Dr. Randolph paced back and forth. "The most critical lesson to remember is you are not protecting yourself; you are protecting your partner. You make sure your partner is safe at all times. Don't worry about your back. If you stick to that rule, your partner's already got it covered." His thin hair barely covered the crown of his head as he swept the strands over the hairless spots. He made eye contact with everyone before he called out, "Squad six. Let's see what you've got."

The room filled with the noise of rustling as everyone stood back, allowing the two-person squad to enter the playing field. It wasn't until each of them stood in the center of the brightly lit room that I realized Tamara was a member. The black and gold suit she wore clung to her thin body and complemented her deep mocha complexion. Her partner, Shelly, wore her hair in a tight bun atop her head in order to prepare for combat, something they preferred all the women to do during training.

"State your squad name." Dr. Randolph clasped his hands behind his back as he paced.

"Squad Chameleon, sir," their voices rang out in unison.

"Chameleon..." He nodded as if he approved of the name. "Begin!"

His husky voice bounced off the walls as the lights went down, briefly cloaking us all in darkness. A holographic cage surrounded the duo. The crisscrossed neon bars lit up the room in a bright yellow glow. With their backs facing each other, the girls crouched, preparing, watching, sensing. The braids in Tamara's hair hung too far past her shoulders, making her an easy target if someone wanted to grab ahold of her.

A brief crackle of electricity cut through the air, and two large figures morphed into the form of men at the far end of the battling field. Estimating the probable size and weight of the forms, in my head, I quickly calculated how fast they would travel at the given distance. The girls had five-point-five seconds to figure out a strategy.

Tamara called out, "On the right. Obturator, peroneal."

As soon as the figure to the right was near, Shelly rammed her palm into its abdominals then stomped high above the thigh with a flat foot. The figure buckled, fell to the ground, and disintegrated into glowing dust before completely disappearing. Tamara tried the same move on her target, but the figure swung before she could stomp the peroneal nerve, and connected with her head, knocking her off balance. A red light suddenly lit up the room. The loud buzz that followed made me jump out of my skin.

I shouldn't have been surprised. Tamara was better at thinking than fighting. The holographic cage disappeared and the regular lights came back on.

"Fuck." Even though Tamara mumbled, the word was just as apparent as her disappointment.

"Cadet Arnold, watch the language," Dr. Randolph warned.

"Shit. Sorry, sir." Tamara glanced at me. I sensed her embarrassment when our gazes locked for a split second before she left the center of the playing field. The side of her head where contact had been made left no visible sign of trauma, as it shouldn't. The simulations were more energy than material. The sensation of contact within the hologram was psychological and not direct.

Dr. Randolph continued to pace. He called two more squads, who were successful, before announcing, "Next. Squad four, enter the field and state your squad name."

I glanced to Vince. Vince nodded confidently and entered the field first. His posture was impeccable, shoulders back, spine lengthened. It made him appear even taller and stronger. Or was it his confidence that conveyed that image? Either way, his attractive swagger and poise influenced my confidence as I followed him into the battling field.

Vince cleared his throat. "Squad Titan, sir."

A faint snicker emitted from behind me, but I refused to turn and publicly acknowledge it. Besides, I needed to focus on the task at hand.

"Begin!"

Without a second lost, the darkness swallowed the lights, and then the holographic cage appeared around us. Use your peripheral, I reminded myself. I've seen enough battles in the cage to know the targets didn't always appear in front of you.

The quick crackle of static electricity buzzed in my left ear. As soon as my palm landed in the center of the form's blank face, my hand tingled a bit from the dense air of energy, and the massive figure dropped. I didn't have a chance to watch it fizzle to a glowing pile of dust because to the right another appeared. It was taller than Vince, and its size suggested its weight was approximately two hundred and fifty pounds. To take him down, Vince needed to ... go for the nuts. "The groin," I shouted, still in my stance.

The heel of Vince's foot met its target and the form dropped to its knees. However, its left arm swung. With adrenaline guiding my instincts, it took a split second for me to rush over and push Vince out of the way of impact. The form's blow missed, but my foot didn't as I forced the side of my thick-soled shoe against its ulna. The arm broke first, without the sound of a crack, and soon the entire figure disintegrated into tiny bright pixels. Then my eyes registered the jarring red hue surrounding us.

What? We failed! Why? I hadn't even heard the buzz.

I stared at the cluster of cadets surrounding the cage, staring at Vince as he lay on the padded floor. His bottom half lay on this side of the holographic cage still connected to his upper half on the other side of the neon bars.

Fuck!

Thankfully, they hadn't upped the ante by turning the beams of the cage into real surgical lasers. Something I'd frequently imagined, which horrified me, but was only a fear.

Dr. Randolph nodded, but he wasn't impressed. The blasé expression on his face said it all. "Way to have each other's back." He huffed. "But that wasn't exactly showing your shit. Now was it, Cadet Nichols?"

The word shit registered, but the urge to laugh wasn't there. And of course he would call me out, use me as an example. I was supposed to be advanced, and show why he'd promoted me and make him proud. Instead, I'd probably made him second-guess his decision. I sure didn't feel so advanced now.

Fuck!

After each squad had their turn, I waved goodbye to Vince, refusing to be in his company shortly after embarrassing myself and probably humiliating him in front of everyone. He left without question or hesitation, confirming my fear. As I was about to leave the room Dr. Randolph stopped me.

"Cadet Nichols," he called. "Let me speak to you for a second." He eyed the door Vince had just exited, as if he could sense the disappointment left behind by his leaving. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

"No, sir." There was nothing more important than talking to Dr. Randolph. I made my way over, and stood at attention when mere feet separated us.

The desolate room took on an eerie silence, and the way he studied me left me with gooseflesh and a slight shudder. I rarely felt this way when talking to him, but seeing that I publicly failed him after supposedly showing my shit, the feeling was justified. The same sensation chilled my bones when thinking of the toxic air on the outside and all the people it had consumed, and that sense of dread was something I fought often.

He cocked his head. "I see you hold some fascination with the legends of Refuge Inc., hmm?"'

"Sure." I nodded. We all were familiar with the legends and held some kind of interest in them, some more than others. "I think they're great stories, true or not."

"Not." He shook his head slowly as he scratched the few strands of hair nesting near his temple. "The stories are just that, stories, altered by a bunch of conspiracy theorists. The truth is not as glamorous, I assure you."

"How so, sir?" My gut did a somersault as I stifled my excitement, or at least tried to, but I suspected he saw through it. Was he going to tell me something I didn't know about Refuge Inc. and its origins? Was there more to the story than what Dad had told me?

"Adam and Elliot did love that dog, indeed." Dr. Randolph pushed his lenses further up on his nose. "But what differs from the story that has become popular, the story you were probably told, is that they loved each other much more."

"Really?" I scratched the patch of hairs near my temple as Dr. Randolph had. Why is he telling me this?

"How does that make you feel?"

I shrugged. Given the facilities laws against same sex copulation, I knew not to feel too much publicly. Although it was interesting to learn that my heroes were also rebels, I knew better than to admit my growing fascination with their apparent love story. "I feel odd ... I guess."

"Honestly?" Dr. Randolph mimicked my put-on reaction. Did his innards do a weird flip too?

"I think it's ..." what's the word? "It's fascinating to know that kind of love existed back then." Confident with my explanation, I added, "Maybe Adam and Elliot's love for each other was what helped them survive the first impact. Wouldn't that be something?"

"Absolutely." A worn and slightly crooked smile appeared on Dr. Randolph's lips. "What's your age, again?"

"My twenty-first birthday is next month, sir." What did my age have to do with my answer?

"You're eighteen months younger than my son."

"Yes, sir." Vince and I had celebrated more birthdays with each other than alone or with anyone else. My parents hadn't even celebrated as many birthdays together within the facility, but it wasn't my parents' fault. They were dead. The outside toxins took them both. Mom when I was five. That year, the door leading to the surface closed to protect everyone inside from the effects of impact, and later that year, airborne toxins somehow took over the upper floors during an airlock breach. Most of the details were classified, and I barely remember Mom, or either significant event. The toxins took Dad later, when I was twelve. My memory assures me that one day he hugged me, told me he loved me, left, and never came back. I've gotten bits of detail over the years and saw the official statement of his death a couple years ago. The statement mentioned him going on a mission to the surface to find a living plant. Things were different from that day forward. The threat of contamination grew real for me as I found myself constantly living and dreaming the fear.

"I'd like to hear more about your thoughts on Refuge Inc." Dr. Randolph's posture stiffened. "Are you familiar with their evolving techniques?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded enthusiastically, unable to control my excitement. "The way they trained their cadets-I mean, they called them enforcers." Here was my chance to show what I knew and ensure Dr. Randolph that he hadn't made a mistake promoting me after all.

"Right." Dr. Randolph nodded. "But what details are you aware of?"

"Not much, but that it was a success." I searched his face for approval that he was pleased.

"A tremendous success." Dr. Randolph stared for a few seconds. "Why don't you come by my workroom tomorrow? Bring Vince and we'll discuss the legend in more depth. What do you think?"

I couldn't stop the smile from stretching my lips, and I didn't want to. "That sounds great. Thank you, sir." Immediately Dad came to mind. I remember being just as excited when he told me stories of Refuge Inc. Now I'd get to hear more about it from one of the best doctors and ex-military men in the hemi. The best part was he claimed to know "the truth."

~~~

Curious about the legends of Refuge Inc.?