"It's fully charged," Alistair says to Edward. He doesn't look up, instead moving quickly between the various devices and prototypes that sit throughout the lab.
"Thanks," Edward says, ignoring Alistair's distracted tone. Followed by Bella, he moves to the ARMS, sitting atop a large magnetic platform. The soft, low, inductive hum disappears as he pushes a nearby switch. Five green LEDs light up across the top of the platform, signaling a full charge.
"You seem much calmer," Bella says. She pulls the ARMS lower assembly off the black square and positions it so that it stands on its own.
"Good," Edward says, stepping in to the metal frame. He fastens the segmented belt around his waist while Bella closes the system around his legs. "I need to seem calm."
"You're not?" There's no surprise or disappointment.
"I'm confident." Edward slides the ARMS' upper portion over his head, trying to let the activity distract the weight in his chest. Nervousness continues to fill every bit of his body. It's just less gripping now. "I guess that's the best I can hope for."
Bella smiles to herself as she connects the ARMS' spine to the legs.
"That's all we need," she says. Contemplatively, she sits on a nearby table. The gentle sound of scuffing accompanies her swinging feet as they graze the floor. With her hands gripping the edge, she scans the room before letting her eyes fall on Edward.
He can't fight the pride that comes with the ways she looks at him.
"Thank you," he says, half surprised at his own words.
"For what?"
"I don't know," he says. He flushes, taking a moment to compose himself by leaning against the ARMS' charging platform. His arrival suddenly feels like an eternity ago. "For your patience. Convincing me to stay. I had no idea what to expect. Just another job."
"Shut up, Edward," Bella says, playfully.
"I just..." he stops himself, biting his lip. The thing that he liked about the Army was how lonely it could be. The camaraderie, the friendships, all carry the inevitable end of departure. Through death or simply leaving, every person Edward met as a soldier would soon no longer be a part of his life. It was the tragic truth he clung to ever since his parents died. Now, looking at Bella, thinking of the team...
"I'm just really glad I'm here," he finally says.
Her lips tighten in an embarrassed smile. The image of the nuclear tower thrust in to her mind. Of all the leader's she's had, Edward reminds her most of herself. Of the human she was before the Philippines. The urge to express her own gratitude builds. Gratitude for his strength, his presence, for making her feel human. For being her friend. But, now is not the time for eleventh-hour sentimentality.
"I'm glad you're here, too." It's all she can say, and it makes her chest clench. "Clear Water is excited to meet you."
You told him about me?" he says, his surprise at the information overshadows the sudden change in topic.
"Didn't have to," she teases. "He already knew about you."
"Really?"
"The yunwi, jogahoh, nirumbee, all the native little people, they all talk," she says, flippantly. "And it doesn't matter how secure a place is, they'll get in and find the secrets."
"I remember that," Edward says, a flash of recognition on his face. The fact isn't new, just momentarily lost in the mass of information from the library. "I'm just a bit surprised they would care."
"They like to know everything."
"Carlisle must hate that," Edward says, grinning at the idea of a network of miniature spies knowing so much about Lilim.
"He's never mentioned it," she says. "But secrecy is their currency, and they need our protection. So, it all works out."
A sudden tremor runs just under Bella's skin and her eyes furrow.
"Hmmm?" Edward asks.
"It's almost sundown," Bella says, instinctively turning her head to find a clock.
Damn, Edward thinks. The conversation had been a comfortable escape from reality. It's ending far too soon. "I need to finish getting ready."
"Yeah," Bella says, hopping off the table. There's still too much to do.
Their eyes meet and for a moment there is nothing but each other. The lab fades to dull blur, the mission a distant inkling. A surge erases all stress, fear, nerves from them both as they have each other in isolated understanding. Hearts synch.
"I'll meet you in the Pen," Bella says, breaking the moment in resignation.
"Sure thing," Edward slowly follows her out of the lab before Alistair's mutterings catch his attention. His stomach sinks as duty screams in his mind. "Alistair. I have a question."
The haggard-looking scientist's head jerks up from his tablet in surprise, as if he forgot Edward was there.
"Yessir," he says, nervously.
"Relax." Edward walks around the table. The unpowered ARMS make his movement stiff. The sound of Bella exiting echoes through the lab, making Edward sigh. He holds his hands out at his side, displaying the metal strapped to his body. "Is there somewhere to put the Kill Switch on this thing?"
"Bella didn't show you?" Alistair asks.
"I'd rather not ask my team to help with that." Edward's eyes darken in the necessity to explain himself. The reason should be obvious despite Alistair's meekness.
"Right." Alistair sets his tablet down and grabs on to Edward's right forearm. He runs his fingers down the metal briefly before pressing a small indentation about four inches long and an inch wide. A chamber opens, revealing four angled sockets. "They plug in to there. One press to activate. A second to confirm."
"One for each team member?"
"Yessir," Alistair says, releasing Edward's arm and cautiously returning to his work.
Edward stares at the row of holes, their size surprising and unnerving. He had never opened the Kill Switch box. He had never wanted to. He pictured a big red button. The fact that the lives of his team could end with two diminutive presses leaves him chilled.
"Thanks," he says out of politeness. He closes the chamber with a snap and leaves the lab. His mind floods, pulses, with each step down the hall. What exactly are we up against? Am I prepared? Past the conference room. Will the team listen to me? Past the library.
The locker room is empty when he enters. Appreciative, he sighs. His eyes and neck ache with thought. He sits in front of his locker, the ARMS pressing hard in to his skin.
He thinks back to the night he arrived, the weirdness that scared him. It's routine now. Everyday one of wonder and discovery about beings he never knew. The surprise dulled. His purpose though, what he was actually selected for, now seems to weigh his body down from the inside.
Opening the locker door, he stares at his loaded assault pack. Laboriously, he pulls it out and lets it fall to the floor. The plainly constructed Kill Switch box sits alone in the bottom of his locker. Placed there after the birthday party, forgotten during planning, the cursed responsibility that honor dares him to ignore waits dispassionately. It feels like hours, staring at the deep wood grain hiding four small buttons that would eliminate his team. HIS team.
"Edward," Alice says through the radio, "The team is ready."
Them. He thought they would just be other soldiers to lead, get to know, and forget about. But they're not. They're living marvels. A slice of mystery that he gets to experience daily. Not just marvels. People. People who live in secrecy. Isolation. But people. And they trust him. He cares for them. And he can't let anything happen to them.
The Kill Switch remains unopened, sitting in the bottom of his closed locker, as he heads in to the Pen.