The AUX sit under an olive tree in a yard behind Kyble’s house. Neen rests his back against the ancient trunk and Franc has her back to Neen. Haze is lost in thought, and Rachel is judging distances in her head, flicking her gaze between distant roofs as she mutters numbers. As for Franc, she picks her nails with a throwing knife.
Franc is the only normal one among them.
All turn to watch as I shut Kyble’s door and stamp across the yard to where they sit in sullen silence. We are the Aux, we don’t behave like this.
‘All right,’ I demand. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’
They look at one another.
‘Neen,’ I say.
He hesitates. So I yank him to his feet. Not difficult; I just twist my fingers in his collar and lift. The body of a farm boy, all whipcord thin, but no real weight.
He is fast, though.
Seems I’ve swapped one fight for another. That’s fine, because this is a fight that needs to happen. The moment I block his punch, he punches again. The blow comes close, but not close enough. A punch like that can rupture your throat.
Knocking him down with a backhand, I move forward to stamp his gut. This time Neen gets lucky and his heel clips my thigh. Rachel moans, although that might be at the grin which suddenly brightens my face.
Right on cue, Colonel Vijay appears.
‘Stop.’ He glares at us, sweeping his gaze from where I stand to Neen lying in the dirt. ‘This is . . .’ The colonel hesitates. I think he’s overdoing it, but it’s his idea and it’s a good one.
‘Oh,’ he says. ‘I see. A competition match.’
Seniority is abandoned for competition matches. You approach the ring a colonel or a trooper and take back that rank on leaving. But in the ring . . . It’s bullshit, obviously. No one but an idiot cripples someone five ranks above. Life is too short for that kind of stupidity.
However, the precedent is there.
In the army, precedent is everything. It means you can do what you want, and insist someone else did it first. The colonel and I have a deal. He forgets what I said in the room upstairs and I don’t kill Neen, unless necessary. As he points out, good sergeants are hard to find.
‘Almost as hard as good COs,’ I tell him.
He laughs. Then realizes I mean it.
Sitting himself against the tree, Colonel Vijay says, ‘What rules?’
‘No rules,’ says Neen.
‘You OK with that?’ His question is for me.
‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Never been big on rules myself.’ Neen’s sneer nearly costs him his life. He is so busy looking mean he forgets to watch me. As my arm flicks out, my fingers reach for his throat. All I need is my thumb and finger around his larynx and this match is over. It’s a nasty way to die, but a good way to kill.
At the last moment, Neen twists away.
So I reach forward and he backs away. And suddenly we have Kyble watching, as if she knew this was going to happen. Perhaps she did. Although you probably don’t need precog to know that this was coming to the boil.
Neen and I are both angry. We’re both angry about the same thing. I think Neen should have kept Shil at the gate. He thinks I shouldn’t have made Shil think that running back was expected.
Same incident, different readings.
Happens all the time. There will be six versions of this fight. Unless we give them an official one. ‘Begin,’ says Colonel Vijay.
Actually, he only says the first letter. Because my kick lifts Neen off the ground so fast that Colonel Vijay forgets to finish his order.
‘Stay down,’ Haze tells Neen.
When I step forward to stamp on Neen’s knee, the colonel glares at me. Seems we’re fighting this by rules after all, just unspoken ones. Always hated those worst of all. Your own unspoken rules, that’s different. They’re what you want them to be.
Something has changed in Neen’s eyes when he crawls to his feet. I hope the colonel thinks that’s good. No one but a fool expects an enemy to go easy on them. And my enemy is what Neen is.
You fight me that’s what you become.
If he could kill me, he would. Only he can’t. So he is going to go down trying.
I break his nose. He shuts one of my eyes. I’m tired and beginning to hurt from the effort of not killing Neen. That, I could do quickly. Keeping him alive and at arm’s length is a lot harder.
And yeah, I know, Good and sergeant. Two words to sit uneasily in the mouth of anyone who has ever been in the Legion. But he is a good sergeant, and in the last few seconds, he got better. When he comes in swinging, I take the blows. And slam my head into his face. ‘Stay down,’ yells Haze. Rachel nods at his shout.
Colonel Vijay is smiling, the smile of a man watching his plan come together. I’m turning Jaxx’s son into a proper officer, and a bit of me wonders if that is really a good idea.
Then the colonel’s smile is gone. Because Neen’s rolling sideways to grab a dagger from the dirt. When he comes off the floor it’s fast, with the dagger in his hand jabbing faster. We’re abandoning match rules, here.
‘Sergeant,’ shouts Colonel Vijay.
Neen hesitates. It’s enough.
Grabbing his wrist, I squeeze. Bones stress and the fury goes out of his eyes. Pain does that for you. Or so I’m told.
‘Neen,’ says Colonel Vijay. ‘Drop that knife.’
I can see Neen wondering what is going to happen next. All that happens is that I let go of his wrist and step back as the colonel steps forward.
‘You two,’ Colonel Vijay says to Haze and Rachel. ‘Hold him.’
They look at each other and something passes between them. Fear or resignation, who knows . . . ? It passes quickly. Neen is a mess. His nose is almost flat to his face. One tooth is missing. A rip at the side of his mouth gives him a grin at odds with the emptiness in his eyes.
‘Hold him tighter,’ insists the colonel.
So they do. Reaching forward, Colonel Vijay grasps Neen’s nose and wrenches it back into shape. ‘You carrying thread?’ he asks Franc.
When she nods, he smiles. ‘Sew it at the bridge,’ he tells her. Maybe Horse Hito taught him battlefield medicine as well.