Page 75 of Beyond The Maples
His eyes narrow at mein question.
"What do you mean bare-handed? You have to use the shields and bands..."
Shields? I glance over at the bottom of the tower to the disks. Well, I guess they do look like shields. That makes sense.
"... also, cadet, I have to warn you. No woman has ever made it to the top. And I don’t need to tell you that about 95% of the men don’t either. I think you’ve seen a few attempts this year alone go wrong. There are safer ways to get points," he states simply. But the way he says it all, it almost seems like a challenge; like he’s daring me.
I use it to inflate me.
Raising my eyebrows with a small smile, I ignore his statements and say, "Sorry, but you didn’t answer my other question. What exactly do I get out of it?"?
"You get a junior leadership position. Even as a cadet, you’ll be given first dibs on assignments, sit in on meetings. You’ll have influence on who goes where in your cohort... within reason, obviously," he adds with a chuckle.
A small smile creeps past my lips. There it is. Not only will I be able to ensure my entire crew gets a good assignment while we all sort out our shit, I can influence where Deacon’s goes as well. I can get a better insight into what is happening around base, and everything else we’ve been trying to figure out.?
"And if I want to wear those shields on my head and scale the tower naked, as long as I get up there, sound the siren, get down in one piece, I’m good?" I’m pinning him with a look, my voice loud.?
His eyes widen a bit at my brazenness, and then he lets out a soft chuckle.?
"I suppose you can do whatever you want."?
"Ok, great, thanks… Lachlan? Or are you a Lieutenant, too? I don’t remember ever hearing your official position names, or how to address you," I admit sheepishly. We were probably told at one point. Listening is hard.?
"Just Lachlan is good." He lets out another chuckle, shaking his head.?
"Ok, thanks again, Just Lachlan!"
I feel eyes on me as I walk towards the tower's base. Namely, Tane’s gaze searing into my back, after listening to our entire conversation. I ignore him, letting thatnew thread of determination push me forward. I have to figure this out quickly, before my crewmates, or Deacon, get here to try and change my mind.
I duck under the rope sectioning off the base of the tower, and kneel by the pile of materials.
I start trying to organize everything.?
The two shields are heavy, spanning almost the length of my arm. My fingers run idly over the engravings etched onto the back, too faded to really make out, but right away I know they're ancient. I press my thumb into the edge, waiting until I feel a subtle sting and pull away. Good––sharp enough.?
I roll the shields over, so the handles face upwards. The grips are long and wide, covered in the same material as the tether. Some sort of strong, stretchy fabric. I shake my head. They really screwed women over with this one. My hands aren’t even big enough to grip these properly.?
I work as quickly as I can, trying to get as much of the stretchy material unraveled from the handle. The handholds are padded thickly, but for this to work, I’ll need the whole length. Once I’ve got it worked off, I pull it from the metal handle, leaving it bare, except for a small, thin layer of fabric, and I decide to leave the tether in one giant full piece.?
I work my lip between my teeth as I think through my next steps. Originally, I thought I could do this barefoot, using the tether around the tower instead of binding the shields together. But now I have to bring these stupid things with me.?
One thing I know about myself, and women in general, is our arms may not be as strong, but our legs are sturdy, so I'll need to rely on my lower body strength.
Sitting down, I take off my shoes, and a very bad idea comes to me.?
Eyeing my shoes, I make a decision that I'll likely regret later. Using my knife, I cut the stretchy fabric clinging to the handles as close to the metal as I can, so it keeps its length. Then, taking my shoes off, I cut between the soles and the toe cap, working through the thick, black material, stopping about halfway downthe shoe. I leave just a layer of ribbon on the handholds, and as I shove them into my mutilated boots so the metal handle is sucked into the toe.
Now for the fun part.
The metal handles, without all the padding, are thin. But I don't exactly have slender feet, so I have to shove with all my strength to cram them back into the shoes. The split toes of the shoes gape open like the bills of talking ducks.
"Maple, what are you doing?" Berkley demands. He's looming behind me with a small group of onlookers.
I completely ignore him, tying off the smaller strips of fabric tight around my shoes, closing the toes and anchoring them in place with my feet secured inside. I use my teeth to hold one side as I pull hard, willing the fabric to hold me and my shoes in place.
I realize that I should have collected the rogue strands of fabric that re-coiled when I'd cut them from the disks. Walking with them already on my feet is a nightmare. The shields are only curved where the hand holds are, and they're flat around the outer edges, so I look ridiculous as I fumble to grab the fabric and walk it around the tower.
I hear more protests from behind me. Deacon has, unfortunately, joined Berkley, and I can hear them asking me –– maybe the Legion––to stop this.
