by Isaac Hooke
As Rade continued firing at the distant enemy, he glanced occasionally at his overhead map, and saw Snakeoil’s randomly zig-zagging blue dot making its way toward the point position of S2.
“Gah, I’m hit!” Snakeoil said.
His blue dot froze on the map. Another dot appeared—he had ejected.
“Gotcha,” Grappler said. “Snakeoil is secured in my passenger seat.”
“Thank you, Grappler,” TJ responded. He sounded utterly relieved.
“You got it, boss,” Grappler replied.
Rade noticed Mauler was falling behind because of his missing foot. He was level with Keelhaul, but in a few more moments he assumed the drag position in S2.
“Mauler, use your jetpack to shore up your advance,” TJ said.
“I already am,” Mauler said. “I’m almost out of fuel. I think I’m going to have to eject.”
“Do it,” TJ said. “Keelhaul, prepare to receive him.”
Mauler’s mech continued to zig-zag away, serving as a diversion, while Mauler’s blue dot jetted from the mech.
Abruptly the dot representing Mauler’s ejected jumpsuit stopped moving.
“Mauler,” TJ said. “What happened? Do you read, Mauler?”
No answer.
“Keelhaul—” TJ began.
“Already going back for him,” Keelhaul replied.
“Cover Keelhaul, people!” TJ said. “Bomb, Fret, turn back to shield him.”
The blue dots representing Bomb and Fret in S2 retreated, clustering behind Keelhaul.
Keelhaul’s blue dot reached Mauler, then both dots moved forward in their zig-zag pattern once more. Bomb and Fret followed on drag behind them.
“He’s hit badly,” Keelhaul said. “Took a hit to his torso. Losing blood fast. I’m having my AI take over while I climb to the passenger seat and perform first aid.”
“Keep me updated,” TJ said.
Rade finally reached the burned-out pine forest on the shoulder of the mountain. Blackened, branchless trunks protruded from a ground of cinders.
“Keep going, Rage,” Facehopper said.
Rade obeyed, zig-zagging as he led S1 into the destroyed pines. The blackened boles would help shield them from the enemy lasers. Then again, the charred wood composing the trunks around him was probably so flimsy, the beams would pass right through. And unfortunately the dead pines weren’t all that helpful when it came to targeting the enemy either—his sights were constantly blocked. The predictive learning built into the weapon helped with that, but only somewhat.
The remainder of S1 piled inside. S2 reached the cover of the forest a moment later, and soon the entire platoon was hurrying through the trees.
Sky and the other AIs piloting the mechs were careful to avoid burned out logs and other natural protrusions and depressions underfoot. Even so, mechs occasionally tripped, including Rade’s own Zeus. He tried to catch himself with his left arm, but too late remembered the Zeus only had a stump on that side and he nearly wrecked his shoulder when the actuators transferred the resultant motion of the external limb to his own arm.
A deafening crack rent the air, far louder than any of the electrolaser discharges. As he clambered to his feet the forest floor shook terribly, and a shockwave passed through the trees, knocking his mech to the ground once more. His vision turned black.
“What happened to the cameras, Sky?” Raid said.
“The external cameras are fully functional,” the AI replied. “We have been enveloped by a gigantic cloud of dust.”
“Looks like the LC finally came through for us,” Trace said.
Rade arose. He switched to the thermal band provided by the Zeus, and he saw the outlines of the dead pines once again through the murk. Many of the burnt trees had toppled.
He glanced over his shoulder. In place of the plains there now lay a huge blast crater, roughly half a kilometer wide, glowing with heat.
“That had to be a warhead,” Manic said. “There’s no way a simple kinetic kill would have caused damage like that.”
“Maybe, but you’d be surprised what unpowered rocks lobbed through an atmosphere can do,” Tahoe said.
“Let’s move, mates,” Facechopper said. “On your feet. Already more tangos are coming.”
Rade could see them then, beyond the blast crater. Dozens of tiny, glowing dots.
“Maybe they don’t have thermal vision,” Trace said as the two squads moved out. A tree collapsed beside him, apparently hit by an incoming laser. “Guess they do.”
“Continue the zig-zag!” Facehopper said. “Head toward the plateau.”
The mechs tripped more often in the gloom, but the cloud began to thin as they neared its outer boundary, and in a few moments it lifted entirely.
Rade switched back to the visual band.
The plateau lay just ahead, five hundred meters away. It thrust up from the shoulder, forming a steep incline. He activated local-beam LIDAR and his image sensors computed a path up that face, one that required minimal use of jetpacks.
“Got a path, Chief.” Rade transmitted it to Facehopper. “Only problem is, we’ll be directly in the line of sight of the enemy while we climb. Those ledges are far too narrow to zig-zag our way up. I suggest we maneuver around to the left side of the plateau first, and then find a new path.”
“Go ahead and swing us around to the left side of the plateau, point man,” the chief replied.
“Sky, you heard the man,” Rade said.
The AI zig-zagged up the sloping shoulder, weaving in and out of the comb-like remains of burnt pines. Runnels occasionally appeared in the ground around him and trees sometimes fell nearby as the enemy lasers continued to harry them.
Rade reached the left portion of the plateau and continued alongside it. The steep wall towered above him, blotting out the sun. Another cliff slowly took shape across from it, forming the base of an adjacent mountain, so that soon he found himself trekking through a defile between them. The others were forced to follow in single file after him.
Rade assumed control of the mech and kept moving until the enemy was well out of sight behind them. During that time he had his LIDAR continually calculating paths up the cliff to his right.
“This looks like the best place to ascend,” he told the chief, transmitting the coordinates.
“Lead the way,” Facehopper said.
Rade alternately walked, alternately climbed the path before him. He sharpened the stump of his mech’s left forearm on the rocks, and used it as a pick during the steeper areas. Some of the damaged mechs behind him had to utilize their jumpjets to scale the more technically challenging areas. During the climb, the platoon members spent a few moments discussing various means of fending off the pursuers.
When they were a quarter of the way to the top, the enemy laser attack resumed. The two trailing mechs were struck. Lucky shots—only a few servomotors and pieces of armor were melted, and no one suffered any debilitating damage.
Yet.
“Initiate defense protocol Adiós Muchachos,” Facehopper said, using the name Rade had suggested for that plan.
thirty-four
To guard against vertigo, Rade switched control to the mech before he glanced downward. Surprisingly, he felt no dizziness. He aimed at the rocks several meters below the lowest member of the platoon. Since the rock arced outward slightly at his current height, he had an unobstructed view of his target, so he released the lightning bolt.
The other Zeus units with him likewise concentrated their fire on the cliff face. Chunks broke away from the wall, and soon a veritable avalanche had formed. A simple strategy from their playbook, admittedly, albeit an extremely useful one.
In moments the gorge below was buried in a dust cloud formed by the crushing rocks. The attack abated.
Rade swiveled his torso upward, resumed control of the Zeus, and continued the climb. He reached the top without further incident.
As the others clambered onto the expansive plateau behind him, he s
canned the landscape before him. Expanses of coarse grass alternated with bare rock and the stunted, knotted shrubs that clung to them. Granite outcrops occasionally sprung from the surface, which sloped in places but was otherwise relatively flat.
The booster rockets were spread out along the five kilometer radius that formed the top of plateau. On his overhead map, the locations appeared as flashing beacons.
There were only enough for eight mechs.
“Uh, I think the LC forgot a few boosters,” Trace said.
“We’re going to have to double up, mates. Makes more sense this way anyway: we’ll have AIs watching our backs the whole way.” Facehopper named off those members of the platoon who didn’t have passengers, and he paired them up with other pilots. His modus operandi seemed to be: transfer those operating the most damaged mechs to the passenger seats of the least damaged mechs.
When he got to Rade, he said: “Rage, shack up with TJ.”
“Roger that,” Rade said. To Sky: “Open her up.”
“It has been a pleasure serving with you, LPO,” the AI said as the cockpit hatch opened.
Rade smiled at the title. LPO. It was as if the mech was trying to tell him: “Even if you’re not LPO in name, you’ll always be my LPO.”
“The pleasure was mine. Fight well.” He leaped down.
Behind him, Sky and the other abandoned mechs assumed guard positions at the edge of the plateau. They would have their work cut out for them when the robots arrived.
TJ knelt to allow Rade into the passenger seat.
“I should probably put on a helmet,” Rade said.
“Now’s as good a time as any,” TJ agreed. “I got one in stowage, I believe.”
The stowage compartment popped open in TJ’s leg. Sure enough, a helmet resided therein. The platoon members usually carried the parts for two complete jumpsuits spread out among their storage compartments.
Rade grabbed the helmet and attached it. One of the nice things about MOTH helmets: they were all the same size, and thus interchangeable.
Rade shut the compartment and pulled himself into the passenger seat. Once he was buckled in, TJ proceeded toward the northern side of the plateau.
“I’m allocating the boosters,” TJ said. “Purple means its yours.”
Rade noticed that TJ chose the farthest booster rocket for himself, located four kilometers away, close to the northern edge of the plateau.
“Looks like you want to go for a little strength-enhanced jog today,” Rade told him.
No answer.
“You know, as LPO, in theory you should be taking a closer rocket,” Rade said. “That whole not-supposed-to-put-yourself-in-danger thing.”
“The chief seemed happy enough with my allotment,” TJ said. “Besides, I prefer it this way. I’ve already put my men in enough danger.”
“All right.” Rade said. After a few moments of silence he asked: “So you’re enjoying life as an LPO, then? Is it everything you dreamed of?”
“Don’t want to talk about it,” TJ said.
The others began to take off around them. Those Zeus mechs that were airborne fired lateral thrusters randomly, zig-zagging in midair to guard against enemy laser attacks from below. Rade wasn’t looking forward to the G forces that would involve.
TJ was still sprinting toward the last remaining booster rocket by the time everyone else had taken off.
“I hope to hell the final booster isn’t a dud,” TJ said when they were a kilometer out.
“But Big Navy extensively QAs every component before placing it into the field,” Rade said sarcastically. QAs stood for quality assures.
“Yeah,” TJ said. “Tell that to the guy in Bravo platoon who tried to fire his electrolaser and blew off his own arm.”
“I heard that rumor,” Rade said. “Thought it wasn’t true.”
“Oh it was true,” TJ said. “I saw the guy in the infirmary unit. Pyro. You know him, right? His whole arm was bandaged up. They probably had to bioprint him a new one.”
“Sheesh,” Rade said.
“Then there’s the other guy in Bravo whose heat shield failed to deploy during atmospheric entry,” TJ said. “His Zeus burned right up.”
“You serious?”
“No, I’m just messing with you on that one,” TJ said.
Fighting erupted behind them when they were about half a klick to the booster rocket.
“Be aware, it appears they have jumpers,” Sky sent.
Because of his position in the passenger seat of TJ’s mech, Rade was facing the far edge that Sky and the other abandoned mechs guarded. He zoomed in and spotted scorpion units equipped with jumpjets; they thrust through the air in wide arcs, raining down death from above.
The Zeus units put up quite a fight, their AIs bringing down wave after wave of enemies, but the scorpions kept coming, and in under a minute all of the Zeus mechs had fallen. Sky was the last one standing, and when the Zeus finally toppled, its body was riddled with so many laser bores that Rade had no idea how the AI had kept fighting for so long.
Valiant to the end. I chose its name wisely.
Rade only hoped that when his time came, he would battle with half the courage and fury.
TJ had the mech begin evasive maneuvers so that the Zeus advanced in a randomized zig-zag.
Rade withdrew the blaster from his belt and linked it to the AI of the mech—after TJ approved the request. He pointed the blaster at the distant units; the AI basically aimed for him, compensating for the haphazard, jerky motions of the Zeus chassis.
“Don’t fire yet, Rage,” TJ said. “I don’t think they’ve noticed us.”
“All right,” Rade replied. He didn’t want to draw the attention of those scorpions any more than TJ did.
He saw a flash to his right—a small shrub had been incinerated, and a fresh runnel had been carved into the rocky terrain beside it.
So we’ve been spotted.
Rade fired.
Because of the small focusing mirror, the weapon wasn’t powerful enough to do any real damage at that range. Not unexpectedly, his opponent didn’t fall. But he had to try.
He fired again. And again.
The world turned black.
Rade opened his eyes. Strangely, he was slumped forward in the passenger seat. The rocky terrain below streamed past as the Zeus continued to weave to and fro in its random advance. Text flashed on the HUD of his faceplate, accompanied by a strident tone.
Suit perforated. Warning. Suit perforated.
He sat up and flinched at the sudden pain in his side.
He activated the suit diagnostic display and a front-view silhouette of the jumpsuit overlaid his vision. A red dot flashed near his midsection, where the pain had come from. He was bleeding externally from both entrance and exit wounds, as well as internally, according to his vitals. Sometimes laser strikes could be self-cauterizing, depending on the spot size, and the intent of the weapon. Apparently, the laser that had struck him had been designed to kill, not injure.
TJ reached the bulky fuel tanks of the booster and strapped himself in to the payload area on the far side. He ignited the tanks directly, skipping the preignition sequence. The Zeus roared skyward.
The noise canceler in Rade’s helmet kicked in, muting most of the sound.
Nozzles fired randomly from the boosters in the three hundred sixty degrees of the horizontal plane, changing the direction of the overall ascent every few seconds. Whether that would be enough to prevent them from being shot down, Rade couldn’t say.
He wondered if TJ still had any charges left in his Trench Coat—he vaguely expected a missile to come in from somewhere closer to the city, but apparently the enemy wasn’t paying that much attention to a few fleeing mechs.
“I think a laser hit one of the tanks,” TJ shouted over the comm, above the noise. “We’ll have enough fuel to attain escape velocity, but not much else.”
So much for the enemy not paying attention. Then again, the strike might hav
e occurred before takeoff.
Rade retrieved the suit repair kit from the left-hand cargo pocket of the jumpsuit leg assembly, but with the G forces assailing him, he had difficulty opening it up. It didn’t help that he was shivering constantly from the sudden cold, nor that the pain flared every time the mech changed horizontal directions.
He finally managed to pry the lid aside and grabbed one of the patches. He slapped it onto his midsection, sealing the entry perforation. He was wondering how he was going to seal the exit hole at the rear of the suit, given how much pain twisting his torso caused him—there was no analgesic in the kit, not like in a complete medbag, which he didn’t have.
I’ll just have to grin and bear it...
He reached for the second patch, but the mech changed directions once again, and the entire suitrep kit tore from his grasp. Numbly, he watched it spiral away into the atmosphere below.
“Rage, you’re awfully quiet back there,” TJ said. “Everything okay? Rage?” He must have checked Rade’s vitals then, because his next words were: “Shit! I’m swinging back there to patch your suit, bro.”
“No,” Rade said. “Stay... in cockpit.”
Darkness encroached upon his vision. He felt like he was going to black out again, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the Gs, or his wound. Probably a combination of the two.
“I’m coming damn it!” TJ sent.
The hull began to vibrate differently, and Rade suspected that the cockpit hatch had fallen open.
“No,” Rade said. “Too... risky. Boss.”
Rade struggled to stay conscious, knowing that if he went under in that moment, he might never wake up.
But the weight of the darkness seemed to increase by the second. He couldn’t stave it off.
Never... give... in...
“Stay with me, Rage!” TJ sounded desperate.
Rade’s eyes closed with the weight of the world and he surrendered to oblivion.
thirty-five
Rade passed into and out of consciousness. He had flashes of himself strapped into the passenger seat, floating in space above the planet, escorted by Zeus mechs. Then he was in the hangar bay of a starship, weighed down by artificial gravity; he coughed terribly, tasting blood—it felt like he was drowning in it. Then he was passing through tight passageways on the gurney of a transport robot; his suit had been stripped off, and he felt extremely cold, but couldn’t shiver: his breath misted on the tight translucent shell that contained him. Then he was inside a glass tank, lying on a bed; the telescoping fingers of a surgical Weaver pressed an anesthesia mask onto his face. When he saw those metallic appendages, he felt a sudden panic, remembering the needles that had almost been driven into his skull by a similar robot, but then the anesthetic took effect.