The Lost Canaries

Chapter 14: Charlevoix

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – JAMES

CHARLEVOIX

I sneak out of the living dome, race along a hallway, and reach the open steel door leading into the Diamond Temple. My eyes have scanned the Diamond Temple hundreds of times but never voluntarily. The Miners' secret training center, closed to CANARY civilians, is a colossal space with an expansive floor resembling a thick sheet of ice. The diamond-shaped ceiling and surrounding walls are painted periwinkle. Four marble support posts keep the ceiling from crumbling. A rock for rappelling exercises lies in the center of the facility. Up on a balcony, a circular silver door leads into the Universal Tube's simulation launchpad. Weightlifting areas and exercise machines litter the floor beneath the balcony. Other training structures around the room include a wall climb, belly crawl, separated staircase, rope descent, and monkey bars. A rubber track outlines the entire facility. At my right, three doors lead into the swimming pool, indoor shooting range, and military classroom.

Bradley registers Miners for their workouts near the entrance. Tilly Tartar scribbles the names for attendance at his side. "Keep at your training, and you'll be on everyone's mission shortlist," Bradley says to the first soldier in line, who just happens to be my brother.

Phillip glares at me, as if I were invading his territory. "What are you doing here? You trying to embarrass me again?"

"Thought I'd come in for a free lift."

Phillip scoffs and puffs up his chest. "Come on... who's blackmailing you?"

I peer down at the callous on my right index finger and suddenly wish the bump were not there. "You know what, Phillip? You were right all along about me. And I'm sorry." Phillip's jeering smile disappears, replaced by a melancholy expression. His eyes find the floor as he walks away without a word to hit the weights.

Bradley's eyes widen at my arrival. "James?!"

"Reporting for duty, General," I tease with a salute.

"Wha—? You never come to optional training times!" His chiseled jaw breaks into an overenthusiastic grin.

"I know. And obviously I haven't earned priority placement yet, but any mission coming down the pipeline... I'm more than willing...."

"You know that's not my decision, James," Bradley says as Tilly scribbles down my name.

"I know... Just wanted to say the words."

The general gives me a heartfelt salute. "Get in there, soldier!"

Over the next few weeks, I put the library to rest and make the Diamond Temple my new home. I draw myself a down-to-the-minute training schedule. Any hour of the day, I am pummeling through military drills. Training gives me the same manic outlet writing always did. I guess with a mind as hyperactive as mine, the body eventually catches up when I funnel my energy in the right direction.

After a while, my hands feel different holding the equipment, as if they were suddenly extensions of my own arms. The bench presses, free weights, and other machines become a whole new playground for me. I sweat so much on the elliptical one day that Bradley has to hose it down. The soles on my shoes wear away from hours running the track. When I slip on the rappelling rock and open a gash across my calf, I hobble through the rainforest to the Medical Circuit, get patched up, and immediately hotfoot back to training. Again and again I practice. Wall climb. Belly crawl. Separated staircases. Monkey bars. Laps in the swimming pool. Rounds at the shooting range. Training simulations inside the Universal Tube. I obsessively check and correct my technique over and over again. Every morning, I annoy Mariah until she comes train with me. And every night, I head to the Manitous to help Woody in his recovery.