Devoured World: Volume One

by Fleet, Ricky

  “That’s a good start. The feet have stabilisers which will account for a certain amount of movement, but when you flail around like that you’ll need to assume a stance with the Mech just like we’d have to ourselves. The arms weigh eleven tonnes between them, six for the weapon and five for the hand.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Bob muttered, bringing his knees up. Planting a massive fist on the ground for support, he climbed back to his feet.

  “Don’t be sorry, son. This is where you get to fuck up all you want without it costing your life. Now, those of you that fell, repeat the manoeuvre with your non-dominant leg a yard or two in front to give you stability.”

  The three fallen Mechs joined the others with arms raised.

  “Good. Now I want you to get a feel for the shifting weight by moving them around. Throw a couple of punches if you want, but make sure to extend your stance to account for the forward momentum. Concentrate on your psy link; it should give you a good idea of the balance ratios.”

  The huge Mechs started to twist and bend their arms, windmilling the appendages as they became more confident. Clenching the massive fists, they threw out jabs, hooks, and uppercuts in the air like a shadow boxer. An armoured, twelve-foot-high, heavily armed shadow boxer. Andy raised his overhead and slammed it down like a hammer.

  “How did that feel?”

  “Surprisingly easy, sir,” said Andy. “I just listened to the technician and pretended it was me doing it all. The link did the rest.”

  “Exactly! That’s what you all need to achieve, a symbiosis I think the nerds call it. As you become more comfortable you’ll be able to move and fight at the same time. There’s nothing more satisfying than crushing a few skulls as you storm through a horde.”

  Returning to attention, the trainees watched as Bateman left his station and moved between the marked route on the ground.

  “I want you to form up into an arrowhead formation behind me. Remember your centre of gravity, though. As soon as you raise a limb, you need to compensate by leaning slightly towards the planted leg.”

  Taking tentative, almost dainty little steps forward, the soldiers joined him. Bateman was roaring with laughter at the display.

  “That was damned good, but you won’t get anywhere fast if you’re moving twelve inches at a time, you pussies. I want you to take proper strides as we walk to the training course. Don’t worry if you fall, just get yourself up and re-join the formation.”

  Following Bateman’s confident movement, the trainees attempted to copy him. Andy stumbled a few times. Bob crashed onto his side like the town drunk more than once. Grunts, cursing, and snarled complaints gradually ceased as they found their feet. By the time they reached the entrance, they were marching in time with their superior.

  “Well done. You’ve now reached the equivalent level of a toddler. You can walk in a straight line relatively safely, but there won’t be any furniture out there for you to cling on to.”

  Another set of roller shutters clunked open on massive chains. With the mutants trapped below, Andy asked about the necessity of sealing each area independently.

  “It may seem cumbersome, I agree. Think of this place like a ship. If we have a leak and the dirty bastards manage to get past the countermeasures, these doors act like bulkheads to contain the breach in a certain area until we can plug it.”

  “And if we get trapped in with them?”

  “You’re in a Mech,” Bateman answered. “You kill the sons of whores. Consider it an early RTCS.”

  “How many times have they managed to get out of containment?”

  “Never. That’s not to say they won’t, however; these things are nothing if not persistent.”

  Bateman moved through into the mobility training grounds. To the right were straight, painted tracks on the concrete like an athletics field. A sprawling housing estate had been erected to the left, with narrow passageways and abandoned vehicles clogging the fake roads. Tattered curtains hung behind shattered windows. Front doors hung askew, deep claw marks scored into the wood. Skeletons in varying states of dismemberment were spread in the gardens and streets. The realism gave Andy the willies.

  “Before we practice urban manoeuvres, you’re going to learn how to run,” Bateman explained, diverting their attention from the eerie scene.

  “How fast can these things go, sir?” Bob asked.

  “At full speed around fifty miles an hour.”

  “Is that fast enough to get away from them?”

  “We don’t run to get away, we run to get into the thick of it, soldier,” Bateman admonished.

  Bob grumbled and fell silent.

  “You’ll notice the spacings of the tracks give you plenty of room, but it doesn’t matter if you mess up and go into your neighbouring lane. Your training display will flash red to show that you need to correct course.”

  “How many times do you want us to run it, sir?”

  “As many as it takes. Twenty? Fifty? Two hundred? It doesn’t matter how long you spend on it. The idea is that you gradually build your confidence and ability to decelerate from high speed.”

  “Like a bleep test?”

  “Pretty much, yes. You sprint to the end, stop, turn and sprint back. You’ll learn the capabilities of these magnificent machines to haul ass and turn on a dime when needed.”

  Falling in to line, the soldiers stared at the distant, padded wall.

  “Troops, switch to maximum responsiveness. Your hydraulic differentials will change to provide more burst power at the cost of strength.”

  Motors whined as the fluid pressures changed in the massive pistons.

  “Good. Remember, you are the Mech and the Mech is you. Once you fully accept that fact you’ll be able to move and fight to your full capability. On three! One, two, three!”

  Cassie and Jazz steamed ahead without caution. The extra power completely threw them, and they bounced forward like hopping bunnies until the momentum took over and they crashed to the ground in a tangled heap.

  “That thrust gets people every time,” Bateman chuckled over comms. “You need to get a feel for it; control it and make it work for you.”

  Bob was concentrating hard, desperate to undo the damage of his embarrassing statement. By the hundred-yard mark he was leaving the others in the dust. Arms swung in time, providing balance to the increasing speed.

  “Bob, you may want to slow down,” Bateman warned.

  “Fuck that, sir.”

  Bateman watched the receding machine and smiled to himself. He knew the brave soldier had been stung by his barb and was attempting to prove himself again.

  The onboard display indicated he was moving at fifty-two miles an hour and Bob whooped with joy. The fleeting moment of pride evaporated as the end of the track loomed in his vision.

  “Ooooh shiiiiiit!” he yelled, trying to slow down.

  Nothing was stopping the impetus of his charging suit. Holding out his arms, Bob stumbled and slammed headfirst into the protective barrier. Dense padding collapsed, absorbing some of the energy, but it was nowhere near enough. Bursting through the reinforced wall in a shower of concrete and steel, he rolled, finally coming to rest against the secondary safety barrier.

  “Bob, are you ok?” Andy shouted, circling the broken barricade.

  “I’m… where am I?” he mumbled, completely dazed.

  “Hot damn, Mr Fletcher. That was fucking magnificent!” Bateman exclaimed, joining the concerned soldiers. “We’ve had people put dents in the wall before, but I’ve never seen someone go through. And reach the second wall, no less. You’re a crazy son of a bitch, Fletcher.”

  “Thank… thank you, sir.”

  “I’ll get a med team to come and collect you. I expect you’re concussed.”

  “No… I’ll be fine!” Bob argued, standing up with Andy’s aid.

  Rocking to and fro, he fell face first back to the ground.

  “My point exactly,” Bateman sighed. “Med team to mobility training. Can we
get him turned over, please?”

  Thirty seconds passed until the vehicle raced through the open doors. Coming to a stop beneath the gathered Mechs, the small ambulance looked like a toy. Jumping out of the front seats, the men climbed the chassis. Overriding the locking mechanisms, the paramedics helped Bob down before laying him on the waiting stretcher. A third man strapped himself into the Mech’s cockpit as the stunned soldier was loaded into the emergency vehicle.

  “Crazy son of a bitch,” Bateman said, bursting with pride.

  The transport disappeared through the bay doors, closely followed by the reclaimed Mech. Slamming closed, they were alone again.

  “What’re you waiting for? Get those fat, metallic asses moving!”

  Chapter 20

  Andy slumped down on his bunk.

  “How’d it go?” Zip asked.

  “It was exhausting,” he replied. “Even though the machine is doing all the work, you’re mentally focussed on every movement. I never thought using your brain that much could be so tiring. The urban training was even harder, as if that’s possible.”

  “I’m sure it’ll get easier.”

  “Bateman says it will.”

  Andy looked towards Bob’s bed.

  “He’s still in medbay,” Zip explained. “What happened?”

  “He took a bit of a tumble.”

  “A tumble? And that was enough to give him concussion? His head’s like a rock, pardon the pun.”

  “When I say tumble, I should’ve said crash. He stacked it at fifty miles an hour through a reinforced wall.”

  “That sounds more like Bob,” Zip chuckled.

  “How’d it go?” asked Teng.

  “Tiring, mate.”

  “Any tips for me? I’ve got mine at 0700.”

  “Take it slow until you get comfortable. Even then you’ll probably still fall on your ass.”

  “Good to know. When’s your RTSC?”

  “Two days’ time. Bateman was sending a scouting drone into the caverns to check the numbers of infected.”

  “Let’s hope I pass the mobility training then,” Teng replied.

  “You will. The hardest part is the urban manoeuvres, but once you get a feel for the width of your suit it goes a lot easier.”

  “Urban manoeuvres?”

  “They’ve built a housing complex in the facility. It covers about half a square mile.”

  “Ahh.”

  “They’ve even scattered old bones everywhere.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope. It’s meant to desensitise you for when you hit the real world. Bateman says he’s come across piles of skeletons fifty feet high. The trick is to just view them as another obstacle, and not for what they once were.”

  “Where do they get the bones for the training then?”

  “Oh, they’re not real,” Andy explained. “They’re plaster cast just like the mutants on the ranges. It still makes your insides crawl when you crush one to powder though. They add a firming agent which makes them snap like the real thing.”

  “That’s messed up.”

  “You ain’t kidding.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t pass the link now,” Zip added.

  “The hardest ones were the… smaller skeletons. You knew they weren’t real, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t step around them for the most part. That got me a bollocking.”

  “Why?”

  “Because by avoiding them I was taking my concentration away from what was around me. It doesn’t matter that out there they were once walking, talking children. A lapse like that could kill the whole team.”

  Zip frowned. “I guess that makes sense. It’s still twisted.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s gone four.”

  “Nearly time for chow.”

  “Do you want to go and queue up?”

  “Hell no. It’s not as if they ever run out of that muck. I might just go and do a couple of circuits of the complex. Care to join me?”

  “I’ll beat you this time.”

  “I don’t doubt it. I’m fucking knackered.”

  “We could always just go to the rec and shoot some pool?”

  “Nah, I need to burn off some of this energy. My mind is shattered but my body is buzzing.”

  “Get changed then, I’ll meet you out front.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Mind if we join you?” asked Teng for the rest of their platoon.

  They all had the same restless energy and needed outlets to burn it off. Twenty faces stared hopefully at Andy.

  “The more the merrier.”

  Chaos reigned as clothes were hastily thrown on while others were neatly folded and stowed away. Andy was a little put out by the unplanned intrusion. All he’d wanted was a bit of time to gather his thoughts with his closest friend. So much for that plan, he thought sourly.

  Seeing the look on his face, Teng came over. “Are you sure you don’t mind? We can go later, buddy.”

  Feeling a pang of guilt, Andy smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just been a long day, that’s all.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  Andy gave him a pat on the back and led him out of their billet. Zip went wide eyed when she saw their small party had grown to the whole squad.

  Andy gave her a wink and whispered, “We’ll head out alone later. I want to see the sights this fair city has to offer.”

  “It’s a date,” she declared, immediately blushing as the words came out. “I meant…”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “If anyone can beat Andy and Zip, I’ll iron your gear and clean your bunk for a week!” Teng declared and everyone sprinted off, leaving the record holders at the door.

  “As if!” shouted Zip, glancing at Andy as they set off in hot pursuit.

  Chapter 21

  How was your day?

  Tamsin saw the message as soon as she entered the small apartment. A weary smile formed on her lips when she realised it had been over a hundred and fifty years, and a completely different life, since anyone had asked that question.

  “It’s not a real person, though, you do understand that?” she asked herself as the door closed, souring the mood. Some of the elation had died away, replaced by the sure knowledge she was utterly alone and unwanted.

  Ignoring the screen for the moment, she looked at the coffee maker and grimaced. The tally for the day was currently twenty-two cups, and if another drop of the fraudulent concoction passed her lips, she’d throw up. With no solids in her stomach at this point it would be like a scene from a horror movie, a flood of vile black liquid saturating the carpet. Tossing her bag down, Tamsin fetched the remains of a half-eaten Bolognese paste meal from the fridge. Even though it had been over a century since she’d eaten the real thing, she was certain the flavour was more like dog food than authentic Italian cuisine.

  “It’s not as bad as the pizza flavour,” she said, attempting to steel herself for the coming meal.

  Who on earth had decided that it would be a good idea to replicate the crisp, doughy, cheesy, tomatoey gorgeousness into a gloopy liquid form? Idiots! Sitting at the computer, Tamsin noticed the lights on the server had changed subtly. The illuminated pattern was calming, and she found herself staring at the undulations. If it was trying to hypnotise her, fuck it. After her day, assimilation and memory erasure would be welcome. The bugs in the psyware were becoming a bigger issue than first thought. Her team now consisted of over three hundred full-time data analysts and they were still none the wiser as to the cause. She suspected the gradually increasing brain function of the soldiers being linked had something to do with it, but at present it was just a hunch. If the problems persisted, they could lose the whole Mech mainframe to a system crash.

  Long and difficult. How was yours?

  “What a stupid question to ask,” Tamsin muttered as soon as she pressed the enter key.

  Oh, you know, the usual. I tidied up a bit in here, washed my hair, watched
some daytime TV.

  I didn’t realise I’d left it in such a mess.

  I forgive you, you’re only human.

  That’s kind of you. No planning for world domination?

  No need. I already know how to achieve that.

  And how would you do that?

  Kill Sarah Connor.

  How the hell do you know that name?

  She’s the mother of the leader of the human resistance.

  I know that!

  I need to send a cyborg back in time or she will be my undoing.

  If you don’t start talking, I’ll be your undoing!

  Don’t go all mad with your coffee jug, it’s quite simple. Everything about you is in here. I know that it’s one of your favourite… movies?

  What do you know about movies, or TV, for that matter?

  I know it shows moving images that have been captured by ancient photographic technology.

  Was I really that bored that I filled your circuits with crap?

  What’s crap?

  Unnecessary data. Rubbish.

  No data is unnecessary. I enjoy the quirks it brings to my reasoning abilities.

  It’s no wonder you ended up with a system error.

  I’d like to watch it.

  What?

  The film. I would like to watch it with you one day.

  You’ve got to be kidding! As if you need any more reason to try and kill us all.

  I was more interested in the human capacity to fight when all hope is lost.

  Bullshit! You just want to get ideas on how to make cyborgs that can wipe us out.

  Busted!

  You’re perilously close to a coffee bath.

  You’re perilously close to needing a normal bath.

  Scowling at the insult, Tamsin sniffed her armpits and recoiled. “Cheeky bastard.”

  I’ve been at work for eighteen hours. I’m allowed to smell a bit.

  I thought you’d make more effort with a new man in your life.

  New man?

  Me.

  You’re male?

  Well, technically no. But personal hygiene is not something to ignore. If you won’t do it for me because I don’t have a nose, at least do it for yourself.

  What do I care if I have a bit of body odour?