The Foundry | Part One | Chapter Seven
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Foundry
by Daphne Garrido
Part One | Thrice Bled Heart
Part Two | Rebuilt; Refound; Reclaimed
Part Three | Dominion
Chapter Seven
He’d been talking forever. It was making Echo antsy and Cameron could tell. This was all most repetitious for the woman, listening to Instructor Salus set the groundwork on what was to come for this class of initiates in the following periods. It seemed especially dry after that crash-refresher course in simulation.
Echo just wanted to get back at it. Luckily, she’d known there’d be a chance for that coming soon. Leopold had even been here before the start of class, witnessed as rewarding confirmation while they’d found their seats. There was always a show at the end of a lesson, some challenge, and this first course would come with an opportunity for the incoming class to see exactly what they’d be up against, along with an example they could aspire to.
She’d felt particularly excited about this for two reasons.
The first, was that Instructor Salus clearly had a bone to pick with her. There were knowing glances Echo’s way a number of times throughout the presentation, even one where he’d shared his disapproving eyes with Cameron beside her. Every time, just happening to fall after words which proved quite reflective of his awareness to their simulative proclivities.
Her favorite was, “You’ll think you’re ready before you are.”
She’d found some sense that he’d endeavor to make an example of her before the class, and she couldn’t wait for him to try, Echo was salivating for it. This only amplified after that second reason walked into the room.
It would be Rory Tyrell showing what was to be aspired towards.
Vladmir Salus was a retired pilot; the wise old man of The Foundry. Every instructor and member of this administration held breadths of knowledge within, but his was hardened. He was the only living pilot to have fought in an honest to god war. His tutelage was sought by all.
Those who’d find him a personal mentor would soar to honors and excellence in The Foundry. The fact he’d taken Rory under his wing was no surprise to Echo. She thought he’d probably been learning a lot from her in truth.
That’s how mentorship always worked. There was an often unseen balance to the lessons shared between a teacher and student. Here, in this place of higher learning, and wrought excellence of form, it would be honored. They’d teach of the matter, and learn back from their student’s insights in every moment. No age, level of experience, place of origin, or position of stature negated the fact that every individual had unique value and insight to offer the whole. Especially those people who’d found their way here.
Rory hadn’t glanced towards the class of initiates once, except for a briefest nod upon her introduction from Instructor Salus when entering.
Cameron seemed interested in Echo’s body language about the evolving situation. She’d gone stiff, result of the means in which she was forcing herself to not look at this pilot in front of her class. There wasn’t a word spoken from Vladimir she’d registered, despite the fact she was staring at him and nodding along.
“You okay?” Cameron asked earnestly.
Echo had taken a breath through her teeth. She’d been too rapt in the eloquence of this riveting presentation to respond quickly — that’s how she was trying to play it off.
“Yo, I’m good, dude.”
There had been a chuckle. Cameron was seeing beyond the veneer she was desperately trying to project, Echo realizing it herself; she’d been had. There was an admission buried in the subtext of Echo’s following words.
“Fuck that bitch.”
Instructor Salus was getting to the good part, she could tell, because she’d actually been trying to listen again. Some part of her less in control by this mode in which she’d opened to receive his words had eventually turned her eyes towards Rory.
She had one foot up, leaned back into a slouch, previously taking a widest set and most casual posture upon the leftmost simulator’s hardseat. She was fiddling with her sleek, gorgeous hair, falling over that perfectly faded undercut. The sight had caused a minor convulsion in Echo — it was last thing she’d wanted to see.
“That fucking bitch,” was released under her breath, having clearly settled into some sweet spot on the way she’d verbally calculate her feelings about all this. Switching her eyes back over to the instructor, she thanked a higher force he’d been saying something interesting.
“Our mechs are more than fast ships with elite weaponry. They’re extensions of each and every one of us. The way we choose to design them is unique to our own abilities, and what role we feel ourselves born to play in battle. Think on how you’ll support your chosen, how you’ll work together, what differences between you could create the most powerful team when harnessed in league with each other.”
Echo felt a squeeze on her thigh. Cameron was clearly getting worked up about this part. There’d been a lot of talk since their expedition on what her own designs might be. Scarlet could be remade in many ways if needed, but her foundations were set, and this gave Cameron a problem to solve, one she’d been finding great pleasure in pursuing; how best to work beside what Echo had already created.
“When everything unfolds, hits the deck, transforms around you, your mech becomes its namesake, and a warrior in itself. There are two beasts you need to tame for success as a pilot. The first is the ship. The second is the fighter inside it. And nothing defines a person here at The Foundry more than what that looks like for them.”
Echo was anticipating it at the end of every next sentence now. He was about to tell them why Rory was here, she knew it. Echo just hoped they’d chosen a good one, and that she’d been right he was intending to pick-on her.
“Our simulators are the best in Elaria, and the real deal is going to kill some of you. It’s best to accept that now. Here, we have something prepared, to show you a bit of what’s to come, a step down from the real deal. Nobody dies at this level of simulation, but that doesn’t mean these wont fuck with your head, or hurt a hell of a lot.”
There was a moment where Echo could feel some weighted emotion in her chest, quite apart from her own easily perceivable and well-gauged anxiety, the energy of another; somebody here was awfully excited.
“Normally we would ask for a volunteer from your class, and we’d choose a more rudimentary simulation. But we’re in luck. Due to special circumstances…”
Instructor Salus had looked right at her then, and Echo was both relieved and terrified that she’d been most correct about how this was about to go.
“And the fact your class has a rarest honor. That—of including one of the least common things you’ll ever see in these halls, you’re classmate here—she’s coming back for her second go-round.”
There was an audible, communal gasp around her, chatter borne between chosen pairs, even that tattoo-face-girl had shot Echo a nasty look. She’d closed her eyes as the whole room’s energetic focus fell upon her.
“Ms. Echo Béleaph. Would you be willing to take part in this demonstration? You’ve seemed quite eager to get back into the swing of things.”
Echo just stood up, again, discovering herself glance towards Rory most uncontrollably. They’d no longer been playing it off so cool, still refusing to turn their eyes, now clearly taking a calming breath of their own. Echo even saw the irrepressible hints of some sickest grin upon their lips before she could look away.
There hadn’t been appropriate words, so Echo hadn’t said a thing, this wasn’t really a choice anyway. She’d just walked through the gap of her peers, stepping down off their cascaded seating platform, and made way for Instructor Salus.
“What are we doing?” She’d asked him as he’d motioned her towards the simulation terminal on the opposite side of the classroom from Rory’s.
“You’ll see.” Is all he’d responded, peaking her interest most completely as he began to lead the way.
Echo really wanted to know what he’d meant by that. Her head was swiveling as she trailed behind him. The words he’d spoken to the class blurred completely as she’d sought for what she would eventually find; that loading screen.
The word upon its visual display, mounted to the simulator’s control interface, was not what she’d expected. In fact, for the length of this lecture, while her mind had gone round and round about the possibility of this very thing coming to pass, she’d not considered it once.
“This simulation has recently graduated into becoming a part our curriculum. You’ll all be taking part at some point, if you make it that far. I’ll tell you one thing—it’s not as fun as it looks. We had this one listed as purely experimental for a very, very long time. It was actually Rory here who did the good work to get that changed for y’all.”
The class laughed as Rory finally bestowed her attention, and probably a beautiful smile, something Echo doubted most completely would’ve happened if she’d still been sitting alongside them. Lowering into her hardseat, getting ready to strap in, hearing the voice of her own mind repeating that word over and over in purest disbelief, had been when he finally told the class.
“We call it apocalypse.”
*cracks knuckles*