Chrysalis Corporation

by T. A. Venedicktov

  Once they reached it, the Core followed Damion out and led him to the right, passing a dozen doors or so until he came to one marked 256. Pulling out his passkey from a chest pocket in his suit, 47 scanned it and the door hissed open. He waited for Damion to enter before following him inside. The entire time the Core was silent, his expression blank, emotionless, cold.

  The room was twice the size of the quarters Damion had shared with Juni until today. It even had a private toilet instead of a communal one for each corridor. Damion tossed the cards and assignment on a small table that had two thick Fighter manuals on it. He saw the full-size bed against the right wall and the recessed closet to the left. Hell, his duffel didn’t hold more than three uniforms and a few odds and ends—there would be plenty of room left over. Room for what, he didn’t fucking know, since he hadn’t planned on any of this.

  Damion couldn’t recognize the last piece of furniture until he stepped closer and inspected it. The odd, egg-shaped bed (if that was what it could be called) was partly recessed in the floor and the back wall. It looked like that was where the Core would plug himself in for any number of reasons that Damion couldn’t begin to fathom.

  The Core. Damion turned back to take in the pale man… kid… computer… whatever he was. Cores were something you heard about as a grunt in the Infantry and saw in flight school from far, far away. They were with their Alpha pilots, a constant silent, yet observant, shadow, and it did not help that the Alphas refused to share many details about their Cores.

  Cores. They fought side by side with the Alpha Fighters to make them faster and better than any other seeded pilot, they obeyed, and they were for the Elite—the rich citizens in the private class. They didn’t kill and they didn’t scheme. Juni had mentioned seeing them on Lunar, but Damion was from Mars, and his colony didn’t have anything as high value as a Core. But now Damion himself had one and was stuck with him.

  “47. Why did you kill those men?” Damion had to know what they had done so he didn’t follow in their footsteps. Or rather, their graves. He didn’t think he was the best—not yet—but damn it all to hell if he was going to just let someone kill him.

  The Core still stood by the closed door, his gaze following Damion as he looked about and explored their quarters. “They were not whom I picked. They were assigned to me and were inferior to the one I had already chosen.”

  “They were still your Fighters. They were human.” Damion crossed his arms. “What did they do to deserve death? Did they harm you? Threaten you?”

  The Core tilted his head to the side briefly, seeming to consider the question. As he did so, it exposed part of his neck and showed stark bruises that wrapped around his windpipe in the shape of fingers.

  “They were not the best. They were not whom I had chosen” was all he finally said. And he said it in a way that meant he deemed the question answered to its conclusion.

  “You’re always like this, aren’t you?” Damion asked. He felt about ready to smack the back of the Core’s head. Perhaps there was a magical restart button back there, along with a “don’t kill my Fighter” button too. “You haven’t even seen me before. Why did you choose me and how?”

  “I found you within the system two years ago. The top of your class, you had test scores above and beyond all your classmates in piloting and weapons. You were required to study two fighting styles, but you studied five. Your reaction time is also above average and beyond what the Corporation has seen in over twenty years. In addition you’ve shown yourself to be superior in battle tactics and leadership in all your simulation flights and in the reports from your days in the Academy. You are the best. I will accept no less.” The Core tilted his head again. “Does that sufficiently answer your question?”

  “You picked me out by my test scores? I think I’m more worried than before.” Damion had other questions, but talking to this… being was stressful. He needed to move around and attempt to work through the whiplash of excitement and fear warring inside him. “I need to get my gear. Shit, I haven’t even been in a frontline pilot simulator since placements. Now I have to get into the real thing in less than ten hours.”

  Damion picked up his new passkey and slipped it into his pocket. “You follow me. Tell me about your first Fighter. I want his name and how many missions you flew with him.”

  As they stepped out of the room and into the corridor, they met a small crowd obviously waiting for them. Alpha Fighters with their Cores surrounded them. Damion was taller than all of them by a good fifteen centimeters, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think they couldn’t kick his ass as a group.

  “One,” said the Fighter who was standing at the head of the group. He had short-cropped hair and a pissed off expression to go with a muscular body that spoke of more brawn than brains.

  “Excuse me?” Damion’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  “The three of them were able to fly once, and they barely made it to the battle before that broken piece of shit killed them,” the Fighter spat. “He should be plugged into a trash compactor and forgotten, not plugged into a Zodiac and bound to an Alpha.”

  Wonderful. It was obvious that the Goddess of Luck, Tyche, was not with him today. First he was promoted and assigned the angel of death as his Core. Now a small mob was ready to kick said angel of death’s ass—and maybe Damion’s as well.

  Dear Mom, life isn’t fucking fair.

  Chapter Two

  Damion

  “THEY WERE not my Fighter,” the Core said, his gaze once again directed toward the floor.

  He had stopped right outside the door, his hands behind his back, leaning casually against the access console for the door to his and Damion’s quarters. “First, Keith Matthew Crow expired due to system malfunction in his air supply. Second, Gabriel Sebastian Luco expired due to unexplainable atmospheric pressure. Third, Riviara Ricardo Morales expired due to being out of his control seat during a sudden burst of acceleration. He was crushed against the bulkhead.”

  The Core relayed these facts quietly to Damion since it was what his Fighter had asked and he was required to do anything his Fighter requested. His words were uncaring as he spouted off the names and how they died as if he were quoting atmospheric conditions instead.

  “They were good fucking Fighters, and you killed them!” the blond shouted, and the crowd behind him stirred. The man, whom Damion identified as Arkin by the name patch on his flight suit, took a few paces forward, shouting, reminiscent of a five-year-old—a very large five-year-old—having a tantrum. “You’re a murderer, and you shouldn’t be allowed near another Fighter!”

  “Look….” Damion wasn’t happy with 47’s answer, as there was a lot of “why” left out of it, but he’d defend his Core if he had to. And as much as he might dislike the fact, the Core was his responsibility now. He kept his gaze on the fuming Arkin, trying to figure out if there was any way to get out of this situation without kicking some ass and ending up disciplined right on the heels of his promotion. “I just found out about him being my Core, and I know he’s killed the others, but you can’t mob him! The Commander obviously wanted him to pick another Fighter and that Fighter is me.”

  Damion refused to hide in his room or run away. As he stepped in front of 47, he didn’t stop Arkin from grabbing the front of his jumpsuit. His gut told him to punch the hothead and get the ass whopping—his, probably—over and done with. It would be easier to get knocked out until tomorrow and have this weird shitass day over with. He instead kept his arms to his sides, palms out to show he was no threat.

  “Like hell we can’t! Are you really worth three of our Alphas?” Arkin spat, and even if he was smaller than Damion, he had the upper-body strength to push him back against 47, effectively pinning the Core against the wall and access panel. “He fucking isn’t, that’s for sure! There are dozens of other Cores out there able to take his place. Best, my ass! Do yourself a favor and get out of our way, rookie, and I won’t send you out the airlock with him.”

&n
bsp; “Listen to Arkin! Just let us deal with the little freak!” another Alpha in the back of the group shouted.

  Damion could see over Arkin’s shoulder that the other Cores had moved to the other end of the hall, not responding to the Fighters threatening 47’s life. These human computers did not even seem to care if another of their kind was threatened.

  “You can’t take this into your own hands! That’s treason!” Damion started some screaming of his own, letting his gaze meet Arkin’s. If he had learned at least one thing while talking with the other pilots, it was that the Cores were items, tools, and property that belonged to the Corporation. While not as bad as murdering a Fighter, you would get a court-martial if you went after the Corporation’s expensive human computer property. “If the Commander, for some reason, wants me to make his death look like an accident, fine, I’ll do it, but only under direct orders from him. You can’t act like a group of dirty rebels.”

  “Big talk from the little murderer’s chosen best.” Arkin spat the last word out in complete disdain.

  47’s monotone voice emerged from behind Damion. “For two thousand credits, three years before he joined the Chrysalis Corporation, Fighter Crow left a girl carrying his unborn child in the hands of organ farmers. Fighter Luco participated in illegal drug trafficking, resulting in seventeen overdoses, including a thirteen-year-old girl’s. Fighter Morales killed four Cores prior to joining the Corporation but was never convicted because the Justices could not locate all the body parts and no witnesses were willing to come forward. Passable pilots, unacceptable people.”

  Damion had a feeling 47 had turned his gaze to him. “Shall I continue by communicating the history of the Alpha Fighters present or inform them that Security will be here in 1.49 minutes?”

  Arkin growled at the Core. “You little bitch.”

  “I think you’re upset that he outsmarted you.” Damion smirked out of habit, not out of any form of happiness, since he doubted this would be the last they heard from Arkin and his cronies. “But if you don’t leave willingly, I’m sure the Commander will gladly arrest you.”

  “Fifty-nine seconds,” 47 stated. “The security team will arrive first. They are armed for an assault.”

  “Fuck you.” Arkin released Damion’s jumpsuit with a push. As he and the rest of the pack retreated down the corridor, Arkin called back, “Just wait. He’ll kill you next.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Damion kept his smirk as they marched away, making a hasty retreat.

  As soon as they were out of sight, 47 turned back toward the panel, letting a cord slip out of his hand. After a few seconds, it retracted and the panel closed completely.

  “Order canceled,” he reported to Damion before turning back to him, raising his gaze. “There is a 99.9 percent chance that I will not kill you. You are my chosen Fighter. It would be illogical.”

  “Thanks.” Damion wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or not. However, in the long run, it was better than the odd little Core saying he would kill him. “People try and kick your ass often?”

  “I have my ways of avoiding them.” 47 motioned toward the console he had used, and a hint of what might have been a frown crossed his brow. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “This time I was… preoccupied. I apologize for the confrontation. It will not happen again.”

  “Not your fault, I guess.” Damion didn’t know what was going on, but if his fellow Fighters had it out for him, it was going to be hell keeping them both alive. “All right, let’s try to get back to Juni again.”

  “If it is any consolation, they would have merely incapacitated you. You were not their target. I was. As soon as you were unconscious, they would have terminated me but would have left you alone.” The Core followed Damion to the elevator. “I have been able to escape them in the past and have suffered minimal damage because of my tactics.”

  The Core paused a moment, waiting for the elevator doors to open. “It would have been more logical for you to let them take me. Why did you not?”

  “I am not saying you don’t need your ass kicked, but they would have killed you. That is something completely different.” Damion sighed, lowering his head and rubbing the back of it, feeling a headache already emerging. “Is all that info you said about those Fighters true?”

  “It is truth, and yes, they would have terminated me, but doing so would not have affected you in any way. In regards to, as you say, getting my ass kicked, they have already done so on a few occasions. It would not make any difference.”

  47 waited for Damion to exit the elevator before he did so.

  “You’re not getting it.” Damion sliced his left hand in the air in front of them. “There is a thin line between breaking the rules and taking justice into your own hands. What happened back there, that was treason.”

  The Core paused his walk so that Damion’s determined hand movement did not hit him. He cocked his head to the side like a bird’s, looking like he was trying to understand.

  “I apologize, but I still do not comprehend. It is logical to assume no one would care if I were terminated. And since you are the one that would benefit the most were that to happen, I do not understand why you would care.”

  “How would I benefit?” Damion asked, walking forward again.

  “Your survival would be secure. Not that I plan to terminate you, of course.” 47 followed. “The other Fighters would cease to antagonize you because of my existence.”

  “I also would lose my chance at being an Alpha Fighter and piloting a Zodiac-class ship.” Damion shrugged and let his mind wander back to the fact that he had just been promoted to an Alpha Fighter at the whim of a walking machine. “I don’t think I’m the best, but I think I can prove myself.”

  “You are the best. I will only bond with the best,” 47 stated as they came upon Damion’s previous quarters. “I have modified the Ares Zodiac since I was placed here. It was designed around specifications that will only match with you. Your reaction time and abilities were factored into the modifications and therefore only you can fly it.”

  “Only me?” Damion asked in surprise. He now had to make certain his performance in the new craft never dropped or he could possibly be 47’s next victim.

  “Because of that, you would not lose your Alpha station. You would be quickly chosen by another Core, but many modifications would have to be made to allow that Core the ability to sync with the Ares. Port plug-ins would have to be removed, and the computer reconfigured. It is the Core’s responsibility to make your commands to the Zodiac flawless as well as predict what you will need during battle and modify the Zodiac accordingly. But the Zodiac is yours. Only you can fly it. I denied requests from my former Fighters to reconfigure the Ares to fit them.”

  “Thanks. I think.” Damion would have to decipher this new information later.

  Damion opened the door to his now old Beta quarters. As he expected, Juni was in the room, watching vids instead of being in the gym where he should have been.

  As soon as Juni noticed Damion, he shut the vid off, turning to look at his roommate. “Hey, what happened—oh! He’s still with you? The Betas woke me up and told me you were whisked off.”

  47’s gaze was once again directed toward the floor. It seemed that the only person he would look up for was Damion. He stayed silent, standing to the right of the door, near the console control.

  “Yeah, he’s my Core. 47,” Damion informed his now former bunkmate.

  “Nice knowing you.”

  “He promises not to kill me.” Damion reached into the tiny closet at the back of the room and pulled out his duffel. “I also start Alpha training tomorrow, and a group of them almost mobbed us.”

  “Juni Saint Mathis will be picked by a Core in the near future and join the Alphas. The chance of it being within the next two weeks is currently at 56.6 percent.”

  “Is he serious?” Juni looked at the Core, then at Damion, his eyes wide in disbelief.

  “He hasn’t lied
to me yet.” Damion scratched his head, looking into the closet before his gaze slid to Juni. “Look, Juni, do me a favor and snoop around about a guy named Arkin. 47 has his reports, but I want to know what other pilots think. Hell, even the maintenance crew if you can find out.”

  “That would be unwise,” 47 piped up, his voice quiet but still monotone, his gaze on the floor. “Arkin’s Core, 92, is inferior to me but still skilled in riding the system. In fact, he is trying to observe us now, but I am holding off his view. Once we leave he will continue to monitor Beta Mathis.”

  “I meant by talking to other people,” Damion explained. “Not through the computer system.”

  “They really have no clue about human contact.” Juni sounded more interested and amazed than frightened by 47 and his information. Damion had to remind himself it was because Juni was Lunar-born and had seen Cores from time to time at his homestead. Also, Juni didn’t have the good sense of when to be scared that most humans had.

  “I did not mean through the system. There are cameras everywhere, through which 92 can observe anything at Arkin’s order, as well as the Cores who were in the hallway with us previously.”

  “Okay, that’s just creepy.” Juni gave an uneasy chuckle. “Don’t like to think someone is watching me jack off in the middle of my shower.”

  Damion shook his head, ignoring his friend’s crass words because he had heard much worse in training and in the mines on Mars. “It’s better to know your enemy than not. I think this whole day went from normal, to weird, to great, and suddenly turned really shitty.”

  “If you order it, I can block 92’s feed,” 47 offered after a few moments of silence. “Beta Mathis would be safe to question others. Tracking persons who are not our Fighter is considered a breech and my block would not be reported as the Fighters would not want to be penalized.”

  “Then why didn’t he just suggest that to begin with?” Juni whispered in Damion’s ear.