Wednesday, September 18th 2013
"You were too hard on them..."
"I did what I had to do."
"You feel guilty about it."
"Sometimes doing the right thing leaves you feeling terrible. But it was still necessary."
"Look at what this sport has done to you. You wouldn't have acted like that a year ago."
"If anything, this sport is maturing me. I see that as a positive. Nothing wrong with that, is it? I am turning eighteen next year."
"Whatever you say...whatever you say..."
Coming out of a dream, Valarie abruptly awoke. Darkness still caked her room, and a glance at her phone told her why; 1 A.M. She sighed and laid back in bed, staring right up at the ceiling. Another dream, and it was a rather interesting one as all Valarie could remember was two voices talking to each other, both undeniably hers, but each had a distinction. One voice spoke with sympathy, an almost motherly tone. Kindness emanated from their words that were like honey. The other voice, too, had compassion, but it was fleeting. What was dominant in their speech was a kind of professionalism that was partially reminiscent of the tone of the book Valarie read over the previous weekend.
Valarie tossed and turned, taking great care not to disturb Emma, still profoundly asleep right beside her. As far as dreams go, it was the least intense by far. Yet, all the same, her mind was busy as she contemplated it. Was one of the voices right that she was indeed too hard on the Puma and AMR crews? Their excuses weren't the worst in the world, though at the same time, the very fact that two tanks on the team participated in a match, tankathlon or not, without her knowing about it grated against her so viciously that she wouldn't be surprised if her very bones had scratch marks on them. She was the captain, for god's sake. This stuff shouldn't happen.
Before falling asleep last night, Valarie did briefly, exceptionally briefly, consider rescinding the punishments she had dispensed and just make the Puma and AMR crews vow they would never do such a thing again. But such a thought was quickly expunged. No, they needed to be punished. They saw the firm line on the ground, plastered with every conceivable warning sign, and they still crossed it.
The tossing and turning then stopped. She was more confident in her actions yesterday, viewing them as totally justified. Discipline is doing that you hate, and undoubtedly does Valarie abhor what she had to do the day before.
Now, the only thing she was unsure of was how long these punishments would last. A week? A month? Or just when the mood strikes her?
Ashley never saw herself as much as a morning person. Getting ready in the morning was perhaps the least favorite thing for her to do in the world. Crawling out of bed, taking a shower, brushing her teeth, all of it an endurance and a dull routine. Mornings were why Ashley preferred her hair short. She remembered her time in elementary school where she would have to repeatedly brush her hair for what seemed like an eternity while also applying a multitude of products to keep it maintained just right. Oh, how she hated that. So much so that before she started middle school, she begged her mom to cut her hair short. Since then, she hasn't looked back. Her short hair was a part of who she was to the point that hair that reached her shoulders was now a foreign concept. Shorter hair, shorter morning routines. She just had to spray the top of her head with water, brush, and that's that.
Then there were morning classes, always a chore. It didn't matter if they were part of a state-of-the-art private school on a gigantic carrier or a dusty public school out in the desert. Morning classes were always a slog to get through. She always felt tired, though that may be from the result of her commonly staying up 'til 1 or 2 A.M. doing whatever her mind sees fit on the internet. It appears a healthy sleep schedule, like long hair, is foreign to her.
In one of her classes, Ashley was in the far corner of the room, just how she liked it. Her own little space was where she could kick back and relax, perhaps even drink some coffee or an energy drink. In this particular class, though, it was alright. The teacher more often than not played video lectures, and when that happened, the lights were dimmed, which was the perfect opportunity for Ashley to lay her head down on the table and catch a few more minutes of sleep without being noticed. Today was a video day, but unfortunately, outside forces had plans for her. There'd be no sleeping for her.
The teacher in the room, before starting the video, got a phone call. After a few moments, he nodded and looked out to the students.
"Ashley Holiday," he called out. "You're requested at the Student Council room."
"Ugh," she groaned in response and slowly rose from her desk. "Why?"
"They haven't said, but they did say it'd be quick. Which is great 'cause you won't miss much of the video."
"Ah, good," Ashley said with the roll of her eyes as she made her way to the door. "Wouldn't miss that for the world."
She left the classroom behind her and traveled the empty hallways toward the student council room. Thankfully for her, she didn't have far to walk as Catalina's student council room was situated in the same building she was in, so all Ashley had to do was climb up a few flights of stairs to get on the right floor. As she entered the room, she felt a rush of cool air hit her as she saw the only two people in the room; Madison and Alice.
"Ashley Meade Holiday," Madison greeted. Ashley's student file was before her. "Pretty name, and quite appropriate for what we are about to ask of you."
Madison motioned to a chair opposite her, with Ashley looking at the pair cautiously before accepting the seat.
"Oh, my mind is just running with all the possibilities."
"I'll get right to it. We got a musical coming up next Wednesday, and we are in need of a piano player. We learned from our head costume designer, your girlfriend, that you play the piano."
"Mmm, I remember her bringing this up a while back," Ashley leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the table. Alice and Madison didn't even bat an eye. "I'm out of practice, though. Haven't touched the piano in a few years, other than playing quick tunes on pianos on display in stores."
"Seven days ought to be more than enough time to get back in the groove, right?"
Ashley tilted her head as she pondered. She laid one of her hands flat, palm facing the ceiling, as she tapped on it with the fingers of her other in a rhythmic, purposeful fashion. She visualized pressing the keys of the piano in the music room back in middle school, an instrument she used and abused. Then, the memories flooded back. The ticking of the old but reliable metronome, the endless encouragement of her music teacher, and the harmonious notes that she played back then. She smiled internally but managed to suppress one from creasing her face. Ashley could feel a twinge of desperation in Madison's voice, and it'd be a cold day in hell before she'd miss an opportunity to do some exploiting.
"Ah, man, I dunno," she said with a shrug. "The only free time I got is that two-hour block between the end of school and the start of the tankery meeting."
"What about after the tankery meeting?" Alice inquired.
Ashley shook her head. "At that time of day, I want to do nothing but relax."
"That two-hour block then," Madison said. "What do you typically do during that time?"
"Oh, well, a girl like me takes great pride and accomplishment in her homework. This school doesn't assign a lot, which I do love, but, all the same, I take great strides to perfect my assignments."
Madison swiveled her chair to a computer nearby and tapped away. Ashley looked and on the screen could see a picture of her. One that was taken during orientation for Catalina.
"I am one keypress away from exempting you from homework for a month," Madison informed. "Would this be satisfactory?"
"My," Ashley uttered. "That would certainly free up some time."
The sound of a keypress was heard, and Madison rolled her chair back to where it was.
"Done."
"Thank you very much, but, unfortunately, there is another thing."
"...Another thing?" Madison echoed. She brought her hands together.
"You see, there is something on my mind that has been bothering me. Heather and I are in the middle of something that would require traveling. An adventure, if you will. Currently, we have some business in Germany to look forward to. We're hedging our bets that the tournament will take us close to Germany, but things like bus fares, food, maybe even hotels are on our minds, and it rather stressful. We don't have the deepest pockets, y'know?"
Alice narrowed her eyes at this. She stood up and retrieved a laptop, whereupon sitting back down was typing away.
"From the registration packet Heather Sloan's parents submitted, it is stated that both her parents are employees at Barstow Community Hospital; a surgeon and general doctor. Professions that make a good income."
Ashley chuckled. "Yes, that's true. But they don't want to spoil Heather."
"MmmHmm," Alice worked on the computer some more. "Heather registered her car to be on this ship. A 2013 BMW 760Li," she closed the laptop. "If they don't want to spoil, they're doing a bad job."
Ashley kept her cool when Alice put her in a corner. She contemplated a response in her head but couldn't take too long or else, no matter what she said, it wouldn't sound convincing. She then gave them a grin.
"An expensive car, no doubt. But, it serves a greater purpose—a test of her character. Her parents got her a BMW to see if such a car would change her, make her into some kind of a spoiled brat. It didn't, obviously. She appreciates what she has now more than ever. As such, asking her parents to take care of travel expenses in this little adventure of ours would make her fail that test."
Madison and Alice looked at each other, wordlessly engaging in a discussion, before turning their attention back at Ashley.
"Very well," Madison said with a slow nod. "I'll finance this little adventure of yours, taking care of all expenses."
"We have a deal then."
"Indeed," Madison chirped. "We expect you at the theater after school."
"You got it," Ashley stood up. "Glad we can work everything out."
She turned on her heel and happily walked out of the room. When the door closed behind her, Madison turned to Alice, where the two girls were smiling.
"I know what you're thinking," Alice remarked.
"Mmm," Madison hummed. "She's not only a musician but an actress as well."
When the final bell of the day rang, Ray made straight for his apartment. The events of the meeting last night were everpresent in his mind, replayed again and again in vivid detail. He, like everyone else on the team, was left edgy. Whenever people caught a glance of Valarie, they made sure to give her a wide berth, just in case her fury has not yet cooled. Ray saw her earlier in the day and saw that her face was neutral. The dictionary definition of neutral. He couldn't tell what mood she was in, be it still hot with rage but kept it better concealed, or has indeed simmered down but not yet in the territory where she could smile. He had something to talk to her about but felt that approaching Valarie wouldn't be appropriate during the school day. Well, before yesterday, he would've gone up to Valarie either between classes or during lunch had he had something important to say, but the mood was now different. Perhaps irrevocably so.
When he arrived at his apartment, he dropped his bag on the floor and made his way to the kitchen, which by now he has become incredibly familiar with. A large pot was retrieved from the cabinet, filled with water, and placed on the stove. The gas was lit, and as the pot was brought to a boil, he prepared the ingredients. Ramen noodles, green onions, sesame seeds, leftover sliced pork, and a pork broth to complement it all. He finished preparing his ingredients just as he heard the boiling water bubbles. They were all dumped into the pot, and the air was filled with the pleasant aroma of noodles, vegetables, and pork. A couple of eggs were fetched from the fridge, and they too were dumped into the soup so that they'd get hardboiled. With a satisfied sigh, he took a step back. Making soup was one of his most favorite things, especially ramen noodles.
As he watched over the soup, he heard the door of his apartment open and close. He didn't react much to it as he knew full well who it was. He had given Natalie a spare key so that she could come and go as she pleased. She came often, and Ray loved every moment spent together, even if all they did was mundane.
"Oooh, we having soup today?" Natalie eagerly remarked. She walked toward the pot to take a closer look and cocked her head to the side. "This is a lot of soup for just two of us."
Ray snorted. "Well, I could eat it all, but this soup is not only for us."
"Oh?"
He went to a cupboard and got out five plastic containers.
"Soup for the Puma and AMR crews. They'll appreciate the gesture."
"This is because of what happened yesterday, huh?"
"Yeah," he answered with a nod. "They're, well, depressed. No one likes getting yelled at like that, especially not in front of everyone. A kind gesture, like giving them soup, will get them on track to feel better. Especially when it's coming from me, the vice-captain."
With a smile, Natalie ran her fingers through Ray's hair. It was getting nice and long, enough for her to get a handful of it.
"That's very nice of you. And, with how you can cook soup," she took in a deep breath. "They'll smile for sure. It's already working for me."
Several minutes passed when Ray glanced at the soup and determined it was ready. The pot was taken off the heat, and the eggs were fished out. He carefully removed the shells to reveal a perfectly cooked hardboiled egg. They were sliced lengthwise and set aside. With a ladle, he poured the soup into the five plastic containers where each was given one half of an egg. He covered them with plastic tops, and they instantly fogged with the steam. Ray pushed three of the containers toward Natalie.
"Mind taking them to Aurora and her crew? I'll take the last two to Cassidy and Nathan."
"Sure thing."
Natalie and Ray placed the containers on trays and headed off to their respective destinations. Cassidy's apartment was just down the hall, so Ray carefully walked as dropping the soup would be an utter tragedy, and he has cried over dropped food before. When he reached the door, as his hands were full, he resorted to lightly kicking it. Moments later, it opened, with Cassidy peeking out. Upon seeing him, she sported a soft smile.
"What's up?" greeted Cassidy. She noticed the soup. "Heeey, that looks good. That for us?"
"It is," Ray replied. "Mind if I come in?"
"Not at all," she waved him in. "Keep it quiet, though. Nathan is asleep."
He acknowledged with a nod and entered the apartment. Unlike everyone else on the team, with each person having their own apartment, when Cassidy and Nathan first arrived at the ship, they specifically asked to share the same unit. Each unit only had one bedroom, so the siblings shared their bed. Their mattress was King size, so it wasn't too much of a big deal. Cassidy would never admit it, but she liked how their sleeping arrangement was. It brought back memories of their childhood, times she adored and cherished.
Ray set the tray on the table in the living room.
"How are you two?"
Cassidy plopped herself down on the couch.
"You want the honest answer? Like shit. Ever since we were kicked out of the garage, we felt horrible. When we came home that night, Nathan cried," Cassidy took a pause and brought a hand to her face. "I hate to see him cry, man. He thinks Valarie hates us all. I told him, again and again, that's not true. She's just disappointed, but that didn't really help."
Ray sat next to her on the couch.
"Look, I'm not gonna say what you guys did was right. Doing tankery without any kind of permission is...is..."
"Stupid? Idiotic? Moronic? Reta──"
"I was gonna say 'unwise', but, well, all those words do apply. The punishments you guys got are kinda severe, I'll admit that."
"It's not the punishments that bother me," Cassidy remarked, arms crossed. "It's yelling at us in front of the whole damn team. That wasn't necessary at all."
"Yeah," Ray scratched the back of his head. "I didn't like that either. I also wasn't consulted by Valarie on any of this. Totally kept in the dark."
"Ain't your roles supposed to be on equal footing?"
"That's what I thought."
There was silence for a moment. Cassidy leaned forward and grabbed one of the containers. She took off the plastic top and when she smelled the aroma of the ramen, hummed with delight.
"You made this, didn't you?"
"I sure did. Only right to make something homemade to cheer people up."
She took a sip and hummed again.
"Oh...wow. This is good!"
"Thank you," Ray said with a blush. "Always love to make ramen. I'll send you a recipe so you can make it for Nathan when he inevitably asks for more."
Cassidy sipped some more of the soup before setting it down. Another satisfied customer of Ray's cooking.
"I don't want to ask too much of you, especially with you now giving us this fantastic soup, but do you think you can help us out here? Talk to Valarie or something?"
Ray shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.
"Ah, man. Maybe. I can't promise anything, and I'll only ask her about lessening your punishment when she's in a much better mood. It'll take some time before she's completely calm, which is good actually, 'cause I need that time to pick my words carefully."
"Do what you can, but, um, but don't risk yourself too much now," Cassidy said, her voice mixed with anxiety and concern. Her eyes were drawn to his and could not avert her gaze. She leaned slightly closer to him. "The last thing I want is you getting chewed out."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about me..." his voice trailed off when he felt a sensation on his hand. Looking down, he saw Cassidy had laid one of her hands on his. For someone who played baseball a lot, they were soft as clouds. "Cassidy..."
Cassidy was snapped out of the trance she was in, looked down, and immediately yanked her hand away. Her cheeks exploded in blushes.
"S-sorry," she stammered and stood up from the couch. "A total, total accident. I-I wasn't thinking. Literally. It was like a reflex!"
Ray stood up with her. "It's okay. I'm flattered, really."
"Yeah, well, I know you are Natalie are together. I've been yelled at by one girl already, like hell am I gonna make it two. But..." her tone changed. "Would it be too much──"
"To ask for a hug?" Ray finished with a smile. "You're not the first to ask."
He opened his arms, and Cassidy resisted every urge to jump into them. The two hugged, and Cassidy relished it. So close to him, she could smell the cologne he put on that morning, the scent fading but still noticeable. It was mixed with the smell of cooking, primarily pork. Oddly, the two meshed well. The warmth from his body was near intoxicating. She wanted this to last forever, and a portion of her mind yearned for things beyond hugging, but her rationality prevailed. Hugging was as far as the pair would go. Anything beyond would only provide short-term bliss that would quickly decay, the consequences something neither wanted to think about. They'll just be friends, good friends. And one can never have enough friends in their lives.
"Say it again one more time."
"Again? I've read it to you over a dozen times by now."
"And it gets more beautiful every time. Now, please, dear, read it again."
Martin chuckled at the endearment.
"Oh, alright. I like reading it too," he adjusted his glasses as he got a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "Ultrasound summary for expectant mother, Gabrielle Redwood," he looked over to Gabrielle, who was beaming and tapped her stomach proudly. "Though they are risks for women experiencing pregnancy in their forties, the fetuses of the patient are progressing at a healthy rate with no defects detected. The estimated due date is March 2nd of next year. Per the patient's request, the gender of the fetuses will not be revealed."
He set the paper aside, and the couple looked at each other with immense pride. In the garage office, they were sat next to each other as they 'worked' on the administration aspect of the team.
"March," Gabrielle said with awe. "I'm going to be a mom next spring...God! I can't believe the words I just said..."
"Well, that bump in your stomach ain't make-believe. It's the real deal."
"I know!" she nearly squealed. "It's all so...amazing!"
"So magical. March is gonna be a month to remember, my lord."
The two reclined in their seats, the mood between them sublime. They held hands as they fantasized what parenthood had in store for them and wished, wished so hard, that March can just come with the snap of their fingers. For herself, Gabrielle imagined cradling her newborns in a hospital bed with Martin right by her side. Oh, she would definitely cry when that moment happens, the exact moment she becomes a mother. Then, a thought manifested in her mind about something that would happen much sooner.
"I can't go to the match in Bolivia. I have to stay," she said.
"Why's that?" Martin asked at this seemingly out-of-the-blue statement.
"It's twelve thousand feet above sea level. High altitude and pregnant women don't mix, Martin."
"Ah, right," he responded, now understanding. "That'll be a first, you missing a match."
"And hopefully the only time. Those kids will live without me being there anyway. Since we're already on the topic, how will travel work for them?"
Martin got an itinerary from the desk.
"The match is on September 29th. The team will leave for it early morning next Thursday on a bus. Over time, they'll acclimate to the higher altitude, which shouldn't make anyone sick or anything, though we'll cover all our bases. The team's tanks will travel by train, like always."
"Good, good, good," Gabrielle remarked. "Hey, you know about that thing with our sponsors?"
"I do indeed."
"We're gonna tell the team about it, yeah?"
"Of course."
"Gotcha...oh, and that other thing too?"
"Yes, though that's really just for Valarie and Ray."
"MmmHmm."
"Well, let's make the announcements now then," Gabrielle stood and made her way toward the door but noticed that Martin was not following. "Uhh, is there a problem?"
Martin gestured toward the two computers in the room.
"We haven't done much work today on the count of me reading that ultrasound summary to you again and again."
"Oh yeah..."
"Let's get some stuff done before we make those announcements."
The team's meeting was in full swing. People were working on their machines and carrying out other duties. The mood in the garage wasn't as serious as it was yesterday, though normalcy has not yet returned. Members of the team still felt a bit on edge, more so for those closer to the T-44. People snuck glances at Valarie to get a feel for her mood, but her neutral expression did not give them the definite answers they were looking for.
The Puma and AMR crews were away from their machines as the moment they stepped foot in the garage, Valarie marched toward them and explained one of their punishments in greater detail. It dawned on her that expecting only five people to effectively maintain all sixteen tanks on the team per day wasn't entirely realistic. So, she made an adjustment to that particular punishment. For the Puma and AMR crews, each time the team met in the garage, they would be assigned three tanks for them to maintain, in addition to their own vehicles to tend to. For today, the now-defunct Manhattan Project was responsible for the welfare of the Super Pershing, VK, and SU-100. The crews for these vehicles were ordered not to interfere and to use their newly found free-time to study the map of the battlefield.
For Ray, he has been waiting for the meeting all day. Once he finished a maintenance task for the IS-3, he took a breath and walked toward the direction of the T-44. His movements were noticed by members of the team that he walked by. They stopped what they were doing and looked at him, wondering what force on earth has compelled him to go in that direction.
When he neared the T-44, he first saw Emma, who flashed him a smile, a sign to him that Valarie was, at the very least, approachable. He had his hands behind his back as he took more steps forward. Ray didn't need to say anything as Valarie soon emerged from the turret as she had seen him approach from her periscope. She hopped down.
"Hey Ray," she said to him. There was a friendliness in her voice, and he was relieved to hear it. "What's up?"
"I wanted to talk to you about something," he replied. "Privately."
Valarie looked at him for a moment before motioning to him to follow. She led him to an area of the garage far out of earshot of everyone.
"What's on your mind?"
"It's about yesterday."
"I figured..."
"I'll be upfront with you. I don't like that I wasn't informed about the Puma and AMR crew's actions and that I wasn't even consulted for their punishments. I'm the vice-captain, right?"
"Of course you are," Valarie said. Now she had her own hands behind her back. "You're still the second-in-command here."
"Then why was I kept in the dark?"
Valarie sighed as she gazed toward the floor, her eyes darting around in their sockets in thought.
"I don't have a good excuse, Ray. I'm sorry."
"Huh?"
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "When I first found out about that they did, I was overcome with fury. I couldn't believe they have actually gone out and done that, but the proof was in my hands. My thoughts were dominated by them and their punishments. But then again...it's a part of who I am. Wanting to solve all problems by myself, like my parents."
Ray half-expected their conversation to be tense, so Valarie's apology threw him for a loop.
"Oh. Well. Hmm. Apology accepted."
"It won't happen again, I promise you that."
"Considering what people saw yesterday, I think so too."
"I hated what I had to do, but it was necessary. What is a team without discipline? That's something I don't want to know."
"Neither do I."
The two would've liked to continue talking, but a sharp whistle pierced the air that compelled them to turn toward the source. Gabrielle stood in the middle of the garage with a whistle in her mouth, her hands gesturing for people to come to her. In near unison, people stopped what they were doing and made their way to their instructor. To make sure everyone can hear her, Gabrielle climbed on the M5 Stuart, being incredibly careful as she did not want to fall.
"Alright, guys," she said with a clap. "We've got some news regarding our finances. Nothing terrible, so don't freak out on me. Things are actually pretty damn good! First, our success so far in the internationals has spurred the State of California to send more grants our way. That, combined with a generous benefactor," she glanced at Valarie with a grin. "Means that this team won't really have to worry about affording things. This brings me to my next point; the sponsor patches on your uniforms. We don't need sponsors anymore, and our contract with them expired and won't be renewed. Now, when these patches are removed, that'll leave an empty space on your guys' left shoulder. An area that should be filled with something better. A proper shoulder sleeve insignia."
At this, people got excited. There wasn't any kind of symbol that directly represented the Mojave Rose tankery team, and though people liked the school's logo, they wanted something unique to them.
"I'm calling on the creative types on the team to draw their take on what the team's insignia should be," Gabrielle went on. "Submit your proposals to me, and I'll make a choice. Hopefully, we can get the design finalized, produced, and stitched on before our match later this month. That'll be all, though I want Valarie and Ray to stick around for a hot minute."
The team dispersed and resumed what they were doing previously, with Valarie and Ray remaining where they were, just as they were told. Gabrielle got down from the Stuart and got close to them.
"We got an email the other day that presents you both with an interesting opportunity," she told them. "An American school ship made port here in Chile and is interested in you two visiting their newly-formed tankery team and giving them guidance while they hunt to hire their own instructor."
Both Ray and Valarie looked excited.
"Oooh, that sounds pretty fun," Valarie remarked.
"I'm down," Ray said. "What school?"
"An elementary school from Maryland," Gabrielle answered.
Ray was confused at this.
"Really? I thought school ships were only high schools and colleges."
"That's the norm, not the rule."
"Well...the more you know."
"Elementary schoolers?" Valarie then said. "Who's the oldest on the team?"
"Eleven years old, from the email. And I call you guys kids," Gabrielle chuckled. "If you guys want to do it, then you'll head on over this Sunday. I think it'll be fun."
"We'll do it," Valarie declared. "It'll be nice to have something other than the match to look forward to."
"Great! I'll tell them you're on," Gabrielle said. "They'll be excited for sure. Oh, they also already have a tank. Just one, though."
"Interesting..." Valarie slowly remarked. "A tankery team with only one tank."
"They gotta start somewhere."
With shared nods, the three departed. Valarie returned to her tank to find Emma and Ashley huddled around Heather as she frantically flipped through a notebook. Curious to see what has them all captivated, she went and joined them.
"Guys? What's up?"
"The moment Heather heard 'insignia', she got super excited," Ashley explained.
"Because!" Heather exclaimed with wild fervor. "I actually toyed with the idea of an insignia for the team before and drew a concept! Just gotta find what page I drew it on...which on...come one...Ah! Here!"
Heather presented them all to what she has created. A black-and-white pencil drawing of a bouquet of roses, where all the stems combined into one as it got further down, where it was coiled around a tank shell that exactly looked like the 100mm armor-piercing rounds the T-44 was loaded with. Protruding from the stem were numerous thorns, their sharpness heavily exaggerated, with some of them darkened, implying they were coated with the blood of someone who made the poor choice of disturbing the flowers.
Valarie reached for the notebook and was handed it. She looked at what Heather drew for a few moments in silence before the people around her soon saw that she was nodding. She liked the design. No, she loved it. Add color and some more detail, and it'd be stellar.
"I think we have a winner."
Golden Gate's School Carrier
It was well into the evening, but for a trio of girls, they were still busy with stuff from school. Dakota, Fiona, and Gracie have a project for one of their classes. Though they don't have the most favorable opinion of Golden Gate, with the total lack of anything remotely resembling the humanities, they did have superb equipment in various dedicated labs that can handle any and all projects teachers through at their students. For the girls, they were tasked with making a small and functional wind turbine. The initial steps weren't too challenging. The shell that would house the components was made with a 3D printer the school operated, though went it came to the electrics, it proved to be troublesome.
"Why. Won't. You. WORK!"
Fiona angrily spun the wind turbine as she watched the attached voltmeter, which reported no electric charge.
"Un morceau de merde sans valeur! Génère de l'électricité, bon sang!"
Fiona was French, both in birth and nationality. A girl with black hair and light brown skin, whose mood can go from zero to one thousand in a blink of an eye, be it anger or glee. She was found by a Golden Gate recruiter during an international event in her former school in Bordeaux, with her exceptional grades in calculus and geometry securing her a spot on Golden Gate.
"Fiona," Dakota said. "You know darn well Gracie and I don't speak a lick of French. That outburst better not be laced with profanity."
Dakota was from a farm near a place called Indian Springs. With less than a thousand people, the area wasn't a town in a legal sense. Instead, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, it was a 'concentration of population'. A girl who loves to bring up the Good Book when she feels the situation calls for it. Juliana herself was at a science fair at Dakota's old school. Her exhibit of homemade solar-powered cellphone chargers impressed Juliana that it wasn't long before Dakota moved from her small Texan town to the near-magical city of San Francisco before finally boarding the enormous carrier of Golden Gate.
"Well, those wires are dead," Gracie noted, wafting the fumes away from her. "We'll need some fresh ones."
Gracie hailed from Rhode Island, the smallest state in the Union, which made the fact that she was the tallest of the three rather funny. She was the most analytical of the group, often sitting back as her two friends debate on something, where after a while, she'd swoop in and deliver her take on the matter. She was right more often than the two would like, but they made sure she didn't forget when she made a blunder. A radio telescope she made for a school project that overshadowed everything else made by her former classmates got the eye of a recruiter.
"Aaand we don't have any more wires," Fiona groaned. She looked into the plastic bag they brought and found it empty. "Where's the nearest place to...borrow some wires?"
"How do you 'borrow' a wire?" Dakota asked curiously.
"Ah, well, you see──"
"You can't borrow an electrical wire," Gracie spoke, "But, we passed an electrical engineering class on the way here, and I know the teacher gives wires to those that ask for them."
"Cool," Fiona stood from the table. "I'll fetch enough wires so that we can mess up a dozen times and still be okay."
Fiona departed away from her friends and toward the direction of the mentioned electrical engineering class. She broke sight of them as she walked across a courtyard, the cool evening air feeling splendid on her skin. When she was about to turn the corner for the classroom, voices were heard. She initially paid no mind to them, but she slowed and stopped when she recognized the familiarity in them: two voices, both girls.
"What's your plan again?" asked one of the girls. It was Juliana.
"It's still a work-in-progress, fleshing out all the particulars," answered the other. There was a soft chuckle. "To put it simply, I'm going to break some hearts."
Another laugh was heard, this one from Juliana.
"Oh, I can't wait to get briefed when it's ready for execution."
"You'll love it, that's for sure. Now, what about you? Any progress in your task?"
A groan was heard from Juliana.
"Like you've said, the bitch doesn't have any social media to speak of. I know that she's from Barstow, but that doesn't tell me much."
"Well, maybe when I do my plan, I can help you out. I do have to go onboard Catalina's ship to get it done."
"Names of other people on that team. One of them must have social media for me to scour through."
"You got it."
"I do hope you deliver."
"Hey, if I can sneak in their garage and take photos of their tanks, I think I can manage to get some names."
"Good."
Fiona heard the two walk away in separate directions. She had her back against the wall, the overhang above her encasing her in shadows, as she listened, then saw Juliana walk by without noticing her. Her eyes never left her until the girl rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.
Fiona never trusted Juliana. She had a vibe to her that if it had a taste, it'd be bitter almonds. Fiona had a good idea who she was talking to, but she wasn't entirely confident since she didn't peek around the corner. What she was confident of, though, was some kind of scheme was going on.
A conspiracy.
