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The Suit by Robert E. Hampson
“So, what are you going to do for your Maker Merit Badge?” Orlin asked, digging through the pile of discarded mech components. He’d told his companions all about his plans to build his own mech, ‘just like Harmon Tomeral’ and was now trying to figure out how much competition he was going to have from the other members of his patrol. Even though Tomeral had long left the Tretra system, he was still a hero, particularly on Joth, where he’d grown up under circumstances much like Orlin and his friends had.
“I don’t know,” replied Pettekil—Pete to his friends—flipping his tail back and forth with nervous energy. “I think everyone wants to copy him and build mechs. I want to do something different.” He turned back to his desultory sorting through burnt motivators, exhausted power cells, and damaged sensors. “There’s nothing of interest in this junk pile.”
“We want to build—” started Jerry.
“—a fighter!” finished Jinx. The twins usually finished each other’s sentences. They often talked about becoming fighter pilots because they assumed their ability to coordinate their actions would provide an advantage in combat.
“Of course you do,” said Orlin with a sigh of resignation. “It’s all you two ever talk about.”
“Hey, J” called Jerry.
“Yeah, J—” replied Jinx.
“There’s a thruster—”
“—over here.”
“Wow, two—”
“—at a time? How lucky—”
“—is that?” completed Jinx
“Can you two please stop that?” asked Pete. “Do you know how annoying that is? Especially when the rest of us haven’t found jack…uh…diddly.”
“Just because—”
“—you can’t look with four eyes—”
“—doesn’t mean we can’t!”
The irony was that ‘Pete,’an anteater-like Caldivar, had three eyes, while the human twins, and even Orlin, a lizard-like Prithmar, had only two apiece. Joth was home to many races, and it was not uncommon for them to mix in both social and occupational settings. The four boys were all in the same troop, and even the same patrol—the Crockables—named for a leathery-winged scavenger bird common to the vast deserts of Joth.
“You have one more eye than I have, so I wouldn’t call that much of an advantage…” he started, but was interrupted by Orlin.
“A-HA! Got another knee joint, here. Now I just need a couple of hip joints and the lower limbs are set.”
“You guys have all the luck,” Pete grumped.
* * *
“Alright guys. The troop as a whole is going to be working on the Maker Merit Badge this month. Since you’re all on school break for the next three weeks, you should be able to spend most of the time you need during that time period. Remember, merit badge rules say that you can work individually or in teams up to the size of a patrol, however, to earn the badge, your teammates must agree that you contributed significantly to the overall project. I’ve arranged for you to have access to the Farnog Corp printers, and the Rinto Scrap Yard will let you pick through the unsorted salvage. The rest of it is up to you. Build it, program it, salvage it. Just make sure it is a functioning device of value to Joth society, because we’ll be entering them in the Joth Maker Faire next month.”
Troopmaster Zentto was Prithmar, like about one-third of the kids in the troop. Another third were human, and the remainder was a mix of Caldivar, Yalteen, Pikith and even a couple of Leethog. Xenophobia was rare on Joth given the number of different races present on the desert-like world. The variety also made the Crockables’ troop quite successful in the various planetwide youth competitions like the Maker Faire. Residents of Joth were always inventive and self-reliant, but the popularity of build-it-yourself projects and competitions had really taken off after Joth’s favorite son, Harmon Tomeral, had won the Top Fleet Marine competition. The fact that Tomeral ended up saving the entire system from the Squilla hadn’t hurt either. Inventive, unorthodox, self-reliant, heroic; Tomeral was an example to all. Thanks to his example, every young resident of Joth wanted to be the next to make their mark on the universe.
The only problem was that Pete still didn’t know what he was making for the competition. Orlin had most of an exoskeleton together and was starting to fashion armor plates. Even if it wasn’t a full mecha, he’d already proven its worth by using its augmented strength to improve the searches in the salvage yard. Jerry and Jinx had affixed their thrusters and motors to a hover frame the quartet used to transport their finds back to the workspace the troop had arranged for their members to finish projects. The other three were well on their way to completing the merit badge and even had a chance of scoring well at the Maker Faire. Pete was the only one without a project of his own.
Of course, he could always work with his patrol-mates on their projects. He was helping them with programming anyway, so there was no question that he was contributing significantly. It’s just that he wanted something of his own.
“Hey, what’s this—” started Jerry
“—it looks like armor—”
“—but soft—”
“—and no joints,” ended Jinx.
The device in question did look vaguely like something a bipedal could wear. There were four tubes roughly the size and shape of humanoid arms and legs. There was also a much larger clamshell that looked like it would fit the torso of one of the seven-toot-tall Yalteen. It was much too large for a human, let alone a five-foot Caldivar. There didn’t seem to be anything joining the separate pieces into a suit or armor, although there were some damaged tubes that might have connected the various pieces at one time. There was also no evidence of a helmet or joint protection.
“If it’s a mecha, it’s missing anything practical,” observed Orlin. “I suppose it might be some sort of an add-on, like ablative armor.”
“Not armor—”
“—too soft.” Jinx held up one of the tubes. It might have been a sleeve, with a semi-flexible elbow joint, but Pete agreed, it was much too soft. The material was almost a fabric; it seemed as if the only reason it even held its shape was more tubing inside.
“Could it be some sort of reactive material that can be programmed to be rigid in one state and flexible in another?” Orlin had picked up another of the sleeves. This one bore a similarity to a leg, with a large diameter opening at one end, a narrow opening at the other, and once again, a slight flex where a knee joint might be located.
“If that’s the case—”
“—where are the shoulders—”
“—and hips?”
“You would think—”
“—that it would be important—”
“—to protect them, too!”
“If it’s programmable, there should be a controller. Look around for anything that looks like a processor that has those tubes coming out of it. We’ll take it back with us, and I’ll hook it up and see what it does. If we can figure it out, maybe Orlin can add it to his exoskeleton.” Pete might not have a project of his own, but if he could figure out programmable armor for Orlin’s mecha, that would be a worthwhile contribution. “Jinx, Jer, help me put this on the H-frame.”
“Here is a box—”
“—the same shape—”
“—as the discoloration—”
“—on the ‘chest.’”
Sure enough, the object appeared to be some sort of computer processor and was exactly the same size and shape as a corresponding discolored place on the front of the clamshell. It even had indications of wiring connectors in locations that lined up between the two pieces. It didn’t make sense to put a controller right on the front of the armor where it would be the first thing hit. Maybe there was more to this “armor” than met the eye. Was there a reason why the builders weren’t worried about the exposed control panel? Was it some form of energy shield?
Pete’s imagination began to race. Maybe he wouldn’t have to treat thi
s as simply a part of Orlin’s mecha. Maybe he could make this one his own.
* * *
The main workshop was noisy. Orlin alternated between heating metal plates in an electroforge and hammering them on an archaic iron anvil to make hardened plates that would cover key components of his mecha. He’d decided to proceed with hip, shoulder, and neck armor while Pete tried to figure out the mysterious components they’d pulled out of the salvage yard. Jerry and Jinx were arguing in their strange style while they remounted the hover thrusters with vectored nozzles to transition from vertical lift to forward thrust.
Meanwhile, Pete worked in the quieter clean room to one side of the workshop, cleaning and rebuilding the wiring connections between the controller, torso, and limbs of the strange armor. The most unusual feature of the device was that the tubing appeared to be able to fill with some form of fluid to form a rigid frame. Unfortunately, he hadn’t figured out if there was a way to make the fabric become less flexible.
Perhaps it had something to do with what fluid was pumped into the tubes? Maybe this wasn’t armor. Was it a cooling system? If so, why did it need the fabric covering?
So far, he’d only worked with one of the suit’s limbs, experimenting with providing electrical current, then air pressure to the tubing, then fluid pressure in the form of water, hydraulic oil, and liquid refrigerant. None of them seemed to make a difference, but he hadn’t tried hooking up the complete system yet.
Still, before doing that, he needed to figure out what fluid the suit used. There was one long piece of tubing that had been attached to the clamshell at shoulder height, if there was still some trace in there, perhaps he could have someone analyze it.
* * *
“This is unusual; you don’t see these molecules very often. Lots of fluorine and carbon, usually called a ‘perfluorocarbon.’” Pete’s cousin Beretekil showed him the diagram on the slate of a number of carbon molecules bonded to fluoride molecules. Beretekil was a graduate student in Materials Engineering at the new branch of the Tretrayon Academy that had opened on Joth in the last few years. It didn’t completely eliminate the history of inferior treatment of Joth and its citizens by the system capital, but it was a start.
“Wasn’t that used in refrigeration units? So this is some kind of cooling suit.” Pete picked up the tubing he’d asked his older cousin to analyze for him.
“Not really. Refrigerants usually contained chlorine as well. Chlorofluorocarbons were banned millennia ago, and frankly, there’s better ways to cool than letting a liquid evaporate, absorbing heat, then compressing it back into a liquid and venting the heat somewhere else. No, there were several other uses as well, such as fire suppressants and electrical insulation. If it was pumped through your suit, perhaps it was worn by shipboard damage control. It would probably be fireproof and shockproof.” Bret tapped on his slate some more. “Oh, this is interesting.” He showed Pete a diagram of a molecule that looked like two six-sided rings that shared a side. “Perfluorodecalin. Ten carbons, eighteen fluorines. There were some attempts on Earth at using it for a blood substitute.”
“For humans, then. That won’t help me much.”
“Actually, it helps carry oxygen, so most races with closed circulatory systems can use it.” Bret handed the slate over to Pete. “Show me those pictures you took again.”
Pete placed his slate on top of his cousin’s and initiated the transfer, then pocketed his and handed Bret’s slate back to him. “That’s what we’re calling the torso unit. It looks like it would fit down over a neck and then close at the sides.”
“Big, isn’t it? Not human sized. Not Caldivar and certainly not Prithmar. Yalteen?”
“Tall enough, but much bigger in the chest. More like the Withaloo who settled in Salvage.” Pete tapped the slate again. “These are the sleeves. Near as I can tell, two fluid tubes and a wiring harness are supposed to connect each one to the torso unit. There’s also four wiring connectors—one at each corner—connecting the control unit to the torso. Those were intact, and I have just about gotten them clean enough to reattach.”
“Wait, how much of this have you done on your own? You’re still in Upper School, right?”
“Actually, Jerry and Jinx’s father helped a bit with the electrical. You know we do this for fun in the Troop, right?”
“I remember you took apart my watch when you were just a pup. I never did get it to synch back up with my slate after that.”
“Um. I’ve built watches since then, Bret. From a kit, true, but they work.”
“Huh. Think you can do something with this one, then?” Bret extended a claw and popped the catch on a black band he wore around one leathery wrist. “It hasn’t worked right since I started working in this lab.”
Pete took the watch and held it up to look closely with his lower left eye, the one he usually used for fine detail. “You know this has been etched, right? Looks like acid of some sort.”
“Oh, damn. That’s what it was. I’m still catching grief from the professor about that spill. Okay, never mind.” He held out a paw to take the watch back, but Pete kept it just out of reach.
“Actually, it’s fixable. I can open it up, clean the molys, lay down new traces, and print a new case for it. I owe you for doing this, at least.” He nodded toward the bench-top analyzer Bret had used to analyze the residual fluid in the tubing.
“Hey, thanks, Cuz. This? This was no trouble, and I appreciate the watch. Good luck figuring out what your suit does.”
* * *
“Pete—”
“—did you notice—”
“—these ports—”
“—on the back?”
Jerry and Jinx had the torso of Pete’s “firefighter suit” in a cabinet where it could be sprayed with a fine abrasive to remove contaminants and polish metallic surfaces. The twins pointed to a line of small fittings along each side of the back plate. They had previously been covered in a hard crust of some sort of resinous material. The boys had offered to run the suit through the cleaning chamber once they finished cleaning their thruster nozzles. They must have finished early, because the suit fittings positively shone with a blue-green glimmer in the artificial lighting of the shop.
“You guys are done with the nozzles?”
“Well actually—”
“—one of them was so worn—”
“—the abrasive cut a hole—”
“—right through the chamber wall—”
“—we need to go—”
“—back and find a new one—”
“—so we decided to—”
“—help you!”
Pete pulled out a monocle magnifier and held it up to his left-low eye to inspect the ports. At least two on each side looked like fluid or gas ports, and the area surrounding those looked exactly like the quick connect system used for the fuel containers on Orlin’s mecha. Several other ports looked like they would have held some sort of fixture, but there was no opening in the socket to suggest either electrical or physical connection with the device.
He realized the twins had continued talking to him as he was lost in inspecting the newly revealed features of his project.
“—so we’re headed back—”
“—and we rigged—”
“—a scanner—”
“—to identify—”
“—the same components—”
“—as your suit.”
Jinx or Jerry—it was hard to tell since they were both covered in the powdered abrasive from the cleaning station—held out a device with a paw-grip and small screen. Material scanners were pretty common on Joth. They were used for everything from finding buried minerals to identifying sophont remains. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know where the human twins had gotten the device, but he wasn’t going to turn it down.
They wouldn’t have the hover sled this time, not with a missing thruster, and besides it was being refitted into something much more like the fighter profile Jerry and Jinx h
ad proposed for their merit badge. Instead, they’d talked their big sister, Jenny, into flying them over to the Rinto yard in her flitter. Pete supposed that having siblings whose names all started with “J” must be one of those family identification things, such as the “-ekil” part of his own name. He didn’t really understand human naming, even though he’d grown up in the mixed-race society of Joth. Most sophonts went with whatever name their human friends called them, especially since humans were known for shortening names.
At least they wouldn’t have to worry about Jerry and Jinx’s sister sticking around to take them home from the scrap yard. The boys said she was sweet on the human operating the big Grappler scrap mover at Rinto’s. The problem would be convincing her to leave when they were done.
“Okay, Jerx, go have fun. I’ll be talking to Roland,” Jenny had said when they arrived at the scrap yard. The twins immediately ran off to hunt for thrusters in a large pile of material that was new since the last time they’d visited, leaving Pete to go to the sector where they’d found the “firefighter suit.” When he got there, he found only a patch of bare ground and a few scraps of metal. He went to find Roland and earned a dirty look from Jenny in the process.
“Sorry, Pete, but that pile’s been sorted. Boss said you can pick through all of the unsorted scrap, but once it’s been sorted, it’s in the inventory.” He looked apologetic, and he probably was. He’d actually helped them load up their salvage on the first couple of trips, before the twins had assembled the hover frame.
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