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  Terrana nodded.

  “We are weavers and we use our internal qi to speak with the qi around us. The way our bodies synchronise with qi is more enhanced than lacers, allowing us to manipulate qi directly. Lacers, on the other hand, rely on a medium to concentrate and manipulate qi. The effect of this method is that whatever they do with the qi lasts much longer. For instance —”

  Mikin suddenly found himself floating in the air, held by an invisible force that spun him around gently. The other students began to laugh.

  “Raising Mikin is like me physically reaching out to pick up a cup. There are different ways I can do this — I can extend my qi out to him and lift him, or I communicate with the qi around him to do it for me.” He returned Mikin to his chair. “But no matter what method I use, you saw I had to provide my immediate attention. I was in touch with my qi the whole time. If I had not returned Mikin to his chair, he would have fallen. A lacer, however, could have left Mikin in the air and walked away, and he would have stayed there until the lacer decided to bring him down. They achieve this through the use of spells.”

  “Eh?” Terrana was pretty sure that spells were used by witches and wizards in storybooks, not by aliens in outer space!

  “The medium they use, for instance a wand or a ring, synchronises the lacer’s mind with their qi in a way that we cannot. A binding is created between the qi and the lacer’s thoughts — thoughts being instructions. As weavers, we can pass only our will down to our qi. Lacers pass instructions as well as their will.

  “My original will was to raise Mikin, which I did. A lacer’s original will is also to lift Mikin, but the instruction he or she passes down is to leave him hanging in the air.”

  “But doesn’t that change the type of qi they have?” asked Terrana “They created a qi superior to ours.”

  Master Drummik nodded. “Not necessarily superior although in this example it appears that way. Qi has many properties, not all of them known to us. Weavers have many ways of applying it and, even now, we are still trying to learn all its possibilities.”

  “So really, how qi is used is unique to every individual,” said Terrana, her mind on fire. “We can learn some properties, but others, no matter how hard we try, we may never understand.”

  “Correct.”

  “Do lacers’ spells last forever?”

  “No. An hour at the most by the strongest lacers and then they disperse.”

  “Can they cast spells without their wands or rings or whatever it is they use as mediums?”

  Master Drummik was beginning to regret encouraging her with the questions. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough time to finish his lesson on mnemonic techniques. Terrana was asking the sort of questions the other students had not been bright enough to think about, but now they wanted to know the answers. “Only the most powerful lacers can. That is when the line between weavers and lacers begins to fade.”

  He could see she was digesting this information, committing it to memory. Her hunger for knowledge was strong, which was good. It complemented her qi level, which measured two hundred quinces and was still rising. That was three times higher than any student in her year. The longer students trained to use their qi, the higher it would rise until their bodies reached their maximum potential. Terrana’s qi levels had begun rising the day Baneyon had removed her from Sector Thirteen, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the sector had not acted as a cage for her abilities.

  The bell rang.

  “Don’t forget that tomorrow we’ll be focusing on telekinetic movement and particle manipulation, so be sure to have lots of rest tonight. You’ll need your energy.”

  Everyone groaned. Their next class was PT, which would leave them in such agony they would not be able to sleep that night. So how were they supposed to be fresh enough to work on their qi the next day? They asked Master Drummik to postpone the telekinetic class, but their entreaties fell on deaf ears. Apparently, that was their problem, not his.

  16

  The art of Kampu

  Excited voices echoed over the lake as dozens of students cheered on their favourite competitor. “Smack her!” “Knock her down!” they yelled while looking up at two girls leaping across a network of rubber coated poles that rose from the water. Each pole was about thirty centimetres in diameter and they were laid out in an evenly spaced, five-by-twenty grid. Long knotted ropes hung over the poles, and, a metre or so above the ropes, a large motorised, brass gong continuously circled the grid. The ropes were held up by anti-gravity hooks.

  Terrana failed to avoid her opponent’s sweeping staff; she winced as it connected with her calves, throwing her off balance. She fell backwards. Her body flipped a hundred and eighty degrees, and she stretched out all four limbs to catch the surrounding poles.

  Extended like the spokes of a bicycle, Terrana found herself staring facedown into the lake. A split second slower, she would have fallen six metres into the icy water. Moving quickly, she pulled herself onto the left pole in front of her and stood straight once more.

  “C’mon Terrana! You can do it!” screamed Mikin from the sidelines. He was all pumped up, cheering his friend on in the hope that she would tire Misa out enough before it was his turn to face her. They both knew he didn’t stand a chance against Misa.

  “Dirty Earth girl is gonna go down!” hissed Misa, waving her staff about dangerously.

  “Bite me!” snapped Terrana. It wasn’t just students from her class and Misa’s who were watching them; Lorn and his group were present, as well as students from other classes, none of whom she recognised. In short, there were a lot of people watching her match.

  Both girls wore wetsuits, which exposed their arms and calves. Misa wore the colours of her class; purple. Terrana sported red.

  “I heard that Earth people flush their waste into the land and sea, before eating everything that comes out of it!” Misa sneered.

  Down came her staff. Terrana blocked it and thrust her own staff into the older girl’s face. It was parried easily and Misa kicked out at Terrana as she yelled, “Garbage from a waste planet!”

  Terrana twisted and jumped to the next pole, swinging her staff over her shoulder as she did so. “Muck from cleaning the domes under water must have clogged your mouth!” she barked. “It smells like crap.”

  Misa leapt forwards and swung her staff over her head, bringing it down on Terrana. Parries, strikes, thrusts and kicks — this was Kampu training. The rules of Kampu were simple — the first person to hit the gong was the winner. The only problem was that both competitors had to fight their way to it.

  Falling into the water didn’t necessarily mean that the competitor had lost. There was always a chance that they could scale the poles in time to stop their opponent. However, many of the first-year students weren’t strong enough to do this, so they lost.

  But if there was one thing Terrana possessed, it was physical strength. Weeks of training had sharpened her mind and strengthened her body. Although she was younger than Misa, Terrana had been able to hold her own for a while in all their matches, but the older girl had always overcome her eventually.

  “The water used to be clean before you got here!” snarled Misa, bringing down her staff.

  Terrana blocked the frontal attack, pivoted her body and kicked out with her right leg at Misa’s stomach. The older girl avoided the kick and grabbed the ropes above. She had spotted the gong approaching and sensing an opportunity, she swung monkey-style towards the intersection point, while clutching the staff between her knees. It was the only way to reach the gong, but Terrana refused to let her get that far. She leapt from pole to pole to get ahead of Misa and scrambled up the ropes. The race to the gong had begun.

  “Get out of my way!” snarled Misa. She tossed up her staff, catching it with one hand. Then winding the rope around her leg, she executed a series of overhead and side-attacks on Terrana.

  “Make me!” retorted Terrana, ignoring the excruciating pain in her arms as she blocked the
aggressive strikes.

  “You’re nothing but faecal matter!” Misa punched Terrana in the shoulder, sending her into a spin.

  “And you’re a bottom feeder!” screamed Terrana as she fought to regain control of the rope. “Try to leave some plankton for the real fish!”

  Their vicious fighting styles combined with exchanged insults captivated the crowd below. There were other matches taking place but none appeared as interesting as the match between Minda Yerra’s rising Kampu champion and the girl from Sector Thirteen.

  Mikin hovered on his disc above the water, looking on anxiously. He glanced at his watch — ten minutes had passed since they had begun.

  “Her longest by far,” said Zaduru, who was hovering next to him. “What is it about Terrana that she gets better and better?”

  Mikin didn’t know how to answer that. He had his own questions that required answers but, for the time being, he yelled his support from the sidelines. “C’mon Terrana! You can do it! Knock her into the lake!”

  “Yu musst be joking if yu think sshe can beat Missa.”

  Mikin glanced at the newcomer in surprise. Mawuk, the Lizonian boy who had taken pictures of the ice-phoenixes aboard the junk, hovered next to him.

  “She can,” said Mikin stubbornly, flapping his ears before bellowing through his trunk.

  “Are we talking about Terrana here?” called out someone else. Mikin beamed as he saw Lorn, Bindal, and Bagruth approaching. They zoomed over on their anti-grav discs, pushing their way through the first-years to reach Mikin.

  “Yo litle fend hia thinkss the theteenth welda can beat Missa. She hass no chanss!”

  Mikin scowled at him. “Yes she can! It’s been ten minutes and she’s still holding!”

  “How does she do it?” said Bindal, her antennae twitching rapidly as she watched the fighting girls.

  Lorn whistled. “Tenacity, Bindal. Terrana’s full of it.” His eyes swept over the crowd and came to rest on one particular person on the other side of the grid, hovering a little behind everyone else. His mood soured instantly. “What is he doing here?”

  Mikin spotted the person Lorn was referring to and groaned. Tall, handsome, athletic, and watching Terrana’s match intently was Prince Gil Ra Im. Mikin was surprised that he had come to observe the match — he wasn’t known to mingle with the other students.

  Moreover, he knew Lorn couldn’t stand him. Lorn’s loathing had begun from the time the prince had demanded that Terrana compensate him for his coat. To make matters worse, the prince was also in Lorn’s class and a rivalry had sprung up between them. A rivalry that was very one sided in Mikin’s opinion.

  The prince outclassed Lorn in nearly every subject, from highly specialised areas of atomic and molecular physics, mathematics, and engineering to generalised subjects like sociology and language studies. The prince particularly excelled at Kampu — a talent that contributed considerably to Lorn’s umbrage. Lorn would have been lucky if he could even get his staff to brush against the prince’s feet.

  “Maybe he’ll ask Terrana to pay for his coat?” said Bagruth.

  Lorn shook his head. “That would be beneath him.”

  “Perhaps he’s just curious about Terrana like everyone else,” suggested Bindal. “He may have heard she’s from Sector Thirteen.”

  “Possible,” muttered Lorn. “You didn’t tell Terrana that he rescued her, did you?”

  Bindal shook her head. “No, although I don’t understand why you won’t tell her. She’s been wanting to return the coat for a while now, and sooner or later she’ll figure it out.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Bindal pulled a face. “Because she remembers throwing up on some flying animal! She’s planning to go to the stables soon.”

  Lorn scowled. “Where does she keep his coat?”

  “Lorn!” Bindal gave him a reprimanding look. “You’re not thinking of stealing it, are you?”

  Lorn shrugged. “Of course not. I’d rather burn it!”

  Refereeing the girls’ match was the tall and powerful Headmistress Marl. Her thick mane of red hair stood out in the crowd and her cat-eyes glinted dangerously in the sunlight as she watched the girls closely. A thought touched her mind — it was Master Drummik attempting to reach her via mindspeak.

  How is she doing?

  Better. She improves every day. Her strength exceeds that of a human child from her world.

  And Misa?

  As always, she fights with her heart but she can see it too — the improvement in Terrana. It’s scaring her. Drummik, I believe Sector Thirteen acted as a lock on her abilities. We removed a young girl from her cage.

  It occurred to me also.

  What if there was a reason she was locked in?

  Headmistress Marl was interrupted by the girls’ shouting.

  “I don’t eat make-up!” screamed Misa in reply to an insult from Terrana.

  “Why not? It might make you prettier. Might!”

  Headmistress Marl was honestly surprised by Terrana’s ability to provoke an undesired response, causing the older girl to abandon her cool. In her rage she lunged for Terrana, sacrificing her rope completely. The move was so unexpected that Terrana didn’t have time to defend herself. Misa’s weight dragged her down and she was forced to let go of the rope.

  It was a long drop and there were two loud splashes followed by an equally loud gasp from the crowd. The girls resurfaced and it was clear to everyone that the match was far from over. Misa and Terrana struggled violently, taking turns to dunk each other before the older girl broke free, swimming to the nearest pole. She almost succeeded in reaching the top of the pole when Terrana burst through the water and frog-leaped up the pole. Years of climbing coconut trees helped. Her hand clamped around Misa’s foot.

  “Take back what you said about my dress!”

  “Cheap, ugly, and primitive like you!” screamed Misa.

  The crowd groaned as the girls fell back into the water. This time they didn’t resurface. Headmistress Marl followed the action closely, trying to peer through the lake’s glassy surface. When she failed to spot anything, she sighed and called forth her qi. A thin wall of air surrounded her and she slowly sank into the lake.

  The crowd pulled in closer, eager to see what was happening. Some of the older, advanced students wove similar objects to Headmistress Marl’s air-wall and also disappeared into the water.

  “Lorn, what’s going on?” asked Mikin, anxiously. “Why haven’t they come up yet?”

  “Ha! Tewana iss goin down,” said Mawuk, smirking. “She’s no matss for Missa.”

  “MAWUK! I NEED YOU DOWN HERE NOW!” A voice reached out to them from the watery depths of the lake.

  “Eh?” Mawuk looked around wildly.

  “Ooh, too bad for you. You just received a summons from Headmistress Marl,” said Lorn, grinning. “Time for you to get wet!”

  “Wat wud she need me for? I – YAAAAH!”

  The students watched in surprise as Mawuk was dragged into the water by an invisible hand.

  “I wonder who’s going down now,” said Lorn in a sarcastic tone.

  “But what does she want with him?” asked Mikin.

  That was exactly what Mawuk wanted to know as he stared miserably at Headmistress Marl from the other side of her transparent cocoon. She spoke and her voice carried clearly through the water, delivering the words directly to his ears.

  “Take as many pictures as you can of the girls. Keep them within a five-metre radius of your sight at all times.”

  Mawuk indicated he wished to do it from the dry confines of her cocoon.

  “No, I may obstruct your view. You need to swim around them.”

  Mawuk’s face fell — he hated taking pictures under water. He had to release one of his many eye membranes to form a special lens that caused his eyes to engorge. It was thicker than his other membranes, and once he released it his eyes would not be able to revert to normal for several hours. He flicked his tongue a
nd swam off, his powerful tail acting as a rudder.

  He located the girls easily enough and began snapping pictures. He remembered to include everything within a five-metre radius as instructed, consoling himself with the thought that he could sell the pictures to the highest bidders. Girl fights were always popular with everyone.

  Something large and dark swam by, and Mawuk suddenly got the shivers. As far as he knew, the creatures in this lake were harmless as long as no one bothered them. There were even students from Waterloll living in the lake, so he really had nothing to worry about. However, the ominous feeling remained.

  He returned his attention to the girls and snapped Terrana grabbing Misa with her legs before striking her in the face. That had to be a foul! He took another of Misa yanking on Terrana’s hair followed by a kick to the stomach. Yep, that was definitely a foul.

  The long, dark silhouette of a fish passed above the girls and it was clear enough for Mawuk to distinguish the dorsal and pectoral fins, and a pair of flukes that made up the tail. He tried to spot the actual creature and failed. The silhouette returned, passing under the girls, but neither of them noticed it.

  Mawuk was scared now. Was this the real reason why Headmistress Marl had summoned him? To photograph a shadowy monster in the lake?

  “Mawuk!” The impatience in the headmistress’s voice was all too clear.

  Mawuk snapped rapidly, capturing both the girls and the silhouette while praying he wouldn’t be gobbled up by the shadow monster. Half-a-minute must have passed before he saw a new development. Misa began pulling away from Terrana, attempting to reach the surface. Her movements were sluggish at best, and Mawuk didn’t think she’d make it.

  Thankfully, Headmistress Marl was already heading towards her, but Terrana reached her first. She hooked her hands under Misa’s armpits and kicked for the surface. Mawuk was surprised at how powerful a swimmer she was — she seemed to be lifting Misa through the water effortlessly, bringing her feet down together in a powerful sweep.

  They broke through the surface and Terrana gave Misa a squeeze around the ribs, forcing her to draw a breath. Air was never so sweet! Headmistress Marl also appeared and raised both girls out of the water.