Mech Girl

by Kate Donovan

She flashed a mischievous smile. “Are you going to ask me to dance?”

  “Yeah.” He licked his lips, then took her by the arm and led her to the dance floor. He had a feeling Commander Logan would hear about this and disapprove, but he didn’t care. If he was going to die on Malara, he deserved this preemptive reward, didn’t he?

  Pulling her into a close embrace, he began to sway to the music. Then he buried his face in her hair, inhaling two scents. One was cosmetic—lime, perhaps? The other was so primal it made his nerves implode to the drumbeat of the music. “I can’t believe you’re here, Zee. I wanted to come see you after I heard the news. But Commander Logan ordered me to stay away. And I figured I’d see you tomorrow. At the launch.”

  “Everyone’s so excited about it. About you,” she told him softly.

  He tilted her face up so that he could look into her eyes. “I know you’re disappointed. But relieved too. Right?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “You’re confused? That makes sense.” He struggled to control his excitement at the feel, the sound, the hotness of her. “But think about it this way. You came so close. It was the best of both worlds. A 94.23 percent match with the greatest hero Earth has ever known.”

  She smiled up at him. “That’s what they told you? 94.23?” Before he could respond, she added simply, “It’s a lie.”

  “A lie?” Shocked back to reality, he glanced around the dance floor, not wanting to be overheard, and knowing that he and Zia were already the center of attention, not to mention gossip.

  There was a courtyard adjoining the bar, and he danced her toward it, his mind struggling with the possible explanations, all of them bad. As soon as they were alone in the twilight, he whispered, “You’re saying it was lower than 94.23? And your uncle manipulated the results so we’d think it was closer?” When she just stared up at him with wide golden eyes, he panicked. “What? You were a match? And they suppressed the information to protect you from going? Damn . . . I can’t believe it! But of course, Logan was so frigging determined! And your uncle is just the type to cover something like this up. But Ambassador Humber must know the truth. What does he think?”

  She was laughing in his face now. “Rem?”

  “Yeah?”

  “My score was ninety-five.”

  He winced. “Ninety-five?”

  Zia nodded.

  “So . . .” He was trying to remember what Humber had said. Over ninety-five was a match. Under it was not. Wasn’t that it? So—

  “To me, it’s a match,” Zia told him proudly. “Right?”

  He was still holding her in his arms, and didn’t want to let go. But this was too much. So he loosened his grip just a bit, then gave her a cautious smile. “Humber said it had to be above ninety-five.”

  I was there, Rem. I saw the Malaran doctor’s face. He thinks I passed. Because ninety-five is the cutoff. And I made it.”

  “That’s bizarre.”

  “Humber made him redo the numbers. And magically, they came out to 94.23.” She laughed lightly. “Turns out, Humber never wanted me to pass. He’s all talk, no action. So please don’t blame my uncle. This is a Malaran cover-up, and as much as I appreciate it, I’m not going to let them get away with it. I have to know, once and for all.

  “That’s why I’m here,” she added with an impish grin. “I need your help.”

  Rem chuckled nervously. “Sure, whatever you want. But I’m not a doctor—”

  “Not that kind of help.” Her golden eyes flashed with excitement and determination. “I want you to hook me up to the colossus.”

  * * * *

  There was a redwood bench at the edge of the courtyard with a view of the ocean through a profusion of scarlet-blossomed vines. Rem lead Zia over to it, and once she had seated herself, he towered over her and demanded hoarsely, “Have you lost your mind? Does anyone know you’re here? Have you mentioned this to anyone else?”

  She beamed up at him. “Remember your promise to my grandfather. You have to help me.”

  “I promised to protect your safety. Your mind is already lost, I guess.” He relaxed enough to sit next to her, taking her hand in his own. “Even if this idea wasn’t insane, I don’t know how to pilot a giant.”

  “How hard can it be?” she said teasingly. Then her tone grew sincere. “I just need to get inside the mech. And then figure out how to hook myself to it. Then see if I can make it respond to me. You have good instincts about these sorts of things—”

  “Says who? And even if I did, remember what the Malaran doctor said. If we hook you to the colossus, and you’re not a match, it’ll scramble your brain. Doesn’t that scare you?”

  Zia bit her lip. “You know what scares me more? Being useless.”

  Rem slid his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “That’s crazy, Zee. Don’t you know how much the public loves you? How great you make people feel—”

  “Malara is under attack. If they lose, Alluva will come after Earth next. The public doesn’t need a cheerleader, Rem. They need the next generation of Daniel Quito and Finn Stone.” Staring into his eyes, she insisted, “If I can make that giant dance, even a little, I’ll know—we’ll all know—that Daniel Quito’s spirit lives on in me. Even if I never fight, the Alluvan warriors will wonder. I’ll be a psychological weapon, just like Humber said. So please? Help me try to pilot the giant.”

  “Actually, we don’t need to hook you up to mind grub the Alluvans.”

  “Hmm?”

  A plan was taking shape in Rem’s mind. “We could say that your score was so close, the Malarans need to test you again on their own turf with more sophisticated equipment. And they could announce that if things look grim—challenge-wise—they might just hook you up to the colossus even if you’re not a perfect match. The fact that you’re willing to do that—to take that kind of risk—will be the ultimate proof that you’re Daniel Quito reborn.”

  Zia moistened her lips, listening but not responding.

  So Rem continued eagerly. “Don’t you see? We don’t need to take a chance by hooking you to the giant. You were never going to fight anyway, Zee. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Humber was clear on that. But you can still have a staggering effect, just by going to Malara.”

  “And you think Humber will still let me come?”

  “It’s impossible to say no to you. He told me so himself.”

  “But you just said no to me,” she murmured. “I asked you to hook me to the giant. And you said no.”

  Rem grimaced. “Yeah, but that’s different. That could kill you on the spot. I won’t take that risk. Not just because I care about you, but because the world would think I did it on purpose.”

  She drew back. “Why would they think such a terrible thing?”

  “You’re my only real competition for gaining back the presidency someday. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m sure that’s what your uncle would tell the public—that I eliminated you by hooking you to the giant. It would be political suicide for me.”

  Even before she responded, her expression told him how hurt she was. “Is that how you see me, Rem? As competition?”

  “No. Not now. But in the past? Yeah, to be honest, I did.” He touched her cheek. “I wouldn’t hook you up anyway. It’s too dangerous. Especially because we have this other plan, right?”

  She lowered her gaze to her hands, but he lifted her chin back up and smiled encouragingly. “They probably won’t let me fight either. I know that, but I’m going anyway. To show them we support them. I’ll find a way to make a difference. And you can too. As a symbol of loyalty and courage.”

  He wasn’t sure it was true. Maybe Logan and Humber wouldn’t agree to it. But it made sense if the alliance was going to endure and succeed. What didn’t make sense was taking a chance on frying her insides by attaching her to a colossus.

  If anyone could persuade Jared and Humber to let her go to Malara, it was Zia. And if not, then
at least she’d be safe. It was the perfect compromise, if only she’d accept it.

  But would she?

  Zia answered him abruptly by kissing him on the mouth, then jumping back before he could join in. “If I’m going to be your date to Malara, I’d better get some sleep.”

  Rem exhaled in relief. “You had me worried. I was sure you still wanted to make that damned robot dance.”

  “Are you kidding? I do my partying with humans, not mechs.” Her eyes twinkled. “Your solution is much more my style. We’ll go to Malara and be heroes together without firing a single shot. Right?”

  “Right.” He hesitated, then stood and leaned into her, ready to return her kiss and take a little more, but she pulled away again.

  “I have a limo waiting, so . . . Go have fun at your party. But don’t fall in love with anyone else tonight, okay?”

  “Don’t worry,” he promised in a hoarse voice completely unfamiliar to his ears.

  She flashed a final smile, then disappeared back into the bar, leaving him to stand and grin like an idiot, alone but no longer lonely.

  “Hey, Rem!” One of his best buddies appeared in the doorway. “She ditched you? Big surprise. Come on back in here. We’ve got a bunch of jokes—I mean, tributes—ready for you. You’re the guest of honor, so start acting like it.”

  He laughed, knowing that they would now roast him with stories of his various screwups and misadventures—romantic and military—during their five long years together. He didn’t usually enjoy this sort of ribbing, but for once he could afford to relax and enjoy it. His family name was going to be vindicated—that was just a matter of time now. Lieutenant Jeremiah Stone was going to see to that.

  And so maybe, just for once, he could simply be “Rem” tonight. That actually sounded pretty frigging good too.

  * * * *

  By the time Zia returned to the Hacienda, it was almost nine thirty, and the sun had long since set. She stopped by her uncle’s office to say good night, but there was no sign of him, which was just what she had hoped. It only took a second to grab the solenoid—a tiny energy-packed glass sphere that he kept on his desk as a symbol of all things Quito. It had once belonged to Quito the Great. And tomorrow, Jared Quito would hand it to Ambassador Humber as part of the launch ceremony. But tonight, it was all Zia’s.

  Hurrying to her room, she changed from her red dress into her black warm-up suit. Then she bundled her hair into a knot and smeared charcoal eye shadow across her cheeks and forehead so that she wouldn’t reflect any lights as she snuck across the compound toward the giant.

  Her heart was pounding, even though she had run off like this dozens of times—sometimes to do something dangerous, and always to do something forbidden. But this was new territory, doing something that could actually kill her. Scramble her brains, as Rem had described it.

  You scored ninety-five! It won’t kill you. It’ll welcome you like an old friend, she scolded herself. Don’t fall for Rem Stone’s mind grubbing. He can’t decide if he’s your best friend, your sworn enemy, or some guy who wants to sack you. One thing’s for sure, he’s not your hero, despite what he supposedly promised Grandpa.

  She had been so sure he’d help her, but now she was relieved he had turned her down. She didn’t want to get him into trouble, or ruin his chances of being president someday. Plus, she didn’t need him. She had the solenoid and her air boots. What more did any girl need for her first date with a colossus?

  Workmen had moved the giant robot into the open in preparation for the launch ceremony, after which it would be loaded into a cargo vessel along with the skirmisher for the long trip to Malara. According to her uncle, it had taken hours to move the giant. Unlike the skirmisher, which had been piloted out of the hangar and onto the field, the colossus couldn’t be piloted, or even safely activated, and so they had had to tow it—thousands of pounds of steel, titanium, and weaponry.

  As Zia crept along the edges of the field, she kept her eyes on the prize. It was only partially illuminated by the runway lights and a single spotlight that lit up its face. That alone was almost enough to keep intruders away. The steel had been shaped by Malaran craftsmen into a forbidding expression. And of course there was the fact that the head rose out of powerful shoulders that were twelve feet in width. Even without any color, or maybe because of that, it was a frightening sight.

  The only splashes of paint on this robot were the red epaulets on his shoulders and his scarlet breastplate. Zia had seen vids of other giants in battle and knew that Malaran pilots were allowed to design their own color schemes, sometimes going to elaborate lengths to re-create family crests or detailed Malaran dragons.

  “If this works, I promise I won’t paint you pink,” she told the robot as she crept up to it. “Just don’t fry my brain, okay?”

  She could see the door in the side of the chest cavity, and knew it wasn’t locked. The only lock, according to reliable sources, was the one allowing the pilot to keep intruders out, so it was on the inside of the robot.

  Taking a deep breath, she activated her air boots and rose slowly, staying in the shadow of the giant’s weaponized arm. When she reached the portal, she discovered there was no knob or handle, so she ran her fingers along the edge until she found a recessed latch. Immediately, the four-foot panel began to open outward toward her.

  Hopping into the dark, cavernous interior, she pulled the door closed behind her, then gave her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light—or rather, the lack thereof. She hadn’t thought to bring a flash-stick, and realized she might have encountered her first real challenge. Even if she could discover the spot where the solenoid fit, she didn’t dare install it until she was absolutely ready, for fear it would power up in a way that would alert the guards, either by sight or sound.

  Opening the door again seemed like the only safe recourse, so she did so slowly. It only took a two-inch sliver of light to make the necessary difference, and she prayed it wouldn’t be noticeable from the field. Then she stood back and surveyed the piloting chamber.

  It was a large room filled with instruments, but most of those appeared to have nothing to do with the pilot, since there was no way they could be reached from the large leather chair in the middle of the space. The chair had a harness so that the pilot could strap himself—or herself—in securely. There were gloves attached to the armrests that were clearly intended to help pilot the craft. And there was a solid footrest that also had straps.

  All of that was fine. It was the helmet hanging from a cable above the chair that had Zia a little worried. This was the heart of the beast, or rather, its brain. Once the solenoid was inserted in the instrument panel, and this helmet was fitted over the pilot’s skull—

  Synergy. A complete bonding of man and machine.

  Or scrambled Zee.

  Are you sure about this? she asked herself nervously. Why can’t you settle for 94.23 percent?

  It was a good question, she decided with a sigh. Unlike Rem, she wasn’t obsessed with living up to her family name. Daniel Quito had done enough of that to last them forever, hadn’t he?

  To her amazement, she realized the sentiment driving her at this moment, making her take the solenoid from her pocket and turn it over again and again in her hand, was honor. She had never felt anything like this before—would never have believed herself capable of, much less interested in, experiencing it. But here it was—a driving need to repay Malara for that amazing day, fifty years earlier, when it had seemed as if all hope was lost—like Alluva was going to smash Earth into submission—and then the Malarans had raced to their rescue.

  “And now it’s our turn, big guy,” she told the robot. “I wasn’t even born then. Neither were you for that matter. And neither one of us has ever fought a challenge in our lives. But we’re designed for battle, genetically and mechanically. Right? Isn’t it time we found out if we can live up to our mystique?”

  The sound of an engine from a distance startled her, and she jumped back
to the door and poked her head out in time to see that all hell had broken loose. In the air and on the ground, military vehicles were racing toward the robot with red lights flashing.

  Then Commander Logan’s voice boomed at her from a speaker. “Zia Quito! Exit the giant immediately. You could cause serious injury to yourself. Exit the colossus—now! That’s an order.”

  She shook her head. It was bad enough that they had discovered the breach. But how could they be so sure it was Zia who had perpetrated it?

  Rem!

  For some reason, it made her laugh out loud, imagining the look on his handsome, clueless face when the truth had dawned on him. Hopefully he had been dancing with some beautiful girl at that moment—that would make it even more hilarious.

  Ducking back inside, she exhaled sharply, then strode across the compartment and jammed the solenoid into the socket in the center of the control panel. Instantly, the giant lit up on the inside, and, she supposed, on the outside too. At the same time, a huge vid panel slid out of the ceiling, giving her an unexpected—and adrenaline-inducing—view of the chaos on the runway and in the air, where a hovercraft was fast approaching the giant’s face.

  Hopping into the chair, Zia ignored the harness and boot straps, reaching instead for the flexible helmet with one hand, while loosening her hair from its knot with the other.

  “Okay, Grandpa. This is it. Ninety-five percent, right? Make it count!”

  Chapter 7

  The helmet was huge, but as soon as she pulled it on, it began conforming to the shape of her head, as though actually shrinking. Tiny waves of electricity stabbed through her scalp, and for the first time since she’d entered the robot, she admitted she didn’t know what she was doing.

  But it didn’t matter. The robot knew. And what the robot knew, she knew also. It was there before she knew it—synergy. The perfect blend of human and machine. Now when she looked at the vid screen, she was really looking beyond it. If she wanted to look farther to the right, the screen responded instantly. Up. Down. Closer. Farther away. Whatever she wanted to see outside the robot instantly appeared on the screen.