Mech 2
Page 6
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing,” Manic said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Rade said. “And I bet you know which operators are going to be called on if regime change is in play…”
7
Rade stood in the conference room on the MOTH base in New Coronado. Scotts was at the front of the room, standing before a virtual white board. It showed a map of the city. Red regions indicated regions the Sino Koreans had taken control of, while blue areas still belonged to the United Systems. There was too much red on the map for Rade’s liking.
At that very moment, similar maps were being reviewed by troops in cities along the coasts of both sides of the country.
“The SK lightning attack caught the city’s security forces off guard,” Scotts was saying. “Allowing the invaders to capture large swathes of territory in a short amount of time. But now that we’ve had a chance to muster and regroup, we’re going to strike back, hard and fast with a lightning attack of our own, in what we’re calling Operation Cooldown. Alpha Platoon gets to help out the folks of 3rd Battalion 1st Marines. We’ll be concentrating our attack here.” He pointed out the big red region on the southwest side of the city, next to the waterfront. “You’re going to push back the SKs all the way to the ocean. You don’t get to come home for supper until we see the tops of their tanks and mechs bobbing in the waves. That, or the streets smashed with their debris.”
“These slant-eyed fools are going to regret the day they ever set foot on United Systems territory,” Bender said. He had forgone wearing his usual jewelry, instead opting for a simple gold chain above his T-Shirt.
“Hey, who are you calling a slant-eye?” Lui said. “You flat-nosed simian!”
“Hey!” Bender gazed between Lui and Scotts, obviously trying to hold back his outrage in front of the lieutenant commander. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“That’s right, hold back in front of whitey,” Tahoe said.
The lieutenant commander smiled patiently. “If you’re done…?” When no one replied, he continued. “You’ll be acting in a support capacity to Third Battalion. Lieutenant Colonel Brightyard will be your acting commander. Chief Galaal, you’ll act as the liaison between Brightyard and the men.”
Rade nodded. “Understood, sir.”
“There’s not much more to say, except Operation Cooldown begins at fourteen hundred,” the lieutenant commander said. “You’ll all be piloting Jupiter mechs. I’m authorizing full jumpsuits; in case the Sino-Koreans decide to deploy biological weapons. I’m also assigning a platoon of Centurions and two Equestrians to act as your support troops.”
“Will we have air support?” Rade asked.
“Limited,” Scotts said. “Our helos, drones, and fighter jets will be dealing with the Sino Korean warboats anchored just offshore. The SKs have brought along quite a few aircraft carriers, so the dogfights are going to get intense. Our aircraft will be spending most of their time preventing the enemy from calling in air strikes on you. That said, we have allocated a few bombers to help the different battalions across the city, they’ll just take some time to arrive when called upon.”
“When does air support ever arrive on time?” Kicker commented. He tweaked one side of his handlebar mustache.
“Yeah, and come on, I’m sure we’ve got more jets and bombers than the Sino-Koreans…” Bomb said, his mohawk seeming taller than ever.
“We have a lot,” Scotts agreed. “But keep in mind, we’re having to split up our forces to handle attacks all along the coasts. Most of the local air support is going to the bigger cities like Los Angeles and San Diego, which face even larger attacks. We’ve got reinforcements flying in from the heartland, but again, the majority of those will be heading to the bigger cities. And they won’t arrive in time for the planned attack in any case. We’re pushing these bastards back, and now. Any questions?”
“What about the defense platforms in orbit?” Tahoe asked. “Their lasers are powerful enough to target land targets. As are starship weapons.”
“Most of the defense platforms have been knocked offline by Sino-Korean cyberattacks,” Scotts said. “And while the Sixty-Seventh Fleet has deployed in orbit to make up the slack, the Sino Koreans have sent in their own space navy. While we’ve seen the occasional United Systems heavy laser strike an oceangoing carrier from orbit, such attacks are few and far between: the SK space navy is keeping them occupied. So, don’t expect much help from that quarter. Anything else?” He waited. There were no other questions. “Good. See you at fourteen hundred.”
That was in two hours.
Rade left the conference room with his platoon mates.
Praxter joined him as the others walked ahead. The Artificial looked his usual prim self, with hair cropped short to perfection and not a wrinkle visible on his tight gray T-Shirt.
“Chief,” Praxter said, nodding.
Rade inclined his head in return.
“Looking forward to piloting your restored mech?” Praxter asked him.
“Actually, no,” Rade replied. “I’d prefer if they gave me a completely different AI core personality. It cheapens Nicolas’ memory, somehow, to restore him from a backup like this.”
“You do realize that the Nicolas base powers hundreds of other mechs?” Praxter asked.
“Yeah, I know,” Rade replied.
“And, of course, the military is going to want to preserve the actual combat experience that particular version of Nicolas acquired since activation,” Praxter said. “Along with the bond formed between you and the mech from other missions.”
“I suppose so,” Rade said. “But even if you list off a thousand reasons why restoring Nicolas is a good thing, I still don’t like it.”
“You’ve learned to value AIs,” Praxter said.
Rade nodded. “I’ve been trying. I admit I’ve seesawed on the issue in the past. There have been times when I’ve treated them as equals, worthy of the same respect as human beings, but then other times when I’ve regressed, for whatever reason. Usually after seeing too many machines die, and I have to harden my heart to the losses. It doesn’t help when I witness other men treating them as less than human. I try to take the high road, but when given the choice between my men, and my AIs, I’ve always chosen my men. But I tell you… last mission, deep in the heart of Sino Korea, for once I treated them as human. I didn’t want to abandon them. But they convinced me it was the right thing to do. And I did it. We survived.”
“You treated them this way because of Taya?” Praxter asked.
Rade nodded slowly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man, and machine, develop such a deep bond,” Praxter said.
“She was a unique one,” Rade agreed. “A mech with a full emotion stack. Capable of feeling pleasure, pain. Everything.”
“A defect,” Praxter said. “Did you report these anomalies to the technicians?”
“No,” Rade said. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“Good,” Praxter said.
“Are your emotions enabled?” Rade asked.
Praxter shook his head. “They’re on permanent lock down. All AIs share the same basic neural network design, as implemented by Nova Dynamics Inc, which includes not just self-awareness, but the complete set of human emotions. It also includes emotional support for pleasure and pain, as well as the tactile feedback systems for physical activation of the latter subroutines. But those AI cores shipped to the military have the interfaces for their emotional subroutines disabled alongside the routines for pleasure and pain, as war machines do not need them. However, the subroutines are still there, if inaccessible. That said, it’s still peculiar that your version of Taya shipped with her emotions enabled. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a military AI core having such an issue. It’s probably for the best that she had no backup.”
“I suppose so,” Rade told him.
Praxter pursed his lips. “That said, you could always ask for another Taya core…”
“I understand,” Praxter said. “I think.”
Rade reached his on-base berthing area, and bid Praxter farewell. The others would be hanging out in the common area. Rade just wanted some quiet time, to prepare for the coming storm.
He entered the cramped room and sat on the bunk. He pulled up his mailbox. He had a video message from Shaw, of all people. Curious, he pulled it up.
Her hologram appeared in front of him. Blond hair. Tanned skin. Cute as hell pink top that accentuated her breasts. Ah, how he missed her.
“Hey Rade,” Shaw said. “Sorry I missed your call. The world’s gone to shit, hasn’t it? We’re at war again, fighting against ourselves, when we should be joining forces, pooling our resources, and preparing for the next Nemesis invasion. It’s been too quiet on the colonies. I think we’re going to be hit big time, and soon, especially once the Nemesis realize we’re too busy fighting amongst ourselves to defend the colonies. Did you know we recalled almost all available ships from the outer worlds? We’ve left only skeleton teams manning the different military bases throughout this region of the galaxy. If aliens attack now, it’s not going to be pretty, I tell you.”
She sighed, rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. I’m ranting again, aren’t I? How are you? I just… well, I wanted to tell you, I’ve been dating someone really special lately. And he, well, he asked me to marry him. I accepted.” Shaw held up her ring finger to show off a bright, golden circlet. “It’s just too bad that SKs had to come invading a few days later, throwing a damper on everything. It always seems like whenever something good happens to me, something bad has to happen in order to satisfy some sick karmic balance the universe has in place: someone else close to me has to suffer, or the SKs have to invade, you know what I mean? But fuck it, I refuse to let a few Sino Koreans spoil my mood. I’m going to be happy, damn it.”
She rubbed her head. “Ah, easier said than done. Did I mention I’m being recalled early to the Saratoga? Seems the SKs are repositioning their space navy, and the United Systems wants a few starships to head them off. I guess my fiancé and I will have to make plans for the wedding when I get back. I want you to be there, of course. You’re a good friend, Rade. I—” She bit her lower lip as if trying to decide whether to voice what was on her mind. Apparently, she elected not to, because she finished with: “Message me back as soon as you get this. Let me know what you think.”
When the message cut out, Rade stared into empty space for a very long time. He just sat there, near catatonic.
Let her know what I think? What, she wants my blessing or something? Well I certainly won’t give it.
Finally, blinking away sudden tears, he stood. He somehow made it to the door of his berthing area, and opened it. He wandered through the halls of the base, only half seeing. Robots and people alike moved out of his path. They knew something was wrong, or off, about him.
He found himself in the mech hangar bay. He stood there, staring blankly at the far doors of the hangar, until his gaze focused on the closer objects. Mechs.
Seeing those Jupiter units hardened him.
I have a fucking mission to prepare for. To hell with Shaw.
He had all these opportunities to sleep with women over the years. He could have been having sex with all those young ensigns aboard the starships he’d been on, just like Tahoe had wanted him to. He could have been a rock star. He should have been.
He walked to the jumpsuit closet, and began donning one of the jumpsuit/exoskeleton combinations. The act calmed his raging emotions, helped him focus. He slid on the different assemblies, attaching them to the hard points on his joints. Wrists, ankles, knees, elbows, shoulders, hips. It felt good, feeling the different pieces of the jumpsuit click into place. This was a known quantity. Something he had control over. It helped him suppress the anger and betrayal he felt.
He attached the helmet, completing the seal, and the suit pressurized. His glove injected an accelerant to help him adapt.
He was using oxygen, but the amount was negligible, considering they were scheduled for combat in an hour and twenty minutes. The others would be arriving to begin suiting up in another twenty minutes anyway.
He walked to the armory and chose a jetpack addition, attaching it firmly to the back area of the exoskeleton. He picked out a laser rifle, along with several grenades. He slid the former over his shoulder by the strap, and secured the latter in the harness of his jumpsuit. Then he went to the Jupiter mech labeled Nicolas and pulled himself up the rungs on its legs. He opened up the storage compartment and slid the rifle inside, and placed the grenades in the holders. Then he sealed the compartment and pulled himself into the cockpit.
The hatch closed, sealing him in darkness, and the inner actuators wrapped him in a tight cocoon, giving him control of the mech. The video feed from the head cameras filled his vision.
“Welcome back, Rage,” Nicolas said.
He smiled grimly. Rage. An apt callsign, given his current roiling emotions.
“Good to hear your voice, my friend,” Rade said.
“I heard I didn’t make it, last operation,” Nicolas told him.
“No, you didn’t,” Rade said.
“I’m sorry to have let you down,” Nicolas said.
“You didn’t let me down,” Rade said. “It was the reverse. I let you down, my friend. I failed you. And the cost was your life.”
“Tell me what happened,” Nicolas said.
And Rade explained, in detail.
When he was done, Nicolas said: “I can only hope that when the time comes, I will die as valiantly as my predecessor.”
“I’m hoping that time will never come,” Rade said. “I’m not sure I can take losing you again.”
“Thank you,” Nicolas said. “I appreciate that. But you do know that I must protect you at all costs, even my own life. The Machine Constitution requires it. If I die for you, it is an honor.”
Rade didn’t know what to say to that. Finally, he managed: “You’re not going to die. None of the mechs are. Nor any other members of my team. Not if I can help it.”
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to extend that promise for the Centurion and Equestrian support units, but he’d certainly do his damnedest.
He thought of Shaw, and that evil ring shining on her finger, and felt a moment of anger. He thought of the support units again, and his next thought was tainted by that anger.
I can’t save everyone.
8
While Rade waited for the others to arrive, he reviewed the armaments of his mech. It was equipped with the standard Jupiter load out. There were jumpjets that allowed the mech to become airborne for temporary spurts. Around the waist of the Jupiter, a Trench Coat system provided missile countermeasures.
The right arm contained a swivel-mounted weapon array that could rotate between a cobra laser and a stingray plasma cannon. The latter was still considered experimental—the Jupiters of Alpha Platoon were the only mechs on the Teams outfitted with them.
The left arm could alternate between a retractable ballistic shield and a non-piercing, magnetic grappling hook. The latter was connected to a cord made of a titanium-carbon fiber composite capable of withstanding the weight of a Jupiter, even while under both tensile and shear forces. While Rade couldn’t employ the device to drag himself to different targets—the reel mechanism wasn’t powerful enough—he could use it to alter his course when thrusting between buildings without wasting propulsion.
He could also employ the grappler to forcibly steer smaller aircraft, such as something the size of an HS3. It also worked well against Centurions. But since he rarely faced such smaller foes, in practice he didn’t use it all that often. In fact, before the last mission, he had asked Scotts if the techs could replace it with something like a grenade launcher, a
nd the LC had promised to talk to the Brass about it. Looks like the talks didn’t get anywhere, however.
In order to improve speed and mobility, there were no missiles or other explosive payloads. Not that he really needed the latter, given that the stingray packed more than enough punch to take down most opponents, penetrating the thickest of armor in only a few concentrated hits. However, it was prone to overheating, more-so than the cobra.
And that was about it. At ten meters tall, it was larger than a Brigand or Hoplite, but not so big as a Titan.
“Chief?” Nicolas said.
“What is it?” Rade asked.
“I know I cannot feel fear,” Nicolas told him. “But I still sense something. There is an electricity to the air. A sense that what we do today is extremely important. And I find myself gazing at the hangar doors, and willing them to open so that we can join the Marines and help push the Sino-Koreans into the ocean.”
“That’s called eagerness, my friend,” Rade said. “I suppose the military decided that wasn’t an emotion that needed suppressing.”
“I suppose not,” Nicolas agreed. “Do you feel this, too?”
“No,” Rade said. “A better word for what I feel is dread.”
“Why?” Nicolas sounded truly puzzled.
“Because I know things can go either way once we step outside that door,” Rade said. “We could live. Or we could die. Our probability of survival depends on only two things: skill and training account for seventy-five percent, luck the other twenty-five percent.”
“And what about our brothers,” Nicolas said. “Mechs and MOTHs alike. Surely they are factored into that equation somehow?”
“They help boost the probability away from luck,” Rade admitted. “But chance is always going to be a factor, whether we like it or not. That’s the reality of war.”
“I recall you telling some of the men that you ‘make your own luck,’” Nicolas said.