Sunday morning.
This is honestly starting to wear me down a bit. If I keep up with a seven day timetable I’ll go spare.
Anyway, today I need to head off to the Lancer Barracks out at Parramatta, due at nine-ish. Apparently, it’s an army base, much closer to Parramatta Station than I would have expected.
I kit myself out with my standard hoodie getup an illusion-ify my tail, then grab my satchel (umbrella, tablet and a few other bits and pieces), wallet and keys, then head out.
I get some strange looks (which I’m getting used to) as I get on the train. It’s a half hour or so, then I jump off the train and scurry out of the northern entrance to the station.
Lancer Barracks is open to the public on Sundays so getting in isn’t a problem. I’m not sure how to make my presence known.
Then I notice a tall, auburn-haired woman in uniform with three pips on her shoulders. She’s looking down at her phone, with camera scanning across the crowd, until it settles on me. She looks up, then directly at me. Seeing that she has my attention, she gestures with a come-hither for me to come over.
Right. My illusions don’t work against cameras yet. I must stand out like a neon sign on any CCTV. I just hope I didn’t set off any flags at the train station. I should probably start wearing long skirts any time I’m on public transport. Dammit.
I head over to the woman and as I approach, she speaks. “Geona?” she asks.
“Yours truly,” I respond sardonically.
“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it. Captain Marjorie Green, speaking. So you’re some sort of… fox spirit? I was told to expect you, and how to spot you. Where are you from?”
“Sydney born, believe it or not. Technically I’m a kitsune, a Japanese fox spirit… except in my case I’m not actually from Japan. Long story.”
“I’d love to hear it some time.
“For now we need to get you to a change room to get into your… uniform, then we can get to the shooting range for some practice.”
“Uniform? Practice?”
“The Japs sent a package for you to wear, although it doesn’t seem bulky enough for one of their usual uniforms. Practice… I’m a specialist. Can’t talk about it here; this isn’t a secure area.”
She escorts us off to the left of the public entrance, then to a security kiosk where a serious-looking young soldier with a single chevron on his shoulder watches us approach warily, then salutes Marjorie.
“Lance Corporal, you should have a security badge on file for Geona here. I’ve confirmed her identity and she’s identified herself. Please issue the badge for her.”
The man grimaces then opens a small safe behind him, then extracts a security badge on a lanyard. “We need a photo for the badge, Ma’am. Please step over to the wall there to have your photo taken.”
This could be troublesome. I’m pretty sure that camera will be digital; it will show my actual face, and I doubt very much that he’ll take the difference lightly.
“Lance Corporal, I’ll handle the photo. Please call the Major to confirm.”
He looks a little incredulous. I don’t really blame him; who needs a modified security clearance to change who takes a bloody photo? Nevertheless, he makes the call, then stands stiffly as the person at the other end of the line confirms Marjorie’s request.
Marjorie gestures me to a blank wall, flipping my hoodie down in passing, and motions for me to move left or right to line me up. In exasperation she tilts the camera down. “Looks like a bloody child…” she mutters in irritation, then there’s a flash.
She logs into the computer. I can’t see what she’s doing, but as she finishes up she takes the badge provided and sticks it into a machine. A bit of whirring later and the badge pops out with my photo on it – sans ears. The badge carries my name, what I think is a JSDF logo, and the words “Specialist” and “Security Clearance Purple Alpha.”
“We’ll talk more about the badge later. For now, put this around your neck.” She attaches a lanyard and hands it to me. I quickly string it around my neck as she escorts me further into the base.
Firstly, she takes me to a small meeting room off what looks to be a firing range.
“Right,” she says. “I’ve had the briefing, but it was a little short on detail. Purple clearance means magic specialist. You don’t seem to have any sort of military training; if you’re going to be wearing a uniform, we’ll probably need to correct that, but for now, just make sure you pay attention to anybody with a purple clearance badge or a suitable rank. Suitable rank for you means three pips, a crown or crossed swords on their insignia.
“Anybody junior to that, yell for help. Ask for me or Major Adams.
“Now, that security badge of yours is a bit special.”
She hands me a… monocle?
“Look at your badge through the lens,” she requests.
Looking through the lens, the photo changes. It doesn’t look like my illusion self but my true self. Interesting.
“Anybody in the know who needs to identify you on the basis of security camera footage will have one of those and will know when to use it. Anybody else…”
“I ask for you or Major Adams?” I guess.
“Bingo. I mentioned I’m a specialist. I also have some basic training in the magical arts, with core specialties in Lightning and Earth magics. Useful when making fortifications. I’ve been told you also have Lightning magic, so that’s what I’ll be using for your training. We’ll be heading over to the range in a bit to run you through that.
“You aren’t cleared for a firearm, by the way, so don’t ask.”
She stands abruptly then types a combination into a locker in the corner. She pulls a box out of the locker and hands it to me.
“Get dressed in this. I’ll wait outside for a moment; this room is shielded in more ways than one. It’s safe for you to be alone in here, and it’s safe for us to leave you alone in here.”
Marjorie steps out the door and I pull the box open.
The box contains a sakura pink judo gi, and a hair accessory in the form of a petunia, crafted in delicate metal, shaded in a much bolder shade… also of pink.
I don’t really know the language of flowers; I’m sure it means something.
Anyway, I put on the gi then use my phone camera in mirror mode to position the hair accessory behind my left ear. I feel a slight tingle as I put it on.
I shove my other clothes into my satchel, then edge the door open to see Marjorie standing outside.
“Ready when you are,” I tell her.
As I open the door, she looks me up and down and a broad grin spreads across her face. “I have to say… you’re insufferably cute. It’s a pity you’re hiding your fox features; if the boys spot you, you’ll be in serious danger of instant election as the base mascot.”
I realise with a start that it’s been close to an hour since I applied my illusion. It’s due to fade at any minute.
“If we don’t get moving, they may show up whether I want them to or not. This illusion has a time limit.”
She starts a little but doesn’t seem worried.
“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they’ve seen around here. To be honest, I think you should just let it go. It will give you more freedom to move around, at least in the non-public areas. The soldiers know better to ask, and I don’t think they’ll mind; it helps them to know what they’re fighting for.”
She may not be worried, but I am. Also, in all honesty, a little… excited? It occurs to me that I’ve spent my whole life showing some form of mask or another. There’s no helping it under some circumstances, but maybe…
I drop the illusion, and a source of strain I never realised I was holding disappears.
Marjorie squeals and twitches towards me in an obvious impulse to do something likely inappropriate before visibly restraining herself. She straightens up then heads over to a long building off to the side of the office where we just met, then swipes her security card top open the door. I follow her in.
“This is the firing range,” she informs me. “It’s a good place to practice because there are barriers in place to protect us both, and the range is hardened to minimise damage from… stray firepower.”
I notice her eyes are still flicking occasionally to my ears and tail.
I really don’t mind. I grin broadly; “Please, just let it loose. You’re going to be distracted for the rest of the day if you don’t try.”
She looks a little puzzled, with an edge of hope.
“Tail. Ears. Nuzzle away. I like that sort of thing. At least I think so. Just don’t push it too fa— ” WHUMPF.,
Suddenly I have a hundred and seventy centimetres of jacked Captain wrapped around me, one hand fondling my ears while the other strokes my tail. As she scritches my ears, I keen softly in pleasure. That feels so, soooo goooood.
After about five minutes she seems to get it out of her system and she steps back, smiling brightly. “Ah. Sorry about that. Don’t often jet a chance to let loose around here.”
“Don’t apologise. I think we both enjoyed that. But, place and time. We should probably get on with this.”
And so the magic training begins.
“Okay, basics. Let’s talk about lightning first, since it’s what we both have in common.
“Things you should know.
“Know exactly where your lightning is going. Know exactly how strong you’re making it. Range is limited, but is longer if there’s an ionisation trail for it to follow.
“Fire magic or other forms of fire will establish an ionisation trail. I don’t have fire magic. So I cheat. I hit it with a tracer bullet.
“You may think that if we’re firing a gun already, whatever we’re shooting is already going down. Doesn’t always work that way. Firstly, armour. Secondly, you may not always want to shoot to kill.
“In fact, in your position you will very rarely want to kill your target. Too much paperwork. Worst case, murder charges, although explaining how your victim was killed by a lightning bolt and why it’s your fault will be a challenge to the prosecutors.
“Plus, and I really hope I don’t need to explain this to you, killing people is bad. It’s something we do when necessary, not by choice. If you kill somebody, even with the very best of intentions, you will almost certainly regret it, since I’m pretty sure you’re not a psychopath.
“For most people lightning has a range of about fifteen metres, up to fifty with an ionisation trail in place, a hundred under extreme circumstances.
“Our briefing notes for you say you know the very basics. Target at the end of the range. Wait for me to get behind the barrier, then fire away.”
The target is about ten metres away.
After Marjorie ducks away, I fish around in the back of my head for a feeling for lightning. Finally I think I have a handle on it, and point my finger at the remote target.
The lightning arcs immediately to the frame of the window through which I was firing.
Marjorie calls out from beyond the barrier. “Don’t just point. You need to guide it with your thoughts. Know where it’s going, then release.”
I put my hands behind my back to reduce my impulse to point then try again. As the bolt starts to build, I hear Marjorie start to say something.
WHAP.
I wake up lying on the floor, head settled in Marjorie’s lap. She’s frowning.
“That was silly. I said not to point, not to not use your hands altogether. Without your hands as a basis, the lightning grounded at the nearest part of yourself to the target. That being, your silly head. It’s hard to hurt yourself with your own magic, but you managed a solid start.”
Blushing furiously — for more reasons than one — I lever myself back to my feet while Marjorie stands with a sardonic half-smile and moves back behind the barrier.
This time I point my hand at the target but focus on the target as a destination for my lightning. After a moment the bolt lets loose, and strikes around half way to the edge of the target.
“Close,” Marjorie supplies. “Focus more on the centre of the target, not just the target as a whole. And speed. You need more speed. If you use this in combat, she who zaps first wins. Believe me, you do NOT want to be hit by a lightning bolt when building up the charge for one yourself.
“Also, try to mitigate the voltage a bit. Knowing how to crank it down is half the battle in knowing how to crank it up. And cranking it down can also be useful; saved a guy’s life once when we were stuck without a defibrillator.”
After a few tries I’m hitting the target close to the centre with some reliability.
Them Marjorie hits a button and the target moves back. The range markings seem to show a distance of about twenty-five metres.
I try again and the bolt arcs to ground after about twenty metres.
“That was actually pretty good. Longer range than most make.
“Next step is to try hitting the target with a fireball. You have the basics for targeted magic down, now you just try again, with a different element. Keep the power low for now.”
After Marjorie returns behind the barrier, I try sending a quick fireball at the target.
It is quick.
It’s also… suboptimally mitigated.
The far end of the range is enveloped in fire.
Marjorie ducks out from behind the barrier again with her jaw metaphorically dropped to the floor. “That was you controlling it? Please don’t burn down any suburbs if you actually let loose!”
I do at least have the grace to blush. “Er… sorry. Fire is one of the core magics of kitsune, so I think it’s a little stronger than my other elements. I mitigated it down, but only as far as for the lightning bolt from earlier. Not enough, apparently.”
“Well, try again. Gently, this time.” Barrier again.
I try again as earlier, this time dialing it way, way down. The resulting fireball is about the size of a golf ball and hits the target close to its centre.
“Now follow up with a lightning bolt. Quickly!”
I try another lightning bolt and this time it trikes the target exactly where the earlier fireball had struck.
“Brilliant! You seem to be a natural at this.
“Next step.” She brings the target back to about ten metres, then does the same with the targets on the two aisles next to mine.
“Try hitting all three at once. Lightning branches; there’s no reason why you only need to hit one target at a time.”
I manage to get it right after about fifteen minutes. She then has me try with twenty-five metres and various other ranges, then various target combinations, including directions on how and when not to hit certain targets.
“This lets you resolve a hostage situation without harming the victims. Of course, it’s not the sort of thing we do in public, but hopefully if you need to do this then the victims will already be unconscious.
“Now, I’m told you’re also good at illusions and life magic, and can do a bit of air and water magic. Try messing with those a little before we finish up.
“Don’t use life magic yet. Life magic can be insanely dangerous when practiced in ignorance. You need training first.”
Wind by itself is pretty ineffectual. Visions of wind blades are never to be. Where it is useful is an an accelerant for fire attacks… not that they need it. Basically, I can upgrade a disaster to a catastrophe.
I manage to hit the target with wind and water. Water has serious potential for some sort of water cutter arrangement, but I’m not sure it will work with my meager affinity.
I also try just holding a ball of water in place, but there isn’t enough to knock somebody out. I instead hold a ball of water over the erstwhile mouth of the target. That seems to work much better and gives a basic path to follow, one of drowning targets. Or…
I try again, this time holding the strip of water over the “eyes” of the target. Should work as a basic blinding mechanism.
Then I slap my hand over my forehead, and do the same thing with a strip of illusory darkness. Much easier, much less strain. I could instead look at putting a water ball into an opponent’s weapon to effectively disarm them.
I spend the remaining time messing with illusions, with Marjorie providing critical commentary from behind the barrier.
Panels of darkness to blind. Panels of light to dazzle. Clones of targets. Illusions of incoming gunboats. Illusions of companions turning to attack you. Illusions of me dropping down, dead so somebody targeting me seems me as no longer a target.
The potential is massive.
What I can’t do, despite many attempts, is concentrate the light enough to do any direct damage. I probably could pump up the light enough to blind somebody permanently, but… no. Just no.