The first practice tournament on Earth felt like a carnival. Thousands of spectators descended on the metal-sheathed Shetland Isles for the event, some coming in shuttles or mariners, others crossing the slender silver needle of the ram-bridge that linked the islands to the mainland. A neutral venue, it would play host to the first pre-season clash between the four Earth-based Gauntlet academies – Battlecast, Atlantic, Everest and Zulu Forge – and their solitary lunar neighbour: Cobalt Storm.
To Codi this preliminary event seemed to have just as much media mayhem surrounding it as the actual tournament itself. Watching through the window of the Battlecast shuttle as it descended, she could see the swarms of people waving flags of their chosen academy, and the blue and cyan livery of Battlecast was clearly in evidence.
The pre-tournament festivities were well underway as well. She could see huge braziers, each one a dozen feet high, gushing heat out into the frigid northern air from the glowing umbrellas of orange at their apex. Despite the grey sky and weak sunlight the temperatures down below were likely to be fairly comfortable, and she spotted sparks and flashes of light shows glittering across the island's face.
And in the middle of it all sat the enormous bulk of the arena itself. It paled in comparison to the actual Gauntlet venue, but it still dwarfed the surrounding structures. Two bulbous interlocked domes squatted upon the metallic landscape, their exteriors illuminated with huge colourful advertisements and massive academy emblems that moved back and forth like spotlights.
"You guys don't screw around with your practice, do you?" Codi muttered, leaning back from the window and settling into her seat as the shuttle began its final descent to the arena landing pad.
"Earth's the home of the Gauntlet," Chris replied, shrugging. "It's not like where you grew up. Here, one tournament a year isn't enough for everyone. They want to follow it all year round, every week, every day."
"Sounds unhealthy."
"Maybe, but it's the only reason we can do what we do." He nodded to the pandemonium on the ground below them. "It's our job to keep them entertained."
The remark set a small kernel of unease smouldering in Codi's gut. She didn't compete in the Gauntlet to be some kind of performing monkey – the spectators were there for her, not the other way around. That being said, she was still adjusting to the almost religious fervour that seemed to surround the competition on Earth. Maybe it was different, living on the planet that could claim to be the home of the Gauntlet.
She didn't get to dwell on it any longer. The bright lights fell away from the windows as the shuttle entered the hanger bay, surrounding them with gleaming metal walls. There was a moment of quiet filled only by the hum of the engines until the vehicle hit the ground with a small jolt.
"Show time," Gareth commented from the opposite row of seats, unbuckling his harness and standing up.
The engine died and as she stood to collect her kit bag Codi could hear a kind of dull roaring coming from outside the shuttle. She looked at Gareth questioningly.
He smirked. "You'll see."
Codi followed him as the shuttle's cargo of twenty Battlecast recruits trooped down the boarding ramp and out into the hanger itself. In their allocated bay the other shuttles from the academy had already touched down, disgorging their own cadres of eager, violent teenagers. Codi realised somewhat apprehensively that she formed part of the phalanx of fighters leading the way; the best the academy had to offer by all accounts. They walked five abreast: herself, Chris, Ripple, Gareth and another boy, Cardle North, who'd taken part in their tackle-ball game.
Directly behind them came the ranks of other veteran fighters – second or third year competitors – and after them walked the most highly regarded rookies. She glanced over her shoulder, hunting through the sea of blue and cyan until she caught a glimpse of Leela's face a couple of ranks from the back of the group.
Waiting at a pair of double doors stood the Battlecast instructors, Bronagh Llewellyn among them. She radiated feral energy and pride, clad in a long aquamarine coat streaked with cyan, her flame-coloured hair tied tightly back into a narrow streak of fire that reached down between her shoulder blades. A vulpine smile slid across her face.
"Alright, everyone," she said simply. "Follow me!"
Then the instructors formed into two ranks of five behind her, and the doors opened.
The noise hit Codi like a mud slide and she winced as the torrent of shrieks and whoops burst over them. Then it was the deluge of light that came next making her squint as she kept in step with the others. They marched forward down a cordoned path and down either side of it a seething mass of spectators and news reporters undulated and roared like a single living organism.
"Comet dust..." she murmured. "Is it always like this?"
"Pretty much," Chris answered as they marched into the chaos. "You'll get used to it."
Codi wasn't so sure. Each glance left and right revealed a new kaleidoscope of braying individuals; men, women, young, old, rugged, smooth – it was like looking at a snapshot of an entire population. Scattered through the crowds were the bubbles of press, where cameras swung, tracking them like turrets and broadcasting every step to the rest of the planet.
She got an even more surprising reality check when she saw that some of the banners and signs being waved amongst the crowd featured her by name. There were even pictures – treating her to the unnerving prospect of having even her own eyes watching her march into the arena.
Tearing her gaze from the unsettling media scrum that raged on all sides, she instead focused on something that she could quantify: her opposition. They were arranged in the same rigid ranks as the Battlecast hopefuls; phalanxes of young men and women in brash academy colours.
The first group she recognised came from the Atlantic Academy, an establishment that rivalled theirs in size and resources but always seemed to be striding in Battlecast's shadow. Their tracksuits shone a deep aquamarine blue decorated along the shoulders by a wave-shaped blaze of white and gold. Glances were traded between groups and she could see smiles and scowls in equal measure as the Battlecast veterans acknowledged their long-time rivals. She didn't recognise most of them, except for the boy who led their fighting contingent.
Dustin Morto loomed like a blue mountain, standing easily a head taller than anyone around him. If Battlecast had any serious rivals for the title, he was certainly one of them. He ended up fourth place last time around, narrowly edged out of the final podium spot by Chris O'Leary. With some trepidation Codi remembered their brief encounter in last year's contest; she'd come off the worst in that exchange.
But that was a long time ago.
Her gaze moved on to the next divisions of the local fighters, trooping in through different shuttle entrances in the docking bay. Everest Academy's fighters shone like emeralds in their royal green livery – a group that while not setting the competition alight, held a steadfast reputation for producing skilled and reliable fighters. She knew that more than one person currently marching along with her had started their days at Everest. Next came the icy-blue contenders from Cobalt Storm, the one academy based on Luna, the fighters who'd travelled the furthest to take part in these preliminary rounds.
But Codi was still hunting for the last academy she knew would be attending. It took a bit of searching, but amongst the sea of faces in the crowd she spotted the black and white banners of one particular cadre of supporters crammed down near a smaller doorway, and from within it the last academy's Gauntlet recruits came marching, to thunderous applause.
The black and white clad force of competitors was barely a quarter the size of any other, but they still walked with heads held high, proud to be representing their academy on such a stage. Just the sight of the logo – a white hammer striking an anvil – sent a ripple of excitement through Codi's veins, and it wasn't long before her sharp eyes picked out a familiar face from the line of coaching staff that led the competitors from Zulu Forge onwards.
When her eyes found him, he was already looking back at her. Her heart slammed inside her chest when she found herself staring into the twinkling, mischievous brown eyes of Kye Recktor. He hadn't changed – still sporting a messy arrangement of dark hair and clean, boyish features. He limped ever so slightly – the ordinary bystander probably didn't even notice it – but Codi saw it, and knew where it came from. It was the one reminder left of his last Gauntlet campaign, the one that forced him from the arena and into a coaching position.
He only kept his eyes on her for a moment, but that was enough for her to see the spark of recognition and the knowing smile before he turned his gaze forward again. Codi did the same, taking a deep, shuddering breath as she felt all the pressure in the world simply melt away. She hadn't even spoken to him but already his presence left her feeling lighter than she had in her entire time at Battlecast Academy.
The various groups filed into line down a central pathway leading into the arena itself. Battlecast took the lead, followed by the others in descending order of size. They marched through an enormous set of double doors and Codi felt a measure of relief as the cheering of the crowds faded as they cleared they main foyer. She exhaled, bringing her heart rate back down to normal, and doing her best not to think about the boy she knew was following on at the back of the group.
They spilled into a huge open space: the arena foyer that held a battalion screens on its far wall. More cameras waited but the rank and file of the population had been kept out this part of the build up. A pincer of media men and woman stretched out to enclose them, and right at its centre on a raised platform was a man standing at a lectern.
More lights flashed as the Battlecast ranks mashed together into a single ungainly mass as they came to a halt inside the foyer. The recruits from Atlantic and Cobalt Storm flooded to the right; Everest and Zulu Forge the left. It took some time for the coaches to sort out the scrum and Codi found herself wedged in on either side by her companions.
Squaring her shoulders as the hubbub died down, she turned her attention to the man at the lectern. His hair was greying, but not all the way there yet, and no doubt some of the best anti-aging treatments had been applied to stave off the march of time. His small mouth was ringed by a black goatee and an ochre gaze scanned the assembled mass of colour.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice from some unseen speaker system burst out. "The First Minister of the Northern Islands Conglomerate, Mr. Isaac Graw."
After being prompted by some icy looks from the instructors the Gauntlet recruits clapped politely. Isaac Graw himself smiled, let the applause continue for a moment or two and then raised his hands for quiet. When he spoke he unleashed an accent heavy with the twang of Earth's northern regions and Codi found herself concentrating just to make out the words.
"Guid evening, mah young friends," he declared with surprising volume. "First, may Ah declare whit a pleasure it is for us tae host ye all on our little isle. Now, Ah'm no' one faer long speeches – Ah reckon ye're no' interested in listenin' tae me talk in ony case. So, Ah shall cut tae the chase." He made an infuriating pause for effect, before continuing in a thunderous voice: "I bid ye welcome tae the first official tournament of this year's Gauntlet season!"
And all discipline fled from the room.
Cheers exploded from the assembled fighters, and Codi was as loud as anyone else, feeling euphoria in her veins that she hadn't felt since the last time she stepped into a Gauntlet arena. This was home.
***
It wasn't difficult to slip away from her coaches and team-mates alike in the rabbit warren of the arena. As long as she was back by the ten o'clock curfew, Codi had nothing to worry about, and there was someone she needed to see.
The fighters had been billeted inside huge prefabricated structure blocks that had been bolted on to the outsides of the arena. Despite their temporary nature, these prefabricated buildings held all the comforts of home, with private rooms, communal dining areas, comfortable heating and personal bathroom and shower facilities. Codi hadn't wasted any time settling in, but once she'd dumped her kit bag she made a stealthy exit from the Battlecast wing of billets.
With a whole day still to go until the fighting got underway she had no qualms about slipping off. Training would start tomorrow and she had it on good authority that the instructors would not be making any demands of their young charges on the first night. She also had a sneaking suspicion as to where her quarry might be and with that in mind she made her way to the communal mess area.
Weaving around a steady trickle of other recruits, Codi kept her head down until she reached the entrance of the room. It was a Spartan affair, with simple rows of white tables arranged in a gridiron pattern from left to right. On the far wall she could see a long row of automated food dispensers and she wrinkled her nose. Owing to the prefab nature of the building she suspected the foods programmed into the machines was bland at best.
But she wasn't here to eat – at least not right now. Her eyes roved, searching for the elusive black and white livery in amongst the other fighters. It didn't take long to spot the handful of Zulu Forge recruits who'd come down to mingle with the fighters from bigger academies – four of them had laid claim to a table on her right. Scratch that, she thought. Three of them, plus a coach.
Kye sat there, laughing and joking with his young companions, and Codi needed to remind herself that he was only a year older than her. The fact he was coaching was impressive enough in itself. While she stole the spotlight in last year's contest for her epic final bout with Bruno Varlin, Kye made a lot of much smaller but equally valuable headlines. He single-handedly took Zulu Forge the furthest they'd ever gone into the knockout stages and maybe, with him now in the driving seat some of the fresh recruits could do even better.
Codi was well aware she probably looked a bit odd, standing leaning against the door frame and staring into the room, but she did it anyway. Eventually, her patience paid off when Kye looked over and spotted her. It was just for a moment, but still long enough for her to motion with a jerk of her head for him to leave his friends and join her in the hallway. He didn't acknowledge her straight away, but he drained the last of whatever it was he drinking, and stood up a few seconds later.
He said something to the others then strode away, his faint limp just discernable as he went. Codi retreated a little into the corridor and her mind started churning. What would she say? Somehow just going 'hi, how are you' didn't really feel adequate.
By the time Kye reached her she'd failed completely to come up with a suitable opening gambit, so when she found herself face to face with him after what had felt like forever, she only managed one word.
"Kye!" she blurted and instantly felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.
His face cracked with a grin. "Codi."
She wanted to hug him – feel him hug her back – and she went to take a step forward. He quickly raised a hand, still grinning, and shook his head. At first she didn't know what to think. Her mouth opened and closed stupidly. Then he made a very deliberate glance to the other fighters that were passing them on either side, shooting them curious looks.
"Walk with me," he said.
Codi simply nodded, falling into step beside him and just like that they were off, striding through the prefabricated maze of corridors just like any other fighters. This in itself wasn't unheard off; mixed groups of fighters from other academies passed them by, exchanging jibes and boasts as they went. Kye kept up the pretence, churning out some suitably banal conversation about Gauntlet exoskeleton regulations while they were around other people.
Then they took a left turn out of the throng, then another, and then a right, until Codi had no idea where they were. Right now she didn't really care – she just cared that they were alone. Finally Kye halted and turned to face her, brown eyes shining under the tepid corridor lighting.
"Kye I'm...it's been a while," she babbled. "How are you? Is Zulu Forge...you know – after last year I didn't know if you'd be fighting or coaching. Do you, err, I mean, I've been thinking-,"
Gallantly, he rescued her from herself.
By kissing her.
She wasn't totally ready for it. All of a sudden one of his arms had slipped around her waist; the other hand gently cupped the right side of her face and he pulled her close, pressing his soft lips against hers. For an instant she couldn't breathe and a squeak of surprise escaped before her mind caught up with what was going on. Then she kissed him back, digging one hand through his messy locks of hair, curling her other into a fistful of his jacket.
With eyes clamped shut, her feet found some purchase and she pushed him back against the wall, all the while keeping her lips locked against him. Electricity blazed in her veins as she felt the grip around her waist squeeze more tightly, and the fingers of the hand cupping her cheek slide gently through her long black hair. All she could think was: this is perfect.
Codi had no idea how long they stood there, tangled up together in that empty, white-walled corridor in a passionate embrace, given fuel by being cut off from each other for several interminable months. When Kye finally pulled away she let out a contented gasp and buried herself up against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging on, as though if she let go he might dematerialise into the ether. Then she gathered a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at him.
And he smiled his mischievous smile, and said, "Yeah, I missed you, too."