Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1) (15 page)

     From that moment on she showed Max more respect, and although they were to train apart, they got together for their evening meal and sat up that night telling each other stories about growing up on Azul, and as they talked they found they had much more in common than they had ever imagined before. She was still reticent about calling him anything except Gunnarsson, but as the evening passed she found herself a bit more comfortable around the odd, yet kind scientific commander.
(*12*)
 

     Max had completely lost control of his humanity when fighting in the mock battle with Jennie, and it took a good day for him to stop feeling like he was a potential axe murderer. As Jennie had to continue with her sword training, she was placed with Ohiro, the man who had trained Max. She also switched to the katana of which Max was so fond, and found it to be a superior weapon, especially when combined with athletic maneuvers. In fact, after witnessing the mock battle, roughly half the warriors in the castle sought to train with katanas, so impressive was the sword-type.
     Max reported to a dungeon for his next phase of lycan training, which he found odd, as he believed lycan skills training would happen out in the open. He had absolutely no idea what was in store, nor what these skills were.
     His trainer was a woman named Alea, who was, of course, also lycan. She was roughly five years older than him, yet had a subdued beauty that, although not as striking as Jennie’s, was still formidable. They greeted briefly, and the woman was completely professional in her approach to the training, starting off by detailing the myriad of lycan abilities, some of which Max did not quite envision at first.
     Of course, a lycan had enhanced strength, and three transformational modes, if one counted their normal, everyday state, which was called
day form
. Of the other two modes, Max had already experienced one,
battle form
, and it was critical that he learn to master it so he would be able to maintain self-control while exercising his immensely enhanced strength. The other mode was that of
death form
, or werewolf (also called phase 3). He would transform into a raging beast, running on all fours and attacking anything and anyone in his vicinity. This would only happen for a few hours every lunar cycle, during the full moon - the reason for this would be explained to him at a later time by Draagh, who apparently knew a whole lot more about this world than he was letting on. The lycans also had incredibly sensitive noses and razor-sharp vision, even in darkness. They were also able to change the light spectrum that they would see at night, going to a mode that was virtually the same as infrared.
     Max was strapped down, shirtless, into a chair, and was told to look at some writing on the wall facing him. He was required to read this while being goaded into an agitated state, which would cause his transformation into his battle form.
     What he didn’t realize, until it happened, was that she was going to beat him quite severely as he sat bound to his chair. When he started to read the script, which was the oath of office for lycan commanders, she punched him in the face – hard. Max was shocked at first, but Alea unapologetically ordered him to continue reading. As he did so, she punched him again, and followed up by taking a cat-o-nine tails whip and striking him across his bare shoulder. This caused him to fly into a state of rage, the sudden onset of this resulting in his canines growing longer, his nails converting to claws on both his hands and feet, and for hair to grow on his body in places where it did not previously exist. His limbs also elongated slightly, giving him more run and reach range, and of course his metabolism shot through the roof.
     It took him roughly two hours of being beaten by the lovely lycan female until he was able to read the commander’s oath and maintain himself in the battle form, while keeping his logic and reason. However, the one thing that he did not expect was something he saw in the upper-left corner of his field of vision. It appeared to be an organic readout, with four horizontal lines – the line at the top was blood-red, the second one vein-blue, the third one down was a brilliant green, and the bottom one yellow in color. This apparition flashed in and out of his field of vision, but the longer he could control his state, the more stable this readout became.
     After explaining what he saw, Alea detailed to him that these were his vital readouts. The top three were health, strength, and stamina, respectively, but she had no knowledge of any yellow line, and assumed it had something to do with his genetic abilities as a mage. It was critical that he monitored these three lines during battle, because if even one tanked he could pass out. When a lycan went into battle form, his or her metabolism jumped through the roof, and this also meant that his system would consume resources at a much higher rate. If he were to be hit too much, his red health line would decrease, and likewise, if he were to expend too much energy, then his green stamina line would shrink. His strength line was mostly affected by a combination of decreases in stamina and health, so if he were to lose his blue line he would, for all intents and purposes, be powerless.

     Jennie had no difficulty at all mastering her battle state. In fact, she was one of the quickest studies ever in the recorded history of the Rhönen Dominion. While it was true that female lycans tended to be more adept at self-control, Jennie set a new standard upon which to complete this training, doing so in conjunction with her sword and battle efforts, which went along smoothly.
     By day three of her training she had mastered the art of the katana, and was working on ancient martial arts, while Max was just mastering being able to enter into his battle state at will (and also without being savagely beaten by Alea). He was also able see his readout, which he called his HUD, after the head’s up display in his helmet he had left back on The Machu Picchu, and to simultaneously read ancient manuscripts and have calm discussions with his teacher. As his training was so intense, he burned through tens of thousands of calories, so he was required to eat eleven meals during each training session. Alea purposefully had him skip meals, and on more than one occasion actually forced him to drop into a light coma, from which she awakened him with a quick nourishment drink, administered by shoving a tube through his mouth and down into his stomach. After one of these occurrences, he awoke to find himself with his head on her lap, with the woman calmly stroking his dark hair.
     Looking up, groggy and trying to adjust his vision, he saw her look down as she softly asked, “Max, is that girl you fought – is she your mate?”
      “Um, no. I mean, yes – no, she is not. I kind of wish that could be a possibility, but she doesn’t care much for me. Why do you ask?”
     Alea took her thumb and forefinger and gently rubbed the outer edges of his ear (lycan ears being incredibly sensitive to the touch), while telling him how the local leader of the vampires, Vladros, killed her mate in battle. Her husband, 3
rd
Captain Morgus, was an experienced and highly-valued leader in the Dominion, but he was sadly betrayed by a lycan who had allied himself with the ghouls, and had led her husband into a trap. This made Max feel sad for her loss, as he was an emotional sort, which was a rarity for scientists, and the probable cause for him losing his temper during the mock battle with Jennie.
      “Max, my dear young student,” she continued, “As our sessions here are near an end, please know that you can count on me for anything. Any questions, please call on me, and if you have any needs, such as the comfort of the company of a woman, you only need ask.”
     Max gulped and nodded awkwardly.
     After completing the third day, Max was approached by Draagh, who said that they would begin an introductory course in the ways of magic. Max was relatively excited about this, although he was longing to train with Jennie some more, now that he was certain he wouldn’t suddenly turn into a homicidal maniac.
     That evening, as the three were eating their supper and the two youths were excitedly recounting stories of their training, Draagh informed Jennie that once Max was done with his magical training he would also teach her some magic.
     Max looked at Draagh and said, “Hey pops, didn’t you say that Jennie wasn’t a mage?”
      “I did indeed say that, did I not? But as we go on, my son, you will learn that there are magical objects, and that they can be handled by non-mages who have received training in their various uses. It will be necessary for Jennie to have knowledge of these things.”
     Jennie smiled at Draagh, and then Max a cocky grin, believing that he wouldn’t have that much more knowledge than him when this was all done.

     As they sat there talking about Jennie’s favorite training, which was the ancient Japanese art of karate, Alea strolled by and leaned down, whispering something inaudible in Max’s ear. He looked at his compatriots, and noticed that Jennie’s face contorted slightly, but she regained her composure immediately, hoping that he didn’t notice. Max blushed a brilliant shade of red, blood filling his cheeks.
      “Thank you, Alea. I appreciate it, and I’ll…I’ll let you know.”
     Draagh had a mildly surprised look and said, “Max, it does appear that you have gained the admiration of someone, hmm?”
     Max turned away from the two in an attempt to hide his blushing face, when Jennie abruptly stood up and strolled over to a table filled with men who were all having an animated and lively discussion regarding the proper way to behead vampires. Two of them scooted to either side, making room for her to sit down. Once she was placed at the table she turned back to see both Draagh and Max with shocked expressions on their faces. She then casually turned back to her new tablemates and accepted a shot glass of some sort of distilled liquor, joining in their merry festivities.
     Draagh looked at his grandson, studying the young man’s face and said “My boy, fret not. This is what women do when they become jealous.” Max simply grabbed a piece of cold beef and started gnawing on it, and what amazed Draagh the most was not that Max was perturbed by Jennie’s actions, but that he was actually eating with his hands.
     The following morning Max woke up and looked out the window of his bedchambers, watching the rain drop gently from the sky. It rained frequently in that part of the world, but they had been rather lucky to arrive at a time when it was dry outside. Battle training in the mud generally took longer. Dressing into his training clothes, he exited his room, only to see Jennie sitting on the ground outside her door. She looked and smelled like she was hung over from the booze she drank the night before, so he approached her, figuring she was in a significant amount of pain. Max was one to always think of others, and most certainly so in Jennie's case.
      “Jennie, are you ok? Do you need anything?”
      “Why would I need anything from you?” she blurted out, jumping up, storming into her room and slamming the door behind her.
     Max didn’t have much experience with girls, but this was something most men never figured out. Knocking lightly on the door, he said, “Jennie, is it ok? Can I come in? Look, I’m your friend. At least I would like to think I am.”
     She opened the door for him, a melancholy look lining her face. Then, after allowing him to enter her room, she suddenly started beating him in the chest with her clenched fists, poking and punching him out of total frustration.
      “Who the Hell do you think you are, Gunnarsson? You steal our most advanced technology, simply fly off to Earth where you meet this weird old wizard, and then practically kidnap me, taking me to some place full of dog people in the middle of future nowhere! To make it worse, you beat me in battle. You bastard! You’re just a science dweeb! Yes, you can do all these things and it’s so hard for me! So hard!”
     She began to sob, dropping to her knees right in front of Max, head hung low, and most probably throbbing in pain due to the unfiltered libations she had consumed the night before.
     Max kneeled down and gently lifted her head by her chin, looking into her beautiful, tear-filled eyes.
      “Jennie, what is it? How have I wronged you? We aren’t here to compete with each other – we’re here to learn so we can go back to Azul and kill the Vrol. Didn’t you watch the vids on them? They are patently evil, and our planet will die if we - and that is
both
you and me - don’t get our acts together and learn everything possible.”
     With that, she rested her face on his shoulder, wetting the fabric of his tunic with her tears. He had never seen her cry like this, and it killed him inside. Still, having her so close caused an intense, warm sensation that filled his empty stomach.
     Standing up, he gently took her under her arms and lifted her, and then brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Hey Jennie, come with me and let’s go learn some magic. You’re already awesome with swords. We can do this together, and if there’s some way you can learn more I’ll be there for you, ok?”
     She nodded, making one of her famous pouty faces, and they both left her room. Once in the hallway, Max said, “Draagh has an excellent hangover cure. Would you like one?”
     She nodded her head enthusiastically and said, “Don’t EVER let me drink that shit again, ok?”
      “Ok,” he said, and smiled as they walked down the hallway.
     Many hundreds of kilometers away, in a decrepit, disintegrating castle that was barely held together by earthen cement and the blood of unfortunate, murdered lycans, three pale, grotesquely twisted soldiers, all dressed in dried-out black leather, half-carried/half-dragged a man into the dank, musty antechambers on the first level. Rotten, gangrenous patches of skin hung from his exposed muscular tissue, having nearly been completely burnt off from overexposure to the sun. He appeared to be dead at first glance. The apparent leader of this group cautiously approached his king.
      “My lord, we found this in the western forest, near a clearing. He is vampire, though he does not yet understand his change.”
     Lord Vladros sat behind a massive, gothic desk, and looked at the wretched creature that had just been dragged inside.