NOVEL NEXT Chapter 52: Code Ajax
Somewhere off away from all the blood on the same island, kelvin sat down by a tree.
Kelvin had chosen this spot carefully - far enough from the chaos that he could focus, but close enough to run if needed. The forest here was quieter, the only sounds being his own ragged breathing and the occasional distant echo of combat.
'Always three steps ahead, aren't you, Eclipse?' he thought, looking at the modified chip in his trembling hands. The memory of Noah pressing it into his palm just hours ago played in his mind.
He hadn't missed their homeroom teacher's strange interaction with Noah before boarding. Miss Brooks pulling him aside, that quick exchange, Noah's hand slipping into his pocket. At the time, it had seemed odd - Miss Brooks never played favorites. But Noah... Noah had a way of making even the most straight-laced teachers bend their rules.
'You knew I'd figure it out,' Kelvin thought, carefully beginning to integrate the chip into his damaged bracelet. 'Knew I'd remember seeing that exchange.'
Noah's words from earlier echoed in his head: "Just in case." That's all he'd said when he handed over the chip. Two words, but they'd carried the weight of trust. Of certainty. Noah had known exactly what Kelvin could do with this tech - known that between the two of them, the technopath had the better chance of breaking through whatever interference they might face.
'While you run off to fight that thing.' Kelvin's hands stilled for a moment. 'Giving me your only backup plan.'
He'd done the math. They all had. Against a Harbinger, their survival chances were microscopic. With rescue? Maybe 15% if help arrived in the first hour. 10% in the second. After that...
Kelvin shook his head, refocusing on the delicate work of fusion. Rescue itself was pointless unless they dealt with the immediate threat. More casualties would just pile up. Even if a rescue team arrived right now, they'd be walking into a slaughter.
'That's why you gave this to me, isn't it?' His fingers worked carefully, connecting the modified chip to his bracelet's core systems. 'Because you knew I'd run the numbers. Knew I'd understand that gathering survivors was just collecting targets.'
The distant sound of explosions made him work faster. They were running out of time. Lila's cave of injured students was just a waiting room for death unless someone got word out. Unless someone made the hard choice.
Noah had made his choice - facing down that monster to buy them time. Now Kelvin had to make his.
'Sorry, old friend,' he thought, pressing his fingers against the newly integrated tech. 'But if only one of us makes it out of this mess...'
He left the thought unfinished as he began channeling his ability, prepared to push beyond what any first-gen technopath should attempt. The pain started immediately, sharp and burning, but he pushed through it.
After all, Noah had trusted him with this. Trusted him to find a way.
'You're fighting so we live. I'm not about to let you down'
"…"
That was only a few hours ago. Now, now kelvin wasn't so sure.
He stared at his shattered combat bracelet, blood dripping from his nose onto the cracked display. He'd been at this for over an hour now, trying to push his abilities far beyond what a first-generation technopath should attempt.
'Not like I have a choice,' he thought, wiping the blood with his sleeve.
The piece of tech Noah had slipped him earlier was now fused into what remained of his combat bracelet - a last-ditch modification that had taken precious minutes he wasn't sure they had. But Lila's plan of gathering survivors... it wouldn't work. Not with what he knew.
A Harbinger never hunted alone. Never.
His fingers trembled as he pressed them against the bracelet's core, channeling his ability once more. The pain hit immediately - sharp, burning, like someone had stuck hot wires into his brain.
This kind of deep-system override was "strong" second or third-generation technopath territory. The kind of stuff that got you fast-tracked to advanced classes, not something a first-gen like him should even think about trying.
'Sorry, Noah,' he thought, remembering how his friend had pressed the modified chip into his hand. 'I know you meant this as my way out. But if I don't warn them...'
Another attempt. Another failure. There was an interference, a signal jammer.
'The signal jammers are too strong. Most likely placed strategically in Cannadah's orbit,' He could feel them up there, a web of interference that trapped them all on this island like bugs in a jar.
Blood pooled in his palm as he tried again. His vision blurred, doubled, then came back into focus. The forest around him spun lazily.
'This must be what it feels like,' he thought hazily, 'when you push too far.'
He'd seen it happen to others - technopaths who crossed their limits. Some never recovered. Some forgot how to use their abilities entirely. But right now, none of that mattered.
"Come on," he whispered, fingers pressing harder against the broken device. "Just... one... signal..."
The world tilted sideways. Or maybe he was the one tilting. His power reached out, searching for gaps in the interference. There had to be one. Had to be...
There.
A tiny break in the pattern. A millisecond where the jammers' cycles didn't quite overlap.
Kelvin forced everything he had into that gap. Every bit of power, every scrap of strength. The modified chip in his bracelet burned hot enough to scar as he pushed a single word through:
[AJAX]
The backlash hit like a physical blow. Kelvin felt something pop in his head, tasted copper on his tongue. As he slumped against a tree, the broken bracelet smoking against his wrist, he barely registered the warm trickle of blood from his ears.
'Your move, Miss Brooks,' was his last thought before unconsciousness claimed him. 'Make it count.'
----
The Eastern Academy bustled with its usual afternoon activity. Students shuffled between classes, their chatter filling the ancient hallways. In the courtyard, a group of second year students practiced their defensive formations while their instructor called out corrections. Everything was normal. Peaceful. Ordinary.
In her office, Miss Brooks stared at the stack of performance evaluations on her desk, but her mind was elsewhere. Her fingers kept straying to the drawer where she kept her emergency com unit – the twin to the one she'd slipped Noah before departure.
'Stop it,' she chided herself. 'They're fine. They're all fine.'
But the knot in her stomach wouldn't ease. She'd seen too much in her years of teaching not to recognize when something felt wrong. And something about this expedition had felt wrong from the start.
A commotion in the hallway drew her attention. Rapid footsteps approached, too fast for normal administrative business. Her hand instinctively moved toward the drawer again.
The door burst open without a knock. Officer Dave stood in the doorway, his usually composed face tight with tension. Behind him, two more security personnel hovered, hands on their weapons.
"Ma'am," Dave's voice was clipped, professional. "We have a Code Ajax."
The blood drained from Miss Brooks' face. The knot in her stomach transformed into a block of ice. She'd given Noah that modified com unit hoping, praying it would never be needed. It was illegal, of course – teachers weren't supposed to interfere with expeditions. But after losing almost losing two students in the last one...
"How bad?" she managed to ask, already reaching for her emergency kit.
Dave's expression said everything. "The signal was weak. Corrupted. But it came from Cannadah."
"Coordinates?"
"Northern quarter. Near the..."
"The base" Miss Brooks finished, her voice hollow. She'd argued against sending first-years there. Had been overruled. And now...
She stood, abandoning the paperwork. "Alert the response team. And get me commander Albright!"
"Ma'am, protocol states..."
"Protocol?" Her voice cracked like a whip. "I have students out there, Officer Daves. Students who just triggered an emergency beacon that shouldn't have been possible to trigger unless everything else had failed. Unless they were..."
She couldn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to. The look on Daves's face told her he understood.
"Get me Albright!" she repeated, softer now. "And pray we're not too late."
As Dave rushed to comply, Miss Brooks stared out her window at the peaceful academy grounds. Somewhere out there, beyond the atmosphere, beyond the void of space, her students were fighting for their lives.
'Hold on,' she thought, watching the emergency response ships already rising from their hangars. 'Just hold on a little longer.'
The alarms began to sound, and the ordinary afternoon at Eastern Academy became anything but ordinary.