Hunter watched Tilda sauder in the final channels on their second prototype, and he double checked her work. She didn't seem to mind having him confirm her quality. In fact, she seemed to respect his dedication to the art.
"Good," he said. It was just a prototype. The final product would be a lot more refined.
"That's probably the most complex channel-work I've ever done," she said, having broken a sweat from the tension she'd been under while concentrating. Hunter nodded and declined to comment. Sometimes, especially times like these, he would feel tempted to say something that would seem to diminish the value she brought to their partnership. If he said that the work she'd done was pretty basic compared to what he was used to doing, it would seem arrogant. And maybe a little toxic.
Besides, she was proud of herself. If she was happy, he was happy.
"Want to take a break?" He asked, "we've been at this for hours and I'm starving."
She looked at him as if he'd just divided by zero.
"You? Hungry?" She pinched herself. "Nope, I'm not dreaming."
It occurred to him she was being sarcastic.
"Ha-ha."
"Can you wait until we're finished here? I'm looking forward to seeing if it all works together, and I won't be able to eat in peace while I'm in such a tremendous state of suspense," she said.
"Fine," Hunter said, consoling his aggrieved stomach, "It's gonna be a big dinner, though."
"As long as you're paying," she teased.
"When have I ever so much as implied that I was anything other than a gentleman?" Hunter asked, grasping his wounded heart.
"Hmm, let's see," Tilda said, holding her chin as she contemplated. "Well, there was that time when—"
"So how about getting these tests started, hey?" Hunter said as he lined up the plates on the workbench. Tilda rolled her eyes but bounced off the chair and grabbed the other pieces of their prototype armour. They placed one piece on the table, and Tilda attached it to a drawstone. She activated the construct, and Hunter felt into the flow of etherium through the network. He was still reluctant to tell Tilda about his sensitivity and his research. He sometimes wondered if she'd figure it out on her own, as he didn't take many precautions in order to hide it.
But he didn't need to hide it. The fact is, there were no fancy gestures required in order to feel what he felt. He just felt it, as long as he was close enough. As far as she was aware, he could just be staring at the construct, wishing that it all worked out the way they wanted it to.
He marvelled at the detail he could make out in the etheric flow through the network. Ever since he'd traced out his channels, observing how they grew, his sensitivity to etherium's flow had amplified. He could feel more minute details, and some novel sensations he'd never felt before, or at least never appreciated on their own.
He hadn't taken too much time to dive into his new and improved sensitivity. He hadn't had the time. Between school, Tilda, Aera, and the focus of training which he had promised himself to do every day, his personal research had taken a backseat. Way, way in the back.
He knew that uncovering what these new sensations were, and what they meant, would be a long-term project. This work would be something he expanded on for the rest of his life.
"Looks good," Hunter said. "You want to do the honours?"
She smiled, picking up a hammer and pounding at the exposed plastic plate with all the force she could muster.
It didn't leave so much as a scratch.
"Looks like it works," he said, picking up the armour to examine it further. The thin force field projected from the plate removed all chance of creating friction with the plate's exposed surface, so he had to pick it up from behind.
"Moment of truth," Tilda said, as she brought forth the next plate. They clicked the plastic plates together, as if they were magnetized.
Hunter felt the etherium flowing through them both. They'd successfully created a modular construct network. Although it wasn't revolutionary, there weren't many people doing what they'd just done. Hunter had to make a show of testing the network, as if he didn't already know that the etherium was flowing through it just as they'd intended it to.
"My turn," he said, setting the construct down and hammering away at the newly attached plate. The worst he could do to it was leave a slight scratch, as the etherium had to support twice the amount of glyphs that it had before. The force field was weakened, but that was merely from a lack of optimization. He was sure that with time, he could create a design that minimized field integrity as more plates were added.
Someone with a much higher AR and some battery supplementation could probably wear an entire suit covered in these plates.
"Let's turn on the wireless transmitter," Hunter said, activating the first prototype he'd made, which he modified to support an expanded network of plates.
He felt a small upwelling of pleasure as he activated such a powerful construct with minimal help from a battery to supplement the flow of etherium. The final product would be much more demanding, as reinforcing metal was much more intensive than reinforcing plastic.
The construct activated, the etherium flowed, and Tilda reported the successful transmission once she attached the first prototype plate to the others.
They both cheered and hugged each other.
They disassembled the plates and packed up the prototypes. Tilda asked if she could keep them at her place, and Hunter didn't see a reason she couldn't. They agreed to let him keep the original prototype, and she could take the newest version. He figured she would want to fiddle with it, and maybe see if she could make some improvements. They already had all the plans for the prototypes reprinted, one copy for each of them. Even if she ended up making a mistake, they'd be able to rebuild any part of the network in a small time.
They left the workshop and took a detour around the soul in order to grab some wonderful coffee on the way to Sailor's Diner. After making it to the diner, Tilda laughed as Hunter ordered two portions of fish and chips for dinner. He shrugged and looked at her like she was the weird one for not getting two portions for her own dinner.
"To each their own," she said.
He remembered to order a milkshake. Chocolate, of course. Strawberry was fine, but the chocolate seemed to compliment the dark, decaffeinated coffee in such a wonderful way.
"Hey, Hunter. How much do you figure we can sell this tech for?" She asked, patting the large travel case they packed the prototypes into.
Hunter frowned and did the math.
"Well, I imagine we could use more high-quality materials and sell a transmitter with a bundle of plates for 2 or 300 credits, with bulk orders on plates costing less—"
"—I mean, the tech itself. The whole thing, the plans, everything," she asked.
It was an interesting question.
"I mean, this could be a gigantic business. It's cheap compared to other armour options, both in cost and in AR requirement. "We could get thousands, maybe more, orders a year," Hunter said excitedly. His family's network could handle advertising and distribution, eliminating a slow business ramp-up. "We're looking at millions of credits a year, if we get enough interest."
Hunter realized that if they really made a business out of this, it could expand more than he'd expected. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to do all the admin work on his own. Trey would worry about getting the right people for the job.
In a way, it would be the proof of a future return of investment, an assurance that Trey had made the right choice in bringing him into the fold. Aera would be happy as well, as he'd finally started contributing to the company — and to the family she loves.
Tilda's eyes widened.
"Not just a million, but millions, plural?"
"Potentially millions," Hunter said, hating to dim her enthusiasm. "It might not be that successful at all. Who knows?"
"Still, that's a lot of potential," she said, staring at the suitcase in a new light. "I knew it would be a lot, but that's more than I expected."
Her eyes moved as she talked. She seemed to be deep in thought. Their food arrived, and Hunter dug in. He had almost finished his first portion of fries when he realized Tilda had barely moved—she hadn't even noticed the food in front of her.
"Your milkshake is gonna melt," he said, wondering about how she was behaving. She rarely ever drifted off like that.
He was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking about. It was a lot of money, and he had to remind himself that money like that wasn't even a big deal for the people he was now associated with. Although he was sure that if his assessment of the technology was correct, Trey might be interested in investing. Who knows, with access to even better materials and more time to develop, the tech could improve by leaps and bounds. Hunter felt tempted to improve it with synergies, making it more accessible to more people. He wondered how it would work with the new personal shields he'd heard about, with their strange ability to shape a force field across a dynamic, moving surface.
"Sorry," she said, "this is a lot to digest. It would help my family out if I could bring home that kind of money."
Hunter loved that about Tilda. At the prospect of earning life-changing amounts of money, her first thoughts were about how to take care of her loved-ones.
He smiled at her, and she smiled. They enjoyed each other's gaze for a moment before Hunter felt his cheeks warm up a bit.
In his opinion, she had the most beautiful eyes in the world.
After dinner, they walked to Hunter's apartment. They stood outside for a second, neither of them seemed eager to leave. A sudden urge gripped Hunter, and he leaned forward and kissed her. She accepted the kiss, leaning into him and pulling him closer by his shirt collar. Hunter had never kissed a girl before. He felt his heartbeat speed up, and his chest lit up with a feeling of warmth and excitement.
He always wondered what it would be like to feel another pair of lips against his. It felt good; it felt intimate. He felt a deeper connection to her, a craving he hadn't known he had until then.
She let go first, and she met his gaze with a shy smile. She seemed just as flustered as he was.
He felt like he should say something. Anything. Something deep, something that would tell her just how incredibly profound this experience had been for him.
"W-Wow, you're awesome," he stuttered, his face burning. His clumsy compliment had derailed the beautiful moment he'd envisioned.
Why did he get this way around her?
"I'm awesome?" Tilda laughed, "thanks, Hunter. You're pretty rad as well."
If he could dig a hole and hide in it forever, he would.
"I just, I needed to say something."
"Relax, Hunter. It's cute," she said, but then she hesitated. Her cheer seemed to fade a bit.
"But.." he said, prompting her to continue. She tugged at her sleeve and kept her eyes downcast.
"I'm not sure I want the same thing," she said, shaking her head. "That's not right. I do want it, but life's too crazy right now to even consider it." Maybe once everything's calmed down?"
"Oh," he said, the elation he'd been feeling left him. A small pit grew in his gut. "Sure, I don't want you to feel you're being forced into something you're not ready for."
He wondered if that was the mature thing to say.
She sighed.
"Thanks, Hunter. I'm sorry. I like you, I think that's obvious," she shook her head and bit her lip, "It's just not a good time."
"Sure. I understand," Hunter lied, "If you want to talk about whatever's going on, you know you can call me anytime."
"Of course," she said, "thanks, Hunter."
Hunter felt a distance between them now, one that hadn't been there before, but maybe it always had and he just hadn't seen it. Maybe he was imagining it.
It wasn't any of his business, though. He had his own secrets, and he was glad that she being honest with him.
Besides, it wasn't a complete rejection. She'd kissed him back.
Maybe he could count that as a minor victory, one of the many he'd achieved in the last 6 months or so.
They both left each other for the evening, and Hunter prepared to meet with Clark and his friends. It was just past 5pm, and he expected to receive the call at any moment. He figured that meeting new people would be a pleasant distraction from the rollercoaster of a day he'd been having.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, Clark called him. He gave him an address and said that he could come over at any time.
---
They were meeting at a bar across campus. It took Hunter about 20 minutes to walk there. The whole place appeared to be deserted but for the bartender, and a small group of people seated around a round table, eating food and drinking beers. Clark saw him walk in and waved him over with a smile.
"Hunter! Welcome, come and meet everyone. Everyone, this is the guy I was telling you about."
The small group of people all welcomed Hunter with friendly smiles. Clark introduced their names.
"We are the Society of Future Leaders. To my right is Luther. Sponsored by Smith transports, and he's here to earn Excellence in wrestling. Beside him is Berry Falan, one of the most polite nerds you'll ever talk to," Clark said.
"Fuck off," Berry said, laughing. Hunter smiled at the banter.
"Next up is Joey 'T-Bone' Porter, an entrepreneurial sort with a few successful businesses back in the LockeMark domain. Then we've got Jason Chan, who you may have heard of?" Clark asked, and Hunter shook his head.
"Pleasure, Hunter. I look forward to getting to know you," Jason said, bowing his head slightly with a smile and extending his hand. Hunter shook the offered hand.
"And last but not least, Joffrey Loomis. He's here on a personal invitation from Barnum," Clark said. Joffrey winked and Hunter and gave him a nod.
"Every one of these gentlemen has proven themselves to be excellent individuals who strive to make themselves into their own ideal, sparing no cost or effort. Is that something you can relate to?" Clark said, raising his voice for what Hunter felt was supposed to be some sort of initiation ritual.
"Yeah, I can relate to that," Hunter said.
"I have seen Hunter's growth in martial arts. He's no champion yet, but out of everyone in my class, he's shown the most improvement and focus. I also hear he's quite the whiz with constructs," Clark said, raising an eyebrow at Hunter. Hunter felt it was more of a question.
He always held his etherium skills in high regard and saw no need to downplay them. The rest of the group gave him their attention.
"Yeah, I've been studying and building constructs for as long as I can remember. After my dad died, I had to make a living somehow, and no one would hire me. So my only option was to leverage the only field of expertise I'd cultivated, which was etherium."
"I imagine it wasn't easy," one of them said. If Hunter remembered correctly, his name was Jason. "I'd love to hear more about that, but it can wait. We were just finishing our meal. We'll talk afterwards."
Hunter shrugged. He had an hour and a half to kill before his meeting with Aera, so he figured he could stay around and chat for a bit.
The group was interesting. Each person discussed their progress and challenges. These included both project goals and personal obstacles. To Hunter, it all felt introductory, as if they were retreading old ground for his sake.
He'd noticed a strange pattern. Whenever Jason spoke, everyone would seem to pay him extra attention, as if every word he said was something important, whereas everyone else treated each other as if they were good friends out to a meal.
But Jason Chan appeared to be a shot caller, or the unofficial leader of the group.
It was an interesting dynamic. Who was this young man, and why was he so respected by his peers? Hunter looked forward to their conversation. After everyone had eaten, Jason stood and motioned Hunter to follow him. He led Hunter to the back of the bar, and Hunter was surprised when the bartender let them through.
"I do a lot of business here," Jason said as he led Hunter up some stairs and into a small office. "I don't own the place, but the owner and I have a close business partnership. More specifically, the partnership is between him and my family, but the difference is semantics."
Jason sat down and poured himself a drink. He offered Hunter one, but Hunter declined. It would mess with his ability to focus after his session with Aera. Jason shrugged and put the bottle away. He sipped his drink and sighed in satisfaction.
"I must confess, Hunter, I'm well aware of who you are," Jason said. "I hope you'll forgive me for any pretense."
Tension blossomed in Hunter's chest. His entire focus converged on Jason. All of his conversations with Aera were coming to the forefront of his mind. Was this one of her rivals on campus? Which company did Jason represent? Was he a friend or a foe?
As much as Aera might have tried to prepare him for this, Hunter didn't feel ready at all. Maybe he was overthinking it.
On second thought, why wouldn't Jason know who he was? Hunter's name wouldn't have been a secret. His face had been all over the news, and rumours about what happened between him and Pippen Visgold had circulated for months.
Studying the young man, Hunter searched for any sign of danger. However, Jason appeared relaxed, smiling while he waited for Hunter's response. That wasn't what Hunter thought he should expect from someone who wanted to harm him.
Movie villains didn't exist in real life. From what he'd seen, the villains in real life wore their emotions close to the surface. David Nettle, the Comics, Pippen Visgold. Even if David hadn't harmed him physically, the same hostile spirit had been there. Neither had the Comics done him any physical harm, but the promise of pain was always there if he said the wrong thing. None of what he'd seen in those people were present in Jason.
But he considered whether that was enough of a reason to lower his guard. After a second of thought, he decided not.
"Sure, my name's gone around campus after what happened," Hunter said.
"Yes, the ambush," Jason said as he leaned back in his chair. He stared at the ceiling for a moment.
"That's what I want to talk to you about. I owe you an apology."