by Viola Grace
She growled, “Iff, can you do anything?”
“It would help if I had a trained pilot. If you are stuck there anyway, take the training.”
* * * *
The moment the door locked, Xaia headed for the rear of the chamber. She found the breaker and turned it on.
In spiralling clusters, chairs were set with headgear and connections to a huge mainframe. When Xaia checked, the mainframe wasn’t connected to an outside source.
“Ladies, find your bot or your clan name. This is the reason we had to come here. This is the place we learn what our ancestor knew.”
Nyvett stepped forward. “I will try it first. If it scrambles my brain, the rest of you can just break out.”
Xaia looked at the program. “It isn’t a brain scrambler. It is an imprint of the last pilots. Apparently, they never had any intention of keeping their part of the bargain. These are all our clan names.”
Nyvett settled in Norm’s chair. She slipped the helmet on over the headset and leaned back. “Ready when you are.”
Xaia activated the program, and she watched the readings, for Nyvett’s brain match up in a number of areas with Norm’s.
When Nyvett’s hands fumbled at the helmet, her eyes were slightly glazed. She leaned forward and took deep breaths. “It is fine. It is just intense. I can guarantee that if your pilots were like this one, you will know what you need to make that bot a warrior.”
The women all moved around the chamber to their chairs, and Xaia set them off one by one. When three were done, she sat in Turo’s chair, and she pulled the helmet down.
“Hit enter.”
Nyvett did as instructed because as Xaia sat in the chair, she was in Ai and fighting for her life. Spidery bots climbed her body and she scraped them off, venting heat through slots in her armour and turning with a blade extending from the back of her wrist as she slashed worm bots down the centre lengthways.
She saw every permutation and combination of fighting techniques with the background patter of Ai and Turo talking in a masculine and companionable manner. At the end of the experience, Turo brought Ai to the valley and then took the monorail back to the city. He gave his genetic contribution three times—which was weird for Xaia—and he lived out his life in comfort as a peacekeeper for the city.
She lifted the headset and looked at Nyvett. “Did yours go all the way to the end?”
“He did. Apparently, once they were here, they took it upon themselves to download all of their experiences into this unit. No one bothered to stop them.”
The other women gathered around, each with the memory of their ancestor bright and taking pride of place in their thoughts.
Xaia blinked when she heard, “I understand that thoughts of me are fascinating, but if you want to get out of there, I would recommend you determining another course of action.” Ai’s voice was dry.
Xaia blinked. “They won’t help because they think they are safe behind the plasma shield, right? Ai, pulse this code out.” She rattled off a seventeen-digit number and waited.
Nyvett gave her a sly smile. “What did you just do?”
“I turned off their shield. If they won’t give a damn about my people, I sure won’t worry about what they have turned themselves into surviving for another stunted generation.”
Xaia got to her feet and looked at the door. She smiled. “So, since we all know where the weapon’s cache is now, shall we load up our bots and get our people to safety?”
They all grinned and nodded.
Nyvett murmured, “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
With a count of three, they burst through the door and ran for their bots. They had an armoury to raid.
* * * *
Kiida checked the monitors, and she tensed up. “Dif, they are coming.”
“I can see them. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I can be.” She inhaled and exhaled as the ground troops began to close on them. “I have the guns standing by.”
“Good. Are any of those small bots ready?”
She sent a message to the armoury. “They are going to be. We need to give them an hour.”
“That we can do.”
Kiida waited until the incoming ground forces were within range, she stood Dif up and opened fire.
So much for being a reserve force, she really hoped that the other bots were having better luck in the city. They needed trained pilots, and they needed them yesterday.
Author’s Note
Second instalment, and you can tell how tired I was in the last note. I got the title of this book wrong.
The next book is City Strike ,and in it, our warriors need to find the hidden weaponry that has been cached under the city, and when they have what they need, they have to go home, if there is a home to go back to.
Thanks for reading,
Hope you are having fun with this. I am.
Viola Grace
About the Author
Viola Grace (aka Zenina Masters) is a Canadian sci-fi/paranormal romance writer with ambitions to keep writing for the rest of her life. She specializes in short stories because the thrill of discovery, of all those firsts, is what keeps her writing.
An artist who enjoys a story that catches you up, whirls you around and sets you down with a smile on your face is all she endeavours to be. She prefers to leave the drama to those who are better suited to it, she always goes for the cheap laugh.