by Kate Donovan
Humber’s expression grew grim. “There are approximately fifty mechs on each side. Assuming a maximum configuration of three for each challenge, that would mean we endure sixteen challenges. An exhausting campaign that would leave both sides vulnerable to attack by a third party.”
“What’s the longest campaign ever, so far?” Rem asked.
“Six challenges.”
Rem considered it carefully. “So? Six months? That’s a short war by Earth standards.”
“Look!” Zia interrupted them. “Two skirmishers and a giant. The classic configuration, right, Humber?”
Rem moved to the window again and gawked openly at the sight, imagining that this was how it had happened at the Battle of the Canyons with Daniel Quito at the controls of a red mech much like the one that was bounding off the ground before their eyes, trying to get the jump—literally—on a green-and-silver colossus. The attempt failed, and the mechs retreated from one another, positioning themselves for another round of maneuvers.
The thought that he might not be allowed to participate in all this made his temples throb with frustration, but he composed himself before he turned back to Humber and rejoined the conversation.
The ambassador was giving Zia a further strategy lesson. “Earlier, we said six challenges would take six months, but that is not necessarily true. The challenger must allow the target a full month to prepare for each battle, but the target can always choose to shorten that time. It is another strategic decision—full preparation versus the hope of catching the challenger off guard.”
“And a great mind grub,” Zia agreed. “If you’re ready to go again within weeks, maybe even days, they’ll think they underestimated you.”
“Exactly!” Humber beamed like a proud parent. “Very good, Zia.”
She smiled and looked out the window again. “I’ve seen five configurations so far, but never three giants together.”
“It is unheard of,” Humber confirmed. “They are too valuable, and also less maneuverable. Even a one-on-one challenge between giants is disapproved because giants, for all their power, are not quick.”
Rem was nodding in agreement. “For one-on-one, it’s always a skirmisher. They’re really the most versatile of all the mechs, right, Humber?”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Zia drawled. “You’ve got a bad case of colossus envy, Captain Stone.”
“Your grandfather toppled a colossus with a skirmisher, remember? I’m sure he’d agree with me,” Rem said, teasing. He sat back, ready to enjoy her sexy pout of disapproval, but his attention was diverted by a glint of light in a stand of tall, black-leafed trees.
A huge blue colossus thundered into view, and Rem murmured admiringly, “I take it all back. You’re right, Zee. That’s the most amazing sight I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh!” Her eyes sparkled with delight. “He’s so beautiful.”
“That one is a she,” Humber said with a laugh. “It is Carrak—the one I mentioned. She is making an entrance, as you say on Earth.”
“That means my mech is a ‘she’ too,” Zia said with a grin. “Right?”
“Maybe we should just call it an ‘it,’” Rem suggested warily. As bizarre as it seemed, he couldn’t imagining referring to Daniel Quito’s robot—either of them, actually—as a girl. Ships and air vehicles? Sure. But a mech? A giant mech? It seemed like blasphemy.
“Look! She’s waving, just like I did.”
“Except she’s trying to wave. You were trying to walk,” Rem reminded her with a chuckle.
“The point is, she’s saying hi to us.” Zia waved back through the huge window. “The hero of Zellot. I like her already. What’s she like, Humber?”
“You will see.”
Rem caught the undertone of warning. “A hard-ass? She’d almost have to be if her job is training pilots.”
“Yes,” Humber agreed. “And she is very good at it. Would you like to meet her?” Without waiting for a reply, he instructed the pilot to land the craft at a nearby building. Then he said to Zia, “Remember who you are. That is my advice to you.”
“That’s what Commander Logan said too,” Zia told him solemnly. “I’ll remember. I promise.”
Humber arched an eyebrow at Rem. “For you, my advice is different. In Carrak’s eyes, you are just a pilot. Do not try to convince her otherwise.”
“Just a pilot? That’s fine with me,” Rem assured him.
“An Earth pilot.”
“Yeah. I get it.” He chuckled, then added under his breath, “Bring it on.”
“I can promise you,” Humber said, chuckling too, “Carrak will do just that.”
Chapter 9
Zia was finding it harder and harder to stay mad at Rem. He was being so charming, and his eyes were so blue—almost electric. These new Malaran experiences were fun rather than threatening, simply because he was there to share them with her.
And that press conference was two whole weeks ago, she reminded herself mischievously. Even if you slept through it, that’s still a long time to hold a grudge.
Not that she intended to backslide completely. Despite the lingering memories of their makeout sessions—real and suspension-imagined—she had learned her lesson about all that. His vendetta against her mother was an insurmountable obstacle to any sort of romantic future. But they could be friends of a sort, at least for their time on Malara.
She especially liked the way he stuck close to her side as they threaded their way down the stairs from the roof of the military building until they reached an open area filled with comfortable furniture and vid screens. Noting that there was also a food service bar along one side, she surmised that it was a recreation center for the personnel at the practice facility.
As Zia and her entourage entered, four young Malarans in leather vests and pants who had been sprawled on the floor, chatting with one another, jumped to their feet. Their fur was various shades of gray, not quite as dark as that of the young Dr. Annur. The two males were over seven feet tall, and the two females were only a few inches shorter than that. Aside from Humber, Zia hadn’t really met many Malarans up close, and she was surprised by the expressive, almost eager faces of these four. Apparently, the overly reserved manner developed later in life for these mammals.
They saluted her as Annur had done, by pounding their fists against their chests. Then one of the females rushed forward and said, “This is a great honor! Have you come to practice with us?”
“Sure,” Rem agreed quickly, but Humber cut him off, saying, “This is their first day on our planet. I am providing a brief tour, and then they must return to their hotel to rest. You could offer them refreshments if you wish.”
“Right away.” The female gave a slight bow, then detoured over to the bar.
“You are Daniel Quito’s granddaughter,” one of the males said to Zia, his voice filled with reverence. “We are grateful to you for making this long journey in our time of need. You will inspire us to fight well and to win decisively.” To Rem, he added as an afterthought, “You are welcome here too.”
“Thanks,” Rem said. “Are you all pilots?”
“Yes. They say you are one too. Even though you have never actually piloted a mech. Perhaps Carrak will allow you to play with one of the damaged prowlers.”
“Thanks, but I brought my own skirmisher,” Rem informed them with a laugh.
The Malaran pilot arched a skeptical eyebrow, then turned back to Zia. “I am Gannor, the best of all Carrak’s students. It is my great hope that she will allow me to train you personally.”
“I’m going to train her,” Rem interrupted, and Zia flushed at the annoyance in his tone.
Gannor laughed. “And who will train you? Remember, please, that even Quito the Great needed lessons from a Malaran.”
Zia felt a surge of loyalty for Rem. “Quito the Great didn’t win three Medals Exemplar like Captain Stone did.”
Gannor’s eyes danced. “Your female protects you, Captain. That is good.”
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Rem gave a good-natured laugh. “She’s hardly my female. And just for the record, the Exemplars didn’t exist when Quito was at the academy. Otherwise, he would have won all three easily.”
Gannor’s brow arched. “That is an excellent response. It shows we have two things in common. Our admiration for Quito and our hatred for Alluva. We will fight well together.”
“Great.” Rem’s eyes danced. “When do we start?”
“You start when I say so,” came a loud voice from the direction of the staircase.
The Malaran pilots’ fists pounded their chests again, and they bowed as though fearful as well as respectful.
Humber stepped forward. “General Carrak, it is good to see you. I have brought honored guests. This female is Captain Zia Quito. And this is Captain Jeremiah Stone, a pilot of great talent and courage.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, General Carrak,” Zia said, slightly awed by the sight of a Malaran hero. Carrak’s fur was blue-black and lustrous, and she was every bit as tall as the male warriors. Her dark gaze was fixed on Rem, as though he were an oddity, and Zia wondered if these Malarans had ever seen humans in person before. Rem was definitely a great introduction to the species with his strong build, thick hair, and sparkling eyes. And while he was a foot shorter and a lot less bulky than the Malarans, that didn’t detract from his ability to look them right in the eye, equals and allies.
Rem saluted Carrak smartly. “We’re at your service, General.”
Carrak shrugged. “The question is, do you have anything to offer, other than as propaganda? And so our first step will be to gauge your training level in the simulator. Unless you are too fatigued from your journey.”
Zia smiled. “We slept for two weeks straight. So gauge away.”
“Not you,” Carrak said dismissively. “You will rest. We will test the real pilot first. Eventually, you will be tested too, but just as part of the charade. Captain Stone? Follow me.”
Rem cleared his throat. “Will you be okay here, Zee?”
“Our soldiers are here to protect her,” Carrak reminded him. Then she turned to the female pilot who had set a tray of drinks on a nearby table. “Maryak, you will entertain Quito’s granddaughter. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Carrak.”
“Ambassador, you may come with me. As may you three,” Carrak said, motioning toward Gannor and the remaining Malaran pilots. “You are anxious to see if this Earth pilot can handle elementary simulations, are you not?”
“Yes, Carrak,” they all murmured, then they trailed after her, along with Rem and Humber, leaving Zia alone with the four Malaran guards and the pilot named Maryak.
“Wow.” Zia exhaled sharply. “General Carrak’s pretty tough.”
“We all hate her,” Maryak confirmed with a laugh. “It is fine if you hate her also.”
“Whew!” Zia grinned and took a seat near the tray. “This looks good. What is it?”
“The juice of fruit. It is sour, but I have put some sweetener in yours. I am told Earthlings enjoy their drinks that way.”
Zia took a sip and felt her cheeks pucker from the tartness. “Refreshing,” she managed to whisper. “Thanks.”
“You are welcome.”
“I’m sorry you got stuck babysitting me.”
“It is a tremendous honor. Only Carrak would dare treat you badly, when you have come here so bravely to fight with us. Like your ancestor.”
Zia smiled. “At least she can tolerate Captain Stone.”
“She prefers males. Her poor treatment of female pilots is as legendary as her victory against Zellot.”
“That’s crazy. She’s a female pilot herself. You’d think she’d want to encourage the rest of you. Of us,” Zia added quickly.
“She berates us when we do not defeat the males, yet she gives them preference in all honors and privileges. And she mates with them indiscriminately.”
Zia burst into laughter. “Did you just call her a slut?”
“Pardon?” Maryak turned off her translator and motioned for Zia to do the same. Then she asked in halting English, “What word?”
“Slut.”
“Sllllllut.” Maryak nodded. “Huss, Carrak slut.”
Zia kicked herself for not having learned any Malaran over the years. Humber’s English was so impeccable, it had never seemed necessary. And so except for a few words—huss for yes, narl for no, sesh for please—she was out of her depth.
Turning her translator back on, she asked carefully, “Will she try to mate with Captain Stone?”
Maryak giggled. “He could never satisfy her! He does not have enough body parts.”
Zia grinned. “True. I saw some Malaran porn once back in senior grade, and it was pretty elaborate compared to ours.”
Maryak turned off her translator again. “Porn? Porrrrrn. Good word.”
Slut and porn? Nice going, Zee. Could you try to have a little more class? You’re representing Earth. And Grandpa! Yeesh . . .
* * * *
For almost an hour, Maryak and Zia answered one another’s questions about their schooling and training, about the culture of the rec center, and about warrior challenges in general. Maryak was particularly intrigued by the fact that Earth fought its battles with huge forces of relatively unarmored men and women.
“I understand that your people were ignorant about mech warfare until Alluva attacked. But after that, why did you not build your own robots?”
“In our galaxy, we need armies, not mechs,” Zia explained. “After we defeated Alluva, we could have spent our share of the challenge bounty on robots, but there was so much else Earth needed more. We hadn’t completely harnessed solar energy yet, so we used most of the money to build a planet-wide grid, revolutionizing our way of life. Some of the bounty was set aside for international defense. And the rest we put in a fund for global disasters. Earthquakes, famines, and all that.”
“Was Quito the Great richly rewarded at least? On Malara, such a hero would have been given one-quarter of the bounty.”
Zia laughed. “It doesn’t work that way on Earth, unfortunately.”
“Strange.”
“I guess so.”
Maryak’s huge eyes began to sparkle. “If Malara defeats Alluva in the first challenge, the bounty will be doubled. Every pilot will share in the glory and the wealth.”
Zia grinned at the unapologetic greed in the female’s voice. “Ambassador Humber says the target never wins the first challenge.”
“Not yet,” Maryak agreed. “But perhaps this time will be different.”
Zia nodded. “The riches don’t matter as much as the penalty. Right? If the challenger loses in the first round, the target can destroy all of the opposing mechs. So at least we’ll know Alluva can’t bully anyone else for a while.”
“Yes,” Maryak conceded. “That is also important.”
“But if the Alluvans win—”
“They will not win. Especially now, because we have the granddaughter of Quito the Great to help us.”
Zia winced. “Thanks. But if they did win, they wouldn’t be allowed to destroy Malara’s mechs, would they?”
“No. As the challenger, the most they can take is ten percent of our wealth and resources. If they wish to take mechs as part of that, they can. But that is never done.” Maryak hesitated, then murmured, “They will take certain prisoners to humiliate and execute. That is another reason we must prevail. Oh!” She exhaled in disgust. “General Carrak is back.”
Zia turned to see the huge mammal striding toward her. There was no sign of either Rem or Humber.
Carrak announced briskly, “You will return to your hotel with the ambassador. Captain Stone will continue to perform in the simulator.”
Zia winced. “Perform?”
“He must be doing well,” Maryak whispered.
“Yes,” Carrak drawled. “He’s doing very well. Better than you did on your first try, Maryak. Better than you did on your tenth try, in fact.”
&n
bsp; “Mother!”
Carrak’s eyes darkened to jet black. “Escort this delicate Earth flower and her guards to the transport. Our ambassador is waiting for her there.”
Zia’s head was spinning. “Delicate flower?”
“Is that not what you are? Go with Maryak.”
“Does Rem know I’m leaving?”
“He has progressed three levels and is attempting to conquer the fourth. Are you asking me to interrupt him?”
“No.” Zia jutted her chin forward. “And just for the record, I’m not a delicate flower. I’m a pilot. Of a colossus.”
“What are you saying?” Carrak demanded. “That you wish to fight in the first challenge?”
Zia drew back, intimidated. “No, of course not.”
The general’s laugh was harsh. “No, you do not wish that. Go to the hotel, delicate flower. I will see you again tomorrow.”
It sounded more like a threat than a forecast, and Zia was glad when Carrak spun away and marched out of the room without waiting for an answer.
“Cripes.” Zia gave Maryak a sympathetic smile. “She’s your mother?”
The female pilot nodded unhappily.
“I can’t believe you called her a slut.”
Maryak shrugged. “She has her way of insulting me. And I have my way also.”
Zia tried not to laugh, but it bubbled through. “It’s so hilarious, Maryak.”
“Yes.” Maryak giggled impishly. “Come along, delicate flower. I must take you to the transport before the slut comes back and insults us again.”
“Right.” Zia grinned and motioned for the Malaran guards to follow them. It seemed strange leaving without Rem, but she wasn’t about to interrupt his fantasy-come-true just because she was feeling outnumbered by Malarans. She had three perfectly good humans waiting for her at the hotel, didn’t she? And Humber was waiting too, so she took one last glance behind herself, then hurried up the steps to the transport.
* * * *