Chapter Text
The Earth-Mars conflict entered its cyclical stagnation period, as the alignment of celestial bodies rendered any open warfare too inconvenient for both parties. This did not, however, mean that either side was idle. Despite some hoped for an actual peace, everyone was preparing for the time when the two planets inevitably become closer to each other. They were licking their wounds, regrouping… and working on inventions that history would prefer to forget. Assuming there would be anyone left to write it.
One of the Martian developments happened to be a pre-teen girl with blonde hair. During this particular training session, an observer could compare her to a little ball of energy. It wasn’t everyday when she could exercise with Gelda, the experienced berserker woman who once saved the lives of her and her best friend. The event left an everlasting impression on her. In the young warrior’s head, Gelda was an embodiment of everything she could aspire to or long for. She was excited at the opportunity to impress her sensei, to show off how much she had improved. There was just one problem though — the thoughts of her sensei weren’t revolving around the training.
Gelda looked at the empty observation gallery. One thing she had to give Nova credit for, a week passed since their meeting and she didn't see him watching her spar with Yoko since then. Neither with any other student. To be honest, she couldn’t spot him anywhere. The man disappeared completely. Well, that’s what she asked for, right? Just a bit over the top. Shouldn't she feel content?
Glances of the teacher and autopilot-like fighting didn’t go unnoticed by the student.
What is so interesting outside our sphere? Other students? Whatever it is, I must be not good enough. If I was, sensei wouldn’t be able to think about anything else than this fight!
The girl recalled how her heart swelled with joy upon the sensei’s last praise. There wasn’t any more intoxicating feeling in her life and she wanted to experience it again. She was determined. Remembering her lessons that frustration and anger alone wouldn’t get her far, she took a deep breath and started forming a new tactic…
Gelda was about to focus on the fight, if not for the glass reflection that gave her a view of the observation gallery behind her. It was no longer empty. For a split second her eyes widened a bit, only to turn back into the neutral disguise. Why did she feel a weird… disappointment? Maybe because Nova was a regular element of this environment, while those two men in expensive outfits weren’t. Yeah, it must be it. One of them gestured and made a comment, the other chuckled in response. Gelda couldn’t hear what they were talking about. Regardless, the look on their faces wasn't providing her any positive emotions. It went through her mind again that maybe she was too harsh on Nova.
What, did she worry about some upper-class narcissist’s feelings? No, of course not. She just wanted to act fair in her life, that’s all. And what she threw at him didn’t feel fair. She didn’t believe in what she implied, she just wanted to scare him off from watching her and Yoko. Considering he disappeared, maybe she succeeded. However, words can have consequences you don’t consider at first. For example, he could start to fear it wasn’t just her ideas, but there are actually such rumors going around. Or worse — what if somebody, or rather some AI, filtered the camera recordings in the lab, reported them and he got into real trouble? Nah, don’t overdo it. In such a scenario, she would be called as a witness or something. Besides, the sad truth was, elites like him could get away with actual crimes, not mere suspicions. Unless the government would start to take interest in the topic of treason, now that was another matter…
Gelda was pondering like that, about the damage she potentially inflicted, until there was a sudden, unexpected movement. She countered it without thinking and soon the sound of her own yell or a growl followed that, to her own surprise. Both trainer and trainee stopped fighting.
Gelda took a deeper breath, her body felt weird, but especially her left hand. It was cold. Or hot. Or both at once. She raised her hand in front of her to investigate it and could see the shocked face of her student.
… which wouldn’t be unusual if not for the fact she was seeing it through a giant tear in her palm. Her fingers spasmed helplessly as thousands of connections were just destroyed. Droplets of blue blood started floating in the zero gravity space. Gelda moved her stare at her student’s fighting stick, whose end was covered in the same blood.
“Sensei?” The girl asked.
Gelda exhaled slowly through the nose. She put her damaged arm down. A heatwave went through the body, head felt dizzy. Without turning, she peeked outside, to the gallery and other spheres. Some berserkers inside them kept fighting. Some were glancing in curiosity. The investors in the gallery — they were definitely watching.
“You managed to force your opponent to block the attack with their hand and take damage,” Gelda spoke calmly. Her palm was burning. It briefly came to her mind this girl never witnessed her yelling in pain or looking hurt. The seniors always taught the young to wear expressionless masks. So she did to remain an example. “Why did you stop, though?”
Naturally, Gelda knew why but asked for educational purposes. Yes, she felt a bit weak when she saw her hand, but if the girl kept fighting, maybe she wouldn’t even notice for a while. She only stopped because the student did, which allowed the information to sink in.
“I… thought in such situations, the training has to stop,” the girl responded.
“Such damage is not enough to stop a berserker. Our bodies are made to hold up and keep going. See?” Gelda showed her hand. It wasn’t bleeding anymore.
“You’ll fight with only one arm, sensei?” The girl asked shyly, actually preparing her grip.
“One arm?” Gelda raised her brow and they slowly started sparring again. “It’s just a damaged hand. That still leaves you with two usable arms,” she said while landing a successful hit with her elbow. The two separated for a moment. “What if someone neutralized your whole arm?“ Gelda put the damaged hand behind her back. The girl observed and attacked after a reassuring nod from her teacher. The teacher blocked the attack without struggle. “You may even find yourself in a situation, when you yourself have to cut off your limb to survive.” Or should she phrase it differently? After all, survival sometimes doesn't equal finishing the mission... “But that’s something we’ll practice later.”
Gelda gave the student a hard time with just one arm and could see a trace of frustration on her face. She didn’t want it to look like she was taking revenge on her student nor punishing, but the little girl needed some reality check to avoid feeling too powerful. It was probably a lesson to her as well. Like with any form of art, martial or not, you always have to remind yourself about the basics. Such as never feeling too secure.
***
When the session time was up, they both left the zero-g sphere and stepped on the deck. Gelda was doing a quick check out on the control panel. After a moment of hesitation, knowing this is her small time window before they’re about to part ways, the student got the courage to speak:
“Sensei?” She looked at Gelda with her big blue eyes.
“Yes?” Gelda was reading the data.
“...Are you angry at me?” She asked on impulse and regretted it already, because what if it was unprofessional to do? Moreover, to suggest Gelda could get angry... it would be more appropriate to say disappointed.
Gelda stopped reading and turned at the girl so their gazes could meet.
“No, I’m not,” she answered calmly and didn’t want to explain further — it was more important to her to let the student read from her eyes. After a moment, the girl’s nerves were soothed down as she understood there was no anger nor disappointment. “By the way, I didn’t even need to see the numbers to notice you improved since the last time,” she added and smiled gently.
The girl’s eyes widened and sparkled as realisation came about what she just heard. She had to refrain herself from jumping from excitement.
“Thank you, sense-,” the little ball of energy started, but suddenly the hand of the teacher landed on her shoulder.
“I also want you to remember this lesson. About what happened to me because I let my guard down,” Gelda’s gaze was stern. “You saw it yourself. No matter how good you are. Never be overconfident. Never underestimate your enemy,” she lowered her voice. “Do you promise me that?”
The girl swallowed nervously and nodded.
“Hm? Didn’t hear anything,” Gelda kept her gaze.
“Yes, I promise to never let my guard down!” The girl straightened.
“Good,” Gelda patted the girl's shoulder and smiled smugly, almost like her younger self. Then turned and spoke through the microphone in her pocket device while walking away. “Five-minute break, then fight in pairs.”
As students were sparring with each other, she crossed paths with another berserker teacher. They used that time to enjoy a small talk.
“I think it's the first time a student from this generation managed to injure an adult Künstler beyond minor scratches," he said at one point.
“Didn’t you once get stabbed in your buttock?" Gelda raised her brow.
“Alright, alright,” he rolled his eyes. “How is your hand?”
The hand, well… she couldn't move her middle, ring and consequently pinky finger, because there were simply no muscles to do that. She wished it healed faster. After all the hype about regenerating abilities, that was below her expectations.
“It’s alright,” she responded in a neutral tone, but her colleague guessed her true opinion.
“I’ve heard the next update will bring an improvement on that,” he smiled reassuringly.
“That would mean there’s at least one upside of this Investor Day,” she said, and looked around to find the visitors with her gaze. “Speaking of investors…”
Gelda found them next to the sphere where two female students were fighting, but unlike the blonde girl she sparred today, their bodies were taller and had visibly feminine coded figures. They were still kids though. Kids and pioneers. Because in comparison, Gelda received a fully cybernetic body when she was an adult, just like her colleagues, to not disturb the brain’s natural development. Then the times changed and so did the government’s directives. The new berserkers were supposed to go through a total replacement transition as early as possible. The scientists however, couldn’t agree if it was more optimal to do it before or after hitting puberty. Therefore, different age groups were made.
“Could you check on our dear guests if they haven’t gotten lost by any chance?” Gelda gestured at them, tongue-in-cheek.
Her companion was much bigger than not only just her but was imposing even among fellow male berserkers. The soldier looked at the guests, whom he would certainly tower over if he approached them.
“Hmm… oh, yes, they seem to be in need of a kind, guiding hand,” he crossed his arms, as he saw how the girls observed by investors started to get distracted.
“Just don’t scare them away, those are our potential benefactors,” Gelda sighed.
“Sure, sure… we could use some extra funding for our new facility,” he nodded, then turned to Gelda after a pause. “I heard they’ll show the visualisations of it during today’s event. Are you coming?”
“It would be rude to refuse an official invitation, so…” Gelda tilted her head and shrugged.
Her colleague nodded.
“See you later then!” He waved his hand and they went into separate directions — the man to the two rich businessmen, Gelda — to the locker rooms.
***
The locker room for instructors was empty and Gelda couldn’t complain about it. She was content to have a moment of solitude, especially considering all the “socializing” awaiting her that evening. Sitting on the bench, she was observing both of her hands side by side, closing and opening them slowly. Externally, there was no trace that her hand was ever impaled — if not for a tiny, uncanny detail. When she closed her fingers, there was a jump in movement that was absent in the healthy hand. It was doubtful anybody would understand if she tried to explain it, though. Gelda sighed and put her arms down.
No matter.
Thanks to the usage of berserker cells, software updates could also affect the hardware. If one needed a facelift of the arm for example, there was no need to produce any new parts — just reprogram the nanites and they would configure accordingly. In any case, every update brought a reset of the berserker shell. Soon, her body would be like new. Maybe even better than new. She managed to talk with the beta tester and he spilled this would be a major upgrade, bigger than he expected. Well, they all would find out in the evening but until then…
Gelda pulled out a plastic drink pouch from her bag, full of cobalt-colored substance. She opened it, took a few sips and looked at her hand again. Healed right, healed wrong, whatever. She shouldn’t get this injury in the first place. Or she should, depending how one looked at it — better this way than on a battlefield. It was a warning. Apparently she became overconfident, but no wonder about that; she was teaching kids in a safe, controlled environment. When was the last time she was on a mission? Tasted real danger? Months probably. She let her thoughts wander… and about what? She sipped. This stupid white-maned scientist. Then those investors. She frowned at the thought of them.
Looks like when you get rid of one idiot watching you, another will come.
Except, did she actually get rid of Nova if he stayed in her mind? She happened to come back to their meeting from time to time, not just in terms of her own behaviour but his as well. Some of the things he said were puzzling in an afterthought… She took the last sip and looked at the pouch. It was recommended for berserkers to drink it in case of injury.
You’re thinking your ass off when most likely this encounter flew over him like water off a duck's back. Making theories about his disappearance, when your meeting has probably nothing to do with it. And even if it does… ha, do you want to know why has he disappeared? For attention. He wants you to notice his absence. Unfortunately for him, you have other things to think about.
She nodded to herself, proud she seemingly closed the case, and looked at her gloves lying on the bench. Bodies could heal up, fabric couldn't. When superhuman strength was at play, it was only wise to have a dedicated bin for destroyed clothes. It stood in the shared corridor, thankfully just as empty as the locker room. She casually approached it, opened, dumped her gloves, closed the bin and… Something was off. She opened the bin again and looked inside.
“... Yoko’s scarf?”, she thought, and the next few seconds assured her that indeed, this was Yoko’s. It was around the little girl’s neck when Gelda rescued her. The only piece of clothing left from the times before joining the Berserker Project. Was Gelda supposed to believe Yoko would just dump it here?...
Her hand dove into the bin to retrieve the scarf and examine it. It wasn’t damaged, well, at least not any more than it was before. She stared at the piece of cloth as if it could tell her how it ended up there. Was it none of her business? Eh, looks like she indeed had “other things to think about”…
The blue scarf wasn't too talkative so Gelda packed it inside her bag. A quick glance around the corridor also didn’t provide any clues. It seemed she couldn’t do much at this point. She headed toward the foyer.
As Gelda walked, her mind was already in a different place, planning out the next days, and her body was about to leave the training facility as well, if not for one of the guards standing in her way. It turned out the monitoring body of training sessions requested to collect some data from her.
Oh no, they saw me stealing from the trashbin. Wee-oww, wee-oww!
Seriously though, why inspect her? They were being scanned, recorded and analyzed real time inside zero-g spheres. At that moment, the only possible reason coming to her mind was her hand. Did they want to see how it healed? Yeah, could it be… Finding a logical explanation calmed her. Then she thought she could use this as an opportunity to ask about camera recordings from the locker room area. All was coming out together nicely in her head.
Until she was told to blow into the breathanalyzer. They also took a blood sample. Gelda was confused again at first, then it hit her. Nobody was giving a damn about her hand damage — they wanted to know why. How come a veteran berserker künstler failed to avoid damage from a mere fledgling? And why Gelda, of all the people?
You’re perfect. In your performance.
Words from the previous week resounded in her head, almost whispered by an apathetic voice which obviously wasn’t her own.
Well. Not anymore.
Gelda responded, unbothered. She didn’t expect perfection from herself nor anyone else. It would only be foolish to do so, when even the best machines weren’t perfect. Her fingers curled up unsmoothly just to confirm. Perfection, however, was indeed an image that few — or perhaps more than a few — had of her. There was only hoping the truth wouldn’t come to them the hard way…
As for the check up, she wouldn’t deny: it wasn’t a comfortable feeling to know that one slip up of her caused a whole investigation. However, that should serve as yet another lesson of that day. She would remember to be careful of what she says and does inside the zero gravity spheres, because whoever was monitoring those, was also doing that carefully.
Gelda was absorbed in her thoughts enough to not notice that in the meantime, she managed to part with the guards and step out from the building — until she felt the brush of a gentle wind and the touch of the last red rays. The automatic doors closed behind her as she turned over her shoulder. Damn. She stared at her reflection, sky almost at dusk in the background. Then came to the conclusion it was too late to go back and ask about the recordings. She had to go home and then to that conference. Before moving out, she checked if she didn’t lose Yoko’s scarf somehow, just to be sure.
I’ll take care of this, sooner or later, she thought at the sight of the blue cloth safely stored in her bag, then zipped it back.