by James Walker
“Right back at you,” Vic replied.
“Hey, don't let appearances fool you,” Eliot said, still keeping Vic pinned with his meaty arm. “This kid's a beast. He was just an ordinary civilian when he got caught in Spacy's attempt to blast us to smithereens. They were in full-on purge mode and he got caught in the middle, no weapons, no training, nothing. What do you think he did?”
“What?” Cena asked, eyebrows arched.
“Well, most people would have just crapped their pants and died, wouldn't they?” Eliot gave Vic a painful slap on the shoulder. “But not this guy. He climbed into a damaged exosuit—he's got a civilian operator's license—and started shooting up every Spacy drone in sight. He wasn't taking no shit from anybody.”
Cena whistled, clearly impressed.
“And that's not all,” Eliot went on. “He fought one-on-one with a Spacy augment in a state of the art military-grade suit. Then later, when we ran into a bunch of drug smugglers, he picked up a gun and helped us shoot our way out like a badass. You'd never think he hadn't even touched a gun just a couple days before that.”
Vic flushed with embarrassment. “I was just—”
“That's pretty amazing.” Cena crossed her arms and looked at Vic with new respect. “So you're an exosuit operator, huh?”
“Well, yeah,” Vic said, struggling to talk through Eliot's crushing grip. “Just civilian models, though.”
“Doesn't sound like you let that stop you.” Cena called over her shoulder, “Hey Captain, we should see if we can talk them into giving this one to us.”
Captain Tinubu came forward with a politely inquiring expression. “What's that, Sergeant?”
“This kid.” Cena nodded at Vic. “Sounds like he's some kind of hotshot exosuit pilot. I think he'd make the perfect addition to our team.”
“'Our' team?” Vic repeated. “Then are you...?”
Tinubu smiled. “Sergeant Northwood happens to be the top gun in the Thunderbirds, the Greenwings' exosuit squadron.”
Cena puffed out her chest and smiled with pride.
“Really?” Now it was Vic's turn to regard his counterpart with new respect. “I'd never have guessed.”
“Hey, what's with the attitude?” Cena said in mock affront. “You of all people should know better than to judge folks by appearances.”
“She's got you there, kid,” Eliot said, smirking.
Vic tried to retort, but only managed a muffled gagging noise.
“For heaven's sake, Sergeant,” Esther's voice came from behind, “let the poor boy go before you choke him to death.”
Eliot glanced over his shoulder, then, at the look in Esther's eyes, released Vic from his vice grip and laughed nervously.
“Hey, just a little roughhousing between guys, Doc,” he said. “Nothing to get excited about.”
At that moment, the the door to the control room opened and the chatter died down as all eyes turned to watch the officers emerge. Childers cleared his throat and stepped forward to address the troops while Pierson and Guntar remained standing to either side of him, stone-faced.
“Colonel Artega and Major Cutter have filled me in on the situation,” he began. “Greenwings, you recall those rumors of Orochi trying to appropriate an important object from a Union research facility? Well, it turns out the rumors were true. And the object—a sealed container called the Cage—was transferred to the Quicksilvers' care.”
He continued, “The contents and significance of the Cage are unknown. It's protected by state-of-the-art hardware and software security, and the Quicksilvers haven't been able to crack it. Whatever this thing is, it must be important, because a Spacy assault force has been hounding them incessantly since it came into their hands. It was a stroke of fate that the they managed to shake off their pursuers and arrive in Hongpan with their charge.”
Captain Tinubu spoke up. “Then the Cage is here, in the city?”
“Far under us, hidden deep within the transcontinental tunnels,” Childers replied. His manner grew subdued as he added, “The Quicksilvers have sacrificed much for this prize. Those you see here are all that remain.”
A ripple of horror passed through the Greenwings. Cena turned to the Quicksilvers and exclaimed, “You mean you're it? This is the whole unit?”
“All that's left of us,” Eliot replied.
Before the ensuing silence could become protracted, Childers continued, “The Quicksilvers are prepared to hand the Cage over to our custody. With the high-performance processing cluster at our disposal, and the assistance of Professor Harris, we should be able to crack the security and open it up.
“Make no mistake, what has fallen into our hands is a double-edged sword. Given the extreme measures the Union has taken to get it back, we can assume that they're desperate to prevent us from getting our hands on its contents. It's an easy guess for them where the Quicksilvers have gone into hiding. The pursuit is likely trying to sniff us out at this very moment, ready to deploy a legion the moment they've found us.”
“Let 'em try,” Cena exclaimed. “The P.S.A.'s been trying to flush us out for years. We know every trick they've got.”
It was Tinubu who responded. “Yes, but they've never had incentive to hunt us down like they do now. And don't make the mistake of lumping T.U. Spacy together with the P.S.A. I should know. I've worked with them both as a security contractor. Spacy is in a whole other league.”
“There's no need to panic,” Childers interjected. “I just wanted you all to be aware of the importance of this find, and the danger. There's no telling how long it will take to break the security on the Cage. Until we've opened this thing up and retrieved the contents, we must be at maximum alertness.”
Childers turned to Guntar and asked, “Is there anything you'd like to add, Colonel?”
“Yes.” Guntar stepped forward. His shoulders were slumped and his eyes downcast. “There's no use mincing words. We've suffered such losses that our ability to operate as a unit has been destroyed. It's going to take some time to rebuild to our former strength. Until such time as Major Cutter and I deem the Quicksilvers fit to return to operational status, we will act as a special attachment of the Greenwings, under the command of General Childers. The details of your new assignments will come later. That is all.”
The Quicksilvers exhibited little visible reaction to this proclamation. The decision came as a surprise to no one. The expressions on many of their faces suggested that, if anything, they felt relieved to be joining a unit with significant strength and resources at its disposal.
“That's the situation,” Childers said. “For now, we'll retreat to the Undercity. Quicksilvers, form up behind us. You'll need to follow our lead until you've got some experience navigating the dirty underside of Hongpan.”
25
The Quicksilvers followed the Greenwings eastward for several blocks until they reached an artificial channel that served as a watercourse. They proceeded to drop one by one into the channel. Vic discovered to his disgust that it was littered with garbage and refuse, turning the water that trickled down the conduit a vile shade of brown. He followed his companions upstream, clinging to the channel's curved side and trying not to slip into the muck.
Soon, they came to a metal grate in the side of the channel. One of the Greenwings pulled it loose and ushered the others into the tunnel beyond. Lighting the path with flashlights, the Greenwings led the way through the narrow, debris-choked tunnel and stopped in front of a particularly large chunk of rubble. They pushed the rubble aside, revealing a stairway leading down, and beckoned their companions through.
Vic followed the others down the stairs and eventually emerged in an underground roadway that curved out of sight in either direction. A pair of trucks attached to enormous trailers were waiting for them. Two guards in SLIC uniform waved in greeting at the sight of their companions.
Vic stared from one side of the tunnel to the other. “How do the Therans not know about this?” be wondered.
Eliot came from behind and answered, “The Therans weren't the ones who built all this. They just dropped us off on this dust ball and left us to do all the dirty work while they made themselves comfortable in their ivory towers. They didn't show up in numbers to build their pristine little wards until the surface was habitable. By then we had already been building these subterranean cities for decades.”
Cena emerged from the staircase and moved to join the conversation. “We've caught them trying to map the Undercity with geo-sensors sometimes. We sabotage their equipment whenever we find it.”
“Let's keep it moving, guys,” Childers' voice echoed through the tunnel. “Everyone on the trailers. Let's go.”
A few moments of disorganized confusion overcame the group over which trailer to board, then the officers stepped in to direct traffic. As the rebels began boarding, Pierson emerged from the crowd and approached Vic and Tinubu.
“Captain.” Pierson grabbed Vic by the shoulder and gave him a push. “As long as we're joining the Greenwings as a temporary attachment, you should consider assigning Corporal Shown to the heavy infantry. He's got real talent. I think that's where he'll be most useful.”
“All right,” Tinubu agreed. He beckoned to Vic. “Follow me, Corporal. When it comes to exosuit pilots, Major Cutter's recommendation is good enough for me.”
Vic followed the captain into the second trailer. The interior was of the same character as all the other military transport he had ridden recently—spartan, cramped, and uncomfortable. He sat down near the deep end of the trailer, across from Tinubu and Cena. The next person to enter the trailer and sit down beside him was Esther. Lines of fatigue were etched into her face, and she leaned back against the cold metal wall and closed her eyes.
Once everyone was loaded up, the trucks' engines sputtered to life and they began their journey through the underground highway to an unknown destination. The inside of the trailer was dark save for the red glow of the rear lights. The trailer bounced and rolled with every imperfection in the road's surface, jarring the occupants with each impact.
Vic leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs and his eyes fixed on the floor. It was official now. He was being attached to one of the rebels' exosuit squadrons. The reality aroused mixed feelings within him. One part of him welcomed the chance to strike back at the Theran Union, but another part recoiled at the idea of more fighting. His thoughts went back to Eliot's words in the factory, boasting of his exploits. Eliot had meant it as praise, but it only served to remind Vic that his hands were now stained with blood.
Yet it was not the knowledge that he was now a killer that bothered him. Rather, it was the realization that he felt nothing—no guilt, no remorse. He had acted only in self-defense, and those he had killed had been murderous drug smugglers.
It was this cold acceptance, this readiness to kill if necessary that disturbed him. Did his psychological makeup include the raw ingredients of a burgeoning sociopath? He didn't want to find out. He didn't want to feed that part of himself.
“Hey,” Cena's rustic accent broke through Vic's thoughts. “Are you all right, rookie? You don't look so hot.”
Vic looked up. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.”
“I'll bet you are, after what you guys have been through,” Cena said.
The continuous jolts from the trailer dislodged a necklace that had been tucked under Cena's jacket. It swung out from behind the unbuttoned top and glinted in the crimson light. In the poor lighting, Vic could not make out the shape.
“What's that?” he asked.
“Hm? Oh, this?” Cena grabbed the emblem at the end of her necklace and held it up. It resembled a stylized image of a sun with a wedge-shaped crescent cut out of it. “What, haven't you ever seen a solinex before?”
“So that's what it is,” Vic said. “I've heard of them. It's a symbol of the Luminescence, isn't it? One of the old practices that was banned by the Union.”
“Pft, like those of us out here on the frontier care about that,” Cena scoffed. “We're not about to throw away our most cherished beliefs at some self-righteous bureaucrat's say-so. But c'mon, you already knew that, right?”
“Sorry. I...” Vic almost let slip that he had grown up on Thera—it would inevitably come out sooner or later—but then he decided that admission would not come from his own lips. “I grew up in the wards, so I'm still pretty ignorant about what goes on in the provinces,” he said instead.
“I was raised in the wards too,” Esther broke in. She was looking at Cena's necklace with a nostalgic expression. “But my husband was an adherent. He had one just like that. He kept it a closely-hidden secret. I was one of the few people who knew about it.”
Vic looked at Esther in surprise. “You were married, Dr. Klein?”
“I was.” Esther smiled sadly. “In the early years of our marriage, we were good little Union citizens except for my husband's secret faith, but the more he learned about the Union, the more determined he became to right their many wrongs. When it became clear that the system was too broken to repair it from the inside, he joined SLIC, working to bring the whole rotten structure crashing down. Eventually, the Union caught and executed him. That's when I decided to continue my husband's work, and I joined SLIC to fight the Union's oppression in his stead.”
“I—I'm sorry,” Vic said awkwardly.
“Do you have any children?” Cena asked.
Esther shook her head. “We might have had one, but... it was a miscarriage.”
Now it was Cena's turn to issue an awkward apology, but Esther silenced her with another shake of her head.
“It's all right.” She gave a sad, tired smile. “They're painful memories, but I've made peace with them.”
“I wish we all had your strength, Doctor,” Tinubu said, speaking for the first time since they had entered the trailer. “In the end, it won't be force of arms that brings down the Union, but the courage and conviction of our members.”
“Force of arms helps, though,” Esther replied.
The conversation lapsed back into silence. After several minutes, a hazy gray light shone through the backs of the trailers and the trucks slowed to a halt.
“We're here,” Tinubu said.
The rebels climbed out of the trailer. Vic found himself standing in a cavernous chamber filled with supply tanks and old machines. A veritable fleet of trucks and cargo haulers occupied much of the cavern. Several of the trucks were hauling trailer beds packed with high-tech equipment, while others were attached to cargo containers large enough to hold the supplies for a small army. Several soldiers in SLIC uniform milled about the cluster of vehicles on various errands. A ring of light posts surrounded the encampment, filling the chamber with a dim glow. At the edges of the light, Vic could just make out numerous guards stationed at the entrances to the cavern.
“And now you know why the P.S.A. has never been able to catch us,” Tinubu said. “The heart of our unit is right here, in this mobile base. Any time we're in danger of being caught, we just pack up and move. We've got some fixed hideouts here and there, but we keep everything critical to our operation on wheels.”
“Impressive,” Esther replied, “but where do you get the fuel?”
“Black market dealers,” Tinubu said. “Where else?”
Once the troops finished disembarking, the officers began breaking them up into groups and making temporary assignments. While the rest of the unit got organized, Tinubu and Cena stepped away from the assembly and traded a few words in secret. Something about the smiles on their faces as they returned made Vic uncomfortable.
“All right, rookie,” Tinubu said, “come with me.”
“Ah, yes sir.” Vic followed his superiors into the interior of the mobile encampment. “Where are we going?”
Cena looked over her shoulder and grinned at him. “Trial by fire. We're gonna evaluate your abilities by having you fight a one-on-one match against me.”
Vic returned Cena's cocky smirk with a
look of disbelief. “But didn't Captain Tinubu say you're the exosuit squadron's top gun?”
“We're not expecting you to win,” Cena assured him. “We just want to see what you're made of.”
They arrived at the back of a particularly wide trailer. A lethargic guard standing next to the rear hatch straightened up and saluted as they approached.
“Captain,” he barked, “will you be using the simulation room?”
“We will indeed.” Tinubu clapped a wiry hand on Vic's shoulder. “Major Cutter was kind enough to offer us a new recruit. We're putting him through the usual entry test.”
The guard's face lit up as he looked between Vic and Cena in sudden understanding. “Shall I go round up the others?”
“Go ahead,” Tinubu replied. “I'm sure they'll want a look at the fresh meat, too.”
As the guard ran off to gather his fellows, Vic followed Tinubu and Cena into the trailer. The inside was surprisingly spacious. A large screen, currently dark, hung on the far wall. The central floor was ringed by computer equipment, cables, and four other devices of a type that Vic had used mere hours ago.
“Dive pods,” he said in surprise. “Is this where you were watching for us in the cybersphere?”
“No, it's impossible to connect to the cybersphere from down here,” Cena replied. “These are just connected to our internal network.”
“What do you use them for?” Vic asked.
“Training and recreation.”
“And which is it this time?”
“Both,” Cena winked. “Training for you, recreation for me.”
“Great.”
Soon, the soldier who had been guarding the simulation room returned with nearly two dozen comrades. Once they had all gathered inside, Cena nudged Vic forward so he was standing between her and Tinubu, in full view of the assembled squadron members.
“Everyone,” Tinubu announced, “this is Corporal Vic Shown, a fresh recruit who's been transferred to our loving care from the Quicksilvers. He has the personal recommendation of Major Cutter. He's here to undergo the initiation ceremony.”