Promise

A month had passed since that dinner with Rudolf, and Wilhelm was no closer to understanding why he’d confide that with him, of all people. The two talked on occasion, but only casually, and any glimpse of Rudolf’s near treasonous opinion had vanished. He was back to being the stalwart, the ever-reliable ace pilot of the Cyberitters. Levin took to his instruction better than Wilhelm imagined, despite less freedom. The rest of Squad Eight rarely if ever spoke to Wilhelm, but Levin still reached out and made it a point to spend time together each week. Can’t shake old friends that easy, huh? Wilhelm thought. Still, I’m grateful.

His new NCO, Mayu, had none of the makings of his old friend, though. With a stunning combination of sarcasm and terseness, Wilhelm often wondered when Squad Five might revolt against him. That said, they showed no signs of dissent. Despite her grousing, Mayu passed on every order faithfully, and on good days, she admitted that Wilhelm’s strategies had merit.

It was on one such good day that Wilhelm had tasked her with leading the squad herself, for a moment, while he convened with Mathilde. She drilled her Squad Three right next to him, on that same unbearable tarmac that Wilhelm had grown to tolerate. The summer’s peak had passed since then. The familiar black concrete was almost cool today, to Wilhelm’s surprise. Across the tarmac, planes came and went with alarming frequency: a sign of the battle to come. In a week’s time, the captain said, their assault on New Moscow would begin.

Mathilde stepped out of her cybersuit, and the two sat again under the same shade, staring through the heat haze at the work of their subordinates. Today, there was no haze, no mirage rippling the air. It was pleasant: blue skies, fluffy white clouds. An ideal day.

“Your squad’s looking pretty good, Wil. Looks like I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Wil snorted. “Of course you don’t. Your team’s like a damn machine.”

“Well, yeah, but I meant that I don’t have to be concerned about anyone in Squad Five. Before the last couple days, I thought they might screw things up once we’re on the march.”

“Nah, if anything, it’d be my fault. They had good fundamentals: the tough part was making them work well with my pace, instead of how Florent did things. It’s thanks to Mayu that they’ve figured it out so fast. I don’t think she likes me much, but she sets the tone well.”

“Well, she’ll come around, just like I did,” Mathilde said. Then, she looked over to Wilhelm, eyes narrowed slightly. “You know, you’re sounding a little strange, Wil. Almost like you’re… satisfied, with where you’re at.”

Wilhelm tilted his head. “Uh, shouldn’t I be? I’m doing pretty well.”

“True, but… There’s always room to improve, right?”

“Sure, but my command skills are fine, and my piloting can’t get that much better in a week. What else is there for me to do?”

Mathilde looked a little closer at Wilhelm, making him squirm a little. “Actually, I’ve got an idea. Come with me after this to the main compound, okay? You might learn a thing or two.”

Quizzical, Wilhelm decided not to ask what. “Sure, I guess. Why not?”

____________________________________________________________________________

A few hours later, he learned why not: Mathilde had taken him to the fortress’s gym, a place he had mostly avoided outside of the basics. After all, in a cybersuit, the suit’s strength was your strength, and its agility was your agility. What was the point in wasting valuable time here, instead of spending his hours elsewhere?

He’d thrown on a simple t-shirt and shorts, something light like Mathilde recommended. There were plenty of people here at this hour: most were common soldiers who actually needed the strength to maneuver their exosuits efficiently. In the corner, he saw Rudolf at the bench press machine, completely focused on his own routine. I’ll leave him alone.

Dumbbells lined the main room, with red benches all around it. In the mirrored walls lining the rooms, Wilhelm saw his own body: moderately toned, but nothing that would impress anyone in this line of work. He blamed his cybersuit for that, whenever Rudolf gave him grief for it, but it only ever convinced himself.

Mathilde had booked a separate room available to higher ranked officers, and when Wilhelm walked into it, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Unlike the other room, this one was simple and unadorned. The only notable part? A large, soft mat in the center of it.

Standing at the center of that was Mathilde. She wore a long, red shirt over her gym clothes, and in her arms was another blue shirt. She had left her shoes off the mat. When she noticed Wilhelm, she tossed the blue shirt his way and motioned for him to come closer.

“Took you long enough, Wil. You want to know your weakness? It’s your combat readiness when things go wrong. That’s what we’re here to work on, today.”

Wilhelm looked reluctantly at the gear. “What do you mean?”

“Say you dropped that sword, or your gun ran out of ammo, somehow. How do you plan on defending yourself, without a weapon in your hands?”

“Realistically? I’d get one from someone else, or I’d just run. One of those two.”

Mathilde shook her head. “If you’re close, that’s a death wish. When it comes down to it, you need to be able to fight with your bare hands… Or, I guess, with the cybersuit itself.”

“Uhm,” Wilhelm said. “I don’t know about this-”

“Just give it a try, alright?” Mathilde asked. “If it’s too much, then you can leave. Just… You’ve become reliant on the cybersuit’s weapons, instead of your own. I want to help you.”

Wilhelm sighed reluctantly. Then, he slowly put on the long shirt and walked over to Mathilde, who moved him to the other side of the mat. She flashed a smile as he got ready.

“Good, you're not chicken. Then let’s get started, Wil. I'll keep the rules brief: no blows to the head, throws and grabs allowed. First to fall loses. Any questions before we begin?”

“Just one,” Wilhelm said. “You think you’ve got a shot against me? I might not be as well-trained as you, but I’m still a guy. It’s not a fair fight.” The first rule of combat: get into their head.

Any joy she’d shown had disappeared, and her eyes turned into slits. Oh, shit. I should-

“You’re right: it’s not a fair fight.” She began to move, stalking around him. When he moved close, she threw a kick at his leg: a light one, meant to make distance. Mathilde repeated this, again and again, until Wilhelm wised up enough to take on a new tactic. 

He rushed in close, and when the low kick came, Wilhelm stepped backwards rapidly. Only enough to dodge the blow, he rocked back forward and threw a punch at Mathilde's shoulder, aiming to land one, clean hit while Mathilde was unsteady. Let's make this quick!

Suddenly, Mathilde grabbed his arm and leaned into him with her back to his chest. She pulled, and pulled, and he flew over her, landing hard on his back. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, too winded to breathe. She looked at him with a combination of fury and bemusement.

“I’m sorry… Didn’t mean it. I was just… talking shit,” Wilhelm choked out.

The mask of fury vanished. “I knew that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let you off that easy.”

Wilhelm took a moment to regain his voice. “That was… judo, or something?”

“Or something.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“My dad taught me, before he got sick,” Mathilde said, her smile fading. Then, she laid down next to him. “Why go for my shoulder? That’s not an easy strike, compared to... anywhere else.”

"…Just didn't want to hit you anywhere that it'd really hurt, is all.”

“Well, aren't you a gentleman?” she said. “...I'd have won anyway, so it's fine, I guess.”

Then, she paused for a moment.

"Hey, Wil?"

“Yeah?”

“What are we?” 

Wilhelm's answer came slowly. "Right now... We're partners. One day, when things are easier, I might have a different answer.

“With the Red Reaper?”

“Yeah.”

Mathilde sighed, but smiled despite herself. “I understand, Wil. Really. We’ve both got a lot on our minds, right now.” She helped pull Wilhelm up, leaning in close to him once he rose. “Don’t make me wait too long, though. Otherwise, well...”

Wilhelm nodded, finishing her thought. Who knows how much time we have left?