Traveller, L.W. Samuelson [best adventure books to read .TXT] 📗

the resentment turned to anger.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You seem upset." Something is raging inside of him. He picked me to be the brunt of his frustrations. How lucky am I? I'm not letting him hit me with a jolt of electricity.
"Nothing I want to talk about," Traveller responded. "Let's get this thing started. Whumm . . . Whumm . . . His saber hummed splitting the air with electricity.
"When you're ready," said Porter.
"Now!" Traveller shouted as he came forward slashing his blade in a series of ever faster blows. Whumm . . . Whumm . . . Sparks flew when his saber made contact with Porter's. Showers of electric sparks filled the air. Each blow left Porter's blade sizzling.
The man could feel the boy's frustration. He waited for the sword thrust that would surely follow the vigorous pounding of Traveller's blade. When it displayed in the boy's eyes, Porter jumped backward, twirled all the way around to the left and brought his blade down, it barely grazed Traveller's arm as he thrust his saber, but the electric pain opened his hand. He dropped his weapon. It fell with a whumm to spark on the floor.
Before Porter could take advantage of the disarmament, the boy impelled himself into Porter knocking him backward. Traveller drew his dagger from the back of his belt. He charged while his friend was trying to rebalance and stop his backward momentum.
Porter couldn't regain his feet fast enough to protect himself from the boy's onslaught so he continued going back. He fell then somersaulted away from the vicious attack. He came to his feet a few mezures away from Traveller’s charge and immediately impelled twenty mezures down court just as the boy thrust the dagger at his shadow.
“Lization! You lizard! Stay and fight!” Traveller shouted with his face deepening into violet. He impelled himself forward with his saber dragging behind him.
I knew he’d let his anger get the best of him, poor kid. Porter grabbed his saber with both hands, pointed it in front of him and impelled to meet Traveller.Chapter 5 - Reconnaissance
Traveller remembered slamming into what seemed like an electric wall. He could feel pinpoints of pain stabbing his chest. Porter was knelt down beside him. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
"What happened?" Traveller answered faintly, fingering the burnt spot on his chest. I was so angry. Why? Where did it all go?
"You impelled yourself onto the point of my sensory sword," Porter replied, gently moving Traveller's hand away then dabbing the wound with curemesh. "I'm sorry, my friend. I'm just not willing to be stunned with electricity."
"But how did you know I wouldn't win?"
"I studied the video replay of your level seven fights. I am a trained Benwarian protector. You let your anger get the best of you. There are a number of reasons."
"You studied my fights?"
"Yes. You are very impressive. You have the heart of a Lizerian battle commander, the speed of an assassin, but you lack self control and experience. Those things take time." Porter helped him sit up.
Porter sat down by his friend before putting his arm around the boy who had lost his temper. "I'm older, stronger, and have actually trained with some of the best saber fighters in Benwar. If I could've, I would've have let you win to build your confidence, but the thought of being knocked out with a saber jolt prevented me from indulging you. Why do you want to take your anger out on me?"
"I, I, don't know. You're the only friend I have," Traveller said with tears in his eyes. "I guess I want to be noticed, to know that I am good at something."
"If there were others your age on board, I'm sure you would be the best among them at saber fighting, but there aren't. Let me tell you something. Ship will not allow you to continue this self destructive behavior. I would fight with lower doses of electricity from now on before she bans you from fighting all together."
Traveller shook his head. "You see that what makes me so angry. Why don't I ever get to decide anything for myself? Why does Ship get to control my life? Or my parents, why do they get to decide what course my life takes?"
"It is the nature of all societies to guide and protect their young until they are old enough to make rational decisions. Your parents have your best interests at heart, however misguided you think they are. Imagine how you mother and father would feel if they found out you'd been killed by a holograph. They would be forever heart broken and shamed to know your life had served no meaningful purpose. In the end, it will be you who decides what course your life will take. You just have to be patient."
Porter's words calmed Traveller. He felt better with his friend's arm around his shoulders. He felt supported, comforted by the truth of the words. "I'm sorry Porter. You're a good friend, better than I deserve."
Porter thought for a moment before saying, "Listen, we had better leave before Ship shuts the court down. She might block us from sparring anyway. You've been stunned too many times. I'll talk to Logis; have him override Ship's regulations. I'll give you one more chance to beat me before I go."
"Really? You'd do that for me?"
"You're my friend, Traveller. That's what friends do. I will insist that we spar with the sabers on the light shock setting though. I can't stand self-inflicted pain. I leave in four cycles. Meet me here in two at eleven hundred parsecs."

Set at such a low intensity, Traveller's saber barely hummed when he sliced it through the air. He had talked to his father about saber fighting. Fa Orgen instructed him to use visualization techniques. "Visualize Porter. How does he fight? What are his habits? Visualize the fights you've had so far. What did each of them have in common?" his father had asked before adding, "I'll bet you were the aggressor in each one. You probably fought in anger."
Traveller had held his head down as he realized that his father understood him far better than he imagined. And then his father asked him something he found truly amazing, "Would you like me to spar with you?"
"Yes," he said.
They had gone to the training room. Traveller watched as his father set the saber on the lowest intensity possible. He followed his father's example. He would never ever do physical harm to his father. Even though he resented Fa Orgen, Traveller believed in the Benwarian culture. He loved his dad even if he'd never admit it.
"I will fight with a dagger," he had said. His father shrugged as if it were of no consequence.
Fa Orgen stood in the middle of the court with his front leg in an "L" shape and his back leg extended. "I'm ready," he said.
"Begin," Traveller replied circling around. He moved in with a slash that was deftly blocked. He pivoted, sliced his saber downward to be blocked again. With their sabers engaged his father pushed him backward and followed with a thrust. Traveller could feel a slight shock even though the blade hadn't penetrated. He impelled himself away waiting for his father to follow, but it didn't happen. His father was playing defense.
A vision came to Traveller. He impelled himself just inside his father's saber and brushed it aside, bearing the mild shock that came with contacting the blade. Pulling the dagger from its sheath with his left hand, he brought it down hard. His father met his arm to hold it in a steely grip.
Fa Orgen smiled with pride, "I was wondering what the dagger was for." He pushed Traveller away. Switching to offense, he followed with an attack of his own.
The son parried the father's blows, surprised at their vehemence, surprised at Fa Orgen's strength. "Where did you learn to fight?" Traveller asked.
"I have my own VR unit. I practice with it. I spar occasionally with some of the protectors."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked. You didn't seem interested in anything but yourself," Fa Orgen said suddenly jumping feet first into his son's legs. Traveller fell backward. He rolled when he saw his father spring to his feet, bring his saber up with both hands and drive it downward. The point hummed and sparked against the floor.
Traveller kicked his right leg into his father's feet causing him to stumble. Rolling over and up, he swung his saber in a wide arc that raked Fa Orgen's side brushing him with dull electric sparks.
"Good one," his father said. He crisscrossed his sword in front of him before attacking. Traveller impelled himself backward in a rapid succession of jumps as his father rushed forward with blows that made both sabers hum and arc. He waited until Fa Orgen thrust then he chopped downward with is sword, twirled forward along his father's right arm and then landed a killing thrust with his dagger. His father went down.
"You won," he said in amazement panting on the court floor.
"I won," Traveller said with wonder.
"Good job. Porter's trained you well," Fa Orgen said smiling with pride.
"He hasn't had time to teach me how to use the saber."
"Really? I certainly couldn't tell," his father said. "But he has taught you how to think and stay calm."
"Yes and he's helped me sort a few things out," Traveller said offering to help his father up. Fa Orgen grabbed his hand to be pulled to his feet.
The father put his arm around his son. "That was fun. We should do it more often."
"I'd like that," said Traveller.

The next day, Porter showed up for the scheduled fight. "I heard about the match with your father," he said.
"Oh really? How?"
"Your father called me to brag. He was excited, proud of his son."
Traveller turned blue. "He bragged about me?"
"Oh yes. Believe it or not your father is good with a saber. He was surprised at how fast and strong you are. He was caught completely off guard by your skills, the way you anticipated his moves."
Traveller smiled, please with himself. "I still can't beat you though."
"You never know. Maybe now that your anger is gone . . ."
"I'd rather not spar today, if that's all right."
"Really? Why?"
"I'm ashamed of the way I acted, trying to take my anger out on my best friend, my only friend."
"Don't worry about it. You didn't do anything wrong."
"So let's go to the arboretum, breathe in some fresh air,” the boy suggested.
“I’d like that.”
When they got there, Porter found a table under a gigantic umbrella tree. Long tendrils reached downward forming a leafy canopy that hung just above their heads. The moist, oxygenated air invigorated the two Benwarians.
“May I get you a goblet of water?” asked Traveller.
“That would be nice.”
Traveller followed a path that led to a synthesizer embedded in Ship’s wall. “Two waters please. Twenty centigrees cold,” he said then grabbed the goblets when they were filled. He returned to the table.
Porter stood to take the goblet from his friend. He held it up, “To life!”
They clinked their glasses together. “To life,” said Traveller before taking a drink in unison with his friend.
“So when exactly are you leaving?” the boy asked.
"We leave the day after tomorrow at four parsecs."
"So the three protectors that were awakened, they're to accompany you?"
"Yes, each one of us will have a separate ship on the travel pod. The ships will separate just outside