The Foundry | Part Three | Chapter Thirty-Four
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Foundry
by Daphne Garrido
Part Two | Rebuilt; Refound; Reclaimed
Part Three | Dominion
Part Four | Unmasked; Unbound; Unleashed
Chapter Thirty-Four
There’d been some awfully strange looks Echo noticed coming her way from Leopold as she’d taken the time to explain what she knew. The room was tight, she felt cramped in here with all four of them — surrounded by storage shelving, racks and cases — such wonder of form about, all of it before unseen to the woman, so much of it playing to her sensibilities completely.
A plan had been made in haste back at the simulation hall, and it was done by the sharing of their collective insights. Chloe was leading Jeremiah and Lidia back to the barracks — they’d wanted to pack their things.
Something would be discovered over the course of these next cycles. Many who’d stood tall in simulation and professed themselves to be willing warriors, fighting for a place here among the bravest of humankind, were in-fact lying to themselves all along.
Echo had been glad to see Chloe wasn’t one of them. That hug had been extraordinarily meaningful to the woman. They’d only been going to help those two so clearly stricken by stress from a situation proving out of their depth, and she’d see them again soon.
The Counsil’s Consolers would be proving themselves, in these cycles to come, as the farthest kinds of people from those lost to the cowardice of disbelief. Each of these four friends were becoming a part of something which would help them know their own worth. It would be the reflections they’d see in each other’s eyes, the acceptance felt when allowed to be themselves most completely, and the support they’d offer without a single expectation attached.
That, and these were four of the most gifted individuals in The Foundry — every one of them having gone unseen in some profound way throughout their life. Unique struggles with the pain of being misunderstood were present, and most different for each, yet it was the fact they’d all faced it with such courage which bound these friends together. They could see and feel themselves in each other, and there would be no more healing notion for any of them. It would teach them who they were.
They’d begun to feel like kids again together, despite the horrors surrounding this time, and that had been the place where those traumas of being unwitnessed began for them all. There’d been a most glorious sound to the ears of Echo, along with her heart which sang in such harmony; that first time she’d heard Rory call them the Consolers.
Echo was feeling how much fun they’d thought it was, but a part of Rory would have trouble enjoying things like that for themselves. She’d caught them smiling so widely when she was getting into the fantastical imaginings of it all with Poe, and they seemed to want to be around the energy, just soaking it in. At last, seeing Rory allow herself to take part, and most specifically the feeling she’d perceived from them in her chest, had changed something inside Echo.
She’d received it from the beauty of their smiling face, the second after they said it. Echo could feel her body changing with a release of most significant holding. Only later would she realize it was the moment she’d truly forgiven them, within her heart, for that simulation on Atreya.
This was Rory — the person she was getting to know at last — and it proved everything her heart had always whispered about them.
Echo hadn’t ever realized in her hurt, how in their own way, Rory was damaged all the same by their falling out. It’d been how Echo blamed her for it all, and made it seem like Rory was a monster, which pushed them to act like one in return. That was never her, and Echo wouldn’t let a single shred of bitterness remain for what she’d drawn out of them in her childishness.
She loved Rory, and Echo had from the first time she’d seen her. For them to have allowed this greatest gift, by simply inviting Leopold and her to join them in the Council Chamber, creating ripples which led to this most fantastic realization of the friendship she’d always wanted, might have made her love them a little more.
The four of them had found a place to prepare within the lowest levels of the Foundry — or ‘the bowels’ as Poe kept calling them. It was a security lock-up Rory knew housed weaponry, stowed for use in cases just like these. They were ancient devices of warfare, extremely deadly, and unknown to most everyone in this institution of war which had long found such commitment to peacemaking.
Echo explained each and every intricacy she perceived, from her most scattered intuitions about the messages she’d read on Alan’s terminal — the way this enemy’s webbing went so deeply into the structure of The Foundry was her foremost focus, and how they’d all need to understand the scope of threat they faced — this force had been in control for some time, through means of manipulation, and it was only beginning to showing its true face. All the while, she’d been catching those glances from Leopold so ridden with unspoken awareness.
The most important detail to all — the once which was even able to summon Poe’s focus away from her enthusiastic excavation — regarded those who were trustworthy amongst their leadership, and the one who was not.
It had been a most disheartening thing to discover. There’d been such respect held and grown amongst the Consolers for that man, and especially his legacy of greatness in battle, which felt of such need at this time.
Instructor made Commander Salus, who’d only just bestowed the official rank of Lieutenant upon Rory Tyrell cycles previous, and was considered a mentor by her most of all, had been their enemy all along. His kindness was in-fact a grooming. This man was making soldiers which he aimed to steer towards the design of his masters.
Echo eventually filled the silent space of contemplation which she’d felt had gone on long enough. She began to work towards the thing she’d been dreading of informing them of the most, but had known she’d have too anyway. There was another briefest flash caught in Leopold’s eyes, as she’d begun to work her way towards that piece of uncovered information which was hardest to accept.
“Just fucking tell me what it is.” Echo finally snapped, cutting herself off mid-sentence. Leopold’s expression dropped farther into darkness than it’d been. He clearly didn’t want to say whatever it was.
There’d been a message she’d read, and most quickly repressed into a place of hopeful denial. The very same she’d been about to reveal to her friends. It hadn’t been explicit, but the timing and language was entirely concerning.
She almost yelled at Leopold to spit out what he was thinking, unknowing it was the same point she’d been working towards, still electing to allow the man some grace to find his words, and gift herself another moment without telling it herself.
Leopold had gotten it out — telling them all. “It was Alan.”
Echo was silent for a while, nodding to herself, wondering if Poe and Rory knew exactly what he’d meant by that. She took back to cleaning those little rusted grooves from her rail-driver on the table before her, doing her very best to visualize one of its furious, caustic bolts imploding Alan’s face.
“Did what?” Rory demanded.
Yet, that wasn’t a truth Echo could release on command, she had to work up to big reveals like that. It was Poe who broke the extended silence as she’d lifted a light-machine gun from the crate she’d only just finished dismantling, much force exerted in the process, and at great cost to everyone’s peace of mind.
“Oh my god! Look at this shit!” She’d shouted.
Everyone looked, but nobody acknowledged Poe in that moment, still focused on the situation of higher gravity currently taking place between the adults in the room.
Rory seemed over the mystery entirely, as she’d demanded it directly of Echo, clearly having witnessed the words Leopold shared hitting some truth within her, and knowing Echo the easier target in which she could pry the information from.
“Alan did what?”
Echo finished re-assembling the rail-driver, clicking that long-sight into place, lifting its entirety at last, and feeling its heft in her arms. She’d resisted the urge to look down its sight, knowing Rory was waiting impatiently.
No glance Rory’s way would be shared along with the name, as it reflected too much shame in the moment for Echo, but all the same, she’d told them honestly, “Atreya.”
