DUALITY /#Wattys 2021

Chapter 19

Reb took Ridley out the next morning as soon as the sun rose. Othala guards used snub-nosed laser pistols and long-barreled rifles made specifically for the Queen's Army, and Ridley was to be trained in the use of both.

Breathing mouthfuls of steam into the freezing cold, she shot at cans, standing, behind cover, on her stomach, and lying on her back, all holding a sack of stones in her left arm. Over and over she sighted and pulled the trigger, shivering and squinting against the early morning sun through the bare-skeleton trees. Then Reb put a tiny projector on the ground, and suddenly armed men—holograms—came rushing through the trees at her. As Ridley shot at them, they ducked and dove, or they disappeared with a flash as she hit them.

If  she hit them. In the first group of ten holograms, Ridley only hit two.

"Come on, Ridley. You can do better than that! You think you won't have guys running after you the day you do this? It might even be in a damned snowstorm!" Reb took her weapon, restarted the simulation, assumed the same position, and hit every target with perfect precision.

Ridley slit her eyes at him and tried not to snap back. Her teeth chattered, and she half thought he might yell at her for that, too. Worse, the weapons weighed much heavier toward the grip due to their power packs, making the barrel of the rifle feel ridiculously light, and the pistol tended to thrum and vibrate as it powered up. Both spoiled her aim.

"Can I take a break and warm my hands?" she called as Reb set out more targets. Gloves had been set out for her in her room this morning; Reb was making her practice barehanded.

"You think you're getting a break with the entire Palace Guard coming after you? We're going to do this running in two days, with moving targets." He crossed the clearing to her and reset the target projector. "Lie down and mow 'em down."

Ridley crunched down in the fallen leaves on the cold ground. He bent down once more to growl instructions in her ear and adjust her aim.

At last they broke for lunch. She got to go inside and warm herself at the fake fireplace, with Reb showing her how to take both weapons apart, reassemble them, and reload them as they ate. "Tomorrow, you do this," he said. "Day after tomorrow, you're doing this blindfolded."

They spent the entire afternoon outside. But she had to admit, by the time the shadows lengthened and the chill deepened, she was improving. She really was.

***

The running drills were harder. First Ridley ran, holding her sack of rocks in her aching left arm, firing at the targets as she ran behind a stand of bare trees. Then Reb brought out a sack of orange drones, about fifty of them, and they swarmed and dove among the treetops while Ridley had to run and shoot, run and shoot. He wouldn't let her go inside until she'd demolished all fifty. At least today he'd let her wear gloves.

"Tomorrow we're bringing Sannah, and you're holding her while you practice," said Reb.

Ridley spun around. "What?!"

Reb crossed his arms and gave her an even stare.

"Absolutely not! There is no way I'm bringing my baby around any kind of weapon."

"You think Princess Ember isn't going to be around 'any kind of weapon?' If you can't do this holding Sannah, how will you do this holding her?"

Ridley's whole stomach caved in like a sinkhole. Why hadn't she thought about this? What kind of a mother was she? Of course, she hadn't considered that she might be asked to shoot with Sannah on the practice range, but as a mother, shouldn't she have thought of the eight-month-old Princess? And why hadn't the King? Of course, he had thought of it, it was his plan, but—