Dynamis | Chapter 14 - Friends (Patreon)

Lilibelle’s kneejerk reaction was to stand up in front of the class and debate with Instructor Kuuna. These new protocols felt like a slap in the face after they’d just spent the same week emphasizing how important it was not to switch partners. An intimate bond was built between the conductors and their DF, and coming between that was psychologically dangerous. Of course, there were some conductors who just didn’t pair well together. In those cases, both conductors would be assigned a new partner, then observed carefully.

But to switch on the regular? Lilibelle had hoped that if she’d put in a request early enough, then she could swap Karl out for someone else. She’d intended for that to be a permanent solution, given the dangers of the DF interface. This… this isn’t what I wanted.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Karl asked, raising his hand. He gently pushed his chair back as he stood. Maybe it was his choice of clothes, but he carried a stoic air about him that Lilibelle didn’t often feel. “I’m not an expert on the intricacies by any means, but I’ve done my research. The DF interface is an intimate system, designed to meld the wavelengths of the conductors. Everything I’ve read says that anything less than an eighty percent match is cause for concern. Am I wrong?”

Kuuna visibly squirmed under his scrutiny. “You are not. I am no more happy about this than you are.” He sighed and leaned against his desk. “I am merely reporting it to you. Like I said prior, the details have yet to be finalized.”

The conversation went back and forth like that for a while. Karl and a couple of the other students continued to prod Kuuna for additional information regarding the DF interface and how new pairs would be determined. Kuuna had few answers. Many more of the students, however, were concerned about the new Sovereign threat and whether or not the DFs were equipped to deal with such titans.

DFs had become an integral part of every mercenary force. Whether the goal was to eliminate the Fiend threat or earn some extra credits, everyone could agree they were a force to be reckoned with. Their sheer utility alone was enough to ask the most exorbitant of prices. Even so, every machine had its limits, and DFs were no different.

Innumerable DFs had been brought low by the Fiend threat. What chance would they have against a Sovereign, who could command all of the lesser Fiends around it?

Kuuna glanced up at the clock. “Let’s call it early today. You all have a lot to think about, and I’d like to give you the day to consider everything I’ve said.” He coughed into his fist, looking at a few of the students, but never maintaining eye contact for more than a moment. Lilibelle felt a glare coming on when his gaze landed on her, and she relaxed her face. “Tomorrow is going to be tough. I ask that you be patient with not only me, but with Deadeye. A lot is going to change, and very quickly.” His lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Kuuna turned and left, kicking the doorstop down for the rest of the class. Apathy possessed the students as they rose from their seats. Most of them remained silent while a select few whispered to their assigned partners. The enthusiasm, the drive, the human spirit had been snuffed out by a single lecture. All that hung in the air now was foreboding melancholy.

Lilibelle rose from her seat, and her legs immediately protested. To her surprise, Karl and Millie approached, the latter with her hands behind her back.

“We’re going to get lunch. Do you want to join us?” Karl asked.

Lilibelle blinked. “What? Why?”

“Together is better?” Karl said, shrugging. The apathy was just as present in his face as it was in Millie’s and the other students who had left. “After that bombshell, I figure all of us could use some company. Besides, I owe you for last night.”

Lilibelle couldn’t understand. With over twenty students in the class, she’d bet her credits that the new pairing arrangement would see them paired up significantly less frequently. Shouldn’t he have been happy to be rid of her? There was no reason to be friendly anymore.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Lilibelle said, looking away. “I just did what any partner would’ve done.”

Karl chuckled. “I doubt that.” He tapped at a groove in the floor with the toe of his shoe and waited. “If you really don’t want to, I’ll leave you alone. But you look how I feel.”

“Well, aren’t you the charmer,” Lilibelle spat.

“You look like you need a friend,” Millie said barely above a mumble.

Lilibelle relented with a sigh. “Fine.”

“Do you think they repurposed the mud outside?” Karl asked as the ‘food’ dribbled off the tip of his spoon into the bowl below.

“They must have,” Lilibelle said.

“Why is it so… murky?” Millie asked.

From what Karl had heard, the cook that was usually responsible for their meals—Emil—had taken the day off due to a cold. That meant Charley was involved, and when Charley was involved, that meant minimal effort and maximum nutrition. Or, so it was said.

Karl bravely shoveled the ‘oatmeal’ into his mouth and chewed. It had more in common with expired milk than it did with oats. Bits of what resembled the texture of oats swam in his mouth, but it was devoid of the cinnamon that Hector usually added to the meals. He glanced at Lilibelle and Millie—both of whom sat across from him—then briefly looked at the students the table over, who appeared to be having the same experience.

“No sleep, bad news, and terrible food. This day just keeps getting better and better,” Karl grumbled as he forced the food down his throat and dropped the spoon in his half-finished bowl. He set his elbow on the table and leaned into his palm. “Don’t let me fall asleep.” He shut his eyes. “Just getting a wink.”

“You’re just going to make it worse,” Lilibelle said. “On days like these you have to keep moving. If you stop for even a moment, you lose.”

Karl lazily opened his eyes. “Is that your solution to everything?”

“What?”

Karl shook his head. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, you meant something by that.” Lilibelle’s spoon clinked into her bowl. “What did you mean?”

Karl blinked and yawned. “That high strung approach to everything. Do you ever relax?”

Millie giggled, and Lilibelle glared. “Sorry.”

“Of course I do. I relax all the time,” Lilibelle spat. “I can relax with the best of them.”

“Is that so?” He yawned again. Lilibelle was missing a bit of that spark she usually carried, which was a nice change if he was being honest. He wondered if he might see some other part of her now that she had an excuse to settle down for a bit. “What do you do to relax?”

Lilibelle raised one brow, glanced to her side, then said, “I like to craft jewelry.”

“Oh, me too,” Millie said excitedly as she clapped her hands together. “What kind of jewelry?”

Lilibelle fingered one of the spirals hanging from her ears. “M-Mostly earrings.”

Millie gasped. “Did you make the ones you’re wearing?” Lilibelle nodded, and refused to look at Millie. Millie, however, scooted closer so that their shoulders touched. “Goodness, they’re gorgeous! How do you do it?”

“I-I mostly pilfer the materials from the scrapheap.”

Karl frowned. “Isn’t that—”

“Isn’t that what?” Lilibelle said, slowly turning her head and glowering.

“Never mind.”

The scrap heap was strictly off limits to anyone without express permission, especially those who were still in-training. Mechanics and engineers usually sifted through it for anything useful, and anything left over was typically melted down or repurposed. Unless you were a mechanic or engineer, the heap was off limits. If Captain Veren or Admiral Chovek ever caught wind that a student was stealing from the heap, there’d be hell to pay.

“What’s bad about that?” Millie asked. “It’s just scrap, right?”

She really doesn’t know? They told us this on the first day of class.

“Don’t do what Lilibelle does,” Karl said. “Do as she says, not as she does.”

“Bite me,” Lilibelle said, creating a few inches of distance between her and Millie. She crossed her arms, when her stare locked onto something behind him.

Karl turned just as a metal tray slammed onto the cafeteria table beside him. “Jeez!” he hissed, recoiling from the sound. Lilibelle and Millie shared similar reactions, the former growling her dissatisfaction. He looked at the manicured hands responsible for the act, and followed them to see a girl with a dark green jacket and a black tank top that hugged her generous curves. “Daidari?”

“You’re a popular one,” Daidari said, her eyes veering toward Millie and Lilibelle for a fraction of a second.

“Hardly,” Karl said, scratching the back of his head. “Was there something you needed?”

“We’re kind of busy here,” Lilibelle said, gesturing with her hand like she was swatting away a fly. “Shoo.”

“I wish to partake in merriment. Will you permit me to sit?”

Karl fought away the frown coming on. Daidari didn’t seem to want anything to do with him when they spoke last. “Uhhh, sure.”

“You have my thanks,” Daidari said.

Karl gestured to the girls, expecting Daidari to take a seat beside them. Instead, she squeezed herself onto the end of the bench next to him and nudged his shoulder.

“Please make room,” she said. Taking more effort than he liked to admit, he pushed his bowl of slop to the side and slid down the bench. “Thank you.”

A few seconds of silence passed while Daidari nibbled at her oatmeal, which she had partitioned into the six tiny compartments of her tray. A curious voice asked Karl to inquire further, but considering how their last conversation went, he decided to leave well enough alone.

“You were saying?” Karl said, flicking his head toward Millie.

“A-Ah! Right. I like to make bracelets.” She pulled back the sleeve of her red sweater to show off a bracelet made from beads of every color of the rainbow. They clicked with the spin of her wrist, the stringent white light glinting in the make. “This is my newest one!”

A hint of curiosity decorated Lilibelle’s face as she leaned toward Millie to have a better look. “Where did you get the beads?” Lilibelle asked.

“A friend of mine,” she said, her voice taking on a sullen tone, “but he’s not here anymore, so I have to figure something else out.” She pulled the sleeve back over the bracelet and returned to her bowl of food, which was made all the more depressing to look at after her comment.

Probably her partner, if I had to guess.

“I’ll see what I can find next time,” Lilibelle said, pulling her lips into a thin line. “There’s plenty of material to work with.”

“You would do that for me?” Millie said, gripping Lilibelle by the sleeve of her shirt.

Lilibelle averted her gaze and curled a lock of her blonde hair around her finger. “S-Sure. Why not?”

“Thank you. Really,” she said softly.

Nothing like a crisis to bring everyone together, Karl thought, amazed at the level of humanity on display from Lilibelle. Feeling a little generous, he decided to throw her a bone and break her out of her discomfort. “So, what do you guys think of the new pairing arrangement?”

“I don’t like it,” Millie said, the moody tone returning to her voice.

“It’s a great opportunity,” Daidari said, shoveling another spoonful of food into her mouth. She chewed on it for a few seconds, then added, “It will allow us to bond more closely, see everyone as a team.”

Karl nodded, wondering if Daidari felt that way only because she hadn’t been assigned a partner yet. Being the third Harmonic in the classroom, finding a suitable match for her had been difficult.

“Of course it’s a great opportunity,” Lilibelle said. “More partners means that over time we’ll all become more compatible.” Her gaze was fastened to her food the entire time she spoke. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the words coming out of her mouth sounded forced. “If someone dies during an operation, that person doesn’t have to spend weeks, maybe months, locating a new partner.”

Is that what you really think? If it hadn’t been for her, there was a good chance he’d be dead by now. Her actions weren’t those of a person who was looking for an excuse to partner up with someone else. Even after what happened last night?

Much as he hated to admit it, maybe this situation would prove to be fruitful. It was kind enough already that Lilibelle was willing to give him two weeks to prove he was a solid partner, but even that had felt condescending. No one would argue her ability in the cockpit, but her attitude still needed a major readjustment. With the Sovereigns adding a new factor to consider, he wasn’t sure he was willing to put up with her.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Karl said frigidly.

“What do you think?” Millie asked.

Karl leaned back slightly, catching the rim of the bench with the backs of his knees. He kept one hand on top of the other, and took his time in formulating his opinion. It took a lot of effort to drag his mind away from the thought of sleep. In the end, despite his best attempts to see where Deadeye was coming from, he found he couldn’t agree with their decision.

“I think it’s a bad idea,” he said. “The systems are designed to create a bond between the two conductors. Disrupting that has proven to be catastrophic in the worst cases, and inarguably dangerous even in minor ones. Much as we may hate to admit it sometimes, we can get a sense of what the other person is feeling, how they’re coping, what they’re thinking.” He shook his head. “Some of the best relationships I know were those built between DF conductors. Coming between that could create problems.”

“What problems do you speak of?” Daidari asked. “If we remain shackled to our partners, hold them closely enough that we refuse to let anyone else near them, would that not be a problem in itself? We don’t own our partners. Would this not be a great chance to embolden our spirits? To rise above the Fiend threat and work together as a team instead?”

I didn’t say we owned our partners. He looked at Lilibelle, then Daidari. In no world could he see either of them as romantic partners. Friends, maybe. Very strained friendships. Then he looked at Millie. She had soft skin and delicate features. Her eyes contrasted beautifully with her red hair, and the way the sweater hugged her curves was tantalizing. It was easy to fantasize what a relationship with her would look like, and even easier to imagine how he would feel if another man came between them.

“I think the bond is too intimate to allow for that,” Karl said, hoping he’d gotten the point across without directly saying it. “Unless the pair consents to it, I think you’re going to have a hard time convincing the average person that this is a good thing.”

“Perhaps it’s better that it is done now, then, when we’re still learning about one another,” Daidari insisted. She had a regal way about her, as if every word she spoke needed to be enunciated and delivered with the highest of grace. It put Karl on edge, as if his viewpoints were constantly being challenged. “The simulations are simply that: simulations. If we are to build our camaraderie, then would it not be best done before attachments are formed?”

Karl struggled to concoct a counterpoint. It made sense when she said it like that. Until now, all they’d experienced were the simulations and the occasional ride-along, the latter of which provided no such bond. The simulations could only accomplish so much. Until he was in the seat of a true DF alongside Lilibelle, there was no telling as to what it would feel like.

“Maybe,” Karl said, “but it makes me uncomfortable.”

“You’ll come around,” Daidari said with an air of confidence that boiled his blood.

“Maybe you will,” he said, then immediately cursed himself. He’d been up too long. Every little thing was getting under his skin. “Let’s switch topics, please,” he said in an attempt to pivot away from the conflict.

“Yes. Perhaps that’s for the best.”

Karl resumed his meal while Lilibelle and Millie tried to strike up a conversation with Daidari. Every one of Daidari’s responses was cold as ice, needlessly professional, and spoken as if she were conversing with children instead of her peers. Karl drummed his fingers along the rim of the table while he listened, trying to feign interest. He waited a minute, maybe two, after he was finished eating, then got up to leave.

“I should head back to my room,” he said.

“Would you like some company?” Millie asked, clasping her hands together.

“No thanks. I’ll talk to you all later.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

Karl stepped back, over the bench, and waved casually on his exit. As soon as he was out of the cafeteria, he leaned his back against the wall beside the entrance and took a deep breath. His fuse was short as hell, and all it would take was one minor inconvenience to set him off. He couldn’t afford to let anyone see him like that.

Now that he was outside, however…

“That cold, calculating snake,” he hissed under his breath, the image of Daidari’s face resurfacing in his head. It was so much more cathartic to hear the sound of his own voice rather than keep the thought broiling in his mind. Keeping his lips sealed made him feel like he wasn’t allowed to speak, wasn’t allowed to feel. By voicing how he felt out loud, however, he would feel a modicum of relief wash over him. He just had to be careful no one overheard him.

He exhaled the breath he’d been holding, and soon the tenseness in his shoulders alleviated. Once he was sure he could travel the halls without snapping at someone, he pushed away from the wall and started for the elevator. There was still the matter of whether or not his report was sufficient, and he was willing to bet it wouldn’t be long before Admiral Chovek wanted a more thorough explanation of the events.

Not that there’s much more to tell.

“Karl?” Lilibelle’s voice stopped him in his tracks. He shut his eyes, quickly composed himself, then opened his eyes and turned around. “What are you still doing here?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you need something?” he asked.

A three-note chime sounded over the intercom. Following was Admiral Chovek’s gravelly voice. “Karl Donovan and Lilibelle Katsun, report to Admiral Chovek’s office in the west wing. I repeat, Karl Donovan and Lilibelle Katsun, report to Admiral Chovek’s office in the west wing.”

I guess the nap will have to wait until later.