Tempus Regit

by Edmund Hughes

  “Not bad,” said Ada. “Why don’t you-”

  Within the armor skin, Archer was grinning. He threw a quick combo at the dummy, a jab, a stomach punch, and then a sweeping elbow to the chin. It was one that he’d used many times before in fights, and when he got the movements right, it would often be enough to drop an opponent before they even knew what was happening.

  He spun toward a second dummy, feigning a punch before at the last minute stepping back into a spinning whirlwind kick. The force of that would easily have tipped the dummy over if it hadn’t been firmly secured to the ground.

  “Good, Archer,” said Ada. “Really good. Your form is a little unrefined, but you have the right idea. Who taught you how to fight?”

  “I’m self-taught,” he said. “I did get a few lessons from an old man who hired me to guard his backyard garden for a couple of months.”

  He was growing coca leaves and cannabis, if I remember correctly.

  “It will give you a good base to start from,” said Ada. “We’re still getting information from your connection resonance to the skin. Spend a few minutes practicing on the dummies.”

  “Got it.”

  Archer danced and weaved, practicing his full repertoire of punches and kicks. It felt good to be moving and fighting, especially because for once, it wasn’t over food, or the open coins in his pocket, or some other reason born of deep poverty.

  Of course, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before he’d be sent outside the city now that he’d proven that he could actually wear the suit. He would be fighting fabricants, the real live boogeymen. Hulking, intelligent monsters made of metal that served a still unknown purpose. They scoured the wastelands and killed anyone they found alive. The stakes would be higher for Archer than they ever were in the coal district.

  He turned, leaping in the air to deliver a hard, flying crescent kick to the head of the last dummy. His foot connected with so much force that he was sure that the thing would split in two, but of course, it was designed to take abuse from the Metal Knights.

  Is that what I am now? A Metal Knight…?

  The sound of slow clapping came from behind Archer. He turned around, startled by the sudden appearance of someone else on the training grounds. What he saw sent a wave of hot confusion and cold despair flooding through him.

  Trevor, his dead brother, stood leaning with arms crossed next to one of the training dummies. He wore jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt, similar to the one he’d had on the last time Archer had seen him in person. He was smiling, and his cool blue eyes took in the sight of Archer in the armor skin with detached amusement.

  “Not bad, little brother,” he said. “You’ve gotten better since the last time we fought.”

  “…Trevor,” said Archer. “What…?”

  “Archer?” Ada’s voice was immediate in his ear. “What was that?”

  Trevor looked at him like he was an idiot and brought a finger to his lips.

  “The mute button for the com system is to the left of the power switch in your left palm,” he said. “Press it to toggle your mic on or off.”

  Archer pressed the button, and saw an icon in the bottom of his view screen disappear.

  “Trevor…” said Archer. “How is this possible? They said you were-”

  “Dead?” asked Trevor. “Yes, I am. Very much so. But… there are secrets to the armor skins. Secrets that nobody has discovered yet. I’m not alive, but I am still here.”

  He pointed to Archer’s chest, to the chest of the armor skin, as he said the last word. Archer stared at the ghost of his brother, unable to find any words to push through his stunned disbelief.

  “I’m impressed that Ada thought to use you to replace me,” said Trevor. “It was her, wasn’t it? I assume the Overseer likes me too much to have done anything so proactive in the aftermath of my loss.”

  Archer was dimly aware of Ada saying something to him over the speaker. He started walking toward the next section of the training area, hoping that whatever he was seeing and hearing would fade as he moved away from it.

  “I can tell this is shaking you up, Archer, so I’ll make my point quickly,” said Trevor. “I’m here, and it’s a miracle, and you need me.”

  “I don’t need you, Trevor,” muttered Archer. “And I haven’t for a long time. Almost a decade. You’re nobody to me now.”

  “Oh, that’s not true, and we both know it,” said Trevor. “Archer, all of your weaknesses are things that I was strong at. There’s a reason why I was a Metal Knight, living a life of luxury, and you were in the coal district.”

  “Because you were a monster, Trevor,” he hissed. “That’s the only reason.”

  “I’m trying to help you, little brother,” said Trevor. “And you’re going to need all the help you can get. Because you aren’t good enough to replace me. Your heart is in the right place, but you’re not strong like I was, Archer. We both know it.”

  “No,” he said. “This is a hallucination. Too much has happened to me over the past few days, and I haven’t gotten enough sleep. That’s all.”

  Trevor laughed, and the sound brought back a swath of memories that almost overwhelmed Archer.

  “If this is a hallucination, then how did I know where the mute button was in your armor skin?” asked Trevor. “Ada didn’t explain that to you yet, did she?”

  Trevor grinned at him. Archer couldn’t meet his brother’s eye. His emotions raged in his chest, threatening to roll back time and turn him back into the scared little smog who’d struggled to get by.

  Ada was saying something over the speaker, and from deeper within the training area, Archer heard metallic footsteps in the distance. He looked up just in time to see another Metal Knight approaching, wearing a pink and white armor skin with vaguely feminine proportions.

  Archer glanced over at Trevor and was surprised by the look of shocked, bewildered horror on his face. It was a little satisfying to see him caught so far off guard after all of the taunting, but Archer didn’t get more than a second or two to enjoy the moment.

  “Trevor!” shouted a voice, carried through the speaker.

  “No, it’s, uh…” Archer started to reply, before realizing that his mic was still muted. He fumbled with the switch, but the female Metal Knight had already thrown her arms open, pulling him into a tight, armor skin to armor skin embrace.

  He could still see Trevor in the corner of his eye, staring at him as the girl hugged him. There was something on his face that went beyond surprise, into the realm of frustration and jealousy.

  I don’t understand any of this…

  Archer finally managed to hit the mute switch and turn his mic back on. He carefully extricated himself from the female Metal Knight’s arms and held his hands up, as though apologizing. He started to think of how to explain and then decided that there was a better way to clear the situation up.

  He flicked both of the power switches in the palm of his armor skin and felt the back slide open as the helmet pivoted up and off. Archer stepped out of it and stood on the ground and waited.

  The pink Metal Knight stared at him, and then did the same thing, turning her armor skin off and stepping out of it. She was in her early twenties, and had auburn red hair and vibrant green eyes, the color of new grass in the spring.

  She wore an undersuit similar to Archer’s own, except it was maroon in color, and clung to the curves of her body in a manner that made him acutely aware of her midsized breasts and muscular buttocks.

  She was staring at him, her expression a mixture of raw surprise and anger, not unlike the way Trevor had looked a moment earlier. Archer’s brother was now nowhere in sight. He glanced around to make sure and the girl approached as he did.

  Her slap caught him completely off guard. The girl put enough strength into it to knock Archer off balance. He staggered backwards, holding one hand against his stinging cheek and stared at her, his mouth open in surprise.

  “Him?” shouted the girl. “You
put him in Trevor’s armor skin?”

  “Vivian,” said Ada, through an intercom in the roof. “Stand down. I understand what you’re probably feeling, but this does not involve you.”

  “Whose idea was this?” The girl was screaming now. “Trevor hasn’t even been missing for a full week yet!”

  “Enough,” said Ada. “Control yourself or I will issue a formal reprimand.”

  Vivian glared at Archer, her eyes smoldering with what could only be interpreted as hate. Archer rubbed the spot where she’d slapped him again and shook his head.

  “Hey, I didn’t ask for this,” he said. “Don’t blame me.”

  “You… bastard!” she said, keeping her voice low as to not be overheard. “You’ll never be able to fill Trevor’s shoes!”

  Archer sighed. He’d been through too much in the past day to have an appropriate reaction for the vitriol of his new acquaintance.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said. He extended his hand to shake, smiling a little. Vivian spat on the ground next to him, climbed back into her armor skin, and stormed off.

  CHAPTER 14

  “She was Trevor’s fiancée.”

  Ada was waiting for him in the armory, once Archer had finished with the basic training area and looped back around. The hallucination of Trevor, if that’s what it had actually been, disappeared after Vivian had taken off.

  “I figured it was probably something like that,” said Archer. “How is it that nobody told her that you were going to run a test with me in Trevor’s armor skin?”

  Ada smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “She hasn’t been taking his disappearance well,” she said. “She’s spent a lot of time out in the wasteland, with the rest of the search team. I didn’t realize that she’d returned to Tempus.”

  Archer was standing in front of the armor skin, looking at it and wondering how much he should tell Ada about what he’d seen. From her reaction, it seemed as though she was satisfied with the test. The fact that he’d been able to use it without lapsing into a coma or suffering a stroke was a good sign, but he could only wonder if there were more potential medical complications that they’d never discovered.

  Would they even care if I told them? They seem desperate to field as many Metal Knights as they can.

  “I’m going to leave you in Karen’s hands for the next few hours,” said Ada. “She’s going to run a full battery of tests to make absolutely sure that there isn’t anything that we’ve missed.”

  “Sure,” he said. He briefly considered telling Karen about the hallucinations to get her medical opinion, but decided against it. He doubted that there was anything she could do, and it would only serve to undermine Ada’s trust in him if she thought he was losing his mind.

  “She’s also going to talk to you about the… conditions, that need to be met, for you to operate the armor skin at a high level,” said Ada.

  “Conditions?”

  For the first time since Archer had met her, he saw Ada look slightly flustered. There was sadness in her expression, but also a bit of guilt. She crossed her arms and gave a slow, dipping nod.

  “…Yes,” she said. “Conditions. You’ll understand what I mean soon enough.”

  Archer made a quick trip into the locker room to change back into his regular clothes, and then headed to the medical office. Karen was ready and waiting for him. She greeted Archer with a wide smile as he came through the door.

  “I am thrilled!” she said, clapping her hands. “I was so worried. Honestly, what you’ve done is nothing short of miraculous, Archer.”

  “The odds were stacked that high against me?”

  Karen hesitated for a split second, and when she finally spoke, Archer knew she’d intended to say something else.

  “I mean, not exactly,” she said. “I’m just concerned, as a medical professional.”

  “Right,” he said.

  She had him sit down on the examination table and began going through a much wider variety of tests then what he’d done before. Archer changed into a thin medical gown, and found that the ambient temperature was actually a few degrees below optimal comfort.

  After taking a blood sample and getting a saliva swab, Karen returned to the room and pulled her chair up to sit across from him on the examination table. Her expression was muted, lacking the enthusiasm he’d seen in her before.

  “There is one last thing I need to speak with you about, Archer,” she said. “It’s not something that’s easy for me to be forthcoming about.”

  Archer nodded slowly.

  “Go right ahead,” he said. “It’s probably better if we get it over with.”

  Karen smiled slightly.

  “As I explained to you early, the armor skins are a form of symbiotic technology,” she said. “They have a nervous system that allows you to feel and react more effectively in combat, but one of the unintended consequences of that can also have effects on the psychology of the wearer.”

  Archer froze.

  Those hallucinations… This would explain where they were coming from.

  “What do you mean by that, exactly?” he asked.

  Karen sighed.

  “I saw how Vivian reacted to you in the training area,” she said. “It’s a classic symptom of the psychological backdraft. Her emotions probably were not all her own.”

  “Alright,” he said. “So… The armor skins make emotions more volatile.”

  Karen nodded, but still seemed to be holding something back.

  “The effects can persist even when you’re out of the skin,” she said. “Past a certain point, they will interfere with you being able to control the armor skin while you’re inside of it.”

  Archer took a slow breath and then exhaled. He thought about his next question very carefully.

  “Does it go further than just that?” he asked. “Do other psychological disorders ever pop up? Things like delusions, or maybe… hallucinations?”

  If the question gave something away to Karen, she was extremely good at not letting it show. She shook her head.

  “No, it’s not like that,” she said. “At least, I haven’t gotten any firsthand accounts about that from any of the other Metal Knights. Why, is that something you experienced?”

  “No,” said Archer, quickly. “Just wondering.”

  Karen nodded and let it drop.

  “My point is, we need to be proactive in talking about measures that you can take in order to keep your emotional needs met, both inside the armor skin and outside of it. Healthy eating, getting plenty of sleep, even things like meditation and forming a strong social network for emotional support.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  “Archer, I will be plain with you,” said Karen, leaning in a little closer. “Captain Ada cares more about having the Metal Squad in the field than she does about preserving your mental health long term. If you can’t find a way to moderate your emotions on your own… You’ll be forced into taking pharmaceuticals to treat the problem.”

  “Like… antipsychotics?” he asked.

  The smile Karen offered in return to his question sent a chill running down Archer’s spine. He fidgeted on the table, feeling the cold air against his skin and wishing he could finish with the examination and get dressed.

  “Anyway, we’re just about done,” said Karen. “A few more tests and you’ll be free to go.”

  It took another hour for her to finally finish up. Archer pulled his clothes back on as soon as she’d left the room and then headed back out into the main armory room. Ada was waiting for him by the elevator back to the surface with a frown on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Ada sighed.

  “Somebody leaked more details to the media channels,” she said. “They’re demanding an interview with you. Alone.”

  Archer felt a pang of nervousness in his chest. He‘d been interviewed a couple of times about Trevor when he was younger, not by the TV medial channels, b
ut by journalists and writers. Even then, the experience had usually been one of him struggling to defend himself against baseless accusations and a narrative that painted him as a villain, rather than a poor, struggling, inconsequential teenager.

  “No,” said Archer. “I’m not doing it.”

  “I’m your commanding officer, Archer,” said Ada, her voice sharpening. “If I say jump, you say how high. End of discussion.”

  He scowled.

  “But is it really necessary?” he asked.

  “If you don’t give an interview, they’re going to turn on you,” she said. “The narrative they push will paint you as the villain and Trevor as the hero and victim.”

  “That’s already what it’s been for the past six years,” said Archer.

  Ada shook her head and ran a hand over her forehead.

  “Archer,” she said, softly. “You have barely been on their radar, up until now. You haven’t experienced a fraction of what they can throw at you. You’re doing this interview, and we’re just going to have to hope for the best.”

  CHAPTER 15

  He rode the elevator back up to the surface with Ada, finding that repeated exposure made them slightly more tolerable. It was late afternoon, and the air outside smelled of coal smoke. The concrete ground inside of the North Compound had an orange hue to it, as if it were on the verge of bursting into flames.

  Ada led him back to the rail car, used the control device to set in their destination, and then sat down next to him. She seemed just as nervous about what was to come as Archer, and she fidgeted continuously as the vehicle slowly worked its way up to speed.

  “You’ll have to give answers to all of their questions,” she said. “Being silent isn’t an option here.”

  “Do you just want me to do what I did before?” asked Archer. “Totally honesty?”

  “It’s not that simple Archer.” She breathed out a sigh. “There are no hard rules about how to handle this. Don’t exaggerate or lie when it isn’t necessary, obviously, but don’t incriminate yourself, either.”