He 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 actually 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 be 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 actually pretty basic compared to what he was used to doing, it would seem a bit arrogant. And maybe a little bit 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 managed to divide by zero.
“You? Hungry?” She pinched herself, “Nope, I'm not dreaming.”
It occurred to him that she was being sarcastic.
“Ha-ha.”
“Can you wait until we’re finished here? I’m really 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, silently 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, actually there are a few times. There was that time when—”
“So how about getting these tests started, hey?” Hunter said as he started to line up the plates on the workbench. Tilda rolled her eyes but eagerly bounced off the chair and grabbed the other pieces of their prototype armor. 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 really take many precautions in order to hide it.
But he really 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 intently, hoping that it all worked out the way they wanted it to.
He marveled at the detail he could make out in the etheric flow through the network. Ever since he’d started to trace out his channels, and watched them as they started to grow and develop on their own, his sensitivity to etherium as it flowed through networks seemed to have amplified by a small amount. He could feel more minute details in the etheric flow, and was feeling some novel sensations he’d never felt before, or at least never really appreciated on their own.
He hadn’t taken too much time to dive into his new and improved sensitivity— mostly because he hadn’t had the time. Between school, Tilda, Aera, and the focus 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 projects. It had taken him years to come up with what’ he’d already developed, and he knew that this work would be something he expanded on for the rest of his life.
“Looks good,” Hunter said, “You want to do the honors?”
She smiled, picking up a hammer and pounding at the exposed plastic plate with all the force she could muster.
It barely left a scratch.
“Looks like it works,” he said, picking up the armor to examine it further. The thin forcefield projected from the plate removed all chance of creating friction with the plates exposed surface, so he had to pick it up from behind.
“Moment of truth,” Tilda said, as she brought forth the next plate. They carefully connected them, the plastic plates clicking together as if they’d been magnetized.
Hunter felt the etherium flowing through them both. They’d successfully created a modular construct network. Not exactly revolutionary, but 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 dent, as the etherium had to support twice the amount of glyphs that it had previously.
Someone with a much higher AR and some battery supplementation could probably wear a whole suit covered in these plates.
“Let’s turn on the wireless transmitter,” Hunter said, activating the first prototype he’d made, which had been modified to support an expanded network of plates.
He felt a small upwelling of pleasure as he activated such a powerful construct with minimal assistance from a battery to supplement the flow of etherium when he wasn’t touching the drawstone. The final product would be much more demanding, as reinforcing metal was much more intensive than reinforcing plastic, and they would need to scale to cover a whole person, and potentially more than that.
The construct activated, the etherium flowed, and Tilda reported the successful transmission once the first prototype plate was successfully attached to the others.
They both cheered and hugged each other. Tilda was much more enthusiastic and practically jumped up an down.
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 why 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 of 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 good 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 made sure to remember 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 honestly had no idea.
“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 a bit 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 huge business. Its relatively cheap compared to other armor options, both in cost and in AR requirement. We could get thousands of orders, maybe more, a year,” Hunter said, his pulse quickening as he started to do the math, “We could leverage some of my family’s network to advertise and distribute, meaning we wouldn’t even have to worry about slowly ramping business up. We could be talking about millions of credits a year, if we get enough interest.”
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Hunter realized that if they really decided to make a business out of this, it could start to expand more than he’d anticipated. 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 too, as he’d finally start contributing to the company— and ultimately to the family she loves.
Tilda’s eyes widened.
“Not just a million, but millions, plural?”
“Potentially,” Hunter said, hating to dim her enthusiasm, “potentially millions. 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 probably be a lot, but that’s more than I expected.”
Her eyes moved as she talked, she seemed to be deep in thought. There food arrived, and Hunter dug in. He was almost done his first portion of fries when he realized that Tilda had barely moved— she hadn’t even realized the food was in front of her.
“Your milkshake is gonna melt,” he said, and Tilda practically jumped.
“Credit for your thoughts?” He asked. She rarely seemed to drift 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 forcefield across a dynamic, moving surface.
“Nothing, just thinking of what life could be like with that kind of money,” she said, “It would really help my family out.”
Hunter really 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 caught it and smiled back at him. They enjoyed each others gaze for a moment before Hunter felt his cheeks start to warm up a bit.
In his opinion, she had the most beautiful eyes in the world.
After dinner, they walked to Hunters apartment. They stood outside for a second, neither of them seemed eager to leave. Hunter was gripped by a sudden urge, and he leaned forward and kissed her. She accepted the kiss, leaning into him and gently pulling him a bit closer by his shirt collar. Hunter had never kissed a girl before. He felt his heartbeat accelerate rapidly with a rapidly expanding intensity of excitement and warmth.
He always wondered what it would be like to feel another pair of lips against his. It felt good, it felt intimate. It felt like a deeper connection to her, something he hadn’t even realized he’d been craving until that very moment.
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 said, feeling himself heat up with every syllable that left his mouth, knowing that the beauty he’d wished to share with her had derailed the moment he’d opened his mouth.
Why did he get this way around her?
“I’m awesome?” Tilda laughed, “really? Shucks, 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— I didn’t know what I could possibly say—”
“—It’s alright, Hunter. Its cute,” she said, but then she hesitated. Her cheer seemed to fade a bit.
“But..” he said, prompting her to continue. She tugged at he sleeve and kept her eyes downcast.
“But, I'm not really sure I want the same thing you do,” She shook her head, as she heard her own words, “I mean I do, but my life has gotten a bit crazy recently and it’s not something I can even think about right now. Maybe once everything’s calmed down?”
“Oh,” he said, the elation he’d been feeling suddenly started to leave him. A small pit started to grow in his gut, “Sure, I don’t want you to feel like 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 softly, “thanks, Hunter.”
Hunter suddenly 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 was willing to be honest with him.
Besides, it wasn’t a complete rejection. She’d kissed him back.
Maybe he could count that as a small victory, one of the many he’d achieved, recently.
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 nice 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 any time.
----------------------------------------
They were meeting at a bar across campus. It took Hunter about 20 minutes to walk there, and he was surprised to find that 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 meet everyone. Everyone, this is the guy I was telling you about,”
The small group of people all welcomed Hunter with friendly smiles. Clark started to introduce 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 business 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 Loomus. He’s here on a personal invitation from Barnum,” Clark said. Joffrey winked and Hunter and gave him a nod.
“Each and every one of these gentleman have 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 personally 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 when it comes to constructs,” Clark said, raising his eyebrow towards Hunter, and Hunter got the impression that it was meant more like question.
Well, he’s always prided himself on his ability with etherium, and there was no reason to start being humble now. 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. They all took turns talking about their progress, and some of the obstacles they’d been dealing with along the way— both in the way of their goals, and mental hurdles they’ve had to overcome. To Hunter it all felt a bit introductory, as if they were retreading old ground for the benefit of Hunter.
But something felt a bit off about the whole thing. 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 simply good friends out to a meal.
But towards Jason, it was how Hunter imagined he’d feel if he’d been invited for a dinner with Trey before he’d even heard of the global youth artisan competition. Jason Chan appeared to be something of a shot caller, or the leader of the group.
It was an interesting dynamic. Who was this young man, and why was he so respected by his peers? Hunter found himself looking forward to their conversation. After everyone had eaten, Jason stood and motioned Hunter to follow him. He led him to the back of the bar, and Hunter was surprised when the Bartender let him through.
“I actually 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 actually well aware of who you are,” Jason said, “I hope you’ll forgive me for any pretense.”
Tension blossomed in Hunters chest. His entire focus converged on Jason.
He studied the young man before him, searching for any sign of danger, but all he could see was that Jason seemed relaxed, with an easygoing smile, waiting patiently for Hunter to respond.
“Sure, my name’s probably gone around campus after what happened at the beginning of the year,” Hunter said.
“Yes, that unfortunate little incident,” Jason said, as he leaned back in his chair. He stared at the ceiling for a moment.
“That’s actually what I want to talk to you about. I owe you an apology.”