line surrounding the pod. There were no footprints on or near it. No one had come thatclose to the creature. That meant one thing beyond question: They were taking no chances with the monster.
“You’re not scared, are you?”
Without giving his response any thought at all, Kitai immediately declared, “I’m not scared of anything.”
It seemed that the Rangers indeed took him at his word. In a declaration of “Uhh rahh!” the Rangers tossed off a verbal salute to him, congratulating him on his bravery.
“Even if it imprints on you, you don’t need to worry. She ain’t getting out.”
That froze Kitai for a moment. The concept of an Ursa imprinting on him was certainly daunting. Imprinting was one of an Ursa’s major weapons. Once it imprinted on a person—fully locked onto their DNA essence—that individual became the Ursa’s new target. The Ursa would proceed to attack its potential victim for … well, forever. Kitai wasn’t entirely sure how thrilled he was about becoming the creature’s number one priority chew toy, especially for that length of time.
But he pushed those concerns aside the best he could. He was being challenged by a group of Rangers; he couldn’t just walk away from it as if it meant nothing. Or, even worse, openly display his fear. They’d roast him for that. He’d be a joke. He’d be the gutless son of the Original Ghost and an embarrassment to the Raige family legacy.
All he did was simply nod in acknowledgment of the situation.
The security chief promptly called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, the son of the OG is going to try to ghost. Place your bets!”
To Kitai’s annoyance, they actually started throwing down money. He couldn’t help noticing that there weren’t any bets placed on his ability to pull it off.
I’ll show them
, he thought in grim annoyance.
Slowly Kitai made his way to the rear of the organic pod. For the first time he was close enough to see thatin the shell-like exterior of the pod, there were holes so that one could see in. But there didn’t appear to be an Ursa or anything else inside. “I don’t see anything,” he said cautiously.
“Active camouflage,” the security chief replied. “Photosensitive skin cells change color and texture to match its surroundings. It uncamouflages so it can frighten you. So you release more pheromones—they’re crafty bastards.”
It truly was insidious. Ursa required fear to find their targets, and so their method of attack was calculated to elicit as much fear as possible. Being virtually invisible allowed them to appear abruptly and terrify the crap out of their intended victims.
Kitai moved closer to the pod. He stopped a mere few centimeters away from crossing the red line.
The security chief wasn’t making it any easier for him. “Ghosting is when you don’t have a trace of fear in you. Good luck doing that. To ghost one must be so free from fear that you become invisible to the Ursa. Fear is territorial in your heart. It refuses to share space with any other virtues. You must force fear from your heart and replace it with any other virtue. It could be love or happiness or faith, but the virtue is specific to the individual and comes from the deepest part of that person.
“You get all that, cadet?” said the security chief. His voice was sardonic as he added, “Your dad wrote that helpful tidbit.”
And there it was, unmistakable. The security chief wasn’t screwing around anymore. He was putting it right out there:
You think you’re on your dad’s level? Let’s see what you’ve got
.
Without hesitation, Kitai stepped defiantly over the red line surrounding the pod. If the security chief was startled by his audacity, he didn’t show it. Instead his voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Most guys freeze—that’s your cerebral cortex looking for an answer it doesn’t have. Your blood is filling with adrenaline rightnow, whether you know it or not. Your heart’s beating faster.
“You’re not scared, are you?”
Without giving his response any thought at all, Kitai immediately declared, “I’m not scared of anything.”
It seemed that the Rangers indeed took him at his word. In a declaration of “Uhh rahh!” the Rangers tossed off a verbal salute to him, congratulating him on his bravery.
“Even if it imprints on you, you don’t need to worry. She ain’t getting out.”
That froze Kitai for a moment. The concept of an Ursa imprinting on him was certainly daunting. Imprinting was one of an Ursa’s major weapons. Once it imprinted on a person—fully locked onto their DNA essence—that individual became the Ursa’s new target. The Ursa would proceed to attack its potential victim for … well, forever. Kitai wasn’t entirely sure how thrilled he was about becoming the creature’s number one priority chew toy, especially for that length of time.
But he pushed those concerns aside the best he could. He was being challenged by a group of Rangers; he couldn’t just walk away from it as if it meant nothing. Or, even worse, openly display his fear. They’d roast him for that. He’d be a joke. He’d be the gutless son of the Original Ghost and an embarrassment to the Raige family legacy.
All he did was simply nod in acknowledgment of the situation.
The security chief promptly called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, the son of the OG is going to try to ghost. Place your bets!”
To Kitai’s annoyance, they actually started throwing down money. He couldn’t help noticing that there weren’t any bets placed on his ability to pull it off.
I’ll show them
, he thought in grim annoyance.
Slowly Kitai made his way to the rear of the organic pod. For the first time he was close enough to see thatin the shell-like exterior of the pod, there were holes so that one could see in. But there didn’t appear to be an Ursa or anything else inside. “I don’t see anything,” he said cautiously.
“Active camouflage,” the security chief replied. “Photosensitive skin cells change color and texture to match its surroundings. It uncamouflages so it can frighten you. So you release more pheromones—they’re crafty bastards.”
It truly was insidious. Ursa required fear to find their targets, and so their method of attack was calculated to elicit as much fear as possible. Being virtually invisible allowed them to appear abruptly and terrify the crap out of their intended victims.
Kitai moved closer to the pod. He stopped a mere few centimeters away from crossing the red line.
The security chief wasn’t making it any easier for him. “Ghosting is when you don’t have a trace of fear in you. Good luck doing that. To ghost one must be so free from fear that you become invisible to the Ursa. Fear is territorial in your heart. It refuses to share space with any other virtues. You must force fear from your heart and replace it with any other virtue. It could be love or happiness or faith, but the virtue is specific to the individual and comes from the deepest part of that person.
“You get all that, cadet?” said the security chief. His voice was sardonic as he added, “Your dad wrote that helpful tidbit.”
And there it was, unmistakable. The security chief wasn’t screwing around anymore. He was putting it right out there:
You think you’re on your dad’s level? Let’s see what you’ve got
.
Without hesitation, Kitai stepped defiantly over the red line surrounding the pod. If the security chief was startled by his audacity, he didn’t show it. Instead his voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Most guys freeze—that’s your cerebral cortex looking for an answer it doesn’t have. Your blood is filling with adrenaline rightnow, whether you know it or not. Your heart’s beating faster.
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