TRAIN [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 12: Step One

                  

Aimee's buckle clicked in. She thought about how she had tried to climb the furniture in Aunt Suzanne's house. She had rarely succeeded, but, of course, she was younger and smaller then, and she had had no equipment. She told herself that climbing the Monkey Wall would be easy, yet she shivered and sweated beads.

"Goodness, would you calm down," uttered Valerie, touching Aimee's shoulder and bringing her out of her daydream.

"Sorry, I'm just not fond of heights," she expounded.

"Take a deep breath," Valerie advised, "I was also nervous when I first started. Don't touch the red ones."

They progressively laid their hands on the handles closest to them on the Wall – the ones that were sturdy turned blue at their touch, and the risky ones went red. Aimee took Valerie's advice and breathed meditatively, but that did not help much. Talking to her, however, did.

"When you first started?" she asked, recycling what Valerie had said. She nodded. "How old were you?"

"Finn and I started this year," she laughed and started to climb. "We're also seventeen."

Aimee set off, too, thinking hard on that statement. They climbed higher. At the quarter way point – signified by a red ribbon that appeared on their far left – she built up the courage to ask Valerie her current rank. The question surprised her. She had to think for a second.

"Uhm, somewhere in the top twenty, it changes a lot."

"Are you kidding?" she queried, as they left the quarter way ribbon behind. "How many of you are there?"

"There are about seventy RDAs," she giggled.

"So, it's not that hard," Aimee hoped, "to be number one?"

"Oh no, it is. Finn and I just have mad skills," she winked. "You should get to see our ranks this afternoon; they're usually projected onto that wall over there." – The seating area with the untouched couches.

Valerie scrutinised the Monkey Wall for a sturdy handle to grab hold of.

"How do they keep track?" queried Aimee.

"Cameras," she found a few handles and ascended.

Another question popped up, "Don't you hate being watched?"

"Not really. To me, the cameras are kind of comforting. If something were to happen to me, everyone would know. They make you uncomfortable?"

Aimee shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. I'm still getting used to your world," and passed Valerie on the wall, but she slowed down again a moment later. "What are RDAs?"

"It's just a name for us under-twenty-year-old agents who get our training done on this floor. It stands for Ranked Division Agents."

They climbed past the blue ribbon that marked the halfway point. Aimee could hear Stefan cheering her on. Finn cheered, too, for both girls. Dominick ogled them from the distance, silent as a mouse, with his weights in his hands. The other RDAs started watching as well, mainly because Finn and Stefan were screaming so loud that any prior concentration on whatever else was broken. Eventually, and to Dominick's surprise, everyone participated, cheering avidly and encouragingly. Valerie and Aimee targeted the next ribbon. The crimson material seemed to sparkle, like it was calling them, one quarter from the top of the Wall.

Aimee's arms were beginning to cramp; she had never put them to such exercise. Her legs were strong because they had to be, but as long as she could catch a soccer ball, she never needed to train her upper body. Clearly, that was going to change here. The RDAs became quiet observers. Valerie was fast, as fit and energetic as when she had set off, but Aimee would not give up. She hoisted her body and climbed through the ache, and in the end, she triumphed. Their equipment sucked them onto the wall as Aimee held onto the last handle. The magnetism was an unusual and awkward experience, even for Valerie.

It was a GINM original: a climbing wall that attracted its climbers' harnesses once there was a winner. That way, they could not fall when the structure extended from The Ranking Room wall as it did then, creating a platform for the victor to climb onto. Aimee watched the RDAs and waited, petrified, for the Wall to cease. Just then, a wire from the ceiling reeled down, secured itself onto Aimee's gear and brought her up onto the victor's pedestal. Another wire ran down to receive Valerie.

"You win, Aimee!" shouted Stefan, way down where he was.

"I don't think I like winning!" she squealed back, fretted.

The crowd chuckled at her remark, mistaking it for some sort of witticism. She reversed from the edge until her back was against the wall, her eyes shut to erase the sense of looking down again. Valerie zipped up in front of her and landed in a plié.

"Aimee," she addressed her, she opened her eyes for a split-second, and then shut them again. Valerie smiled at her and said, "Congratulations. We can go down now."

Aimee opened one eye. "Just a minute," she said, "I need to take some more meditative breaths."

She shut her eyes once more. Come on, Aimee, you've jumped out the window of a freaking skyscraper. You can't be afraid!

"It's alright if you're scared," uttered Valerie, her voice caught Aimee by surprise.

"No, it's not," she sighed.

"You're only human."

"I should be ready."

"You will be," she tested. "Your training hasn't even started yet, so don't worry. Trust me." Aimee sighed again, hid her eyes with her hands and wiped them gently. "Trust me."

For a moment, one of Aimee's inner voices insisted that she did, but another voted trust to be overrated – it was a freaking high wall! But the on-going argument in her head was pointless; she had made up her mind, and if she was going to trust anyone in that room, other than Stefan, it would be the twins.

"So, how do we get down?" she finally spoke. "And can I ask you what your full name is?" She imagined it would make it easier to treat her like a regular sixteen-year-old rather than an ass-kicking spy.

"We jump," she replied. "It's the best part!"

Aimee braced herself. Valerie squeezed her hand for a second or two, letting go by the time she started counting.

"It's Valerie Trimble, by the way," she smiled. "On three? One, two..."

Trimble. The surname reminded Aimee of one of her favourite bands. Obviously, she could not station her mind on the topic, but she realised how much she missed simply listening to her indie music in the comely confines of her bedroom.

"Three!" they chorused, and lifted off the platform.

As they fell, the wind blew through their hair, and they felt luminous – Aimee even managed an exuberant cry as all her fears took to the wind. They flew past that quarter way ribbon, and then the wires slowed them down progressively until they had safely landed.

Aimee threw her hair out of her face, and with a newfound eagerness, she asked, "So, what's next?"

Her friends shared glances, and even the crowd of people, with which she was unacquainted, began thinking abstractedly of how she could further her training.

"How about..." Stefan began, and as he ambled towards the Ranking Room exit, the others tailed him expectantly, "everything. We'll create a schedule."