Late Again
“Master, you're going to need to take a shortcut – no, I don't mean that one!” shouts Yua.
“Doesn't matter!”
It's a good thing that the Heliopolis colony has its rotational gravity set to a mere third of Earth's own. I jump over the railing, hanging in the air for a few long seconds. Once I land, from there it should be a short sprint to the port – I can make that in less than thirty two seconds. I can't believe I woke up late today.
It's been three months since I arrived at Neo Heliopolis. It's a colony that is still incomplete – only 35% of the structure is habitable right now. There are about 8000 people living here; most of them researchers and ISC personnel. Out here at Sun Lagrange Point 3, the war that continues to rage across the Earth sphere is a distant affair. Last I heard, the Higashi were in a bad position. The Indus had shared their Vizala technology with the UNS, and the both of them were gradually whittling away at the Higashi defenses. The large amount of Higashi engineers that arrived on the last few flights reinforced that idea. The Higashi were desperate; desperate enough to work with their long-time rivals, the Neo Shinar Empire, on researching a counter-measure to the Vizala combat frames. Though the Empire remained neutral, it knew that if Higashi fell, the ascendant UNS and Indus would turn their eyes towards the ISC next. To that end, it agreed to a secret pact with the Higashi to undertake a joint project. Higashi and ISC engineers have been working long hours, almost without rest, to develop a combat frame of their own. By all accounts, the prototype is almost complete. In fact, a group of dignitaries are visiting today to survey the progress.
They would be led by the Empress Julia Canaria de Shinar. Kyrie's mother.
That's why I'm running.
The Empress, though also a director on the board, is the head of the space offices of the ISC. She spends most of her time at the Neo Memphis colony nowadays. I've only met her once before, when we boarded the shuttle to Neo Heliopolis. Let's just say we did not leave a good first impression on each other. If the rumours are true, the only thing preventing the Empress from ordering a hit is the fact that her husband has taken a shine to me.
I skid to a halt as I reach the port's entrance at the end of the colony's gigantic cylinder. Kyrie is already there, waiting impatiently with Butterfield. She looks angry. That's weird, I'm sure I'm on time...
Unfortunately, it seems that the Empress is ahead of schedule. Empress Julia is tall, unlike her daughter. Her sharp features evoke the impression of a bird of prey, and her keen eyes do nothing to alleviate that feeling. Those cold eyes fix on me for a brief while before turning to her daughter.
“Kyrie. I have told you this before.” She enunciates her words slowly and carefully. “As the Crown Princess, it is entirely unseemly for you to hire your... friend... to be in a position close to you. It could be seen as an abuse of power. People might think you are favouring a lover.”
“Mother, it is not-”
“Do not interrupt.” snaps the Empress. “It would be at least palatable if he was of any use, or knew the importance of punctuality.” She casts a withering look at me, as if I should have been here an hour early waiting for Her Majesty's arrival. Well, perhaps I should have, but there were some pressing matters that needed my attention last night; that is to say, her daughter. Really, Kyrie could've woken me up this morning before she left. Seeing how fresh she looks, I wonder where she gets her endurance. Who would've thought that the princess was such an avid fan of late night video-gaming?
I give Her Imperial Majesty a perfectly executed bow and step in line behind Kyrie. She doesn't talk to me, but I can tell that there'll be words later. Words and other stuff. I shiver inwardly.
I look around the place – there are some Higashi bigwigs in the entourage, noticeable from their impeccable bearing and manners. One of them looks familiar, though I can't quite place his name in my mind at the moment. After a few more minutes of conversation and small talk, their rides arrive. The group of very important people sweeps off into their stretch limousines – did they ship those in specifically for today, I wonder – Kyrie along with them. I get to sit in the back of a truck along with the security personnel.
They recognize me and raise their hands for a high-five as I clamber into the back. Apparently, my stunt of saving the Emperor has become pretty well known amongst the ISC's security teams. Many of them had friends who were killed by either the monsters or the Dunamis that day. They took their jobs seriously; if the Emperor had been lost too, they felt that their friends would have died in vain.
“Still not getting to sit with your girlfriend, Senya?” grinned a tanned man with a faint rose tattoo on his cheek. His real name is Raul, but he insists that everyone call him Rose.
“Everyone thinking that she's my girlfriend is part of the reason why I'm stuck with you guys.” I reply. “No one ever believes us when we say there's nothing there. We're just friends.”
“Right. Motherfucking Butterfield allows her to stay over at your place, and you're just friends?” chimes in another guy, a blonde haired giant of a man. His mother named him Babylon, but most people just call him Babs.
“It's precisely because he allows her to stay over that you know there's nothing going on.” I am sure that if I ever tried anything improper, Butterfield would shoot me out of the airlock with nothing but my underwear on. He's said something to that effect before, and I'm not eager to see if he won't carry it out after all. Sure, it means that I have to fight temptation every weekend, but at least I'm not breathing vacuum.
“I can assure you that Master is still chaste.” Yua pipes up. “I watch him every night.”
“Hah, say what you want,” snorts Rose. “You gotta stop making out with computers and grow some hair on your balls, buddy. Lemme take you on a trip to Kamabharata when you hit the next school break. Make you into a real man, if you get what I mean.”
Before I can retort, the truck stops. We're at the hangers. “Alright, let's move out.” mutters Babs, putting on his sunglasses. Rose does the same, together with the rest of the security personnel. As I get down after them, a woman runs up to me.
“I thought you would be in the limos!”
“You're not the first one to say that, Tabitha. Anyway, what've you got there?”
“Take a guess.” She waves her tablet around. I can see that the screen is stained with the same greases that are splattered all over her mechanic's overalls, in her red, short hair, and streaked across her freckled cheeks. I venture the first guess that comes to mind. “Grease?”
“What? Of course not! The head of CF engineering just returned this report that you gave to him about the proposed upgrades.”
So that was it. In between attending school at Neo Heliopolis, I had gotten myself partially involved with the CF development going on here. Even though they appreciated my input, even after all the reports I've submitted, I have yet to be allowed access to the massive laboratories where the prototype CF is being constructed for security reasons. The prototype test today is the first time I'll be able to see the thing.
I take the tablet from Tabitha, wiping off the smudges on the screen as I do so. Wait, had I really sent this in? It bears my electronic signature, but I'm pretty sure I had never written anything like this...
***
In the report, I had written about:
1. My favourite colour on a CF.
A. Black
B. Blue
C. Red
D. White
E. Gold
F. Hot Pink
G. I change my preferred colours on a case-by-case (CBC) basis.
2. In general, I believe the design of a CF should focus on
A. Mobility
B. Armor
C. CBC is the way
3. In combat, a CF would be more effective by optimizing it for
A. Shooting
B. Melee
C. I like to do things CBC
4. I would like to upgrade the ISC's prototype CF with
A. Rocket punches
B. Breast missiles
C. Crotch bombs
D. Eye lasers
E. Drills everywhere.
F. It must be CBC