With a steady hand, Cliff looped a length of twine around the filaments, bundling them tightly before tightening a bolt, compacting the magical circuitry for placement in his PMT. Dragging his finger along each filament, he carefully verified they matched the diagram in the book. He knew, intuitively, that the node would work as he built it, but he’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that he had to match the diagram or they wouldn’t let him use the node. He tucked the final filament into the connector, sighing and stretching his cramped fingers, grinning down at the completed node. It wasn’t all that impressive to look at, a little cluster of multicolored filaments and metal that could fit in the palm of his hand, and surely it was not quite so industrial or refined as the standardized nodes that filled everyone else’s PMTs, but he’d built it himself, and that was everything.
He looked up from his desk-turned-workbench towards the practice range, where the rest of his PMT Basics class was working on becoming familiar with some of the more advanced versatile nodes – hybrid elements like ice and steam. Lieutenant Ulster was perched at his desk, occasionally glancing towards the range but mostly focused on whatever paperwork he was constantly busy with.
Cliff rose from his chair, grabbing his book and strolling over to the professor. “It’s done,” he said, presenting his handiwork to the Lieutenant. The big man looked up at him, taking the node delicately and turning it over in his fingers.
“The book,” he said, grabbing it in his free hand and comparing the node cliff had built to the one on the page. “What’s this one do?” he asked as he checked the connections and layout, nodding to himself.
Cliff grinned. “It’s a sonic node,” he explained, “the book says they used to use it for crowd control when people started protesting the Godhand Wars.”
Lieutenant Ulster winced. “Rough history. It’s some kind of loud cannon, then?”
Cliff shook his head. “No, the frequencies are too low for the human ear to hear – but not too low to feel. Apparently getting hit with the sound feels like a punch to the gut – then they’ll start to feel nauseous, lose their balance, maybe even lose control downstairs – if you catch my drift, sir.”
The Lieutenant gave him an unamused look before pointing at one part of the page. “This section, outlined with a dotted line – you didn’t include it in your node. Explain.”
Cliff leaned over the desk, looking closer at the page. He clicked his tongue. “That’s optional – it allows you to adjust the arc you spray the sound, but including anything variable and it would defeat the purpose of my little personal-project, right?” He shrugged. “The way I built it, it’ll be a narrow beam of sound – should be easier to aim when fighting with my team, too.”
Lieutenant Ulster hummed his understanding, nodding slowly before shutting the book and handing it back to Cliff. He held the little node between two fingers, looking at it appreciatively. “Seems good to me, but don’t forget to run it through the diagnostic tool after you’ve set it in your PMT.” He studied the node for a moment more before giving it to Cliff with a satisfied nod. “Your craftsmanship is getting better. Keep up the good work.”
“It is, after all, the fourth one I’ve built – can’t very well remain an amateur forever.” The first node he’d put together had been rejected outright, not because he’d built it wrong, but because it had been too disorganized, and the Lieutenant feared it might break apart with even a little jostling. Since then, he’d focused a bit more on tightening up his work, and, as Lieutenant Ulster said, he thought he was getting better.
He was about to rush to slot the new node into his PMT when a thought occurred to him. “Ah – Lieutenant Ulster?” he said, turning back to the big man.
His professor was already back working through his paperwork. “Hmm?”
“Well, this node – I’m not sure how effective a test on a dummy would be. It’s not like we can see the sound, and its effect won’t be obvious either.” Cliff scratched at his neck. “So, well – could I test it on one of my friends?” He paused. “Or – if that’s too much to ask, could I slot it in their PMT and have them test it on me?”
“Denied,” Lieutenant Ulster said without looking up.
Cliff frowned. “But-”
“Either wait for a spar with a medic on hand or fill out a form requesting a controlled testing environment,” he said, “there’s nothing in there that should do any serious damage, but I can’t set a precedent of allowing unregulated tests in my classroom. Besides-” He looked up, the barest hint of humor in his eyes. “I wouldn’t want someone – how did you put it? Losing control downstairs? Not in my classroom, at least.” He smirked to himself, looking back down to his desk.
Cliff’s mouth opened to protest, but after a moment’s thought, he shut it, nodding to himself. He couldn’t very well disagree with that.
***
His pen bounced off the page as he checked the specifications with a frown. Thalos had the healing node, defensive martial node, plus room for one more. Nym had her Gift, of course, but Loria had privately told him not to rely on that for utility, so they’d opted to slot Thalos’s PMT with an earth node in case their path was blocked. Their commander’s PMT had its own soldier-class martial node plus the colossal waste of space that was her poppa’s fancy fire node. He’d tried to convince her one more time to downgrade, but she’d kindly told him to pound dirt – well, those weren’t her words, but that was the general point. Nym had a general martial node, her combat-class ice node, and a bit more space left over. She said she’d be open to anything, and he was thinking of also having her use an earth node – with the ice node and an earth node, she’d be a big help in working with the foundation of the bridge they were slated to repair.
“Clifford.”
His own PMT was the odd one out. He had a bag of tricks cooked up, the sound cannon plus the other two node’s he’d managed to build. He thought he might have time to make one more, but he’d have to rush. On top of that, there should be a little more space to include one of the basic nodes he was cleared to use – not that they were particularly useful, but more options were always better.
“Clifford? Are you listening?”
Cliff blinked, looking up. His history teacher, Professor Jericho, was standing over him with an amused quirk to his mouth. Glancing around, Cliff realized that class was over, and most of the other students were already out of the room.
He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his papers in a rough pile. “Sorry, professor – I got a little distracted with-” He cut off, not wanting to confess that he’d been ignoring the man’s lecture to work on his prep for the upcoming Hands-on.
The portly professor smiled, a rare expression on his often-severe face. “I have been teaching for fifteen years, Clifford. A single student losing focus for a single lecture will not offend me.” He glanced at the papers in Cliff’s hands. “What were you working on?”
With an embarrassed chuckle, he held out the paper to the Professor. “I’m my team’s technician, and – well, you know we have our Hands-on coming up. I was just finalizing our PMT specifications.” They still had a few days to submit the prep work, but Loria was insistent they get everything in early. She had a hankering to get the highest score this time, after their disappointing performance in the first Hands-on training. Her attitude would have probably annoyed him if he wasn’t also a little eager to perform better.
The professor squinted, reading over the form before handing it back. “An extended trek through the wilderness, is it?”
Cliff’s eyebrows went up. “You can tell that just by the lists of nodes?”
Professor Jericho chuckled, shaking his head. “No, Clifford. It’s the same every year – the first Hands-on emulates a delivery contract. The second is a longer, more involved contract over several days. The third – well, I won’t spoil the suspense for you.”
“It’d be a shame if you did – that’s part of the fun,” Cliff said with a grin. This was the first time he’d spoken to the professor outside of class, and he was surprised by how good-humored he seemed. In his lectures, he was all frowns and severity, but here he seemed downright jovial. When he thought about it, he realized he knew the type – folk who could turn the intensity on and off like a light switch. It struck him that Roose seemed to be the same kind of person, and he wondered if it was common among the Couriers to have such a demeanor.
“I did notice, however, that you’ve left your section of the form blank,” Professor Jericho continued with a probing expression. “Does that mean you’ve had no luck with the book I lent you?”
“Ah-” Cliff started, “Nothing like that, sir, I just hadn’t reached that spot on the form yet.” He coughed, realizing he had yet to thank the professor for the book that had saved his skin from the threat of transferring. “Speaking of which, I really appreciate you lending me that book – it’s been all kinds of useful.”
Professor Jericho shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I haven’t cracked the thing in twenty years – better someone get use out of it than it rot on my shelf.” He frowned slightly. “Though, I would appreciate it if you could return it one piece.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Cliff said, “I’m making sure to treat it well.” It was seeing heavy use, of course, but he’d been careful not to damage it at all. He’d had to resist the urge to flip through it during mealtimes, but that was a small sacrifice to make.
“Wonderful. I wouldn’t like to see it mistreated – it served me well in my time as a Courier, you know.” Cliff eyed the portly man. He wasn’t quite the image of a Courier, and it was easy to forget that he’d been an active Courier for decades before becoming a teacher. “I suppose you haven’t paid much attention to it, but there’s a node in there that purifies drinking water – it proved invaluable when I had a long-term escort mission across a bog.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Cliff frowned. “Can’t you drink water produced by a normal water node?”
“You can,” Professor Jericho said with a nod, “but we were escorting twenty people, and it would take a lot of power to make that much water – with modern PMT tech, power’s less of an issue, of course, but back then efficiency was higher in everyone’s mind. Much more efficient to purify it all at once than spend an hour making ball after ball of water.”
Cliff hummed thoughtfully. There was a certain logic to it, of course, but he wasn’t quite convinced. “Seems a waste of space in your PMT, though, when a simple water node can do the same task ninety percent as well.”
The professor sighed, shaking his head. “Another change of the times, I think. These days, they seem to preach versatility to everyone – the thought, I suppose, is that if you have a PMT that can be used in any scenario, you’ll always be prepared.” He pinched at his chin as he spoke. “In my day, it was less of a one-tool-fits-all approach, but rather the thought that you should have a broad toolbox that could be adjusted to fit any situation.” He chuckled. “I recall that I, in fact, had a box of nodes that I would switch out whenever I needed. Hence the usefulness of that book.”
“Huh,” Cliff said, frowning, “the way Lieutenant Ulster – he’s my PMT Basics professor – the way he talks about it, loosely swapping nodes in and out is inviting disaster.” They were incessantly warned not to be flippant in their PMT maintenance, or else they would be on the hot end of an explosion.
“The lieutenant, of course, has your best interest in mind,” Professor Jericho said, “but I believe the dangers they preach are somewhat overblown.” He tilted his head, frowning thoughtfully. “Then again, the accidents now are far more spectacular than in my day, because the prime stones they slot into PMTs are more powerful than ever.” He shook his head, dismissing the thought. “Either way, at our academy, it’s a liability issue – can’t have influential military and church families barking down our throats because they’re children didn’t understand the dangers of PMTs, now can we?”
Cliff laughed. “Well, don’t you worry, if I somehow blow myself up with my experimenting, my momma and poppa will have the good sense to know it was my fault, not the Academy’s.” If anything, he could imagine them apologizing for his mistake, whatever it was.
“I’m not sure I should be reassured by that thought or frightened,” Professor Jericho said. He glanced at the clock. “That’s enough chatter for one day, I suppose. Go on, you’ve got another class after this, I presume. Good luck with your Hands-on, though take care not to slack on your studies – most Apprentice Couriers see a drop in their grades on the second round of exams, because they get so consumed with their Courier work. Don’t let that happen to you, hm?” He turned to return to his desk but paused. “And of course, if you have any questions about the book, or need advice on node usage, feel free to flag me down after class.”
“I will, sir,” Cliff said, the Professor’s words tumbling around in his brain. Much of his time after receiving the book had been spent deciding which nodes to focus on, but after hearing the old Courier’s words, he wondered if that was the correct approach. Maybe, as Professor Jericho had said, it would be better to build as many as possible to fill up his toolbox. As he walked out of the room, he was already making a mental list of all the nodes he’d skipped over before, those that interested him but didn’t offer quite the versatility he wanted.
***
“We have to decide,” Thalos said, “and don’t give me another ‘I don’t care.’ All three of you said the same thing when I first asked, and that’s not altogether helpful when I feel the same way.” They’d taken taken to meeting for lunch to argue about specifics for the Hands-on, and today’s topic was food.
Cliff looked at his roommate with an amused smile. “Then just decide for yourself. What difference does it make?”
Thalos sighed. “Fine, then we’ll go with the meat rations.”
Nym scrunched up her nose. “Are we allowed to hunt? Meat rations are usually pretty gross.”
“We can’t hunt,” Loria answered, “I asked Roose. They don’t have the gear on hand to test the meat, and without testing, we can’t trust meat from any monsters.”
“If the meat is no good, we’ll go with the vegetables,” Thalos said.
Cliff made a noise, shaking his head. “I eat enough vegetables without being forced to eat them on the trail. If we’re going to be spending days in the wilderness, we might as well enjoy our meals.”
Thalos set his fork down roughly, glaring around at them. “Oh, so you do have opinions,” he said with rare irritation.
Cliff couldn’t help but grin. “Just make a decision, Thalos. None of us will complain either way.”
“The meat rations,” Loria said, “come to think of it, I’d prefer them as well. Is that alright, Nym?”
The girl shrugged. “They’re not really all that different – either way they won’t agree with my stomach, so pick whatever you want.”
“The meat rations, then,” Thalos said.
“Actually-” Cliff started, earning a glare from Thalos. He smirked. “Only joking.”
“That’s the last thing for me, then,” Thalos said, returning his focus to his meal.
Loria nodded. “Good. Nym?”
“I’ve got the path drafted and scheduled, plus a few alternatives in case we come across any – ah – unexpected landslides.” Cliff grimaced as he recalled the first Hands-on. “I’ve also made a prioritized list of the monsters we’ll be dealing with – I’ll get it to you guys soon, but it’s not required to submit, so I’ve been putting it off.” She hummed as she thought. “Other than that, I think I’m finished, too.”
“I’ll take a look at the path you’ve plotted, just to get a second pair of eyes on it,” Loria said, turning to Cliff. “What about you?”
Cliff tapped his spoon on the table, mentally going over the prep-work. “I already submitted the requisition form for the trail trolley and the refueling stones.” He looked over at Nym. “Once our route is finalized, I’ll need to take a look at it to do the calculations for our magic exposure.” That job hadn’t changed from the first Hands-on, though this time he had to spot-check all the numbers himself, rather than relying on the Academy to check his work. “Besides that, I’ll have the PMT specs finalized tomorrow.”
“Still keeping your own setup secret, then?” Loria asked dryly.
“Call it a surprise instead of a secret and it sounds fun,” Cliff said with a grin. She hadn’t been amused when he’d asked for secrecy, but he’d somehow convinced her.
She sighed. “Well, it seems like you’re being diligent enough with everything else, so I’ll let it slide – this time. I’d rather not deal with it after this, if you don’t mind.” He thought she might be acting more lenient because she felt bad about her refusal to change her PMT setup, but at the same time, she’d softened towards him considerably over the past few weeks. He wasn’t sure what had changed, besides the fact that he was a little too busy to spend his time getting on her nerves every day.
“What about on your end, Loria?” Nym asked.
“Well, considering most of my work is making sure you do your work, we’re good to go.”
“Wonderful,” Nym continued, “then does that mean we can go?”
Loria thought a moment before nodding. “Should be good, yeah.”
Nym immediately sprung from her seat, moving to return her tray as she all but dashed out of the dining hall. He would have been offended that she was so eager to leave if he didn’t know that she’d recently had a breakthrough in using her Gift. Before, he knew she’d dreaded going to the Gift class, but now she was downright enthusiastic.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Loria said a moment later, leaving him and Thalos alone at the table.
They chatted idly for a few minutes, until a shaken-looking Jenna wandered into the room. Her eyes widened slightly when she spotted him, and he waved her over.
“Cliff,” she started, “I’m glad I found you. I – ah – I messed up.”
Cliff shared a look with Thalos before gesturing for her to take the seat next to him. “What happened?” he asked when she was sitting.
“It’s just – I was talking to Deb and – it started as a stupid little disagreement about the PMT stuff, and – I don’t know, I lost my head for a moment.”
“Slow down,” Cliff said, “what was the disagreement, what did you say, and what’s got you so shaken up?”
She sighed, giving him an apologetic smile. “Well, I tried to show her the PMT setups for the Hands-on, and she was just pestering me with all these questions, and-” She winced. “I may have insinuated something about her not trusting me, despite me trusting her, even after the, um – incident in the last Hands-on.”
Cliff let out a low whistle. “You went straight for the jugular there, didn’t you? She’s been beating herself up about that one since the day we got back – nearly tried to transfer, she felt so bad.”
“I know!” Jenna cried, “I didn’t even mean it! I was just frustrated, I guess, with all the questions and-” She took a sharp inhale of breath, her eyes watery. It was a rare sight, to see her this shaken, maybe the first time Cliff had ever seen it. Even after they were attacked by the Blink Boar, she hadn’t been so shook up.
Cliff sighed, wrapping the girl in a side-armed hug. “Sounds like you royally screwed up, huh? What do you want me to do?”
“Can you talk to her for me?” Jenna asked quietly, leaning into him.
“’Course not,” he said, looking over at her with slightly amused eyes. “Looking at you here, it seems obvious to me that you feel damned bad about what you said, so you need to apologize. I’m not your poppa, and I’m not gonna apologize for you.”
“I know,” she said, “I’m just – I want us to do well, and I want her to forgive me, and she’s locked herself in her room, and-”
“Listen, if I know Deb,” Cliff said, “and I do, or at least the type of woman she is – she’s hardly stopped thinking about how she’s screwed up to be angry at you. Just keep knocking on her door yelling apologies until she hears you, and I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“You think so?” Jenna asked, looking over at him. Her face was close enough that their noses were almost touching.
“You think I’ve never put my foot in my mouth before?” he asked with a small smile, “sometimes the best you can do is beg for forgiveness. If you mean it, she’ll probably forgive you.”
They looked each other in the eye for a moment before Jenna nodded. “You’re right,” she said, already sounding more sure of herself, “but I think I already knew that.”
“Just needed someone to remind you,” Cliff said with a smirk.
“I’m glad you were here to do that,” Jenna replied, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. She gave him a full hug before standing up and exiting the room, looking considerably better than she had when she came in.
Cliff watched her go with a smile before turning to Thalos, who was looking at him with an amused expression. “I feel like I just witnessed a private moment,” he said.
“She saw you here,” Cliff said with a shrug, “if she wanted privacy, she’d have pulled me somewhere else. Besides, it’s you.” He was closer to Thalos than anyone else on campus, and he couldn’t imagine trying to keep secrets from him – though he imagined Thalos had some secrets he wouldn’t tell Cliff.
“So are you two together, then? Finally, I mean.”
Cliff’s face twisted in amusement. “What are you, my momma asking if I’ve taken a lover? I don’t have time to think about things like that.” He shrugged. “We’re close.” He was pretty strict about taking things casually, and Jenna had yet to complain about it.
Thalos shook his head. “Whatever you say. Just don’t come trying to kick me out of our room when you want a real private moment.”
Cliff grinned. “Don’t be like that, Thalos! You know it’ll be easier to convince you than Loria.”
Thalos hummed. “True,” he finally said, “but try to give me a little warning, at least.”
“We’ll negotiate when the issue comes up,” Cliff replied with a laugh, going back to finish his lunch.