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But this isn’t any other trial.
Reaching in my pack, a plain climbing rope rests in the bottom. Along with a water canister and holo-compass, there’s little else there. Pulling the rope out, I fasten myself a simple harness and wield the bag onto my shoulder to make the ascent.
The rock face is slippery and unpredictable, but thankfully, I’m trained to withstand this and more. Digging my lower claws into the crags, I hoist myself off the ground, searching ahead for a strong point to anchor myself in. From here, I calculate about 140 feet between myself and the top of the cliff.
It’s too dark to see the fortress at the top, but I know from our debriefing that LaCutta Corps has cameras stationed at the top. If ever there was a time to prove myself and shave a few precious minutes off my time, this is it.
The cliffside passes under me, becoming a rhythm in the night as I climb. I hear my breath. I feel my claws digging into the mountain. Focus is my only companion until, at last,my chin reaches the top. Clambering over the side, I look out into the darkness, feeling that whatever lies ahead, I’ve well and conquered all that lies below.
My breath heaves victorious as I see my yellow flag glittering in the dark light above me. Within seconds, I snag it from its post. Making my way down the fortress path, I spot the La CuttaCorps emblem.
A small comm kiosk awaits, marking my time for this half of the challenge. Looking down, I see my numbers and smile. This is going to be a cinch.
The path lies flat and even before me, making the ideal setting to stop and camp for the rest of the night. With such scant supplies, I could do little more than build a fire and sleep alongside it.
I wake up early with the sun.
Looking up at the dawn of a spring morning, I’m grateful now for my light pack. A herd of wild murphins, feasting on the dew-fallen grass of the fortress meadow, graze before me. I wind up behind a boulder of waist-high grass. Creeping along with the whipping feathered tops of native turf, they never hear me coming.
“Ahhhh!” I roar, diving from behind the rock into the middle of them. In a panic, they shuffle widely, allowing me to grab two and bash them together without so much as breaking a sweat.
“And that’s breakfast,” I chuckle, sitting down to rip their feathers clean before throwing them on the fire. They roast nicely, while I scavenge broad leaves for fresh water. Fully revived, I set course again, checking my time to see that with my little shortcut, I’ve shaved almost twenty full minutes from Danel’s time.
If I keep this up, I’ll have that top spot in no time.
“I don’t knowhow you did it, bro.” My brother swipes me across the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, it was simple,” I smile, stepping from the showers, and gripping a towel. “I just thought about wiping that stupid grin off your face.” With Kalei’s grime fully free from my scales, I can relish my victory. Somehow, I came out unscathed and managed to beat Danel’s time by 13 minutes.
“Well, good job, either way. Tell you what, how about a drink, on me?”
“Sure, but, there’s somewhere I’ve got to be.” What I don’t tell him was that the moment I crossed the finish line at Ft. Sounder, Tania’s face was the one I hoped would be there.
The note I left in my stead lingers in my mind with concern. I need to know that she’ll be there tonight. I need to see her standing there, waiting for me.
But walking up to the local dive bar, it’s clear she didn’t. The bar is barren, with only a few locals at a table in the back. I stand there, checking my comm for the time. I’ve got the time right, the place. But where is she?
“So, what’s the mystery?” Danel asks, reaching up to order us a round. “Why this bar?”
“It's nothing,” Sipping and looking away, I push Tania from my mind. My victory seems a little hollow without her. I keep thinking about the light in her face when I tell her how my claws slipped from the crags on Rockall’s Cliff, that I would’ve fallen to my death if I hadn’t grabbed a tree root at the last second.
She never shows.
Something stings about her absence. It makes it harder for me to relax as the hours drag on. Anxiety drowns me with every sip until, at last, my brother drags me from the bar.
“Ok, soldier,” he says, gripping me with an arm under my shoulder. “That’s the last time I take you to Dirk’s Bar.”
But he’s dead wrong.
I drag him back the next night. And the next until I can’t evade his questions anymore.
“I thought I would get to see her before she went back to Glimner.”
“We’ve been here every night for a week, I doubt it. You don't have any way to contact her?”
I shake my head, looking down at the head of my Yuzuu beer, hoping an answer will emerge from the froth. “She works for some designer, but I never got the name. Or her comm number. Anything.”
“Well, that’s a good start.” Usually, Danel’s jokes can pull me from anything. When he catches my stoney expression he says. “Wow. Ok. So it’s that bad, is it?’
