sword in hand, rose from the ground like a ghostly apparition. He was short and squat, his shoulders wider than Tank’s. He also had no face, just a blank space where it should be.
A simulation, Kira realized. A lifelike training device used in place of a sparring partner. Instead of a physical blow, you would receive an electric zap whenever you failed to block. Kira had never seen one mimic reality this well. It far surpassed even the most advanced human version available.
Baran and Amila had explained how they worked the first time she'd visited the gym. They'd followed that immediately by asking if she'd like to try it. She'd declined for many reasons, the least of which, she got the feeling the question was a test.
The boy attacked, his movements jerky and clumsy. The armored figure blocked easily and counterattacked. The boy flinched, pain chasing across his face.
Kira passed just as the boy lunged, only to be thrown to the edge of the mat. Bad move. He should have tried to disrupt the simulation's center of gravity, rather than going directly in for a strike.
The girl from the sailboat watched with a pensive expression on her face, a staff similar to the boy’s cradled in her arms.
Liont and Fari stood behind her, pained sympathy in their eyes as the boy hit the mat hard.
Kira continued past, keeping one eye on their group as she moved to the opposite side of the gym.
She circled the track two more times as the boy grew more frustrated with each failed attempt, never changing his attack, doing the exact same thing time and again.
Kira slowed as he hit the edge of the simulation. He was going about it the wrong way. He needed to vary his movements up. His form was atrocious and his fighting style utterly unsuited to his small size.
He also demonstrated a distinct lack of thought or even a semblance of strategy, a fact which would bite him in the ass eventually.
Most civilians thought fighting and combat were simple things driven by instinct and decided by strength. This held true at times, but like war, a fight was more than the power behind a punch or the speed of an attack. It took foresight, planning, strategy. Good warriors had brains as well as brawn.
Right now, the boy wasn't demonstrating either quality.
The little girl sitting on the sidelines was the first to notice as Kira stopped on the track and turned toward them, watching as the boy picked himself up to square off against the simulation yet again.
He had guts. She'd give him that.
"Joule," the girl said softly.
Liont and Fari faced her, both men’s faces polite as they nodded at her.
The boy looked up, his eyes alert and slightly startled as he noticed Kira for the first time.
He said a word and the simulation froze. He stepped out of the simulation square, his face grave.
Kira watched as he and the girl faced her. They bent in small, identical bows.
Her lips quirked. How adorable.
"Lady, we wanted to thank you for your kindness," the boy said, the words oddly formal. It was a marked difference from the suspicious, fierce thing who had challenged her when she'd pulled them from the burning sailboat.
She watched the two, not knowing how to respond. She hadn't saved them to receive their gratitude. Granted, her actions had consequences she had not foreseen then, but she didn't blame either of them for that.
"What are you doing?" Kira asked, ignoring the thank you.
The two exchanged a look before focusing on Kira. As before, the boy was the first to speak. "I am training."
Kira could see that, but she didn't know the reason why, or why he seemed so desperate. The emotion fueled every move he made.
"Why?" she asked.
The boy's mouth flattened into a stubborn line as he stared up at her. It was an expression she'd seen on other faces, ones who haunted her nightmares. Something about it said he'd had the innocence torn from him, and knew the only person he could count on to protect him from now on, was himself.
That expression kept her rooted in place instead of following her normal routine of retreating to her room as soon as her run was done.
"Joule has to be ready," the girl said.
"For what?"
"To protect us."
Now wasn't that an interesting answer, especially given the phalanx of protection currently circling them.
Baran, seeing the question on her face, stepped forward. "Joule and Ziva are the last of House Maxiim’s future. Joule