“They have a lot of great places around here, but there’s one specifically that’s a bit of a hole in the wall and easy to miss— but they’ve got all sorts of stuff,” she said, leading the way.
Hunter followed, feeling like every step was a labor worthy of being written as a historical epic. The team chatted amongst themselves as they walked, and Hunter tried to listen. So far, none of them had shown any sign of the arrogance he had expected to see from the rest of the teams. He wondered why they’d invited him to come along with them.
Hunter realized that if he wasn’t so exhausted, he might even feel flattered, or incredibly suspicious. But whenever he got this way, anything other than a bland neutrality took a supreme effort of will— an effort that didn’t seem warranted at the moment.
They reached the cafe. Nicole was right, if he wasn’t looking for it, he’d have missed it. But it was busy inside. A few other teams he recognized were seated around the cafe. Some gave the team and Hunter a double-take when they realized he was with them, making comments and laughing. If it bothered Jeremy and the crew, they didn’t show it.
They talked a bit about their expectations. They said they were shooting for four stars, but you could never really know what to expect from the judges. Hunter asked them what they meant by four stars. They seemed surprised to hear the question, but humored him by answering.
“Each judge will give a star if they believe your work deserves a pass. There are 7 judges, so 7 stars is the maximum. Its hard to please them all, everyone’s got their own idea about what constitutes a worthy submission. Most teams squeak through the first round with 4 stars. 5 to 7 stars gets increasingly more rare— only one or two teams receive 7 star scores, and 3 or 4 will receive 6 stars. Those handful of teams are typically the ones with the highest chance of making it to the end if they don’t screw up royally in the second round.
“So how do you think you did?” Jeremy asked Hunter once they all sat down around a small table. Hunter sipped his coffee, and delighted in the creamy, sugary concoction. Rodney had watched him pile in the sugar with horror, looking at Hunter like he’d just thrown an egg at a nun.
Hunter loved coffee, but he couldn’t stand the taste of the stuff— yet couldn’t argue with its effectiveness. He’d grown to rely on it, and if he couldn’t live without it then he was going to live with it on his own terms, and enjoy it.
It was one of the few areas of his life he felt he had full control over, and damnit, he was going to indulge in it as much as he could.
“Of course I can’t be sure, but I like my odds,” Hunter answered.
Rodney raised an eyebrow, but declined to offer whatever was on his mind to the rest of the team.
“It was just a battery. Four pairs of hands made for pretty quick work,” Nicole said, flexing her arms.
“It wasn’t our first time making a battery, we build a bunch for our school back in Lum,” Jeremy told Hunter.
“You’re all from Lumina?” Hunter asked. One of his least favorite of the Council Seats. Not that he held it against these guys.
“Born and raised, except for me,” Nicole said.
“The rest of us grew up together. Rodney’s a couple of years younger than the rest of us but was able to skip a couple of grades. He joined our club as soon as he could. Nicole came from the Smith domain a year later. We’ve been competing in various local competitions ever since.”
Hunter had always wondered what it would be like to join a club.
“You say you’re confident in your submission for the first round?” Rodney asked, apparently still thinking about what Hunter had said.
Hunter nodded.
“I’m skeptical,” Rodney said, crossing his arms again.
“Okay,” Hunter said, losing all interest in the conversation.
“It took two of us to machine the parts, and the other two took an hour to carve all the ether channels. I can’t imagine you were able to get all of that work done on your own,” Rodney said, his voice raising slightly.
Hunter shrugged.
He wanted to tell Rodney that it wasn’t any of his business how he designed and created his submission, but he was too tired to start an argument, he was also enjoying their company for the most part.
“He probably cheated,” someone said, from directly behind Hunter. Hunter closed his eyes, he recognized the voice. David Nettle.
Hunter stood and thanked the team for the coffee, but this whole situation was not worth the effort. He had no patience for any drama at the moment.
“Not gonna speak up for yourself? Guilty conscience?” David asked, his team blocked the way out of the cafe. Hunter noticed a few of the staff looking at them curiously.
“Come on, Hunter. Admit it, there’s no way someone with an affinity rating of five could even hope to complete the first round of the competition on their own. What do you even plan to accomplish here, anyways?” David asked. His team nodded, as if they were all dying to know.
“Why is it any of your business?” Hunter asked, each word felt like it carried a ten pound weight.
He’d believed that their issue with him had been purely strategic. Maybe he’d overestimated them.
Maybe they really were just a bunch of jerks with hyperinflated egos.
“Leave him alone. What’s your problem?” Jeremy asked, his team gathering behind Hunter.
“Don’t worry about it. Go drink your coffees,” one of David’s team members waved Jeremy off.
Rodney seemed to take that personally.
“You don’t have even the most miniscule trace of a right to wave that disease-ridden paw towards my friends. You talk to us like that again, I will make it my life’s mission to capsize your career before it begins. I will humiliate you. Do you understand me? Do you think I'm joking? Jeremy, tell him I'm not joking. Tell him about—”
“—Relax, Rod,” Jeremy said. David was about to say something but Jeremy held up a finger, “Shut up.”
David’s eyes seemed to inflame, almost bursting forth from their sockets. His face went red.
“Do you have any idea who I am? Do you know who my father is? I swear, you won’t—”
“—Enough! Get out of my cafe before I call ‘enforcement!” A loud, bassey voice echoed off the cafe’s walls. Everyone went quiet. A portly man wearing an apron with the word ‘manager’ printed on it was pointed towards the door.
David looked at the manager like he’d just spit in his food, but he said nothing as he turned and started to leave. He paused and looked back at Hunter and Jeremy’s team.
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“This isn’t over,” David said, storming away with the rest of his team giving them looks which Hunter was sure were meant to be menacing. Maybe at another time they would be.
But he was even more tired now than he was even a few minutes ago.
“Sorry about that,” Hunter said to the team as they followed David’s team out.
“Don’t apologize, you can’t reason with people like him,” Nicole said, “total narcissist.”
“You said the same thing about me,” Rodney scoffed.
“Was I wrong?”
He shot her a disdainful look.
“I rest my case,” she said.
Jeremy sighed and shook his head.
“We saw how the other teams were treating you. I guess we just wanted you to know that you we aren’t all assholes, we don’t really care what name you were born with. Even if you are the son of Gideon Koar, I’d say that just means you have an advantage that we don’t. Low AR or not,” he said.
Hunter considered his words.
They didn’t have to stand up for him back there, and its not like he was going to argue. Being Gideon Koar's’ son came with sorts of advantages in the realm of ether artisanship.
“I appreciate it,” he said. And he did, even through the near-apathetic fugue he was currently feeling, “if we all make it through the second round, let’s do this again. Maybe somewhere a bit less popular?”
He looked at Nicole. She shrugged.
“There’s more than one good spot around town.”
“Deal,” Jeremey said.
Hunter nodded.
They parted ways after Hunter admitted that he was absolutely exhausted and he doubted the coffee was going to help. He imagined he might miss announcement of the first rounds results, so he’ll probably see Jeremy and the team tomorrow if they all passed the round.
He didn’t remember making it back to the suite, or getting into bed, but when he woke up he felt a lot better, if still a bit tired.
He thought over the first round of the competition, and admitted that he might have a problem. That first round had exhausted him. Granted, he had already been tired from lugging around all of his stuff. The competition staff had been kind enough to let him store all of his supplies at the stadium overnight in a private locker.
But tomorrow would have two rounds, almost back to back. He needed a way to stay awake, and energized, if he was going to win.
He figured that what he’d done with the first round wouldn’t be enough to set hunter apart very much from the rest of the competition. Sure, the crosshatch channels were probably a novel innovation in the judges eyes, and the slider switch wasn’t exactly unheard of but might be unique amongst the rest of the submissions.
Although, Hunter couldn’t be quite sure of that. These were teams— more hands to craft more components. Maybe most of the other teams had done something similar. He hadn’t really had the energy or interest to discuss his submission with Jeremy and the crew.
Maybe they’ll get time to talk more enthusiastically tomorrow, if he could keep his energy up.
Now that he was feeling a bit better, he figured it was time to go and see if he’d made the cut.
He showered but wore the same clothes as he was wearing earlier. He only had one more set of clothes for the next day, and he figured he wouldn’t be out for long. He checked the time— the results had been announced a couple of hours ago. But the stadium should be open to the public for another couple of hours at least.
The sun was starting to set over the Oberon Capital city, and he felt strange. Back in Seckina he’d either be home, or would have been on his way home by now. He never felt comfortable taking his chances with the Comics or any of their rival gangs skulking about. Low visibility would also mean that he could trip and break a bone, and bruise half of his body.
He was sure that the Oberon Capital must have had its own crime problems, but from what he’d heard throughout his life, this was one of the safest cities to live in. And this city was bright, lights were everywhere— streetlights, shops, apartment buildings, advertisements at bus stops.
He could feel the life of this city, something that Seckina didn’t have. He could see it in the faces of the smiling families who walked together, in the wagging tails of their dogs, in the faces of passing businessmen and delivery drivers, who all appeared to be on their way somewhere, but totally unconcerned about their safety.
Compared to Seckina, the capital city felt vibrant, and pulsing with life. Even the homeless were smiling, not that there were many homeless. Hunter passed one by on his way to the stadium, and he figured he could spare a credit. He dropped it into the empty coffee cup the man was holding out. The homeless man touched his hand to his chest and bowed his head. As hunter went on his way, the man yelled to him, “Fortune favors the brave!”
Then go be brave, he thought, chuckling to himself. Anyone who remained homeless either chose to be that way or would never be able to support themselves. He didn’t mind giving a credit if he could, but their were plenty of corporate programs that offered housing and food in exchange for cheap labor, with some savings and incentive programs. If this guy wasn’t there, then it could also be the case that he had a couple of problems that no one wanted to deal with— like shouting empty platitudes at strangers.
Not that he was going to judge the man. Hunter felt like he was walking a very risky path that could very well see him end up in a situation that wasn’t much better than the homeless guy.
Fortune favors the brave. Hopefully he’s right. If what Hunter was doing wasn’t brave, then he didn’t know what was.
Hunter wasn’t sure how much bravery was going to help him here. He’d been brave when he’d signed up for the preliminary test, but he’d failed that, only making it here based on Joyce’s intervention and recommendation.
But when Hunter thought about it, it hadn’t really been bravery that had led him to that test. It had been desperation.
He wanted to feel confident, but as he got closer to the stadium, he felt like it was getting harder to justify his initial certainty about his odds. How could he know what the other teams were capable of? As far as he knew, he’d totally miscalculated, designing something outside the bounds of what the judges were looking for. What if they thought his submission was too complicated? What if they took away stars because he’d overreached, or taken a nonstandard route?
Joyce had said that the first round was about assessing fundamentals, but he’d gone a completely different direction than the typical fundamentals that he would expect to be taught. Rodney was apparently some genius, and he had hadn’t shown any sign that he considered a simpler channel design pattern to be possible. If he had, then he probably wouldn’t have had so much trouble believing that Hunter was capable of finishing the round on his own.
Hunter suddenly felt his chest tighten.
Would that mean that they’d take away stars for using synergies? What had Joyce meant by an experts touch? Did that mean innovation would be rewarded, if it wasn’t a familiar design?
The area outside the stadium was pretty busy for this time of day. No one recognized him though and he sighed in relief. The last thing he needed right now was for some dickheads to start pestering him about how much his presence bothered them.
He entered the stadium, and looked around for the display with the results from the first round. The more he thought about the other teams, the less he wanted to risk getting seen by them.
There was a large board on the far wall. He approached it, and saw columns listing names, next to a number of stars.
So this was it.
If he passed, he would have another opportunity to carve out a bright future for himself. The head of Oberon Enterprises would be paying attention.
If he failed, that attention would mean nothing. His future would go in a direction which might involve decades of cheap labor while he saved every credit he could in order to afford his own home, and a few sweet luxuries.
A life similar to what he’d been living for years, if he thought about it. But Hunter wanted and needed something more for himself.
He was the son of Gideon Koar. He wad destined for greatness.
Steeling himself with his greatest source of pride, he examine the board.
There were four columns.
The first column only had a dozen teams on it, all having earned 4 stars. Hunter didn’t see his name listed.
There were only six 5-star results. Again, Hunter didn’t see his name, but he recognized Jeremy, Nicole, Stephan, and Rodney. They’d done better than they’d hoped.
He felt nervous.
He didn’t see his name in the two teams listed in the 6-star column, but he did see David Nettle’s name listed with the rest of his team.
He held his breath as he looked at the final column.
“Hunter Koar, 7 Stars”
“YES!” He shouted, pumping his fists above his head. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He’d gained a few looks from the passing staff and a few others— some despondent looking families that Hunter hadn’t noticed when he’d walked in.
He almost felt bad for them, but screw it, he was happy. But now that he knew he’d made it, he felt even better than he had from his nap.
Hunter studied the board again. The other team that had one were composed of names he hadn’t seen before. Jonathan Berrymoore, Tilda Burner, and Philipe Golbrune. Maybe these would be his fiercest competition, aside from the other two teams who’d earned 6 stars.
Now that he thought about it, he had heard of them before. They’d been mentioned in the news report he heard when he’d heard a couple of days ago. They’d won second place last year.
The number of teams had been dramatically reduced. Apparently, any score below 4 stars was considered a disqualification. From 50 to 22— over half of the teams had been eliminated in the first round.
7 stars. All the tension from the last few days felt like they’d bled out of him, replaced with a sense of something warmer, more expansive. It was a unanimous pass.
His gamble had paid off. Suddenly, he felt much more confident about the next round.
“See if you can wrap your head around that, Rodney,” Hunter muttered as he left the stadium. he wanted to celebrate, but he decided not to.
Tomorrow was going to be a very long day, and he needed all the rest he could get.