As Henrietta went back the way they’d come, to follow a wide route around the hill, Beth inched from tree to tree, taking great care not to offer anything for the Ambler’s sensors to detect.
We’re lucky it didn’t pick us up through that gap in the trees. In truth, Beth had no idea how sophisticated the thing’s sensors were. No one did. But she suspected that the coming days would give her a stern lesson in the robots’ capabilities.
Henrietta appeared beside her in the mech dream, unclad in her MIMAS. “Now, Paste!” she said, using Beth’s own nickname, which Ash had given her. Hearing it brought another pang to her heart.
But she refused to let it get in the way of doing her job. Stepping out from behind a particularly large exemplar of Eresos’ native tree, she loosed two rockets at the Ambler.
The towering mech turned toward her as the missiles hissed through the air. One went wide, but the other slammed into its hip, causing it to stagger backward briefly before it charged toward Beth with abandon.
She sprinted forward several steps, her metal fingers retracting to rest against her wrists, revealing the twin rotary autocannons built into the MIMAS mech’s forearms. Both guns blazed, sending forty rounds per second screaming toward her foe.
Abruptly, Beth about-turned and dashed back into the relative safety of the wood.
Her MIMAS had sensors all over its body, however, and she was able to keep an eye on the Ambler as she fled. That came in handy when the enemy mech sent a pair of rockets at her, followed closely by two more.
Given the way the missiles veered in response to Beth’s course adjustments, they clearly had onboard guidance systems.
Not a problem. Their plan involved the woods for a reason, and this was far from the first time she’d ever had highly explosive ordnance sent at her.
Weaving through the wood, she timed her turns so that each rocket found a tree as its target—instead of her backside. Within seconds, four trees blazed behind her, and she was far enough through the woods that the Ambler had lost its visual on her. At least, it stopped firing, anyway.
When Beth reached the hilltop where she and Henrietta had scouted the enemy, she risked a glance back through the gap in the trees.
Sure enough, Henrietta was out on the plain, wreaking havoc on the Gatherers flinging themselves at her with abandon.
They were no match for the MIMAS. True to her handle, Henrietta whirled around and around, slicing through each robot before it could touch her.
But the sound of the Ambler crashing through the trees reached Beth, far too close for comfort. She engaged her flamethrowers, igniting the flora between her and her adversary to buy some time. This close to the Barrens, the trees were all standing tinder, waiting to be set ablaze.
Beth didn’t hang around to watch the dancing flames. She fled down the hill.
It took more time than she’d anticipated for Henrietta to catch up, which meant more fleeing across Eresos’ uneven landscape for Beth. That made her worry about stumbling across even more enemies.
In the end, her fears went unrealized. Beth watched through her rear sensors as Henrietta overtook the Ambler with surprising stealth, given her speed. The MIMAS collided with the alien machine, driving both bayonets into its midsection.
That didn’t stop the Ambler, and it turned to confront Henrietta. But Beth had already turned around and detached her heavy machine gun. She proceeded to pelt the Ambler’s back with armor-piercing rounds.
That propelled the Ambler into Henrietta, who plunged her bayonets into the mech once more, pushing it off to fire her autocannons straight into its face, or at least what passed for its face.
“Back up!” Beth shouted as she fired a stream of four rockets at the enemy mech.
Henrietta leapt backward several meters, landing just as the missiles connected with the Ambler—all four of them.
It went down, but Beth wasn’t about to assume the job was done. Instead, she trained her newest weapon on the mech; her lasers, which Darkstream had only recently discovered how to use inside planetary atmospheres.
Short seconds later, the Ambler burst into flame, followed by an explosion that flung its parts in several directions for dozens of meters.
Intelligently, Henrietta continued to back up. But as she did, her human likeness appeared before Beth.
“Good work,” she said, staring up at Beth’s MIMAS.
“You too. Do you have that worked out of your system, now, or are we going to have to engage every hostile the satellites notify us of?”
Henrietta shrugged. “Let’s take it a little easier, from here on out. Taking down an Ambler makes for a pretty successful afternoon, in my books. Besides, I have a feeling we got lucky, with this one.”
I’m just hoping we make it back to Ingress. But Beth decided not to share that sentiment out loud.
Chapter 4
Warzone
Lisa had no mech, and except maybe in extreme circumstances, she wasn’t about to let one of them carry her. She knew her refusal to be carried was slowing down their progress, but she considered her dignity worth it.
Besides, our mission isn’t terribly urgent.
Lisa, Jake, and Marco were headed to join up with the Quatro drift who’d taken care of Andy while he recovered from the injuries he’d sustained escaping Alex. The idea was to recruit the Quatro caring for him to join the fight against Darkstream, but at the very least, Lisa would collect Andy and Bob O’Toole, so the effort shouldn’t be a total wash.
It’ll be close to one, though, if the Quatro don’t join. She doubted Andy would be well enough to fight, and Bob O’Toole…she wasn’t totally sure regaining O’Toole would help or hinder the revolution she seemed to find herself leading.
At least her army was out doing constructive things, under the guidance of Tessa Notaras and Rug. They were following up on rumors of nearby fighting between humans and Quatro, in the hopes of recruiting the aliens.
Even though Lisa’s short, human legs were slowing down the mechs, Marco Gonzalez still managed to fall behind every now and then, lost in the task Jake had assigned him.
“How’s your progress on breaking those access control locks, Spirit?” Jake asked after Marco started trailing behind for what felt like the hundredth time. The alien mech Jake piloted towered over Marco’s. As intimidating as Lisa found the MIMAS models, the shapeshifting mech was much moreso.
Thank goodness there’s only one left, and it’s on our side. For now. But she didn’t like to think about the possibility of Jake turning against them like Gabriel Roach had.
“Uh,” Marco said. “It’s coming. I should have access within a couple days.”
Jake’s mech inclined its head without breaking its stride. “Make it one day.”
A sigh projected from the amplifiers installed all over Marco’s mech. “I still don’t see why we can’t just leak the MIMAS training sims to the system net. They’d be hacked inside of an hour, then.”
Jake grunted, and said, “You really think the public can break digital locks faster than you?”
“Sure. Don’t underestimate the power of crowdsourcing. Anyway, hacking isn’t my specialty. Being smart doesn’t mean I’m an expert at everything.”
“No one said you were smart,” Jake said with a chuckle. “Anyway, there’s no way we’re leaking these to the public. Just because we’ve turned against Darkstream doesn’t mean we’re going to start leaking military secrets all over the place. We’re only going to leak matters of extreme public interest—like the fact that the company was complicit in enslaving everyone on Alex.”
Marco shook his mech’s head. “I still don’t see how it’s dangerous to leak the sims. People would still need to obtain actual MIMAS mechs to do any harm with those, and that’s incredibly unlikely.”
“My decision’s final, Marco. We’re not leaking the sims.”
When Lisa had first asked Jake for access to the training sims, he’d been reluctant. Although he seemed committed t
o fighting Darkstream in theory, he was still struggling with going through the actual motions. He hadn’t seen what she had.
Although, Bronson did order him to abandon his family to die.
Either way, he’d needed some convincing.
“Do you really think we’re going to get our hands on more mechs?” he’d said.
“I think we have to. The deck is stacked against us, Jake—so high that it’s hard to see the top. If we’re going to win this war, we need something to even things up. We need to obtain some more mechs.”
He’d shrugged uncomfortably. “I just don’t think it’s very likely.”
When she’d answered, her voice had been much softer than before. “Well, isn’t it a little more likely that something bad could happen to you or Marco while you’re outside your mechs? We’d need replacement pilots, if that happened.”
After a pause, Jake had said, “You’re right. My mech is pretty different from a MIMAS, and I wouldn’t wish piloting it on you. But you’ve convinced me. We can’t transmit the sims to you without breaking the access controls protecting them—I’ll have Marco get started on that right away.”
That comment, about how Jake wouldn’t wish piloting his mech on her, had robbed Lisa of sleep that night. But what could be done? They couldn’t afford for Jake to stop using the alien mech.
Even if we could afford it, I’m not sure that he would stop.
An alert from her implant interrupted her reverie, telling her that they were drawing near the location that Andy had transmitted to her.
The Quatro had learned not to engage in any large troop displacements unless they had an underground tunnel or cave that they knew they could viably retreat too. Aboveground, their superconducting fullerene-laced brains only had enough power to pull the triggers on the artillery they’d acquired, but belowground was a different matter altogether. There, it was cold enough that their ability allowed them to halt bullets before they reached their targets.
Luckily for the Quatro, the topology of Eresos was riddled with such underground hideaways.
If Andy hadn’t told her how to find the entrance to this Quatro drift’s current lair, she doubted she would have found it on her own, even given the coordinates. Two trees twisted together to huddle up against a hillside, and the gap was such that the Quatro themselves likely had to squeeze through. Lisa had seen several Quatro big enough that she wasn’t sure they would have fit at all, though maybe the trees had more give than they appeared to.
Or maybe Quatro are more flexible than I think.
“How are we doing this?” Jake asked. “The mechs aren’t getting through there. Not unless we widen the hole, and I doubt your friends would appreciate that.”
“It’s up to you,” Lisa answered. “But like you said, if you come, your mech stays out here.”
Jake nodded. “Marco, you keep watch. Drop the hacking for now, okay? I don’t want you distracted enough that you let a Darkstream battalion drop on our heads without warning.”
“I wasn’t that distracted!” Marco protested.
“Trust me, Marco,” Jake said as the front of his mech opened up to let him leave. “Give the hacking a break.”
The temperature dropped with surprising rapidity as Lisa and Jake progressed along the tunnel, and they hadn’t gone very far before their weapons were snatched out of their hands to fly into the darkness.
They’d been expecting this, and they both raised their empty hands into the air.
The invisible force gripped the metal in their jumpsuits and walked them gently but firmly deeper down the passage.
Without Rug, they had no means of speaking to the Quatro escorting them, but luckily, Rug had persuaded a member of her drift to leave a translator behind, to facilitate communication between Andy, Bob O’Toole, and the Quatro.
Within minutes, they entered a modest cavern lit by two campfires, filled with Quatro, who Lisa’s implant instantly tallied up: “SIXTEEN QUATRO PRESENT.”
One of the aliens stepped forward, lowering its enormous head while bending its forelegs slightly, which Lisa knew was a gesture of respect. Metal glinted from around the quadruped’s neck—the translator.
The Quatro escorting Lisa and Jake rumbled briefly in the aliens’ language, and then the one wearing the translator spoke.
“Welcome, Lisa Sato,” the Quatro purred. “I apologize for the precautions, however I have trained my soldiers to treat all humans with wariness, especially humans who make their way into our base. This one is not known to us.” The Quatro indicated Jake with its gaze.
“This is Jake Price,” Lisa said, “a former Darkstream mech pilot. That is, he still pilots a mech—just not for Darkstream. He’s on our side, now. He’s a friend.”
The alien shifted its gaze to the Quatro holding them and spoke in their tongue. With that, their escort released them from its invisible grasp.
“Thank you,” Lisa said.
“You will no doubt wish to see your friends,” their host answered. “Follow.”
The Quatro turned with more grace than should have been possible, given its size, though Lisa was accustomed to that by now. Even so, when its paws landed, it sent a slight tremor through the rock.
Lisa exchanged brief glances with Jake, to make sure he was taking everything in stride. But her friend had acquired what seemed to be an unshakable calm since they’d last been together several years ago, and unsurprisingly, he appeared collected now.
They passed through a smaller rock chamber into an even smaller one. There, Lisa’s eyes fell on Andy, playing chess with Bob O’Toole on a board their implants overlaid on the rock. Andy’s eyes met hers, and she sprinted toward him.
“Easy!” he said, using his crutches to struggle to a standing position, and she slowed, embracing him gently.
“I’m just so glad to see you’re okay,” she said, her head pressed against his chest.
“Thanks,” he said. “Although, you left me with only O’Toole for company, in terms of humans. I’m pretty sure my sanity went away a few days ago.”
“You could have done a lot worse,” O’Toole said from his sitting position.
I’m not sure how, Lisa reflected, though she didn’t share the thought. She drew back from Andy, trying not to look at his left leg, which he’d lost below the knee.
“Who’s this?” Andy said, and Lisa saw that his gaze had drifted past her to lock onto Jake’s. Andy’s expression had gone cold.
“Seaman Jake Price,” Jake said, stepping forward and offering his hand.
Andy ignored it. “My hands are kind of full,” he said, lifting the crutches slightly.
“Apologies,” Jake said, lowering his hand briskly.
Lisa felt the corner of her mouth quirk downward. She felt quite sure Andy could have managed to shake Jake’s hand, and she wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t. Seems a bit petty.
“Jake is a childhood friend,” Lisa said, in an attempt to disarm Andy. “He’s from Hub, too.”
“I see.”
An awkward silence stretched on until, at last, Lisa said, “Well, we’d better get back to the Quatro. We’re here to recruit them, too, and if they’re willing to join then we need to start planning our next moves.”
“Sure thing,” Andy said curtly, even though he addressed her, now. “You two go do that. I’ll stay here and keep O’Toole occupied.”
As she and Jake walked back to the central chamber, Lisa apologized to her childhood friend. “Andy’s not usually like that. I guess being in a warzone with half a leg missing has brought him a lot of stress.”
She’d meant it as a joke, but it came out a lot darker than she’d meant—and a lot realer.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jake said. “We’re all under a lot of stress.”
Chapter 5
Window into Your Skull
Ash was visiting Northshire for the first time in years. Her father greeted her at the door, with his booming laugh that seemed to echo off the hills surroundi
ng the town. Then came Jess, her best friend and confidant since…well, since she’d been born.
“Ash!” her sister squealed, running out to sweep her into a tight embrace. Pulling back with her hands still on Ash’s shoulders, Jess said, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another year at least!”
“I…” Ash cocked her head to the right. “I’m not. I’m not supposed to be here.”
Blood had begun to leak from the edges of Jess’s eyes, to stream down her face in tiny rivulets. Her warm smile never left, though, and her grip on Ash’s shoulders remained just as firm.
“I’ve met a man, Ash, and he doesn’t know it yet, but we’re going to get married. We’re going to start a family.”
With the word “family,” Jess’s eyes melted as though superheated. Melted dollops, they slid down the blood and fell from her cheeks and onto the ground. The rest of her face was unaffected.
Ash woke from the nightmare, panic seizing her chest and making her heart race.
Her surroundings did nothing to quell her anxiety. Gunmetal-gray surgical tables. Dully reflective steel walls. Sterile white bedsheets, covering twin rows of beds…
A sick bay. The one on Valhalla. She recognized it from when they were all gathered around Gabriel Roach’s comatose form.
Roach. He…killed me.
At least, during that final moment of consciousness, with Roach’s dark blade projecting from her chest, she had accepted that she would die.
Yet here she was.
The sick bay entrance opened, and a woman wearing a lab coat the same color as the bedsheets entered, approaching the bed. Ash attempted to sit up, to greet the woman, but pain lanced through her body and she cried out softly.
“Easy,” the woman said with a slight Eastern European accent that reminded Ash of Beth. “Your body is not yet recovered, though the iatric nanobots have made good progress on that front.” The woman offered her a small smile. “I am Doctor Korhonen. You’ve been out for a few days, and I’ve been supervising your recovery during that time.”
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