***

The following day, Althea and I are tired, slightly hangover and in a sour mood. To stop Kaelich from pestering us about our date – and from going on and on about the cuteness of the baby seal that forgave xir sins at the Officers’ temple, or however that works – I suggest we do some more training. Sorivel groans, but Kaelich accepts enthusiastically.

“Again,” Kaelich says, as we stand in a row at the shooting range. Xe’s grinning like an idiot – the fucker is enjoying this.

Althea raises her arms, her fingers turn to glass, and green cubes appear in midair, merging into a flat vertical barrier between us and the target mannequins.

“Ready,” Kaelich says. One of Sorivel’s drones is buzzing in midair, and the horrific spider-like one is hanging from the ceiling. I aim my pistol at my target – Althea’s shield distorts light, though, like thick tinted glass, so aiming isn’t reliable.

“Three,” Althea says. “Two, one, go!”

Her shield dissolves into sparks – but Kaelich shoots a millisecond too early, and Althea winces, as else-glass scatters all around the room. I shoot, but the visual chaos throws off my aim, and I only get a glancing hit. At least, both of Sorivel’s drones hit their targets.

“Can you be more consistent with the timing, Althea?” Kaelich asks, frowning. “You should dismiss the shield exactly at go.”

“I did,” Althea says. “You shot too early.”

Sorivel closes his eyes – like always when he does fancy stuff with his implants.

“Not really correct,” he says. “You delayed 0.4 seconds after go in the last attempt. It was 0.2 on the previous one. I know you can’t be perfectly accurate, but we need consistency for this to work.”

Althea groans in frustration.

“Fuck. We never practiced that at the Glass Tower,” she says.

“Honestly, council mages and ThauCon should train together from Basic,” Kaelich answers. “How come no one ever thought about that?”

“Pretty sure a lot of people thought about that,” Althea retorts, “but you know, mages are sinful and they stink.”

Sorivel looks away, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“Can you summon your shield faster than that?” He asks. “I don’t mean it as criticism, if you can’t, you can’t. But it takes you 3.1 seconds from the moment you Reach until you form a stable shield. That’s fine if you do it before a fight, but it’s a very long time in combat. I’m not sure dismissing it to let Kaelich shoot is a viable tactic.”

Althea looks at him, bristling, but then she relaxes.

“You have a point, unfortunately,” she admits. ”And no, I can’t summon this kind of shield faster, maybe if I focused on speed I could shave half a second, but no more. Different kinds of shields are much faster to summon, but they would protect only me.”

“Well, it can still work if we time it right,” Kaelich says. “But we should try new options. Maybe you could shape the shield with something like a firing hole?”

Althea cocks her head.

“Wait. That’s actually pretty smart,” she says. “Did that baby seal give you advice? Was it a miracle seal, Sori?”

“It was a perfectly regular seal,” Sorivel says, strained, “there are no miracles except in Landfall, you know. We take care of animals, because that’s our duty to the Officers and to Fallen Earth, we don’t ask them for advice.”

“He’s lying, the miracle seal totally blessed me,” Kaelich grins. “She liked me much more than she liked Sori! He was livid. Anyway, wanna try the firing hole trick?”

Althea shakes her head.

“Blinking my shield like that is exhausting - which is one problem with that tactic,” she says, as she sprawls prettily on a bench. “I think I’m done for the day. Also, I’ll need some trial and error to work out how to form holes in my shield. That’s something you usually don’t want in a defensive barrier, you know.”

“Oh,” Kaelich says, disappointed. Then xe snaps xir fingers and smiles again. Lady of Pains, xe’s so fucking full of energy today. Couldn’t we binge Ocean Woman while napping?

“Well, Althea’s out, but I have great news!” Xe says. “I’ve been thinking about how you all liked the VR game – yeah, that seal pup gave me amazing advice. So, last night I promised Aeniki a chocolate-and-raspberries soufflé, and she did her magic.

“She managed to install a virtual training room software on the mannequins, and while we don’t have VR training suits, she found a version that runs on Stemlink. We can have mannequins sort of behave like mages, even using different paths. It’s cool!”

I trained with VR suits in Intelligence, they’re basically a more advanced version of the rigs in the arcade. It’s a great training tool, as close to a realistic operation as you can get without an actual mage. I didn’t think we could have something like that here, though.

“But I don’t have implants! I won’t see anything if you use Stemlink!” Althea complains.

“And that’s why I’m suggesting it now, you’re out anyway,” Kaelich says. “I’ll ask Aeniki if she can make the sim work with VR goggles, but I don’t want to get too cake-indebted, she’s scary, so I’ll do that next week. For now, you can cheer us, I guess?”

She scoffs. “I guess watching you fight as a team is still useful. Are you going to train while in your underwear?”

“Why would we do that?” I ask, confused. “We won’t use a VR rig.”

She shrugs. “You could do that so I have fun, too,” she says, sticking her tongue out. “Oh, wait. I’m in a committed, exclusive relationship. Can’t only Ceri train in her underwear?”

“Thank you, Althea, you managed to turn even training into something sinful,” Sorivel mutters.

“So, you two did…” Kaelich asks, beaming.

“Let’s drop this utterly ridiculous line of discussion,” I say, blushing – but not nearly as much as I’d have, once. I’m getting used to Karesians being terrible. I have a Karesian girlfriend, after all. And she even sort-of remembered that I asked for an exclusive relationship.

Kaelich raises xir hands, not pressing the issue further - for now. “Ok, ok, let’s move to the training room. As for your drones, Sori, Aeniki checked the models and found the right emulations. That girl is great, as long as you feed her and don’t let her get under your skin.”

We reach the training room – a vast concrete hall with mattresses, rusty gym equipment, and most importantly, movable plastic barriers that can be used to create a mock building.

“Let’s try this, then,” I say. I go grab a rod-like practice sword - I hate how wrong it feels in my hands, but it has the right length and weight, and the software will pretend it’s a silver sword. Kaelich takes a fake pistol which looks like a plastic toy for children, wrinkling his nose.

“Let’s do this,” he says, “I’m plugging you into the simulation.”

An alert pops up in my view, and I blink twice to authorize. It asks for a lot of permissions.

“You’re sure our cake-loving specialist corporal won’t give us malware, right?” Sorivel asks, a bit anxious. With his specialized drone control neuralware, he can’t easily reset his implants if something goes wrong.

“She’s definitely good at what she does, so she won’t give us malware by accident,” Kaelich says, “and I don’t think she’d do it on purpose. I’m, like, sixty percent sure we’re friends.”

The program installs, with the annoying buzz inside the skull of updating neuralware. I look down at my prop sword, I see a proper, sharp sword sketched in green around it. In the same way, there are outlines of full armors around Kaelich and Sorivel. I move, and the digital armor matches my movement almost perfectly - a moment later, a fake HUD appears in my vision, identical to combat armor’s visor.

“That’s a rather good program,” Sorivel says, with honest awe in his voice. “Neuralware sucks at non pre-rendered visuals. How does it…”

“I’ve no idea how anything works, I’m stupid as a goat,” Kaelich answers, cheerful. “Anyway, there are different training scenarios, including a cool one with a dragon that I don’t think is official, but I want to try, and… but let’s start with a vanilla raid to get the hang of it. What mage should we face? We can pick level and path.”

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A mannequin rises to its feet in front of us, with jerking motions, and after a few random sparks in my vision, the red outline of a person - with flesh and clothes - appears around it. It even has the glowing eyes of a mage. The limited resolution of the training program makes it weirdly realistic, because it’s as out of place and violently bright as the Else. Even if nothing can replicate the wrongness of the Else.

“Pick a Juggler primary, Shieldmaker secondary,” Althea says, “show me how you’d fight me.”

“Nice! Okay let’s try to kill Althea,” Kaelich says, sounding enthusiastic – I find the idea far less appealing, but I can’t come up with any reasonable objection, so I stay silent.

Kaelich closes xir eyes and mumbles for a bit – xe should learn to subvocalize properly. Red cubes appear on the room’s floor – representing objects a Juggler could move and throw at us, I guess.

“What level are you?” Kaelich asks.

“Two point six, last time I checked,” Althea answers.

Kaelich whistles. “Fucking Abyss, why do you even need us…Well, let’s do it. 2.6, Wind-path primary, Glass-path secondary. Specialization… Juggler and Shieldmaker, you said, right? Low control because Sorivel says you’re shit at that.”

“What?” Althea asks, outraged.

“I didn’t say that, precisely,” Sorivel mutters, looking away. He surely has strong opinions about magic, for someone who rejected it.

“I can pick high, average, low – what’s the best fit for you?” Kaelich asks.

“Err, let’s say low, so it’s easier for you,” Althea answers. “But you’ll still pay for that, Sorivel.”

As the simulation loads, some plastic barriers raise from the floor and others retract, creating a mock corridor and a two-rooms apartment. Soon, the Stemlink software renders them as gray concrete-like walls and adds a ceiling.

With creepy, clumsy movements two mannequins walk to take their places inside one ‘room’. A third service mannequin carries a couple polystyrene boards to represent tables and furniture - the rest will be virtual.

I raise my sword and move behind the rubber wall, now as tall as I am. Two of Sorivel’s drones zip by my side, and the horrible spider follows me.

It’s little more than a videogame, I’m holding a piece of rubber, the enemy is a mannequin, and yet I feel a thrill - of fear and excitement - that I never felt in training. It’s different now, knowing I could meet a real mage, and my life would depend on the two teammates who are play-acting with me.

I take a deep breath.

“Let’s go,” I say.

“So,” Kaelich says, in his serious I’m a real officer voice, “the scenario is a hostage situation. A mid-level mage…”

“...a powerful mage,” Althea corrects.

“...a dangerous, unhinged Initiate, betrayed ThauCon and took a hostage after being surrounded. We must neutralize her without harming the hostage.”

As the simulation loads, other details complete the scenario - a door where in reality there’s only a gap in the wall, a window where there’s a solid slat.

“Let’s try the beta raid pattern,” Kaelich goes on. “We don’t have good window sightlines. Also, I hate using the fake windows. So, I’ll stand by the door. Ceri goes in, I cover with suppressing fire, Sori pilots his drones to drop a theta grenade.”

“If the simulation doesn’t suck,” Althea says, “the mage will have strong magical armor. My personal shield is no joke.”

Kaelich nods. “Our unhinged, dangerous Althea has the best paths to fight against us. Silver doesn’t stop a thrown object, and a Maker’s shield can take a beating. Bullets will help to a point, so this one is mostly on you, Cerical.”

I nod. After a theta grenade, a silver blade should go straight through the shield of any mage below level three, but a Shieldmaker’s protection might deflect the first blow.

“Drones synced,” Sorivel says. There’s a hint of excitement in his voice, which surprises me - he’s always dead serious while we’re on the job.

“Simulation ready,” Kaelich says, as we enter the channel – training helmets mute sounds like the real ones. “Cerical, make sure you don’t put the hostage in the mage’s line of fire. Let’s take position.”

We walk next to the ‘door’, Kaelich with his rifle, I with my sword ready. The simulation will wait for us to begin, but we fall into the brisk-pace-but-not-quite-run which we’d use in a real raid. Red circles appear on my HUD - theta signals. The mage starts active in this scenario.

I get a vivid flash of Althea, eyes burning green and face distorted with fury, but I squash that away. This is just a glorified sim game, we’re not really fighting her. She came up with this specific scenario, and Kaelich went along with it, because they’re stupid.

“Blue Drone here, target in my sight,” Sorivel says, “one hostile. They’re using a bubble-shaped shield. Level 2.6, Maker’s path. Well, obviously. On your signal, I’ll send in Hope with a theta grenade.”

“Blue leader, copy,” Kaelich answers, standing a few steps behind me. “Ceri, open the door on my signal. Three, two, one, go!”

I kick the non-existent door open, and the training armor does a decent attempt at simulating the feeling of hitting something. Inside the room, I find myself five steps from the mage. It’s a stupid looking mannequin, but red light envelops it in a bubble, and gathers in its eyes and fingers, making me flinch for a fraction of a second.

There’s a pop, almost like the real sound, and the theta grenade detonates, with a burst of blue light that wouldn’t happen in real life. The mage’s protective bubble wavers and thins, like a candle someone is blowing on - but it doesn’t collapse.

It’s just a game. I run to the mage, sword at my side, ready to strike at their chest. In a hostage situation, we wouldn’t try to take them alive.

Kaelich shoots, and the red shield finally splinters like glass, leaving only a thin red aura around the mage.

Before I can reach them, though, there’s a flash of red light, and a rendered chair lying on the ground flies toward me, rattlesnake-fast. I dodge sharply on the right, managing to keep my balance, but it breaks my charge.

Kaelich steps into the room, shooting again - at this range, even a worse gunman wouldn’t miss. I take a side step to leave xem a firing line and rush the mage, lunging at their chest.

The mage tries to dodge but fails, and as my sword makes contact, the last shreds of their red shield wavers, but still they don’t collapse, and they take a step back, pushing a table between us with a gesture. Lord of Seas, maker’s shields are strong – it was easier to break the real Adept’s shield at the train station!

The mage raises a hand, in a jerky gesture eerily similar to those Althea usually makes, and a red alert blossoms on my HUD as green cubes, representing small loose objects, float in midair.

“Duck, Kael!” Sorivel calls, and I get a glimpse of the green cube flying toward him. But it’s not my problem, now - I know the table is a physical prop, so I leap over it and jump past it, ramming my sword into the mage’s chest.

I’m so taken by the simulation, for a moment I’m confused when my foam sword bounces on the metal chest. The mannequin turns to face me, and even in the simulation, I feel a stab of adrenaline at its glowing red eyes. But while the foam prop bounced, the pretend sword went right through its target, and after a moment the red light fades from the simulation.

TARGET ELIMINATED, the system warns us. PARTIAL SUCCESS.

“Partial?” I ask, outraged. “The hostage is still there. The mage is as dead as they go.”

“Err, so am I,” says Kaelich, apologetic. I check, and yes, the score table lists him killed in action. “Sorry, got hit by the flying… whatever the cube was supposed to be. I should have stayed behind cover. I thought I could kill the mage with the last bullet, so I overextended.”

“Your action was good, Ceri,” Sorivel says, but he sounds troubled. “But I didn’t expect that strong a defense, after a grenade. It’s… disturbing that this is a mage below level three. They’re supposed to be easily overwhelmed, with a proper raid, and you did almost everything right.”

Kaelich shrugs. “Well, we’re still supposed to bring at least two teams when engaging a high-level Initiate. I guess there’s a reason. And it’s useful to train against stronger opponents than those we’re supposed to fight. That’s when we’d need our training the most, after all. That said… I wish they used more of these simulations in basic training. I didn’t expect to die that easily.”

The simulations in basic training mostly assume a number of very weak enemies, and a more complex environment to navigate. They’re meant to teach a team how to coordinate and move. But it strikes me that, like other parts of ThauCon training, they don’t really prepare us to actually fight against magic. They make it too easy to forget how powerful a mage can be.

“You shouldn’t worry too much,” Althea says, looking smug. “If I’d been there, I’d protected Kaelich with a shield, we’d have easily won, and we’d already be talking about who pays for dinner. I mean, I’d have had a fifty-fifty chance of winning this even alone, obviously. With you, it would be a piece of cake.”

“So, we’re fine,” Sorivel says, “unless the mage we’re fighting is you.”

No one laughs, this time.

Althea looks at him, her eyes icy.

“Do you honestly believe I’ll go rogue, or are you just being an asshole?”

Sorivel shakes his head.

“Captain, be my witness, and forgive me - I trust you, Althea,” he says. “As in, I’m sure you’re loyal to the Agency, and to us. You wouldn’t attack us. Willingly. But we all know that’s not the scenario any of us was thinking about.”

“I wasn’t thinking about any real scenario,” Kaelich says, xir smile strained. “It just sounded fun.”

Sorivel looks at xem.

“You just lied,” he says.

A long silence stretches between us. I really, really want to defend Althea. But I remember Gehat’s warning, and for my life, I can’t find anything to say that is both reassuring and true.

“Well, yeah, it could happen, but it won’t, because Althea isn’t stupid, and if she has control issues, we’ll help her before it turns into a real problem,” Kaelich says, more confident. “The point here was to train against a mage like her, because we could meet one. Anyway, let’s have another go. Same level, but I’ll change paths – let’s try to kill a stronger version of Jaeleri, that will improve everyone’s mood. Same tactics, except this time we all try to survive. Sori, you think you could land a shot with your sniper drone?”

We nod and we get back to our initial positions. Except it doesn’t feel like a game anymore.