Earthian

Jump

Day three. Training continues here at Valiant Base and I’m not exactly thriving. We’re inside one of the Seelio’s weird portals right now–one of their instances, as they call them–and even if I know it’s technically safe, I’m still not a fan of eating this much dirt.

I’ve just bounced down a small slope while my teammates are bounding on ahead. It’s lowered gravity training to prepare us for different environments across the League… and I suck. I truly, royally suck at this. I suck harder than a jet engine.

Free running is the whole reason I’m here (unless there’s a big call for bicycle messengers in space), and I can’t even manage to walk. Embarrassing isn’t the right word.

I carefully get back on my feet while Adia waves at me. She yells, “Hurry up, Jace! It’s getting away!”

Her most athletic A Grade is hiking, and yet she’s prancing along like a baby deer. What the hell? And I don’t know why everyone’s calling me Jace lately, but it’s really not helping.

So I start to run. My toes push at the ground and I fly a few feet up into the air. At the top of the arc, it feels like slow motion; I’m in a highlights reel, but without a bombastic orchestra playing in the background, then gravity wins the battle and I begin to fall. I can’t get the timing of this right for some reason. My foot swats at the ground, my toes catch and slip, and I’m doing cartwheels.

My chin smacks soil that’s about as hard as packing bubbles, and I get up a little more slowly this time. I think I pulled something. At least, that’s what the faint dagger-like sensation in the back of my thigh feels like.

I hear someone shouting but I can’t really be bothered to pay attention. Instead, I flash a thumbs up, start (super gently) walking it off, and try to figure out what the heck I’m doing here. Why I can’t do this?

Gravity always wins. I hate her so damned much right now.

I’m staring at the ground in front of my feet, and I’ve got my brow knitted so hard that the middle of my forehead’s starting to sting. This really isn’t where I wanted to be on day three. I mean, I’m literally watching my team run off without me, and I still haven’t seen a single giant robot yet.

Alejandra’s ringtone plays, and her saccharine voice rapturously shouts, “We caught it!”

I spin my finger in the air, and realize I’m likely hitting peak bitterness. This isn’t a good pattern. It’s not a road I want to travel down.

At least my thigh doesn’t hurt much anymore, but before I can make any other lame attempts at walking, the sky begins to throb–a warning that the instance is about to eject–and we’re flushed back out into the gym. My belly doesn’t agree with the feeling too much, and I’m sure the nauseously curled lip really adds something special to my demeanor.

The rest of the team are suddenly there beside me; that’s how it works when an instance ejects. Everything that went into the instance is washed back out through the opening. They’re all cheering and laughing, and Michael’s trying to teach everyone how to high-five properly, while I’m a sagging sorry mess off to the side. Man, I was never this unhappy at summer camp.

“Congratulations!” Owijer says sweetly, and I’m not sure how or when he got here. “This was no easy task, and you’ve all done so well!”

He’s blatantly lying. The other five peacekeepers managed to catch the target all on their own, while I was busy fishing my knee out of my armpit. I’m terrible.

They all cheer while Owijer looks up at me, and there’s a flash of sadness in his eyes. He sees me. This can’t end well.

“Alright,” he says. “Settle down. You’re all fresh still, and there are more exercises left on the schedule.”