Apparently, Sly had a few friends in Oberon’s security force, not one of whom appeared to be low in the chain of command, and Hunter wasn't quite sure what to make of them. They appeared to be assessing him, and were all quite friendly— much more personable than he would expect from a bunch of career warriors. He'd asked to see Sly, but apparently he'd been unconscious since he collapsed during the rescue. In the meantime, once the medical responders looked Hunter over and declared that he was in one piece, he was picked up by a new armed escort, composed of 5 mean-looking dudes who told him that they had orders to help him finish moving his stuff from the hotel suite to the estate.
Hunter had totally forgotten about the hotel. He felt like he had too much to process from the last few hours. In the span of 5 days he’d left his home of years, placed 5th in a global competition, been adopted into one of the most powerful families in the world, and had almost been killed multiple times by a bunch of psychos. The security forces had been prepared to lay siege to the museum for a few hours at least, but the explosions that they'd heard had been set off by the abolitionists, leading the assembled Guard force to accelerate their timeline for taking action. The terrorists destroyed several Council-themed displays and a few of the ancient relics surrounding those displays were now lost to history.
In the fight to secure the museum, the tale of the Journeyer was almost completely destroyed. Two of the paintings were gone forever. The other two were on various states of destruction and would take a long time to restore.
Hunter regretted the loss, but was glad that he'd been able to see it while it was still whole— to start to see it almost like his dad had, years ago. It had felt like a bridge through time.
It wasn’t like they were the only Asutnahem artifacts in the world. He would take the time to see more of them one day. Who knows, maybe the Barnum Academy had an elective dedicated to ancient history.
Hunters’ new bodyguards drove him back to the hotel in an armored squad van, which had enough room to carry the meager belongings he'd brought with him over to the mansion. One of his bodyguards got a call from Mrs. Verillion on the way. She told him that they were all glad to hear that he was alright, and she asked if Hunter needed anything from his old home in Seckina. The Comics hadn't taken his absence with grace, having invaded the place while he'd been gone. There were threats spray painted around the inside and outside of the house, but his old workbench and some of his tools appeared relatively unharmed
He told her that he'd take the tools. He imagined that if the new room that Stewart was working on was up to Oberon Enterprises’ standard, he'd hardly even miss his old set up.
They spent the night at the hotel, the bodyguards had managed to grab the suite across from Hunters, and took turns watching his door. Not that he cared. It took him less than four minutes to put everything he'd brought with him near the door, and then he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
When he arrived at the mansion the next day, he was surprised to find Mrs. Verilion waiting for him.
“I thought you were all the way out in Seckina,” Hunter said.
“I have a small army of staff to do all of that for me,” she said, “my job for the day is to ensure you get settled in without any more issues. But before that, I'm to escort you to meet with Mr. Oberon and Ms. Aera.”
Hunter had a premonition about his time as an Oberon. He imagined that life would be busy, both before and beyond his coming time at the academy. He was prepared to make the sacrifice, though. Gone were the days of being able to spend 8 hours utterly transfixed by an especially curious set of glyph synergies and their combinations or implications. At least, for the most part.
If there was one thing that Hunter was starting to learn— something from his first time meeting Stewart, was that no matter how busy the next chapter of his life would be, he had a certain amount of power and freedom as an Oberon with which he could shape certain aspects of his life, or at least he hoped.
Synergies were his ticket to his dreams, and he would be damned before he let life take that advantage away from him.
Hunter had expected Mrs. Verillion to bring him to Trey’s office, but instead she led him down a few long hallways, which led to a large room— which Hunter could only refer to as a living room given his lack of experience with the thousand subtleties of luxury lifestyles. Where Trey’s office held a view that exposed the entire stretch of land from the mountain to the capital city, this room was much more humble, featuring what appeared to be a 30 foot pane of glass separating the room from the forest which surrounded the home.
Trey and Aera were standing by a very large, puffy sofa. Another identical sofa sat parallel to it. A large television stood guard before the imposing window, playing some financial news broadcast. Stock tickers scrolled across the bottom of the screen.
“Hunter! I’d have asked Syler what possessed you to make a trip to the museum yesterday of all days, but he is still unconscious from all the excitement,” Trey said, barking a short laugh, “You can tell us all about it. Have you met my daughter yet? I suppose she’s your adopted sister now. Aera, meet Hunter. Hunter, Aera.”
Aera was just as striking in real life as she’d been in all the photos he’d seen of her on the news. She was tall, not as tall as Hunter of course, but tall enough to catch attention, and she had the build of an athlete. Trey had said she had an AR of, what, 40? 30? Such a high AR at such a young age would imply an incredible potential for athleticism that they would have been foolish not to take full advantage of.
Hunter was jealous. She was basically walking history, a world-record holder and she would surely break more records in the future. Who knows how high her AR will reach? What will might they discover about affinity through her development?
She had platinum-blonde hair, cut short but evenly. It contrasted the more popular hairstyles Hunter had seen. It was almost like something out of a science fiction comic book.
He smiled and nodded at her, holding out his hand for her to shake. Her face remained impassive as she reached out and shook it once. She had a hard look in her eye, as if she was doing her best to control herself. Hunter wouldn’t consider himself an expert in reading people, but she didn't seem too pleased to be around him.
“Excellent. Both of you will have plenty of time to get to know each other in the coming days and years,” Trey said. “Hunter, before you fill us in on everything that happened yesterday, I’d like to go over the plan I've set up for you two. Come and sit.”
Trey sat down on one of the sofas. Aera sat beside him, and Hunter felt that it would be awkward if he sat on the same couch so he placed himself on the couch across from them. As he sat, he felt like he fell for a full minute before meeting resistance, and even then, it was almost like he was being cradled by a cloud.
He must have looked as impressed as he felt.
“I always love seeing peoples expressions when they sit on these,” Trey said, patting the armrest beside him, “They’ve been with the family for over a century. Couldn’t tell you where they came from, though.”
“I can honestly say I've never felt anything like it,” Hunter said. It was exactly what he would expect in the house of the leader of a Council Corporation. In fact, comfortable furniture was the least of what he’d expect.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
A steward appeared from the hallway, holding a tray of snacks and beverages. Trey rolled up his sleeves and started to eat as soon as the trays were placed in front of them.
“Dig in, guys. I haven’t eaten all day, so this is breakfast and lunch for me,” Trey said between bites, “My ex-wife, Aera’s mother, lectured me endlessly about eating a bunch of pastries for my first meal of the day. I justify it to myself by limiting such indulgence to a couple of times a week.”
After finishing, he wiped his hands on one of the thick napkins, the kind you’d expect to find in a fine restaurant, and pulled over a small folder. He skimmed the contents for a moment and then nodded.
“The plan! Alright, you two, listen up,” Trey said, clearing his throat.
“Hunter, I've had your school transcripts found— and I was shocked to see that they only seem to record your attendance for the first few years of your elementary education. I did a bit more digging and found a comment which noted that the day after your fathers’ death, you stopped attending school altogether.
Your absence past that point is understandable, but in order to succeed at Barnum, we’ll need to do our best to rectify the gaps in your education. Including your ether and construct knowledge base. Ah-ah, I know,” Trey said, forestalling Hunters’ impending interruption, “but I'll remind you of your performance during the preliminary examination. You would not have attended the competition if it weren’t for Ms. Collingwood. Although your written answers were delightful, you’ll find that Barnum will require your utmost in all academic dimensions. Understood?”
Hunter understood, but he didn’t like it. Names, dates and events were boring. Who cared about who, what, where, and when? All that mattered was how the construct performed.
Aera seemed incredibly unimpressed by her fathers announcement. She considered Hunter with a frown, and Hunter felt himself tense up.
Well, he had wondered what she was like. He figured he could already see how this was going to go. The scorn, then, would go both ways.
He fixed his attention on Trey. If this was how she was going to be, then she wouldn’t matter. He figured he could find plenty of reasons to avoid being around her. The mansion was a big place, and for the next couple of weeks he can spend as much time alone in his room as possible.
“To that end, over the next few weeks we will have you conduct a crash course on all the areas of knowledge you will need to know before you attend the academy. We’ve hired an excellent teacher who you’ll be spending about 7 hours a day with. Obviously, over a half decade worth of education won’t be satisfied within the span of weeks, but we’ll cover as much as we need to in order to get you on the right foot when your courses at Barnum begin. These classes will be supplemented by daily tutoring sessions with Aera,” he said, to the surprise of Hunter and Aera both, “who will also be teaching you the basics of self defense, as martial arts is a part of Barnum’s mandatory curriculum. Any questions?”
“When do we begin?” Aera asked.
“Tomorrow. We’ll give Hunter the day to settle in and prepare himself.”
Aera nodded and stood.
“Will that be all?” She asked.
Trey rose an eyebrow, and they seemed to share some sort of unspoken conversation.
“That’ll be all,” he said. Aera walked out of the room, her pace implying an eagerness to be anywhere else but in that room.
“She’s a very busy young woman. How about you, Hunter?” Trey asked once she’d left, “Any questions?”
“My AR deficiency has influenced my bone and muscle growth. I’m a lot weaker than most my age, I'm not sure if I’ll be well suited for martial arts.”
Trey frowned.
“Of course, despite your impressive performance during the competition, you were working with quite the handicap. I hadn’t realized it also effected you physically, which is an oversight I shouldn’t have made. You have my apologies, however, I still believe it will be in your best interest to learn how to defend yourself. Surely your time at the museum has convinced you of something along that line as well.”
He remembered how pathetic and powerless he’d felt the previous day.
What if part of the reason he hadn’t grown stronger was because he’d never really tried?
“Maybe its worth a try,” Hunter said with a sigh.
“That attitude will get you far in life, Hunter. Now that that’s all out of the way, why don’t you fill me in on what happened yesterday? Its too bad Aera isn’t here to listen, but that’s her loss, isn’t it?”
Hunter shrugged, not wanting to state what he was thinking about the man’s daughter, figuring that it was best to keep things civil.
He took a deep breath before starting. He still felt uncertain about the whole experience, some parts were all a blur. The whole thing felt so surreal. He’d survived a terrorist attack. He had helped save lives.
There was a strong inner voice that criticized that thought.
What if making the construct put them all in more danger than they would have been in otherwise? What if, instead of helping, he’d made things worse, somehow? What if the destruction that the Force explosion had caused had been totally unnecessary?
There was no way for him to know. Plenty of people had told him that his quick thinking helped innocent people live, but did it? He kept his doubts to himself as he told Trey what he remembered from the incident. Trey seemed impressed, and smiled when Hunter told him how much of an impression Sly had made on him.
“Syler was one of the youngest members of the Oberon Guard to ever be brought into our special operations division, and even at such a young age he’s already one of the most decorated officers I have had the honor of employing. But after dozens of successful operations, he decided he wanted to try something a bit quieter. His assignment to you was meant to be relatively low-key compared to what he’s used to.”
“Low key, huh?” Hunter laughed.
“Yeah, but to be fair, even the life of an Oberon isn’t normally as exciting as it has been for you over the last couple of days,” Trey said, and then he sighed.
“You know, Hunter, i’m aware of how much you’ve been going through over the last little while. And I wouldn’t have put so much work on your plate if I didn’t think it was all necessary, you know that right?”
Honestly, Hunter had been kind of pissed when Trey told him that he’d need to spend the next couple of weeks studying. And tutoring sessions with Aera would probably turn out to be just as unpleasant as he was imagining they would.
But he’d agreed to achieve a degree of Excellence at the academy. He knew it was necessary, he just didn’t like it.
“I get it,” Hunter said, “I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you, Hunter. Now, i’ll leave you to spend the rest of the day however you wish, on the condition that you don’t stray too far from the estate. After yesterday, we’ll be playing it safe,” Trey said, standing up to leave, “Just ask any of the house staff to show you around if you get lost. This house can be a bit of a labyrinth if you aren't used to it.”
Hunter thanked him, and enjoyed the solitude of the room for a few minutes before he set out to find his assigned room. As far as he knew, this would be the only time in the next few weeks when he’d be able to do what he wanted, and he planned to make full use of that.
Stewart appeared just as he was leaving, and he informed Hunter that the alterations to his room had all been finished ahead of time. He escorted Hunter to his new room, and Hunter was immediately in love with it. It was incredibly spacious. The workbench was similar to the one he’d been using during the competition. The bed was massive, almost three times the size as Hunters’ old one in Seckina. True to form, the room featured a large window with a similar view to the one that he’d seen in Trey’s office.
The room was like something out of a dream, or a high-end real estate magazine. He had a full walk in closet and ensuite washroom that put the hotel’s to shame. He had his own jacuzzi tub, a double sink nested in a marble countertop. The shower was massive and Hunter was relieved that he wouldn’t have to hunch over to clean his hair.
“I trust you’re satisfied, sir?” Stewart asked.
“It’s perfect,” Hunter said. He remembered the room back in his old house, on the Koar estate. It wasn’t even nearly as great as this one. But what that room had lacked in size and sheer luxury, it made up for in being cozy and private.
Luckily, the big window had sliding blinds that Hunter was quick to close. He would spend the next few hours focused on work, and nothing else.
He’d earned it.
Stewart dismissed himself as Hunter settled in, unpacking what little belongings he had and sitting at the desk. He installed the third arm, and hung the rest of his tools on the small tool-board attached to his wall. He checked the drawers of the workstation and was disappointed to find that the machine tools that he’d had in the competition weren’t installed on this one, which made sense. He figured he wouldn’t need them, anyways. Most of his work from here on out would be weighted towards research.
He reviewed his mental table of synergies, and decided that now would be a good time to record them. Then a small and quiet voice told him that he couldn’t afford to risk anyone finding it, especially here. Those thoughts had been present back in Seckina too. The neighborhood hadn’t been safe, and he’d listened to that paranoid part of himself because it was pragmatic to do so. Who knew what the Comics were capable of?
Now, he felt worried that Trey’s would have people watching him, waiting for any sign that he’d produced something the company could use. Maybe the paranoia wasn’t serving him very well in this situation. Maybe he was thinking too much.
But maybe he wasn’t, and that possibility was enough to convince him to continue to keep his research locked deeply inside his own mind.