Dynamis | Chapter 19 - Truth (Patreon)

Lilibelle bounced the ball of her foot as the classroom clock ticked. Her mind was consumed by what had happened between Karl and Daidari. She bit her thumbnail, trying to concentrate on the task Instructor Boldwin had set before her. Once in a while, she’d glance to her left at Karl, who was contending with the same test, looking between his laptop screen and his testsheets.

It was nothing, Lilibelle told herself. Even if it had been, what did it matter what Karl did in his spare time? The little squirt needed something to be happy about, right? If his tastes lie within that wretched, cold-blooded woman, then what business was it of hers?

“Engage emergency cutoff switch,” she mouthed to herself as she wrote her answer on the testsheet.

Supposedly, these tests were meant to gauge each student’s current level of knowledge regarding the Dynamic Frame interface. Since Deadeye was adamant about expediting the training process, that meant the entire classroom setting would soon change; and with it, the manner in which the instructors would teach their students. At least, that’s what Instructor Kuuna had claimed.

Lilibelle licked her lips and flipped to the third page—the last page—of her test packet. There was a single question that provided a complex scenario in which the Dynamic Frame was engaged with two other Frames, and had been stripped of its weapons and a reasonable method of escape. Anyone would fairly observe the situation as ‘hopeless.’

A chill swept over her skin and she rubbed her arms to coax it out. She looked to her left just as Karl was shutting his laptop. He flipped through the pages, then turned to his right and got up. He didn’t look in her direction the entire time he walked. Boldwin offered him a curt nod and gestured to an empty spot on his desk. Karl set the packet down then promptly returned to his seat.

Karl practically always finished first. There was a prevailing thought that whoever turned their sheet in first must have gotten several of the questions wrong. Lilibelle had believed it as well. Now, however, she knew that was utter bullshit. In fact, if anything, it seemed more accurate to say that those who finished first usually received better results. Their test scores—never their answers—were public knowledge, after all.

Shaking her head, Lilibelle returned to her task. In the scenario, her thrusters were operational and her shield capacity was still normal. Who would be stupid enough to wait until now to use their shield? Whatever. The Frame was hovering above a forest, which could give her cover in the right circumstances. With two opponents and no weapons, she did the only thing she could think to do: overload the reactor for self-destruction.

She penned a response which involved priming the Dynamic Frame for an explosion, and using the opposition’s fear of getting caught in the blast to make a getaway. With a powerful energy field to protect her, she’d be given the time she needed to make her escape.

Four paragraphs explaining her reasoning and how she would go about the scenario complete, she rose from her seat at the same time Daidari did. Lilibelle scurried to Boldwin’s desk, arriving just barely after Daidari. It was always like this, butting heads with the only other female Harmonic to turn her test in first. The black-haired ice queen neatly placed her packet on top of Karl’s. Boldwin keyed something in on his computer, then nodded. Daidari returned to her desk without so much as a passing glance in Lilibelle’s direction.

With a clenched jaw, Lilibelle placed her packet on top of Daidari’s. Boldwin made the same keystrokes, then nodded for her to go. 

“Five minutes remain,” Boldwin said when Lilibelle was back in her seat.

The mutters and murmurs of confused students heckled the air.

Five minutes? She looked up at the clock with a deep frown. There were still thirty minutes left of class. Boldwin had given them until the class’s end to finish their tests.

Calem, a student with vibrant red hair and emerald eyes raised his hand. “But sir—”

“Five minutes,” Boldwin enunciated. “I won’t say it again, Mister Relzid.”

The students returned to their packets with hushed gasps, the scratching of pencils noticeably louder than before. Anxiety shadowed them like a suffocating blanket; as if each word held some inherent value that couldn’t be measured by mere accuracy alone. The minutes passed, and when the last packet had been delivered, Boldwin rose from his seat with his arms behind his back.

“Excellent work, everyone. You managed to finish on time.” He wore his smile like a mask. The expression was there, but something about it felt uncanny. “One of the defining features of a remarkable mercenary is the ability to adapt to a stressful situation. Whether that situation comes in the form of strapped time, dying loved ones, insurmountable odds, or any other extenuating circumstances, keeping a level head during times of strife will not only save your skin, but those of your comrades as well.” He patted the packets on his desk for effect. “That was part two of today’s test.”

Lars chuckled.

“Something funny, Mister Aldaret?”

“Mister Boldwin,” Lars said, “are you implying that this was designed merely to stress test us?”

Boldwin’s uncanny smile faded. “No, Mister Aldaret. If any of you had failed to turn in your test before the time’s end, I would have expelled you on the spot.”

That had to be a bluff. Every single person in the class had been deemed resonant with DF technologies. To toss them aside would be akin to tossing out free weapons. With the new Sovereign threat, every edge, no matter how small, would matter. Judging from the whispers and pale faces around her, however, it seemed that Boldwin’s bluff had had its desired effect.

“Since all of you managed to turn your tests in on time, however,” Boldwin continued, “no such penalty will be exercised today.” He flicked his head toward the back of the room. “Yes, Mister Sareau?”

Ader cleared his throat. “Do you plan to threaten us on a regular basis, then? Or are you that eager to lose all of your soldiers?”

“If my test upset you so much, then perhaps you should reassess why you’re here,” Boldwin replied sharply. “I’d be happy to voice your complaints to Admiral Chovek if you prefer.”

Ader crossed his arms and clicked his tongue.

“Anyone else wish to voice any grievances?” Boldwin scanned the room for any who would challenge him. Many of the students looked at their desks. Others averted their gazes. “Good. Karl Donovan and Lilibelle Katsun? The two of you will remain here. As for the rest of you, you are to report to Doctor Strobar’s office immediately. You are free afterward. Except for you, Miss Ishima. I expect an explanation regarding your tardiness once you’re done with Strobar. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Daidari replied coolly.

Lilibelle’s heart skipped. She rose from her seat, hoping this didn’t have anything to do with Admiral Chovek. Karl walked to one side of Boldwin’s desk while Lilibelle waited at the other. Boldwin motioned with his hand for them to wait until the other students had left. Daidari regarded Karl with a glare, and he met her gaze with one of his own. 

What’s going on between those two?

“Sir, what is this concerning?” Karl asked once the students had left.

“First of all, Mister Donovan, I would like an explanation for why you were late,” Boldwin said.

Karl sighed. “I’m most sorry, Mister Boldwin. Miss Ishima and I lost track of time during a tennis match. It will not happen again.”

“I should hope so. Surely it doesn’t need repeating that we’re living during a very turbulent time. Every second spent inside here and not out there, finding the Fiends, needs to be spent adequately. Do you understand?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Now. As for you and Miss Katsun, Deadeye has issued a re-examination of every student’s compatibility with the DF interface,” Boldwin said, pushing the test packets to the edge of the desk where his chair was, then retreating back behind the desk. “Seeing as there’s no reason to test a person more than once, let alone a third time, I don’t think you need me to spell it out for you why you two aren’t going.”

Lilibelle gaped and dropped her gaze to the floor. The room suddenly looked smaller, her body felt heavier. She tried in feeble desperation to look Karl in the eye, but her gaze continued to veer away from him. Her shame draped over her like a heavy backpack.

Well, if he wasn’t so meek, then maybe I wouldn’t have gone and had myself tested a second time, she reasoned with herself.

“I see,” Karl said quietly.

“I’m no more thrilled to give you the news than you are to receive it,” Boldwin said, falling into his chair. The chair squeaked as he leaned back. “But let’s be honest. You would’ve figured it out regardless. Strobar wasn’t thrilled, either, but there you have it.”

There was no reason to test for DF compatibility more than once. Compatibility wasn’t something you warmed up to or lost with time. You either had the potential or you didn’t. Generally, conductors were paired up with those who scored similarly, in order to avoid complications during a true neurolink. Unless a complication occurred, there was no reason for Deadeye to test them more than once. That meant that if a conductor requested to be re-tested, then the unspoken implication was that they wanted a new partner.

“Let me explain,” Lilibelle said, finally turning her head toward Karl.

“Was that before or after you gave me the two weeks?” Karl asked. He had his hands balled and smelled of sweat. A fierceness she hadn’t seen before lay within the depths of his eyes.

“Look,” Boldwin said, raising one hand and placing the other on top of his testsheet stack, “I don’t got time to deal with a pair of teenagers who can’t figure their shit out. You two have been at each other’s throats since the day you got paired up.” The tone of his voice was sharp, verging warily toward shouting. “I’ve done all I can to help you. If you wanna fight, take it outside.”

“Yes, sir,” Lilibelle and Karl said in unison.

Lilibelle and Karl nodded curtly and made their way to the door. Lilibelle exited first, with Karl straight behind her. Once the door was shut, Lilibelle steeled herself and spun around. “Look, when—”

“I get it,” Karl said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You think I’m weak. You’ve been clamoring for a new partner since we first started.” The muscles in his jaw visibly tensed, his brow furrowed, and a coldness Lilibelle had never seen flickered in his stare. “I bet you think I’ll cry and whine, that I can’t take the pressure of being a Deadeye mercenary.”

He wasn’t wrong. Up until the night she and her team had arrived to rescue him, he’d shown no signs of being capable of not just manning the DF system, but understanding the bigger picture. From a compatibility standpoint, he was the finest there was. But there was so much more to conducting a DF system than simply whether or not they could form a successful neurolink. The next time a conductor stepped into their DF could be their last, and she wouldn’t dare allow Karl’s hesitation to be the deciding factor in her death.

Lilibelle balled her hands at her sides. “I did,” she admitted.

“‘Did,’ huh?” He cocked one brow and scoffed. “What changed? When did it change?”

Should she tell him about her premonition? The voice in her head, the little gut feelings she received on occasion that told her there was more to a situation than first glances would imply? The only one who had understood her was her father, and even then it took time before he acknowledged what she could do.

“The night we rescued you, actually,” Lilibelle said.

“Don’t lie to me.”

She furrowed her brow. “What?”

“You were acting weird the day of the ride-along.” He crossed his arms, his eyes digging into her like a pair of knives. “Your tone, your mannerisms, everything. You’d never shown concern for me up until that morning. So, I’ll try this again. What. Changed?”

Damn it, why did nothing get past this fucking little squirt? “You’re just imagining things,” she growled, her blood beginning to boil. “You don’t know a thing about me, so don’t pretend you suddenly understand how I work.”

Karl cocked his head back and half-laughed. “Unbelievable.”

“How dare you! You think this is funny?” Lilibelle spat.

“A little bit, yeah. I’m baffled by your refusal to tell the truth.” Karl looked at the wall as he shook his head. “Anyone with a functioning brain could tell you were off that day. Ask any one of our classmates and they’ll say the exact same thing. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

“This isn’t about them. This is between you and me.”

Karl sighed. “You’re missing the point.”

Lilibelle flushed. Why couldn’t she just be honest with him?

“I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore,” Karl said when she didn’t say anything. “What’s done is done. I didn’t like you, and you didn’t like me. Maybe we still don't.” He worked his jaw, his mouth making all sorts of expressions as if he couldn’t quite decide what to say next. “I don’t even know why I’m angry. It’s not like it makes any difference anyway. It’s not as if we’ll be partnering up on a permanent basis, anyway. Maybe this new system is for the best.”

“Now you’re okay with it?” Lilibelle nearly shouted. This wasn’t how this was meant to go. She imagined them standing on opposite sides of a valley, stretching out to one another. She thought the gap was beginning to close, but now it seemed that the gap was stretching wider. “I thought you hated it?”

“And I still do to some degree,” he said quietly, “but I’m starting to think that our approaches are too different. Our personalities just clash too much. We’re like oil and water.”

“You were fine until you found out that I had another examination done,” Lilibelle said. “Yet you expect no backlash from me? What about you? You went ahead and got one too!”

He scoffed. “Are you joking? You’ve always wanted a new partner. Everyone knows. If anything, I was doing you a favor. You have no right to stand there and tell me that I’m just as guilty as you are.”

“So it’s fine to be a hypocrite then!”

Karl shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so! Call me a hypocrite if that makes you feel better. Go right ahead. But don’t think for even a second that this makes us even.”

The lid on her temper was quickly threatening to fly off. She wanted to apologize, mend their differences, but the fact he refused to admit fault burned her skin. “Do you think I would’ve organized a rescue team if I wasn’t willing to give you a chance?” She splayed a hand across her chest. “I put my life and reputation on the line because I saw potential in you!”

Karl glanced at her, rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I appreciate what you did, truly I do.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay you back for that, but let’s not pretend we’re friends, all right?”

Tears threatened to fall, but Lilibelle refused to allow them their freedom. “Fine! See if I care! You want to hold a grudge against me? So be it! Be a petulant little brat!” She spun on her heel and started down the hall, using the back of her hand to wipe away the thin snot dripping from her nose. With class over, she was certain the expectation was that she return promptly to her room or face repercussions from Chovek.

The entire time she walked, she wanted to scream and punch, take back some of the things she’d said and done, both good and bad. But the past was just that; the past. She took the stairwell to the residential floor to avoid running into anyone. The entire time she walked, a single thought repeated itself over and over again, as if trying to etch itself into her brain. 

Maybe this is for the best.