Chrysalis Corporation

by T. A. Venedicktov

  “It is not my intended function to think beyond what I was created to do. The circumstances in which I have been required to do so have led to several unfortunate events.” Requiem looked at Damion from the corner of his eye. “I am merely to perform as I was ordered to do by the Corporation.”

  “I guess you’re right, sort of.” Damion had a look that meant he didn’t like Requiem’s answer, but he also didn’t argue about it at the moment.

  “Juni.” An older man’s voice boomed over the low murmur of the temple.

  Requiem found the man who had spoken. He had salt-and-pepper hair, with warm but tired eyes. It was apparent by the hard lines of age and the swelling in his knuckles that he had spent a lifetime in service to the temple and to Ares, but he still had a regal bearing, the red-and-gold robes around him clean, although ragged around the ends.

  “Hello, Hisano.” Juni laughed. “I brought friends.”

  “I see that.” Hisano looked over at Damion first, then at the Cores. “Are you going to introduce us?”

  “This is one of the men in my Alpha fleet, Damion Hawk, and his Core, 47. And this is my Core, 108,” Juni announced proudly. “I wanted to show them around.”

  People in the temple were curious why this man’s attention was focused on them. He had a red sash around his neck with a ram embroidered at the ends. Requiem lowered his head even more and stepped behind Damion. Both moves were not just out of respect to an Elder of the community and temple, but also to keep himself from the gaze of the man and to prevent offending him.

  “I have heard of the Cores, but to be honest, this is my first time seeing one up close.” Hisano still had a small smile.

  “They’re not like the vids and rumors make them sound.” Juni looked fondly over at 108. “Though they don’t socialize very well.”

  “Your temple is wonderful.” Damion changed the topic. “It reminds me of mine back home on Mars. I’ll admit to not going to a full service in years. I don’t make it a priority to visit the one on ship either. Maybe I need to fix that.”

  “Ah, I knew you didn’t look like a local-born,” the Priest said but not in judgment. “Are you taking care of our little Juni?”

  “Little!” Juni sputtered.

  Requiem took a chance and lifted his gaze, looking around Damion’s shoulder at the older man. It was obvious that Hisano had seen many harrowing years. The man would be in charge of all of the temple upkeep and would probably also work at his own trade to supplement what the temple failed to gather in donations. Requiem estimated him to be in his early forties, but a hard life had him looking a rough sixty. In a time when a regular citizen’s life span had extended to nearly 120, and maybe even longer, it was interesting to see. Long life was obviously only for those who held more influence, not for those who worked harder for a living.

  Damion shrugged and laughed. “He’s a handful and a bit clumsy day to day, but he’s someone I trust with my life inside a Zodiac. He wouldn’t have made it to the Alphas if that wasn’t true.”

  “Thanks, I think.” Juni grumbled. “108 still likes me even if you all abandon me.”

  “Core 108 is bonded to you. Even if he did not have a personal attachment to you, he could not help but to agree with you,” Requiem said softly before he really thought about the consequences—something very unlike him.

  “Thanks!” Juni’s frown deepened and his face fell slightly. “Then I truly am alone.”

  “Stop pouting.” The priest reached out and gave the top of Juni’s head a light smack. “You have many friends. You’re someone people have a hard time disliking.”

  “That’s true.” Damion laughed warmly, patting Juni’s shoulder. “You are rather popular.”

  Realizing that he had said something to upset Juni, Requiem bowed his head once again, slipping back behind Damion. 108, on the other hand, was looking at Juni, emotion in his eyes as he squeezed Juni’s hand in a way that could only mean comfort.

  “Does this one not speak?” The Priest looked at 108. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Why don’t you all sit and visit with others for a short time?”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Juni’s spirits suddenly seemed to turn upward.

  “There is always work that can be done.” Hisano chuckled and began to walk away with just a pat to Juni’s shoulder.

  “Now what?” Damion asked, looking back at the small but well-cared-for altar.

  “I usually walk around and talk and see if there is anything I can do to help, but you don’t have to.” Juni looked at 108. “Neither do you.”

  “I will stay with you,” 108 said softly, never one for many words.

  Requiem moved up so that he was standing next to Damion, his gaze discreetly following Hisano’s form. “If Damion wishes to help, I will stay.”

  “Couldn’t hurt to stay around and help a few people. Might be an old lady or three we can carry something for.” Damion grinned and followed Juni into the crowd.

  Requiem looped a finger through a belt loop on the back of Damion’s jeans, letting Damion pull him forward so that he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. He didn’t particularly know what he and 108 could do to help, but if Damion asked, he would do anything he could.

  Juni sat and began talking. The man could talk to a wall or any stranger. That was one part of him that Requiem found surprising and odd. Before Damion could get far in his conversation with an elderly woman, Juni had sold out their services to help two couples by stopping by in the next few days and mending broken farming equipment. Damion admitted he had no clue how to fix the farming equipment, but the farmers had manuals, and the Fighters had Cores who were able to read the booklets efficiently.

  Requiem had swiftly taken a manual from Damion’s limp fingers. Damion had admitted being a bit lost by the technical jargon it contained. Requiem and 108 quickly flipped through it, talking quietly to each other about the “mysteries” it contained.

  108 gave a slight frown, looking at Requiem and shaking his head.

  Requiem replied with a nod before looking up at Damion through his bangs. “This will not take long. Definitely not the two days Fighter Juni supplied as a time frame. I will be able to repair the more intricate damaged equipment, while 108 can repair the exterior. I theorize that it will only take about three hours if the descriptions of the problems they are having are correct.”

  “Three hours?” Juni’s jaw hung open

  Damion scratched the back of his head. “I guess it’s worth some fresh fruit, then.”

  “If they approve, I can also administer some improvements that will increase their speed, and therefore their revenue, by approximately 20 percent,” Requiem added with a look to 108, who nodded.

  Damion laughed as he looked at them. “And you said you wouldn’t be able to help.”

  Requiem blinked up at him. “We are not helping, merely doing what we were created to do in a minimal capacity.”

  “You’re helping.” Damion ruffled Requiem’s hair affectionately, his smile warm. “I’m proud of you.”

  Juni smiled at 108, waggling his eyebrows. “You want to try some of that ice cream I talked about the other night?”

  “Sweet cold item?” 108 questioned.

  Requiem sighed under Damion’s warm hand. More than likely he would do anything for the warmth of that hand. “When would they like us to begin the repairs?”

  “I have their location. We’ll show up after breakfast tomorrow. Doing good work will help bring us favor with the gods.” Juni stood up. “I’m going to tell Hisano we’re leaving.”

  “You want ice cream?” Damion asked Requiem.

  “What is ice cream?”

  108 looked over at him. “Juni says it is something sweet.”

  Requiem turned back to Damion, looking down sheepishly. “You did claim that you would let me try different types of treats while we were here.”

  “If Juni’s buying, you should ask for some.” Damion grinned. “It’s a bit expensive out here and be
tter quality.”

  Requiem looked up at him for a moment and then lowered his head again, shaking it before changing the subject. “When we go to help the farmers tomorrow, we are going to have to bring some medical supplies with us for precautionary reasons.”

  “Precaution? What are you going to do? Set me on fire?” Damion looked worried.

  Requiem gave Damion a look on the brink of being sarcastic. “I believe that you came to terms months ago with the fact that I was not going to terminate you. Why would I change my mind now?” he said in his normal monotone, but he hoped Damion caught a hint of the “dumbass” he had implied.

  “Ha-ha.” Damion laughed nervously. “Right.”

  “You slackers ready?” Juni came up with a smile. “What’s so funny?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Requiem replied. “Other than, after everything, my Fighter still apparently believes that I am going to attempt to terminate him one day.” Requiem started walking through the crowd toward the temple doors, weaving through the mass of people like a river around rocks, effectively leaving Damion behind. He heard Juni’s astonished comment.

  “I think he just dissed you and walked out.” Juni’s voice was shocked.

  “I noticed,” Damion grumbled, but Requiem heard him following.

  Requiem had known that Damion would follow him. They always went hand in hand even if, as then, Requiem didn’t want them to. But that didn’t mean Requiem should stop walking. He just could not conceive why Damion would have said that unless he still believed that Requiem would terminate his life one day. It seemed that the trust Requiem felt did not go both ways.

  “Requiem, hold up!” Damion caught Requiem’s wrist. “Please. What has you so mad?”

  Requiem didn’t turn around to look at him, merely continued to walk until Damion’s grip made him come up short. “I am not mad, nor can I be. I have merely been enlightened and found it distasteful and against what I had believed to be true.”

  “Could you talk in a way that doesn’t make my head hurt for a moment? I was joking. You know, sarcasm?” Damion tried to look him in the eye.

  Requiem refused to oblige, keeping his gaze straight ahead and away from Damion’s. “Fighter, you were not joking. You were nervous, worried, and slightly alarmed when I suggested bringing medical supplies. I meant for me. While it may seem that my eyes are always on the ground, my attention is not.”

  Now he looked at Damion, his eyes and features blank. “I informed you at one time that there was an extremely slim chance that I would ever kill you, and since then, very quickly, it became no chance. But you seem to have not come to that same conclusion, nor apparently do you remember saying at one point that if the Commander gave you orders to terminate me, you would do so. I had theorized that now, even if the Commander ordered you, you would not terminate me. Your recent reaction has caused me to rethink where I placed my trust.”

  “Terminate you!” Damion’s face reddened with anger. “What goes on in that head of yours is beyond my comprehension. I said what I did because I was worried about being accidentally maimed by one of Juni’s ideas, and then you take it to heart and subsequently imagine me murdering you in your sleep.”

  “At this point, it has nothing to do with that fact. Your reaction to my asking that specific question was merely the catalyst that brought us to our current predicament,” Requiem replied calmly, the only way he ever replied, or spoke, or communicated. Even with Damion’s fury staring him directly in the face, he didn’t back away. Nor did he attempt to futilely twist his arm out of Damion’s grip. He met Damion’s gaze without flinching. “And affirmative—terminate. You claimed at one point in time that if the Commander ordered you to kill me, and only then, would you do so. And no, you will more than likely never understand what goes on in my mind, just as I will never understand what goes on in yours. What it comes to is that you do not trust me.”

  “I trust you with my life.” Damion’s voice held equal parts fury and hurt.

  “Then why were you nervous? Why did you react the way that you did, even if you proclaim it was in jest? You even asked if I was going to set you on fire.” Requiem shook his head, finally lowering it. “Do not answer that. It is not important.” He looked up, but again turned his gaze away from Damion, down to the grimy sidewalk. “If you do not mind, please let me go.”

  Damion let go of Requiem’s wrist, but he didn’t look happy. Requiem noticed Juni and 108 watching from near the temple entrance. Juni had a shaky smile as he looked from Damion to Requiem and then back again.

  Juni cleared his throat before waving. “Time to go.”

  Requiem continued on his walk to the speeder in silence, waiting outside the hatch for Juni to unlock it, and then sliding in. He immediately diverted his attention out the window, his hands in his lap, his face blank.

  “Ice cream?” Juni offered.

  “Yes,” 108 said softly.

  “I am interested. It sounds intriguing,” Requiem agreed from the back, still looking out the window.

  “I know the best place. They ship the frozen milk from Earth once a month.” Juni’s voice had its excitement back.

  “Is that what this ice cream is made out of?” Requiem inquired, his tone of tight interest.

  “Well, yes, that and sugar.” Juni sped back toward the more aristocratic part of the city.

  Damion attempted to deflect some of the uncomfortable air in the car. “I cannot believe all the perks you’ve had while growing up here, and you’re still not an asshole. Or at least not a gigantic asshole.”

  “Thanks, thanks for that.” Out of the corner of his eye, Requiem noted that Juni did not pull his gaze from the road while he made a rude gesture with his left hand at Damion.

  Damion shook his head. “You’re welcome. Now, this ice cream stuff. How good is it really?”

  “It’s worth the drive and the price—that much I can guarantee.”

  “Then I think it’s what we all need.” Damion sighed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Friday August 26, 454 MC

  1731 GMT

  Requiem

  THREE DAYS later they arrived back on the Zeus. And for those three days, ever since Requiem had told Damion that he thought Damion didn’t trust him, Requiem had shown no emotion. He had reverted back to the person he had been when they first met. Only answering when a question couldn’t be avoided, keeping his gaze down to everyone, sleeping on the cot in the servant’s room—becoming the typical, mechanical Core. Any time Damion touched him, Requiem moved away as soon as he could.

  Requiem opened the door to their quarters for Damion from behind him and keyed the lock. He moved across the room in silence, placing his small duffel on the floor of the closet before unzipping it and unpacking the clean clothes within.

  Damion looked over at him and sighed. “Happy to be back and able to plug in?”

  “While rudimentary and not completely engaging, I was about to do so to some extent on Lunar with the console and also with the farmers’ machinery,” Requiem replied, circumventing the true question without lying or really answering it.

  “Damn it, can’t you just give me one fucking straight answer?” Damion exploded.

  “What specific answer would you like me to give you?” Requiem replied calmly, finishing with the clothes and collapsing the bag for storage.

  Damion threw his duffel against the back wall and marched the two steps over to Requiem, grabbing him by the shoulders, giving him a hard shake. “A real one, not one that’s fabricated!”

  Requiem’s head snapped back from the force, but he still managed to keep his gaze from meeting Damion’s. “The word fabrication in this scenario means a lie, and I cannot lie to you. Therefore what I said was true.” He focused on the collar of Damion’s shirt. “If you wish to hear something different, please let me know and I will do my best to accommodate you.”

  “I don’t want you to say something just to accommodate me!” Damion gave him another shake. �
��Be your own fucking self! The one that you were before that stupid trip to the temple.”

  Requiem was silent for a few moments, completely still, his gaze unmoving from Damion’s neck. “I do not know who that person is anymore,” he finally replied, this time quietly. “At some point it became unclear. Perhaps it was when I finally met you. Or perhaps it was when I stopped taking the supplements as frequently as I am supposed to. Or even, perhaps, it was when I became unsure of where our trust in one another stood.”

  “I told you I trust you! What do I need to do to convince you of that? Why won’t you believe me?” Damion wrenched Requiem’s chin up.

  Even with his head tilted up, his eyes raised, Requiem refused to meet that dark gaze, no doubt burning with fury and hurt so real that Requiem imagined he could feel the heat on his face. His head hurt, and he was getting a headache. He wanted to believe Damion, wanted to believe in his Fighter, but he had seen his face. A question, so innocent in the presentation, had caused Damion to become suspicious. And that had caused an emotion that Requiem had sense-identified as hurt. Pain, deep in his chest, almost betrayal. It had been too much for him to handle at the time, and now he was merely confused.

  “I do not know,” he finally whispered. He pulled off one glove and then the other—gloves he had worn since they had worked on the farmer’s equipment. Since he had shoved his hands into the wires and made them obey his will—an ability that only he had.

  Finally, he looked into Damion’s eyes for the first time in three days, raising his fingers at the same time. Fingers that were red and blistered, seeping, and in some places bleeding, from where the blisters had popped. They were thin stripes all over his fingers. Angry red lines. “But in the end this is why I inquired about medical supplies, because I knew that this would be the result. Instead you thought, even for a nanosecond, that it was because I would hurt you. That is why.”

  “What the hell?” Damion dropped his grip on Requiem’s chin and took his hands in his to inspect them. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”