Clarity's Edge: Technopaladin, #1

by Elizabeth Corrigan

  “Clarity, can you come during Cass’s tech support hours, between noon and one? You’ll be able to learn the most that way.”

  Ha! thought Cass, seeing Tenacity’s plan. No way she’ll agree to that. The cafeteria didn’t open until noon, and by one o’clock, the pickings were slim for anyone who actually cared about what they ate. Cass had picked that hour intentionally. Not only did the time mean he had the fewest number of support calls, but none of his coworkers could try to convince him to hang out in the cafeteria with a bunch of muscle-headed warriors when he had legitimate work to do.

  Judging by the way Clarity was nodding at Tenacity’s suggestion, though, Cass realized he might have to spend time with one muscle-headed warrior at lunch anyway. “Sure, that works for me,” Clarity said. “My main duties are in the morning.” She offered Cass her second tentative smile of the day, and he responded with a steady glare. Undeterred, Clarity gave a perfunctory nod. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven, then again at noon. I hope to see you in the morning as well, Tenacity.”

  As soon as Clarity had disappeared through the soundproof metal door, Cass wheeled on his boss. “What were you thinking? I can’t have a warrior hanging out with me while I do tech support!”

  Tenacity let out the laughter she’d held in since Clarity had first made her suggestion. “Hey, it was your idea.”

  “It was a completely ridiculous idea designed to make her go away, and you know it!”

  Tenacity’s expression did not contain the smallest iota of regret. “I’ve been getting grief from higher-ups about making my people go to physical training. I figure if I can get you to go, no one else can say no. Besides, what are you complaining about? You get to spend your tech support hour with a cute girl.”

  “A cute warrior girl.” He realized what he’d said. “And she’s not cute. And even if she were, she’s dating my brother.”

  Tenacity’s smile didn’t fade. “I’m not suggesting you date her. Wouldn’t it be nice to get to know your potential future sister-in-law?”

  “She’s a warrior,” he repeated. “They all seem nice until they decide to shove your head down a toilet.”

  Tenacity stood up. “Cass, as you were just saying, you’re twenty-one years old. Maybe it’s time to let some of the schoolyard pranks go. All warriors are not the enemy.”

  Cass sniffed. He hadn’t expected Tenacity to understand. “Whatever. Either way, I’m not going to physical training tomorrow, so I doubt she’ll show up for tech support.”

  Tenacity’s grin broadened. “Oh, Cass. I may not be able to tell if she’s the monster you fear she is, but I do know my namesake when I see it. That girl will be here every day until you find a more convincing way than that to get rid of her.”

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, Cass awoke when the lights came to life around him and a voice said, “I take it you didn’t go to training then?”

  Cass shot straight up in his chair and looked around, bleary-eyed. Crap. He had fallen asleep in his office again. He’d been so desperate to get that motorcycle AI repaired that he hadn’t left. He blinked until the chronometer in his ocular implant read “9:06 a.m.” instead of a series of blurs. The last time he’d looked at it, the time had been 3:46, and he’d figured out what changes he needed to make. He sat up straighter and began typing where he’d left off. “I’ll have this done soon, Tenacity. I swear.”

  His boss sighed and walked up to pat him on the shoulder. “You know if you need an extension, you just need to ask for it. You don’t have to stay up all night and sleep here. I know you aren’t slacking.”

  “I’m not working hard enough,” Cass said. “There’s no reason this shouldn’t be done.”

  “Cass, look at me,” Tenacity said. Cass kept typing. He was almost done with the code, and he’d look at her when he finished. “Cass.” She grabbed the back of his chair and turned him around to face her. He made a small cry of protest as his fingers were ripped from the keyboard. “Three analysts tried to fix this bug and failed before I gave it to you. I give you all the hard stuff because I know you’re the best. But you’re not going to be the best if you don’t take care of yourself and get some proper rest.”

  “I’d be fine if you’d let me design an AI to bring me coffee.”

  “If I did that, you’d never leave this chair, and coffee only does so much.” Tenacity rubbed her fingers on the bridge of her nose. “Seriously, get a hobby. Get a friend who is not a robotic cat or owl. Stars, go to physical training. Do something, anything, outside of this office. It’ll make you a better paladin. Work-life balance. It’s a thing.”

  Cass glanced at the photo hovering to the right of his workstation. He’d had friends once. Well, he’d had a friend, his girlfriend Chrissy, aka Charisma Saito, daughter of Brilliance Saito, Council member and head librarian for the paladins. Like Cass, she understood that warriors didn’t deserve all the glory in the order. “Anyone can learn to hold a sword or fire a laser pistol,” she’d said. “Having actual intellect requires a gift you need to be born with.” Unlike Steadfastness, her father had been supportive of her academic pursuits. Cass had considered her house a refuge from his father’s disappointment.

  All that changed when he graduated three years ago. Cass had known Chrissy wanted to be a diplomat and would need to travel to distant lands to do her job, but he’d managed not to worry about that for most of his school years. When she’d been appointed a position as an ambassador to Bellamie, she’d begged him to come with her and be the tech support for the diplomatic team. He’d wanted to stay in the Citadel, where he would have the opportunity to build AIs and develop new technologies for the paladins. In the end, their love had not been strong enough for either of them to sacrifice their career for the other. In his darker moments, Cass wondered if he’d ever loved her at all, or if he’d just loved having someone in his life who preferred him to Valor. Still, he missed her and the bright light their friendship had shone into his life.

  Tenacity followed his gaze and shook her head. “You and Chrissy broke up three years ago. You need to move on. I’m sure she has.”

  Cass wasn’t so sure about that. When Chrissy had visited the Citadel for the order’s annual gala nearly a year ago, she had once again tried to get him to join her team. She’d told him about the beautiful mountains of Bellamie---and the fact that warriors didn’t rule there. She’d made friends there, with her team and with the locals, but she still wanted him to be part of her life. “I’m not discussing Chrissy with you,” he said to Tenacity.

  Tenacity held up her hands, but Cass knew better than to believe she’d given up. She never gave up on anything. “Fine, but no more sleeping in the office. You set your own deadlines, so just let me know if you can’t make them. Don’t kill yourself trying to get things done.” She glanced at the window. “And stop opening your window. You know your owl gets out and makes trouble.”

  Cass swore. Al did have a tendency to fly out the window if he wasn’t watched, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight. With all the machinery in Cass’s lab, though, it tended to get hot if he didn’t get some air circulating. “Well, if you’d let me design a better cooling system…”

  Tenacity rolled her eyes. “Right, your bird’s swooping around harassing people who tick you off is my fault.”

  “Hoo.” The sound came from the window, and Cass saw that Al had returned, a look of smug satisfaction in his glowing blue eyes.

  Cass gave Tenacity an innocent look, and she sighed. “Keep the window closed,” she said. “Or I’ll make you change his programming. And make sure your father finds out about whatever he did this time.” She left the room.

  Al flew over and landed on Cass’s shoulder. “So what did you do this time?” Cass asked. “Is my father going to find out about it?”

  Al blinked, his metallic eyelids clicking against the frame of his face. “Hoo.” />
  “Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it?” Cass shook his head and returned to the motorcycle code. “Just keep your head low for awhile, okay? I like you the way you are.”

  When Clarity awoke that morning, sunlight streamed through her window. She bolted upright in bed. I overslept! How could I have let this happen? She fumbled for the alarm function on her watch, but her eyes took a few minutes to adjust enough to read it. She tumbled out of bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, then grabbed a purple bodysuit out of the closet and put it on as fast as she could. She pressed the button on her chest that activated her armor, and as the cool metal surrounded her, the world felt less terrible for a moment.

  Then she looked in the mirror. She had colloquially said that her hair looked like a bird’s nest on occasion, but never had she thought the phrase might literally apply. She doubted an actual bird could lay eggs in her hair, but it looked as though something had crawled through it and tangled it beyond all reason. She glanced at her watch again, and the random characters that glowed back at her didn’t indicate an actual time. Are those Aurelian symbols? Why is my watch displaying in a language I don’t read? Is it also on Aurelian time? Is that why it didn’t go off?

  She pressed the screen of the watch to change the settings back to Corinthian, but the watch beeped and a soothing, mechanical voice said something in a language Clarity had a sinking suspicion was also Aurelian. The small screen did not unlock.

  “What?” Clarity pressed the screen again with the same results. “Argh. I don’t have time for any of this.” She glanced out the window again. She had probably missed her first training session already and would be late for the second. She was sure to get an earful from Determination, if not immediate reassignment. A quick look in the mirror indicated she had no time to fix her hair, so she stuffed as much of it as she could on top of her head and activated her helm.

  She ran out the door so quickly, she didn’t notice the assortment of glowing wires arrayed on the other side of her threshold until her foot got tangled up in them. She was halfway to the ground when she heard a crack and felt a sudden, throbbing pain in her left ankle.

  Clarity didn’t swear, as a general rule, but some days tested that resolution to the limit.

  “What in the name of the stars happened to you?” Zeal jumped out of her chair and rushed over to help Clarity as she hobbled through the door to the medbay.

  Clarity had disengaged her armor. The swelling had gotten so bad, she couldn’t take the pressure anymore, even if she had to walk barefoot across the Citadel. “I have no idea. My alarm didn’t go off, and I can’t get into my watch. Which meant I had to report to Determination in person, and he gave me a full-fledged reaming out for neglecting my duty. Thankfully, he didn’t reassign me or kick me out of the order, but I’m definitely getting a demerit in my file.”

  “I meant, what happened to your leg?” Zeal came over and supported Clarity as they walked over to a patient bed.

  “Oh. That.” Clarity sat down on the bed, with Zeal’s assistance. “Someone left a pile of wires outside my room, which of course I tripped on. I think the ankle’s broken.” Clarity held her foot up for Zeal to see.

  “You walked all the way from the barracks to the training yards to here on that?” Zeal reached out and probed Clarity’s ankle with a gentle finger, and Clarity tried not to cringe at the pain. “Sometimes I think your name should have been Determination. Or Bull-Headed Stubbornness.”

  “Well, it was taken.” Clarity grunted as Zeal flexed the injured foot. “Determination, that is. I don’t think the Visionary would have picked someone to be a paladin if their name would be Bull-Headed Stubbornness.”

  “Says the girl who tromped around the Citadel on a broken ankle,” Zeal said. “I’d better go get Mercy.”

  At that suggestion, Clarity did grimace. “Do you have to? I don’t know if she knows Valor and I broke up.”

  Zeal put her hands on her hips. “Yes, I need to go get her. Your ankle is a mess, and she’s the head doctor around here. Surely your health is more important than your fear of an awkward conversation.”

  “Nnn.” Clarity’s flat hum indicated she wasn’t sure that was true, but Zeal had already started toward Mercy’s office. “Hey wait a sec.” Zeal stopped but didn’t turn around. “Can you bring me a hairbrush while I’m waiting?” Clarity dropped her helm.

  “What do you need a---?” Zeal broke off when she saw Clarity’s brown bird’s net. “Did the wires do that, too?”

  “I have no idea.” Clarity’s voice sounded tired to her own ears. “Hairbrush. Mercy. Then I can get on with this miserable day.”

  By the time Mercy broke away from whatever she was doing, Clarity had brushed her hair and felt more prepared to deal with her ex’s mother. The middle-aged woman who bustled into the room far more resembled her older son than her younger one. While Valor had inherited Steadfastness’s stocky build, dark hair, and piercing blue eyes, Cass had gotten his slim frame and golden-brown eyes and hair from his mother.

  Any fears Clarity had for awkwardness were unfounded. Mercy gave Clarity a smile and started examining her ankle. “It’s so good to see you, dear,” Mercy said as she repeated the same painful ministrations Zeal had. “I wish it were under better circumstances. I know Valor’s away for a while, but that doesn’t mean you need to wait until you injure yourself to come see me.”

  A pang of guilt lanced through Clarity’s chest. Valor clearly had not told his mother about the breakup, and Mercy thus thought Clarity had been neglectful in not visiting. Steadfastness and Cass had always treated Clarity like a second class citizen, but Mercy had never been anything but loving and sweet. “Thank you. I’ll try to come by more often.” She wouldn’t, but she hated to hurt the doctor’s feelings.

  “Well, your ankle is almost certainly broken,” Mercy said. “Let’s get a read on how badly. Hopefully you won’t need surgery.” She pulled out a scanwand and ran the blue rays it emitted over Clarity’s ankle. A 3D representation of the foot appeared in the air in front of her. Holding the device in place over Clarity’s foot with her right hand, Mercy zoomed in on the image with her left. After a moment, she nodded and turned off the wand. “Well, it’s a pretty bad break, but I don’t think I’ll need to operate. I can get it on its way to recovery, but I’m going to need you to stay off it for at least two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” Clarity’s mind spun at the idea of getting so far behind in her training. She’d lose her position. “But my job…”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll give you a medical excuse.” Mercy seemed calm about the whole thing, as if she had no idea what kind of wrench she’d thrown into Clarity’s life. “Sadly, we still haven’t developed anything more effective than good, old-fashioned crutches for getting around, but you shouldn’t have a problem with them.” She gave Clarity an appraising look. “I know I won’t be able to stop you from doing some work. Warriors make the worst patients. But trust me when I say you’ll get better faster if you follow my instructions.”

  Clarity nodded. She would obey. She didn’t want to be off her ankle for more than two weeks. She put up with another hour of poking and prodding as Mercy set the bone, used the scanwand to knit some of the bones, and put a metal cast on it. “Come back in ten days, and we’ll see how you’re doing,” Mercy said. “In the meantime, since you’re at a bit of a loose end, why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night? The cafeteria food is good enough, but I bet you would love a home-cooked meal.”

  “Thank you so much for the invitation, but---”

  “I won’t take no for an answer!” Mercy said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at 7.”

  Clarity nodded, but inside she was already evaluating how long she would have to wait before calling to cancel. As Clarity headed out the door, Zeal waved her over. “I’ve been thinking,” Zeal whispered. “Cass didn’t want you around, right? And then sudde
nly all your stuff got messed up. Do you think…?”

  Clarity laughed. “I seriously doubt Cass Hughes snuck into my room in the middle of the night and messed up my hair and watch.”

  Zeal pursed her lips. “Right, but he’s got those animal AIs. Maybe one of them did it.”

  Clarity stopped smiling. Her friend had a point. Someone had been in her room last night---someone stealthy and quiet enough not to wake her. “What do you think I should do? Should I confront him?”

  Zeal lifted a shoulder. “That’s up to you, but I’d leave my window closed from now on if I were you.”

  Cass leaned back in his chair and sighed in relief. Five minutes after noon and no sign of the warrior. She seemed the punctual sort, so Cass felt safe assuming she wasn’t going to show up. Looks like Tenacity was wrong. I can’t wait to tell her. He grinned to himself.

  The door whooshed open, and the smile fell from Cass’s face as he sat up straight in his chair. People who showed up to tech support in person usually wanted to yell at someone, and he hated being a warrior’s verbal punching bag almost as much as being a physical one. To his surprise, though, Clarity hobbled her way into the room on crutches.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, surprised at the concern in his own voice, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t a monster. He was capable of feeling empathy for a fellow creature in pain, even if she was a stuck-up warrior girl with poor taste in men.

  She gave him a level, unreadable look for so long that he started to feel uncomfortable. Then she shrugged. “I tripped. Sorry I’m late. I got held up in medbay.” She maneuvered behind the table and took the seat next to his. “Though I should tell you, I’m not just here to help. I need you to fix this.” She dangled her watch in front of him. “It started displaying everything in Aurelian and won’t read my fingerprint.”

  His breath caught. Crap. He knew those tricks. Apparently he needed to have a conversation with Al.