After the Second Fall Pt. 02.1

Pip's head snapped up, as if in shock. "Things are going well with Irena, then?"

"Yeah," Loren replied evasively, "pretty good."

"Glad to hear it. I hope she doesn't give you nearly so many problems as my girls give me."

"It's your own fault," Loren quipped. "Why the hell would you want three?"

Pip held up his hands and shook his head. "I had a lot less to do with it than you might think. Anyway, wanna beat on each other for a while?" Pip asked with a grin.

"Of course," came the response while Loren loosened his shoulders and arms. "Let's start with the short stretching routine I showed you, then we can try something I thought up last night."

The two were soon moving slowly through a series of basic kata, one of Loren's contributions to the Adam program. Pip found that it rapidly warmed up his muscles,was also more challenging than basic stretching, and more enjoyable than plyometrics.

"So what's the idea?" asked Pip as they finished.

"Well, in the Presto fight, you said he tried to kick at you from his back after you crippled his arm."

"Right, but we practice fighting from different positions already."

"Yeah," said Loren, "but not with only one arm."

Pip thought for a moment. "You're right, we don't train for that kind of thing. You're thinking we spar with me only using one arm?"

"Right on the first try, though let's start standing. Maybe this makes it a little more even between us so that it's actually a challenge for you. If that doesn't work, we can handicap you further, maybe tie your knees together or something. Anything to force you to fight from awkward positions."

Pip nodded. "It's a good idea: let's give it a shot."

In their normal training, even using the Effect, Loren couldn't actually land strikes against Pip -- it had been a point of continuing frustration for the smaller Adam, but Pip's control of time was significantly better and his reach longer. This time, with Pip's right arm hanging loose at his side, the two were more evenly matched, and after sparring for half a bell, Loren had landed a couple moderate shots on Pip's 'good' arm.

"Well, I guess that's positive," said Pip. "If I do hurt an arm, maybe I can at least make it to the end."

"Yeah, maybe," Loren responded, "but couldn't you do more? Just now, I know you were entirely defensive, but is it possible to put somebody down with just one arm? Or just one leg?"

Pip thought about it, then shrugged noncommittally. "Let's find out."

After another bell, the results were inconclusive, but encouraging, nonetheless. Pip was pleased with the progress and Loren was thrilled that he had actually managed a glancing blow against Pip's side when the Lead Adam had almost overextended on a punch. Regardless, the two were in high spirits -- meaning Loren wasn't scowling and Pip was actually meeting people's eyes -- as they walked toward the showers.

When they had finished, Pip led Loren back to the Courtyard where they could talk privately, then told him about the plan to meet with Casper Carson. Loren listened, then nodded easily. "Anything you can do to get an edge is worth the effort. If some old-timer can teach you just one thing you don't know, that's worth a dozen conversation, and it sounds like John thinks he can do more than that. Do you think he'd mind if I listened, too?"

"Well," Pip responded hesitantly, "he's pretty skittish." Loren gave him a skeptical look, but Pip nodded in confirmation. "Even more than you were. I'll ask him when we talk this afternoon and see if he's open to it. I don't want to push him too far, too soon."

Loren shrugged his acceptance and the two parted ways, planning to meet up again in the late afternoon for cardio. Figuring Rachel would be along shortly with lunch, Pip took his shirt back off and laid down in the sun.

He was resting comfortably when somebody -- a male somebody with a deep voice -- cleared their throat. Pip opened his eyes and raised his hand to block the sun, then realized it wasn't necessary, because a huge body was already doing it for him.

"Stash?"

"Yeah. What are you doing?"

"Well," Pip said, thinking about a reasonable answer, "exactly what it looks like, I guess: just laying in the sun and waiting for lunchtime."

Stash's eyebrow quirked. "Do you do this every day?"

"No," said Pip, sitting up, then rising to his feet, "just when I feel like it."

"And what does your handler think about this?"

Pip shrugged casually. "If he or my other friends see me taking a nap, they usually join me."

The bigger Adam was quiet for half a hundred beats, face drawn tight. "It occurs to me," he said slowly, "that you and I live very different lives."

Pip smiled good-naturedly. "Join us for lunch?"

Stash nodded distractedly, then snapped back to himself. "Yes. Your assistant invited me yesterday, although I wasn't sure if it was an invitation or an expectation."

"Definitely an invitation. Lunch in the Courtyard started with just the two of us, me and Rachel, then grew. There will probably be a hundred people out here today because of the sunshine." Stash's eyebrows went up in surprise, so Pip nodded and led him over to where the tables were located.

Pip motioned to one of the two Adam-sized stools at the tallest table.

"I have a question for you, Piper."

"Sure, but you can call me Pip."

"Why Pip?" Stash asked, once again surprised.

"I've always been Pip; Piper just sounded better when Director Collins was doing the public relations stuff. Scarier, maybe," he said with a grin.

Stash shook his head. "Stranger and stranger. Speaking of, why did you send your assistant on a wild goose chase yesterday? She seems like a sweet girl to play a prank on."

"I don't know what goose chase means, but it wasn't a joke. She was trying to find Casper Carson, although she didn't tell me until later that it was so hard."

"Casper Carson is a myth, or at least he is now. From what I heard, he must have died two decades ago, something about getting into a fight with his Adam."

Pip paused before replying, then said cautiously, "Keep this between us, but Rachel and I found him, and he agreed to meet with me, but he definitely doesn't like to be around people. I don't know how helpful he will be, but my handler thought some of his experience might be useful."

Stash's mouth was hanging open, which looked comical, given his size. "Do you think he would meet with me, too?" he eventually managed.

Pip gave a short laugh. "My trainer wanted to sit in as well. Let me ask the guy and I'll let you know. If he's okay with it, then so am I -- no reason not to share the knowledge."

Stash sat up straight and scrutinized Pip. "What if something I learn from him is the difference between you and me walking out of a training match?"

"Well," said Pip, mustering his thoughts, "then so be it. If that means that the most skilled Adam goes to the Arena, then it's for the best." Pip smiled, then said a little reluctantly, "But I don't really think that's going to be the case."

Stash shook his head, agreeing with Pip's relatively gentle dismissal. "Me neither, not after what I saw you do in the Quad the other day, but it's the principle. Adams don't help each other. We don't lie in the grass, and we don't share lunch with friends. We eat, we train, we shit, we train, we sleep. Somewhere in there we fight and die. Aside from the occasional visit from a pretty lady in blue, that's it. I don't understand what you're doing or why you're doing it." He shook his head again.

"I'm not sure what to say, other than I'm trying to do the best I can to be the best I can, and I have some friends that have helped me so far." Any further awkwardness was alleviated by Rachel's arrival with the lunch cart. Pip greeted her with a smile and a kiss, while Stash looked on, obviously embarrassed.

The menu of the day was beans and rice, with lots of vegetables and an unidentified meat -- a huge portion for Pip and twice that for Stash. "I asked your trainer," she said to their guest by way of explanation.

Stash looked at Pip questioningly, who smiled around his food and pointed at the stools on which they were sitting. "Yesterday, there was only one big stool here for me.

"You won't really get used to it, but you'll learn to accept that Rachel always seems to know what is going to happen." Rachel shrugged casually and started eating.

John arrived shortly thereafter, finding, as usual, his plate already waiting. "Hello, Stash," he said, shaking the huge man's enormous hand. "Good of you to join us. Pip's doing, or did you get curious?" Before he could reply, Pip pointed his fork at Rachel and John nodded sagely. "Understood."

Maggie and Rosie were next, arriving together, followed by Lilith, who had a meeting run over. As Pip had predicted, all the tables in the Courtyard were soon full, leading latecomers to find seating on the grass. Oddly enough, conversation moved along easily, with Stash simply eating his food and listening to the back-and-forth. When he finally pushed away a second empty plate, John stood up and clapped, earning a rude gesture, followed by laughter around the table -- even Stash smiled.

Rachel produced a kind of fruit tart for dessert, prompting another surprised look from Stash, who then shrugged and tucked into his (double) portion.

As lunch broke up, John motioned for Pip and Stash to stay behind. "Stash, I know it's unusual -- or maybe that's not a strong enough word -- but if I get the go-ahead from Mike, would you be interested in training with Pip?"

Looking for a trap, Stash was reticent to agree. "You mean sparring?"

"Yes, but probably not the way you're thinking. The thing that's bothering me is that Pip is always going to be facing guys your size. When Max was... before Max died, Pip practiced with him every day, so he was used to facing off against a bigger opponent. Loren's doing his best as a trainer, but he's smaller than me, and there's no way for him to duplicate the reach or the strength of the fighters from other cities."

Stash nodded slowly. "Okay, but why not use one of the wash-outs, or one of the retired Adams?"

"There's a reason they don't fight anymore," John said simply.

"I guess, but I don't want to get killed training, and I suspect that's a real possibility with Adams going at each other," he said.

"I understand completely," soothed John. "Why don't you and Mike watch Pip train with Loren and then make a decision. You'll see that you don't have anything to worry about."

"See?" said Stash turning to Pip. "That's what I'm talking about. When has one Adam not had anything to worry about from another Adam? Fucking weird."

Pip shrugged again apologetically, but there was really nothing else to say.

The next morning, as discussed, Stash and his trainer, Mike, met Pip and Loren in the practice arena. After introductions, the three Adams moved through their stretching routine, this time a longer form of the kata; from the many small form breaks and general lack of fluidity, it was clear that Stash was not as keen on the routine as Pip and Loren.

Consequently, Stash was already a little frustrated when he stepped to the side so that Pip and Loren could begin sparring. Picking up where they had left off the previous day, Pip was soon attempting to hold off Loren without his arms, using kicks to back up the smaller man. As before, Loren couldn't get to Pip's body, but was landing solid shots on his legs; in an Arena match with a stronger, longer Adam, this could be trouble.

The pair stopped their exercise and came together, discussing the experience. Pip was pointing to a just-forming bruise on his outer thigh when Stash approached. "What was that?"

Pip paused his explanation and raised back up. "Loren can't get past my defense, so we're trying to see if there is a way for him to challenge me a bit more. We're also considering the idea of fighting with a disabled limb, or maybe two. We just started yesterday."

"And you want me to do that, too?" he asked incredulously.

"No, you and I would just fight normally, at least for now."

"How is that any different than what I said yesterday?"

"Oh," said Pip, realizing his mistake. "I won't actually hit or kick you, just a tap to let you know that I could have."

"How does that help you, or me?"

"Well, you're at least the second best Adam here," said Pip with a smile, "so you'll be a much bigger challenge than him," Pip said pointing to his trainer. "No offense, Loren."

"Asshole," came the trainer's automatic reply.

Pip kept smiling and turned back to Stash. "For you, just try to hit me. You don't need to pull your punches or kicks -- Max never did."

"And if I hurt you?" ventured Stash tentatively.

"Then job well done, and you can have the top spot back."

Stash walked back over to his trainer, only to find that John had wandered up and the two men were talking. After a couple hundred beats of discussion, Stash stepped back onto the sand. "I'm still not sure about this, but let's give it a go. You sure you want me to go full speed?" Pip nodded and they moved away from one another.

After a dozen beats, Stash stepped forward quickly, controlled and violent. With the Effect, Pip had little trouble deflecting strikes or avoiding them altogether. Whenever Stash made a mistake, and sometimes even when he didn't, Pip would tap the bigger Adam. As they continued to spar and Stash became more frustrated and tired, the taps went from his arms and legs to his shoulders and hips, then to his chest and head. In less than a quarter bell, Stash gave up.

Breathing deeply but not actually winded, he disengaged by stepping backward again. "I don't know how the fuck you are so fast, but your reputation is well deserved." Pip acknowledged the compliment with a nod while John and the two trainers stepped onto the sand. Like Stash, Mike was complimentary, but Pip got a weird feeling from the guy.

Regardless, the group decided that having Stash join Pip and Loren for training two or three times a week would be mutually beneficial, and parted cordially. Pip and Loren waved as John also left, then went back to their practice, this time with Pip hopping on one leg.

Back in his room later, Pip was finding the meeting with Cap Carson a letdown. Conversation had been halting as the former trainer preferred one word answers, and it was obvious that he wasn't comfortable with the situation. Even though they were in a Pip's room, Cap kept looking around to see if he was being observed. 'What a terrible way to live,' thought Pip.

After about half a bell, Pip was ready to call it quits when Rachel stepped into the room. The old man flinched, then relaxed again as he saw who it was. When nothing was said for a hundred beats, Rachel asked unnecessarily, "How is it going?" Pip laughed and Cap almost smiled before remembering he was uncomfortable.

"Thanks, Rach." He took a breath. "We're just having a hard time finding common ground."

"What did you talk about?" she asked.

"Well, I couldn't actually say," he replied sheepishly.

Rachel rolled her eyes, inadvertently doing an excellent impression of either Rosie or Maggie -- he wasn't sure which one of them had taught the other two. "Mr. Carson," Rachel said as she turned to look at the man, "why don't you tell us about your time as a trainer."

"What would you like to know?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Rachel continued to smile and kept her eyes fixed on his while doing it.

It was only half a hundred beats before Cap looked away. "Fine, just stop staring at me. You're making me uncomfortable."

Rachel gave him a knowing grin and settled against Pip's side.

Cap took a long, shaky breath and started talking, his voice virtually devoid of emotion, the tone constant. "I was born here, almost sixty-eight years ago. I never knew my Dad, but my Mom was in Logistics. I didn't get her mind for details or numbers, but I was scrapping in the school yard as soon as I could walk. You can see I'm a regular sized guy, but I never backed down from a bully, and by the time I finished up, the other boys left me alone.

"They weren't sure what to do with me, so they let me join a Maintenance crew, mostly doing small jobs and some housekeeping." He paused, as if seeing a memory clearly. "That changed one day when I saw an Adam sparring. He was beating the hell out of his training partner, but his form was sloppy, and I was making a sour face while watching him do it.

"This old guy -- like me now, I guess -- comes over and asks me what's the matter. I tell him the Adam's footwork is shit and that he's reaching with his jab. The guy gives me this weird smile, and that's it. The next day I put on my greens, get my schedule, and see I'm supposed to go meet a guy named Walker. Turns out that was the old guy I'd talked with the day before. I get there and he tells me he agreed with my assessment and that he'd be taking me on as an apprentice." He paused, considered, then nodded. "And that was that."

"How long were you Walker's apprentice?" Rachel inquired.

"About a year and a half, then he passed on: heart attack."

"Sorry --" she started, but he cut her off.

"Walker was okay, but we weren't friends. He got me started because he needed somebody to help him out, not because he was a nice guy looking out for a lost kid."

"Did you take over his Adam?" asked Pip.

"Adams," replied Cap, emphasizing the 's.' Walker had three, including the one I saw that first day."

"Any of them make it to the Arena?"

"No. Two died in training fights and the third had to be put down. That one started scratching himself, his arms and thighs. It got so bad he was gouging out these furrows in his skin." Cap shook his head. "That kind of thing used to happen a lot more back then; I don't think I've heard of any mental cases in quite a while."

Pip nodded and glanced down at Rachel, who looked a bit sick, so he reached around and squeezed her into his side.

"But you did have an Adam make it to the Arena?"

"Two," came the proud reply. "Jagger and Max."

"I didn't know you trained Max," exclaimed Pip. "Did you know he was my trainer for a while?"

Cap shook his head. "I don't get out much. Did you two have a difference of opinion like he and I did? Is that why he's not training you anymore?"

Pip shook his head slowly. "No, actually... Max was killed acting as my bodyguard. An assassin shot him, and a few others, while trying to get to me."

The old man looked thoughtful. "I take it he was doing something brave when it happened?"

Pip nodded. "If it weren't for him, one of the directors -- a friend of ours -- would almost certainly have been shot. Maybe others."

"You know, that seems fitting," Cap responded with a half smile. "I would have hated to see an old Max hobbling around the Complex, asking for help because he couldn't do things for himself anymore. He was too proud for that, and too important to the city."

Silence settled, and lingered, but it wasn't the same uncomfortable blanket it had been before.

"So you and Max didn't get along?" Pip ventured.

"We got along well, right up until we didn't. After his third fight, I tried to tell him he should retire: he was getting slower and the chance of getting caught was too high for my liking; Max wouldn't hear about it. "I won't be done til they carry my carcass out of the Arena on a stretcher." Stubborn bastard. He switched to a new trainer the day after our argument.

"He won that fourth fight, but it was a near thing, and they did have to carry him out on a stretcher. With the loss of his eye, the decision to retire was made for him."

"Did you talk afterward?"

"Not once," Cap said regretfully, "but I should have. Max wasn't the only one too proud for his own good. We weren't friends, but Max was one of the good ones -- I enjoyed being his trainer." Cap's voice trailed off, and as if by intention, the top of the bell sounded.