way. I was already moving before she completed the sound, slamming my stun stick into the back of the preoccupied AI’s head before he could move out of the way.

He would have fallen on Mae, but I connected my foot with its side at the last second, sending the robot rolling away from her. I ran over to where it lay, checking for signs of continued aggression and ripping out one of the major cords that connected its power source.

“Go get a medic,” I told one of the inactive AIs. I took another look at the fallen AI. “And a repair AI.”

Not that the AI would ever run again. That would be against galactic law.

I knelt by Mae, who managed to keep her face almost completely inexpressive through the pain. I didn’t have any training, but I’d had a lot of wounds, so I checked out her arm while we waited for the medic.

“Well,” she said, her voice a little thin. “That was exciting.”

“Very,” I said, still carefully inspecting her arm. “But let’s not do it again anytime soon. You only have one arm left. If you hurt that, who am I going to beat up?”

She bit her lip. “Broken?”

I nodded. “In multiple places.”

Mae let her head fall back into the dirt. “Perfect.”

I could see the AI medic coming through the doors, saving me from having to say the right thing which was not my specialty. I hesitated, then laid a hand on the shoulder that wasn’t attached to her injured arm. I didn’t know if that was right, but Mae didn’t say anything, so I kept it there.

The medic began to assess and cast Mae’s arm, and I got up and walked over to the repair AI who was taking a look at the AI that had attacked us. What would send him to the scrap yard was that he had disobeyed orders to stop. AIs weren’t technically allowed to harm living beings, either, but I wouldn’t have made a fuss if I had been hurt during a fair fight. That would’ve been my fault.

“It wouldn’t cease attacking us,” I told the repair AI. Strangely, he didn’t turn around to face me. “It’s been compromised; it’ll have to be scrapped.”

The AI turned around then, and I blinked in surprise. It looked...angry. Which was perfectly impossible, because it was a machine and couldn’t feel that emotion or any other for that matter. It was a robot.

The flicker of emotion was gone as quickly as it came, and I was half convinced I’d imagined it in the fallout of adrenaline and being injured. All the repair AI said was, “The incineration will be scheduled immediately.”

The AI recorded  a few things on its holo, and I realized I recognized it as one of the ones that guarded our apartment building. I didn’t know why is would be a guard and a repair bot, but I shrugged it off and turned my attention back to the pile of bolts that had hurt Mae and I.

It had the back of its head smashed in, obviously. But it had another mark on it, not made by me. It was a scar of sorts, a scratch that started at its eyebrow and went clear down to his chin. It was jagged, and almost look like something a sword would do on a person.

Hanging around AIs was giving me strange thoughts, so I hurried back to Mae. She looked white under her dark skin and was panting as the medic worked on her. She obviously hadn’t been given something for the pain, and I was about to say something when I remembered Mae’s aversion to drugs.

It was my fault my friend had been hurt, and that sat heavy on my chest. I couldn’t do anything for her, so I just sat there and held onto her, wishing I could smash the robots head in one more time for good measure.

Astra

 

October 15th:

I held onto Kavi as we snuck out of the pitch black apartment, wishing I could see four inches in front of my face. The lights had gone off an hour ago, and everyone was safely in bed. Kavi had been too, snoring like a sick elephant I’d seen at the zoo once. I’d been upset about the animal; I couldn’t remember why. So distraught they’d put it down. Upsetting the Alkaevs wasn’t good for business.

Kavi was barely dressed, his suit askew from our surprise departure. I didn’t think he was even fully aware we were outside the apartment. That was probably for the best.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his words slurred and his eyelids droopy. That was probably from the sleeping draught patch I’d slapped on his skin right after our conversation earlier. I’d done it for his own good, of course. He needed to have a little fun.

“To the arena,” I said, watching the ground intently, so I didn’t fall over anything.

I just had to hope Mae and Dru, who hadn’t returned from the medical center, wouldn’t walk into the apartment and notice our absence. I didn’t think they could move around the campus at night, even if Mae broke her arm, but I had taken precautions. I’d left pillows in the shapes of our bodies on our beds. Mine and Kavi’s school holo was under those pillows, making breathing and-- in Kavi’s case-- snoring noises to convince anyone that got too close.

If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was sneak out.

The doors to the arena were unlocked, but there was another obstacle in place: the AIs that guarded it. There was, strangely, only one on guard tonight, but if it saw us, we’d be reported to Earhart for sure. And then I could kiss my dreams of exploring the universe--far outside my parents’ reach if such a place existed--goodbye.

I took a deep breath, thinking how lucky we’d been up to this point; the AI that usually stood watch on our apartment must have been getting an oil change or something. We hadn’t seen heads or tails of it and snuck out easily. Now, it was time to put my talents to work.

Kavi looked at the AI. “Don’t they have motion sensors?” he spouted information we’d had to memorize in our Tech class with Professor Talib.

“Fortunately,” I said, scouring the ground for something.

“For--tun--ately....” Kavi said experimentally. “Maybe that means something else in English.”

“Nope.” I picked up a stone about the size of my hand and hurled towards the other end of the arena. “It means exactly what you think it does.”

The rock soared across the space-- right in front of the