“Honestly,” Ciangi panted, “I would normally ask for a bit of a break, but I don’t think we have time for one.”
“Correct. This way.”
So without any other complaints, we trudged along after her, all of our arms sore and our backs not faring much better. The only one who didn’t seem utterly exhausted was Eske, who was still turning her head this way and that in wild-eyed wonder.
Huh. When had I lost that?
I remember once being chronically amazed by everything that happened around me. From Mimic, to running from giant monsters, to seeing Mimic’s people on their home planet for the first time. But now, I mostly took everything in stride.
It was almost…refreshing, to see her so enraptured by everything surrounding us. It reminded me of how incredibly lucky I was. If I hadn’t been in the right place, at the right time, I would still be listening to Giomatti’s abuse while I tried to keep that rickety old mining ship in top condition.
I broke from my musings when I began to recognize where we were. It had changed slightly, with more vibrant vegetation along the path, and signs of actual animal life, but I would never forget the path. Sure enough, I looked up and saw none other than the dilapidated, crashed ship sticking out of the small mountain.
“Wow,” Eske breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s exactly like you said it was.”
“Not really,” Gonzales said, rubbing her chin as she looked it over. “You’ve been scrapping things from it, haven’t you?”
Mimic nodded. “Not to mention the food stores that we were able to recover from its fuel synthesis machine. Enough to last us another couple of years, should we live that long.”
“And what about after that?”
“After that, provided that we no longer have to worry about planetary scale war, we will have to mine for what we need. Possible, just not when we need to defend our existence from an extra-dimensional onslaught.”
“Boy, you’ve really been working on those complex sentences, haven’t you?” Ciangi remarked lightly.
“Yes, I have. Thank you for noticing.” With that, she strode forward, leading us up towards the ship.
It was a bizarre exercise in nostalgia as we soon reached the entrance of the tunnel, and then continued down into the belly of the ship. Just like Mimic had said, the area where the mini-mimics had once dumped all of their harvested minerals was completely disassembled, leaving only an empty room that had once been so terrifying.
From there, we went down another corridor that we hadn’t traversed before, until we came out in a massive, technology-laden room that I guessed might have once been this ship’s version of an engine room.
But it wasn’t an engine in the center. No, not at all.
Instead, it was a mass of wires, coils, mental chunks, and goodness knows what else. I could almost feel the polarity changing around it, and the hum in the air made my teeth buzz slightly.
“Is…is this a shield generator?” Bahn asked, walking forward like he had just seen the most beautiful person in existence. “Tell me that you didn’t jimmy rig a shield for this entire planet.”
“I do not know who Jimmy is, but he did not have anything to do with our repairs,” Mimic said, joining the excited engineer. “Of course, the ship already had its own shielding system in place for radiation, fights, and what have you. We just made some…additions based on the manuals you left me to be able to expand this to most of the planet.”
“But, the amount of power necessary to do that—”
“Is extraordinary, yes. Thankfully, since this ship doesn’t need to fly, or even maintain a life support system, we were able to reroute all power of the core to operating this. We estimate we’ll get maybe two, three days of shielding before the system burns out. Naturally, we are working to increase that number, but progress is slow as we can’t risk ruining what we’ve already worked so hard to create.”
“I’ve found it,” Bahn said with a deliberate nod.
“Found what?”
“The thing I’m going to do to help you. I don’t know much about battle, or fighting, or anything like that really. But I know machines, and how to improve them.” He pulled his hair from his ponytail, then rearranged it into a tight bun atop his head. “Have Ciangi run and get my toolkit from our room. I’m going to really get to know this thing.”
“Well, alright,” I said, chuckling slightly. “Try to remember to come back to eat sometime.”
“What? Oh, yes. Of course.” He was already beginning to circle the machine, his mind racing off a million miles away.
“So, should they try to fight this fight from space alone, they will not be able to,” Mimic said, turning back to us and leading the remaining members of our party out. Although I am not opposed to fighting the first part of this war in space. I have several of my brethren who I believe will be capable of flying any of the ships that you have brought.”
We walked down the mountain, and I found my worry coming back to me. “About that…”
Mimic stiffened as she strode ahead of me. “I may not be human, but I know that I do not like that tone.”
“Yeah, well, the ship wasn’t exactly fully loaded when we took it. Unfortunately, I think there are only about six or so single-man fighters on there, enough for us, but not for the other mimics that you trust.”
“That is…unfortunate.”
“It’s too bad that there aren’t any ships around here,” Eske remarked idly. “You guys seem to have a knack for hoisting them, so I’m sure you could just roll in and out with what you need.”
Her words stirred something within me, a faint sort of memory from the colony, specifically from after the explosion.
“Wait,” I said, stopping in my tracks. “I…I think I have an idea.”
“I hope it’s a good one,” Gonzales said, coming up beside me and throwing her arm over my shoulders. “Because I’m not feeling so great about our situation.”
“There’s a colony not too far from here. It’s a day and a half at max speed, maybe two. It’s been mostly abandoned for the better part of a decade, but still has a science team there to study the soil.”
“Okay,” Gonzales humored me slowly. “And how is that relevant to this situation?”
“Easy. We go to their colony, take over the communication array, and then send an SOS that we’re under attack from a single ship. From there, we’ll steal the ships that respond to the call, and bring them back here just in time for the coming battle.”
“Oh, is that all?” Ciangi said with only a slight amount of sarcasm in her tone. “Just take over a colony and steal a bunch of ships? Why not?”
“Actually, I think that would work,” Mimic said, her expression brightening. “However, I do not think we can do it with just the six of us. And that’s if we pull Bahn away from his work on our shielding—which is something that I am loathe to do at this point.”
“Alright then,” I said, determination rushing through me like it hadn’t in so long. “Looks like we’re going to need to make a team of mimics to train specifically for this mission. Consider them your special ops of sorts.”
“Ho boy,” Gonzales breathed, removing her arm from me to stride forward. “Just one more thing we gotta do before this big fight goes down. You sure we can properly teach a group of essentially teenagers how to raid a colony?”
“Why not?” I asked with a shrug. “No one taught us how to steal our first ship.”
Ciangi laughed at that, picking up the pace to move forward once again. “Good point. Let’s hope we can get lightning to strike twice then.”
7
Teaching New Dogs New Tricks
“Watch out!”
I ducked to the side automatically, narrowly missing a bed-sized mass of obsidian spikes as it sailed past where I had just been standing. The form slammed into the ground, sending dirt flying everywhere, and I shielded my eyes from the onslaught.
Once the noise died down, I looked to th
e now considerably smaller body on the ground. “You okay?” I asked.
“Sorry!” a strange voice called from across the yard. I followed the sound to see a mimic that had taken an incredibly jacked form that looked like it belonged to a super soldier rather than a young alien. “Still getting used to these joints.”
“It’s alright, Astaroth,” Mimic said, coming up behind him. “That was very good. Now you just need to focus on aim, and control.”
“Astaroth?” I asked. “Like the demon?”
Mimic shrugged, no doubt a gesture she had learned from Gonzales. “He liked one of the books you left behind on demonology, so the name stuck.”
“Huh,” I said. “Interesting.”
“Thanks,” the mimic said, sending me a grin that was lacking quite a few teeth. Right, I imagined they didn’t have many accurate representations of the interior of a human mouth.
“Actually,” Eske said, coming up alongside the two of them. “You’re working against your body and making it harder for yourself. Here, lemme show you.”
Without any warning, she gripped the man around his arm, stepped in front of him, and bent forward, forcing him over her back in a single smooth motion.
He collided with the ground, unable to stop himself, and I let out a whistle.
“How did you know to do that?” I asked, leaving the mimic still laying on the ground, wheezing, to join them.
“Riiight, I never mentioned that. I got through college on a fighting scholarship. I was supposed to make it professionally, but I took a really bad blow to the head and damaged my optic nerve. I went through a lot of therapy and surgeries to keep my vision, but it’s still not good enough to pass requirements to get into the league.”
Eske adjusted her goggles as she explained, and it clicked as to why she always wore them. I had never thought that they might be for vision correction. I remember reading once about how ancient society often had to rely on spectacles for improving their vision if their eyesight wasn’t 20/20, but those had been phased out long ago. I had assumed that they were for vanity purposes, and I was very happy that I had never said anything about it.
“But yeah, if you guys want a little tutelage in the ways of martial arts, I’m more than happy to lend a hand, or a couple.” Ekse stood straight and you could see the pride in her eyes.
“Yeah, that would be fantastic!” What a stroke of luck. I couldn’t believe that Eske had just fallen into our laps. It was almost like fate had a vested interest in our success, and it filled me with a lot more confidence than I had had just earlier that day.
“Alright, Astaroth, you go with Eske then. And, Mimic, grab anyone else who you think would be more towards the physical side of things.”
“They don’t just have to be brutes like ol’ Ashy here. Small folk who are fast or wiry are prime candidates too.”
“Good to know,” Mimic said with a nod. “I will do so. And I take it you will continue to help with Gonzales’s weapon training?”
“If by helping, you mean learning alongside the mimics, then yes. You are correct.”
“Right, well, you should get back to learning then,” she said with a wink. Not exactly the best time for one, but I had to give her credit for trying. For not being around any humans for a year, she certainly had progressed a long way.
I gave her a cheesy little salute and ran back to Gonzales, who of course was overseeing the shooting range. There were several mimics in mostly human form, give or take a digit or two, all armed with blasters and firing at the targets we had set up.
Thankfully, the shooting range was pointed towards a treeless quarry, because they were terrible. And not even holding-a-gun-for-the-first-time terrible, but rather possessing-eyes-for-the-first-time terrible.
“Come on, Higgens,” Gonzales said, tossing me a weapon. “Time to throw your hat into the ring again.”
I dropped the gun at first, then juggled it a couple times before it finally fell into the grass and I had to pick it up carefully. It felt oddly heavy in my hands. It had really been forever since I last held one, and I couldn’t recall even firing it when I did have one.
“Step on up and show your game.”
“You know, being a weapons engineer doesn’t necessarily mean you are equipped to teach others how to handle a firefight.”
Gonzales laughed. “True, normally, but I am not normal. I like to play with the same guns I tend to and upgrade. So trust me, I won’t let you shoot your own head off. Not unless you piss me off, of course.”
“I’ll try my hardest then.”
Heart thumping, I stepped up to the empty station and lifted the gun. I could feel it whirring to life in my hand, the button to fire just below my fingers.
“Now, what you need to do is aim, breathe in, then exhale. At the end of your exhale, before you draw in air again, adjust your aim a little more, and then fire.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I sighed.
“It is, at least when you’re not pointing it at a living, breathing human being. This is just a target. You can’t hurt it. You can’t kill it. So, all you have to worry about is missing.”
I paused. “But if I do well at this, then I’ll have to eventually fire on a living, breathing being, right?”
“It’s easier if you don’t think about that yet. It’ll just complicate things when you’re too far from that level.”
“But I’ll have to think about it when they get here, no matter what level I’m at.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Geez, Higgens. I love ya, but you always overthink everything.”
“What can I say? It’s kept me alive so far.”
“True enough, but maybe it’s time to evolve.”
She stepped over to me and gently gripped my arm, bringing it up. “Here, grip it with both hands. There ya go.”
Then she moved behind me and I found myself in a position I never thought I would be. I had seen it a dozen times over in various sims and flicks, but usually it was the young, beautiful ingenue who was the one being taught while the big, strong man put his arms around her to teach her how to shoot an ancient game of pool, or old-fashioned cooking.
“Alright, breathe in. Aim.” Somehow, I managed to get over my shock enough to follow her directions, and I did as she said. “Breathe out. Adjust your aim. Now shoot.”
I squeezed the button at the apex of the handle, and it discharged a bolt of energy that shot out almost too fast for me to see. Within the blink of an eye, it was slamming into the edge of the target.
“Not bad. Just a foot or so downward and you would have had a bulls eye.”
“Yeah, well, something tells me that foot won’t be easy to get rid of.”
“Well, practice makes perfect.” She stepped out from behind me, and gave me a curious look. “Why are you bright red?”
“No reason,” I said quickly.
“Whatever. Just try again.”
I did, focusing as hard as I could. It was difficult to slow my heart and quiet my thoughts, but I felt like I managed. But when I fired again, I missed the target entirely.
“Keep trying,” Gonzales said, clapping me on the back. “The better you get at this, the better you get at aiming the firing rig on the fighters.”
“Really?”
“No, not really. But they have all sorts of aim assist, so that should help.”
“I hope so.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not like they’ll be the first ships you’ll fly.”
“Actually, it kinda will be.”
Her mouth flew open. “What?! I thought basic training for any sort of space-farer involves mandatory escape pod and single flying prep.”
“Yeah, it turns out that our company cut a few corners. Surprising, right?”
“Oh, man. Yeah. I’m glad you told me this now. Just more for us to practice, right?”
“Right.”
She caught my somewhat defeated tone and gave me an easygoing sort of nudge. She sure was being very
touchy-feely lately. I wondered if that was because we were growing closer, or because of everything she had gone through on Earth. Either way, I wasn’t totally opposed to it.
“Now you keep shooting. I’ve got to handle these little ones.”
“You do that.”
I watched her go, my mind spinning in a dozen different directions. Each time we seemed to take a step forward, eight other things were tacked on to our to-do list. And as positive as we all were, I was acutely aware that time was running out.
It was the countdown to war, and I could only hope that we came out alright on the other side.
It turned out that Mimic wasn’t the only mimic that could learn at an exceptional speed. Perhaps it was just a perk of their species, being born to imitate others, but I certainly wasn’t complaining.
It seemed being around us also allowed the younger mimics to take on our forms more accurately, and after a couple days, everyone had the right number of eyes, limbs, and fingers. Surprisingly, none of them looked like us, however. I didn’t know if Mimic had taught them that it might be disrespectful to take on our faces without our permission, but it was certainly interesting all the different body types and features they took on.
Astaroth kept his hulking form, but his eyes eventually changed to being slightly almond-shaped, and his skin darkened to a shade similar to Gonzales’s. Another mimic, named Pyjik, took on a female body with short, black hair and skin so pale that she beat out even Ciangi for porcelain coloring. She was slender, and agile, spending most of her time learning hand-to-hand with Eske.
Then there was Meridyna. She also took on a feminine form, but one that was covered in layers of both fat and muscle. She looked like one of those women who could fill out any dress with no problem, but also crush your head between her thighs. Unlike the others, she still had a third eye that she never lost. Considering how well she imitated the rest of a person’s body, I guessed that she kept it on purpose and chose not to comment on it.
Then there was the last of the second-in-command group, Urdet. Their form was neither masculine, nor feminine, just somewhere in between. They kept their head bald, but their eyes were a ridiculously bright blue with thick lashes. Unlike the rest, they spent most of their time by Mimic’s side, learning, planning, and plotting. I got the feeling that they were almost like an advisor to her. Someone who she could bounce ideas off of and brainstorm with. Good. She needed someone like that.
Mimic Raises an Army Page 4