Ravana's Shadow (16) (Patreon)

A bit of an Author's Note is in order before you read this. As you probably realize, the versions of stories posted here are early drafts, and may not reflect the final versions I publish. This story is one I plan to sell one day, like all the not-fanfic here. In the editing process, we made a very major revision that required writing a new chapter, but that chapter doesn't exist yet.

As such, you need to be aware that prior to this chapter, a new chapter will exist where Kit meets with Morgan, the new name that Wren has taken. She's taken a slightly modified shape, an 80% template that is a weasel instead of an ermine (ie: brown instead of white), with short hair. She has not told the other colonists that she is the same person, and only Kit and Maddie realize this. Everyone else thinks she is a different member of the first generation Kit managed to recruit for the space mission.

This chapter does not exist yet, but rather than hold off the entire story, just pretend it does. It would happen just before this, and introduce Morgan seamlessly to the story.

Activity in the Institute grew from a quiet murmur to a roar. Where once most labs were silent and colonists wandered aimlessly, now all had purpose. Kit watched from her window in the Director's office as the promenade beyond turned into a crowded forum. Colonists from every discipline packed the automated cafes and parks as they compared notes and worked together on their common cause.

Kit couldn't offer advice to most of them—even the least senior colonist was far more knowledgeable in their fields than Kit. 

Instead, she made regular circuits between labs and public spaces, offering a very different kind of help.

Kit couldn't design a rocket, but she could make sure that every colonist felt like an important part of the whole. She usually brought Jay with her and carried a clipboard in her arms and a pack of snacks over her shoulder.

Sometimes what her colonists needed was just someone to stand nearby, listening attentively and taking detailed notes. Other times they pushed themselves too hard, and she could give them something cold to drink and orders to go straight to bed.

With Jay at her side, she didn't even have to understand the whole mission at any one point. He kept mental inventory of the whole thing, with a memory more accurate than anything Kit could imagine. 

"Today they're testing a fuel cell prototype," he might say, as soon as she was dressed and ready for work. "After that, Engineering has a simulation for the launch trajectory. They might want you around to authorize any changes." As they moved from one topic to the next, he would tell her what was coming, along with the latest details from whatever team they were meant to see.

She did spend some of her time learning—she was meant to fly that rocket, whenever Forerunner's time-delay made split-second reactions impossible. By the time the Neophyte existed in more than computer simulations and statues, Kit would have to know the ship well enough to operate it.

It took a few weeks, but eventually it was time for Kit to do more than just offer occasional advice and help coordinate more important members of her team. Forerunner called her into one of the service airlocks, a space so large it might as well be its own locker room. 

She found six suits waiting there, each one covered in the thin plastic film of fresh fabrication. Her own was the only exception, freshly washed but still dented and scratched from months of use. The simple cloth bag for her tail had been replaced with a new addition. Now the back had segments of interlocking composite and metal almost as large as the rest of the suit. A true EVA suit built for a squirrel.

"They made it!" she exclaimed, scampering over to the suit. "I don't have to stick my tail in a trash bag anymore!"

Jay poked in behind her, before jogging nervously to catch up. He stopped only when he was close enough to cling to her sleeve, holding on tight. 

"It made sense," Forerunner explained. "The design was mostly complete. Given there are several other members of this expedition who might benefit, it was only logical to fabricate the upgraded EVA suits directly."

Kit took a few steps to the side, dragging Jay with her. The other suits now hung from labeled lockers. They reached Maddie’s first, complete with a fox illustration and a number of cartoon hearts. Her suit was slightly smaller than all the others, albeit with a tail sleeve almost as large as hers. Kit lifted the outer layer away from the inside section, then checked each of the bags with auxiliary connectors. Those sterile seals were critically important, since the suits connected directly to their real bodies. Even Mara's biotemplate could get an infection.

She walked past each one in turn. Sadie’s and Emma’s were bigger than Maddie's, but not by as much as she'd expect. "Will they even fit in these?"

"The Neophyte will only hold 80% templates," Jay said. "Remember? It's all the same, no separate sections. Sadie and Emma will have to downclass."

"Correct," Forerunner said. "I suggest convincing them to make the transition sooner if possible. Adjusting to reduced physical coordination and a stricter cognitive filter takes time. All members of the Neophyte crew will need to be at peak physical condition before you embark. Whatever reluctance they have, you should help them overcome it."

Kit wandered over a few more steps, past Abel's EVA suit to the last one in line. This one had a little predator, like the old director’s ermine, but slightly larger and rounder in the face. "Chase Pine Martin," was printed there next to the images, along with a suit styled for a boy.

"How can I do that? I don't even have all seven members of the crew. Where's the second pilot?"

"I have yet to recover one from Remedial. But your new marine should be ready to integrate with the crew today," Forerunner said. "He has been recovering from upclass to 80% over the last two weeks and seems in good health. You were otherwise engaged."

"Right... the one who introduced me to extreme cooking," Kit said.

"Correct. He has been eager to meet you since arriving on the upper floor, but understood the difficulty of imposing on the Director’s time."

"When can you have everyone here?"

The answer, as it turned out, was very soon indeed. Forerunner already guessed she would want to have the meeting right away. Kit wanted to get her own suit on—but there was no time. Before she could finish peeling away the plastic on her tail, the door banged open, and a pair of colonists entered. Maddie and Abel, both looking like they'd spent the last several days straight working on something important.

The fox had little plastic bits in her long hair, while Abel’s face was smeared with grease along one side.

"Don't ask," Abel announced, his voice flat as usual. "You don't want to know."

"We were testing composite pressure tolerances!" Maddie exclaimed, a little too loudly. "It was great! First it was rumbling like, rmmmmmmmm, then BANG!"

Kit hurried across the locker room, past the newcomers to the narrow shower and rack of towels. Kit knew this place like a second home by now. Including where to find the damp, warm towels, ready to wipe away the grime of a mission. She took one, offering it to Abel.

The rabbit accepted it, sponging away at his face with a deep sigh of satisfaction. "Thank you, Director." 

"You don’t have to tell me why you called," Maddie said. "I know what this is about. Forerunner warned me this morning. Had to dress special for it and everything."

"Why?" Jay asked, peeking out from behind Kit's tail. "You'll leave all your clothes in the locker, right? EVA suits have their own underwear."

Kit flushed, curling her tail around her legs. "It's not underwear. The lower layer is an advanced set of life support systems.” 

The mouse giggled. "Well, there's nothing underneath, so..."

The door slid open again, this time for Emma. She dragged a box behind her, heavy plastic wheels scraping the floor as she went. An insulated cooler of treats?

"You made us something?" Abel asked, tossing the dirty towel away. "I'm starving!"

"After," Emma said, dragging the cooler into a corner. "Not before. Kit said her favorite space food was astronaut ice cream, so..."

Not exactly. Kit had told a story about a kind of freeze-dried treat served long ago, and how it had nothing to do with the space program. Some details had clearly sunk in better than others. "When we get back from space, we can have a treat."

Kit joined her, standing up on tiptoe to whisper into one ear. "We won't go into space this time. I'm just getting everyone familiar with the equipment."

"Oh!" The bunny looked sideways at her, then her ears folded back. "Oh. Okay. I guess you can have some now."

By the time Sadie made it, the little cups of individual ice-cream were already open. Kit handed it to her as she came inside. When she caught Jay peering in vain into the box, she slipped him the one Emma had prepared for her.

Better for her to be without her assistant than miss the evening's adventures.

Finally, the door opened again, and another colonist strode in, practically sprinting in through the door. Maybe he would've been, if there was a little more space for him to get a running start.

"Sorry I'm late!" He stopped short, spinning quickly in place. He looked over each of the room's occupants in turn, before his eyes settled on Kit's tail. He straightened, then brought his hand in front of him with a salute. "Director! Apologies, I was on the other end of the Institute when Forerunner called me. I came as quick as I could."

He had plain brown hair, with faint accents of a creamer color. His tail was thin in the same brown, with a black tuft at the end.

"You're Chase," Kit guessed. "Forerunner said you were up from the basement. I guess you've been down there since I took over."

Chase took one look around the room, at the scattered colonists eating ice cream from little cups on benches. His tail dropped, and he clasped both hands in front of himself. "Yes, Director. Ma'am. Forerunner has been catching me up on the changes since I went into treatment. You're the brave barbarian who took over the Institute, helped us discover that we were alone on Mara, then agreed to send a rocket to rescue another colony. Is all that right?"

Kit scooped his cup out of Emma's freezer, then settled it into his hands. "More or less. You can ask the others here how barbaric I am. I’ll admit I’m more friendly when I’m not covered in mud."

"She gets vicious when we're roleplaying," Abel said, gesturing vaguely towards her with a spoon. "Way worse than the foxes in theirs. Got through months’ worth of adventure in like three weeks."

Kit winced, her tail curling around her legs. It wasn't her fault Abel's villains wanted to conquer their home! Was she not supposed to take the game seriously?

"Sounds just like what we need," Chase said. "Those teeth, that tail. Forerunner made you a rodent. Seems like a waste of potential. Right as we get the Director who can pull us up from decades of stagnation…”

The door opened again, and someone else entered. Morgan was already wearing her suit, everything except the helmet. That meant she was taller than almost everyone, and even equal with Sadie and Emma. Those boots and armor gave several extra centimeters.

If she'd been listening to Callum criticize her, she made no sign. Instead, she nodded to Kit, then wandered over to an open bench and sat down. 

All the energy and excitement vanished from the room in an instant. Everyone stared, some more openly than others.

Kit cleared her throat. "Everyone, this is Morgan. She's a member of the first generation who volunteered to join the Ravana expedition."

"Hi." Jay waved nervously, his hands shaking so hard the plastic spoon slipped out of his fingers. He whimpered, then rushed to scoop it up.

"First generation, huh?" Emma lifted the final cup out of her cooler. "This is yours. Did they still eat ice cream back then?"

Morgan shook her head once. "Keep it, thanks. I'm just here to help the Director if she needs it. She won't need to worry about instructing me."

The others all nodded, looking anywhere but at the imposing new arrival.

All except Maddie, anyway. She stared across the room, never blinking. Then came her thoughts, as though heard through an open door. Only the door was in Kit's head, leading to an unseen grove of burbling water and green grass. 

Her interface implant, the bow Kit wore in her messy red hair, just like the red one Maddie wore in hers. And the orange one wrapped around Morgan's simple ponytail.

"Why are you up here, Wren? You can't be finished with treatment so soon. If we lose you to decoherence..."

Morgan looked up. "You won't, Sunshine. Don't worry about me, let me worry about you."

"Okay." 

Kit looked away suddenly, heat rising to her cheeks. She felt a little like she'd overheard something not meant for her. Wren and Maddie had known each other for a long, long time. Kit still didn't know what happened during those early years. 

Neither did her colonists, judging by their furtive glances in her direction. The addition of ice cream would only keep them calm for so long. 

"Alright, let's get started. I know you all have important things to do, so I won't keep you any longer than I have to. This first lesson is about getting you acquainted with the equipment. Most of us are going to practice getting dressed, then taking it off again. I expect each of you to start wearing part of your suit for one day each week. It starts out very uncomfortable, but you get used to it. I'd rather you do the getting used to it down here where it's safe, and not up in a rocket hurtling through space. Or worse, a dangerous dead colony."

She walked around to the locker, removing her own inner suit from the hook, then holding it up. "I want everyone to grab their own suit while I'm talking. Just the thinner one without the helmet for now. You can follow along while I explain how it all works."

Sadie was the first to speak. She was already near her locker and had the plastic off in a second. She held it up against her chest, sticking her tongue out. "This is the wrong size. Kit, cats aren't this flexible. I can't squeeze into this!"

"No, neither can Emma. We don't have the resources to make an extra set of training gear. This is what you'll wear on the Ravana mission. That means it's sized for the template you'll fly in."

Sadie made a frustrated sound, not quite any specific word. Emma was a little more articulate, bounding a few steps closer to Kit. Close enough to put one hand on her shoulder. "Director, if we downclass for training, we'll lower our capabilities while we can least afford to sacrifice them. Sadie has to coordinate the resources of the Institute on the most difficult mission we've ever done. And I need to prepare a treatment plan for a group of nineteen badly injured humans with limited resources."

Kit nodded. "I know, it sounds difficult. I don't blame you for not wanting to change. But until you do, you'll have to watch our training from the sidelines. Try to follow along if you can."

She turned back to the others, pushing Emma's arm gently away from her shoulder. "I'm going to start with these little bags. These are the interface connectors. Don't open them yet, let me demonstrate how they connect..."