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.

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.