the rulers of their Sector. When the Security Force members started turning upmissing, the second in command would lead, but those Security Force members were not enhanced, only the Elite few were. The Elite had certain abilities they gained from training at a young age, and their special suits only left them vulnerable on their heads and groin areas. Shamira wondered again how Monev was able to bring the Elites down. The tags or tracking devices they wore were only traceable from the supercomputers at Headquarters, and even she couldnât break in that deep. It would take her years to get past the barriers to access that information.
She punched the bag in front of her again. Her preference was working with the punching bag and sparring with the android when her dad wasnât available. Today though, it wasnât doing the trick. Turning away from the bag, she touched the control on her wrist to activate the fight simulation. The punching bag disappeared into the ceiling.
Besides the punching bag and the sparring android, the training room also had an obstacle course, weights, and a simulation room for learning flight maneuvers and finding information about a particular enemy that would allow her to build a replica and find their weakness. She went to a nearby table to get some dot tags that stuck to the vulnerable parts other face to simulate a punch on either one of those areas. Its purpose was to make the trainee used to accepting pain, which was something Shamira did rather well. The simulation created a virtual reality with the enemies she programmed in with her wrist controller. She knew it wouldeffectively replicate the pain and even the smells associated with being hit, and she was ready. She zipped up her form-fitting simulation suit that covered her from head to toe.
âMultiple fighting sequences with obstacle course,â she said to the computer in the training room. The lights dimmed, and she closed her eyes to get her former rhythm. She readied herself and made sure she was able to sense all things around her. The simulation created a twenty-man attack on her home. She was thrown into a replica of her living room, and bad guy Fisher that she created for the simulation burst through the front door. She ran toward him and front-kicked him in the face, feeling the adrenaline rush she was searching for. His cronies came from behind, and she followed through on a back-kick just as another nameless foe punched her on the side of her face. She smiled. This is what she neededâa good fight. She was just getting started when the simulation suddenly ended.
âWhat? Restart simulation now!â she yelled.
âNot Today, I need a sparring partner, so I cut off your simulation,â she heard her mom say.
Now this is rare,
Shamira frowned.
Iâve never sparred with her before, so why does she want to do this now!
She didnât want to hurt her mother by turning her down, but she was afraid to let her mother find out what she was capable of. Especially know that she was all keyed up from what sheâd seen and heard that evening. She just had so much anger and frustration built up in her that she didnât think she had the control tohold back from hurting her mother or concealing her hidden strength.
âMom, I kinda want to do this alone today,â Shamira said as she took off her simulation gear.
Ignoring her, Shamiraâs mother said, âComputer, weâre going to the sparring room.â
Great.
Her mother was wearing a green form-fitting sparring suit. It had a zipper up the front, and her feet were sticking out at the bottom. Her mom was in better shape than Shamira realized. She had strong legs, a muscled stomach, and firm, yet softly muscled arms.
âDonât worry, Shamira. I can take anything you can dish out. The question is, can you take what I dish back?â her mother said and squatted into a fighting stance.
Taking off her simulation tags, she tossed
C. J. Cherryh
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