Bulletfoot One

by Marshall Rust

  They continued the journey through the town, where a few of the makeshift shelters were open and long tables were set up. Kitchens worked to stir huge pots of steaming liquid, and clay ovens had already been stoked to bake bread that was kneaded in large amounts by a group that had been designated to prepare the food for the rest of the residents.

  They were all brought in and organized to work together to supply the other elements that would enable them to accomplish the enormous task ahead. While they could have thrown everyone at the physical and material demands this involved, Mayor Jones had proven to be an effective leader. People knew something was being done to repair Auburn and were willing to make sacrifices as long as it meant that everyone worked toward the same goal.

  Maybe the man didn't have the same raw charisma Hammerhand did when he strode around in his Excalibur, but she had to say he knew how to keep people motivated.

  "You lot sure do seem determined to cover any signs of the attack," Robert7 noted from the back of the Minato.

  "They have nowhere else to go," Jessica13 replied. "Leaving this place in disrepair would simply mean they were exposed to the elements. To avoid that, they'll work together and ultimately rebuild the whole town again."

  "Why do you refer to them like that?"

  "Like what?"

  "Them, they, their—you talk about it like you're not in the same fight as they are."

  "I'm not from the town of Auburn. This isn't my home, and the moment they no longer need us here, we'll head out again. The Knights Mechanica have much more to do than settle down."

  "Your group is the Knights Mechanica?"

  She turned her head, even though she wouldn’t be able to see him. Hopefully, he would see the motion and interpret the surprise. "Of course we are. Who the hell did you think it was who put up that much of a fight?"

  "Our commanders only told us that the town was in rebellion. We assumed they had bought combat mechs and used them at an opportune time and maybe hired a couple of mercs to add to their numbers or to train their folk on how to fight. But I didn't think the Knights Mechanica had actually come all this way to fight us. I thought they…well, you only fought for those who needed help."

  Jessica13 scowled. "And when we saw people herded into a church and burned alive, we realized that the people of Auburn were among those who needed our help."

  "None of our people ever did that."

  "I saw Athena do it personally. Her and her men in Cinder mechs."

  "Athena?"

  "You know—the woman in an Excalibur who likes to fight with a spear."

  "Oh, Lady Hoot. Well, she's not really one of ours. I'm not sure what kind of arrangement was worked out with her and her raiders, but the general idea is that they are the muscle we would have hired to maintain order in the area."

  "Well, they've done a fantastic job.” She didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm in her tone. “You did see that they burned a whole damn town, right? They set it all on fire and then hid in it and waited for us to arrive to catch us off-guard while we tried to find survivors."

  "I don't… I'm sure the commanders at FEMA didn't realize she would go that far—"

  "Do you really believe that?"

  Robert7 didn't reply and his silence was telling enough. They had to know what Athena was doing, especially if these towns were the source of food for the underground city. Maybe she had done it without their permission, but without their knowledge?

  Impossible.

  As they moved away from the center of town, what looked like a militia had begun to assemble. The group of men and women were armed with a selection of improvised weapons. They didn't include any of the Knights in their number and they didn't appear to join any of the work that was in progress throughout Auburn.

  It wasn't something Jessica13 thought to question. These people had been through enough and if they wanted to find ways to protect themselves, they had that right.

  They turned to look at the Minato as it moved across their line of sight. It took her a few seconds to realize that what had caught their attention wasn't actually her but the man on the back of her mech.

  "What are they staring at?" she whispered. "It's not like it's the first time someone's used a mech to carry anyone before."

  "Well, I suppose not, but I think what has their attention is the fact that your prisoner is in a FEMA City pilot sleeve."

  Mini once again had a point, and she came to a halt when a smaller group of the militia began to approach. She looked at them a little more closely and realized that only some were members of the militia. Those with weapons in their hands and who stood at the edges of the group were, while the others wore the black pilot sleeves she had begun to associate as being worn by FEMA City's fighters.

  Robert7 attempted to straighten on her back and had seen that at least a dozen of his comrades had survived the battle, although they looked a little battered and bruised. Some had cuts that showed fresh blood. Maybe they had all recently been rescued from under rubble?

  One of the militia noticed her prisoner and raised his hand to bring the group to a halt.

  "Don't you mind him…"

  "Jessica13."

  "Jessica13, right. You can turn him over to us and we'll take care of him for you."

  The man gestured for her to approach, but there was something off about his manner and maybe the way he carried himself. He seemed a little too aggressive and it gave her pause.

  "Don't worry about that," she replied. "This man is injured and needs medical attention. I'll find someone who can help him and then get back to work."

  "Why would we waste any medical attention on this bastard?" one of the women asked loudly, and a few of her comrades nodded in agreement.

  The apparent commander made no response to this, either for or against, but fixed his gaze on Jessica13. "Hand him over and go about your business. We'll make sure he's tended to."

  "Jessica13," Mini said and drew her attention to him rather than the man in front of her. “I thought you might want to know that the injuries the prisoners sustained are fairly fresh and appear to have been caused by the weapons carried by the Auburn Militia."

  She narrowed her eyes. The claim sounded ridiculous but Mini wasn't the type of AI to spin lies out of nowhere. Sure enough, when he highlighted and enhanced the weapons in question, she could see fresh blood which left her in no doubt that they were the cause of the marks on the bodies of the prisoners.

  "I think I'll keep an eye on him myself if you don't mind."

  She took a step back when the man approached her and sensed the focused gazes of all the militia around her. None of them were in mechs, of course, so she didn't feel she was in any real danger, but Robert7 had no armor between him and any bullets that might be fired, either deliberately or accidentally.

  And with him injured on her back, there was no way they could move to all fours and race away. It would force him from her back, which defeated the entire purpose of their escape.

  "Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be," the man said and scowled at her, while some of the militia grasped their weapons a little tighter and tensed as if to ready themselves for action.

  Some who guarded the improvised stockade began to move behind her, likely intending to drag the man off her back before she could protest.

  "What's happening here?"

  They all turned as Mayor Jones walked down the street toward them. His clothes looked a little grubby and ragged and were stained with gray dust, likely from having helped to clear rubble. His beard, face, and hands were similarly affected by the work, yet he still looked fresh and a small, friendly smile played across his handsome features.

  "We were merely trying to take this prisoner off Jessica13's hands, sir," the commander stated. He made an effort to wipe the scowl from his face to present a cool, calm exterior. "I'm sure someone with a mech has better things to do than to ferry prisoners to and from the stockade. Considerable work is required to get Aubu
rn up and running again like you said."

  "Indeed, I did, and indeed there is." Mayor Jones patted the man heartily on the shoulder and turned to look at her. "Why can't you hand your prisoner to them?"

  Jessica13 didn't want to seem like she was avoiding the work since, as the man said, there was a daunting amount to do. "This prisoner is severely injured and needs immediate medical attention. I wanted to find someone who could provide it."

  "That attention would as easily be provided while he's in the stockade with the other prisoners."

  "But not as quickly, I don't think."

  The mayor nodded. "Well, suit yourself. Far be it from me to order any of the Knights Mechanica around, and I'm sure you have put a great deal of thought into your reasoning. Carry on, men, and let Jessica13 go about her business."

  The commander turned and glared incredulously at him. "But sir—"

  "There’s nothing to add, Shem. Go about your work and let her go about hers. There’s nothing more to it than that."

  Shem looked like he intended to say something more and perhaps question Mayor Jones' judgment, but his mouth snapped shut and gestured for the militia and prisoners to move down the road.

  Jones strolled over to where she still stood. "I think you might find doctors out to the west section. That's where most of our skilled hands have helped the injured. Likely as not they won't be able to help someone who’s desperately wounded, but they shall certainly try."

  "I hope so." Jessica13 wasn't sure what to say to that.

  He nodded and patted the side of her mech briskly. "I'll join the militiamen and women to make sure they tend to their duties as well as possible. Carry on."

  The man swung on his heel, proceeded down the road toward the prisoners, and increased his pace to reach the commander. Jessica13, Mini, and Robert7 moved in the opposite direction and toward the area where Jones had directed them.

  "Why…"

  Jessica13 craned her head to hear what her passenger was saying. "Why what?"

  "Well…why didn't you turn me over to the others?"

  She shrugged but realized he couldn't see her do it. "Like I said, you need immediate attention and that's not likely to happen while in the stockade…"

  Her voice trailed off when gunfire cracked loudly behind them. She turned but tried not to move too quickly with Robert7 on her back.

  "Is the town under attack again?"

  Mini showed a few audio repeats of the gunfire. "Those were small arms, not the kind carried by mechs. Unless FEMA has sent unarmored troops to attack us, I don't think so."

  Something cold sank into her stomach and she strode back the way they'd come. The shooting had originated from where the militia had guided the prisoners. At the edge of the town, she located their tracks heading out into a couple of the unsown fields. The farmers probably hadn't managed to get to the area yet.

  Even so, with the obvious trail leading into the open and out of the town, she couldn't see anyone—no militia and no prisoners. And it wasn't like they had vanished in the minutes between the gunfire and her arrival.

  Her chest tightened when the tracks led to where a large hole had been dug, with the mounds of dirt still piled beside it.

  "I would suggest you don’t look closer."

  Jessica13 ignored the AI's warning and stepped forward. Shells ejected from the weapons the militia had carried still lay in the dirt, possibly to be collected later by those who were supposed to come and refill the hole that had been left.

  Unfortunately, she couldn't ignore the bodies that were in the pit.

  There were more than the dozen or so she had seen herded by the militia, and if she hadn't heard the gunshots, she would have assumed they had died in the fighting and were being buried outside the town.

  But the wounds were fresh and it looked like more than only the group she had seen had been guided to the hole and executed.

  Even a dozen was too many.

  Something hot and angry roiled in her stomach and she gagged and fought the need to throw up. There was nothing worse than having to clean that from her cockpit.

  "Oh…fuck…" she whispered.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The Excalibur was good for a number of things.

  The size advantage made sure of that. Virtually nothing could stop the hammer it wielded when it was in full swing, and the shield he could set up was certainly a tactical advantage whatever the combat situation might be. It was a useful mech, which was why he had chosen to use it, even though it had come to mean more than merely a bigger mech that could push the smaller ones around. It was a symbol among the Knights Mechanica.

  There was, however, one thing that it was no good at—scouting.

  Hammerhand liked to leave that kind of work to those who piloted mechs better suited to the job.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to pilot a mech designed to excel at scouting. He, like most pilots, had started out using support and light assault mechs.

  But after years of using the larger Excalibur in combat, it didn’t feel right to be in something smaller and more mobile.

  And yet, when the Prophet called on him to join him in scouting ahead of their main force, he couldn’t turn him down. He was something of a mystery, and his knowledge of Citta del Mar was certainly something to be tapped. But there was no way to force something like this.

  The two larger mechs inched forward and away from the main force of joined Knights and Desert Warriors. They moved through the dense grasslands and managed to get a better view of the path ahead of them without giving their current position away.

  “I thought it would be best to move immediately.” The Prophet paused and glanced at their assembled forces before he moved into step with Hammerhand. “Given the kind of loss we inflicted on FEMA City’s forces, I assumed it would only be a matter of time before they increased the numbers of their patrols around their perimeter sections, but the losses in men and mechs would mean they cannot do it immediately. It would be to our advantage to catch them unawares and unexpectant, as they will assume we are also struggling with reduced numbers.”

  Hammerhand grunted his agreement but didn’t offer anything further. The Knights had held their own well enough against the attack, but the losses to their numbers had been hard to swallow. There weren’t that many of them, to begin with.

  Tinker had been right to question their engaging in pitched battles like this, where skill took less precedence over blind luck and years of training and experience would be lost thanks to the effects of a stray bullet.

  Of course, his mechanic and friend was right about many things. There was a reason why the man was his most trusted confidant. And while Tinker hadn’t openly stated any protest against their current objective, it was only a matter of time.

  He knew the best time to engage Hammerhand in a dressing down was when outsiders weren’t around to listen in.

  “You are quiet today, my friend. Why is that?”

  The Knights’ leader scowled at the Argonaut. It wasn’t like he was the most talkative character, to begin with.

  No, that wasn’t quite right. Tinker had often noted that he had a tendency to go on sometimes, but that was only when he felt the inspiration to do so.

  “I’m making sure we won’t be followed. We’ve left a wide trail, should someone come behind us. If a scouting mech caught sight of our advance and reported it to the city, any chance of a surprise attack would be lost.”

  “True, and yet we can trust in what has guided us thus far.”

  “Blind luck?”

  “Destiny.”

  Hammerhand shrugged and settled firmly into his cockpit to guide the Excalibur through the higher routes that would give them a better view of the surrounding landscape. He could already see the vague shapes of the mesa ahead of them, almost three klicks away as the crow flew. Of course, the uneven landscape that gave their troops the cover they needed to advance without being seen would extend the distance a little.
<
br />   “Ex, check the surrounding landscape for any foreign mechs that might be following us once you have a clear view.”

  Commencing scans now, the AI displayed in text across his HUD, and the sensors expanded their parameters into the surrounding area in an attempt to pick up anything that might indicate that they were being followed. The AI even scanned for encrypted comm lines that could reveal if there was communication about the troop’s movements.

  No signs of foreign mechs in the area, Hammerhand. Would you like me to continue periodic scans? the AI said in the scrolling text across his screen.

  “Yes.”

  He was always tempted to complain about the fact that a mech as complex as the Excalibur was fitted with a simple interactive AI, but a quick look into the AI core would discourage that notion. The interactive software was fairly basic but that was only because most of the processing power was used to keep the mech itself functioning, and that was no easy feat.

  When they reached the top of the hill, the two avoided sky-lining themselves using rudimentary cloaking devices and kept themselves positioned lower in case someone ran visual scans from the mesa.

  The sun hung over the west of the base, already on its way toward sunset, which meant it wouldn't set behind them and give the Knights and Desert warriors an easier opportunity to move through the uneven terrain without being identified. They likely wouldn’t stop until late in the night and would use the darkness for cover as well, but it was still best to know where they were going beforehand. Ex would be able to plot a course for them once they had it all visualized from the top.

  The top area was used as a defensive position, and it already began to look impenetrable. Hammerhand knew from experience that it would only get worse the closer they got. Steps led to the base from the valley and circled the mesa, but they were large and likely designed to be scaled by mechs. Progress up these would be slow and open to attack from the men above every step of the way. There was no cover available unless they brought it themselves.

  The Prophet sidled closer to him. "What think you?"