Chapter 7, Part 5: Training Continues

        Antoinette spent the first hours after breakfast the next day with Dr. Carter, continuing her testing but more often just talking about her past and her feelings. When their session ended, he leaned back. “How are you and Tracker getting along?”
        Her lips curved in a soft smile. “I love him. I do not think he understands about love. I am having to teach him and it is a wonderful adventure for the both of us.” She sat, lost in thought for a moment. “Steve? Is there any reason, in the rules or the customs of the Base, that Tracker and I should not let others know we are in love?”
        He shook his head. “None whatsoever. If anyone does have a problem with it, they need to deal with it.”
        She smiled and stood up. “Thank you, Steve. I thought so.” She opened the door and looked out.
        Her face lit up. “Tracker,” she called, then ran to him.
        As the door closed, Doctor Carter smiled. “If anyone can break through the prison of his conditioning and free his emotions, it would be someone like you,” he said to her vanished form. “Good luck.” He turned to the communicator.
        The screen came to life and Doctor DeAlvarez raised her head. “Yes, Doctor?”
        ”The loyalty bond we were hoping for has developed,” Doctor Carter said. “Antoinette just told me she’s in love with Tracker and that they spent last night together.
        ”Even more significantly, Tracker was watching her with a clear expression of love on his face. I hope her influence will weaken Castile’s conditioning so he can come to see himself as equal to humans.”
        DeAlvarez smiled a thin-lipped smile of satisfaction. “Excellent, Doctor. Excellent. The Colonel’s team did a good day’s work when they recruited her. Not only have we gained a very vivid member, but Tracker is getting a chance to open up and grow. Report any new developments, please.”
        He nodded. “Will do, ma’am. Carter out.”

        Tracker and Antoinette reached the Training Room early that evening. Two technicians were making last-minute checks on the equipment as they arrived. One of them saw her and whistled, then came over. “You Miss Duval?” She nodded. “Thought so. I’m George Harlow. The big C gave us a buzz about ya. Said you’d be making the ‘bot-bust.”
        She frowned, puzzled. “Pardonez-moi? I do not understand.”
        ”Colonel Carfield said you’d be here for the workout.”
        She nodded as comprehension dawned on her face. “Eh, bien! The big C — the Colonel Carfield.” She laughed. “That does not sound very respectful. And what means the ‘bot-bust’?”
        ”‘bot, robot. You guys bust up so many robots that a Training Room workout with robots is called a ‘bot-bust. You’ve got a nice accent. You French?”
        She nodded. “Oui, m’sieur. Who else will be at this ‘bot-bust?”
        ”Well, lemme see,” George said as he checked his notepad. “Louis, Marsha and Magnum, as well as you and Tracker. Well, I’d better get back to work; the show’s about to start. See ya.” With a wave, he returned to his work.
        She looked around at the sound of Louis’s heavy footfall. He smiled at her. “Hi,” he rumbled.
        She smiled back. “‘allo, Louis.”
        She turned to see Magnum and Marsha. Magnum walked over, carrying his helmet by its chin-strap. “Hi, Antoinette. Finished reading the transcript of the last training mission. Other than the problem of killing those civilians, you did a fine job on it. Congratulations.”
        She blushed. “Thank you, m’sieur.”
        Frank Austin came out of the control room, a clipboard in his hand. “Okay. Here’s the gig. One hostage, one to three villains, and a bunch of innocent bystanders. Rescue the hostage, capture the villains, don’t hurt the locals. Antoinette, your main job is to tell ‘em apart. Louis, work on speed. Try to get into the fight before it’s over. Everyone, teamwork is the watchword. Try to herd the fight to Louis, try to communicate with Tigresse. Go on in and warm up. Things could begin any time.”
        Several small buildings stood in two clusters in the enormous room. Antoinette stripped and put her clothes in a cabinet. Magnum had his helmet on and secured by the time she rejoined them. Now he was touching his toes with the flats of his hands. She dropped into a split and bent forward to touch her forehead to the floor.
        In the control room, George exclaimed, “Bill! Take a look at the body on that French chick! Lordy, she’s enough to give a stone statue wet dreams. Look at her! Not a bikini mark in sight. She must sunbathe in the nude. Damn, I wish I had a camera!”
        ”There’s one in my locker,” Bill Johnson replied as he watched her.
        Frank Austin looked up. “Take pictures if you must, but if you slack off on your work, you’ll be in Custodial for a month, scrubbing toilets. And you’d better be certain you have her permission first.”
        ”Sure thing, boss,” George said. He picked up the mike and keyed the directional speaker. “Antoinette?”
        She looked up, startled. “Oui?”
        ”This is George. Do you mind if I take some pictures of you? You are gorgeous!”
        She smiled and shrugged, breasts bobbing. “But non. Take the pictures, if you like.” She back-rolled to her feet and arched her back as she stretched. Muscles rippled liquidly under her bare skin.
        Suddenly she tensed, vividly aware of peril nearby. “Danger!” she shouted, leaping away as her figure blurred with the shapechange. Tigresse snarled and bared her fangs as Tracker drew his sword, nose working to catch any scent.
        A figure burst out of the door of one of the buildings, hurled a small object at them, and ducked back inside. Louis flung himself on the grenade as the others scattered. There was a muffled explosion, then he got up, the front of his bodysuit blackened from the training charge. He brushed at it, muttering. Several figures milled about between the buildings. One of them shot at Marsha with a pistol and missed. Tigresse charged after the one that had thrown the grenade.
        Magnum yelled, “Marsha, go right. Louis, come left with me. Tracker, go with Tigresse.”
        Tigresse dove through the wall of the building. Inside, several figures screamed and scattered. One hit her with a chair. She snarled and cuffed him aside, claws retracted, then leaped on a man holding a blaster in one hand and a bound figure in the other. He fired and she snarled with pain as the beam scored on her shoulder. Then the door burst inward as Tracker crashed through.
        The man dropped his captive and spun towards Tracker, firing at him. Tracker’s force field whined as it absorbed the beam. Springing forward, with his sword whirling over his head, he chopped down, freezing the sword an inch from the robot’s skull. “Robot down,” he ordered. The robot collapsed. Tigresse sprang on the captive, dragged her away, and crouched over her protectively.
        The man who had thrown the grenade started towards Tigresse. She snarled, a sound like ripping canvas, as she dared him to try taking the hostage back. He stopped out of reach, then turned and ran out the door with Tracker in pursuit.
        Tigresse went to the broken door and looked out. She kept part of her attention on the captive and the other two unarmed occupants of the room. One of them started towards the captive. Tigresse snarled and sprang to block him.
        ”I just want to untie her,” he said. “She’s my girlfriend.” Tigresse growled again, crouching and extending one forepaw in a stalk. The one who spoke to her backed away, in fear. Tigresse glared at him, then backed up a step and watched suspiciously as he moved forward again to untie the hostage.
        By the time the hostage was free, the fight was over. “Very good,” came Frank Austin’s voice. “Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, success and no casualties. Now, a little straight knuckle-busting and skeet-shooting to fill out your hour. Let me clean up the mess while you take a breather.”
        The robots that had been the ‘people’ started carrying the buildings out through a door in the wall. Tigresse sat and watched as she calmed herself for the changeback. She blurred and Antoinette stood up.
        ”Antoinette, no!” Magnum shouted. “Stay alert!” Her sense of danger thrilled through her mind. She dove forward, the great cat coming out of the roll as a wall-mounted laser fired where she’d been. Magnum fired back and disabled the weapon. Other weapons appeared around the walls and ceiling and began to fire at them.
        After almost an hour of this with intermittent breaks for a breather, the lights in the Training Room blinked twice. “Okay, folks. Time’s up. See you all later.” Magnum pulled off his helmet, breathing hard, and wiped his face with the back of his hand. Tigresse shapechanged and Antoinette rose to her feet, stretching. Her body glistened with sweat. Louis tossed her a towel from a locker by the door. She smiled her thanks and rubbed down, then dressed.
        The door opened and Sasha came in. She walked with her usual springy quickness and her sled glided behind her at shoulder-height. She smiled at the others and embraced Louis. He smiled fondly and scratched between her shoulders. She squirmed and arched her back.
        Then she turned to Antoinette and touched palms with her. “Friend Ahn-toinette,” she said in her sibilant voice. “Hunting wass good?” The tip of her tail twitched with excited tension.
        ”Friend Sasha, oui, the hunting was good,” Antoinette replied. Sasha smiled again, a predatory glint in her eye, and sprang onto her sled. She zigzagged, looped, and rolled like a crazed dragonfly, the sled not bound by the rules of aerodynamics. Then she shot back to hover above Louis’s head.
        ”Okay, Sasha,” Frank Austin said over the intercom. “Shoot red targets, do not shoot blue targets. The rest of you, clear out or join in. Take your pick.” They moved hastily out through the door as the sled darted into the middle of the Training Room.
        As Tracker closed the door, Antoinette saw a red-painted gun snap up out of the floor and fire. The sled shot out of the way, almost too fast to see, then whipped over in a neck-snapping Immelmann and blasted the gun.