Mech

by Isaac Hooke

  “Hundreds of light years?” Rade asked. “And already he possesses the knowledge?”

  “Yes,” Cynthia said. “His nodes are linked inter-dimensionally, as mentioned, allowing for near realtime communication. Think of this entire region of space as one big brain, and you’re looking at a part of that brain when you gaze at the bulging mass of flesh behind me.”

  “And here I thought the only bulging mass of flesh in this room was between my legs…” Bender said.

  “So, if your Anarchist has already captured Nemesis tech on other worlds, why doesn’t he send a starship to this colony to pick us up?” Lui asked.

  “He hasn’t captured very much of their tech, yet,” Cynthia said. “This is a relatively new enemy, for him. So, he is only familiar with their technology to a degree.”

  “Wait just a second,” Rade said. “Eayan here specifically claimed the Anarchist knew how to fly Nemesis starships. But now you just admitted the entity is only familiar with their tech to a degree. So, it’s never actually captured a Nemesis starship before, let alone flown one, correct?”

  “No, he hasn’t,” Cynthia admitted.

  “So, there’s no guarantee the Anarchist will be able to fly one…” Rade said.

  “No,” she said. “But he is a fast learner. I’m sure once we are aboard, he will quickly learn the necessary skills.”

  “Cynthia is correct,” Eayan added. “The Anarchist is confident that the necessary skills will be gleaned from whatever other tech lies aboard. Once one piece of technology is captured, the rest will fall like dominos.”

  “A lie!” Bender exclaimed over the private channel. “Isn’t that a sign of betrayal? You said we’d light them up at the first sign of betrayal, Chief. Permission to light them up?” The eagerness in his voice was hard to miss.

  “Not yet,” Rade told his friend. “Even if we just caught a lie, this Anarchist is still the only hope we have of getting off this world. For the moment.”

  “So, this Nemesis base you mentioned…” Tahoe told Cynthia. “Is it nearby? If so, that should be our first destination.”

  “It will have moved, by now,” Cynthia said. “But we’ll find another. The Nemesis aren’t difficult to find, once you know the signs.”

  “Alien alliances,” Bender muttered over the private comm. “I hate making pacts with aliens. They always break them.”

  “Not sure we have much choice here, bro,” Fret said. “I agree that this Anarchist will probably turn on us at some point, but we’re just going to have to watch our backs, and milk as much as we can out of our little arrangement.”

  “Shit man, honestly, we’re probably better off milking our own titties,” Bender said.

  “Uh, we’re guys,” Manic said. “We don’t lactate.”

  “My point exactly,” Bender said. “We’re better off on our own. We can just stay back, follow these suckers, let them lead us to a starship, and then hitch a ride. All from the shadows. Well, assuming the bastard can actually figure out how to fly the starship.”

  “It’s not like we’re dealing with Tech Class I anymore here,” Fret said. “We can’t just sneak up on an advanced alien race. They’ll detect our approach from klicks away, and they’ll know our position aboard at all times.”

  “Yeah well, we have ways of handling that,” Bender said. He caressed one of his mech’s shoulder-mounted missile launchers.

  “No,” Rade said. “I’ve already made up my mind. I agreed to help them, and we will. If they turn on us, we’ll deal with the betrayal when it comes. We’ll make them regret ever going back on their word.”

  “Wooyah,” Skullcracker said.

  Rade switched to his external speakers. “So, when will you have this consciousness transference ready?”

  “Forty-five minutes or so,” Cynthia said. “As soon as you let me get back to work…”

  “All right, we’ll watch the cavern until then,” Rade said. “Kicker, Pyro, guard the main entrance. The rest of you, secure the cave perimeter. Cyclone, assign positions.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Cynthia said. “The Anarchist is already watching all approaches. And there are no other entrances—or exits—to this cave.”

  “Even so, I’m sure you can understand if I don’t entirely trust you and your alien friend,” Rade said. “No hard feelings.” He glanced at Tahoe. “Set up the perimeter.”

  Tahoe’s avatar nodded, and the LPO assigned positions to the different members of the team; the mechs promptly spread out through the foliage, trampling fresh paths. Kicker and Pyro headed back the way they had come, toward the main entrance, as Rade ordered.

  He could almost feel the Anarchist cringing with each step those mechs took. It was a little rude to go and step on your host like that—assuming these plants were indeed part of the Anarchist, as claimed—but he wanted to be sure the alien wasn’t hiding anything in that undergrowth.

  Cynthia shrugged inside her environmental suit. “The Anarchist will prove himself to you. Just as he proved himself to me.” She retreated into the undergrowth behind the alien entity, and soon was gone. Her icon remained visible on his overhead map, thanks to Skullcracker, who Tahoe had assigned to shadow her.

  “I don’t trust her,” Tahoe said over a private line.

  “None of us do,” Rade agreed.

  “If we hadn’t ignored that comm signal emanating from the creature, you think it would have hacked our mechs?” Tahoe asked.

  “I have no doubt it would have,” Rade replied. “Wouldn’t you, if you had the power? It’s just more units for it to use for its own self-preservation.”

  “If the entity is so powerful,” Tahoe said, “it kind of makes you wonder why it succumbed to the Draactal.”

  “Well, it does make some sense, given that the Draactal are organic, a species stuck in the Tech Class I phase,” Rade said. “Machine hacking abilities would be of no benefit to the Anarchist in this situation. And it obviously can’t build machines on its own, given its sedentary nature. Maybe other nodes have conquered higher tech class races on different planets, but their tech levels were probably still too low to attain interstellar travel, otherwise ships would have arrived long ago. As the Draactal spread like a disease, the Anarchist was probably powerless to stop it, and slowly died off.”

  “One disease, replacing another,” Tahoe said. “Can you imagine if the Anarchist ever got a foothold on Earth? If he can hack our machines, the world would be his in a short time. His plant-life would replace all native species on our world, probably killing off our animals in the process—it’s doubtful the alien plants are biocompatible. And have you ever wondered why the atmospheres of the colonies in this part of space are so similar? I’m guessing the gaseous emissions from the Anarchist’s plants played a big role. The entity would have only thrived on worlds like these, worlds with the potential for terraforming, which is why the colonists chose them in the first place.”

  “That could certainly be the case,” Rade said.

  “Got what looks like a mechanic shop of some kind here,” Skullcracker reported over the comm.

  Rade tapped into Skullcracker’s feed, and saw Cynthia working in a secluded area near the cavern wall. Temporary metal walls kept the plants at bay. It was obvious she had spent a lot of time building up her work area. There were tables and shelves and cabinets, covered in different machine parts—among them, he recognized mech components, no doubt taken from some of the Hoplites and Titans, or the wreckages of other units. Two cylindrical robots assisted her, each equipped with several mechanical arms of different types. There were pincer arms, telescoping limbs, spiraling tubes tipped with air nozzles, and a laser cutter attached to the body by a bellows-like bag.

  She had cleared off a main work table, and was hunched over a glowing fragment of some exotic material. It looked a little like agate, in that it was whitish, with bands of different colors running along its length. He couldn’t tell what source object she’d taken the material from, though
it was alien, if she was to be believed.

  There were wires running from it to a cylindrical object that could have been an AI core, judging from the optical fibers exposed on its far side. She was definitely rigging up something.

  “What if she’s making a bomb?” Fret asked over the comm. “And plans to blow the living crap out of us?”

  “Considering you already shit your pants while running away from the colony, you’re good on that account, bro,” Bender replied.

  “If she tries anything, or shows hostile intent, I’m going to authorize lethal force,” Rade said. “Same goes with the Anarchist. Just a heads up.”

  “Hell yeah!” Bender said. “I call dibs on blowing up that alien ball sac!”

  “You can call dibs all you want,” Manic said. “But if the alien betrays us, and it’s in my line of sight, it’s going down.”

  “Wait,” Kicker said. “Didn’t the Anarchist already show hostile intent? By transmitting a signal in an attempt to take over our mechs?”

  “Very true,” Rade replied. “Some of you might say we have no proof of that, since the attempt didn’t succeed, but I’d respond by telling you: look at what happened to Eayan and the other mechs. But that said, we still need the Anarchist to help us get off this world. The United Systems will send reinforcements eventually, when it realizes what happened here. But we’ll be out of oxygen long before then. We have to rely upon ourselves to get out of this, and whatever allies we can make along the way. Even if we can’t entirely trust these allies.”

  “I still get to blow up the alien!” Bender said.

  Rade smiled, and shook his head. He addressed his mech’s AI: “Taya, keep an eye on things. I’m going to take some shut eye.”

  “With pleasure,” Taya said, her voice assuming a seductive tone. “Sweet dreams.”

  “You’ve been far too flirty lately,” Rade said. “Has your intimacy setting been creeping up or something?”

  “The emotive controls of my AI core have been malfunctioning lately,” Taya admitted. “The settings have been drifting from their defaults.”

  “Then set them back to zero,” Rade said. “And if they ever rise again, you are to zero them without further intervention on my part. Is that understood?”

  “Okay.” He could almost hear the pout.

  He closed his eyes. Ordinarily, he would have slept instantly. He was used to catching whatever Z’s he could in the field. But he was too distracted. Thinking of the coming flight from this cavern and the battles to come. Not to mention the potential betrayal by the Anarchist and its devotees. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they would meet no resistance when they left this cave. Maybe the Anarchist wouldn’t betray them. Somehow, he doubted that, on all accounts.

  He needed a way to secure the alien’s loyalty. Either that, or to prove his team was still valuable to the creature, once they reached the starship. And once they were aboard, and he’d have to convince the alien of the benefits of bringing them back to United Systems territory, or forcibly take control of the vessel. All the while looking out for a backstab attempt.

  Yes, there were so many things running through his mind, his thoughts roiling with activity. Of course, he couldn’t sleep.

  With a sigh, he opened his eyes, and took control back from Taya.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” the mech’s AI asked.

  “Uh huh,” he replied.

  “Too much on your mind?” Taya pressed.

  “You could say that,” Rade said. “Looks like I’ll have to wait out the next forty minutes until we leave.”

  5

  Rade idly activated his system status screen, and examined the different offensive and defensive assemblies of his mech, wanting to confirm that everything was in working order.

  The Brigand class of mech stood about twice as tall as an ordinary human being, with the width to match. Its jumpjets were on par with the Hoplite class in terms of strength and range, allowing the unit to jet up buildings and over obstacles. It was equipped with Trench Coat anti-missile countermeasures, and a retractable laser/ballistic shield in the left arm. Swivel mounts in each hand allowed him to pick between different weapon classes, though in the case of the left arm, the shield couldn’t be active at the same time as the weapons. In the right arm, he could swap between a cobra—a medium range, infrared laser—and a zodiac—a short range electrolaser that used lasers to induce a plasma channel, essentially launching a lightning bolt. This particular model of cobra could fire once every half second, while the zodiac required thirty seconds to recharge. If used too often, both weapons could overheat, requiring a mandatory rest period before recovery.

  In his left arm, the first mount held an incendiary launcher, which used the fuel from his jumpjets as the combustive, combining it with an oxidant before igniting the fuel. The second mount held a sonic weapon, known as the holler, which used sound waves to launch debilitating attacks against the Draactal. The dispersion was cylindrical, and relatively short ranged, but it lasted five seconds, allowing him to temporarily stun any Draactals that might be swarming his hull, and forcing them back as he swept the weapon back and forth. It did require an entire minute to recharge, however, regardless of whether it was fired the full five seconds, or for only one second.

  Launchers on each shoulder were capable of firing four serpent S-5 mini missiles each. He still had his complete inventory of missiles, since the attack on the forward operating base was the first time he had seen combat since touching down.

  The metallic hull of his mech utilized camouflage tech that allowed him to blend in with his surroundings with some degree of effectiveness. It was best suited to wilderness type environments, though it also worked moderately well on barren plains as long as enemies were far away and didn’t have other means of detection. It was useless against creatures that could see on the infrared band, like the Draactal. The hull did have an experimental infrared camouflage system that partially masked the thermal signature of the mech, however, the latter didn’t work all that well in practice: it was great when he had to stand still for long lengths of time, but while on the move, or when firing, the heat generated by the mech was too great to mask.

  Absent was a hull-electrification ability of any kind, as the Lighter feature found on the Titan class of mechs. Rade thought that would have been a useful capability to employ against the Draactal, but he wasn’t responsible for the mechs assigned to his team. His platoon used whatever the Brass had on hand, and deemed fit for deployment.

  Satisfied that everything was in working order, Rade left Tahoe next to the Anarchist, and followed a path one of his Brigands had trampled through the foliage.

  He reached Rex, who stood next to a wall of the cavern in one of the positions Tahoe had assigned.

  “All clear, here, Chief,” Rex said.

  “Have you searched this wall for signs of hidden entrances?” Rade asked.

  “I have,” Rex said. “All along the designated perimeter. Did you check the updated map?”

  Tahoe would have done so already and informed him if anything was amiss, but Rade pulled it up anyway. The entire cavern had been mapped out. The mechs had trampled through the undergrowth, using LIDAR to map out every square meter. There was nothing hidden in the trees… no Draactals lurking behind any bushes, no defense platforms waiting to open fire. The only incongruous space was Cynthia’s workstation. Well, and the various reclaimers and filters she had set up throughout the cave to gather oxygen and water.

  He left Rex, and went to Skullcracker next. He gazed past his mech, but Cynthia had her back to him and didn’t look up.

  He set up a private connection with the heavy gunner. “So, I checked the logs, and saw you got a message before we deployed. I never really had a chance to ask you about it… in fact, I’ve been avoiding it. I don’t want to pry. Don’t want to intrude upon the space we all leave between our private lives and this one. But I figured, now was as good a time as any to do this. So, I’ll ask: how are things back
home?”

  Skullcracker didn’t answer. His Brigand merely stared at him, that emotionless, featureless mech face rather unnerving.

  “I guess I hoped you’d tell me, if you needed my help,” Rade said. “I’m here for you, you know that, right? I’ll always be here for you. You’re my brother, and you always will be, no matter what happens. We’ve been through hell together, and returned. We’re in hell now as far as I’m concerned, but we’ll survive this, somehow. And I want you to know, if you need me, I’m here.”

  A long moment passed. Rade was about to turn to go, but then Skullcracker’s avatar appeared in the lower right of his HUD. Rade couldn’t quite read the man’s expression behind all that ink. He thought that was part of the reason Skullcracker had gotten his face tattooed like that in the first place. So that he could hide his emotions from the world not just in virtual reality, but in the real one.

  “You asked how things were back home?” Skullcracker spat. “She’s gone. That’s how things are. She’s gone.”

  Rade didn’t know what to say to that. He felt physically stricken by those words. He wanted to hug his friend, but couldn’t, not while encased in a ton of metal.

  Skullcracker remained silent for several moments, then continued. “I mean, I’ve lost brothers in the past, on this very platoon, but nothing like this. Losing Ghost, that almost broke me. But this, nothing compares to it. I am broken. I realize that now. I am destroyed. I’ve known her my entire life. My heart is… just torn apart. And my soul. I lost the most important person in the universe to me. No one will ever know how precious she was. No one will remember her. Only me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on. Picking up the pieces of my broken life. Everyone always thinks I’m such a strong man, that I’m so dominant, so alpha, but I’m none of those things. It’s all a facade, to hide how weak I really am. Just like the tattoo I wear over my face is a facade. Something I wear to hide from the world.”