by Jake Bible
***
Capreze switched back and forth on his tablet between the multiple vid feeds recorded by Bisby’s mech.
The picture was rough, but clear enough to make the Commander’s gut clench. He tossed the tablet onto his desk, leaned back in his chair and sighed.
A knock at his door brought him upright. “Enter.”
Doctor Themopolous came in.
“How’s the Rookie, Doc?”
“Mildly dehydrated with some minor cuts to his hands from the trip,” she responded. “He slept nearly eighteen hours and checked out fine this morning.”
“Good, good,” Capreze muttered.
The Doctor eyed him. “How are you doing this morning?”
***
The Rookie wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped back into the barracks. Rachel was seated on her bunk, waiting.
“You know, water doesn’t grow on trees around here,” she smiled. “Well, nothing grows on trees, not even trees.”
“Sorry, I haven’t showered in a few days.”
“No problem,” Rachel hopped off her bunk. “Hurry up and lets get some chow.” Rachel waited, watching.
The Rookie crossed to his bunk. “Umm, is this a hazing thing or do you watch all the guys get dressed?”
Rachel laughed. “Boy, we all eat, sleep, shower and shit together. Get over it.”
***
Capreze squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of the recovered data.
“Commander…?” Doctor Themopolous asked, worried by Capreze’s expression.
“Hmm..? Oh, sorry, Doc. What was the question?”
“How are you feeling? Same nightmare last night?”
Capreze chuckled. “No, new nightmare. But this one’s real.”
Themopolous narrowed her eyes questioningly. Capreze leaned forward and handed his tablet to her. “Take a look at this for me. Tell me what you think.”
Themopolous activated the data, puzzled. Within seconds she realized what she was watching. “Is this…?”
“Yes,” Capreze answered solemnly. “Watch the deader. I want your opinion.”
Themopolous frowned.
***
Rachel and the Rookie stepped into the mess. All heads turned. Mathew, Masters, Harlow, June, each quickly sized up the Rookie.
“Rookie! Glad to see you awake!” Masters boomed as he jumped from his seat, offering the Rookie his hand. “Mitch Masters, best damn mech pilot in this base. Glad to meet you.”
“Um, thanks,” the Rookie responded, taken aback by Masters’ enthusiasm. “I’m—”
“The Rookie,” Harlow said, stepping past Masters to shake hands. “That’s all we need to know.”
“Really? You don’t want to know my name?”
“Why? You’ll probably die horribly tomorrow. What’s the point?” Masters winked.
***
“Sir, I’m really not–” Themoplous started.
“Just watch the deader,” Capreze interrupted. “Watch Closely.”
Themopolous continued to watch the vids. Soon it was over and she handed the tablet back to Capreze.
“Well?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what you want me to say…”
“What’s your take on the deader?”
“My take?”
“Its behavior, the way it acted…the way it roared.”
Themopolous gathered her thoughts then cautiously started in. “Knowing nothing of dead mech behavior…”
Capreze waved her off, motioning for her to get on with it.
“Okay. Without anthropomorphizing too much, I’d say the ‘deader’ was…mad.”
***
The Rookie grabbed a tray and followed behind Rachel.
“Okay, so nothing here is real. Just a heads up in case you’re used to something a little more…” Rachel trailed off.
“Life-like?” Masters hollered.
“Exactly,” Rachel smiled. “It’s all good, it’s just synth.”
The Rookie perused the selections. “Looks real enough. I’m used to…different.” He slapped a spoonful of synth-eggs onto his tray, added some synth-bacon and finished it off with a blueberry muffin.
“Oooh, not those,” Rachel said, putting the muffin back. “Steve hasn’t perfected the blueberries yet.”
“Gave me the shits for a week!” Masters hollered again.
***
“Mad? Which definition?” Capreze asked.
“Insane. Whether it was driven to madness or not, I can’t tell,” Themopolous responded cautiously.
“Driven? How do you mean?”
“You have heard the term ‘driven mad’ before, correct?”
“Yes, Doctor, I have heard the term. But, what does that have to do with this deader?”
Themopolous took a deep breath then let it out slowly and fixed her gaze on Capreze. “Any animal can go mad, regardless of its intelligence. But, to be driven mad…”
The Commander motioned for Themopolous to continue.
“It needs a certain level of intelligence. A high level of intelligence.”
***
“Okay, so when does the hazing start?” the Rookie asked, looking around the table.
“Hazing?” Mathew asked.
“Yes, hazing. Y’all have been pretty nice so far, except for yesterday’s run-in with…?”
“Bisby,” Harlow helped.
“Bisby, right. Should I be worried?”
“Only if you don’t want your ass handed to you,” Bisby’s voice growled from the mess door.
The Rookie glanced at the other pilots. Mathew shrugged.
“Let it go, Biz,” Masters said.
“Was I talking to you?”
“Seriously? Grab some coffee and sit the fuck down, asshole,” responded Masters.
Bisby glared at the Rookie then turned to the mess line.
***
The Commander paced back and forth behind his desk. Themopolous waited patiently for Capreze to collect his thoughts. Finally, he stopped, placed his hands firmly on his desk and addressed the Doctor.
“So how do we know whether this thing is just basic crazy or smart crazy?”
“Observation. Collect data about the thing’s behavior, analyze the data and, well, make an educated guess,” Themopolous answered.
“A guess? You want me to send my pilots out there on a guess?”
Themopolous’ cheeks reddened. “Sir, I’m not suggesting anything. You asked my professional opinion. The course of action is up to you.”
***
“So are the other pilots patrolling?” The Rookie asked.
Harlow chuckled. “Other pilots? Rookie, you’re looking at the ‘other’ pilots.”
The Rookie was taken aback. He scanned the faces around him, looking for the joke. He quickly realized there wasn’t one.
“This is it? Just us?” the Rookie asked with alarm.
Bisby slammed his tray down directly across from the Rookie. “There is no ‘us’ for you Rookie.” He glared across the table then smiled and tossed a muffin at the Rookie’s face. The Rookie easily caught the muffin, crushing it slightly. Bisby smiled wider.
“Have a muffin. It’s blueberry.”
***
“There is one other thing, sir,” the Doctor said grudgingly.
“This should be good,” the Commander quipped. “What else you got for me Doc?”
“A sample would be helpful.”
“Sample?”
Themopolous looked at the floor.
“Come on, Doc, you’re a professional here. Out with it,” Capreze commanded.
“I need a zombie pilot’s brain,” she whispered.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Capreze laughed harshly. “That’s a little more than observation.”
“And I need it intact,” Themopolous continued.
Caprezez stared at her, stunned. “Of course you do…”
“It’s the only way to be sure, sir.”
&
nbsp; Capreze laughed again. “Of course it is…”
***
Masters laughed at the look on the Rookie’s face. “Wow, you had no idea at all, did you?”
The Rookie shook his head in disbelief. “What, that the survival of human civilization rests on only us? No. That isn’t how the UDC spins it in the city/states.”
“Don’t make me tell you again, Rookie. You are not part of us,” Bisby growled. “Eat your muffin.”
The Rookie ignored Bisby. “Okay, that’ll take some processing. So, if we are all here, then who’s patrolling? Doesn’t there have to be a patrol out at all times?”
“EAT THE FUCKING MUFFIN!” Bisby roared.
***
Jethro ignored the other sixteen monitors, his eyes darting back and forth between the four he was seated directly in front of. He deftly worked a large joystick with one hand while flipping switches with his other.
“Okay, let’s see what we have here…,” he muttered.
“Anything fun yet?” Jay asked suddenly, making Jethro jump and yank on the joystick. The images on the monitors shook violently.
“Jeezus Fuck! Will you please knock?!? What if I had Three on a ledge or something? It would be fucking pieces right now!”
Jay smirked. “How’s Three holding up?”
“Just fine,” Jethro grumbled.
***
In an instant the Rookie and Bisby were out of their seats and face to face.
“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, old man, but you better back the fuck off,” the Rookie spat, his voice low and even.
Bisby laughed. “Old man? You think you can take me, you little shit?”
“Yes,” the Rookie answered matter-of-factly.
“Fine then,” Bisby smiled. Before the grin left his face he brought his knee up, aiming for the rookie’s groin.
The Rookie countered quickly, stomping his foot down on Bisby’s, stopping the nut shot.
Bisby stumbled back.
“Oh, you’re dead Rookie…”
***
“What is that?” Jay asked, taking a closer look at the monitor.
“That’s what I was trying to find out,” snapped Jethro.
“Okay, sorry. No panty bunchin’ required,” Jay apologized.
The two mechanics remained silent, watching the monitor. Suddenly something obscured the view, then the four monitors connected to mini-mech Three’s feed turned to static.
“What the fuck happened?” Jay yelled.
Jethro checked a diagnostic screen, typing madly at his keyboard. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”
“Well?”
“It’s gone.”
“Gone? Nothing? Check the homing beacon,” Jay ordered.
“It’s gone Rind. Not a blip.”
Jay sighed. “We better tell Capreze.”
***
Masters grabbed the Rookie as Harlow shoved Bisby back.
“Knock it off Biz!” Harlow yelled. “We’re all torn up about Stan, but don’t take it out on the Rookie!”
“Fuck you Harlow! Get the fuck out of my way!” Bisby roared. “I’m gonna fuck him up!”
“Try it you burned out fuckstick!” the Rookie yelled back.
“Actually, I say let ‘em,” Rachel said casually from the table. All eyes turned on her. “I’ve seen his file. Apparently our Rookie has some skills. Let’s take this to the gym and see what he’s got.”
“Perfect,” growled Bisby.
“Perfect,” mocked the Rookie.
***
Capreze stood before the static filled monitors. “Okay, so what am I looking at? I thought you said you had Three back online.”
“It was,” Jethro answered. “Worked perfectly.”
“Okay. So what then?”
“Watch,” said Jay as Three’s last vid feed started to play.
Capreze watched impatiently. “Gentlemen, I have a lot to do today. This had better–” Capreze stopped short as once again something moved quickly in front of Three and then the feed went dead. “What was that?”
“Not a fucking clue,” answered Jay.
“Weren’t there any readings? Any proximity warnings?” Capreze asked.
“No. Nothing,” Jethro answered.
***
“Give the pads to the Rookie,” Bisby snorted, knocking the protective headgear from Mathew’s hands.
Mathew glared at Bisby, bent down, retrieved the gear and offered it to the Rookie.
“No thanks. Only reason I’d need a pad is to soak up all the blood this asshole is going to bleed,” the Rookie taunted.
“Oh, I like this guy,” Masters laughed from the edge of the sparring mat.
“Okay, gentlemen. The rules are—” Mathew started, but was quickly interrupted.
“Fuck rules!” Bisby shouted.
“Fine by me,” the Rookie shrugged, cracking his neck.
Mathew sighed. “Okay. Fine. Have at it.”
***
“What about the other mini-mechs?” Capreze asked, irritated.
“They’re fine, sir,” Jethro responded.
“Which one is closest?”
“One, I guess, although it would take it about an hour to get to Three’s position.”
“Then get it going,” barked Capreze, turning to Rind. “Can you make anything of this Jay?”
“Not a goddamn thing,” Jay said, playing the vid feed again. “Alarms should have gone off whether it’s mech, zombie or other.”
“Other? What other?” Capreze’s eyes narrowed.
“Human,” Jay said. “Waster, culter, whatever.”
“Just because you put an -er at the end doesn’t make it a word, Jay,” Jethro joked.
***
The Rookie dodged Bisby’s first swing, shuffling to the side.
“Dancer, eh?” Bisby taunted. “Too bad, I like the arts.”
The Rookie laughed, batting away another jab and slapping Bisby upside the head.
Bisby feinted right then brought his left fist up in a powerful uppercut. The Rookie crossed his arms, blocking the uppercut and sending Bisby off balance. Using the advantage, the Rookie shoved Bisby to the mat.
Bisby immediately jumped to his feet, face dark red with rage. “Stop fucking around! Come on!”
“Okay,” the Rookie said, landing a lighting fast roundhouse kick to Bisby’s jaw. “How’s that?”
***
“Okay, sir, One has a new directive and is heading to Three’s last position,” Jethro said, pushing back from the mini-mech console. “Should only take about forty minutes to get there.”
“Good. Keep me posted,” Capreze commanded, heading out the control room door. “Let me know the second you find anything.”
Jay and Jethro watched the Commander leave then turned back to the screens. They watched them in silence, each lost in their own thought processes.
“Fuck this shit,” Jay said, stepping away from the console. “You want anything from the mess?”
“Coffee. Lots of it,” Jethro responded.
“Can do.”
***
The Rookie stood over Bisby’s prone form. He watched the stunned pilot struggle with consciousness then turned to the rest.
“Anyone else?” the Rookie laughed.
Harlow quickly unzipped her uniform, stripping down to her boxers and bra. “Looks like I finally have a challenge.”
The Rookie’s eyes widened. “I was kidding. I don’t have a problem with you.”
“And I don’t have a problem with you,” Harlow said casually. “But it’s my duty to hand every mech pilot their ass. It’s good for character.”
“Is she serious?” the Rookie asked, looking at each pilot.
“Yes,” they all answered in unison.
***
“Fucking fuck shit he’s fast!”
The words from the gym stopped Jay. “What the fuck?” Coffee retrieval would have to wait.
The scene he walked into gave him
a gut clench. “Oh, this isn’t good…” He sidled up to Mathew. “What the fuck is this?”
“Hey Jay,” Mathew greeted the mechanic. “Just blowing off some steam. Kind of a get to know you moment for the Rookie.”
“She’ll kill him.”
“I don’t know about that,” Bisby said from behind them, an ice pack on his jaw.
“What the…?”
“Fucking Rookie.”
Jay turned back to the sparring match, his interest piqued.
***
Jethro sighed, irritated Jay hadn’t returned. He clicked his com. “Where the fuck are you Rind?”
“Holy shit! You have to come see this!” Jay’s voice crackled back.
“See what?”
“The Rookie is holding his own against Harlow!”
Jethro shoved away from the console, instantly on his feet. “What?!? Oh, fuck! I’ll be right there!”
He typed a couple commands into the keyboard, grabbed a tablet, double-checked the vid feed had transferred and dashed out the door.
Directly into Commander Capreze. “Um, Commander…I thought you were in your office.”
Capreze frowned. “Going somewhere mechanic?”
Jethro smiled weakly. “Um, well…”
***
Harlow grabbed the Rookie by his neck, slipping around behind him, knocking his legs out from under him and slamming him to the mat.
The audible crunch of the Rookie’s nose made the spectators cringe.
“Jeezus, baby, don’t kill him before he gets his first mech,” Masters laughed.
“Yes, Pilot Harlow, please don’t. The paperwork I would have to fill out would put me in a very foul mood,” Commander Caprese said, stepping into the training room.
“Commander on deck!” Mathew announced.
All but one stood at immediate attention.
“How is that different than any other mood, Commander?” Bisby quipped.
***
“Jay? Jay! Come in dammit! Capreze’s on his way!”
“Yeah, I know. He’s here already,” Jay responded. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Dude, I tried. He blocked my com. I just now got the override in place,” Jethro listened for a second. “Is it bad?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
“Mechanics? Please get off the com right now,” Capreze’s voice barked.