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Arc F1.7 | Chapter 35: Maybe I’ll Just… Forget All This…

Vantril was a good intern—would one day be a good officer, assuming she managed to survive this situation and came out without Chief Officer Fulbrun deciding that she was an idiot and needed to die, her entire family line cut off because she was the only kid on both sides of only kids and maybe this was how it ended? How decades of legacy were snuffed out? Some power hungry man—But no, Chief Officer Fulbrun was a good man. A little naive, some said—and really, the fact that so many random factions had infiltrated the Drinarna and the government might be a sign that was true? Although, factions rising and falling within their government wasn’t really anything new—and she’d told the Baalphorians that! It was important that they understand that the Drinarna and the Lüshanian government as a whole were a place of struggle. Everyone wanted a bump up in life—wanted to grab power for themself, few caring about who they toppled with their greedy hands, always reaching and searching for more power.

Codeth asked, popping Vantril out of her meandering thoughts as he pulled to a stop, the long section of the underground passage they’d been—what was the word? Microsparking? That sounded right, but it was a Baalphorian word, and when she’d asked for a translation into Lüshanian, there had been none. Baylor—Vantril liked Baylor, even if he had so much energy and seemed to be purposefully making his personality as big as possible—had tried to make a suggestion. The quiet clone had said someone should ask —a member of the other group who was still up on the ceiling and Vantril was pretty sure had a strained relationship with half the people down in the city. Baylor had proceeded to freak out—and there had to be a story there—but then Darrian had been there, softly soothing his hand through Baylor’s hair, and then! That homeless girl, Westrial, had been there too, Darrian risking the stench of her to scratch her head as well.

They were all strange—cute, in a perverse and weird sort of way—but nice. Dangerous, too. Vantril felt like they could kill anyone—or, they’d at least try. The fact that they’d let Codeth go off not just without another Baalphorian for support, but with her as well? She thought it was pretty obvious they’d been talking to someone at an embassy, asking questions about her—learning whether she was to be trusted or not—but for them to actually trust her? To trust her alone with Codeth? To trust Bireth back with them?

Yeah, there was a good dose of stupidity and confidence in all of these people. Vantril liked it, in a way. It was so different from what Drinarna interns were like, each of their spirits beaten down until they were meek and obedient. It was only once they were more fully trained that they were allowed to regain some confidence in their abilities—at least, that’s what their supervisors had said? Well, not of their supervisors, but some of them. It had been yet another thing she’d been meaning to ask her parents and maternal grandparents about, each little thing that seemed with their supervisors and the Drinarna as a whole, when compared to all the stories she’d heard from her older relatives, adding up until she had a million questions filed away inside her head, all adding up until there were still more and more and more—an unending torrent of

Codeth laughed as he helped her get down off his back, the pair of them having come to the end of this section of the underground tunnels,

Vantril laughed, pushing open the door that would—assuming her memory of the underground tunnels was accurate—open up into an abandoned building. Luckily, it did—she didn’t want to let Codeth down! He was looking for his friend and was clearly really worried about him. The guy had explained a bit of the problem while they moved, using his temporary appearance as a Drinarna officer when they’d first entered the underground tunnels as an example: apparently, while he could both manufacture the uniform from the aether itself and temporarily alter his appearance to appear Lüshanian, his friend wouldn’t be able to.

Vantril had asked, breaking into a grimace as they’d passed through an area with sewer access—the worst thing about travelling the underground tunnels was that while they weren’t the sewers themselves, they often had access vents and stank. Totally horrific, and really, how had Westrial been living the sewers? And also, why!? There were plenty of areas of the underground tunnels that few people bothered to travel. The girl was clearly smart and powerful—she’d heard Baylor singing the girl’s praise for attacking them and mostly managing to hold her own when they’d first landed in the city. So, why hadn’t she hunkered down in a less-travelled area of the tunnels?

No good reason that Vantril could think of, and one of the first things she’d done once they were a little ways away from the group was telling Codeth to let his friends know that the girl might be on the run from someone. Interns generally weren’t given information on missing people or low-level criminals, so if it was the Drinarna the kid was hiding from, Vantril had no idea. Could just as easily be that she was hiding from one of the city’s criminal factions.

Codeth had easily admitted they’d already figured she had some sort of connection to the criminals of the city. Shrugging, Codeth had told her that, realistically, the girl didn’t seem dangerous—a tad desperate, but not dangerous to them.

Yet another tick on the scale, Vantril had thought. When they’d later discussed Codeth’s friend Mikhail and his faulty Censor—or faulty brain, depending on one’s point of view—Vantril had thought that perhaps their confidence was deserved: Mikhail had purposefully trained himself to never try to use a skill that he no longer had access to.

What had followed was a short discussion in which Vantril’s basic understanding of Censors had been both expanded and confused. Did she understand how these Baalphorians used their Censors? A bit. In summary: they used them like maniacs. As a result, Vantril was almost positive her new information about resources and aetherstores and functions and skills—some of which were mentioned to be , others mentioned as —wouldn’t be relevant to any other Baalphorian.

Vantril said, finally answering Codeth’s question as she fully pushed the door open and ushered Codeth through—he was rather insistent that he go first, despite being younger than her. When she’d brought this up, back when they’d been with the entire group, Sorvell had said something about how

What had followed was a short explanation about . Vantril was, quite honestly, going to forget she’d heard it, lest she feel obligated to tell Chief Officer Fulbrun about how at least a handful of young Baalphorians held decades of extra time inside their minds, due to what appeared to be some mixture of hacking, government over under regulation, and a doctor choosing to ignore the law.

Some things, in the end, were better left forgotten. The only reason Vantril was remembering it at all was because, based on what she’d heard, Codeth was likely slightly older than her mentally. Hence, if he wanted to go first, he could go right ahead.

Vantril said as they moved through the building, Codeth stopping to peek out of a window, attempting to figure out where they were exactly, in terms of the maps he had inside his Censor.

As he did every so often, he pulled up a projection of the map for her to view. It was highly illegal for foreigners to have maps of Lüshan. Currently, it was another thing Vantril was choosing to forget about. Later, she’d tell Chief Officer Fulbrun that he might want to make sure they deleted their maps. For the moment, she was sure that if she said anything about it, she’d suddenly find herself trussed up, Codeth leaving her behind.

Peeking at the map as Codeth’s Censor worked to pull bits into alignment—they could see the spire from here, and using some sort of math he was able to align their current position on to the map, as well as shift a few of the overlaying maps until they matched a little better. It was all complicated, although Codeth claimed it wasn’t too hard—all apparently, his Censor doing most of the work. Interestingly, it seemed like functions could , and in particular,

From what she understood, this mostly meant that when visiting Baalphorians spoke truly atrocious Lüshanian, it was both because they couldn’t speak the language without their Censor supplying them with translations because few Baalphorians could speak any other foreign language. Due to these facts, the function for translating only worked so well. As every one of the Baalphorians she had met today knew at least one foreign language, with several knowing at least some Lüshanian, this meant their functions worked better they were quickly picking up Lüshanian due to being so immersed in it.

Censors, in Vantril’s opinion, were strange. Also, given the ease with which Codeth’s Censor was readjusting the maps… didn’t that mean he could do all this without his Censor? According to the young man: yes, but he would either need other within his Censor to do it to and possible a piece of paper and a pen,

Vantril was a sub-30, but she had to admit, Baalphorian sub-30s were rather terrifying. Mostly, this led her to further believe she was right to help them: in no way did their nation want Baalphoria as an enemy, upset that so many of their children had died in some definitely gang, possibly government conflict!

Codeth said, leaning back to stare at the map as Vantril finished her messy explanation of connotations for each version of to him—it was not a good explanation and she had no idea if even understood it at this point, let alone the poor Baalphorian!

Vantril blinked at the map, eyes falling to the place their icons lit up, and then to the oddly empty space two blocks away. As it wasn’t a completely accurate representation of the city, it was a bit difficult to tell… but yes, given the trail of purple that marked where the previously kidnapped Baalphorian non-dev had travelled, that likely was the courtyard the child their friend and Gëon found had mentioned their group having split up at.

That was… something. It meant the rest of the escapees might be around, needing help. It also meant Hwris might still be lingering in the area and they definitely didn’t want to run into that man—not that they were likely to see him coming.