Glitch

Through the Window

PAX

"Don't tell me you're looking for Angler."

He could see Ty's face reflected in the dark window, concerned and incredulous. Pax sighed and rubbed his eyes. Ty was right; he could hardly see a thing, and if he could, he still wouldn't be able to recognize Angler in the alleys below.

It had only been an hour since the late night qualification rounds came to a close, and the building was in that period of eerie silence that always followed a night's match. The crowds had long since left, and most of the combatants were too exhausted after their rounds to train, preferring to take a much-needed rest in the dormitories. The upstairs practice rooms were disconcertingly silent and empty but for the two of them.

Pax turned away from the window and to his friend.

"I'm not," he lied. "Keep going." Ty looked back at the punching bag, holding his hands over his face in the defensive position. He launched a few quick hits, moving lightly from foot to foot. "You need to put more weight into it," Pax reminded him. "You'll never do a KO with that kind of hit. Remember that an android is covered with rubber padding. It absorbs a lot of the shock." The boy's eyes were narrowed with concentration. He tried again, this time including a solid kick. "Better," Pax admitted. "But try again."

He wondered, with a sickening feeling, if he was giving Ty the wrong advice, if he was only leading him straight to his death. Just like Angler. It wasn't the first time Pax had thought of it, but the idea felt even more terrible this time. After all, Pax had a more stocky build- not enough to be called burly, but strong. Ty was smaller and thinner. Instead of telling him to build up muscle that he didn't have, perhaps it would be better to expand on something that suited him better- speed and agility.

In that case, another mutant would be much better for the job, like Will or maybe Markus. The only problem was that they never would. Combatants within Sector Blue were friendly with each other, maybe even close, but few were crazy enough to waste their precious time helping another mutant train. Every single minute had to be spent productively, either by preserving energy or by conditioning. Conditioning meant success in a match, and success in a match meant survival- something far more valuable than altruism.

"Stop," he said out loud, and Ty did, breathing heavily. Pax went to the shelf and fetched a pair of gloves, colored red to contrast from Ty's blue ones.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's try something a bit more like an actual fight," Pax suggested. He jutted his head in the direction of the practice ring.

A minute later, the two were pacing within the circumference, gloved fists over their faces. The timer that Pax had set ticked ominously on the side table.

"Pretend I'm Sector Red," he called, wiggling his red gloves. "See? Just like a real match."

"If it was a real match, there wouldn't be gloves," Ty replied doubtfully.

"If it were a real match, I would be kicking your ass," Pax quipped with a grin. He gestured impatiently with one hand. "Come at me."

Ty sprang forward. Pax tensed, expecting a punch, but instead got a sweeping kick that he reeled back to avoid.

"Good!" he exclaimed, but the boy was already launching his second. Pax deflected it easily this time and retaliated with some hits of his own, pushing Ty back to the edge of the ring as he struggled to maintain a defense. "Light on your feet!" Pax ordered. "Get out of the way." He aimed a few more blows in quick succession followed by a low kick to the ankles.