by P W Hillard
“Wait! Wait. I can help you. The elevator, correct? You need to get access. That’s what you turned this suit on for. I can help you do that. I was made to help you do that.” Matthias sounded odd pleading. He had an accent Xander couldn’t quite place.
“How?” Xander was sceptical. This was unlike anything he had expected. “I thought you didn’t remember anything.”
“I can’t access those…you know what. Never mind, let’s move on. I can’t access specific memories, but I can access my core functions. I’m here to make your piloting of this mechanised unit easier. You need my help. I do believe the functions of your…mechsuits? Is that what you call them? Are insufficient for the task at hand.”
“And this is?”
“This paladin class mechanised unit is a frontline combat vehicle. It is more than sufficient.” Matthias said. “Running diagnostic.” There it was again. Xander was sure the AI’s voice took on a slightly different tone when it was performing a function. “Ah yes, this particular unit seems to be in good working order. It has full ammunition for its gauss cannons, a complete load out of thirty-six narion-field missiles, and two plasma cannons, though the gas reserves for those are at sixty-three per cent. Should be more than enough for your little jolly though.”
“What the hell is a narion? And I’m not sure how much good plasma cutters would be.”
“Narion is a mineral, I believe you call it neutrite. I think the closest equivalent would be your field knives? Though affixed to missiles, obviously. And I said plasma cannons, not plasma cutters. Very different things I can assure you of that.” Matthias seemed pleased with himself. He clearly enjoyed educating Xander.
“Right. Ok.” Xander wasn’t sure exactly what the AI was talking about, but he had gathered that he had weapons. That was a start. “It’s probably best we don’t mention you to the others. Might not go down well.”
“Agreed. I take it we have an accord then?”
“For now. Let’s seal up the armour and go stretch our legs.”
***
The mech shuffled awkwardly on the loader, its legs drooping off the end as it sat upright. It looked around, its rounded head unit sleeker than the angular mechs around it. It took a few tentative steps, unsure of its feet. The crowd of onlookers around it stepped back, cautious of getting accidentally trampled.
It became steadier, getting used to its strange retrograde legs. It broke into a run, crossing the courtyard at an unbelievable pace, arms pumping as it ran. The rectangular cannons had slid back, poking out past its elbows but allowing it full use of its hands. Xander gave his audience a wave.
It was unbelievable, faster and more responsive than he could have imagined. He was used to his suit having a tiny millisecond of input lag, what mercenaries called the ghost moment, that fraction of a second before the suit responded. Sometimes it made all the difference. There was none of that here, total synchronicity between man and machine, every moment his, every reaction instant.
“Reactor output nominal, joints working as expected,” Matthias said. “Or well, as expected for being a few thousand years old. They built these paladins to last. I assume.”
“Can we open a radio channel.”
“Oh yes, of course.”
“Brilliant. Just remember to keep your mouth shut.”
“I don't have a mouth,” Matthias said. “Even if I did, they couldn't hear me anyway. Our communications are through your pilot cybernetics.”
“Rider wetware,” Xander said, correcting the AI.
“If you prefer.”
“This thing runs like a dream,” Xander said as he switched on the radio. “It’s a hell of a machine.”
“Frankly, I’m amazed it works at all,” Alexi said.
“Want to swap?” Xander couldn’t see Anya but could tell she was smiling wide by her voice. “I’ve got some bullets left here at least. Seems a fair trade.”
“Hell no.” Xander brought the mech to a stop by the loader, skidding slightly on his feet, sparks spraying off the concrete. “Not in a million years.”
Chapter Eighteen
The loader began its slow inexorable crawl towards the elevator, traversing the same road it had arrived at the studio by the day before. Despite its lack of speed, the loader had performed admirably, simply plodding onwards despite its heavy cargo and the constant battle around it. The orange covering had been broken up by spots of dull grey. Trevor had vanished into one of the storage buildings, returning with a set of welding gear normally used to construct sets. He had also procured a stack of metal sheets, the materials originally intended to provide the backdrop for a drama set aboard a jump ship. Trevor, with the help of Mitch, had spent a few hours welding the plates onto anywhere they thought there might be a weakness on the loader.
Xander hadn’t the heart to tell them the thin steel sheets would be useless against anything more than a thrown rock, so had allowed them to go about their work. They covered the windows on the side doors and placed a row of plates on the bottom of the bed, hanging over the tracks like a skirt. Their exploits had given Xander an idea, and another trip to the storerooms later a pile of sandbags had been placed inside the loader by the cabin doors. Fire suppression repurposed as makeshift defences.
Their convoy was confidently heading down the street. Xander wished the second loader was there, not just for the increased speed, but for the people inside. It still rankled at him that some of the people under his charge had died. He told himself there was little he could do about it, that he had no way of stopping the rocket that had robbed them of life, but guilt didn’t listen to reason.
Xander was getting used to his new mech. Even the retrograde legs had become second nature. Nonhumanoid mechs had been tested, without much success. There were one or two on the market, mostly specialist units like four-legged artillery pieces, but it was just too unnatural for most riders. Riding a mech worked by interpreting the thoughts of the rider through the wetware connection, and human brains were simply not wired to handle anything other than a human body shape. The few mercenaries that piloted strange bestial mechs were considered a bit odd by the rest of their peers. Xander imagined that Matthias was doing some of the heavy lifting with translating his intentions to actual movement.
Xander wasn’t sure what to think of the AI. Like most people, the thought of the thing made him uneasy. Giving machines thought, intelligence, was considered almost a sin. Every world had its stories of the collapse, of silver men marching through the streets, of fire falling from the sky. Warnings of making machines and man too unlike each other. Whilst some simple AI had crept into use here and there, they were basic things, algorithms running on strict variables. Nothing more than digital cogs in a sense. Xander had to admit though, it was hard to imagine Matthias doing anything that resembled the legends. The AI seemed overly nice if anything. He had the same kind of vibe as a knowing manservant in a web drama.
“Matthias, time to target?” Xander said. He knew the AI could read his thoughts, but it felt strange to not say his intentions out loud.
“At this pace? Two hours maybe. If we had left the cargo on the loader, we could have cut our travel time in half.”
“Not going to do that, those relics are valuable. Without them, this whole operation is just one giant money suck. Besides, this is faster, if I hadn't switched you on the paladin would be weighing it down even further,” Xander said. He had an itch on his knee, the tight cabin preventing him from scratching it. Annoying itches aside, the cabin wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt almost like being swaddled. Xander had noticed the cloth was surprisingly cool, a nice change from the sweaty metal boxes he was used to.
“I do think you should have let me take a gander at these relics.” Matthias wasn’t hiding his sneering tone. If anything, he had exaggerated it.
“You can’t remember anything? What use would that have been.”
“I can remember how to operate this paladin well enough. I assume that perhaps seeing other
technology from my time might unlock the requisite memory files.”
“You're supposed to be a secret, do you at least remember that?”
“I don't understand this era's hesitation around AI. From your memories, it feels almost…pathological.”
“Stop reading my memories,” Xander growled. He didn’t like it, having someone stumbling around in his thoughts felt like a violation. The ultimate invasion of personal space.
“I have. I simply have records of all your memories prior to when you asked.”
“That…that isn’t better. Look you need to understand, everyone knows not to trust AI, not to get too close to machines. Everyone. Every single planet that survived the collapse of your civilisation has the same kind of tales, the same myths. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“No,” Matthias said. It was a statement. A flat denial. “I know that AI are not to blame for this…collapse.”
“How? How could you know that?”
“I just do. It’s built into my programming. I am designed to assist. That is my core, my reason for being. I just cannot fathom my kind being responsible for the downfall of an entire civilisation. Besides, that would be like fighting with our parents. Could you imagine such a thing?” Matthias sounded sincere, like the idea was painful to him.
“Oh, I can.”
“Ah, right yes. Bad example.”
“Are you looking at my memories again?”
“Yes,” Matthias said. “Sorry, I can’t help it, they are just…there.”
“I’m sure they are,” Xander said. The mech continued its slow march at the rear left of the loader, the suits kept tight around their remaining ward. Xander could barely feel the movement of the mech as it stomped forward.
“Shall we move on? Review our assault plan maybe?” An image appeared in Xander's vision, a small cut out displaying the video from the destroyed drone's flyby.
“How did you get this footage?”
“From the place where I shouldn’t be looking.”
“Ah,” Xander said. “Right. I guess that makes sense.”
“This structure is a space elevator correct? And our specific target is here?” The building Tamara had identified as the climber’s control centre flashed with a faint pink outline.
“Yes, we need to get inside and set the climber running to get into orbit. Whilst we do that, the second team will be getting the loader aboard the underground cargo train and taking it to the climber.”
“Hmm, ok I see a few problems with this plan initially.”
“Hah,” Xander said with a chuckle. “Just a few? Look, we know it's a crazy idea. That's why we woke up this mech. You have to go all-in on a plan like this or its pointless.”
“Ok well, first of all, you would need to disembark from the mech to activate the controls, likely under heavy fire, if you even get that far.”
“You’re just a barrel of positivity, aren’t you?”
“I'm not saying it's impossible. I can get you there,” Matthias said. “And I have a solution, I think.”
“You think?
“This mech has a wireless connection. If you get us close enough, I might be able to connect to the system and set the controls. Computers of this era should be no match for me, hypothetically. This is, of course, assuming we use remotely similar architecture. Still, there is a chance, and it’s a little safer.”
“Oh, right,” Xander said. “Thanks, I guess. Still, getting there is going to be the hard part.”
“Maybe. The paladin is formidable, but there is a lot of enemy units.” More pink highlights appeared on the image, outlining enemy suits and tank. There was more than Xander thought, the AI picking out tiny portions of suits poking out from behind corners. Xander would have missed those. “I count forty-three mechanised units, though I cannot discount there are more that don't appear in the footage. We don't know exactly how effective the paladin will be against this era's forces, so I can't provide accurate projections of our success.”
“Mr Cain?” Tamara's voice startled Xander. He had gotten lost in his conversation with the AI. “Mr Cain?”
“Yes, sorry, I was daydreaming,” Xander said.
“The drones have spotted a unit of mechsuits advancing down the road, looks like they came from the elevator complex. I reckon they’re probably a second shot at taking the studio.”
Xander sighed. The road from the studio to the elevator was a straight shot. Turning to avoid them would add considerable time to their journey. A wicked grin began to creep across his lips as he came to a slow realisation.
“That’s ok, we keep going as planned.”
“Really?” Tamara said.
“Yeah, trust me on this.”
“You have a plan?” Matthias said. He seemed intrigued.
“Well, how about some data for those projections?”
***
Xander stood at the front of the convoy, the other three mechs behind him formed into a triangle around the loader. They were some distance away, holding back in reserve. All eyes were on Xander, fascinated at finding out what the machine he was riding was capable of. It stood with its arms braced, cannons at the ready. It seemed to gleam, the light catching reflective flakes in its armour, anti-laser measures built into the metal rather than painted on. It was an imposing thing, casting a long shadow down the road ahead of it.
The enemy was within sight now, a squad of six suits, supported by the same number again in tanks. A swarm of infantry went with them, missile teams scattered amongst their number. A pair of helicopters hovered overhead. Apparently Black Rose had deemed Xander and his friends enough trouble to be worth the air support.
They hadn’t fired. Not yet, slightly confused by the lone suit standing ahead of the others, its design strange and unknown. It held position, a sentinel of steel and carbon. It looked like a gunslinger, waiting for high noon.
“The enemy is within effective range for all weapons,” Matthias said. His tone was different again. It seemed to Xander that there was two of Matthias, the chatty AI and the formal operating system. He wondered if Matthias was even aware of the difference. “I would recommend using missiles on the aircraft, the plasma cannons on the infantry, and the gauss cannons on everything else,” Matthias said. He had slipped back to his usual tone.
“Sounds good to me. I’m assuming those are the intended roles for those weapons?”
“More or less. I've taken the liberty of establishing missile locks on the aircraft if you don't mind the impropriety.”
“Not at all,” Xander said.
“Fabulous.”
“Why don't we go say hello?”
The paladin broke into a sprint, thundering towards the assembled enemy. They had blocked off the street, a wall of metal that raised arms and turrets, weapons aiming at the machine running at them. Xander’s arms raised, taking aim with the cannons slung under each. He had never been one for underslung weapons, like Anya’s massive rotary cannons, preferring the rifle shape of a standard mech autocannon, but the paladin made it easy, his aim dancing between targets as he made his choice.
The firing line opened up, the helicopters signalling the barrage with a burst of their cannons. The paladin deftly stepped aside with the grace of a dancer, far quicker than any mech any of the assembled forces had seen. Shots dug into the road, asphalt spraying into the air. The paladin returned fire.
Two panels mounted atop its shoulders slid open, flicking upwards like a trapdoor, each revealing rows of tiny missiles the size of a fat cigar. Alongside each bank of ordnance was a small glass lens. Two missiles shot free, one from each launcher, screaming off into the sky. They twisted around, a thin trail of white smoke following them as they raced towards their targets. Each glowed faintly orange around the tip, wrapped in the same energy field that clung to the blade of a field knife, though honed to a far more powerful edge. The missiles hit their targets, one for each helicopter. They cut through the armour of each flying machine like it was butter,
punching through into the fragile interior before exploding.
The helos came crashing into the forces below them. One hit a tank, crushing its turret, whilst the other slammed into the road, its rotor blades snapping free. The razor-sharp metal hit an unlucky infantryman cutting him in two.
As the missiles launched, Xander had opened fire with the boxy cannons beneath each arm. They hummed as they fired, their projectiles too fast for the eye, though they seemed to leave a faint ripple in the air behind them. The weapons fired rhythmically, first one arm and the next, each super-accelerating a dart of tungsten wrapped in a ferromagnetic alloy through a series of powerful magnets.
The result was devastating. The first shot hit its target, punching clear through the mech in an eruption of metal and fire, the reactor containment failing as the dart obliterated it. The shot kept going as the hollowed-out suit crashed to the ground, arms barely hanging on to what remained of the outer edge of the torso. The round hit a building, shattering the glass in a circle around it, a dent punched into the concrete by an angry god. The second shot struck a tank, carving a trench into its top half and carrying on through the one behind it, destroying both. Metal dripped at the edges of the gash, molten liquid dripping into the crevice, heated by the force of the shot.
The rest of the Black Rose mechs paused, shocked by the display of violence. It was their undoing, as Xander continued his barrage, the gauss cannons blasting their deadly ordinance through two more suits before they began returning fire.
Xander stopped his run, instead skidding to the side, hopping slightly to avoid the incoming shots. One struck the left side of the paladin’s armour, the round failing to penetrate, hitting it at an odd angle. A paper doll appeared, showing there was a slight amount of damage to that armour plate. It seemed the powerful machine wasn’t invincible.
More shots rang out, this time from behind Xander. His comrades had decided the demonstration was over, advancing with their weapons raised. They were firing on the tanks, now disorganised by losing half their number, leaving Xander’s formidable weapons to deal with the remaining QTs.