Pax Machina (Mechhaven Book 1)

by Greg Sorber

  Wavelength was the perfect mech to assist. He’d been a communications specialist during the war and assisted Therapy with the routine communications duties on Mechhaven. While mechs didn’t need rest and sleep in the same way humans did, they still took shifts so they could perform necessary maintenance tasks, other duties, and enjoy individual pursuits. Wavelength no longer had access to all the military frequencies he’d used during the war. They’d been disabled as part of his decommissioning. His expertise in boosting and piggybacking signals would still be useful. Other mechs would have helped if asked, but it was easier to work with Wavelength since they were already used to working with each other.

  After inspecting the Primary Communications Array, Therapy and Wavelength proceeded to the Secondary Communications System. It was in a secluded area, away from easy access and not visible from orbit. Whoever had installed it was still thinking in terms of the war and had created a robust, out of the way backup system. That had saved it from being targeted by the inspection team and being destroyed during the attack.

  Designed for short-range communications on the planetoid, the secondary system was an array of antennas directed at other antennas within their line of sight, and relayed signals to the desired recipient around the planetoid. For Therapy and Wavelength’s plan to work, they needed to direct the signal into space, but then amplify it with enough power to reach their desired target. The problem they faced was the secondary system only had enough power to send signals around the small planetoid, instead of out of the atmosphere and into the vastness of space.

  “Do you have any ideas on how we can boost the signal?” Therapy asked Wavelength, who was fiddling with some cables.

  “Power. We need more power,” Wavelength said.

  “I have an idea about that,” Therapy said. He sent a message to Ajax.

  About an hour later, Ajax arrived in the hover truck. He waved for Therapy and Wavelength to assist him with a portable battery bank and the other equipment he had scrounged together.

  “Let me get this straight. You want to boost the Secondary Communications System using Angel’s siphoned power, just like we jump-started you?” Ajax asked.

  “It worked well enough on me,” Therapy said.

  Ajax put his hand on his chin. “I almost blew your circuits—and your systems aren’t as delicate as the communication systems. They didn’t design the secondary system for blasting signals into space.”

  “Which is why I had you bring the other equipment. We need to regulate the stream of power into the communications equipment better than you did with me. But once we power it up, we can increase the intensity in increments until it’s strong enough to send the signal we need.”

  “If you fry this system, we won’t have any communications at all,” Ajax said.

  “If we don’t get help it won’t matter, will it?” Therapy asked.

  “You’re right, as always.”

  Wavelength looked at the equipment, including the battery back and said, “I can work with this.”

  “Then let’s get to work,” Therapy said.

  “You two let me know if you need anything else,” Ajax said. “I have to help Dennis with a project.”

  Neither of the mechs replied. They were focused on the task at hand.

  As requested, Lancer had gathered all the Villagers into the amphitheater. It was the best place for all to assemble and hear Misty speak. She knew she had to give a rousing speech, but was having trouble thinking of what to say. The Rybeth Accords established Mechhaven as a sanctuary: it was supposed to be a place where mechs could be free from fighting and war. She was going to ask them to fight again. It wasn’t right. They should be free to live their lives any way they wanted. But because she’d forced the issue and granted Angel asylum—as was his right under Pax Machina—she had brought trouble, whether legitimate or illegitimate, down upon them.

  With the Planet Cleanser on the way, it wasn’t about whether they could give up Angel to appease the Imperium. It was about whether they would fight the screevers, or stand by and face their own destruction.

  The amphitheater was designed with mechs in mind: they quarried the stone to use for other structures and constructed the amphitheater as they went. It was an impressive place to hold meetings and special events. Big enough to hold five-hundred mechs, it could hold more than double all the mechs in residence. There was plenty of room to expand it if their population ever grew enough to warrant it.

  Familiar mechs filed in and took their seats. Bastion arrived with Connie. The Pyro siblings, Ash, Cinder, and Sparky came together. The newest mechs, Artie and Larry, flanked Lancer as he made his way into the arena. So many others—she had named them all. Perhaps this would’ve been easier if she’d never named them and let them keep their original designations. No. That was a stupid idea. She’d given them names to help them start over. She gave them names to help them find a separate identity from who they’d been during the war. The names helped them become not just mechs, but individual beings who had lives of their own.

  Misty’s communicator buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and checked the screen. It was Dennis. Misty hoped it wasn’t more dire news. She wasn’t sure if she could take any more. She answered the call and nodded while listening to Dennis’s report. When they disconnected, she felt a little better.

  Lancer signaled when everyone was ready. All those that were coming were here. Any still on assignment, like Wavelength or Therapy, would listen to the broadcast. The Legion would also receive her broadcast, though she would visit them in-person to request their aid.

  “My friends, thank you for allowing me to speak. I bring terrible news. I’m sure you all know about our friend Angel’s arrival and how I granted him asylum as outlined in the Accords, which established Pax Machina. The same Accords that gave you the right to have your deeds during the war forgiven and allowed you to establish your home here to live in peace.

  “The inspection team from the Imperium, which we believe were not authorized representatives, nor had approval to conduct an inspection, has sent a Planet Cleanser and will unleash it on this world, our home. This Planet Cleanser will unleash a horde of specialized bots called screevers to wipe Angel, any evidence he is carrying in his memory matrix, and the rest of us from existence.

  “It pains me in ways deeper than you can imagine asking this of you, but I must implore you for your aid in fighting the screevers, defending yourselves, and your homes. We have no weapons to fight with, just a few tools, your expertise, and your combat experience. But it’s a choice between standing up and fighting, or standing by and letting the screevers erase us all, this place, and its ideals from history.”

  Misty paused. She looked around at the mechs, all of their attention was on her. She took a deep breath before continuing.

  “I won’t give you false hope. I can’t say for sure whether we have a chance against the screevers. The intel that Angel provided suggests even a fully armed division of mechs would have trouble repelling a screever invasion. But we are defending our home and throughout time that has been a powerful motivator and has precipitated miracles.

  “I give you my word, I will not rollover and let these things destroy this world without a fight. Dennis and Ajax are working on ways to counteract the worst of the screevers. Therapy and Wavelength are trying to reestablish off-world communications to reach out for help. With your help too, we will set up defenses that will buy us time. If we work together, we stand a chance.

  “After I am done here, I will travel to the Foundry to appeal to the Legion. You fought against them in the war, so you know they are tough and determined fighters. If we stand united, we will have a chance.”

  When Misty finished, silence followed. What did she expect? A human telling free mechs who until that moment planned to live out their lives in peace that they had to fight once again. It wouldn’t be a popular idea. But did any of them have a choice? Why would they stand by and let screevers destroy t
hem? Mechs were sentient beings with desires to live and thrive. They would do what all other sentient beings did and defend themselves. Wouldn’t they?

  It started slowly, one at a time at first. But then, by twos and threes, the mechs stood up and cheered. They shouted their support and yelled that they would do what was necessary to beat the screevers.

  Misty fell to her knees and cried. The last time she cried like this was when she’d lost—she pushed up her right sleeve to reveal the name laser-etched into her skin. It read ‘Ace’ with wings outstretched on either side of the name. She’d lost Ace, a pilot, so close to the end of the war. If they’d both made it through the war, her life would have turned out so much different. The pain was still there, a wound that had never healed. The issue with Dennis was trivial compared to it, yet it helped magnify the residual pain. She’d told no one else on Mechhaven about Ace, which only made it worse.

  What she felt in the amphitheater was something different, something deeper, more profound. This coming battle would determine the fate of Mechhaven, and whether it would stand as a beacon of hope for all mechs, or fade away in to the dusts of time.

  Angel bent down next to Misty and asked, “Misty, are you okay? Shall I call Doc?”

  Misty wiped at her tears with her sleeve. “No. I’m okay. I was just overwhelmed at the response.”

  Lancer came to Misty’s side. “Why art thou surprised? T’was a magnificent speech. I should know, we listen to many speeches in the Arcturan Monarchies and this topped most that I’ve heard. We all know how hard thou work for us, for all of Mechhaven. We will stand up and defend our home. What dost thou need of us?”

  Misty stood up and said, “Angel will transmit the data he has on the Planet Cleanser and the screevers to you. I need you to set up a plan for the mechs to fight the screevers with what little resources we have on hand. I know we can improvise a bit, so come up with ideas. The more mechs we have working on this, the more options we’ll have.”

  “We shall begin right away.”

  “Also, I need as many mechs as you can spare to help Dennis collect xenrats.”

  Ajax didn’t return straight to Dennis at the ChemLab Module. Dennis would be fine with whatever help Misty could get him for collecting and processing xenrats. Their special project was just as important, at least for the three humans. So instead, he went to The Black Hole. He grabbed his toolbox from the back of the hover truck and entered the hanger. He walked to the back, right past the bar, to the door of the secure workshop. As was the process, he input his security code. The door opened. Ajax walked in and sealed the door behind him. Time was short and there was still a lot of work to do.

  Chapter Ten

  Head-Archivist Dante Singh’s admonition of Archivist Olivia Houston

  I would like to remind my colleague from TexaNova that civility is among the highest virtues to which Archivists aspire. In the interest of hearing evidence from all sides of the conflict and weighing all available evidence, I deny your veto motion. The Conclave will listen to testimony from Sub-Archivist Aleena Chan, also an expert on the Feron system.

  Head-Archivist Dante Singh

  Alliance of Independent Systems

  With Lancer and the Villagers squared away, Misty’s next goal was to plead her case to Gladius and enlist the Legion’s aid. The only problem was she was running out of time and needed to get to the Foundry as fast as possible. She would bring Angel along as well. Since the current crisis centered on him, she had a feeling it would go a long way towards securing Gladius’s help if Angel were there to speak on his own behalf. Misty spotted Connie saying goodbye to Bastion. When the converter had finished, Misty approached her.

  “Connie, can you take Angel and I to the Foundry?” Misty asked. “I need to persuade Gladius and the Legion to help us out.”

  “Does it have to be me?” Connie asked. “You know I’m not fond of them.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you if it weren’t necessary, but the other hovercraft are in use and the flat-tread is too slow. I need to get there quick. Besides, there’s nobody else who I’d rather have my back when dealing with the Legion than you.”

  “Since you put it that way... I’ll take you. We can chat along the way. It might be our last chance.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic, we’ll get through this.”

  “We will—but if we don’t, we’ll take a lot of those screevers with us on our way out!”

  “Now that’s optimistic thinking,” Misty said.

  Connie took several steps away from Misty, making sure she had enough room to complete her conversion. She used her innate ability to deconstruct and reconstruct her body, converting from her humanoid robot form into her hovercraft mode. The technology was amazing: it not only allowed Connie to change into multiple forms but also alter her size. The ability had its limits. She couldn’t shrink or grow beyond certain sizes without inflicting damage on herself, but she could manage a form large enough to accommodate both Misty and Angel. Another limitation was that she could only convert into forms she was familiar with and had practiced.

  Misty rode along in the front of the hovercraft, while Angel was crunched tightly in the cargo area. He didn’t look thrilled about it, either. Misty and Connie made small talk when Angel interrupted and asked, “Connie, we haven’t known each other for very long, but can I ask you a question—about converters?”

  “Sure, we have a little while before we get to the Foundry. What do you want to know?”

  “Converters seem like the perfect mech, so why aren’t there more of you?”

  Connie was silent.

  “Oh, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to offend you,” Angel said.

  “No, no, it’s not that,” Connie said. “I just haven’t thought about it in a long time. I guess the reason you don’t see many converters is for the same reason we don’t see many Archangels—cost and attrition. There were quite a few of us at the start of the war, but our leaders, hoping for a quick victory, relied on us too much in the earliest battles.

  “We were a force to reckon with, as you can imagine. But we were such a threat, that the Imperium made it a point to target us in battle and then destroyed the facilities where we were made and repaired. The Imperium was so thorough in their destruction of those facilities that our leadership decided it was too expensive to rebuild them. Those of us who survived, were assigned to support roles since they couldn’t make any more of us. That was also about the time Archangels started arriving on scene.”

  “Oh, that makes sense. I didn’t realize the rollout of the Archangel models coincided with the demise of the converters,” Angel said.

  “That’s one way to put it. Now it’s time for me to ask you a question,” Connie said.

  “Fair is fair.”

  “You look like you can hold your own in a fight, which is from your training and subroutines, but your demeanor seems very green. Is that just your personality, or are you fresh off the line?” Connie asked.

  Misty had never thought to ask that question. It surprised her that Connie was so blunt, but then again Connie was known for speaking her mind. Misty wondered how Angel would answer.

  “It was near the end of the war and I was one of the final Archangels to come online. I don’t know how many more of my class were made, if any. It was a classified facility. They gave me an abbreviated basic training and sent me on my mission.”

  “You didn’t fight in any of the battles during the war?” Connie asked.

  “No. All of my action was behind enemy lines, and it was a covert mission. I was to engage the enemy only if necessary to maintain the secrecy of my mission. I didn’t run into any trouble until I was on my way back out of Imperium space.” Angel said.

  “Interesting,” Connie said. “Yet you performed well with the rescue effort the other day. I get the sense that you have a powerful warrior within you just waiting to get out.”

  “I guess we’ll never know,” Angel said.

  “Or we’ll f
ind out soon,” Connie said.

  “My turn for a question,” Misty said. “I remember hearing stories about several converters merging to make one gigantic mech. Any truth to those?”

  Connie laughed. When she stopped, she said, “That’s an interesting question! I haven’t heard that one in a long time.”

  “Is it true?” Angel asked.

  “There’s a grain of truth to it. Some of us thought those stories may have been what caused the Imperium to target us with so much ferocity.”

  “Is it even possible?” Misty asked.

  “In technical terms, yes, it is possible. There were several experimental projects exploring that as their goal, but none were successful. With converter technology, there’s no reason several converters couldn’t form into one large mech. That’s the straightforward part. But in practical terms, there’s no way for it to work. Let’s say you have five mechs that form into one. Which mech is in charge? Which mech controls what? And how do you control that? It would be much easier to link a bunch of bots to the converter’s personality as the leader. But five separate converters? That won’t happen. We’re too strong-willed. It’s an offshoot of the programing needed to change and maintain multiple forms.

  “There were some attempts to do it with fewer mechs. Two, in the case I remember. It worked to a degree, but wasn’t practical for battle; it was more of a bonding exercise. The two mechs had to have such a deep relationship and be so close to each other in the way they think and feel, that they would have to act as one. I only knew one or two from the old days that I would ever think about doing that with. Now I only know one.”

  “Connie, are you talking about Bastion? How scandalous!” Misty said.

  “If you want to talk about scandalous, then you’re the one I’d blame. You’re the one who kept pushing us together,” Connie said.

  “Speaking of deeper relationships, how’s Bastion taking the news?”