Page 21 of Obsession

"Are you even listening?" Britta glanced at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Of course." I wasn't. I'd been staring at the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder, wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked. "Something about temporal matrices?"

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the display. Good. Better she think me distracted by technical details than know the truth. She was my friend, my student. No matter how much I wanted to pull her into my arms, to finish what almost started in my quarters, I couldn't risk either of our places at the academy.

Her fingers stilled on the controls. “You want to create this simulation to potentially replace the maze, right?”

“I know what happened to your class won’t happen again, can’t happen again,” I said,” but there is no reason why we can’t use that experience to learn and move on. One constant about the academy over the centuries has been change. I think it’s time for us to change again.”

A shudder ran through her body. “I’ll never forget how close I came to dying in there," she said quietly, nodding toward the holochamber. “So, if this simulation means no one else will ever experience that again, then I’m happy to help.”

“This might not be the answer, but I figured we needed to start testing out alternatives. I’ve been researching older methods the academy used for placement." It felt good to focus on something concrete, something that would distract me from the scent of her. "The maze wasn't always used. The Silent Hunt was one of the less problematic alternatives."

She went rigid. "Hunt? That doesn't sound less dangerous."

I ran a hand through my hair, but a few strands flopped back over my forehead. “It was more of a survival course around the old academy. No creatures were released, no deadly gauntlets."

Her lips twitched. "No lava floors?"

I shook my head, grateful for her attempt at humor. "There were booby traps, and instructors tracked down the cadets, but no one fought to the death."

"Small favors," she said from the side of her mouth.

I laughed. “Like I said, this might not be the answer but it’s worth trying.”

“You know on Earth we take aptitude tests for placement.” She didn’t take her eyes off the open panel. “Occasionally intense training programs to weed out candidates.”

“No mazes with alien monsters?” I teased.

She reluctantly laughed while shooting me a side-eye glance. “No mazes, no monsters, no hunts.”

“It’s like you aren’t Drexian at all.”

“Ha ha,” she deadpanned. “Yet we still survived.”

I didn’t mention that one big reason her planet had survived was that the Drexians had been protecting it for decades. Earth technology was vastly inferior to that of the Kronock—who wanted to destroy them—and ours. And our technology and military might had evolved out of necessity. And one of the key factors to our strength was our battle-ready warriors who survived brutal challenges at our academy.

Britta took a step back and cut her gaze to me, a small smile playing on her lips. “So, do you want to check it out?”

I stared at her. “The simulation?” I looked at the doors to the nearest holochamber. “It’s ready now?”

She shrugged. “It's not perfect, but it should be operational." Then her brow wrinkled. “Unless you’d rather wait until it’s completely polished and someone else has tested it.”

I wondered if she had any idea how much her words were a challenge to a Blade? Have someone else test my simulation? “Grekno.”

The crease in her forehead deepened. “You don’t want to go in?”

“No, I do.” I grinned at her. “I don’t want to wait.”

She released a breath and smiled, her entire face lighting up and reminding me again why I’d had an impossible time sleeping.

She tapped the controls to start the program and then to open the doors.

I turned to see steel doors glide apart to reveal—the academy. But even at first glance, it wasn’t the academy I knew. The walls were glossy black and unmarred by the passage of time. There were no nicks, no divots, no marks from holes that had been repaired. Even the smell was different, and the air was colder.

“The old academy was heated exclusively by fire,” Britta said, as if reading my mind. She gestured to the wall sconces that flickered with real flame instead of the artificial one used currently.

I took a tentative step toward the entrance then stopped. I twisted my head to lock eyes with her. “Don’t you want to sample your own work?”

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