Chapter 11: Red Eyes
Chapter 11: Red Eyes
The first thing Sir Boldwick did when they got back was to bite off a chunk of mute stag meat and park himself by the fire. The rest of the group stood around unarmored in their makeshift shelter; they were still trying to fish out answers from Colin and Erec about what’d happened.
Erec ignored their questions and instead directed his efforts to solving the Markos II issue. From what VAL told him—after he bribed it with information about Rifts—the damage sustained by the thrashing mites was enough to render the Armor nonfunctional without VAL riding co-pilot.
Even with VAL there doing his… thing? The Armor didn’t have long for this world. He’d need to scavenge to repair it.
But at least if he did that, VAL expressed its desire to help with the restoration. In Val’s words: ‘I’d love to help to better understand the modularity of these human carapaces, of course I’d be willing to engage in hardware testing.’ It liked to get its hands dirty, so to speak.
“If they’re active during the day.” Garin rubbed the back of his neck as he looked over the group, moving on to address the bug problem. “It’d make the most sense to go back tonight and take care of them.”
Erec looked over his shoulder. “My Armor isn’t going to last long if I don’t do something about it.” He told his friend with a sigh; he’d been waiting for this suggestion to shoot it down. “I need to spend the rest of the night looking for some kind of fix, or it’ll break for good.”
“I’m not going back.” Colin shuddered near the fire. “We shall leave this town on the morrow and go far away. There are other methods to show ourselves to the Academy.”
“Thresher mites have a seasonal breeding pattern. They likely migrated here at the start of spring and formed their hive. Toward the end of the year, before it gets cold, they’ll send out up to twenty more queens to infest more buildings in this town.” Lyotte said, shaking her head sadly at Colin. “You’re afraid, and that’s okay, but we also disrupted the main hive and accelerated that process. There will be a few reserve queens now looking for homes and desperate. By the end of this year, we could be looking at a serious problem if they multiply quickly enough. From what I’ve read, the hives can form alliances and come to the aid of others.”
“I’m not afraid!” Colin screamed and stood up, his face flushing red in an instant.
“Don’t lie.” Erec returned his attention to the Armor. “You were screaming and in a panic. That’s why I helped you; I couldn’t stand to watch you like that.”
“How dare you imply I’d ever need your help or that I was panicked! That situation was entirely in my control.”
Garin cleared his throat and spoke. “Let’s drop that for now, okay? It’s not doing us any good to bicker. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we want to pass this trial. Taking care of this problem before it gets worse is the best way to do that.” Aside from showing off the facility, I found. Erec ground his teeth. “I say we rest tonight, then try to track where they begin to set up their new hives tomorrow. The more information we have, the better the decision we can come to.”
Everyone nodded their assent, except for Colin, who scowled and returned to sulking next to the fire.
It was a constant irritant that he was holding the trump card to this trial yet wasn't allowed to use it. Not to mention Goddess knew what could be done with the information locked away in the Vortex Industries labs.
If he had it his way, he'd have loved to charge those thrashing mites tonight. The Markos II was barely held together on its frame. Looking at it now was sad. The poor thing was in a disgraceful state with torn wiring, a dented frame, and several missing plates. Truly trash Armor.
If you told him it stood no chance of functioning again, Erec wouldn't have batted an eye.
Rodren leaned next to him and placed a heavily rusted wrench and wire cutters on the ground.
"You said I'd be able to repay the favor. I found these while looking for food with Garin and Lyotte." He said, looking the Markos II up and down. "You really charged in there to help Colin?"
"He's an asshole, but it doesn't sit right with me to let him get swarmed and in a state of absolute terror like that. All we have is one another; if we forget that, then what's the point of all the struggle?" The constant sneering faces at him and his family; it never built resentment in him. This world had much larger threats to warrant spending time warring with other humans. All too often, the nobility forgot that. Though, Colin could use a good punch in the face to set him on track.
"I'm amazed you can still use that Armor.”
I can't. Not alone. VAL still lingered within the Armor and had been suspiciously quiet since they'd returned to their campsite. If he were to hazard a guess, the demented robot was too busy cataloging everyone in the group to harass him. "Lucky, I suppose. Thanks for the tools, but I'll still need to see if I can fish up parts and scrap metal to cover where the plating is gone. Especially if we're facing off against those mites again."
Erec flexed his wrist; there was still a sizeable discolored purple bump on it. Then there were all of the other sore spots around his body; he wasn't going to wake up too happy tomorrow.
Rodren ran a hand along the busted metal and whistled. Suddenly he withdrew his fingers with a sharp hiss of pain—blood covered them. "Ow, cut myself."
[Sample acquired. Running diagnostics.]
Erec fought to keep his expression steady. Once more, VAL was proving an absolute menace, and there wasn't any way to control it. Nor could he confirm that Rodren hadn't just been injected with nanites—
[Amazing. Were you aware that your facial expressions are remarkably simple to read? No. I did not inject him with nanites; those are difficult to manufacture and require specialized equipment and years of dedicated effort. I simply cut his finger for a blood sample; there is no need for overreactive stressor markers. Honestly, you humans.]
—maybe he was a little too on edge. After all, VAL proved itself capable of providing an advantage in the fight with the Armor. Even as much as he resented the inability to share the discovery of vital old-world technology, there was no denying that VAL brought power and expertise to the table. But there was the ever lingering mystery of what all it was taking in return.
"It's better to get going now. Before it gets much darker, I'd still like to sleep tonight." Erec stifled a yawn. Two late nights in a row weren't conducive to doing his best in the field, but it was better than working off of no sleep.
"I'm coming with," Garin strode up from behind and set a hand on Erec's shoulder. "Are you cooled down now?"
"Yeah, I'd say so; thanks, Garin. Let's head out."
— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —
Rodren proved himself rather adept at scanning wreckage and picking out valuable bits of metal and other useful scraps. He'd even discovered a screwdriver in an abandoned garage. His keen eyes were powerful, and his attention to detail let him point out buildings and areas that hadn't been picked clean yet.
Between the three, they put together an efficient strategy. Erec scouted ahead for any signs of the thrashing mites or other wildlife. Without Armor, he relied on his adept stealth, making him a natural fit for the role. Garin provided support if they ran across anything—which they did — Garin was pleased to get to slice apart a lost thrashing mite in a promising building. After which, Rodren scanned the wreckage.
After an hour, they had amassed enough stuff to give putting the Markos II back together an honest attempt. Even if under normal circumstances, it should've been impossible to do.
Erec could tell that Garin and Rodren doubted the Armor would function again and appreciated this gesture for what he knew it was. Their attempt to help someone, regardless of the reality of the situation. Though, the other boys couldn't know that VAL's support made the impossible task into something plausible.
All the while, that mote of light tracked them. It was shocking, considering that both of the ducal lines had remained with Sir Boldwick. It appeared the Academy didn't rig the trial entirely in their favor.
VAL kept peaceful. Only occasionally remarking over the similarities in the DNA found between Rodren and Erec. There was an annoying flare-up when VAL tried to coerce Erec into snipping off a piece of Rodren's hair later that night for a 'follicle drug test.' so it could 'determine long-term environmental conditions and contaminants consumed by others in the population.' After three firm no's, VAL begrudgingly accepted the decision.
Despite the machine remaining dormant inside the Armor, it had no trouble actively tracking his location. It even issued a warning when it deemed him to be 'getting too close to the no-go zone.'
The nanites must have had some capabilities. Indeed, Erec was trying to subtly lead them towards the lab, even if it wasn't a serious attempt.
As the moon sank closer to the horizon, Erec called for them to stop. No matter how long it took, Garin and Rodren would keep going. That much had become apparent. "You two need to rest." He explained as they finished picking apart the last building—finding a few aluminum cans, viable copper wire, and some adhesive.
"I can keep going." Garin pounded a gauntlet against his chest. "If you're tired, I'll sling your lazy ass over my back."
"It's not fair. You've both done more than enough for me. I think this should be enough." Erec said.
They took a long look at the pile of refuse stuffed in a makeshift bag. Inside was some scrap metal, the screwdriver, and various other electronic or ceramic bits that may or may not contribute to a patch job. Having a large variety of materials to try to work with would help. But this whole plan hinged on VAL.
After deep resistance that Erec pushed past, they caved, and the trio headed back to the camp.
Erec stayed up late into the night—heating bits of metal and listening to the occasional pointers from VAL in his head of where different parts may go, what wires to cut and pull, which ones he should splice. Even a terse explanation of the best way to jam on a piece of plate with a rock. It was a grueling process, but remarkably, VAL provided informative and constructive instruction. After hours of work with the machine, he felt that he understood how the Markos II operated far better than he had before. VAL took the guesswork out of the repairs—even with the unconventional directions and hardware modifications, it all made sense.
In a sort of mad engineer kind of way.
When he finally did manage to lay his head down an hour and a half before the sun rose, he dreamt of an albino stag with deep ruby red eyes.