#thran bugging clamp lool

[dorizardthewizard]

The Revival of Akillian: Chapter 6

Prologue / Chapter 5 / Chapter 7

6. THE BREATH!

In the old Arena Stadium, the tests follow one another. The volunteers put on the biotronic suit one after the other and follow each other in the holo-trainer, from where they come out later, generally exhausted, sometimes happy to have passed the tests that Clamp had programmed on his console, most often annoyed at having failed, certain that they would not be considered during the final selection.

Then comes Thran's turn, who Clamp is happy to get rid of, because Thran has stuck with him almost from the beginning, amazed by his console ("It's a Micronics, right? - No, kid, I made it myself. - But you took a Micronics as a base, I'm sure of it!”), constantly asking questions about what appears on the screen (“It's virtual reality, OK, but how does the ball materialize? How can you feel it under your feet?”)… until Clamp, exasperated, asks Aarch:

- Let’s get through this one. If he's not good, send him home!

So Thran dons the yellow and purple combination, which takes a bit of time as he tries to pinpoint the location and function of each sensor, then enters the white cube. Aarch warns him that he will be tested in defense. He is therefore up against bald and blue sims who must take the ball before they reach the penalty area. He does not fare badly, blocking his opponents tenaciously, who however do not tire, and do not run out of steam. None of them cross the white line. Thran even manages to snatch the ball away and lead an attack on his own, finishing off with a shot at a target that happily flashes green, after which he collapses on the virtual field, breathless. On his monitor, Clamp notices this and notes a certain deficit in endurance, compensated by a remarkable tenacity and concentration. An excellent defender in short... Clamp guesses he won't be rid of him any time soon.

Then comes Ahito, whom D’jok must wake up again.

- This one, we are going to test him as a goalkeeper. - proposes Aarch.

He indeed remembers the masterful stop the sleepy man made the other day in the Cafeteria, unexpectedly preventing the ball from smashing the glasses and bottles behind the counter.

Ahito lives up to his reputation: lying in front of a huge goal, he seems to doze off as if he were on a park lawn and not defending goals. A ball flies towards him. His arm goes up in a flash, his fist hits it and sends it back. Then a second: this time it's his foot that stops it, seemingly without him waking up! Now the shots are more vicious: arched, aimed at the top bar, brushing against the posts or bouncing off them. Each time Ahito springs up, stops the ball or sends it back, with hand, foot, head, chest; leaping, tumbling, plunging to the ground, alive as a fire, the exact opposite of the sleepy dormouse that he gave the impression of being. Clamp needs to throw ten balls at once for Ahito to let two pass… for lack of arms and legs. Aarch nods, impressed: definitely, this boy has a lot of hidden skills!

- Next! - he calls.

It's Mei's turn. The jumpsuit fits her like a bag and right off the bat she points out:

- This thing’s for boys! Plus, it stinks of sweat! Don't you have anything more fitting?

- Sorry, miss, you'll have to make do, - Aarch replies. - We don't have a factory to mass-produce them, you see. If you don't like it, you know the way out!

- Well as her mother, I am offended! My Mei deserves better than that! Well, if you must... go on, my daughter, show them your skills!

Mei is impressed by the virtual dimensions of the pitch, but tries hard not to let it show. She knows that she is being watched, as if she were on a catwalk for a fashion show. She is immediately jostled by eight blue sims, who rush towards the goals she is supposed to defend.

- Hey! - she protests. - I will not play in defense! I need an attack test for me!

Her voice echoes through the micro-speakers built into Clamp's console, near which Mei's mother stands, watching the scientist as if she understands something about his instruments and his manipulations.

- Did you hear that? - she demands. - Change your program!

- Ma'am, - retorts Aarch coldly, - We are in charge here. Are you a candidate? No? Then you have no business here!

- Fifteen seconds. - announces Clamp, which starts the countdown.

This is displayed in the holo-trainer. Mei understands she has fifteen seconds to prove her worth, or she will be permanently ousted. She rushes towards the virtual attackers, throws herself at the feet of the one with the ball and mows it down just before he shoots at the goal. A new ball appears at the feet of another sim, and she takes it in a masterful tackle. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth... Mei leaps, dives, slides, kicks and heads, each time managing to recover the ball. Seven out of eight balls strike the opponent in fifteen seconds - and Mei isn't even out of breath.

152 points out of 160, displays the console in front of a dumbfounded Aarch and Clamp. No player tested in defense had exceeded 100 points, except Thran who scored 120. Both exchange a knowing smile: this is the defender they need... but without her fussy mother!

- What a spectacle, dear holo-viewers! - comments Callie Mystic, who is following the trials live for Arcadia News. - And it's not over yet, candidates are flocking to try their luck! Who would have thought there are such great players on Akillian? We can already thank Aarch for revealing them to us!

- And me? - Clamp protested. - Without my machines...

- And Professor Clamp too, of course. I'm willing to bet that his holo-trainer is going to be a big hit in Galactik Football clubs!

Tested as a passer, Sinedd does very honorably: his ball hits thirteen out of fifteen moving targets, represented by concentric red circles. The more powerful the shots, the farther the circles move apart. Right foot, left foot, on the fly, returned… even one from the head. He scores 145 points, which is not far from perfect.

- Here, try to do better... if you can! - he challenges D’jok, handing him the jumpsuit.

- With pleasure, my friend...

D’jok is also tested as a passer, but this time marked by an opponent: not only does he need to shoot at the targets, but also to prevent the blue sim from stealing the ball from him. It quickly turns into a hellish chase, in which D’jok nonetheless manages to crash any targets he spots - he quickly loses count. The sim eventually gives up and fades away, as if discouraged. The bell announcing the end of the test rings out at the right time: D’jok is at the end of his rope.

Standing behind Clamp, Sinedd watches the progress of the score bar, confident that D’jok will not hit 100. His smirk fades when the score hits 120… and the bar keeps rising. D’jok joins him as he passes 140... Sinedd grits his teeth. Finally, the bar stabilizes: the screen displays 150 points.

- How do you like that? – jibes D’jok.

Sinedd grunts, but finds nothing to complain about - he can't even accuse Clamp's machines of cheating!

- We're still live from Arena Stadium, where Aarch's recruiting tests are coming to an end, - says Callie Mystic, followed step by step by her trusty flying holo-cam. - There are hardly any candidates left... but I see latecomers still getting out of the elevator! We can say that these two have arrived at the last minute to try to join Aarch’s team!...

Heeding the voice of its mistress, the holo-cam focuses on the two latecomers in question… this is how Norata discovers them, who has installed a TV screen in his greenhouses, just to have a little company when he transplants or cuts his plants. His son, in close-up! In the company of a little brat with white hair! His arms drop, the flower box he was holding too. Roaring in anger, he rushes to the garage and throws himself into his pick-up slider.

***

- Okay, well… I think I'd better leave you. - Rocket says to Tia, when the two of them reach the holo-trainer.

- Out of the question! You brought me here, you can’t go back now (Tia softens her somewhat bossy tone with a smile). At least stay to see me play!

- Okay…

Rocket mingles with the crowd, glaring at the monitor, which shows the audience what is going on inside the holo-trainer. Leaning over Clamp's console, his uncle hasn't seen him yet. Besides, Rocket doesn't want Aarch to find out.

Tia stands in front of the entrance to the cube, from which comes out an exhausted and crestfallen candidate: apparently it hasn't been a success for him… he changes, and gives the suit to Tia without a word. Aarch turns to her:

- It’s your turn, young lady. Are you the last one?

- Uh… not really…

She looks around for Rocket, but he has melted into the crowd.

She is shown the locker room, she goes to put on the outfit, and in turn enters the holo-trainer. The virtual terrain and the artificial sky elicit a little cry of enchantment from her. Then the ball materializes at her feet. Just when she notices it, she is violently pushed by a blue sim suddenly appearing at her side. She stands up, stunned - the ball is still there.

Four avatars rush at Tia from the other end of the field. She understands that she is in a defensive position, in front of the penalty area, and that she has to prevent these four from reaching the empty net behind her. Tia concentrates... burning energy, incredible power sweeps over her, even beginning to flow over her in bluish strands. She gets the impression that time is stretching, that the four virtual players are galloping in slow motion. She can see very clearly what she needs to do to prevent them taking the ball from her. It’s almost impossible - but she feels she can do it. She starts running too - towards the attackers! As she runs, this fabulous energy carries her, fills her with inordinate force, flows from her in electric blue waves. She reaches a terrific speed, the sims move like snails next to her: all their gestures are broken down, she can guess - and counter - their every move. Having reached a meter in front of them, she shoots up the ball. She takes off in turn in a column of light and joins the ball, which seems suspended in mid-air. Everything is slowing down around Tia - or rather, she's the one that has accelerated at a phenomenal rate! She screams without even realizing it. Her foot rises in a powerful swing and hits the ball, which shoots towards the opposing goals, pulverizing the virtual goal, sinking into the net like a meteor.

Then Tia descends, spinning down her column of energy, which diminishes and leaves her as she approaches the ground... she lands gently on the ground, stunned but not really out of breath, her nerves just a little tense, as if she had received a small electric shock. She doesn't know what exactly happened, but she feels like it was pretty good...

In front of the console, Aarch and Clamp watch the event live. They stand, absolutely flabbergasted.

- The Breath! - whispers Aarch, who realizes it first.

When Tia comes out of the holo-trainer, everyone's eyes are fixed on her - dazzled, stunned eyes. Rocket even more so, who forgets to hide. Tia heads straight for him, takes off her outfit and hands it to him:

- Your turn now.

In her underwear and bra, she runs to get dressed in the locker room, followed by thirty pairs of eyes who do not yet believe what they have seen.

Aarch suddenly discovers his nephew standing in the middle of the crowd, dumbfounded, clothes in hand.

- Rocket? Does your dad know you're here?

- Yes, and I won’t allow it! - a gruff voice breaks out.

Norata slices through the audience, hobbling as fast as he can manage on his artificial leg. He snatches the suit from Rocket's hands, throws it to the ground, and holds out a peremptory finger at his son.

- You come with me! We're going home.

Head down, hands in his pockets, Rocket shuffles behind his father to the elevator. Before entering, he turns around, and sees Tia at the locker room door, staring at him sadly...

It's even worse: not only will he get a big yelling at, but he will also regret not getting to know this strange, little Obiane a bit better.

***

Everyone has been waiting for the test results for almost an hour. Standing or seated, alone or in small groups, candidates lose patience. Some have already left, confident that their more or less disastrous performance has placed them at the bottom of the scale. The others hope to have shown some talent, enough to justify their selection at least as substitutes ...

In their corner, leaning over their screens, Aarch and Clamp debate, point their fingers at such an area or that column, scribble on pocket screens, talk, argue, and seem to have trouble coming to an agreement.

Mei's mother swears to her gods that she will make a big scene if her champion daughter is not selected. Sinedd paces around like a caged lion. Tia stays away, brushing off anyone who tries to approach her. D’jok, Micro-Ice, Thran and Ahito are sitting in a circle on the floor; Ahito is dozing, Micro-Ice is fidgeting impatiently and D’jok is worried:

- They'll take me, right? - he asks Thran for the umpteenth time.

- Are you kidding or what? If they don't take you, we can all go home, I say!

- Yeah, I'm sick of this! - Micro-Ice explodes, and gets up abruptly. - We've been hanging around for an hour, I can't take it anymore! I don't care about this team, I’m leaving. - he walks away with a determined step towards the elevator.

- Your attention please! - Aarch's deep, strong voice echoes, and everyone stands up. - Clamp and I have finally picked seven of you. As for the rest of you, don't be disappointed if you weren't selected. I will keep your names because I will surely need substitutes. And don't forget, there’s more to life than football…

- That’s the first sane thing I’ve heard all day! - says Micro-Ice, who suddenly turns around.

- Clamp?

He taps on a holographic console, which projects six faces into the air above the audience...

D’jok. Thran. Ahito. Sinedd. Mei. And Tia.

Cries of joy from those concerned. D’jok, Thran and Ahito hug each other. Mei's mother, radiant, hugs her daughter against her. Sinedd has a superior air, as if to say, “I knew all along”. Tia, moved, holds back a tear. Micro-Ice stands still.

- And the seventh, Clamp? - asks Aarch.

- Wait, I’m having a little transmission problem... here it is!

A seventh face swirls in the air, positioning itself next to the other six: Micro-Ice.

- Whoa! I'm in! – Micro-Ice jumps and runs towards his friends with his arms raised. - You see, I'm part of the team! With you guys! For real, I’m so happy! Well, of course, it’s expected: you can’t do it without me, right?

***

Far away from Akillian, around a large blue star, orbits a beautiful planet that resembles an agate rock with its long bands of multicolored clouds. Surrounded by a belt of asteroids, which risk falling towards the planet. Incidentally, they are also weapons of defense... but no one - except the Humans, once - would dare to wage war against the wise and powerful Lightnings. This gem-like planet is theirs: Xzion.

Within the crown of satellites there is one that is not a weapon, but a meeting place. It is a vast sphere, connected with alveoli which contain many micro-environments and micro-climates, allowing to welcome the most varied forms of life.

It is the meeting place of the Flux Society.

In the center of the sphere slowly rotates a miniature replica of the Galaxy in which flash, like tiny fireflies, all the worlds that have a delegated member of the Flux Society. One of them sparkles stronger than the others: it is Akillian.

The alveoli are for the moment deserted, but they can be occupied very quickly, by physical beings or their virtual representations, as soon as the Flux Society is summoned.

This is what will happen in any moment, as a disembodied voice rings out, rolling its echoes across the vast sphere:

- Members of the Flux Society must assemble immediately: the Breath of Akillian has manifested!