Cassiel Winters 1: Sky's End Read Free Page A

dedicated solely to combat training, opens up before me. A ruckus of bodies hitting pads, encouraged by deep male voices shouting really mean things ricochets down deep in my all-too-sensible core, which would really rather be reading in my downcore right now. Ah, the sound of pain , and . . . as the stench of ripe onions and sour milk reaches my nostrils— the smell of fear . I step out hesitantly, and it takes me a second to realize King has stepped out, too.
    “You’re not . . .?”
    “Staying?” he fills in for me. “Of course.”
    “Oh no, really. Thanks, but—”
    Out of the corner of my eye, my combat instructor, Lt. Lazarus, closes in, and there’s no time to add, “you’ll just make me so nervous I might vomit.”
    King seizes my arm, startling my already weak heart, then leans in and breathes out, “Do not go gently.” He releases me quickly, just in time for the arrival of Lt. Lazarus, who greets King with a cool but friendly demeanor.
    What the . . .? My ear is still tingly where I’m pretty sure King’s lips have just grazed it! But nerves have really taken hold as I can’t sort out what to sort out: the comment he just made (I think it’s a quote from an ancient poem) or my pending doom. Pending doom. Definitely focus on that.
    The two of them head off, leaving me to follow them toward the Lightvision TM.33 pad, where I observe my class convening.
    There’s a real turnout for the test today. Super .
    Dozens of clean-shaven, young, tough-looking men and a few flinty women are seated in rows around the giant square simulator pad, which looks like a slightly elevated stage. Lightvision TM.33 transforms the 200-square-foot pad into a world that rolls, rotates, and shifts. The participants perceive and interact inter-dimensionally (that’s not technically true, but it’s how the manufacturer, Vesda, markets the technology) while the audience watches the events unfold all within the stage area, a three-dimensional live-action film in cube form, if you will.
    My eyes always fall on Cadet Stoddard, the human brick. Seriously, his head’s almost rectangular, and he’s this test’s replicam commander. For some reason, ESE likes to fictionalize real classmates in the tests, probably because someday we’ll be on real teams together.
    Stoddard will just love his replicam’s elevated status. Ugh . The one or two times I’ve been partnered with him in H2H, and inevitably slammed and crushed under his impressive body weight, he’s taken his sweet-ass time getting off of me. He’s an alpha. I was taken aback to discover such an evolutionary ranking system is still so pervasive. Then again, I suppose, in evolutionary terms, that is how we humans have survived these millions of years: the strong eat the weak.
    That’s it. Way to keep up the positive thinking, Cassiel.
    His buddies look my way, but not before I can avert my gaze. Then I spot Jordanna sitting on a second tier, behind a bunch of yapping cadets. I can’t hide my shock, and my first thought’s that she’s here to watch me fall on my face. But as our eyes meet (how can she stand those long bangs?), she gives me a quick nod.
    Is she here to support me? Guess she’d miss all my “crappy, smelly old books and lame scribbles cluttering up” our pod.
    Then Jordanna spots King, and looks back at me with exaggerated ‘utter disbelief,’ before settling straight forward with a look of ‘cold disdain’ on her otherwise pretty face. Hey, I’d just as soon he weren’t here either.
    King and Lt. Lazarus, after sharing a word or two, have taken their seats. They glance at me approaching. Seeing the two together, I’m reminded of how Lt. Lazarus differs from other officers. He’s fairly young, maybe in his 30s, but seems . . . worn. He’s got dark hair, which he keeps surprisingly long and scruffy, by Command standards, and deep-set brown eyes. Sometimes he’s unshaven, but I find that complements his strong Roman nose and full lips.
    For a