The Enlightened (Mind Dimensions #3)(19)

“I won’t kill you, if that’s what you’re worried—“

“Why don’t you ask Paul?” I figure I might need another favor from Caleb some day, and if he doesn’t figure it out by then, I can trade this info for it. Then again, if we’re about to fight, do I really want to antagonize him?

“Maybe I will,” he says and stands in a semi-familiar stance. “A deal’s a deal. I’ll hold my punches, but you don’t have to.” As he says this, he punches me in the shoulder, lightning-fast. He definitely isn’t using his full strength, but it still hurts when his fist connects with my body. “You were about to block that with your right elbow, but walking out of it would’ve been more effective,” he instructs.

He throws more punches and gives me feedback on my responses to them. He claims I’m getting the hang of it, and maybe I am, but if I ever needed to fight Caleb for real, I’d still be pretty hopeless. I rarely manage to block his punches and land few of my own.

“You ready for the shooting part?” he asks after I’m barely moving from fatigue. We’ve been practicing hand-to-hand combat for what feels like a number of hours. “I’ll give you some more combat tips after. It’s good to take a break now and then.”

Pushing aside my exhaustion, I follow him and help carry the guns and ammo from his room and out of the Temple, as Caleb insists on shooting in the forest.

“You see that frozen-in-time bird?” He points to a hawk in the far distance. “I want you to hit it.”

I point the gun, a revolver he handed to me, and take careful aim.

Then I take the shot. The bird remains untouched.

“Don’t feel bad for the bird,” he teases. “You won’t really kill it.”

“Being an * wasn’t part of the deal,” I tell him. Truth be told, I’ve always had an aversion to hunting. His reminder that no animals will be harmed actually does help.

“You have to pull the trigger on your exhale,” he says. “Place the front sight blade on the target, and then place the front blade in between the valley back sights.”

“Next you’ll be telling me to pull the trigger,” I say, but do as he instructed. The exhale thing must’ve helped, because the bird falls to the ground.

“Now try shooting that squirrel,” he says, and then spends a few minutes explaining how to spot my new target between all the branches.

Many bullets and forest creatures later, I tire of the lessons. My shooting has improved, but of course it would, after so many subjective hours of practice.

A different problem becomes apparent now: patience is not my virtue. There’s only so much shooting and fighting I can do before going crazy. My plan to kill time until Paul runs out of Depth has been revealed as the pleasant delusion it was. No matter how much of his Depth is depleted, Paul still has plenty left to outwait me in my worried-about-Mom state.

“All right,” I say after the last shot. “I’m ready to head back.”

“Why don’t you run and try shooting a few things along the way?” Caleb suggests.

I perform the final exercise as he said, shooting, among other things, a couple of barely noticeable beetles and a bat. I’m definitely getting better at this.

“Do you want to spar some more?” Caleb asks once we’ve returned to the dojo field by the guesthouse.

“Sure,” I say, deciding to give Paul one last chance to run out of Depth. Might as well take advantage of Caleb thinking he owes me.

We go at it until I actually lose track of time. Caleb’s feedback gets progressively less snarky and more genuine. I must be improving.

“Okay. I’ve had enough. Time to face the music,” I say when he throws me to the ground for the millionth time. “I think I’ll go tell them that I’ll do this thing with Julia.”

“Let me give you one piece of advice,” Caleb says, giving me his hand to help me to my feet—the first time that’s happened.

“Please do,” I say. “Unless it’s of the ‘how to’ variety.”

He laughs. “No, though I’m sure I could teach a mini person like you a thing or two in that department.” He chuckles. “I was going to say, you should let Julia hear about this shit from you. Better chance it all goes smoothly later.”

This is probably good advice, though it’ll be one super-uncomfortable conversation. “Thanks,” I say.

“Sure. If you need me, I’ll be reading in my room. Thanks to you, I’ve had enough exercise.”

As I watch Caleb walk away, I think about his advice some more. Talking to Julia—there is something to it. What if my contingency plan doesn’t work? It might be worth having a backup, and she might be of help in that regard. Also, my contingency relies on me looking as though I’m going through with this breeding thing, and if I’m being monitored, talking to Julia would show my good will.

On a whim, cognizant that I’m just delaying my weird confrontation with Julia, I approach one of the monks doing kung fu.

He seems to be the most capable of the bunch, his frozen movements reminiscent of a lion or a cobra about to strike. I put my hand on his wrist and enter the Coherence state.





*





Strike. Breathe. Strike. Breathe.