Meltdown (Mech Wars Book 3)

by Scott Bartlett

  She still had to swap in a second magazine to finish the job, and the Gatherer surged forward as she did. When her back connected with the rock face, panic surged through Lisa, and she desperately tried to click the magazine into place.

  At last, she got it, opening fire. This Gatherer only took two rounds from the second clip before exploding.

  Either the rock helped, or my aim’s getting better.

  She spotted Rug to her right, contending with three of the beasts. The Quatro blasted one clean apart with her energy weapon, and then she swiped at another as it leapt toward her, knocking it into the rock and causing it to shatter in a satisfying cascade of sparks and shrapnel.

  Even though Rug had vanquished it, the second Gatherer had managed to bloody Rug’s paw, and the third latched onto her side, ripping savagely into flesh.

  Wincing, Lisa fired at the thing, praying she didn’t harm her friend in the process.

  She got one round in before Rug yelled, “Stop!”

  Lisa did, and the Quatro slammed the Gatherer against the rock—once, twice.

  The robot finally disintegrated with the second blow.

  “Let me see,” Lisa said, reaching for Rug’s side, which glistened with blood in the dim light provided by their jumpsuits.

  “No time,” Rug said, charging at a Gatherer that was menacing Tessa. The Quatro batted it against the wall, where it exploded.

  Nodding at Rug, Tessa turned to fire on another Gatherer with a shotgun.

  Ten minutes later, the battle was over, with all the Gatherers destroyed.

  But not without exacting an awful toll on Lisa’s militia. When she finally made it to him, Rodney Vickers stared into space with glassy eyes. Lisa was just closing his eyelids with her fingers when she heard a shriek from behind her.

  She turned to see Beatie Anderson—a good soldier—holding her own intestines in her hands.

  “End it,” Anderson moaned. “Please, please.”

  Lisa shot a glance behind her shoulder, feeling helpless.

  I can’t do this. No way I can do this.

  Her gaze found Tessa, who was already walking past, her features tightening as she drew her pistol to place it against Anderson’s head.

  “Goodbye, friend,” Tessa said. “You served well.”

  Anderson only sobbed, until the shot rang out, and she fell backward, her skull glancing off a rock with a sickening crack. She still clutched her innards between her fingers.

  Turning to face Lisa, Tessa reholstered her pistol.

  “I—” Lisa said, and it came out as a croak. Her chin wobbled, and she felt like sitting on the tunnel floor and crying.

  You lead these people, Lisa Sato. Get it together. Now.

  “This…” She swallowed. “What does this mean? The Gatherers…they’ve never…”

  “It means things just got a lot more dire on this planet,” Tessa answered, and Lisa thought she could hear the “girl” that she didn’t add. “And we’ve only just arrived.”

  Rug joined them. “We must move forward. If these Gatherers were reprogrammed by my people to bring more resources to them, then those Quatro could be in danger. More will be coming.”

  Lisa nodded, wiping her eyes on her upper arm. “Neutralize every Gatherer we encounter. We won’t let them travel among us like that anymore. They won’t get that advantage again.”

  She didn’t know whether the others found her words comforting, but they did nothing for her, personally. They couldn’t bring back Vickers, or Anderson.

  Checking over her assault rifle, she moved to take the lead as they progressed down into the pitch-black of underground.

  Chapter 23

  Cordage

  As fast as the MIMAS mechs were, the quads were faster, and so, it seemed, were the Quatro in general.

  We’ve never had the problem of having to chase them before, Ash reflected.

  Probably, Chief Roach would have been able to catch up to them on his own, but he seemed newly attuned to the need for Oneiri Team to continue functioning as a united force.

  Facing down fifty plus Quatro will do that.

  That said, Roach had performed more than admirably while taking on three quads simultaneously. Even before fusing with the alien mech, the man had possessed battle calm in spades, but now his movements spoke of an entity that interfaced with battle, making it dance to a tune he played.

  The moment they’d lost sight of their quarry, Marco had projected the enemy’s probable trajectory and deduced that they were headed straight for Cordage, another Glades village.

  “I wonder if it’s a fluke, that their escape route is taking them toward another settlement,” Henrietta said when Marco shared the news.

  “I doubt it, Razor,” Roach said. “I’d bet the Quatro have extensive intel on this area.”

  Again, Roach surprised Ash by using the nickname she’d only just come up with for Henrietta Jin.

  He really is making an effort to reintegrate with the team.

  She experienced a glimmer of hope, then.

  Maybe we can win this thing, after all.

  They reached the village as dawn was breaking, the trees thinning once more, giving way to structures. Now that she could see them without engaging her night vision, and she had time to actually study them for a second, Ash saw that the homes were designed to match the forest, with logs that had not been cut to give that right-angle, rectangular look most buildings had. Instead, they cascaded down the buildings in waves. Somehow, the resulting aesthetic managed to appear elegant rather than ramshackle.

  There was no sign of Quatro anywhere, though Ash now knew better than to take that as a reason to relax.

  Still, a few villagers had already emerged from their homes into the early morning. The first person Oneiri came across was cutting wood behind what was presumably her home.

  When she noticed the mechs approaching, she dropped her ax, wavering as though about to flee, her skin paling.

  “You,” Roach barked. “Have there been any sign of Quatro around here?” He said it as though she wasn’t looking at them like they were a host of demons descending on her village for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc and bringing torment.

  Her voice shook as she answered: “N-no, sir. No Quatro here.”

  Roach grunted, marching past her, causing the pile of wood she’d stacked to tremble with each step. With the third step, it toppled over.

  Crouching near the woman, Ash restacked the wood, though she wasn’t sure the new pile resembled the old one very much. The logs felt likes twigs beneath her metal fingers, and she was having trouble with the delicate motions the operation required.

  She stood up again, clearing her throat. “Uh—don’t mind Dynamo, ma’am. Diplomacy never was his strong suit. I’m Steam.” She was about to extend her hand before thinking better of it, fearful that she’d crush the woman’s tiny digits in her grasp.

  “Bethany,” the woman said, mouth agape.

  Ash exchanged looks with Beth, who stood nearby. Beth’s MIMAS tilted its head sideways.

  “Bethany,” Ash said, smiling inside her mech. “What a nice name.”

  They followed Roach through to the center of the village, where he was in the midst of questioning another villager.

  The man quaked where he stood, and the rest of the village green was conspicuously empty of other villagers.

  I wonder why, Ash thought sarcastically as she heard a door slam shut nearby.

  Inserting herself between the alien mech and the man as carefully as she could, Ash craned her neck to stare up at the behemoth Roach had become.

  “Uh, sir? Hi. What have you discovered?”

  “I was just in the middle of asking this guy about the Quatro.” Roach moved his hand, as though to nudge Ash out of the way.

  “Uh, yes,” she said, catching his hand by the wrist. “But—it doesn’t look like the Quatro have been here, does it? I’m not sure further questioning is necessary.”

  “Hmm,”
Roach said. “I guess not. We should search the surrounding terrain.”

  “Good! Good idea. Let’s let these people get back to their daily tasks.”

  Nodding curtly, Roach turned to march off the village green.

  The man’s gaze switched rapidly back and forth from Roach to Ash to Roach again. Behind him, a Gatherer trundled toward a collection facility.

  “Have a nice day, sir,” she said. “Best wishes.” She snapped off a jaunty little salute and followed the chief.

  God. That was awful. Looks like I’m getting pretty terrible at diplomacy myself.

  A scream rose up behind her, and she turned, extending her bayonets instinctively.

  The Gatherer had abandoned its course toward the collection facility to tackle the man. It reared above him, blades snaking out from its ever-shifting surface.

  Ash didn’t think—she just acted. Her right hand segmented, retracting to rest against her wrist, and she spun up that rotary autocannon. Armor-piercing rounds caught the Gatherer in the side, causing it to disintegrate instantly.

  Shaking even worse than before, the man managed to regain his feet.

  “Are you hurt, sir?” Ash called.

  “N-no…” he said, staring down at himself. “I don’t think…”

  She turned back to Roach, who’d stopped just beyond the village green, standing perfectly immobile in that somewhat creepy way he had.

  Neither of them said anything.

  Slowly, Ash turned to see how the other MIMAS pilots were reacting.

  They were also standing stock-still, and though Ash couldn’t see their expressions, she’d become accustomed enough to their body language while inside the mechs that she could tell they felt as shocked as she did.

  Marco was the first to speak:

  “The ramifications of this…they really, really don’t look good.”

  You said a mouthful.

  Chapter 24

  Crescendo

  Something strange happened when Jake beheld the ruins of his childhood home.

  As he was beginning to become accustomed to, the alien mech dream represented his anguish in a number of novel ways. In addition to the rising minor note played by a long-neglected violin, it also treated him to the sensation of bugs crawling all over his skin, coating him completely. Writhing there, as though they were a second suit that separated his physical body from the mech.

  That caused his anguish to spike even more, which in turn caused the piercing violin note to crescendo more sharply, and it granted the insects tiny pincers, which they used to dig up small scoops of his skin, in a journey toward his organs that would be as slow as it was painful.

  To top it all off, the dream granted him the sensation of breathing great lungfuls of tear gas.

  The feedback loop continued for some time, resisting his every effort to arrest its escalation.

  Finally, he lost control entirely. He charged across the gently curving terrain in great leaps and bounds, straight toward his wrecked childhood home.

  His mounting rage and torment obliterated all thought, all consciousness, even though he remained aware of everything he was doing.

  The main difference was that he was no longer the one piloting the mech. Nor was the mech piloting itself—instead, his raging emotions alone steered his actions. In part, he was fleeing those emotions, and in larger part, he was channeling them.

  The Ravagers began to notice his charge, and as they did they scampered across the fields toward him. They, too, appeared to enjoy gravity inside the comet.

  Some of the robots directly overhead used their powerful legs to try leaping past the artificial sun, in an attempt to skip the terrain they’d otherwise have to cross to reach Jake. The first few that tried it were jerked downward again by gravity.

  Then, one of them made it—it jumped high enough to reach the tip of the spire that held the artificial sun aloft, so that gravity reversed its pull, sending the Ravager hurtling toward Jake.

  His right arm became a massive pillar, which he swung in a broad arc, connecting with the robot as it fell and pulverizing it into fine dust.

  The insects had acquired stingers in addition to their pincers, and they put them to use immediately, driving them into Jake’s flesh at random intervals. The stingers seemed to produce a small quantity of venom—at least, if the subcutaneous fire Jake experienced was any indication.

  Casting his gaze wildly around him, Jake saw that dozens more Ravagers raced across the comet toward him, along with several more who leapt against the gravity, attempting the same trick his first attacker had managed.

  Within seconds, dozens of Ravagers became hundreds.

  Where are they all coming from?

  Had they been hiding inside the dying woods? Were they burrowed inside the thirty meters of soil that separated the comet’s living space and its icy exterior, providing nutrients for crops and protecting against space radiation?

  It was a mystery he lacked the time to solve. The first wave of Ravagers hit him, and he became a windmill of death, four blades protruding from him to slice through robot after robot as he spun around and around. Some of them disintegrated as the first one had, and others merely exploded to send machine parts hurtling across the land, each arm or leg or elbow or servomotor flying like a baseball hit by a home-run slugger.

  More Ravagers hit him from above, then, and Jake retracted the blades so that he could bring his hands into play once again, though enlarged slightly, making it all the easier to crush the robots the moment he caught them.

  If he only crushed them a little, he could flick them at other oncoming robots, channeling all of his rancor into the throw and causing both robots involved to rupture in a fantastic blizzard of metal fragments.

  Eventually, he killed enough Ravagers that they came to respect him, despite their kamikaze tendencies. They waited for their fellows to arrive, now, bunching together, no doubt in the hopes of overwhelming Jake in a single unified flood.

  He would not have it. Instead, he ordered his arms to become cannons that were disproportionate with his body. In truth, they were ridiculously large, but it was also what his disproportionate emotions called for just then.

  He began to blast the Ravagers, each shot representing incredible overkill. Every thick bolt of energy took out not only the target but several around it, leaving wide craters in the ground.

  The thought occurred to Jake that he risked blowing holes in the comet itself, creating more openings to the void beyond. If he did that, he would make it harder for any survivors to turn the comet back into something that resembled their home.

  There are no survivors, something whispered into his ear, and this time he was certain it wasn’t his own thought, even though he acknowledged the truth of what it said. There’s only you and the death you deal. You’ll die too, soon enough, but your death will be worthy.

  Jake didn’t die—not then, anyway. He couldn’t have said how long it took, but he managed to clear all of the Ravagers, and when the task was done he collapsed to the ground, the alien mech curling into a tight ball, clutching itself as the insects and the heat and the minor note overcame everything.

  After an eternity, the pain subsided, and the insects receded into whatever dimension they’d come from.

  Wearily, Jake dragged himself to his feet to trudge across the comet, across fields and through withering woods, until he arrived at the hidden emergency shelter that he knew was located near the Council chambers.

  He used his implant to submit his identity as a native of this comet to the computer. It recognized him, and the wide, horizontal entrance slid open to admit him into the airlock, the grassy field that covered it splitting in two.

  Gently, he lowered his mech into the chamber below. He had to crouch to allow the hatch to close again, and when it did, the chamber pressurized, filling with oxygen.

  “Let me out,” he ordered the mech.

  Nothing happened.

  “Let me out!”

>   It heeded him, this time, though he wasn’t sure what had been different about his second request. A ramp lowered from the front of the mech, just as it had before, and Jake crawled out.

  He used his implant to order the inner airlock door to lower—this one was vertical, and it led into the emergency shelter that served as the last resort for residents.

  When the hatch sank low enough, it revealed the face of Brianne Price, her lower lip trembling.

  “Jake,” she mouthed, though he couldn’t hear her voice over the clank of the hatch.

  At last, it was open, and he ran to her.

  Chapter 25

  Definitely Fearless

  Instead of searching the terrain surrounding the village, Roach decided they would remain to defend it instead.

  Well, actually, Ash and the others had lobbied him to stay here, and at last he relented.

  “It’s possible the Gatherer attack was a freak malfunction,” Ash had said. “And it may never happen again. But unlike the Amblers, they’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Inside his mech, Marco had nodded. “Plus, this was where we thought the Quatro were going to attack, and they still might. There haven’t been any reports of them striking anywhere else. So let them come here.”

  “We’re ready for them, all right,” Henrietta said, raising her metal fists a little before dropping them by her sides once more.

  “Maybe we should contact Bronson,” Ash said. “About the Gatherers.”

  “Go ahead,” Roach said. “I’m done with that asshole.” With that, he walked away, headed for the perimeter of the village.

  “Uh…” Henrietta said, watching him go. “I assume he’s not going to leave on us?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ash said, also staring at the alien mech’s back. “I think he’s back with Oneiri for good.”

  “Our fearless leader once more,” Henrietta added.

  “He’s definitely fearless,” Richaud said, before sauntering away himself, in the opposite direction.