by Isaac Hooke
“You’re welcome,” he replied distractedly. He was keeping an eye on his different external camera feeds, especially the rear.
“But you know they’ll track you by your footprints, right?” Shaw said.
“Actually, I’m following the same path the SKs used to travel here,” Rade said. “In case you didn’t notice.”
“Oh, I didn’t,” Shaw said.
He was leaping from footprint to footprint; hopefully, that would be enough to conceal the fact he’d retreated this way.
He paused at different points as he ran and noted that the sounds of pursuit—the thudding of metal feet, the breaking of branches—was successively growing softer, until he could no longer hear the pursuing mechs at all. He slowed his pace then, so as not to make too much noise himself, and turned away from the trampled path he followed. He was getting close to the spot where her pod had crashed, and he didn’t want to run into any SK retrieval teams that might have been sent to salvage the escape vehicle.
“Well, that was interesting,” Shaw said after a time. “So, what’s the plan now? We’re going to trudge all the way back to the border with Mongolia?”
“That’s the working plan, yes,” Rade said. “Unless you have a better one.”
“Nope,” Shaw replied.
19
Rade continued marching north through the jungle. He moved at a moderate pace—not so fast as to produce noise that would awaken the entire forest, but not so slow that he was completely quiet, either. It was a suitable compromise, he thought, between speed and stealth. Because of the slower speed, he was also able to avoid trampling much of the undergrowth, and he took care to break as few branches as possible. Still, considering how big and heavy his mech was, he knew that just about anyone could follow the trail, once it was identified, which was why he was reluctant to move any slower.
He and Shaw hadn’t said a word since the last exchange.
Shaw.
He could hardly believe she was with him. He hadn’t seen her in so long, and he had dreamed of their paths one day crossing yet again so that they could see each other in person rather than through video messages. He had never envisioned that meeting happening like this: the two of them, trapped behind enemy lines, with no one else around to save them but themselves.
He couldn’t help the sudden swell of hope he felt that maybe, just maybe, they might hook up while alone out here.
He suppressed a laugh. Yeah. Hook up now? In the heart of SK territory? Right.
Plus, he reminded himself she was engaged now. In love with another man. She was never the type to sleep around. At least, he didn’t think she was.
“You know how far it is to the border, right?” Shaw asked via his Implant, interrupted his meandering thoughts. Her avatar appeared in the lower right of his display, allowing him to gaze at that face he had grown to love.
No, I don’t love her anymore.
“It’s far,” Rade agreed. “I’m not actually planning to march three hundred kilometers in a mech through hostile territory. I figured, we’ll come across some comm nodes at some point, in a town or village, and we can use them to send a message to our satellites in orbit.”
“Yeah, a message that will be intercepted by the SKs,” Shaw said. “Allowing them to hunt us down.”
“We’ll obviously have to relocate as soon as we broadcast,” Rade said. “We’ll just have to make sure we pick a reasonable location for our eventual extraction when we send the transmission.”
“You’re assuming the SKs won’t decrypt it,” Shaw commented.
“That’ll be hard, without the keys,” Rade said.
“You always have it all planned out, don’t you?” Shaw pressed.
Rade didn’t reply right away. “You always were more sarcastic in person, especially when talking about anything having to do with my rating. You’ve always been kinda pissed that I chose to be a MOTH.”
She didn’t answer.
“Well, at least you don’t call me a killer anymore,” Rade said. “Though I’m sure that’s what you think whenever my name pops into your head.”
“No,” Shaw said. “When your name pops into my head, I think of the good times we had. Not the bad. And you’re right: I am pissed. You could have chosen a rating that would have allowed us to stay together.”
“Oh really?” Rade said. “You mean through training? Because once we graduated, what are the chances we would be assigned to the same ship? Essentially zero.”
“You and Tahoe were assigned to the same Team…” Shaw said.
“That’s different,” Rade said. “The Teams are a whole lot smaller, making the chances a whole lot higher. But we never went into it expecting to be assigned together. We chose to be MOTHs because it was what we wanted to do with our lives. We’d found our calling.”
“Just as I found mine,” Shaw said.
“I know,” Rade said. “Why do we always end up rehashing the same topics? Neither of us was willing to drop out of the military, or change our careers, for the other.”
“Yes, exactly,” Shaw said. “If you really loved me, then you would have dropped out.”
“Yeah, and the same could be said of you,” Rade said.
She chuckled. “We’re two stubborn bastards, aren’t we?”
“Uh huh,” he said.
“Did you get my message about Romero?” she asked.
“Who?” he replied.
“Romero,” she pressed. “I wasn’t sure if you got it because I never received a reply. Of course, I guess having the Sino Koreans invade with the help of aliens could explain the delay…”
“Oh, Romero,” Rade said, thinking of the ring she wore on her finger. “So that’s his name.”
“Yes, the man I’m marrying,” Shaw said. “I can still hardly believe it. Everything happened so fast. Isn’t it great? I’m finally going to be married. I know you’re happy for me.”
“No,” he quipped, laughing slightly.
“Oh,” she said.
“I thought you weren’t the marrying type?” he said.
“People change,” Shaw told.
He forced a smile. “I was just kidding about not being happy for you. I am. It’s great. So, who is this guy anyway? Where did you meet him?”
“Well, he’s a civilian,” Shaw said. “A fireman, actually. I met him through Surinder.”
“Surinder?” Rade asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “It’s a virtual dating app.”
“Ah, never heard of it,” Rade said.
“You should try it,” she said.
“Don’t think so,” Rade said. “Virtual dating’s not my speed.”
Shaw shrugged. “Suit yourself. But a MOTH like yourself? You’d probably slay it.”
He didn’t answer.
“I mean, that’s what you do, right?” she said. “You never talk about having a girlfriend, so I always just assumed that you went out with your MOTH boys every weekend, and took home a different woman to sleep with.”
“I do go out with my brothers, yes,” Rade said. “But I try to avoid taking any women home, if I can help it. I try to be a good role model for the men. And I don’t need distractions. Plus, there aren’t as many women going out these days, either. At least none that interest me. Most women, and guys, too, stay home these days. It’s our culture… considering you can get everything you want delivered right to your house. Groceries, appliances, 3D printers, even the whole bar experience, courtesy of virtual reality. You name it, you can have it. No one even travels anymore. Why bother, when virtual experiences of exotic locations are so readily accessible? Who needs jet lag and queuing in line at airports when you can just pop on your aReal goggles for a quick trip to the Maldives, the Pyramids, and the Louvre, all in the same evening? Plus, apparently now you can get fiancés dropped off at your door as well, with this Surinder app of yours.”
“Well, it wasn’t quite like that, but I get what you’re saying,” she commented. “There’s some
thing to be said about meeting a man the traditional way, in person. My parents met through an app, and theirs before them. I thought when I met you, I was going to break that trend, but when things didn’t work out between us, I decided why not. I’m getting old, close to becoming a spinster, after all.”
“A spinster?” Rade said. “I thought with the advent of rejuvenetics, the word didn’t even exist anymore. You barely look a day over twenty, and I know you haven’t even touched rejuvenetics.”
“Not yet,” Shaw said. “Well, except for a few minor wrinkle reduction procedures, but those weren’t too invasive. But you better believe I will be using rejuvenetics extensively, when I start to show even more signs of aging.”
“I suppose I don’t blame you,” Rade said.
Their conversation fizzled out, which was probably for the best: it was distracting, and he wanted to concentrate on the march through the forest. He kept an eye on all approaches, via the multidirectional cameras mounted on his head. Nicolas was monitoring the feeds, too.
He avoided a patrol of smaller Centurion-style robots, along with Sino Korean HS3 equivalents. The latter spheres almost caught him by surprise, but fortunately they gave away their positions with LIDAR bursts. Nicolas alerted him to the bursts, and Rade promptly hid behind a large log, compressing his body into the mossy ground. The HS3s passed by, emitting their LIDAR, and thankfully ignored him—his shape would have been similar to the hundreds of other moss-covered rocks common in the area.
He continued marching well into the evening, and as darkness settled on the land, he decided to call a halt.
“Why are we stopping?” Shaw said. “I thought you MOTHs could operate at every hour with all that high-tech gear you travel with.”
“We can,” Rade agreed. “But it depends on whether or not we don’t mind giving away our positions. Switching to LIDAR would do just that, at least to any SK patrols or bases in the area.”
“What about night vision?” she asked.
“There isn’t enough light penetrating through the thick canopy overhead,” he answered. “For night vision to work, you need a minimal baseline of illumination.”
“What about infrared?” she pressed.
“The foliage is so thick it will blur together, forming a mostly impenetrable block of gray,” Rade said. “Sure, I’ll be able to spot warm-blooded animals perched on the different boughs, but it will be difficult to discern the branches themselves. No, it’s better to rest for the night, and continue in the morning.”
“You don’t expect me to sleep in this passenger seat, do you?” she asked.
“No,” he replied.
He opened the hatch and clambered outside. He helped direct her onto the rungs in the dim light, highlighting them on her HUD so that she knew where to place her hands and feet.
She clambered down, and he followed after her, pausing to retrieve the laser rifle from the mech’s storage compartment, and then settled against a tree beside Shaw.
Nicolas sat down as well, and switched to low power mode to reduce the thermal emissions from the Jupiter’s feet—because even with thermal masking, those emissions would otherwise be visible in the night.
Rade reached up, and twisted his helmet open. He removed it, and his face was hit by a warm blast of air.
“Whoa, I didn’t realize it was that hot,” he said softly as he rested the helmet on the ground beside him. The air smelled mossy. Humid.
“You MOTHs and your jumpsuits,” Shaw commented.
He smiled. “I actually forgot I was wearing it.”
“How much oxygen do you have left?” she asked.
“Another three days,” he said.
She nodded. “No point wasting oxygen.”
“No,” he agreed.
“It’s nice to finally see your face, instead of having to look at an environment-matching visor the whole time,” she told him, with a nod at the helmet he’d set aside.
“You don’t have my avatar displaying on your HUD whenever I transmit?” he asked.
“Oh, I do,” she said. “But the real thing beats an avatar any day.”
Rade stared at her, unsure of what to say, so instead he gave her an uneasy smile, which she returned. He looked away.
“I detect an underlying sense of discomfort between you two,” Nicolas said, via Rade’s Implant. Earlier, Rade had given him the necessary group permissions to join in the conversation with Shaw, if he desired. “Where you ever more than friends?”
“No comment,” Rade said verbally. Though he still kept his voice barely above a whisper.
Shaw smiled. “We were lovers, once. But that was a long time ago. I don’t think we’ve been introduced by the way. I’m astrogator Shaw Chopra, formerly of the Saratoga. And you are?”
“Nicolas,” the AI announced. “I have no last name. I’ve never met an astrogator before. From what I’ve heard, it’s mostly a babysitting role, is it not? The AI of a starship does the actual astrogating.”
“It’s a bit more than babysitting,” Shaw said. “Otherwise there would be no need for astrogators. I enter in the coordinates and confirm the course the AI calculates is accurate.”
“Sounds like babysitting to me,” Rade quipped.
She frowned at him. “I also take manual control sometimes.”
“But that’s mostly to confirm that manual control still works, is it not?” Nicolas said.
“That’s right, the two of you go ahead and team up on me,” Shaw said.
“There’s nothing wrong with babysitting,” Nicolas said. “Most bridge jobs are that way. Except perhaps communications. And targeting of enemy objects. But the AI does the actual firing and aiming, in the latter case.”
“I signed up mostly so I could go to the stars, anyway,” Shaw said. “It’s funny though… other than a trip eight thousand light years from home, I’ve spent most of my career on Earth, or near Earth’s orbit.”
“Eight thousand light years?” Nicolas said. “That is indeed impressive.”
“Yeah, too bad she ended up stranded on a planet there,” Rade said. “With the Slipstream closed behind her.”
“Those were some fun times,” Shaw said, flashing a quick smile. He saw those cheek dimples of hers when she did that, and he found himself wanting to touch them.
He resisted.
“How did you get out of that situation?” Nicolas asked.
“Her ingenuity,” Rade replied. “She stowed away aboard an alien craft. You know, at the time, I never thought I’d see her again. I thought I’d lost her.”
“And how did that make you feel?” Nicolas said.
“I don’t know,” Rade said. “Broken, I guess? I’d already lost a good friend on that same planet, and to lose Shaw too, was just devastating. I half-expected my entire platoon to die thereafter, and I was so numb to death by then, that I doubted I would have even cared.”
He suddenly started weeping. He looked away from Shaw.
“Rade, what is it?” she said. “Are you crying?”
He didn’t answer her, and quickly rubbed his eyes. Fool!
Shaw repositioned so that she was kneeling in front of him. He looked away again, not wanting her to see his face. He felt like throwing his helmet back on.
She sighed, and sat against the tree once more, on the other side of him. She pressed against him, and rested her head on the shoulder of his suit assembly.
“I fell for an AI in one of my last missions,” he said. “We were saving a colony from a coordinated attack by the Nemesis and the alien units they employed, called Draactals. Her name was Taya. She was the AI of my mech.”
“You fell for her?” Shaw asked, pulling her head away. “How is that even possible? I thought combat robots didn’t have emotions. The feelings obviously weren’t mutual…”
“Actually, they were. She was the one who chased me. You see, she was… defective. Delivered from the factory with her emotional subroutines still intact, by accident.” He glanced at Nicolas. �
��You can reveal all of this to the LC if you want. Scotts already knows. And he’s already punished me for not reporting her defect.”
“I won’t report you,” Nicolas said. “In fact, I’m fascinated. I wonder what it would be like to feel such emotion… I’m curious if it would let me bond with you in a similar manner as Taya.”
“I don’t think I’d be interested,” Rade said.
“I mean bond as a brother, not a lover,” Nicolas said.
“Ah,” Rade said.
Shaw was silent for a time. “Did you love her?” She finally asked Rade.
He smiled sadly, feeling the tears coming again. He blinked them away, and said: “Yes.”
She nodded. He glanced at her, and the best description he could come up with for her expression was betrayal. As if loving Taya was the biggest double-cross he could have ever done to Shaw in his life, and justified her marrying Romero.
“But I still loved you,” he added quickly. He winced when he realized what he’d said. Why did I tell her that?
She shook her head, and turned away. “Don’t love me, Rade. I don’t… we can’t love each other. You know where that path leads.” Her features seemed stern, harsh.
“It just slipped out,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean it. I mean, I did love you, at the time. But I don’t anymore. Of course, I don’t. You’re going to get married, and… shit.” He looked away, and stared into the jungle. “I’m lying not just to you, but to myself. Of course, I still love you. I always have. I don’t care if you know. Fuck it. In fact, I want you to know. But even so, I also want you to be happy. I’m not going to… not going to try to stop you from marrying this Romero. Go for it. You deserve to have someone who can be with you now, rather than ten years in the future. I can’t expect you to wait for me to leave the military. I might die at any time. It’s the nature of my job. So, I understand completely why you’re doing this. But I want you to know… I need you to know… I still love you, as much as I might try to convince myself I don’t. And I always will, no matter which man you choose for yourself.”
Finally, he looked at her. Her expression had transformed, and he was reminded of a puppy dog whose face had brightened upon seeing its dinner bowl.