6.
Five days before the Selection
After the bots return to normal, the medical bots are dispatched throughout the floor. They give us all a quick scan before sending Sánchez and General Caelum to the medical facility for further follow-up tests. I want to follow Sánchez to check on their arm, but the general tugs on my sleeve.
"Come with me, Lara." Her voice croaks, still parched from the burns.
"Yes, General."
I follow the medical bot as it wheels General Caelum to an examination room. She sits on a bed while another bot scans her body.
"How are you feeling?" General Caelum asks. "Are you hurt?"
I was hurt, but I'm recovered now, so I decide on a half-truth to ease her worries. "No, General, I'm- I'm fine."
"I didn't know you were in the area when I blew up the room. I could've burned you. Why were you in the area, anyway? It was quite far from your living quarters."
"I was practicing in the shooting range, General." It's so bizarre to say that; my morning practice feels like a lifetime ago. Now, my mind is miles away from practice, from the Selection... from everything I cared so much about.
But I will never admit this to General Caelum. Not when she looks at me with such pride in her eyes.
"On a day-off? Very good, Lara. I'm glad you are working so hard every day. It's unfortunate the attacks stopped your practice. Those terrorists, whoever they are, need to be brought to justice."
"Didn't you, uh," —I struggle to find the right words— "stop them, um, permanently, General?"
General Caelum waves her free hand. Her other hand is getting blood drawn by the medical bot. "There's more of them wherever they came from. I also have intel that one aircraft got away before we could take it down. We need to figure out who they are and ensure this does not happen again." She lets out a breath of annoyance. "I can't believe they hacked our systems. I need to speak to our engineering team about rectifying this issue. It's going to cost so much to repair all the damages they've done."
"They killed people too." And I did, too. I killed people. People my age.
"Yes, that too. Absolutely horrendous. And they're not even merciful to their kind." She tilts her head towards the door. "Your little rival is not doing so well."
Sánchez's charred cyberarm flashes through my mind. Their pained expression. Their labored wheezes. The 'pop' sound as I pulled the arm off. The way it crumbled away into a lifeless pile of ash.
Today has been... overwhelming.
I blink rapidly. "Sánchez is not with them."
"I know, but at least they're the least of your worries now. It's a blessing in disguise. There's no way they can even pass the initial screenings with one arm, let alone compete in the Selection."
"But they can get a new cyberarm."
"Oh, that's not possible," General Caelum dismisses as she removes her arm from the medical bot. Her blood test is completed, and pills are now being dispensed into a small bowl.
"Why?" I ask, frowning. "Is it too damaged to be repaired?" But General Caelum did not so much as look at Sánchez just now, so how would she know...
General Caelum takes a pill and swallows it. "Our mechanics do not work on bodies of Ground Earth dwellers."
"What? Why?"
"Being born and raised in a nuclear wasteland has significant effects on the human body. Their DNA differs completely from ours."
"But it has been two centuries after the Last World War. Surely it's not that bad now, is it?" And I cannot fathom Sánchez being that different from me.
General Caelum's brows furrow as she fixes her gaze on mine. "Lara, every single nuclear bomb in the world was set off during the war. Do you know how many that is?"
With a sigh, I recite what I remember from my history lessons. "Over five thousand—"
"Over five thousand nuclear bombs were set off, that's right. Do you have any idea how destructive that is? Do you think two hundred years is enough to clean that up? Everything on Ground Earth is tainted, Lara. Don't be deceived by your anecdotal interactions with just one Earther. They are let into the Tower, so they are the exception, not the rule."
I bow my head and clench my fists around my pants. An unusual feeling gnaws at my heart.
"Don't look so glum," General Caelum chides after gulping down the rest of her pills. "You were lucky to have come out of this unharmed, despite being so close to the danger. Meanwhile, your greatest rival has fallen. Embrace this situation, Lara, and keep your head up. Think of it as a... silver lining to the atrocious attacks."
My nails dig into my palms. I've always known General Caelum has a disdain for Ground Earth, but now, I can't stand that about her. Sánchez doesn't deserve to be pushed out of the competition like this. Not like this.
"Oh, and I chatted with the other generals and found out who they will be sponsoring," General Caelum continues. "None of their chosen cadets are as good as you are. Far, far from it." Her lips curl. "You are a shoo-in for winning the Selection."
I perk up at that. "Who else is getting sponsored, General?"
"Well, General Romero is sponsoring one of his family members. Some boy in your cadet class called Joaquin Romero. He's not doing too well in the practice sessions though so there's nothing to worry about there. NovaTopia is obviously out of his reach, so his goal is probably a lower-tier space station. General Quill is sponsoring someone called Nicolas Bailey. You might know him. His scores are decent, but still a far cry from yours."
Oh, Nicolas Bailey. I see his name beneath mine on the scoreboard occasionally, but I don't know much about him. I don't know much about anybody in the cadet class, apparently. Like, General Lucius Romero has a family member in the class?
Wait, neither of the generals is sponsoring Sánchez. Was Sánchez lying to me about being sponsored?
"You still don't seem too happy even after hearing all that." General Caelum raises her brows.
"No, General, I'm... I'm happy." Even while saying that, I could barely force out a weak smile. If this sponsorship conversation had happened just a day ago—or even this morning—I would've been elated. But now, I can't bring myself to care for it anymore. "I'm just tired, I guess. I apologize, General."
General Caelum's lips tighten. "Go get some rest then. I'll see you in a few days."
"Yes, General."
She turns away from me as she lays down on the bed. I leave the room silently.
The hallways are as white and pristine as ever. There are no signs of blood or char, and no hints of the destruction that occurred. I watch as a cleaning bot glides past me. Was it that easy to return things to normal? Was the attack just a minor bump on the road?
Another cleaning bot rolls up to me, holding out two earpieces.
Oh, Rea.
It's strange, but I have forgotten about Rea. My personal Rule-Enforcing AI has been with me since the earliest days of my cadet life, talking into my ears and reminding me of the rules I should follow to stay on the Tower as a cadet. But after a few hours without it, I am already used to the silence.
I quite like it, actually.
With a small sigh, I slip my earpieces back on. Rea's robotic voice floods into me as it instructs me to leave the medical area for the safety of any immunocompromised patients. I sigh again. I'm already going to do that anyway.
But my steps halt when I walk by another examination room. The patient inside is sitting up on the hospital bed, back hunched, head hung.
It's Sánchez.
I've never seen them with a posture like that. They look more than exhausted. They look... defeated.
Despite Rea's objections, I step into the room. They lift their head to look at me, only to lower it again. "Hey, Lorensky."
"Hey, Sánchez."
I sit next to the bed. The chair is cold and stiff; everything seems cold and stiff in this room. There isn't a medical bot in sight. Was Sánchez even tended to at all?
"What do you want?" they croak.
I can't see their eyes, but the metal plate on their shoulder seems to glare at me. A lump forms in my throat. "I just... wanted to see how you are doing, that's all."
"I'm as good as I can be."
That's the same non-answer they gave me earlier. I peel my eyes away from them—away from the limbless shoulder—and fix my gaze on the bedsheet instead. The white, pristine bedsheet.
"General Caelum told me you're not able to get a new cyberarm," I whisper. "Is that... is that true?"
A long pause ensues.
Finally, they let out a breath. "Yeah, pretty much."
The words are a soft sigh, but a hard punch to my gut. So General Caelum was right. Sánchez lost their cyberarm to save me and now... they can't get it back. The bedsheet blurs into a pale swirl.
"I was told that when I was accepted into the Tower as a cadet," Sánchez continues with a shrug, "so this isn't a shock or anything. I knew there wouldn't be a mechanic to help me should anything happen to my cyberarm. The mechanics here do not have the license to work on Ground Earth-born individuals. I could get ointments and other items for basic care from them, but I'll have to do everything else myself, and that's how it has been ever since I came here."
"There's... not a single mechanic here with a license?"
"Yeah. Or rather, their licenses only permit them to work on people born here."
"But that doesn't make sense. Why would they limit the permissions like that? There are so many people from Ground Earth entering the Tower!"
Sánchez snorts. "Oh yeah? Who else do you know?"
I open my mouth to retort, but my mind draws a blank. Who else do I know?
"I don't know anybody else," I admit. "But I mean, I don't know many people, Ground Earth dwellers or not, so that doesn't mean anything."
Sánchez bursts into laughter. I lift my head, and our eyes meet for the first time since the start of our conversation.
"Did you just admit you have no friends, Lorensky?" they tease.
My cheeks burn. "I- I know people in our class!"
"As if you socialize with them."
"Who has time to be socializing?"
Sánchez laughs again. There's a lot more energy in their voice now. "God, you're such a loser, Lorensky."
"Whatever, I definitely won't be one in the Selection now." My smug statement slips out before realization strikes me. "Wait, no, I'm sorry, Sánchez, crap, I didn't mean it like that. I just- I mean- Sorry, we've been saying things like that for so long that I—"
"Shut up, Lorensky." Sánchez tilts their head, their signature smirk returning to their lips. "Do you think I'm not gonna win because of my arm? I'll be used to this in no time."
"But the Selection is in five days."
"That's more than enough time for me. Worry about yourself, Lorensky. Go back to practice or you'll fall behind."
"You need to join me too, or you'll fall behind."
Their smile falters. "I know. The medical bot advised me to wait a day."
"Oh. Okay. So... I'll see you at practice tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"Okay." I rise to my feet. We stare at each other for a while before I tear my eyes away awkwardly. "Um, take care, Sánchez."
"Yeah," they mutter. "You too."
As I step out of the room, I glance back at Sánchez. They are back to that hunched, defeated posture. I turn around, and the white, pristine walls stare back at me. The color is making me nauseous now.
"At least they're the least of your worries now." General Caelum's words are a stinging buzz in my ears.
I close my eyes and let the tears flow.
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