Dynamis | Chapter 8 - Excuses (Patreon)

A team of doctors pried Ivy from the DF and gently placed her on a gurney. Not a single word was uttered between Lilibelle and Warrick while medical professionals performed vital checks. One man insisted that he look at Warrick’s arm, but he was immediately dismissed, Warrick urging him to instead give Ivy additional care. Lilibelle was pressed as well, and likewise insisted that she was fine. With a single phrase from the leading doctor, he and his associates rushed Ivy to the elevator, Warrick close behind. Lilibelle watched from a distance, one hand on her hip. Warrick entered the elevator alongside the doctors, giving Lilibelle one last glare before the doors shut.

“Asshole,” Lilibelle murmured to herself. Of any trait, pride was the one she most detested in a person. Rank didn’t mean a damned thing when you couldn’t keep it together in a crisis, and after seeing such deplorable camaraderie—not to mention, sheer disrespect to their junior—on display, she could firmly say that she was not impressed. “Burn up in your cockpit for all I care.”

She balled her hands, spun on her heel, turning her back to the ghosts of Warrick and Ivy, then made her way to another elevator some ways down the path. As she approached, the elevator dinged, and engineers and mechanics spilled out, hurrying past her to the DF.

One of them stopped and caught her by the shoulder. “Hey, hold on. Are you the Desperado’s conductress?”

Lilibelle plucked his hand from her shoulder and dropped it. “Do I look like the conductress?” She turned to her side and pointed down the hall at the elevator Warrick and Ivy disappeared behind. “The conductors left through there.”

The man sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “Any way you could bring them back up here?”

Lilibelle cocked one brow and crossed her arms. “They’re receiving medical attention as we speak. It’s going to be a while before you hear from them. Their names are Warrick and Ivy.”

“All right, I’ll leave you be, then.” Just as the elevator was closing, he used his foot to stop it. The doors opened, and he gestured with a wave of his hand. “Take it easy.”

“Mhm.” She entered the elevator and pushed the full force of her thumb against the button for the ground floor. She leaned against the wall and waited. Seconds passed and still the doors wouldn’t close. “Oh, come on!” Pushing away from the wall, she mashed one of the buttons to shut the door. The doors slid shut.

She tapped her foot in hopes of alleviating the anger she felt as the elevator hummed its way down. She replayed the scenes from her ride-along over and over again, wondering if she said enough, if there was something more she could’ve done.

No, calm down. You made the right choice. They have nothing on you now. She drew a deep breath through her nose, then steadily released it through her mouth. You can detail the events in your report. Let the higher-ups decide what they want to do.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal Professor Gerald Almezer; one of the last people she wanted to see right now.

“Just who I was looking for.” He stepped to his side and gestured with his hand for her to follow. “Come with me.” Lilibelle pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, then reluctantly joined him outside. “We have some things we need to discuss.”

Lilibelle cupped the lid over her boiling fury and walked alongside the man. “What is this about?”

“First, a question.” It was always questions with Gerald. If not questions, then insistence. “Has anyone discussed Karl Donovan’s whereabouts with you?”

“I just got back,” she snapped, “so of course not. Why?”

Gerald and Lilibelle stepped around an incoming mechanic. “Karl’s unit was supposed to dock over an hour ago. We located a faint distress signal from another DF in the area, but its signatures don’t match any of our units. Did you notice anything peculiar during your ride-along?”

Lilibelle clenched her teeth and cursed herself silently. For as long as she could remember, she occasionally had these senses, these premonitions that she struggled to explain. They came to her sporadically and without any sort of pattern. Sometimes they would be as simple as gut feelings, and others they were vivid images of what could be.

There were a handful of times she tried to explain them to her father, who initially dismissed them as childish fantasies. As she got older, and the images grew in vividness, her father began to take her more seriously, insisting that she keep these feelings and images between them. At the time, she didn’t understand why, but as a young woman, she now understood. 

Like anyone would ever take me seriously, she thought.

From the very moment this day had begun she’d received another of her premonitions. Something about the operation felt wrong and she clawed at the walls of her mind to figure out what. All she knew was that Karl was involved somehow, so she scrambled for ideas. It had proven difficult to set aside her criticisms in the interest of keeping him safe. She’d hoped that by being nicer, wishing him good luck on his ride-along, giving him the time needed to prove he was a worthy co-conductor might change things.

But her actions hadn’t done a damned thing.

“Unusual how?” Lilibelle asked.

Gerald’s gaze veered. “Anything Fiend-related.”

She squinted. “No. Should I have?”

“If you didn’t, then I would count yourself among the lucky few. We received some concerning reports and think it may be why some of the conductors are missing. I am telling you this only because your partner happens to be one of them.” He pushed a lip against his lips. “So keep that between us.”

She sighed. “So, he’s missing in action, then.”

“Yes. Reasonably, we assume he’s somewhere around the operation site, but we don’t know for sure.” Gerald led her to the central path, and started toward the end of the hangar. Sparks rained from above with the plethora of mechanics setting to work. Lilibelle’s face pulled into a frown from the sheer number of DFs with significant damage. The Desperado was far from the only unit that had taken considerable damage, and there were still Frames that had yet to be accounted for. “Word is spreading that this was a coordinated attack somehow. I have my doubts.”

“Hm. Has any contact been attempted with the conductors that are still missing?”

Gerald shook his head and approached the doors at the end of the hall. “Nothing direct. A few distress signals have been located, but that’s all.” The doors hissed open, and Lilibelle followed him inside. They were out of the hangar, and at last Lilibelle could hear herself think.

Gerald stopped in a section of the hallway where a row of comfortable chairs waited. He gestured to the one closest, and Lilibelle sat down. Gerald took the seat beside her, leaning slightly to his side, hands clasped, brow knitted.

“With how active the Fiends have been as of late,” Gerald said, “there’s been some concern that even the smallest transmission could bring them straight to us.” He sighed. “Because of that, long distance communication has been put on indefinite hold until we can formulate a plan.”

“That’s absurd. Transmissions that feature wide-gap intervals have proven successful for years.” She scoffed. “They would rather abandon their conductors, their DFs, all because—”

“Miss Katsun,” he said firmly, looking her in the eye. “If the Fiends ever coordinated an attack on Deadeye, it would be a bloodbath. This facility would be abandoned the same day.” He wrung his hands, glanced at the floor, then looked back up at her. It was weird to see him so fidgety. “We’d be lucky if anyone survived.”

She frowned. “But this place is made of pure concrete and steel. Deadeye has said on countless occasions that it’s impenetrable.”

Gerald smiled wryly. “You’re young, but I think even you know that that’s just what they say to keep up morale.” His speech slowed, and the expression in his eyes grew distant. “This place is made of a multi-layered mix of concrete, steel, and copper for no other reason than it’s the most effective method to block and trap any transmissions made within the facility. That’s all.”

“Then we’re just going to wait and hope for the best?” Lilibelle asked. Gerald nodded, and her upper lip twitched. What nonsense. “That’s bullshit.” She shot to her feet and balled her hands at her sides. “Karl is Harmonic, just like me. Does Deadeye not care about losing him?”

“Of course they do, but you have to understand the greater risk—”

“Send a helicopter, then. Disable all of the transmission equipment if it makes you feel better. Humans were able to do it thousands of years ago. Don’t see why we can’t do it now.”

“They won’t approve of that,” Gerald said, shaking his head and rising to his feet. “They could be wandering that forest for hours. There’s also the matter of resources.”

“Take it out of my stipend, then.”

“Miss Katsun, without the proper tracking equipment—”

“Use your eyes, then. Did you forget how to use them? Or does that need approval as well?”

Gerald furrowed his brow. “You watch your tone. You have no idea how severe the situation is right now.”

“All I’m hearing are excuses.” She held Gerald’s stare as she waited for a response. Karl was as timid and eyeroll-inducing as they came, but he was still her partner, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, he was intelligent as hell and a quick learner. There was potential there, and she wasn’t about to let some old fart get in her way. “If you won’t make the request, then I will.”

The tension hung between them like a bomb with its timer removed. Ticking, waiting to explode. Lilibelle ground her teeth, and the enamel whined. Gerald sighed, pinched his beard thoughtfully, and at last his shoulders relaxed.

“Fine,” Gerald relented. Atta boy. “I make no promises though.”

“Oh, you should probably let them know one last thing,” she said, raising her finger.

“What’s that?”

“I’m going with.”