Dynamo (Mech Wars Book 2)
Page 17
It was Peter Price. He had appeared in front of Jake, alongside Bronson.
Jake looked from Peter to Bronson and back again. He shook his head to clear it, but his father remained.
“How…how are you here?” he asked.
“What are you talking about?” Peter said.
Then, Jake recognized Bronson’s strange expression for what it was. Guilt.
“I did that,” Bronson said. He hesitated, then spoke all in a rush: “I manipulated your lucid dream to simulate your father dying.”
Peter stared at Bronson, looking aghast, and Jake did too, though the others couldn’t see the expression he wore. If Bronson could have seen it, he would have felt very lucky that Jake was paralyzed from the EMP.
Because Jake felt like taking apart the man’s warship, piece by piece.
“You monster,” he managed at last, from inside his immobile mech. “You bastard.”
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Bronson said. “I had no choice.”
But Jake had no more words for the man. He waited for them to release him from his metal prison, and he mulled over what he would do next.
Chapter 53
Subsumed
Yes.
The way he bonded with the whispers, now…it reminded him of how he’d once bonded with his fellow Quatro. The way he’d shared in their fortune and misfortune, in their happiness and grief. All of the Quatro bound up together, as one drift, all progressing in the same direction.
Those days were past. Wound saw them for what they really were: an illusion.
And just look at the evidence.
The way even the Quatro in battle suits had fallen to the humans…that had been the universe administering justice to them, for their multifarious shortcomings.
There’s only one Quatro I care for, anymore.
Wound did not even want to consider the four Quatro in battle suits who had fled and not returned. They were not worthy of having any thought devoted to them at all.
I do not care. Wound was digging toward the only Quatro he ever wanted to associate with again. They still had her inside the walls of Ingress; he was sure of it. The whispers had told him, and he believed everything those whispers said, because they would not lie to him. They were him.
The humans could seal off this tunnel if they wanted. Or, if they realized he was still here, they could come in to face him and he would kill them.
I will kill them all, for my mate. Even my own kind, if it comes to that.
Wound scraped a metal paw over the tunnel floor, wanting to spit. They are my own kind no longer.
He continued digging.
There was one who worried him…who he was not confident he could defeat. The human who had taken control of the bipedal mech that resembled Wound’s own battle suit…the one who had led the four Quatro in battle suits away from the tunnel mouth…
That would be a fight Wound might not emerge from victorious, or at all.
Fear not that one, the whispers told him. He will join us once we are through with him. A human subject merely needs more time.
“More time…” Wound muttered.
More time. To join our drift. Our special drift. The true drift.
“Yes…”
The Quatro are used to considering themselves part of a larger whole, which is why you were…subsumed…so quickly.
“Yes!” Wound roared, then stopped, suddenly afraid those aboveground would hear him.
He continued digging. No more distractions. He’d keep working, keep digging, until he entered the city.
Nothing would stop him. He would be with his mate, then.
And together, they would slaughter everything that lived.
Epilogue
Progenitor
Bronson set his implant to “Do Not Disturb” mode and entered his office, making sure to lock the hatch behind him.
Only then did he permit himself to let loose the ragged sigh that had been waiting to come out ever since Jake Price had learned the truth of what Bronson had done.
The boy had taken it harder than even Bronson had expected. His people were in the shuttle bay now, extracting Price so that they could repair and reactivate his MIMAS. Bronson did not look forward to facing the boy, and he had no intention of being around him while he was piloting his mech. Not for a while, anyway. Bronson didn’t actually think the boy would do anything to him, but he also wasn’t an idiot.
A notification appeared in his implant’s HUD—one that made his breath catch in his throat.
The Progenitors wanted to speak with him.
Well, he had a few things to say to them, in light of what had just happened.
He strode across his office, used his implant to open a panel concealed in the bulkhead, then slapped it with his palm. It registered his biometrics, causing the entire bulkhead to slide aside to reveal a robot that towered over Bronson by two feet.
He made it back to his desk chair before the thing activated, stepping out from its enclosure to tower over Bronson’s desk. The machine was made of interwoven plates of silver- and gold-colored metal. It had no weapons, though Bronson felt sure there was power in those hands. Power enough to strangle him, probably, if it wanted.
You can tell by the way it moves.
But the robot wasn’t here to strangle him. It was a telepresence robot, which the Progenitors used to interact with Bronson without actually having to be here. There was never any lag in their communications, as if the creature controlling the robot was somewhere on Bronson’s ship, though he knew that was impossible.
As always, the Progenitor waited for Bronson to speak first.
“My sensor operator saw more of those little killers leaving other comets,” he said. “All headed toward Eresos. What do you know about them?”
“They are ours,” the Progenitor said. Its voice was baritone, though every word seemed to individually echo, or maybe stutter was the right word. Bronson wondered whether that was what the alien actually sounded like. Probably, the robot altered the controller’s voice. For some reason, Bronson got the sense that it didn’t want him to know anything about its actual appearance.
“Yours?” Bronson said. “They’re under your control, then?”
“They are under the control of the directives with which we installed them. We left them behind, for the function you are about to witness them perform.”
“They seem to be attacking Eresos,” Bronson said, anger creeping into his voice.
“That is correct.”
“What the hell, then!” Bronson yelled, jumping up from his seat, hands curled at his sides. “You assured me human settlements would only be threatened enough to drive contracts, not to endanger their very existence! The Quatro have already unwittingly created a boom for Darkstream. There’s no need to send these robots!”
The Progenitor made its own fist, using it to lean on the desk and lower its head closer to Bronson’s. “Have your profits not steadily risen? Has our arrangement not proved incredibly lucrative to you? Have you not built your entire society on the yield of our machines?”
“Well, yes…”
“Then you will continue to conduct wholesale surveillance of your population, and you will continue to give the data to us, wholly unfiltered. I advise you review the incredible dividends you are reaping as a direct result of our relationship, at such minimal cost to you.”
Bronson’s hands shook with impotent rage. “Do I have your assurance that human settlements will be left intact?”
“I assure you that our arrangement has not changed.”
“Very well,” Bronson spat.
Apparently finished with their conversation, the Progenitor returned to its alcove, which closed behind it.
Bronson sat back down at his desk, covering his face with his hands.
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Dedication
To my mother, Valerie.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Jeff Rudolph for offering insightful editorial input and helping to make this book as strong as it could be.
Thank you to Tom Edwards for creating such stunning cover art.
Thank you to my family - your support means everything.
Thank you to Cecily, my heart.
Thank you to the people who read my stories, write reviews, and help spread the word. I couldn’t do this without you.
I hope you’ll consider giving some feedback :)
One of the best parts of being an author is hearing what my readers thought of my book. Would you consider leaving a review for Dynamo?
Of course I’ll leave a review!
Table of Contents
Contents
Copyright
Onslaught
Chapter 1: Into the Shadows
Chapter 2: Quads
Chapter 3: Classic Conspiracy Theorist
Chapter 4: Valiant
Chapter 5: Two-Legged Murderers
Chapter 6: Mating Ritual Initiated
Chapter 7: Fury and Justice
Chapter 8: Adventurous Benders
Chapter 9: Act like a Soldier
Chapter 10: Played
Chapter 11: Vaguely Humanoid
Chapter 12: Militia
Chapter 13: Not Just a War of Expansion
Chapter 14: Extermination Is Also Acceptable
Chapter 15: Operational Details
Chapter 16: Eyes Aglow
Chapter 17: Feedback Mechanism
Chapter 18: Creative Karma
Chapter 19: Sucker for Punishment
Chapter 20: Alliance
Chapter 21: Infiltration
Chapter 22: Imminent Danger
Chapter 23: Back in Business
Chapter 24: On Patrol
Chapter 25: Security Station
Chapter 26: If I Bleed, I Bleed
Chapter 27: A Lot to Answer For
Chapter 28: Contract Violation
Chapter 29: Significant Deviations
Chapter 30: Jump
Chapter 31: This Thing Is Moving
Chapter 32: Coma
Chapter 33: That Which Nullifies
Chapter 34: Try Something Else
Chapter 35: All the Cards
Chapter 36: Oxygen
Chapter 37: Billy's Bunker
Chapter 38: Slave State
Chapter 39: Play with Explosives
Chapter 40: More Hectic than Expected
Chapter 41: Paste
Chapter 42: Nature's Original Shape
Chapter 43: Our Best Idea
Chapter 44: Training
Chapter 45: A Monster or a Coward
Chapter 46: Supposed to Be the Best
Chapter 47: Defensive Formation
Chapter 48: The Long-Term Doesn't Matter
Chapter 49: Lay Down Your Guns
Chapter 50: Payload
Chapter 51: Dynamo
Chapter 52: No Choice
Chapter 53: Subsumed
Epilogue: Progenitor
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Thank You!