Pax Machina (Mechhaven Book 1)

by Greg Sorber

  “We’re here to help,” Connie said, turning to Bastion. “Let’s show Artie and Larry how professionals make it happen.”

  Bastion lifted his oversized foot and stomped on the ground; the concussive force knocked any nearby xenrats senseless. Connie converted her arm into a pointed spear-like form and skewered the defenseless pests. Misty caught her breath, Connie converting her arm into an obvious weapon like a gun or a cannon would violate Pax Machina. Some of the Rybeth Accords compliance inspectors might even consider converting her arm into a tool that looked like a weapon, a violation as well. With the inhibitor program that was installed during her DECOM process, Connie shouldn’t have been able to convert her arm into anything resembling a weapon. How was she getting around the programming? Misty needed to check with Connie about that. But the task was getting done quicker and since Therapy, who was the real stickler for following the Rybeth Accords to the letter, wasn’t nearby, it was a problem she’d deal with later.

  Lancer withdrew a metal pipe from the bed of the hover truck, spun it around his back, and then used it as a lance to run down fleeing xenrats. What did she expect? He enjoyed the challenge. When he first arrived on Mechhaven, she’d reviewed his service records. Along with being a decorated warrior, he’d competed in and won many tournaments in honor of his king.

  The three mechs made quick work of the remaining xenrats. Misty thanked them and bid them good night. Bastion and Connie left toward Bastion’s cavern while Lancer traveled with Doc and Larry back to the Village.

  Dusk approached, and Misty still needed to turn in her daily reports to Therapy. Otherwise, he’d give her another lecture on the importance of meeting deadlines. Misty appreciated Therapy’s thorough nature. He made her life easier. But the mech was a relentless nag. Before she tackled any reports, she planned to spend an hour in the Aquaponics Module. She found that surrounding herself with actual biological life was soothing and relieved some of the stress of living on an inhospitable planetoid like Mechhaven.

  Misty’s communicator beeped. It was Therapy. Great, he’s getting on my case already. “Hello, Therapy. If it’s about the reports, I just finished up with the xenrats and I’m heading back to the Command Center.”

  Therapy’s voice always sounded proper, but she sensed a sarcastic tone transferring over the communicator. “I’m sure you were rushing back, eager to get your reports submitted, but they can wait until the morning.”

  “Are you joking?” Misty asked. Therapy never postponed a deadline.

  “We just received a signal from the Beacon. We have an arrival, inbound.”

  “How long until it gets here?” Misty checked the time on her datapad.

  “It’s moving fast, but I estimate it will take another two hours before it makes planetfall.”

  “It will be dark soon,” Misty said. She folded her arms, trying to stay warm. The temperature had already dropped as the weak star descended beyond the horizon. “But that’s enough time for me to grab my jacket from my quarters. Will you be joining me for the Initial?”

  “You know I enjoy being part of the Initial. I designed the process, if you recall.”

  “Yes, I recall. How can I forget? You remind me every chance you get.”

  Therapy ignored her remark. “As much as I enjoy being part of that process, I am due for a recharge cycle and diagnostics check. I will switch to standby status for the night.”

  “Suit yourself. I just thought I’d ask. Have a good night, Therapy. Misty out.”

  Misty disconnected from Therapy and tapped the contact icon for Ajax. He answered her call.

  “Yes, Misty?”

  “How’s it going with Artie?”

  “He’s hooked up to the diagnostics scanner and secured for the night. I’ll recalibrate his compensators in the morning. What’s going on?”

  “Therapy alerted me to an incoming signal from the Beacon. Meet me at the end of the Landing Pad so we can greet our newest citizen.”

  “I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m done,” Ajax said. “Should I bring Dennis?”

  “No.” Misty said. Her answer was a little too fast. “We only need two for the Initial.”

  “Misty, you can’t avoid him forever.”

  “I know.” Misty sighed. But I can sure as hell try.

  In her quarters, Misty changed out of the coveralls she’d worn all day. A crust of dried green xenrat slime mixed with dust covered the gray outfit. It wasn’t a pleasant color combination. Between the disgusting color and the horrendous smell, the coveralls needed laundering, though it might have made more sense to toss them in the incinerator. As tempting as the idea was, fresh uniforms wouldn’t arrive for months. Unreliable shipping was one downside of being so far away from the core systems. She had plenty of uniforms at the moment, but if she ruined many more, that would change. She could only burn so many.

  Misty slipped into a fresh pair of coveralls and grabbed a charcoal gray bomber jacket for extra warmth. Nights were chilly on Mechhaven. She stowed the stun pistol she’d used throughout the day and selected a different sidearm from the weapons locker. The one in her quarters was one of three stashed around the Main Compound. She found it somewhat disingenuous greeting newly arrived mechs while armed, since they had to pledge not to take up arms again to be granted Pax Machina. But it was out of an abundance of caution that she greeted the mechs armed. Many were still battle-ready when they arrived. Others, like Bastion, had experienced trauma during the war, and were not in the best mental condition on arrival.

  She doubted she’d be able to harm the mechs with the rounds she carried. At most, they would get the mech’s attention. To do any actual damage to a mech, she’d need something more powerful. Misty wasn’t overly concerned. Since arriving on Mechhaven three years ago, she’d only ever drawn her weapon for practice or to blast xenrats or growlings.

  Misty exited her quarters and bumped into a security bot. If it were sentient, she’d say it had looked just as surprised as she felt. It paused and then scanned her face. Its facial recognition subroutine validated her authorization to be in that specific location. The security bot nodded in acknowledgement and proceeded on its patrol. Security bots were unnecessary on the sparsely populated planetoid, but a stipulation in the Rybeth Accords required that the weapons and munitions removed from mechs be maintained in a secure location. The security bots fulfilled part of that requirement.

  Upon arriving on Mechhaven, mechs declared Pax Machina, at which point they underwent a decommissioning process and were disarmed. Ajax stored their disarmed weapon systems and leftover munitions in a secure location, until either Dennis rendered them inert, or Chuck transported them off-world. The signatories of the Rybeth Accords deemed those munitions a risk should any of the mechs decide they’d grown tired of peace and wanted to rearm and cause mischief elsewhere in the galaxy. It wasn’t a likely scenario, but the rules were the rules.

  Compared to mechs, security bots had limited capabilities. They followed pre-programmed routes or conducted random patrols within set geographic ranges. They alerted Misty to pest problems like xenrats and growlings. Every so often they kicked nosy mechs out of restricted areas. Armed with stun weapons, the security bots zapped any pests, unruly mechs, or anyone else that caused trouble.

  Mechs had their own hierarchy and were not fond of the security bots. Mechs considered themselves at the top. They were sentient beings who had their own thoughts, feelings, dreams, and fears, just like any other sentient life-form. Security bots had limited artificial intelligence, which assisted with their job duties and helped them assess friend from foe, but to the mechs, security bots were only a slight step above maintenance bots. The maintenance bots were assigned the most menial tasks and were generally ignored. To mechs, maintenance bots were little more than advanced appliances and barely acknowledged them.

  Misty crossed the Main Compound at a brisk pace. Besides the security bots patrolling and the maintenance bots going about their duties, there were no
other activities scheduled. Off-duty mechs returned to the Village or stopped at The Black Hole to socialize. Dennis would be there, mixing his chemical concoctions the mechs loved so much. Either that, or he’d be getting into trouble, no doubt. Not that it mattered. Beyond his professional duties, she no longer had any use for him.

  While she waited at the edge of the Landing Pad, Misty messaged Ajax. His reply returned in moments, letting her know he was still wrapping up with Artie and that he would join her as soon as he’d finished. She glanced upward, admiring how the stars lit up the night sky. An atmospheric anomaly made dust rise during the day to create a hazy overcast sky. During the night, the dust settled, and Mechhaven’s remoteness and thin atmosphere made it ideal for stargazing. She’d have to wait for another night to enjoy the brilliant starscape. With an incoming mech, it would be business over pleasure.

  She pulled an antiquated datapad from a cargo pocket on the side of her coveralls. The datapad was a relic manufactured before the war. When she arrived on Mechhaven and discovered the state of the equipment, she requisitioned current hardware. After several more requests, and three years later, she was still waiting. Mechhaven wasn’t on anyone’s priority list. It would be nice to have modern equipment. But her datapad still worked, so she shouldn’t complain too much. She accessed the text of the Rybeth Accords, specifically the section on the Initial.

  At the end of the war, the governments of the Alliance of Independent Systems, TexaNova, the Arcturan Monarchies, and the Imperium hammered out a peace treaty. Within the Rybeth Accords, as the treaty became known, were protocols for dealing with practically every diplomatic situation that could arise. The pressing concern for the signatories was the downsizing of their militaries.

  Each faction had used mechs to inflict great devastation on the others during the war. They established Mechhaven as a refuge for sentient mechs to retire and live out the rest of their days. Though Misty sometimes wondered whether the creation of Mechhaven was more about keeping reminders of the war out of sight than for any benevolent intention towards the mechs.

  One major stipulation of the Rybeth Accords was that mechs never take up arms again. To keep the multiple governments and sub-factions of those governments appeased, they’d established strict protocols. Misty’s attaché mech, Therapy, was her official liaison to the Accords Compliance Committee. He assisted—no, make that guided, or even forced—Misty to follow all required protocols.

  Whenever a new mech arrived on Mechhaven, Misty, or whoever she designated, such as Ajax, Dennis, or even Therapy, officiated an intake ceremony. They called it the Initial and divided it into four parts; the Welcome, the Requirements, the Request, and the Acceptance. As specified in the protocols, these steps followed a strict outline and were recorded for later review by a treaty compliance officer. They hadn’t received an audit during the three years she’d been on Mechhaven. According to Therapy, that meant it was even more critical not to deviate from the established protocols.

  “Hey, boss.” Ajax said.

  Misty didn’t respond. The intricate language and details outlined in the protocols mesmerized her. Or maybe she fell asleep. A few moments later, she looked up and acknowledged Ajax. “Hey.”

  “Interesting reading?” he asked.

  Misty shook her head. “I’m amazed at how bureaucrats from four antagonistic governments could work together so well to make a simple interaction so complicated.”

  “I heard it was the bureaucrats that started the war. Then, when they grew tired of it, they ended it,” Ajax said. He shrugged and said, “but I’m just a dumb mechanic, so what do I know?”

  “Whoever started and ended the war is above both of our pay grades. We can let the Archivists sort that out. And, you’re definitely not just a dumb mechanic.” Misty scanned the horizon and picked out the Beacon, standing tall and flashing brightly in the distance. The war had affected everyone, but she didn’t want to dwell on it. Her left hand slipped under her right sleeve, where her fingers traced the outline of the name laser-etched into her skin on the inside of her forearm. Too many memories. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Care to guess what model of mech it will be? Will it be another LAR or ART-E?” Ajax asked.

  “It will be a SPARK-C.” Misty named a rare mech, of which there were none on Mechhaven.

  “That’s an interesting choice. I think it’ll be a CYRO-D. We don’t have any of those either,” Ajax said. The CYRO-D was an even rarer mech than the SPARK-C.

  “Not likely, but a fun choice.” Misty checked the timer on her datapad. “Let’s wait and see. It shouldn’t be long now. Therapy said two hours, and it’s been about that.”

  Ajax produced a pair of binoculars from a bag slung over his shoulder. He examined the sky. “So far, I don’t see anything.”

  “Keep looking,” Misty said. “With all the stars lighting up the sky, they’re hard to identify until they enter the atmosphere.”

  Mechs sometimes arrived on regular ships that touched down on the Landing Pad. They received advanced notification of these, as the mechs were part of the ship’s manifest. Others were launched from special pods as ships passed through the star system and jettisoned them without deviating from their planned courses.

  “There, I see something now!” Ajax adjusted the binoculars. “It’s coming in fast. It had better start decelerating.”

  Misty cursed. She grabbed the binoculars from Ajax. “Let me look,” she said. Then she adjusted the binoculars and sighed. “It’s coming in too fast.”

  “I hate whenever this happens,” Ajax said. “It will take days or even weeks of me patching them back together before we can do the Initial.”

  They waited silently for the incoming mech. At first it was only visible with the binoculars, but soon it became brighter, and then visible to their naked eyes. It made landfall near the Beacon, away from any structures, just as it should; they didn’t want something crashing into and damaging their only landing pad. The impact generated a loud boom. A visible spray of detritus scattered in all directions.

  As the dust settled, Ajax turned to Misty. “Did you see any debris from a landing pod?”

  Misty shook her head. “No, I didn’t see any thrusters fire to slow the descent, either.”

  “I wonder if there’s anything left for us to welcome?”

  Misty handed the binoculars back to Ajax. “Look closer. See if you can spot anything.”

  “There’s still too much dust. I’m switching to infrared.”

  “Anything now?”

  “Something’s stirring, but I can’t identify it.” Ajax passed the binoculars back to Misty. “Here, you look.”

  Misty raised the binoculars. “There’s movement, but that’s all I can tell.”

  “What type of mech can survive an impact that rough?” Ajax asked.

  “Whatever it is, it’s not in a hurry. Maybe the hard landing scrambled its sensors.” Misty lowered the binoculars. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s go see for ourselves.”

  Beyond the Landing Pad was a dreary barren landscape: the natural gray blandness of the planetoid M3CH-VN, now called Mechhaven. Misty and Ajax activated flashlights. They wanted to avoid tripping over the scattered rocks or stepping into holes left by xenrats or growlings. As the chief mechanic, Ajax repaired damage to the residents of Mechhaven. Many of the repairs were caused by missteps into those holes.

  “Misty, do you want to change your guess?” Ajax asked as he followed her. “A SPARK-C isn’t strong enough to survive an impact that violent.”

  “Do you want to change yours?” Misty asked. “A CYRO-D couldn’t survive that either.”

  Ajax stepped quickly to the side, avoiding a potential ankle twisting hole. “No, I’ll keep mine as CYRO-D, but an Imperium Legion class mech might have survived. They’re the toughest mechs I’ve seen.”

  “They are though,” Misty said as she avoided another hole, “but we haven’t had any new Imperium mechs arrive since the Le
gion got here about two and half years ago. The Imperium doesn’t let many of their mechs leave.”

  “How can I forget?” Ajax asked. “That was just after I started. Talk about one heck of an initiation. One hundred mechs arriving all at once! You and Dennis had to help Doc and I. We worked around the clock for over a month decommissioning all of them.”

  “I remember.” Misty winced at the mention of Dennis. She needed to get over it—over him—but it wasn’t easy. She looked through the binoculars again. “The dust is clearing. I see something. It’s bright—too bright.”

  “What is it?” Ajax asked. “It’s lighting up the entire area!”

  “I’m not sure, and I didn’t bring eye protection!” Misty shaded her eyes with her hand.

  As quick as the light had appeared, it dimmed again, leaving a distinct image burned into Misty’s vision. She heard footsteps. The footsteps started unevenly, but steadied as they came closer. A silhouette of the approaching mech became visible. Misty ran through a mental list of mechs she recognized without referring to her datapad, but so far, she couldn’t place it.

  Ajax interrupted her thoughts and shook her arm. “Misty, I know what it is!”

  She’d never heard Ajax sound so excited. “What is it?”

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see one. Everyone says they were all destroyed by the end of the war.”

  “An Archangel?” Misty asked. That explained the image burned into her vision.

  “Yes, an Archangel-777, if I’m not mistaken.” He ran his hands over his head and said, “there weren’t many constructed, so I’ve never seen one in person.”

  “Me neither.” Misty watched the mech walk closer. The Archangel-777 was the most advanced mech of the Alliance of Independent Systems. Affectionately called The Avenging Angel; they’d helped to even the odds when the AOIS and TexaNova faced the massed forces of the Imperium and the Arcturan Monarchies. From all accounts, they’d done their job well.