Incipience

Chapter 8

"Yeah, I really don't see the point in this."

Xiomoazi's voice comes from my left, "well, Rombag said your senses seem to have grown sharper over the past few days and I was curious to see whether or not that observation only applies when your abilities are activated."

My ears perk up as a faint whizzing sound grows louder to my left. I lean right and let the ball fly past me. 

Xiomoazi, Nvei and N'vizwei have replaced Rombag as my instructors tonight since, according to them,  the commander had more pressing matters to attend to. Xiomoazi proposed that, instead of sparing exercises, we ought to do another study on my reflexes. The Inovarian blindfolded me a solid ten, fifteen minutes ago and has been letting Nvei and N'vizwei lob projectiles at me ever since. 

Thankfully, what Rombag's observations were accurate or else I'd be very screwed right now. The Inovarians have been throwing these balls hard enough to leave a bruise wherever they hit, so, since I don't want to look like a Dalmatian, I've had to dodge every one of them.

"Can't we just call it a day?" I ask as I sidestep another ball. "I've dodged just about a hundred of these things; I think you get the point by now."

"We could stop here," Xiomoazi agrees. "However, the more data we get, the better. Remember that this activity is providing data on the meteor's effect on your daily living. Do you not want to learn more about it? This information could very well help any other humans who start displaying similar symptoms as yours. Wouldn't you like to help them as we've helped you?"

I pause to face the direction her voice is coming from. "Don't try to guilt-trip me! You know damn well that you already have what you need; you're just waiting for me to get hit!"

I barely dodge the fastball aimed at my forehead. My face turns up in a scowl. If that one actually hit, I'd most definitely be left with a bruise. Are these people trying to kill me or something?

"Watch your tone, Cadet!" N'vizwei calls, "I am more than willing to add more weights and higher reps to your training tomorrow morning if you are insistent on yelling at Doctor Xiomoazi."

I quickly mumble an apology. Of the instructors I've had thus far, N'vizwei is the only one who provides a worthy enough incentive for me to behave. Corporal punishment works with most cadets, so it's Rombag and Nvei's go-to's but I heal much too quickly to care about that anymore. Sure, the pain sucks for a few minutes, but it always subsides and completely heals over within the hour. N'vizwei, on the other hand, has been adding weights to everything that I do for the past week every time I speak out of line. Apparently, my body can only heal injuries and stave off foreign substances, but it takes a day or two fix sore muscles. The past ten days have proven that irritating this particular Inovarian is anything but a good idea.

Another ten minutes roll by before I decide to take the fall and let one of their shots make contact. Xiomoazi, like the snake she is, calls it a day a few seconds later.

"I think the data we gathered today will be sufficient," she says with a hum of satisfaction. 

I take her chipper tone as permission to take my blindfold off and do so quickly. My split attention doesn't prevent me from catching N'vizwei's last-minute pitch. I throw it back at them as hard as I can. The familiar (but nonetheless off-putting) sound of N'vizwei's robotic laughter rings out as they let the orange rubber ball hit their chest. Of the three instructors that I've interacted with, N'vizwei is by far the most playful. Sure, they're all business during training but they most definitely get a kick out of my antics during my nightly spars with Rombag. Even though they don't make outright jokes, they add a layer of humor to our sessions (which is much needed since half of the time it's just me and Rombag arguing. It always results in either target practice at my expense or a fight that I end up losing).