“Why didn’t you tell him there was another deck below him?”
“I wanted to test the Skill’s response to emotion. Passion, specifically. I couldn’t have done that without a significant release of emotion.”
“No, no, no. I told you to fight him on the ground, remember? So he wouldn’t plummet to death on his first day?”
“He couldn’t concentrate with dozens of faces staring out of their tents.” Suki said, trying to ignore her mouth drying out with each word. “We have yet to prove all our members are loyal to this organisation only.”
Aiko heaved a sign and performed a cat stretch as she leaned forward on the table, shifting her arms until she felt a relief sweep across her lower back.
“At this rate, we might have to convince him to stay.”
“Please don’t tell me you mean what I think you do.”
“You know I could do it.” This time, Aiko looked as sanguine as Suki usually did.
“Your—practices—or methods, whatever you call them? They won’t fly here. I won’ t allow it.”
“What? Not like that, idiot,” Aiko said. “Do you really think I’d be that shallow?”
“We can’t afford to be reckless like our AVAIL days,” Suki said. “We need to think long-term.”
“And you need a drink.” Aiko popped the tab of a beer can. “Unless you plan on dying of thirst, I suggest you take a sip.”
“We can’t afford to be reckless like our AVAIL days,” Suki said. “We need to think long-term.”
“And you need a drink.” Aiko popped the tab of a beer can. “Unless you plan on dying of thirst, I suggest you take a sip.”
“I’m not drinking it,” Suki shook her head, cringing as the liquor’s smell overpowered the break room. “I’d rather drink from the lake at Lekisha.”
“A lake that the Apostles currently control, by the way,” Aiko said. “Do you want to kill us both?”
“We’ll still die once we run out of water.”
“What about you?” Aiko said, offering the cup to the man sitting in a lone chair tucked away in the corner, his face shrouded by the poor lighting. He, too, shook his head.
“Hmph. More for me, I guess.” Suki eyed Aiko as she guzzled down her drink and let out a burp. “Thank the Animaens we did that collaboration with Asahi.”
Suki watched as Han-woo leaned forward, the glossy dark blue armour around his chest and waist shifting as his burly frame came into the light. Tokoshima watched the C.R.D badge on his chest as it caught the light from the dirtied fluorescent lights. Sure, she knew Han-woo was as good as his word, but she couldn’t help but feel like the man didn’t mind showing off the gleaming chest crest just to make a point.
“To be fair,” He said. “You can’t just slap a couple of AKs onto a group of teenagers and call it a day.” He rested his shoulder pads on his knees as he slumped forward. “Trust me, Yoona has proven that much.”
Suki took one look at Aiko guzzling down her drink, then at Han-woo slouching on the chair, now resting his elbows on the silver table in the centre of the room.
She knew she was in for a long discussion.
“Yes, but we don’t have time to pander to the whims of a teenager,” Suki said. “We need to get him prepared so we all don’t die of thirst.”
“By scaring his socks off?” Aiko gulped down the last drops of liquor and slammed the glass on the table’s glossy surface. “What happens if he bails on us? Or joins the Apostles?”
Suki sighed. “Cyber Gen kids.”
“Right now, he’s got no real reason to stay,” Han-woo said. “He needs people he can bond with.”
“Yoona shall suffice.”
“No,” Han-woo stood and strode over to Suki, her head only slightly higher than his shoulders. “We’ll all need to chip in.”
“Yes!” Aiko said, pointing a finger at him with her others wrapped around the glass, spilling droplets onto the grey concrete floor. “My point exactly.”
Suki sighed. This was far from the first time her words fell on deaf ears in the presence of her two well-meaning, but often clueless friends.
“So the kid’s clueless with a sword,” Han-woo said. “Do we switch him to guns?”
Deep in thought, Suki put her hand to her chin. Even Aiko knew when she truly needed to concentrate—this was one of those times.
“For now,” Suki said. “I need you to keep a close eye on him from now on, especially with Operation Thirstquencher coming up. “
“Mhm. And I should also try to break him out of his shell?”
Suki raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t thought about it like that. “That’d be preferable. It’s a big ask, but you might have to become his bodyguard, in a sense. If Chronocease ends up in the Apostles’ hands…”
“Understood. I’ll stay close.”
Han-woo trod out of the break room, the automated door sliding shut behind him as he walked through its metal frame.
“Do you wish Adrian was here?”
Suki grimaced. “You don’t get anyway comparing two people like that. Especially if they’re related.”
“I know,” Aiko’s voice dropped to a whisper as placed her hand on Suki’s shoulder. “You’d be starting a war—no going back after the first attack. Are you willing to make that choice?”
Suki looked back at her grimly and sat where Han-woo had been moments ago, clasping her hands together and exhaling through her nose. Then, she drove her fist onto the table’s surface.
…
It didn’t make sense. Yoona had only known Michael for a while, yet his words cut deeper than any blade would. No, you’re defending her. And for what, exactly? To become friends with your idols? His words echoed in her head.
No, she wasn’t defending them. They were just doing their job! From what she’d seen, Aiko and Suki had followed the Player Protection Act to a tee.
What does he know about a job, anyway? He was probably living the life riding off his dad’s coattails. A man she respected, by the way.
But he couldn’t be the only reason why she was so on edge, right?
Hmph. Nothing she couldn’t fix with reading a little Paul Ackman. Thank goodness she remembered to go back to her store to pick up her books. Sure, she could have converted it all to holotexts or stored them in her inventory, but she preferred using the small shelves tucked away behind the counter. It was as tactile as it got, in a virtual space like CyberWorld’s.
Besides, it was probably better to keep them in-game.
Now she lay in her quarters reading her copy of Tried and True and trying to immerse herself in the story Ackman had built.
They’re celebrities, Yoona. When this is all over, you’ll go back to being a nameless intern.
Keep calm, Yoona said to herself, her fingers creasing the book’s casing. She could feel herself about to snap, the loose threads of her sanity pulling gaunt against her sanity. Not with the book in your hands.
They won’t care about you anymore.
Yoona slammed the hardcover shut with a thud, sweeping her arm overhead in an arc motion fully prepared to toss it across the room.
At the last moment, her other hand grabbed her wrist, and her fingers tightened across the book’s spine, grinding her thoughts of frenzy to a halt. She grunted and dropped the book at her side, falling back onto the bed flat on her back. Then, she turned on her side and clutched her bolster against her chest, the top end grazing her chin. Perhaps it would relieve the tugging in her chest the harder she squeezed.
Happy thoughts, She thought.
Well, she hadn't had to deal with her parents in a while. And period cramps won’t a thing in the simulation, thank goodness. Even though dehydration after firearm training was a total pain, it still turned out to be less strenuous than managing a business, funnily enough.
She didn’t necessarily agree with Michael. His phrasing and tone wasn’t helping his case either.
But she was afraid he might be right.
