Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 33: Suspicion

Chapter 33: Suspicion

The day’s training had finally wrapped up, and everyone looked wiped out.

After forcing themselves to eat something, Zinnia stretched her neck and asked, "Hey Lyra, heading back to the dorm?"

"I’ve got something to do, you go ahead," Lyra answered, then slipped into the crowd.

Vivian, rubbing her sore wrist, grumbled, "She’s walking around with a shaved head. She should at least wear a wig." She waited for a reaction, but when she turned, she noticed Mandy looking worried.

Mandy hadn’t passed her shooting test and needed extra practice.

Vivian didn’t like seeing her so anxious, so she pulled Mandy over and said, "It’s just shooting practice, no need to stress. Come on, I’ll help you with some extra practice."

Mandy managed a small smile, "Thanks, Vivian." For Mandy, who didn’t start training young, hard work was her only option to catch up.

Lyra returned to the dorm just before lights out. Spending so much time together, Zinnia could tell she was in a good mood and quickly asked, "Did something good happen? You seem pretty happy."

"Just training," Lyra said. ’Is it that obvious?’ She touched her shaved head, smiled.

And then, she headed to her room for a quick shower and to throw her clothes in the wash.

The next morning at five, they all gathered in the usual spot for a weighted long run.

Under the faint morning light, Webber looked particularly stern. "After yesterday’s update, starting today, any rule-breaking or failures will lead to losing credits. Stop joking around!"

As he spoke, he glanced at the noticeably shorter spot in the lineup. "Especially some of you!"

The "called out" Lyra just blinked, pretending not to hear the giggles.

As they started running, she fell behind again. The others were a bit speechless but soon surprised—Lyra kept running, slow but steady, and the monitoring drone overhead didn’t react at all. It was like she had changed over night.

Webber was sunbathing at the finish line. When he saw the surveillance footage, he immediately set down his coffee, looking doubtful.

He hopped on his hoverboard and zoomed over. "Lyra, step out of line!"

Lyra stopped, walking from the back of the group to the side of the road.

"Here... cough cough," she responded, looking pretty worn out.

Webber’s sharp eyes scanned her up and down. "Roll up your pant leg."

Lyra didn’t budge. "Sir, time is precious."

"Any delay will cost you credits."

"It’ll also delay lunch."

"Follow my orders!" Webber shouted.

Lyra sighed, untied her boots, and rolled up her pant leg. Her fair, slim leg was clean.

’Nothing?’ Webber still didn’t believe it and contacted the drone staff through his earpiece. "This is Webber, request to check the monitoring drone’s status."

The response came quickly, "No anomalies detected."

’This was maddening!’

Webber glared at Lyra, who showed no expression but had a look in her eyes that said, "Are we done yet?"

"Get back in line!"

"Yes, sir." Lyra slowly rejoined the group, a slight smile on her face as she turned around.

The bright silver elastic metal extended along her thigh, boosting her.

The monitoring drone overhead flashed and then disappeared.

Webber, seeing it was still early, decided to pay a visit to the tech department. As soon as he walked in, he grabbed the head of the department and demanded, "Is there any way to make the monitoring robots go haywire?"

The head tech, a man with glasses, looked surprised for a moment before replying, "Well, if you put it that way, there are several possibilities." He continued, "The program could’ve been tampered with, or someone could’ve intercepted the signal... there are lots of methods."

Webber, not being tech-savvy, had always thought the monitoring system was foolproof. Now he realized there were numerous potential loopholes.

"But," the tech head added, "the robots are handled by specific personnel, so tampering with them directly is unlikely. Based on what you’ve described, someone might have intercepted the signal."

With that, the tech expert got intrigued and started checking the backend for the robot of Class One of School of Combat and Commanding.

"This is a bit tricky..." he muttered.

Webber pressed, "I’ll leave it to you; just figure out what’s wrong." He knew Lyra’s physical capabilities well enough to be certain she couldn’t manage such intense training on her own. This young woman was clearly cheating.

The next day, during the weighted long run, everyone in Class One completed the task on time.

Normally, this was expected at the School of Combat and Commanding, but today everyone was looking at Lyra, the pale young woman who was usually an exception.

"Wow, Lyra, you made it today!" Zinnia exclaimed, giving her a big hug with a satisfied grin.

Lyra nearly got squished by the hug but nodded seriously. "I’ll keep working hard."

Webber nearly staggered in frustration.

"We’ll meet at the shooting range at one this afternoon. Dismissed!" Webber announced. After most people had left, he sent a message through his opticomputer.

Later, while getting their meals, Lyra noticed a young man staring at her. She walked over with her tray and asked, "Something on your mind?"

Thierry scratched his head, grinning sheepishly, "Uh, can I join you guys for lunch?"

Lyra quickly moved her tray, avoiding getting any sweat from his hair on her food.

"Sure," Vivian answered eagerly, nudging Lyra aside. "By the way, we haven’t talked much since you joined. How’s Cohen doing these days?"

’So, you’re interested in me because of my cousin,’ Thierry thought, chuckling. "His actions are classified; even I don’t know."

That quieted Vivian down. During the meal, the group was mostly silent except for Zinnia.

Thierry glanced at Lyra’s big plate of food and commented, "You’ve got quite an appetite; you eat almost as much as I do, and I’m a big guy."

Vivian chimed in, "Aren’t you worried about gaining weight, eating all that?"

The mood was a bit awkward. Mandy fiddled with her fork, unsure what to say, while Lyra kept eating as if nothing was amiss.

After lunch, Thierry tried to tag along with Lyra, but a male classmate pulled him aside.

"Thierry, moving fast, huh?" Another classmate nudged him playfully. "How many numbers did you get? Don’t keep them all to yourself; share some with the rest of us, okay?"

"Ah, I’m not into that," Thierry said quickly, feeling a bit flustered. He wasn’t sure what the instructor was thinking, asking him to keep an eye on Lyra and see if she interacted with students from other departments.

But the group of guys wasn’t letting him off the hook.

"We’ve got the prettiest girls in our class, with Lyra and Vivian. Zinnia and Mandy aren’t bad either. Who are you trying to fool, saying you’re not interested? Come on, spill it!"

’Lyra?’ Thierry shuddered at the thought. ’Calling her that way, aren’t they afraid they’ll get beaten up?’

But to these guys, Lyra was just a petite, gentle, and cute girl. They couldn’t see the same intense, capable person Thierry had seen during training.