Atlas

by Isaac Hooke

  "Nothing. No blue mists around the brain cases. There's a little condensation, but that's about it. Satisfied now?"

  Well, that was certainly unexpected. But it didn't mean I was wrong. There were lots of places a Phant could hide inside a mech.

  The Chief leaped down to the deck and nodded at the technician. "Close 'em up." The cockpits of all three ATLAS 5s sealed. "Now stand down, Rage."

  I gazed at Facehopper, Skullcracker, and Tahoe. At the pistols they had aimed at me. I smiled sadly. "If you have to shoot me, then do it now. Because I won't stand down." I looked pleadingly at Tahoe. "You know me. You know me. I wouldn't do this if we weren't in danger. Something occurred to me about what Pyro said. When he ran into one of the mists during his escape, he thought he was a dead man, but he kept running, and got away.

  "I believe he was wrong. He didn't get away. I believe the Phant stowed away in his mech without him noticing. When a Phant invaded Hornet, it went straight for the brain case and left me alone. If I hadn't had my eyes inside the cockpit, I would have never seen it do that. The problem is, the mechs are too big, and hide the profiles of the Phants, unlike the smaller Centurions. I'm telling you, there's at least one stowaway Phant inside this hangar."

  "What if you're wrong?" Tahoe said.

  "Then courtmarshal me."

  "You're already going to be courtmarshaled," the Chief growled.

  "I can prove it."

  "How, by tossing the mechs overboard?" Chief Bourbonjack said.

  "Basically, yeah."

  "You're crazy."

  "As I said, shoot me." I held my arms wide. "Shoot me."

  They didn't shoot.

  I activated my jumpjets and flew across the hangar, issuing the command to open Ladybug's cockpit while I was still in the air. Manic's former mech was provisioned to respond to my Implant, while the other two, belonging to Bravo Platoon, were not. I landed in the pilot's seat but before I could seal the cockpit I found myself staring into the receiving end of the Chief's pistol—he had climbed the rungs of Ladybug's leg before I landed, and he held his 9-mil's barrel right up against my facemask.

  His eyes blazed. His lips were pressed together so severely beneath his mustache that the skin had become a milky white.

  "Can't let you toss three billion digicoins worth of equipment overboard, Rage," the Chief said. "If the others won't fire, then I will. You know I will, goddammit."

  I stared at my Chief. Yes, he would.

  I could try to close the cockpit, but he'd easily let off three or four bullets before I could. At this range, the armor piercing rounds would go right through my facemask and come out the back of my head. There would be some minor damage to the cockpit. Easily repairable.

  "Chief, listen to me," I said carefully. "Is three billion digicoins worth the risk of transporting a malevolent alien being into our space? A potentially invulnerable alien that can dissolve human flesh at a touch, and possess our robot support troops, our ATLAS 5s, and use them against us? Do you really want to be known as the Chief who allowed this threat into our space?"

  "And if you're wrong I'll be known as the Chief who allowed billions of digicoins to be thrown overboard."

  "I'm not wrong."

  Chief Bourbonjack stared at me for the longest time. His eyes never stopped blazing, not for an instant. They drilled right into me, judging me, probably searching for any sign of doubt, or lack of conviction, or insanity.

  "You're going to make me shoot you, aren't you?" the Chief said.

  I didn't know if he expected an answer, so I didn't say anything. I just looked into his eyes, waiting for the shot, expecting it.

  If I had to die for what I believed in, then so be it.

  "Damn it." He pointed the pistol upward, away from my face, but still ready to bring it down at a moment's notice. "I've seen that look before, in the eyes of trainees during Trial Week, trainees who would rather die than give up their dream. You're not going to back down, are you? You really believe you're right?"

  "I do. Look, if I'm wrong, I'll spacewalk out and retrieve the mechs."

  "Okay, Rage. Okay. I'll humor you. Goddammit."

  He lowered the weapon and then climbed down Ladybug's rungs, boots clanking with each step. "Clear the deck people. We're depressurizing this bunghole." He glanced at the Bravo Platoon ATLAS 5s. "Never liked those mechs anyway."

  Seated there in the cockpit, I peered into the small crack beneath the open hatch and the hull of my mech, gazing into Ladybug's innards, and I noted that there was no mist surrounding the brain case. Though I supposed that didn't mean too much. As I said, there were many places a Phant could hide in these things.

  I sealed the cockpit and the internal layer of the mech took hold of me, and its sight became my sight. I stood to my full stature, and Ladybug obeyed. I felt the usual sense of power and invincibility.

  When the Chief shut the airlock behind him, I walked the mech over to the hangar control console, and interfaced with my Implant. Or I tried to, anyway. I'd been locked out of the controls.

  I sent Chief Bourbonjack a message over my helmet comm. "Chief, can you—"

  "Warning," a female voice echoed in the hangar. "Depressurization commencing. Hangar atmosphere venting overboard. Warning."

  I glanced back at the airlock, and saw the Chief peering through the portal. He nodded when I caught his eye.

  I walked Ladybug toward the mooring area of the Bravo ATLAS 5s. The technician had been right, the left servomotor pulled to the left so that I had to correct my path every few steps.

  "Which mech did Pyro ride, do we know?" I sent over the comm.

  "The one right in front of you," Chief Bourbonjack sent. "Wolf."

  I went to the indicated ATLAS and paused in front of it. There was no sign of any Phant. Well, just because I couldn't see it...

  I tore open the fuel lines that fed its jumpjets. Then I bent the barrels of the gatling guns, the launch tubes of the serpent launchers, and the nozzles of the incendiary throwers attached under each arm.

  Satisfied that the mech was properly disabled, I hooked my huge hands beneath the Bravo mech's elbows and lifted. The stress that heavy load placed on the individual joints and servomotors of Ladybug was mirrored in the resistance the internal actuators applied to my body, so that it felt like I was lifting a moderately heavy weight. The whole point of that resistance-mirroring was to prevent a pilot from overloading and damaging his ATLAS 5, so that if I tried to pick up an MDV, for example, I'd really feel it.

  I reached the hangar doors. Which still hadn't opened, I might add.

  "Chief?"

  For a second I thought the Chief had changed his mind about this.

  And then:

  "Warning, hangar doors opening," the female voice echoed. "Warning."

  A flashing red light activated somewhere in the overhead as the hangar doors parted down the middle. Since the air in the hangar had already vented, there was no explosive decompression or anything. The artificial gravity remained constant.

  I stepped forward until I stood right on the edge of the void.

  I held Wolf outside the ship.

  I pushed forward, releasing my grip.

  The mech floated away.

  I waited a few moments, wondering if the mist would make an appearance, or if the mech would try to fight back.

  But Wolf made no movement. No Phant emerged from it.

  The lifeless mech just floated away.

  "Congratulations Mr. Galaal, you just threw out three billion digicoins worth of UC military equipment," the Chief's voice came over my helmet speaker. It wasn't lost on me that he'd called me Mr. Galaal, instead of Rage. "Not to mention, both our enlistments."

  "Sir, I—"

  "You what? Made a mistake? Yeah. Big-time. I hope you're pleased, because now we'll get to attend each other's courtmarshals. I'm shutting the hangar doors, dumbass. Step back."

  "Wait, Chief," I said. "What about the other—"

  "Warning, han
gar doors closing," the hangar voice intoned.

  I activated my jumpjets and flew across the hangar, landing beside the second Bravo ATLAS 5.

  "Look, Mr. Galaal," Chief said. "You've already thrown out one multi-billion digicoin mech. Let's cut our losses and end this while we're ahead. You never know, maybe the Navy will grant us some leniency. Make our jail sentences lighter. Mitigating circumstances and all that."

  "I don't know why you're so worried," I said. "I've got jumpjets. I can retrieve the mechs—"

  "Ah, I see. So I'll tell the Captain that we have to delay, because you threw some mechs overboard. Well I got news for you. He's not going to stop. Not now. You go out there, we're not waiting for you. And that means you're not going out. So stand down goddammit. You're wrong. You just can't see it. You're blinded by grief."

  I looked at the remaining ATLAS 5.

  The Chief was probably right.

  No Phant had stowed away on board.

  I wanted so badly to avenge Alejandro and give his death some meaning.

  But I was wrong.

  And if I couldn't go out there and retrieve that mech, there was no way I was going to make things worse by tossing the other mech outside.

  I was done.

  The Chief was right.

  "All right, Chief. I'm going to—" Then I realized something. "Wait a second. Which mech had condensation around its brain case?"

  "Mr. Galaal, I've just about had it with—"

  "Chief, humor me a while longer. Which mech did you see condensation in?"

  "Tell me why you want to know."

  "Because, a Phant would probably appear as a liquid in a human-friendly environment."

  "Condensation." The Chief sounded stunned.

  "Bingo. So which mech? Was it Pyro's, the one I just threw off the ship?"

  There was a long pause.

  "No," the Chief said. "I saw condensation in the mech right in front of you."

  I glanced at the hangar doors.

  They were three-quarters closed.

  I still had time, if I was quick.

  But what if I was wrong?

  "Mr. Galaal, do not touch that mech. I say again, do not—"

  I reached around the second ATLAS to tear open the jumpjet fuel lines—

  The Bravo Platoon mech exploded into action. Its arms rammed into Ladybug's chest piece, sending me flying backward across the hangar.

  I slid to a halt near the opposite bulkhead, my body scraping a long runnel in the deck.

  "Holy shit." The Chief's voice was full of static in my helmet.

  I started to get up—

  My vision filled with digital snow and white noise consumed my hearing.

  I raised a hand in front of me as if to shield myself from the garbage patterns that wouldn't go away even when I closed my eyes.

  Zulu Romeo Lima!

  The command words shut down my Implant.

  Sight and sound returned. I was staring at the inside of my cockpit. Emergency alarms were going off all around me.

  So the Phants were the source of our Implant troubles after all. I guess that meant everyone aboard was experiencing sensory deprivation right about now. They'd just have to cope until they shut off their own Implants.

  I hoped whatever the Phant was doing didn't wreak too much havoc on the other ship systems.

  "Audio and visual feeds, route to helmet." The mech directed its sight and sound to my helmet so that I could interact with the outside world again. I noted that the backup HUD in my helmet was disabled again.

  I stood up. I'd forgotten how heavy these mechs felt when controlled without the Implant. My body would adapt to the sensation soon enough.

  General Quarters sounded.

  "This is not a drill!" came the voice over the main circuit. "This is not a drill! General Quarters! General Quarters! All hands..."

  The Bravo ATLAS hadn't made any other move. That pinched head merely stared at me, yellow eyes now active and glowing eerily. It was waiting for me to make my next move.

  It could have easily taken me down while I recovered from the Implant overload.

  Maybe it was trying to communicate with me. Or maybe it was trying to give me a chance, out of some alien sense of honor. I don't know. Either way, that was a mistake on its part. I sure wasn't going to show it the same mercy. And I sure didn't want to talk to it, not after what its kind had done to Alejandro and Big Dog.

  The hangar doors thudded shut.

  "Chief, get those doors open!" I said into the helmet comm. He'd have to get the Captain to authorize an override, now that General Quarters had sounded.

  The possessed mech was still waiting, motionless.

  It wanted me to make the first move, did it?

  I turned on my jumpjets. Full forward thrust. I hurtled across the hangar.

  The Bravo ATLAS swiveled a gatling gun into its left hand.

  My first instinct was to activate the ballistic shield built into my own mech, but then I remembered that all weapon and shield loadouts had been removed from Ladybug for the technician's diagnostic run.

  I had no shield.

  And no weapons.

  I kept my forward thrust on at full.

  Almost there—

  The possessed ATLAS brought its gatling to bear—

  I collided with the mech.

  The two of us smashed into the far bulkhead.

  I clambered to my knees instantly. The possessed ATLAS, below me, steered its gatling barrel toward my chest.

  I wrapped my hand around the tip of the barrel and bent it.

  The Bravo ATLAS stupidly fired. Strips of metal peeled back from the barrel and the feed tray exploded.

  The enemy mech discarded the useless weapon and grabbed my left leg. Standing, it lifted me right off my feet and swung me around, ramming me headfirst into the bulkhead. It was still hanging on to my leg, and hoisted me up again, this time hurling me into the deck.

  Then the overdeck.

  Then the bulkhead again.

  I was getting dizzy. Alarms were going off all over Ladybug's cockpit.

  The possessed mech still hadn't let go of me, so the next time it lifted me I activated my jumpjets at full burn and launched the two of us toward the hangar doors.

  Which hadn't opened.

  "Chief!" I said into the helmet comm.

  I applied braking thrust, and we dropped to the deck right in front of the doors.

  "Warning, hangar doors opening." The female voice echoed. "Warning."

  The Bravo ATLAS released me. Serpent rocket launchers swiveled into either hand. If those rockets struck at this range, both our mechs would be destroyed.

  But I guessed the alien in command of the mech wouldn't know that.

  I wrapped my hands around the legs of the Bravo mech and swung my body hard to the left, activating side thrusters for extra momentum, and released, hurling the mech across the hangar like an Olympic thrower launching his hammer.

  The Bravo ATLAS was spinning wildly toward the far bulkhead when it decided to fire off both its serpents.

  One unaimed rocket struck the overhead. The other struck the right wing of the Moth Delivery Vehicle, which was moored in the center of the hangar.

  The shockwave sent Ladybug hurtling backward. I rebounded from the far bulkhead, landing face-first.

  I clambered to my feet (which was difficult, given the problems I had with my left leg servomotor), and I took a moment to survey the hangar. The entire right wing of the MDV was disintegrated, and above me, a gaping, sparking hole was blown in the overhead.

  With a boost from my jumpjets, I launched myself across the hangar at the still-recovering Bravo ATLAS.

  I smashed into the mech as it rose. The two of us toppled to the ground.

  I got up on top of it and grabbed the tubes of the serpent launchers with both my hands and bent them out of shape. Satisfied that my opponent's rockets were disabled, I wrapped Ladybug's arms around the midsection of the Bravo ATLAS a
nd lifted the thing into the air.

  It slammed its arms down, trying to break free of my grip.

  I swiveled around and fired my jumpjets, hurtling the two of us toward the now open hangar doors.

  The possessed mech shot off its own thrusters, lowering our combined trajectory. The two of us struck the deck hard, and sparks flew as we skidded along the metallic surface.

  I increased my thrust, compensating, and the two of us shot into space.

  I ignored the sudden nausea and directionlessness, fixing my eyes on the enemy mech, using it as my reference point.

  The Bravo ATLAS swung its arms down once again, and when it still couldn't loosen my grip it decided on a different strategy.

  It activated its lateral thrusters on full, spinning slowly at first, then faster and faster, bringing us to a dizzying speed. I tried to counter by firing my own jets in a stabilizing motion, but the ATLAS kept tweaking the angle of thrust.

  The centrifugal G-forces in my mech shot way up.

  I was about to black out—

  I released the mech, and went spinning away from it.

  I steadied my motion, and shook my head, trying to clear the dizziness. Then I got my bearings. I wished the Phant hadn't burnt out my Implant and the Heads-Up-Display map, because I had to keep pivoting in multiple directions until I finally spotted the mech.

  It was thrusting back toward the ship.

  I pursued.

  The possessed mech shut off its rear jets, then fired its lateral thrusters, turning to face me while continuing onward the ship.

  The remaining gatling gun swiveled into its right hand and fired.

  I released my own lateral burst of thrust, which added a sideways element to my forward motion, and I circled the target, giving a wide berth to the stream of superheated bullets.

  I noticed that the mech hadn't learned how to dial-down the recoil of its weapons—firing the gat had sent the thing spinning away. It was forced to stop shooting, concentrating instead on stabilizing its motion.

  I adjusted my own trajectory so that I came at the ATLAS in a 3D version of a Fibonacci Spiral. Imagine a steel ball descending in an elongated spiral down the surface of a funnel, and you had an idea of my flightpath. It was an advanced maneuver, and I knew the enemy would have a hell of a time targeting me on an approach like that.