Mech Girl

by Kate Donovan

  Finally Zia was able to decipher a series of meaningless but wonderful words: “Zee—fire—not—yet—not—turn—”

  Rem? She had no idea what he was trying to tell her, but it didn’t matter. He was alive! He was in the Quito skirmisher—the mech he had always been destined to pilot. Best of all, he was about to jump the gold Alluvan and topple him to the ground, then stomp him into the sand until he screamed for mercy.

  She loved that strategy, and she was definitely going to help. So she leveled all her cannons at the black skirmisher and fired, leaving herself wide open to retaliation by the gold giant in exchange for the precious gift of his undivided attention.

  The black skirmisher jumped backward, stunned by the unexpected ferocity of her assault, but wasn’t quick enough to evade damage. Staggering a few paces, he fell to the ground, seemingly destroyed—this time for good.

  It was the gold giant who retaliated on his behalf by firing twin cannons at Zia, rocking her wildly, slamming her back in her seat. Equipment dislodged from the walls and battered her, with one strip of metal striking her collarbone, causing her to shriek from reverberating pain.

  Keep your balance, she pleaded with her colossus, and right on cue, her jets fired. The giant mech still buckled down onto one knee, but managed to right himself, just in time for her to see Rem make his jump.

  It was the most glorious thing she had ever witnessed. The flash of red metal that was Rem Stone rose so high in the sky, it was more rocket than mech. Then it crashed down onto the gold Alluvan, catching him completely off guard, sending him reeling to the ground, toppled and humiliated.

  There was smoke everywhere. It was pouring from the gold mech and the black one. And from the Quito skirmisher.

  Zia was pretty sure it was pouring from her mech too. From the feel of her pounding head, it might have been coming from inside her helmet for all she knew.

  But she didn’t care. All she cared about was Rem. If he had somehow managed to survive that thunderous collision, she would never need or want another thing in her life.

  But the Quito skirmisher wasn’t moving. Wasn’t firing. The door to its hatch wasn’t opening.

  Zia yanked her hands from her gloves and struggled with her harness, anxious to get out of that seat so she could help him.

  Then she froze as a mechanical voice announced ominously, “Alluva has called for a status check.”

  * * * *

  Rem wasn’t sure whether he had imagined the words or had actually heard them. Alluva was admitting their mechs were out of commission. It was a miracle so unbelievably sweet, he actually ached with satisfaction at the thought of it.

  The battle had ended in a draw. Yet still he wanted more. He wanted the win.

  “Zee? Zee, can you hear me? Can you fire? Can you hear me?”

  He had seen her mech sway like a sapling in a hurricane, but she was still on her feet. Smoke was pouring from her mech, but there were no flames. He had to believe she was alive. After all of this, it would be too cruel—too impossible—not to be able to celebrate with her.

  Reaching for his control stick, he tried to make his skirmisher fire, even though he knew it could not. Still, he doggedly confirmed the fact that he could not be the one to break the draw, even if he could somehow get his mech back on its feet and moving.

  His screens didn’t work, but he could see the Quito giant through his windshield, and he willed it to fire. To take a step. To end this, once and for all.

  And then it happened. One shaky step forward, then a second one. Then the magnificent silver giant lifted both arms and fired its cannons high into the air as it had done when it first emerged from the transport.

  Rem started to whoop with glee, but the sound froze in his throat as he realized the giant was swaying again. The kickback from its cannons, coupled with the damage to its knee, had been too much for the gleaming colossus, and as Rem watched in horrified disbelief, the Quito giant crashed to the ground.

  * * * *

  “Zee! Zee, speak to me. Baby, wake up. Say something. Please?”

  “Rem?” Zia curled her arms instinctively around his neck, even though she suspected he wasn’t there at all. Not really. It was another romantic dream. She had had so many of them lately, starting on the day she first met him, and continuing even in the suspension chambers on her trip to Malara.

  But surely all that had come to an end in the earsplitting crash she was pretty sure had killed her.

  “Zee!” He was dislodging her from her piloting chair, and she wanted to remind him to take the helmet off her head first, then she realized he had already done that. Strange, because her head still felt confined by something. A vise perhaps? The grip of the gold Alluvan giant? Something awful, that was for sure.

  “The hoverbot’s on its way, Zee. Just hang on.”

  “A hoverbot? No, Rem. Too boring.”

  He laughed. “Not to fight with. To rescue us. The fight’s over, Zee. And guess what? Annyak’s still alive. And—” He paused for a deep, rumbling cough before announcing proudly, “We won the frigging challenge.”

  She forced herself to concentrate on his words. “You mean it was a draw, right? I fell down, Rem.”

  “Yeah, but you took a step and fired a shot before you fell. So we won. We won.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “Wake up, baby, please? I need to know you’re okay.”

  Charmed, she dared to believe him. Maybe they really had won. Maybe she really was alive. Cuddling closer to him, she murmured, “I love the way your arms feel. It’s like that day you carried me off the stage. You felt so warm and strong and safe. And romantic.”

  “You were unconscious when I carried you,” Rem murmured. “But I’m glad you remember it that way. I just wish . . .”

  She opened her eyes, ready to smile into his handsome face, and was shocked to see a deep gash across his forehead and a coating of blood everywhere. “Oh, Rem, you’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing,” he insisted, his voice hoarse. Turning his face away, he coughed roughly, then explained, “It was windy as heck out there.”

  “But Rem . . .” She brushed her fingertips across his mouth and cheek, confused by the amount of grit mixed with the blood. “If you were wearing a mask—You were, weren’t you?”

  “Don’t think about that. The only thing that matters is we won. And we’re together. And you’re alive. And in a few hours, you’ll be on your way home.”

  A sob rose in her throat. “The air here is so bad, even Malarans won’t breathe it. Please don’t tell me you ran hundreds of yards through it without a mask. Please . . . please . . .”

  “Shhh.” He cradled her against his wheezing chest and stroked her hair lovingly. “It’s fine, Zee. The hoverbot’s here now, so just go to sleep. If—if anything goes wrong, don’t let it make you sad. This was the greatest day of my life because of you. So just go to sleep now, okay? And when you wake up, let Humber decide what you need to do next. Promise me that, okay?”

  Chapter 19

  “What are you saying?” Charlotte demanded, interrupting Zia’s story for the fifteenth time that afternoon. “Is Rem Stone secretly dead? The vids said he’ll make a full recovery!”

  “Are you saying he breathed that yucky air?” Bea’s eyes were round with shock. “Humans can’t survive that, right? Oh, my God, ZeeZee, it’s so tragically romantic. Or romantically tragic. He ran through hell to save you. You might as well sign up for a convent right now, because no guy is ever going to top that for you. Not ever.”

  Zia grinned. “Are you finished? Can I finish? No, obviously, he didn’t die. I’d be crying, wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know,” Charlotte admitted. “You’re a lot tougher than we ever knew you were.”

  “True. But the actual fact is, that air wasn’t dangerous at all. Full of sand and dirt, yes, but he coughed all that out in a few hours. Or so I’m told, because I slept through most of it, thank God.” She smiled fondly. “When my friend Maryak told me the air on
Jairqua is so bad Malarans won’t go there, she meant it’s bad for Malarans. Because it’s so low in particulates, it doesn’t meet their nutritional needs. But it’s borderline tolerable for Earthlings.”

  “What a relief.” Bea sighed. “What happened the next time you saw him? Did he kiss you?”

  “I never really saw him again,” Zia admitted. “At least not in focus. I kept drifting in and out because of my concussion. And since Ambassador Humber was afraid the Vekzori might go nuts over the great performance of an Earthling—meaning Rem, obviously, not me—the Malarans pumped us full of drugs, stuck us in the suspension chambers and hustled us back to Earth right away. By the time I woke up again, I was here in my own bedroom, safe and sound. They put Rem in the hospital though, for cracked ribs and a cut on his head and who knows what else.”

  Charlotte raised her hand like a schoolgirl asking permission to speak. “Did he ride in that escort chamber with you again?” When Zia nodded, she squealed with delight. “That’s so romantic. Two whole weeks, sleeping together. Have you talked to him yet? When are you going to see him again?”

  Jenni, who had visited Zia before and had heard all of these stories already, spoke up. “Don’t talk about him so much. It makes her too sad. Ask about the mechs and the pink food. Anything else but Rem Stone.”

  Zia was only half listening as Jenni proceeded to remind Bea and Charlotte about all the reasons Zia and Rem could never be together on Earth. It was depressing, and she didn’t really feel like being depressed. This was her third day back home, not to mention the first day she really felt like her old self again.

  Except you’re not your old self at all. You’re a completely different person. Too bad Rem’s the same guy he always was.

  He had tried to reach her a couple of times, but she had asked the housekeeping staff to tell him she was still recuperating. She couldn’t put him off forever, though. There was a huge celebration planned for the end of the week so that the public could see them, applaud them, and hear all about the victory on Malara. Rem would be there, of course. She was pretty sure it would be the opening gambit in his bid for the presidency. Maybe Commander Logan would even resign at that event and announce his support for Rem.

  If that happened, she’d announce her support for him too. It would be a pleasure to tell the world how brave he was. How resourceful and unselfish and invincible.

  And stubborn . . .

  “Zee?” Charlotte nudged her with her foot. “Are you still loopy from the concussion?”

  “No, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

  “About him?”

  Zia nodded. “But Jenni’s right. I don’t want to talk about him. And I should probably rest. Can you guys come back again soon, though? I really missed you. Plus, I give you partial credit for helping me pilot my mech without dying. Because you were such great opponents in sky paddle all those years, you helped me have good aim and good balance.”

  “But you were born brave,” Charlotte said with an admiring smile. “We’ve seen the vids from the challenge, Zee. You didn’t just have good aim. You were unstoppable.”

  “Speaking of vids,” Jenni said quietly. “Let’s see what you were watching before we came in.”

  Before Zia could stop her, Jenni activated the display on Zia’s bedroom wall, then huffed in disgust. “This again? I knew it. Every time I visit, you’re watching it.”

  “Why shouldn’t she?” Bea demanded. “It’s so romantic.”

  Zia gave a halfhearted sigh, transfixed as always by the image of herself and Rem at the medal ceremony. She was staring up into his eyes with such adoration, and he was looking at her with that warm, sexy look she loved so much. And in a moment, he was going to pick her up and carry her off the stage—

  “Why do you keep torturing yourself?” Jenni demanded. “If you’re not going to date him, or even be friends with him, why watch this?”

  “That’s a good point, actually,” Charlotte said. “It seems a little masochistic, Zee.”

  Jenni reached into her backpack and pulled out a half-inch diskette. “If you have to watch the medal ceremony, try this version.”

  “Hmm?” Zia eyed it warily. “What do you mean, ‘this version’?”

  “See for yourself.” Jenni inserted the disk in the vid slot, and a new image appeared. Or rather, the same image, but taken from a different angle. “You think it’s so romantic, but is it really? Look at the expression on his face. And look at yours. That’s not love, that’s just calmative-induced loopiness.”

  As the girls stared, the image of Zia stepped up to Rem and gave him a vacant, impersonal smile. Rem scowled—slightly but visibly—and he muttered something that couldn’t be heard over the noise of the crowd. But it must have been bad, because Zia drew back for a second. Then she just shrugged it off and slipped the ribbon over his head without saying another word.

  “I don’t remember that,” Zia said, confused by the obvious disharmony between her and Rem.

  “That’s my point.” Jenni reached over and patted Zia’s arm. “I almost didn’t show you this, because the other one is so beautiful. But I can’t stand seeing you torture yourself, so I decided you needed to watch what really happened. Or at least, part of what really happened.”

  “But I don’t remember it.”

  “Because you don’t want to,” Jenni replied with a shrug. Then she stood up and motioned to Bea and Charlotte. “If we don’t leave soon, Dr. Fuller will send a nurse to yell at us. She needs to sleep.” Leaning down to where Zia was propped against bed pillows, she gave her a warm hug. “Don’t watch the mean one either, Zee. Just let it go. It was never meant to be, right?”

  “I don’t know,” Zia admitted, hitting the replay button stubbornly.

  Her friends said good-bye, and she responded without really hearing them, then waved to them without really seeing them.

  She could only see this vid. This thing that had never happened, even though it apparently did happen. She had been stoned, not dreamy-eyed. Rem had been harsh, not intense and sexy. It hadn’t been romantic at all.

  “But when he carried you,” she reminded herself, “that was the most romantic part. And that really happened, right? Your memory of that part is true, at least.”

  Except you weren’t even awake for it. You were unconscious! So how can you remember that part so vividly, but not this part?

  It was a bizarre thought, but also a familiar one. Wasn’t this the same experience Aengus Stone had had? Remembering every detail from a vid—checking his watch, dropping a diskette, knowing it to the tiniest detail—and yet having absolutely no memory? Or rather, a distorted one, of another part of the same event?

  And those aren’t the only two times it happened, Zia reminded herself warily. Remember? It was the same with your dreams during suspension. You remembered details so vividly—details that never happened, but they felt so real. That was odd too, right? You thought it was just because of the calmative—

  “Oh!” She clapped her hand over her mouth, instinctively willing the words not to come out, as though that would somehow change the truth.

  But the word was already out, wasn’t it?

  “It was the calmative that distorted everything for you. Both times. So?” She folded her arms across her chest and asked herself cautiously, “What distorted it for Aengus Stone?”

  * * * *

  “Thanks again, Dr. Annur. I know it’s a crazy favor to ask, but . . .” Zia paused to stare wistfully at the half tablet in her palm. It had been so kind of Dr. Fuller to give it to her before her trip to Malara. And so fortunate that on the return trip she hadn’t needed it. Hadn’t even thought about it.

  Until today.

  Reminding herself that Annur could be discreet, she pressed the broken pill into his clawed hand. “I didn’t have anyone else to ask. Ambassador Humber isn’t due back to Earth for a couple of days. And obviously I can’t trust my family doctor. Or anyone else in the Quito administration. Or Rem. And you’ve be
en such a great friend and ally. And your son helped me too. So you’re almost like family. So . . .”

  “It is an honor to assist you, Zia. You saved Malara, did you not? And if you consider myself and my son to be family, well, that is double the honor.” Annur pocketed the pill. “I will have the results for you in three days. Four at the most.”

  “The ceremony’s three days away. I really need the results before that if possible.”

  “We will do our best,” Annur promised.

  A new voice sounded from the doorway of the Hacienda’s vid room. “Zia?”

  She turned to smile at Sean Logan. “Commander! I’ve been wondering when you’d visit me.”

  “I must go,” Annur announced. “I will be in contact as soon as possible. Good-bye, Captain Quito. And you also, Commander.”

  “Thanks again, Doctor,” Zia said warmly. After Annur had departed, she teased Logan by saying, “So? Where have you been?”

  “They said you were too injured to take visitors,” he began, then he stopped himself and saluted her smartly. “Nice work, Captain Quito.”

  Zia punched her fist to her chest, then extended it in solemn tribute.

  “We’re going to have to work on that salute,” he grumbled. Then he opened his arms to her, and she went right to him, accepting the hug gratefully.

  “I’m so proud, Zee,” he murmured into her hair. “I wish your mother could have seen this. And I really wish Daniel Quito could have.”

  “You saw the battle vid?” she asked, pulling away and smiling impishly. “I stayed on my feet. Not exactly amazing, but good enough.”

  “You were phenomenal,” he corrected her. “Four days of pilot training, and you survived an attack by an Alluvan colossus. That’s the stuff of legends.”

  “What about Rem? That was legendary. He broke Grandpa’s record.”

  “Hardly,” Logan drawled. “He tied it—which is commendable. But he didn’t break it.”