by J. N. Chaney
“Doc, can you get the lights on?” I asked.
“Almost have them,” she muttered, fiddling on her data pad.
We waited in tense silence for her to complete the task, her furious tapping on the pad the only noise for the next few minutes. When the lights flicked to life, I asked for another scan.
“Still nothing,” Dressler confirmed.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I warned the group. Casting a final look over them, I was satisfied to see that each of my people looked ready for a fight.
I ducked into the room and followed the inside wall. My eyes tracked immediately to the shiny metal figures lined up in the middle of the chamber. Even though I knew they were there, it gave me pause to see them in the light. They were organized in a neat grid pattern, like a battalion of silver soldiers, each standing at least double my height.
“These aren’t statues,” one man announced. “They look more like mobile armor.”
I glanced at him.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I’m Sergeant Miller,” he said.
I didn’t know what the hell mobile armor was, but judging from the Union grunt’s familiarity, it was most likely something military related. They looked more like robots to me, but what the hell did I know. My main concern was the second level landing I’d just noticed. “We’ll worry about what they are in a minute. In the meantime, Miller, you and Abigail run a sweep through them while the rest of us clear the room,” I ordered. “Two teams take the stairs and go up top.”
They both peeled off from the wall and converged on the robots, mobile armor suits, or whatever the hell they were. Trusting that they had each other’s back, I continued around the room’s perimeter. I estimated the entire space to be about half the size of the hangar.
I kept going until everyone checked in. When the room had been deemed Celestial-free, I called Dressler over to me.
The doctor hurried across the room, dragging her gaze away from the shiny figures as she passed. “What is it, Captain?” she asked curtly, clearly wanting to investigate them instead.
“Do you think they’re still here?” I asked.
Dressler shook her head. “I don’t think so. If they were, they would have attacked by now.”
“Don’t be so sure. We brought a lot of backup. Maybe whoever was here knew they couldn’t beat us and phased out,” I suggested.
“It’s also possible that they knew we were coming. As you likely noticed when we were in that Celestial’s chamber, there are still plenty of camera feeds we don’t know about. There’s also a chance I tripped something when I activated the door. Whatever happened, no one is here now.”
I looked around the room at the various pieces of so-called power armor. Whatever these were, they were something new. Another piece of the Celestial puzzle.
Dressler cracked a smile. “What do you want me to do?”
I considered that for a moment. “Maybe you can try to find out what they were working on,” I suggested. “Maybe it will give us some clue as to what they were doing here and what those are. Shit, maybe you can figure out how to get them working.”
Dressler followed my gaze to the motionless silver figures. “I was thinking the same.”
Leaving her to it, I walked off to find Abigail and Miller. Most everyone stuck with their squad mates, but I saw a few matchups made up of opposing uniform insignias. I couldn’t say if that meant anything, but I’d take it as a good sign. As a Renegade, I’d lived a self-imposed solitary life and sought out company on my own terms. It had taken an act of fate to put Abigail and Lex in my path, changing my path to an entirely new and unforeseeable direction. Our experiences brought us all closer together. I hoped that in some way, the bonds forged here among the alliance soldiers might be similar. There was an equal chance that any friendships or comradery they formed would be tossed aside when orders came down from their respective superiors to shoot their newfound allies. That was a shame to think of, that someone could be friends one minute and enemies out to kill each other the next. But such was the way of politics. They cared more for territories than people, no matter the cost to the latter.
I saw Abigail first, her beautiful face turned up in study of one of the figures. Now that I had a moment, I stopped to get a better look. It reminded me of a fancy exosuit with all the perfect symmetry and mirrored coating. The facemask was featureless, a flat plate that gave no indication of where its eyes were. The rest of the helmet gave the appearance of a fin that pointed straight upward as the head tipped down in a permanent nod. Visible hydraulics at the knees and ankles indicated power, and lots of it. Miller had mentioned that they looked like mobile armor, I mused.
Done with my examination, I crossed the last few meters to where he and Abigail stood. They were engrossed in their discussion and neither had apparently seen me stop. “Did either of you learn anything?” I asked upon reaching them.
Abigail shook her head. “They’re completely shut down. We can’t even find a way to open them, let alone a power source.”
I waved that aside. “Carl said Tartarus is used for storage. Maybe these are so old, the batteries lost their juice. We’ve never seen them and they sure as hell don’t look like the Berserkers or Scouts.”
She looked skeptical. “Perhaps, but Titan was built by the Eternals over two thousand years ago, yet it still functioned well enough to get around, even with that drained tritium core. If the Celestials are even more advanced than the original Eternals were, there’s a chance that they would have built something even more efficient.”
“That’s true,” I conceded. “Miller, explain to me what a mobile armor is. An exosuit with hydraulic assist?”
“Among other things,” he said. “They’re amped-up versions of the exosuits with additional combat-level armor, advanced radiation shielding, artillery attachments, jump rigs, and just about anything else you’d want in a fight. The downside is that they’re slow. Too slow, in fact, which is why they were discontinued over forty years ago.”
“A shame they didn’t try to refine them,” I said. It seemed to me that they would’ve come in handy against something like the Berserkers, large as they were. I decided to table that and ask Rackham about it later. “Is that what you think these are?” I gestured at the nearest gleaming suit.
Miller lifted his hands. “I’m not sure. It has the same sort of design, like the hydraulics, but everything else looks too different. From a glance, I thought they might be similar, but now I don’t know.”
Abigail pointed at the torso and shook her head. “Something has been bothering me about the size and shape. It looks too well formed to hold a body. Even the Scout that attacked Verdun wouldn’t fit inside. Look at the joints — they’re comprised entirely of metal hinges and the hydraulic systems. Where would the limbs go?”
After a closer inspection, I realized she was right. “Good call,” I muttered. Even a human like me wouldn’t be able to wear it.
“Maybe it could adjust to the wearer,” Miller guessed.
“No, I don’t think so,” I disagreed. “It could be an autonomous robot or controlled via remote.”
“Neither option sounds appealing,” said Abigail with a grimace.
I jerked a thumb in the direction of Dr. Dressler. “Doc’s trying to access the system now. She should be able to get us more information soon.”
“Maybe Sigmond can help her,” suggested Abigail.
“He’s got his hands full with Carl,” I countered.
I wasn’t worried that the Cognitive couldn’t handle the extra work, but I needed his full attention on the Celestial. With Athena gone these past few weeks, her responsibilities had largely fallen to Sigmond. Gaia could only do so much, and only on Earth. Between drone production, exploring Tartarus, and managing what systems of Titan remained, it was a wonder Sigmond hadn’t reached his limit. Cognitive or not, everybody had their limits. Much as it pained me to consider, Athena might be lost to us forever. If that was the case, Sigmond would n
eed protecting. If anything happened to him, we might not survive the coming war.
13
I stepped out of the chamber to get updates from the other teams. Octavia didn’t answer, which I figured meant they were still working on getting in their room. My pad beeped with an incoming message that confirmed my suspicions.
Her curtly worded transmission explained that Major Sanchez would not allow his door man to quit, citing that would be failure. He had turned down Octavia’s offer of help, even after Davon tried to convince him otherwise. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her predicament. It had to be killing her that the Sarkonian would rather waste time than admit defeat to a door.
I tried Rackham next. I bypassed Freddie because the younger man tended to babble and I didn’t feel like navigating his anxiety right now. The lieutenant’s face filled the screen of my data pad when he answered via holo. “Hughes, how did it go?”
“No issues on our end,” I said, then told him everything we’d found out.
“Let’s hope Dr. Dressler can learn how to work the damn things,” Rackham said. “The last thing we need is a Celestial hunting us down with a robotic power suit or armor.”
“No argument here. What did your team find?” I asked, curious as to why he seemed so nonchalant.
“Still working on it,” he admitted. “We’re inside, but I don’t know what in the galaxy I’m looking at.”
The feed flipped so that I wasn’t looking at his face anymore. Rackham bobbled the data pad a little while he tried to focus the picture. It finally smoothed out and I got a clear view of the room he was in. It was about the same size as my chamber, but not as well lit. “Are those pillars?” I asked, noting the metal columns that dominated the room.
“Not pillars in the way you might think. They’re tubes.”
I brought the pad closer to my face to get a better look, but I couldn’t see what he meant. “More tubes? It’s like this place is built on them.”
“Hold on, I’ll show you,” Rackham said. The feed jostled some more when he started walking and I had to look away because it screwed with my eyes. If I looked on much more, I would be wobbly with nausea and dizziness.
The feed went still again as Rackham came to a stop in front of something that glowed a dull yellow. It looked like glass that had been colored for privacy, a dark shadow standing behind it. I almost asked the lieutenant who it was until the shadow moved. My breath caught in my lungs as I stared at the figure.
Whatever it was, it appeared to be floating.
As it moved closer to the barrier, the features became more pronounced, and I finally realized that I was looking at another Celestial.
The white skin and hairless body gave it away, but it looked different. The skull was elongated and misshapen, its arms like thin and fragile sticks, and the torso was flat and wide. The tube bubbled, circulating the water, and moved the body out of the feed’s immediate view. “Is it alive?” I asked, fighting the disgust I felt upon looking at the creature.
Rackham sounded uncertain. “I don’t think so. Nothing to indicate it’s aware of us. I was half worried it might open its eyes, but I’ve yet to see it react to anything.”
“It’s too dark to see much. Are you in a lab?” I thought I had seen the glow of consoles in the background but couldn’t be certain.
The view switched back to Rackham. “I don’t know. I’m no scientist, but judging by the mess we found, whoever was here seems to have left in a hurry. Tables knocked over, even some broken glass, that kind of thing.”
He struggled against a yawn and lost, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle it, prompting me to check the time. It seemed we’d been going nonstop for damn near twenty hours.
“Sorry,” he said, fighting another one. “I’m flying on vapor.”
“No wonder you aren’t your usual plucky self,” I replied.
“It would appear, Captain Hughes, that you are in need of sleep as well,” he said in a mocking tone that lacked any bite.
I wanted to tell him that sleep was the last thing on my mind after the last three days, but he didn’t know what happened. If I told the lieutenant about the phasing incident, he would be honor bound to inform Vick and I wouldn’t let that happen. God only knew what Vick would do with that information. Probably stage an overthrow of my army and take charge of the phasing program.
“Yeah, maybe it’s time for us to call it a night,” I agreed. “Get the relief guards in so everyone can rest.”
“Good idea. I’m dead on my feet over here.” Rackham yawned again, this time not bothering to cover it up. “Say, Hughes, before you go. Did you ever hear from Sanchez?”
“No. Last I heard from Octavia, they hadn’t managed to get the door open yet,” I explained. “Seems they were having ‘technical difficulties’ or some such thing.”
Rackham’s eyes shifted from looking at the pad to checking his surroundings, then he smirked. “Typical. Let me guess, Major Sanchez wouldn’t let anyone help?”
It amused me the Lieutenant didn’t mind cracking jokes at the Sarkonian’s expense. Despite the strides made in recent weeks between our little trio of humanity, old habits died hard. I followed his lead and made sure none of my Empire friends were within earshot before responding. “Of course not. Next time he should stick to what they know. Have a tech watch Dressler or Octavia and copy the way they do it.”
We both had another chuckle over that and cut the transmission after agreeing to be back in eight hours. I would have preferred six, but that would have been pushing it. Exhausted people made mistakes. Mistakes in a place like this could cost a life.
“Dressler!” I yelled across the room and waved an arm, but she ignored me. “Doc. It’s time to shut it down or let it run in the background. You need to sleep.”
She grunted noncommittedly.
I looked heavenward and asked the nonexistent gods to save me from this stubborn woman. “Dressler,” I said sharply, clapping my hands to get her attention.
She flinched at the sound. “Yes, I heard you,” she said. “I’ll pack my things and return in the morning.”
Another team arrived soon to replace us, this one led by Davon. I expected the following morning to bring new vigor and, with any luck, new insight into what exactly was going on.
* * *
I woke early the next morning, still off my usual schedule, if you could call it that. Abigail’s bare form lay next to me, tucked into the crook of my arm, half out of the covers. I’d instructed Junior to set the lighting in my quarters at 15 percent whenever I woke. That way, I didn’t trip over my boots and break my neck in the dark. An added side benefit was that it mimicked daybreak and illuminated my woman in a gentle glow. She looked so inviting that I didn’t want to leave the bed. I tried not to think about starting the day, the tasks we had ahead.
Both of us had been too tired to do more than strip and climb into the lake of a bed. A glance at the clock said we had some time before we had to head out. Just enough, by my estimation. I turned a little and wrapped my arms around Abigail, pulling her close until I could lay a gentle kiss on her neck.
She woke slowly, twisting to face me. Her lips found mine and she skimmed her fingertips down my shoulders and chest, leaving the bare skin tingling in their wake. I shifted to get some leverage—
“Good morning, sir,” Junior called out cheerfully. “Please excuse the interruption.”
“About that, why are you interrupting, Junior?” I snapped.
“So very glad you asked, sir. My predecessor, Sigmond, informed me that you require coffee in the morning. I apologize, you woke before it finished brewing.”
Beside me, Abigail giggled.
“It’s not funny, Abby,” I grumbled.
“It is,” she said, rolling off the bed. “Remember when Siggy did the same thing on our way to meet Shaw that first time?”
“Yeah, I remember,” I said darkly.
“Like father, like son,” Abigail quipped, sauntering to
the shower room.
“Sounds like the blind leading the blind, you ask me.”
“Oh dear,” fussed the AI. “I’ve displeased you. I shall endeavor to do better, Captain Hughes. Perhaps Sigmond can give me more direction.”
He sounded so contrite that I couldn’t stay mad. “It’s fine, Junior. But, later, you and I are going to have a long conversation on waking protocols.”
“Of course, sir. I look forward to it.”
The patter of water landing on the shower floor told me that my plans had been derailed by the not so smooth AI. Frustrated, I resigned myself to a cold shower, when Abigail poked her head out and crooked a finger at me.
Or maybe not.
* * *
“How long until Carl is ready?” snapped Dressler.
Because my morning had gone so well, I felt generous and tapped a finger to my comm. “Yo, Siggy.”
The Cognitive replied immediately. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Dr. Dressler here would like to know how much longer you and Carl will be.” I shot her a cheeky grin and waggled my eyebrows at her. “Apparently, she requires his assistance.”
There was a slight pause and I thought the transmission had been cut, then Sigmond answered. “It is impossible to be accurate at this time. Perhaps within a few hours, but that is subject to change. The Celestials who did this caused significantly more problems than we first thought,” he explained.
“Okay, Siggy. Keep me updated.”
“Of course, sir,” he answered.
“Sorry, Doc. Siggy says a few hours, likely longer.”
Dressler sat down heavily and propped a fist under her chin in frustration.
I called Rackham next. He appeared on the nearby holo within a few seconds. “How many of those tubes do you have open?” I asked without greeting him.
“Still just the one. In all honesty, it’s proving more difficult than we thought.” The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. “Might have to switch tactics and get out the incendiaries.”