The rest of my team pulled up behind us on rumbler bikes and monowheels, whooping and fist-bumping as we kicked up sand and headed for the bridge to Treasure Island, where the next stage of the contest would take place. And with our head start, we had the best chance to stack points and go for the win.
Mouse glanced back at me, a wide grin on his face. Around my age, he was slim and tall, not to mention handsome to a fault. We shared similar brown skin tones, but while I knew my looks came from my Chinese-African heritage, he knew nothing of his ancestry. A simple blood test would tell him exactly where he came from, but he always laughed at the suggestion. That was his defense mechanism about anything related to his deceased parents: laughter and a quick change of subject.
His hair rippled in the wind, black and glossy as wet ink as he shouted over the roar of the engine. "That was crazy, Merlin. I can't believe it worked."
I smiled, leaning into his back to avoid getting grit in my eyes. "I know. Just gotta run the Gauntlet next, and then we're in the Melee. Jonesy will be too far behind to match our score, no matter what he's driving."
"Yeah, too bad the Sister is gonna kill us when she finds out."
I gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Don't worry about Daiyu — she's not coming back anytime soon. Besides, she shouldn't have trained me so hard if she didn't want me to use my skills."
I tried to maintain the thrill of the race, but the sounds of the cheering crowds muted as I thought about how Daiyu became calmer the angrier she got. And she had been very calm when she told me that I was forbidden to enter the contest.
It's too late to worry about that now. You have a Tourney to finish.
Pushing thoughts of Daiyu from my mind, I focused on the mass of onlookers, drinking in their sound to feed the adrenaline for the next stage of the contest. I needed it because things were going to be even more dangerous.
But maybe not as dangerous as Daiyu.
2
When I was five years old, Daiyu explained why I'd always be different from everyone else. Even then, she was more of an unrelenting teacher than a parent. We never had a mother-daughter relationship — it was always teacher-student, master-apprentice. She told me it was better that way — there was no time to foster family bonds when our enemies would only take advantage of it to hurt us. But as I grew older, I realized that her preference for detachment was also a product of her fear. Fear of emotional investment, fear of change.
So even when I was five years old, she spoke to me as if to an adult. And in that case, it was in Mandarin Chinese, one of the four languages I was fluent in. "You will always be different from your peers, Merlin. They will seem slow and weak, small-minded and dull-witted compared to you."
I looked up at her, eyes wide. Daiyu seemed a giant in those days, powerful and all-wise. "Why am I different, Daiyu?"
"Because of your genetic advantages. You have the blood of Wraths and Elites in your veins — DNA that makes you smarter, stronger, and faster than a normal child. You heal faster and won't tire as easily. In short: you will be better than anyone else around you."
In my childish naivety, I blurted out the question. "Even better than you, Daiyu?"
A small smile touched her lips. "We will see, child."
"What is an Elite?"
"Genetically superior humans bred in laboratories to soldier, particularly off-world."
"And my father was an Elite?"
"He was."
"Where is he?"
"He died in the war on Mars, child."
"Are there more Elites?"
"Yes."
"Where are they?"
"Stationed in Havens around the world, and bases on the Moon and Mars."
"Will I ever meet any of them?"
"You should certainly hope not. The Elites and their masters are your enemies."
"Why?"
"Because you exist, child."
I frowned, childish mind deep in thought. "I don't understand."
"Elites are bred to be sterile, meaning they cannot produce children. But something strange happened when your father and I coupled, resulting in my pregnancy. What was supposed to be impossible proved otherwise, an achievement that frightened some very powerful people. Because of that, you will always be a target. Some will want to capture and dissect you. And many will want to kill you, Merlin. If you don't believe anything else, believe that. Which is why you must keep your talents a secret for as long as you can, and why you will learn how to fight and defend yourself. Because I won't be able to protect you forever. You must be able to protect yourself. Do you understand, Merlin?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then let's begin your training."
By six years of age, I was proficient in karate, kung-fu, and jujitsu. I beat complex computer programs at chess and lifted four times my body mass. By seven, I mastered Muay Thai, Wing Chun, and Krav Maga, hacked the San Fran Haven's top security system, and split concrete blocks with my bare fists. By eight, I tackled complex mathematical geometry, was proficient in several hundred types of bladed weapons and firearms, and forced an MMA champion to tap out on the sparring floor. I grew up with no fear, no limits, no ceiling.
And no friends.
There were no other children in my circle, no one I could relate to. On the rare times Daiyu took me into the city, the kids I saw seemed like alien creatures, slow and silly, prone to inexplicable outbursts and squeals of laughter at things I didn't understand. There was no connection, nothing to attract me to others in my age group. I had been treated like a miniature adult all my life and felt more comfortable in their company than other children.
Daiyu was anything but a friend. She was my caretaker, my personal trainer, my teacher, and lastly, my mother only by caring for my physical needs. Emotionally distant, she was a mysterious planet and I was a satellite in her orbit. When she didn't train me personally, she set up trusted family members and friends to fill in. Prone to extended absences, she would vanish without explanation, away on any number of mystery assignments. At first, I took such things as normal, but as I grew older and more aware, the questions matured as well.
Eight years old, I balanced twenty feet in the air on a cable suspended between two oak trees in the backyard. On one leg with the other held at a straight angle, I slowly rotated, looking down at my aunt Julie on her knees, pruning in the rose garden with a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head. She was the opposite of her younger sister: plump and relaxed, prone to long conversations and rebellious humor.
"Where does Daiyu do when she's away, Auntie?"
She removed her hat, fanning herself as she looked up at me. "More than likely, she's off killing someone, sweetheart."
I wobbled on the cable, nearly losing my balance. "Why would Daiyu kill anyone?"
"That's her occupation. Did she not tell you this?"
"No. Daiyu said she is a Wrath of the Ebonhall Order."
"And what did you think that was?"
I shrugged. "I don't know — a fraternity?"
Auntie laughed. "I suppose it is, at that. But it is a fraternity of assassins, little one. Daiyu should have told you this herself. She keeps too many secrets." Shaking her head, she continued to trim the bushes, slow and methodical. "A Wrath serves the contracts of the Ebonhall masters without questions, taking the lives of those the Ebonhall deems unfit."