Pax Machina (Mechhaven Book 1)

by Greg Sorber

  Decommissioning a standard mass-produced mech was one matter; many of their designs used existing civilian models that had tacked on weapons systems and updated their subroutines for military operations. Angel, the Archangel-777, was a state-of-the-art war machine on a whole different level in terms of technology. His integrated systems made it problematic to adhere to the Accords. However, there was some hope. The Rybeth Accords didn’t make any exceptions on which mechs qualified for asylum by declaring Pax Machina. At least, that’s what she hoped to convince Therapy.

  Therapy was her liaison to the Accords Compliance Committee, called the ACC for short. On days when she felt annoyed by all the rules and regulations, she referred to it by the sound “ack”. This vexed Therapy, but she didn’t care: that’s what he got for bothering her so often. The mech worked for her, though she couldn’t always tell by how demanding and ruthless he was about quality and deadlines. But complying with the Accords was vital, so his input into the processes they followed on Mechhaven was important.

  During the war, Therapy had served on General Elaine Dirksen’s staff. General Dirksen was the leader of the Joint Forces of the Alliance of Independent Systems and TexaNova. His records showed he’d received a commendation for saving her life from an assassination attempt. When the war was over, Therapy accompanied General Dirksen on her quest to broker peace and ratify the Accords. Therapy played a pivotal role in creating Mechhaven and was the first mech to declare Pax Machina.

  Therapy’s official designation was TH3R-0-P, but Misty started calling him Therapy a short time after she arrived on Mechhaven. They’d gotten off on the wrong foot, and she thought he needed therapy because of his obsession with perfect forms and reports. The other mechs respected him and did what he asked without question. It seemed to Misty that she was the only one that gave him a hard time. But then again, she hated forms and paperwork, even though she understood the necessity. Her role during the war was that of a logistics officer. She loved securing supply chains and hunting for hard-to-find items, but dreaded the inevitable mountain of forms needed for requisition.

  Therapy was one of the most human-like mechs on Mechhaven. If you looked beyond his light green-tinted metalo-polymer skin, in terms of size, demeanor, and mannerisms, he was almost indistinguishable from a human. Mechs designed to work side-by-side with humans were similar in size for practicality of communication and accommodations. Many mechs developed personality quirks based on their experiences. Therapy exhibited the traits of a top bureaucratic manager. If you kept him waiting too long, he’d tap his wrist, even though he didn’t wear a watch. If he grew bored, he would thrum his fingers on his workstation. And don’t get her started on how he fussed with his standard issue coveralls like they were a dress uniform.

  Misty entered the Command Center, but before she could call out her usual sarcastic greeting of ‘Honey, I’m home’, she heard Therapy’s disappointed voice.

  “Misty, our reports are overdue for transmission. Please tell me you have them ready.”

  Misty grimaced. “Therapy, we might have a problem.”

  She entered the door to her office and found Therapy sitting behind her desk. She hated when he did that. He leaned forward, the tips of his fingers on both hands pressed together.

  “Regarding the Archangel-777 that arrived last night, correct?”

  “How did you discover Angel?” she asked.

  “You’ve named it? Already?” Therapy asked. “That was fast.”

  “I hate when you do that,” Misty said.

  “What? Spy on you? If you kept me informed, spying on you wouldn’t be necessary.” Therapy sat back in the chair.

  “That—and when you sit in my chair. Out!” She pointed to her office door.

  Therapy stood up and walked around the desk, motioning for her to take her seat. “For the record, I did not spy on you. Per my usual process, I reviewed the sensor logs from the time I went on standby cycle last night until I came back online this morning. I found anomalous readings from the sensor grid, so I investigated and found security bot footage showing the Archangel-777. I was just doing my job.”

  “Somebody posted the security bot footage on the general network for all to see,” Misty said.

  Therapy tilted his head. “I wonder who would’ve done that? It couldn’t have been your friend Sly, could it?” Therapy asked.

  Misty slipped by the mech, handed him her datapad, and took her seat, kicking her feet up on her desk. “We’ll worry about Sly another time. What can we do about Angel?”

  Therapy glanced at the datapad and set it on the desk. “These forms are incomplete. They’ll never pass review. This Archangel needs to provide us with more information.”

  “Angel says his details are classified and that he’s incapable of giving us that information.”

  “He can’t? Or he won’t?” Therapy asked.

  “He suffered a hard landing. It was more like a crash. He wasn’t even in a landing pod. Any other mech wouldn’t have survived. He claims the crash damaged his memory matrix,” Misty said.

  “That’s convenient.”

  “This morning in DECOM, Ajax found that Angel’s weapons systems are so integrated throughout his body that he can’t remove them. Ajax had to use four power siphons to reduce Angel’s power capacity enough so that he couldn’t activate any weapons.”

  “Misty, that won’t work. The Accords are clear. Mechs seeking asylum must disarm.”

  “The power siphons do the same thing.”

  “What if they fail, or what if he or someone else removes them?”

  Misty stood and pointed at Therapy. “You always tell me the Accords apply to any mech, no exceptions. Are you telling me that’s not true?”

  Therapy folded his arms. “The Archangel-777s are not in the database of eligible mechs. As far as I know, none of them survived the war, so the Accords don’t apply to them.”

  Misty put her hands on her hips. “Yet, one is here. Check again.”

  Therapy paused, running through the records in his memory, then accessed the primary computer system. “Odd. There is a record now. It contains limited information, but it’s there.”

  “I told you so. What should we do?”

  “This could be a test,” said Therapy.

  “A test? How?”

  “A rare, powerful mech crashing on Mechhaven is one thing. The database entry mysteriously appearing is too much of a coincidence. It stands to reason the ACC is testing us. They want to see how we deal with this situation.”

  Misty shook her head. “That’s hard to believe. They’ve left us to our own devices for too long. Besides the Accords themselves and some initial guidance when we started, they’ve forgotten us. We’re just a checkbox on some bureaucrat’s task list. From their cushy offices in the core systems, they have no idea what planet we’re on or star system we’re in.”

  “Misty, I’m assigned to help you run the administrative side of things and to keep you—all of us—out of trouble.”

  “You’re the bureaucratic expert. What do you recommend?”

  “We have several options, but all have benefits and drawbacks. First, transmit the data as it is. It’s the most straightforward step. They will reject the asylum form for being incomplete and will send it back for correction and resubmission. It may create further scrutiny on future and even our past transmissions, but we can handle that later.”

  “Does the Accords Compliance Committee review all of this documentation?” Misty asked.

  “The bureaucracy works in strange ways. I am more familiar with it and its processes than anyone else here. I’m outlining the choices you have and consequences.”

  “Okay, what’s the second?”

  “Second, we can send a message requesting guidance on the situation.”

  “That sounds like a reasonable request. What’s wrong with that?”

  “The Accords are strict in terms of what we do when a mech declares Pax Machina. By requesting clarifi
cation, it makes us look like we’re not following the protocols, and by not knowing what to do, it makes us seem incompetent, therefore triggering greater scrutiny of past and future transmissions.”

  “We submit our transmissions on time.” Misty said.

  “We are timely with our transmissions, primarily because of my efforts. You, Dennis, and Ajax are only human and make mistakes. I catch most of them, but even with my diligent efforts, I’m not perfect. If the bureaucracy investigates all of our other records, I’m sure they’ll find some mistakes which will call into question everything we’ve done here.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Misty raised her hand for Therapy to stop. “What’s the third option?”

  “I can talk to the Archangel and see if he’ll give me any additional information.”

  “What makes you think he’ll give you any more information?” Misty asked.

  “I’m a fellow mech, so perhaps he’ll be more open with me. Also, I still hold several high-level security clearances. Maybe that will make him more comfortable giving me the information.”

  “Even if he provides you with classified information, you still won’t be able to send the data.” Misty said.

  “We’ve never had to do it, but there are ways to wrap the specific record regarding the Archangel-777 with extra encryption to keep it secure. It may raise a few eyebrows, but it should meet any necessary security requirements.”

  “If he gives you any more information.”

  “Correct.”

  “What do we do with our current record?”

  “You haven’t uploaded it to the system yet?”

  “No.”

  “Delete your record. It’s incomplete. Then upload the rest of your data. I’ll send our scheduled transmission as planned.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I’ll talk with Angel and see if I can get more information. If not, then we’ll contact the ACC for more guidance.” Therapy said.

  “You’re okay with this?” Misty asked.

  “Every neurotronic pathway in my body is warning me that this is a terrible idea, but it’s our best option for now. If I come up with anything better, I’ll message you.”

  “Thanks, Therapy. I give you a lot of crap, but you are the best.” Misty said.

  “Misty, was that a compliment?” Therapy asked.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t make it a habit.”

  “Don’t worry, compliments from you are about as rare as an Archangel-777 crashing on Mechhaven. Speaking of which, where is this Angel?”

  “He was in the DECOM Module, but Ajax is planning on taking him to The Black Hole to introduce him to the other mechs.”

  “The Black Hole on his first day? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Chapter Four

  Excerpt from Archivist Olivia Houston’s response to Archivist Louis De Robinet and Horatio Academica’s responses to Head-Archivist Singh

  I’ve always been impressed by y’alls fancy words, but in TexaNova we value deeds over talk. High King Servier of the Arcturan Monarchies has made honest attempts at reparations, but more effort is still needed. Y’all in the Imperium are trying to close the barn door after the horses are out. Waiting five years will give your emperor more time to obfuscate the evidence than he already has. We know who started the war. My folks want to know why it started, period.

  Archivist Olivia Houston

  TexaNova

  Ajax finished tidying up his workshop for the day. He secured all his tools in their proper locations. Theft wasn’t something that worried him, but he enjoyed coming back to a clean shop in the morning. A tidy shop was an efficient shop. At least that’s what his instructors drilled into him. On Mechhaven he’d found it essential, since a call to decommission new mechs could come at any hour.

  He walked to the maintenance lift where Angel reclined. Angel’s ocular sensors focused on him as he approached. “Are you feeling any better?” Ajax asked.

  “My systems are adapting to the decreased power reserves.”

  Ajax scanned Angel with his datapad to record a baseline on his current system statuses. “I’m glad to hear that. Are you ready for a walk?”

  “A walk?” Angel asked.

  Ajax released the bindings that secured Angel to the lift. “Sure, let’s take a walk over to The Black Hole. I’ll introduce you to Dennis and any other mechs hanging out. I’ll check the calibration of your systems along the way.”

  “Will there be many mechs there?”

  If Ajax wasn’t mistaken, he’d say that Angel sounded nervous.

  “I don't know. I’ve lost track of whether it’s karaoke night or not. If it is, it’ll be very crowded.”

  “Mechs do karaoke?”

  “Yes, it’s very popular. Some play golf too.”

  “That’s strange.”

  “Which one?” Ajax asked.

  “Both. Why are they interested in karaoke and golf?”

  “As for karaoke, I’m not sure how that started. But in terms of golf, before Misty, the original general in charge liked to play, so he had the mechs make a golf course. That general didn’t last long, he had to transfer for health reasons. He had an allergic reaction to something in the dust. After he left, no one used the course, so the mechs expanded it to fit their size and strength.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “Yeah, but you just have to watch for the warning signals when someone is playing. You wouldn’t want to get struck by a golf ball hit by a mech.”

  The Black Hole was a pub located across the Landing Pad from the DECOM Module. Ajax and Angel cut a few minutes off their journey and walked straight across the Landing Pad. There weren’t any transports scheduled to arrive that day, so they weren’t in any danger. Ajax used the wide-open landing pad to evaluate how Angel’s gross motor functions performed based on his lowered power capacity. The empty landing pad eliminated the chance of Angel crashing into buildings, equipment, other mechs, or people.

  Angel’s movements were sluggish and tentative at first, but improved the further he walked. Many mechs had calibration issues following decommissioning, but Ajax empathized with Angel. His current power level was only a fraction of what he was used to accessing. Since Angel was a walking integrated weapons platform, Ajax didn’t have a choice but to install the power siphons. They were the only way he had available to neutralize Angel’s advanced capabilities.

  Ajax wasn’t even sure if using the power siphons was the best way of restricting Angel’s power. There could be long-term consequences no one was aware of. He hoped to figure out another solution. Perhaps they could insert some code into Angel’s control matrix that would prevent him from accessing his weapons systems. That’s what had been done to Connie to prevent her from converting into war machines. Coding wasn’t his specialty. For that, they needed someone familiar with advanced artificial intelligence programming. Sly came to mind. But nobody trusted her, so he’d keep that idea for later.

  Dennis had established The Black Hole, the social hub of Mechhaven, inside a giant unused hangar. Built to protect the transport craft used to bring mechs and supplies to the planetoid, it received its name from the large black circle painted on the side. No one admitted to knowing how the black circle ended up painted on the hangar. Everyone Ajax asked claimed it was there before they arrived. He was pretty sure that the black circle covered up a giant SeroCorp logo.

  The mechs built a much smaller hangar as one of their first infrastructure projects. That hangar now housed the remaining shuttle and surface transport craft. The original hangar remained as a designated shelter from the powerful electromagnetic storms that raged across the surface for days at a time. It was large enough that even Bastion could fit inside, albeit with little clearance.

  Dennis proposed the idea of converting the huge unused hangar into a meeting space. He wanted somewhere humans and mechs could meet, relax, and interact in non-official roles. Therapy provided research from an AI psychology expert, who sugge
sted a place for mechs to socialize outside their assigned or assumed duties would be beneficial for their mental health. Misty had approved the concept, and The Black Hole came into existence. Not all mechs frequented The Black Hole, but all were welcome.

  The hangar was spacious enough for two or three dozen mechs to gather comfortably for socializing. For official meetings, when everyone was required to attend, it got very crowded. It served as practice for when they had to take shelter from the electromagnetic storms. Aside from the storms, mechs didn’t mind being outdoors. Using the hangar to conduct meetings was a concession for the comfort of humans.

  After befriending Dennis, Ajax discovered he kept a small but quality collection of alcoholic beverages. His stash was only for the humans—or with any VIPs he felt worthy of sharing. He, Dennis, and Misty had spent many evenings partaking of the stash, blowing off steam, and enjoying each other’s company. At least they did, until Dennis and Misty’s falling out.

  Ajax found it even more interesting that Dennis kept a supply of fuel, chemicals, additives, and enhancements that he mixed in various proportions to create special cocktails for the mechs. A handful of mechs dubbed Dennis a wizard. He concocted brews that lifted their spirits, relieved their stress, and gave them focus and energy. The mechs even gave the drinks names. The most popular drinks were the Super Nova and the Hyperdrive.