"I…" Yori paused, "Kim…" She paused, "Ron will…not be happy." Suddenly Kim had her arms folded, looking at Yori.
"I'm not saying that I should go on missions, but I can train for them…for later." She looked at Yori more closely. "Are you saying Ron won't let me?" She said, her voice dropping twenty degrees in the last syllables. Yori chose her words with care.
"Ron…" Yori paused, "Ron fears for you, Kim." She raised a hand to forestall Kim's comment, "I know it is unfair, but in blaming himself for your imprisonment, he has… become wedded to the idea that he will protect you." She paused, "Even from yourself."
"From Myself?" Kim said, and was suddenly glad for the sound proofing—that had come out a bit louder than she'd intended. Yori didn't flinch.
"It was your actions that led to you being imprisoned for ten years."
"Yeah, well, what does Ron expect—that I would just let him die?"
"Sometimes, in his darker moments, he wished that. He has been very guilty about you, Kim." Yori shook her head, "I'm sorry—I cannot tell you more, it's not my place to do so… but he will be…reluctant to do this." Kim hadn't caught her earlier statement.
"Well we'll just see about that." She said, getting up and walking out, carrying some of the packages she'd bought. Yori followed her, shaking her head.
Kim stalked into the front room of the mansion, listening for Ron's voice. She quickly heard it. He was on the phone.
On the phone? Does he ever just lay around?
"Thank you, sir." Ron was saying. "I just did some of the grunt work." A pause, "I'll keep that in mind, Mr. President. Thank you. Good bye."
"President of what, Ron?" Kim asked as she came in the open door.
"The United States." Ron said. "He decided to whisper in some ears, so the bill will get passed." For a moment, Kim paused.
The President?She'd been given an award, once by the President… but he'd no more ask her opinion or help her pass a bill then fly to the moon. Ron evidently had a different relationship. She shook her head. That was getting off track.
"Ron, I want to start training."
"For what?" He said.
"Missions." Rufus perked up at that, then charged out of the room to find a hiding place.
"No." Ron said.
"What?"
"Okay, how about: Going back to prison for blowing the terms of your parole would really suck." Ron paused, "I seem to remember something in there about neither seeking out missions, or putting yourself in a position where you expect something like that to happen. Rabbi Katz is nice, Kim, but he's not a fool and he won't let you run over him."
Kim was still processing Ron and "no." He was…how could he… Maybe she should.
"Don't bother with the Puppy Dog pout." Ron said. "No missions." Now Kim felt the blood rushing to her face, as unexpected fury broke out. She was out of jail and part of that meant that she could do what she wanted to! A small part of her pointed out that it was Ron's house and he had a say in what was done, but the rest of her shouted that part down.
"Ronald Stoppable…" She said, "I am not going on a mission yet, but you have no right to tell me what I can, or cannot do! I am not your kid!" A brief flash of pain went past Ron's features.
"Kim. He said, reaching out. Kim slapped his hand aside.
"Don't 'Kim' me!" She said. "I am not a kid, Ron, and I am going to get back in shape and that means training."
"OK." Ron said,
"And-ok?"
"OK." Ron repeated. "But some ground rules."
"What?"
"No missions. There's a bit more to lose lying to your parole officer than there was to your parents."
"Ok…"
"And you only train in the chamber when Yori or I can supervise—it can be dangerous and you don't know how to use it yet."
"OK…"
"And Kim?"
"Ron?"
"Look at me and tell me that you aren't doing this to try and start doing missions behind anyone's back." Kim blinked, then reddened. After one incident, she had never lied to Ron.
"Unless I get permission from Rabbi Katz and the parole board, no." Kim said, and sighed, unhappily.
"Good." Ron said, and then suddenly chipper again, motioned to her. "Let's go."
Success! Kim thought. Ron had given in pretty easi-
Kim blinked, and suddenly, as Ron kept walking down towards the drill room, went cold.
Ron had…played her. Not in the sense of lying to her, but in the sense of realizing she was about to throw a fit, and smoothly giving in just enough to avert it.
In fact…he'd acted…
Exactly like clueful parents had, and she'd been acting exactly like a teenager…
But I'm not…
You were sure acting like one.
He has no right!
So what are you going to do? Turn around and refuse to do what you asked to do? I know! How about go up and sulk in the guest room. That'll be real mature. Kim shook her head, as she heard Yori follow her.
It wasn't that everyone else had suddenly changed, Kim thought. Bonnie, Tara, even Ron and Yori…they'd stayed the same, were just like every other group of twenty something's.
It wasn't them. It was her. They were adults…she was still a teen. Kim wondered how long it had been since someone had told Bonnie to clean her room. For her, it was a regulation chore, complete with punishments if you didn't do it.
The others had ten years of dealing with people, of college, job and vacation… Kim had had ten years of dealing with guards or prison consulors, or the occasional permitted meeting with Ron or her parents, and the even rarer meetings with the other inmates.
How much else had she missed? Kim bit her lip as she followed Ron. Unconsciously, one hand clenched into a fist.
In the dressing room for the Dojo, Ron pulled out a package that looked a lot like his nanomorph armor.
"This is the drill suit." He said. "Watch." Ron stripped nude, causing Kim to goggle slightly, since she and Yori were in the room. Well, partially because of that. Ron's muscles were defined and flowing, but not overly massive. Kim saw a tracery of fine scars on his back, like someone had fired glass at him. Her eyes dipped down a little further.
Oops, Kim shot her eyes back up to chest level, reddening. Then the suit was flowing over Ron, covering him, up to the neck.
"It'll cover my face in a second." Ron said, "This isn't completely like the combat suit. Yori—why don't you help Kim."
"Yes, Ron." Yori said. As she approached Kim, she had another package. "You'll have to disrobe, Kim-san." Kim took off her clothes. That didn't embarrass her very much—in prison even when she was showering alone, there was always a camera watching or one of the female guards. Granted, they were mostly married women, but still, after a while you got used to it.
Of course, the implication was that Ron and Yori probably disrobed like this all the time…so why did the easy familiarity they had with each other bug her more than the image of them making wild passionate sex? Then the liquid was flowing up into her face and for a second Kim started to panic, but then she could see, and feel…almost like she was wearing nothing. Ron looked like a silver statue.
"This sort of thing is popular at some beaches." Ron commented, "Set it on the skintight setting and it shows everything while still being able to play and run without, ah, hurting anything precious if you fall."
"That's where these come from?" Kim said, running her hands over her body. Except for the tiny feeling of extra thickness, she might be nude—she could feel the air on her… everything.
"Nope—these are Mark X, United States Marine Corps training combat suits—they're a bit different." Ron said. "While everybody else was talking about killer commandoes wearing nanomorph, or the swimsuit that always fit perfectly, the Corps had a better idea—training suits."
"Why?" Kim asked. She and Ron had used MILES gear, the training set up that was common before she went to jail.
"Because a buzzer and a light is a lousy way to tell you you're dead." Ron said. "Kim, These suits… they basically let you feel anything short of deadly pain. If the computer decides you've been shot, it sends a neural signal and you feel like you've been shot. If your leg wouldn't be usable, it'll freeze up your leg. No cheating. No 'critically injured' soldiers strolling out—you have to carry them." He shrugged, "It also protects you, of course—for all the pain, they've had fewer lethal training accidents, but still, this is no picnic."
"Tara wore one of these?"
"Training suit? Probably. Flight suits are a little different, but you know the Marines—Every Marine is a Rifleman first. " Ron grinned, "Remind me to show you a video a friend sent me of her at bayonet practice in basic. She really got into that part, poor dummies."
"I'm ready." Kim said. Ron frowned faintly, and looked at her.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Kim said, the word coming out just a little loud.
"Fine." He said, "Let's go." They walked into the Dojo and Ron touched several controls on a keyboard set up, talking to the computer all the while.
"Lets, try… ah, here's a good one. London, 2011…those Welsh Liberation idiots."
"Welsh?" Kim asked.
"Not many heard about 'em—a racist gang, kind of like our skinheads, and they figured a ticket to the big time would be a nice bunch of hostages." Ron said, looking down, "So they took a classroom full of parents and students hostage." As he was talking, the room started changing. On one corner, a group of adults and children were coming into shimmering life, while several synthodrones walked out. Ron kept talking.
"We can't produce enough synthodrones to have the hostages be them as well, so the computer uses holograms—and your suit "knows" their location, so if you "hit" them, it'll react like you hit something—aided by a high pressure blast of air. He paused, "the Synthodrones just run into the drains for reconstitution, so feel free to hit them. We have other drills where the computer actually uses holograms to make the place "bigger", but this is a simple one. You should see the big U.S. combat simulator at Fort Bragg—they can run up to 1200 synthodrones at once, as both civilian and threat forces." Another few touches, and they were standing in front of a "School", with glass windows and doors. Ron looked over at Kim.
"I handled this one, Yori was out with a broken leg. When you enter the doors, the simulation begins." Kim grinned. Ron had messed up—she'd seen the position of the four bad guys, which mean that they'd be easy to get.
"I'm ready."
"Gun?" Ron asked.
"Gun!" Kim shook her head, "Ron, I don't use guns." A flicker of something behind his eyes…
"Things are a little different with these guys, KP…but OK." Ron said, "Clocks running." Kim nodded. She looked at the door, nope too obvious, so she'd break the window in, and…
Kim was running, feeling in "mission mode" for the first time since she'd entered prison. Kicking through the windows, she "felt" the glass give way under her foot, but she didn't have time for appreciating the technology. There, she was in, two synthodrones raising their guns, Kim spun low, kicked the first ones legs out from under it, and turned to the second one, when all of a sudden the thunder of gunshots filled the room, to a chorus of screams.
Kim turned and her mind turned blank for a tiny second, the wall behind the hostages was covered in blood as the two others were firing on the parents and children, the holographs showing effects that would have had any movie rated NC-17.
What are- A hammer blow struck Kim low in the back, flinging her to the floor. Kim tried to roll over, but for some reason the suit wouldn't let her move, although she was able to get a look at the synthodrone she'd kicked, on its knees holding the shotgun that had just fired.
The damned suit wasn't letting her get up, while the screaming stopped. Then, another synthodrone walked up over her, avoiding her flailing hands. Kim gasped, and for a second forgot that it was a simulation, as the drone pointed a large revolver right at her head. There was a sound of thunder, then the computers emotionless voice as the scene dissolved and the synthodrones froze.
"Simulation terminated at 09.15 seconds. Twelve hostages fatally injured, eight hostages wounded, terminal if no medical aid is received. No hostiles neutralized. One friendly KIA. Score: 0."
TBC.
