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Powered (Mech Wars Book 1)

Page 7

by Scott Bartlett


  The structure dwarfed any warship he’d ever seen in vids or heard about, including even the Providence, the last supercarrier humanity had ever built—at least, as far as anyone in the Steele System knew.

  Valhalla had four main sections that spread out from a central core, like two sets of wings. The orbital station was all sweeping curves and no edges. It maintained a geosynchronous orbit over Eresos, and the planet’s single space elevator extended down from Valhalla’s center, until it became a near-invisible ribbon that vanished beneath a pillowy cloud cover.

  “It’s massive,” Jake said.

  Bronson turned to him. “You’ve never left Kuiper Belt 2, have you?”

  “Huh? Oh. No, I’ve been in the Belt ever since I was born.”

  “Well, lucky for you, you’ll experience exactly the same gravity here as you did there, thanks to the healthy Ocharium stores we brought with us when we first traveled to the Steele System.”

  “That’s good,” Jake said.

  Bronson nodded. “Enjoy it while it lasts. Soon, we’ll be injecting you with extra Ocharium nanites, to get you accustomed to the heavier gravity of Eresos.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The more Ocharium nanites his body had, the more it would attract the fermion matrix that infused every ship’s deck, as well as all of Valhalla’s flooring. Jake didn’t look forward to the experience of having more weight to carry around.

  Using Ocharium and fermions to simulate gravity was an example of dark tech, which also permitted the generation of wormholes—that was how Darkstream had reached the Steele System in the first place.

  Back in the Milky Way, Darkstream had learned that humanity’s use of dark tech was actually unraveling the fabric of the universe, and so since arriving here they’d wound down their use of dark tech by a lot. They’d scrapped the wormholes, along with the micronet that had once enabled instantaneous communication.

  That said, they still used it for gravity, figuring that since theirs was a relatively small fraction of humanity, that should result in minimal danger. In the short- and medium-term, at least.

  It’s possible that we’re not a fraction of humanity, of course. If the Ixa won the war, we might now be all of humanity. And if it’s true that the nearby stars could also hold powerful adversaries…

  Jake decided to abandon that line of thought. Bronson’s Coms officer communicated with a space traffic controller on Valhalla, who informed them that Landing Bay Theta was ready to receive them.

  Fewer than thirty minutes later, Bronson and Jake were exiting a shuttle’s airlock inside the designated landing bay.

  A tall man with a hard face met them outside the airlock. Short black hair stood at attention above a creased brow, which overshadowed a hooked nose.

  Jake cursed, drawing a sharp look from Bronson. “Sorry, sir. B-but that’s…that’s Gabriel Roach!”

  “Ah. Yes. I take it you’re a fan?”

  Since leaving his father’s comet hopper to journey into the inner system aboard the Javelin, Jake had attempted to display the proper deference toward officers, which he knew would be expected of him at all times once he enlisted. But he often slipped, and now was no different.

  Ignoring Bronson’s question, Jake stepped toward Roach, his entire body vibrating. “E-excuse me, sir, but…could I have your autograph?”

  Eyes widening and mouth twisting, Roach surged forward to grab Jake by the lapels, driving him backward until his back collided with the side of the shuttle. Pain shot through his torso, and he winced.

  Bronson observed the ordeal impassively, hands folded behind his back.

  “What’s your name, boy?” Roach said softly, his voice dripping with menace.

  “J-Jake Price, sir.”

  “Listen to me, Price. You will never ask me for anything again, least of all my autograph. I’m not your favorite video game character, nor am I your favorite movie star. From this day forward, I am merely your instructor and your superior officer, and you will merely follow every order I give without question. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jake was still shaking, but with an entirely different emotion, now.

  “Perfect.” Roach released him, and Jake slumped against the shuttle. He quickly righted himself, his cheeks burning.

  Roach stood with his back to him now, facing Bronson.

  “You didn’t have to be so hard on him right off the bat,” the destroyer captain said, in a tone one might use to inform a server that he’d brought the wrong type of cheesecake.

  “Sir, I can be hard on him now or the Quatro can tear him limb from limb upon their first encounter.”

  “That seems a bit dramatic.”

  “I’m sure it does seem dramatic, to a man who watches people bleed and die for him from space.”

  Bronson blinked, but offered no other reaction. Even so, Jake got the sense that Roach would pay for the disrespect he’d shown today.

  Roach paused to speak to a man standing at attention nearby, who Jake hadn’t noticed until now.

  “Wipe the kid’s nose for him and then show him his quarters. If he already wants to run back to his mother, send him out on the next shuttle.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With that, Gabriel Roach left Landing Bay Theta.

  Chapter 15

  Burpee

  Andy claimed that he was capable of simultaneously finding the safest path over Alex’s surface, attempting to establish communications with Habitat 1, and keeping an eye on satellite images of the surrounding area. Even so, he delegated the latter two tasks to Lisa most of the time.

  “I can do the multitasking, but it’ll be better for all of us if I don’t have to,” he said.

  As for why Andy could access satellite imagery but not the system-net, well, that was another mystery.

  Occasionally, usually toward the end of the day, Lisa wondered whether Andy was screwing with them. She accused him of it once, and he brought the beetle to a halt, getting up from the driver’s seat and gesturing toward it.

  “Go ahead, Lisa. See if you can raise Habitat 1.”

  And she’d tried. For a few minutes.

  Nothing. They had access to satellite photos of Alex, but not to communication with the rest of the Steele System.

  “Sorry,” she said, returning to her seat in the back.

  The beetle’s crew cabin wasn’t designed for sleep—almost every inch of it was taken up with vital instruments, and there was certainly no room for the seats to recline. Luckily, it did have an inflatable habitat, which Andy deployed out of the rear of the vehicle each night.

  The habitat even had its own airlock, which accordioned out. Stowing the thing each morning was a pain, but it was better than attempting to sleep in the cramped beetle, or worse, inside their pressure suits on the rocky surface of Alex.

  One morning, Tessa said something Lisa found fairly insulting. It came after Lisa asked whether they could be sure their oxygen supplies would last until Habitat 1, and as usual, Andy’s answer dripped with sarcasm.

  “Wow,” he said. “Okay. Think about this for a second, Lisa. Have you ever heard of Habitat 2 ever getting any oxygen shipments?”

  “Um, no.”

  “That’s because it has multiple large zirconia electrolyzers, all around the roof, constantly breaking down carbon dioxide for its oxygen and venting it into the city. The beetle has a smaller electrolyzer. We’ll have oxygen for as long as that’s functioning.”

  “Thank you for informing me, Andy,” Lisa said stiffly. Her father had always told her never to feel ashamed of admitting ignorance by asking a question. She’d always lived by that principle, but Andy sure was testing it.

  Then came Tessa’s remark. “What sort of training did Darkstream give you, anyway, Lisa?”

  That cracked Lisa’s emotional dam, and her temper came steaming out.

  “Well, they never trained me on any zirconia electrolyzer, Tessa. Maybe back in your day the company doled out training that had nothi
ng to do with an employee’s job, but they’ve become a bit more efficient since then.”

  Tessa chuckled, which only made Lisa angrier.

  “I passed every course I did take with flying colors, for your information,” she added.

  “That’s interesting,” Tessa said. “Considering how useless you were back at Habitat 2.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Shrugging, Tessa shifted in her seat, leaning against the beetle’s inside wall and facing Lisa. “Your disguise back at the Swinging Eel was laughable. And you crumbled when faced with just two low-level criminals. What did you actually do back in Habitat 2, other than the handful of arrests you made for possession?”

  “I can handle myself, Tessa. You can see for yourself, if you like. Why not fight me in lucid?”

  “Lucid,” Tessa said, chuckling again. “Of course it’s lucid. All right, girl. I’ll see you in lucid. You choose the terrain.”

  “Done.” Lisa popped a sedative designed to boost REM sleep and tried her best to get comfortable in the beetle seat.

  Soon, she stood in one of her favorite levels: a vast warehouse with “islands” of freight that formed narrow corridors between them. She knew the paths that led to the top of three different islands, and if you were stealthy and patient, it was possible to get the drop on even the most formidable opponent.

  Lisa crept to the top of a central island that consisted of stacked shipping containers. She relished her ability to leap from surface to surface silently, like a cat.

  From her chosen vantage point, she scanned the three pathways in her line of sight, taking full advantage of her assault rifle’s scope.

  A flicker of movement caught her eye. There.

  Tracking her opponent’s anticipated trajectory, she was rewarded with another flicker of dark clothing, and she fired a short burst.

  Tessa cried out, spinning out of sight once more, and Lisa allowed herself a moment of silent celebration. She was sure she’d gotten Tessa in the shoulder.

  In the dream, Tessa’s fear would be real, as well as her pain. This wouldn’t take long. I told you I could fight, Tessa.

  Remaining in this position was not wise, now that she’d given it up by firing on her adversary. Instead, she crept across the top of this freight island and leapt over to the next, which was the only way you could access it.

  Time to find another spot to lie in wait for my prey.

  This second island consisted mostly of wide crates, stacked in towers, all of which rested on a bed of pallets that sat flush with one another. Lisa knew of another excellent vantage point up here, which would give her a line of sight on two well-trafficked ground-level paths.

  Just before she reached her chosen spot, a blur of black surged toward her from behind a nearby crate.

  Tessa struck Lisa’s gun hand, sending her assault rifle flying.

  Raising her hands to defend herself, she deflected the first blow, but a hammerhand got her in the temple, followed by a roundhouse to the ribs.

  Lisa staggered dangerously close to the edge before regaining her balance. Then, she charged Tessa.

  The old woman seized her as though she was a rag doll, tossing her against the crate from behind which Tessa had emerged.

  Lisa’s assailant followed along, landing a jab on her jaw, and then a hook that found her eye.

  Railing against the blinding pain, stumbling toward Tessa in an attempt to tackle her, Lisa yelled in frustration. Somehow, Tessa’s foot connected with her buttocks, sending her staggering toward the edge once again.

  Tessa followed, tripping Lisa. She fell, her body colliding with the wood of the crate beneath her, sending the air out of her lungs.

  Then Tessa was on top of her, clutching the hair on the back of her head, making tears spring to Lisa’s eyes. The dizzying drop stretched below her.

  “Take a good look,” the old woman said, and then she sent Lisa hurtling over the edge. The concrete floor of the warehouse rushed up to meet her.

  The dream ended, and Lisa jolted awake in her seat, heart hammering in her chest.

  She looked at Tessa. “How—how did you—?”

  “Beat you?” Tessa looked fully alert, as though she’d never been asleep at all. “Easy. I’ve had actual military training, not this lucid crap Darkstream uses to puff up its new recruits. I trained in the UHF, girl. Whereas you’ve let yourself be convinced by fictions. You’re used to dreaming that you’re stronger and braver than you actually are.”

  “What are you talking about? Lucid has been an important part of the Darkstream recruitment process for almost a decade.”

  “And it’s a useful tool—if you use it correctly. Darkstream doesn’t. You passed their tests while you still lived out in the Belt, right?”

  “Yes…”

  “Well, those tests are essentially useless, unless you have an experienced soldier who’s used to training recruits and who’s able to physically test you. Not in the dream—in real life. Yes, the implants can lend structure to our dreams, but there’s still plenty of room for the subconscious to influence an improperly calibrated sim. You need a real-live person who can test your actual abilities and your fear responses, in real life, and who can then calibrate your implant to simulate them properly. You, Lisa—I hate to tell you—you’re strong-spirited but you aren’t much else. The problem’s rather pronounced in your case, because you’re good at convincing yourself that you’re great. But you’re not. You’re a weak, incapable soldier.”

  Lisa’s eyes strung, but she refused to give in to tears. Her gaze drifted to Andy, to see how he was reacting to Tessa’s commentary, but for once he knew not to speak. He kept his eyes glued to the terrain before the beetle.

  “Well, thanks,” Lisa said, her voice a little shaky. “Thanks for that.”

  “There’s a reason I’m being this harsh, girl,” Tessa said, her voice just a jot more tender than before. “I wouldn’t be so candid with you if I wasn’t willing to train you.”

  “You said I need UHF training,” Lisa said flatly. “Not this ‘Darkstream lucid crap.’”

  Tessa nodded. “You do indeed. Your training should involve the mental, physical, and emotional rigors of actual military training. And you’re in luck. The UHF may be in another galaxy, but you have me. I trained soldiers for the UHF before I went to work for Darkstream.”

  Slowly, Lisa nodded. “All right. Fine. When do we begin?”

  “Right now.” Tessa moved from her seat to the empty one next to Andy. “Do you know what a burpee is?” she asked Lisa without looking at her.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. There should be enough room in the aisle. For the push-up part, you can spread your arms out between the seats. Now get to it. And don’t forget to compensate for the beetle’s movement. No need to have you bouncing around the cabin and bothering the rest of us.”

  “How many do you want me to do?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll let you know once I do. Maybe.”

  Chapter 16

  Firing a Real Gun

  It turned out Tessa wanted her to do as many burpees as it took for her arms to become limp noodles and for her to collapse on the beetle floor in a sweaty, panting heap.

  When they stopped for the night, as Andy inflated their portable habitat, Tessa set up some virtual targets on a cliff face a few dozen meters away from their campsite. She sent them to Lisa’s implant, which painted them maroon, right over the blue rock.

  “Why can’t we just do this in lucid?” Lisa asked.

  “Because there’s no replacement for firing a real gun, girl.”

  An hour of shooting told Tessa that Lisa’s accuracy needed a lot of work, which she announced over a wide channel as they were stripping off their suits inside the habitat airlock and using the built-in vacuum to catch as much of the blue dust as they could before entering their temporary home.

  The inflatable habitat consisted of a central area with four private “bedroom” bubbles leading
out of it. The portals to the bedrooms also sealed tight, so that if there was a leak in one section, it wouldn’t affect them all.

  It was just one of many safety precautions, of course: an alarm was supposed to sound in the event of a leak, allowing them to repair it in plenty of time.

  Hopefully.

  It depended on the size of the leak.

  “I’m heading to bed,” Lisa said. “I’m wiped.”

  “No, you’re not,” Tessa said.

  “Huh? Yes I am. I’m exhausted.”

  “You can address me as ma’am,” Tessa said. “And I wasn’t disagreeing that you’re tired. I’m disagreeing that you’re going to bed. I want fifty shock push-ups, right now, and that’s just to start.”

  “What’s a shock push-up?”

  Tessa demonstrated, performing a regular push-up on the way down but throwing herself into the air with her hands and clapping before catching herself and lowering into another rep. “Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lisa said wearily, and got into position herself.

  “Keep your back straight, Seaman,” Tessa barked. “You’re letting it droop.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lisa grunted.

  Andy sat on one of the air-filled seats that projected from the inner wall of the habitat, looking on, wearing a blank expression. He seemed to be lost in thought.

  Not Tessa. She stood in the space between two of the seats, berating Lisa for her poor form.

  “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, Seaman!” Tessa yelled. “I see you letting your back droop again. If you don’t straighten it right now, and keep it straight, I’m going to sit on it. Then I’m going to want twenty more shock push-ups, with me riding shotgun. So straighten up.”

  Ninety minutes later, Tessa said, “Okay. That’ll do for tonight.”

  Lisa allowed herself to fall back from the leg raise she’d been performing, her chest heaving, her eyes wandering across the ceiling of the habitat.

  “I’m heading to bed,” Tessa said. “You’re welcome to do that as well, girl, if you can make it there.” Opening the portal to her bedroom bubble, Tessa disappeared inside it, sealing it shut behind her.

 

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