by Brett Patton
“Permission to open fire, sir,” Norah said.
Matt whipped around on her. She’d exchanged her Zap Gun for an MK-160. The gun was comically huge against the pitiful weapons of their attackers.
“Hold!” Matt yelled, stepping in front of her. They weren’t in danger from the HuMax’s weapons. There was no way such a pathetic force could overwhelm three Demons.
“Our orders—”
“The hell with them!” Matt cried, his eyes leaking tears.
He remembered his promise, just before the mission had started: “I’ll find out what’s happening. I’ll drag it into the light.”
That was his new purpose.
Matt’s Perfect Record played back an image from his past: Merging with the HuMax city of Jotunheim, and being gifted with their knowledge of the Expansion.
Biometal calls to metal, he thought. Everything seeks to Merge.
Matt plunged his Mecha talons into the air-lock control panel, feeling the shock of electricity mixed with the thrill of data. Ropes of biometallic muscle Merged with the conduit, chasing it to its origin. Deep down, to the Union computer beating at the heart of the installation. A very well-guarded computer. Because this was UARL, the most advanced Union technology branch. The same people his father used to work for.
Deep in Mesh, Matt’s mind met the computer. It responded with suspicion and a challenge. But its secrets were poorly hidden; a note made by a Union scientist on an insecure line revealed the pass code, and Matt was soon inside, drowning in data.
In the space of milliseconds, everything was laid bare. And Matt’s whole life changed forever.
* * *
Code-named UARL: Arcadia/Progress 001, it was one of the Union’s most secret development programs, intended not only to study HuMax, but to breed and improve upon them.
Starting fifty years ago with forty-one “founding stock,” the Union scientists worked to decode the HuMax’s genetic makeup and isolate their beneficial traits. The first result of that research was a refined genetic code base—one still deemed too risky to deploy to the general Union population.
Matt reeled. Not only had the Union been working with HuMax, but they had completely mapped and cataloged their genome. If that knowledge had been released, families could have selectively chosen even more amazing genetic enhancements for their children.
“Except everyone would have chosen everything.” Dr. Roth’s voice came back to Matt. “That’s what humans do. Tick all the boxes on the options sheet. And then you’re back at HuMax. And HuMax are uncontrollable.”
It got worse.
UARL documents referred to “most secret” founding Union data from the “initial HuMax development program.” That data went back over two hundred years, and included coordinates of known HuMax settlements like Prospect. Performance data rated HuMax variants by hardiness, efficiency, reliability, and effectiveness. It was like reading an engineering report on a new piece of machinery.
Matt’s mind reeled. Rayder had been telling the truth. The Union had created the HuMax!
Their gruesome research continued to this day. The giant carbon-fiber-wrapped hulk was described as an “Enhanced HuMax Type/+size+strength+longevity.” The one with four arms was an “Enhanced HuMax Type/+appendages+versatility.” There were dozens of others, from +empathy+perception to +durability/partial-vac-capable. Video showed the artificial wombs where the HuMax were grown, the tests on the screaming violet-and-golden-eyed children, and the reams of observational data on the adults in every type of situation, from combat to sex (forced and consensual).
And it showed the postnatal experiments. Some of the HuMax weren’t born with enhanced capabilities. Their genomes were rewritten by retrovirus after they had reached adulthood. Sweating, screaming superhumans struggled against their carbon-fiber bonds on sterile stainless steel tables as UARL scientists watched. A snippet of one scientist’s report leapt out at Matt: “resequencing allows for more variations to be studied in a shorter period of time relative to pure breeding programs, with relatively low mortality load.”
Matt squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. Everything he was told was a lie. The Union had made the HuMax, it studied the HuMax, and it continued its invasive research, even at the cost of lives.
Only heavy doses of soporifics in the water supply had kept the HuMax under control. At least until one of their genetic rewrites rendered a couple of the HuMax insensitive to it.
That was what precipitated the revolt: first, turning off the drug feed, then taking over the remote research facility. The HuMax captured the researchers and demanded they arrange passage off the world. But, remote as it was, and secure as it was, Planet 5 was served only by Union military and the Mecha Corps.
There was no way out. The HuMax used the FTLcomm to try to reach help, but they were at the edge of any human exploration; no one came.
Except the Union, of course. The Union, via Matt and his kill squad.
When UUS Ulysses appeared, they tried to capture it. A last, desperate measure to save themselves. An impossible task. Of course they’d failed.
And now my orders are to ensure their total defeat. To kill every one of these beings.
Everything he believed, up in smoke. Every thought about the valorous Union, shredded. Matt retracted his Demon’s talons from the control panel.
Disobeying orders was treason, plain and simple. He had to kill the HuMax if he wanted any future with Mecha Corps.
Kill them, said the voice in his Mecha, veiled by static and dust. Kill them all.
But the voice was far away, distant. His mind was whirling with the implications. This whole thing was a setup. The Union knew he was the best man for the job. After all, he’d taken out Rayder. His father had been killed by a HuMax. He was the final solution.
Reward, not recognition, Matt thought, remembering Colonel Cruz’s words. But no reward would erase the Perfect Record of this massacre if he went through with it.
Matt stood and placed himself between the HuMax rebels and his team. “Stand down,” he told Norah and Xie. “Hold fire.”
“Sir, our orders are to eliminate anything moving,” Norah said, her MK-160 twitching.
“Do not fire! That’s an order!”
“Yes, sir.” Norah’s gun barrel descended toward the floor. Her Mecha’s posture indicated irritation.
“What are your orders, sir?” Xie asked.
“Pull back. This area is secure.”
Reluctantly, the two giant Mecha backed away. The peppering of depleted-uranium bullets on Matt’s backside abated. Behind him, the HuMax glanced at each other uncertainly, not sure about this new development. Matt turned to address them. Maybe there could be some kind of resolution to this beyond killing.
Colonel Cruz’s voice boomed in Matt’s ear: “Major, status report!”
“Completing my mission, sir,” Matt told him.
“Don’t lie to me! We’ve been monitoring your status!”
“And you still want me to kill them all, sir?”
“Yes. Proceed!”
Matt sighed. His future, elusive as it had been, went up in flames. He simply couldn’t do it.
I’m not a tool, Matt thought. I’m a person.
And for once, it was time to make a good choice.
“No,” Matt told Cruz.
“Are you refusing a direct order?”
“Yes, sir. I’m afraid I am, sir.”
Cruz’s voice snapped off his private comms with a clipped curse. His comms icon immediately popped back up on the COL. CRUZTEAM channel.
“This is Colonel James Cruz,” his voice boomed. “New orders. I am removing Major Lowell from command. Disregard any further orders from him. Mr. Lowell, return to the Helios immediately.”
A short pause. “Full team, proc
eed with orders to eliminate all life-forms at objective.”
6
ROGUE
“Step aside,” Norah said, aiming her MK-160 straight at Matt’s visor.
Behind her, the air-lock door framed an icy world sliding toward night, with long shadows casting the fissure into deep dusk.
In that moment, Matt felt everything as if outside himself. The desperate HuMax lab subjects behind him, fighting to protect the last thing they had. Norah in front of him, sighting down the barrel of the MK-160 and a posture of grim purpose. Xie standing next to her, looking around uncertainly, his rifle still pointed at the floor.
Matt sighed. He could go back to the UUS Helios and face the Union. Given the deep-cover nature of the mission, there would certainly be a court-martial—and he’d lose every chance to get the answers he sought.
But that’s the only choice, Matt thought. What else could he do? Try to convince his team to stand down, after being given a direct order from Colonel Cruz?
Or fight next to the HuMax rebels? That was even crazier. Why would he fight to protect the race that murdered his father? The race that almost brought about the end of all humanity?
Matt turned to look behind him. The HuMax rebels had stopped firing. They could tell that when one giant robot was holding a gun on the other, something significant was happening. They watched the three Mecha with wide violet-and-yellow eyes, even as many of them died from exposure in their leaking, jerry-rigged space suits.
Kill them, a voice rasped again, like static in Matt’s mind. Make your space. Rule them all.
“Move.” Norah’s voice rasped through the comms as she motioned with her MK-160.
“What are we going to do now?” Michelle had asked him, a million years ago.
“Save the universe,” Matt had told her. “From whatever it needs saving from.”
Even the Union, the voice rasped. And in that moment, it made sense. Even though Matt knew the pain and insanity that gibbered behind it.
Matt holstered his own MK-160 and held up his hands, as if surrendering. He stepped away from the HuMax and headed for the air lock. His footfalls echoed like rifle cracks in the thin atmosphere.
Norah swiveled her gun to point at the HuMax. Xie still pointed his at the floor.
At the air lock, Matt plunged his talons into the control panel again and reached out to grab Norah’s Demon’s shoulder. His Demon’s arm elongated to close the gap between the two Mecha as Xie recoiled in surprise. His claws dug deep into Norah’s shoulder. Her angry, panicked thoughts flooded into him as she yelled in surprise over the comms.
What are you doing! Not in my mind again! No! Stop!
Matt pulled Norah back toward his Mecha, bowling her off her feet. He dragged her into Xie’s Demon and heard the sob of his thoughts. Once all three Demons were in contact with each other, Matt thought, Merge.
No! No! Can’t Merge! Norah screamed.
Why? Xie asked.
Matt’s talons flowed into Norah’s shoulder as Xie’s tangled arms melted into the other two Mecha. Their thoughts beat at him, panicky and confused.
Stop Merge and hold, Matt thought. Their transition slowed and ceased. The Merge slowly began to reverse. Matt struggled to keep it stable, but he could only slow the process. They’d soon deMerge, and he’d lose control over Norah and Xie. He’d have to be quick.
First things first, though. Matt cycled the outer air lock shut and began pressurizing the dock. The atmospheric readouts climbed toward green, as the HuMax’s makeshift space suits slowly stopped outgassing.
Let me show you, Matt told Norah and Xie, channeling the summary of the Union’s HuMax research project to the two other pilots.
At the same time, he opened the air lock’s inner doors so they could see the interior of the Union research installation.
It looked like videos of old-time prisons, pre-Expansion stuff from Earth. Floor-to-ceiling rows of cells flanked either side of a sterile plaza. Utilitarian walkways passed by every cell. There were no bars, but large, clear windows ensured that the cell’s occupants had no privacy. Some were heavily scarred. Others were pristine. Overtop all, the ribbed translucent ceiling glowed faintly purple in the dying daylight, casting a pallid glow over the entire scene. From some of the cells, yellow-and-violet eyes looked down on the air lock, quivering in terror.
You see? Matt asked the other two pilots. You see what they’ve been doing?
It’s horrible, Xie thought, his mind sending overtones of revulsion and panic. He was genemod himself. Was this where his enhancements came from? If so, how was he truly any different than these people here?
We have orders, Norah thought, her mind clamped desperately around a grim idolization of the Union. There are other reasons. We don’t know everything.
That’s what I thought, Matt told her.
I am nothing like you! Norah screamed in her mind, suddenly pushing him away. Matt’s talons came out of her shoulder. She was now connected to him only through Xie. Matt was losing control.
Norah, Matt thought. Just look—
Depleted-uranium slugs stitched across Matt’s torso, needle pricks of pain. Matt looked up. Inside the Union installation, in the broad plaza, stood two Imp Mecha, carrying old-style MK-14 rifles.
Matt frowned in grim memory. Through his childhood, his most prized possession had been an Imp Mecha model. He used to hold it at night as his refugee ship dropped off to sleep, and dream of using an Imp to wipe out the man who killed his father. His first exercise in Mecha Training Camp had been against an augmented Imp. It seemed he couldn’t escape them.
Compared to the Demons, the Imps were tiny, primitive things, titanium space frames and aerogel armor, with tiny slits of duraplas for the pilot to peer through. Purely mechanical technology, with a weak fusion core. They were still used widely in industry and on frontier worlds because of their durability, but they were no match for a Hellion, much less a Demon. This was just the last-ditch effort by the HuMax to protect their home.
We’re taking fire! Norah screamed in his mind, her brain twisting and bucking like an animal aflame.
Before Matt could react, she threw off the last vestiges of his Merge and scrambled to her feet, drawing her MK-160 in one smooth motion. She charged into the hail of depleted-uranium fire, her head down.
“Stop!” Matt shouted.
Norah brought up her giant rifle and pressed the trigger. Muzzle flashes strobed the plaza. One of the Imps rocked back in the impact of the fifty-millimeter slugs, spraying titanium and aerogel armor shards. The other reversed course and scrambled back toward the rear corridor it had emerged from. Norah charged forward and pumped more slugs into the first Imp. In the enclosed space, the reverberation of her gun was immense, like thunder. The fallen Imp quivered and lay still.
Matt tried to go after her, but he was still Merged with the control panel. DeMerge! he thought desperately. His hand emerged from the metal, but the process seemed immensely, painfully slow. Xie still cowered where he’d fallen, his Demon trembling in confusion.
“I’m out,” Xie mumbled over the comms. “I’m out of this. Leave me out of all this. Please.”
As Matt came free of the control panel, the second Imp entered the tunnel, turned, and launched a half dozen old-style Streaker antipersonnel missiles. They hissed at Norah’s Demon. She ran straight at them, never faltering. She batted away two aimed at her visor in great greasy fireballs. The rest impacted and exploded on her Demon with no effect. She ran trailing flame, her MK-160 thundering destruction. Depleted-uranium slugs annihilated the door frame where the Imp had launched its missiles. But the Imp itself was long gone, down a tunnel of ice. Norah slammed into the tunnel entrance and thrashed at it in anger. Her Demon was too big to fit into the three-meter-tall tunnel.
Matt launched himself at he
r. He had no idea what he’d do when he reached her Demon, or what the future held. He only knew he had to protect these innocent people. The rest would follow.
Norah whirled to aim at him. Matt tucked away his MK-160 and withdrew his Zap Gun. Norah scrambled to match him as he tore across the plaza.
Could he shoot precisely enough with the Zap Gun to disable her Demon? Without killing her? Without taking the whole facility out? Matt clamped his teeth together grimly and aimed.
A bright flash from overhead blinded Matt as a thunderous crack reverberated through the facility. Instinctively he ducked and rolled, bringing his Zap Gun up toward the source of the light. A brief hurricane plucked at his giant Mecha, whistling past his ears.
Two red Demons, riding pillars of antimatter thrust, descended through a gaping hole in the ceiling of the Union research lab. One carried a third Demon around the waist. Behind the Mecha, stars had begun to glitter in the deepening dusk.
Around them, the contents of the facility fountained out as the atmosphere blasted out of the roof. HuMax in makeshift space suits were sucked off their feet and flung into the deadly-thin atmosphere of the frozen world. Others gasped and thrashed on the floor, trying to breathe. Air streamed out of two hundred closed cells, screaming like claws on glass in the thin atmosphere. Some of the cells had been barricaded with sealant. Most hadn’t.
Marjan, Mikey, and Elize had arrived.
* * *
Marjan came at Matt like an arrow. A giant red arrow, a demigod of hell. For long moments, Matt could do nothing but think, It’s all over as the HuMax writhed and died in the tenuous atmosphere outside. He was only dimly aware of Norah and Mikey, aiming their Zap Guns at the opposite blocks of cells.
Marjan slammed into Matt. His cockpit rang like a bell, and Matt’s Demon hit the plaza floor hard, banging his visor against the steel decking. In that moment of contact, he felt everything: Marjan’s dark thoughts of rending and tearing Matt’s Demon to bits, his murderous hate for the show-off who’d shamed him in the Mecha, his satisfaction with Colonel Cruz’s orders to ensure the complete destruction of the hidden Union installation and everything inside it.