Mech Wars: The Complete Series

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Mech Wars: The Complete Series Page 48

by Scott Bartlett

She turned back to Roach, who’d stopped just beyond the village green, standing perfectly immobile in that somewhat creepy way he had.

  Neither of them said anything.

  Slowly, Ash turned to see how the other MIMAS pilots were reacting.

  They were also standing stock-still, and though Ash couldn’t see their expressions, she’d become accustomed enough to their body language while inside the mechs that she could tell they felt as shocked as she did.

  Marco was the first to speak:

  “The ramifications of this…they really, really don’t look good.”

  You said a mouthful.

  Chapter 24

  Crescendo

  Something strange happened when Jake beheld the ruins of his childhood home.

  As he was beginning to become accustomed to, the alien mech dream represented his anguish in a number of novel ways. In addition to the rising minor note played by a long-neglected violin, it also treated him to the sensation of bugs crawling all over his skin, coating him completely. Writhing there, as though they were a second suit that separated his physical body from the mech.

  That caused his anguish to spike even more, which in turn caused the piercing violin note to crescendo more sharply, and it granted the insects tiny pincers, which they used to dig up small scoops of his skin, in a journey toward his organs that would be as slow as it was painful.

  To top it all off, the dream granted him the sensation of breathing great lungfuls of tear gas.

  The feedback loop continued for some time, resisting his every effort to arrest its escalation.

  Finally, he lost control entirely. He charged across the gently curving terrain in great leaps and bounds, straight toward his wrecked childhood home.

  His mounting rage and torment obliterated all thought, all consciousness, even though he remained aware of everything he was doing.

  The main difference was that he was no longer the one piloting the mech. Nor was the mech piloting itself—instead, his raging emotions alone steered his actions. In part, he was fleeing those emotions, and in larger part, he was channeling them.

  The Ravagers began to notice his charge, and as they did they scampered across the fields toward him. They, too, appeared to enjoy gravity inside the comet.

  Some of the robots directly overhead used their powerful legs to try leaping past the artificial sun, in an attempt to skip the terrain they’d otherwise have to cross to reach Jake. The first few that tried it were jerked downward again by gravity.

  Then, one of them made it—it jumped high enough to reach the tip of the spire that held the artificial sun aloft, so that gravity reversed its pull, sending the Ravager hurtling toward Jake.

  His right arm became a massive pillar, which he swung in a broad arc, connecting with the robot as it fell and pulverizing it into fine dust.

  The insects had acquired stingers in addition to their pincers, and they put them to use immediately, driving them into Jake’s flesh at random intervals. The stingers seemed to produce a small quantity of venom—at least, if the subcutaneous fire Jake experienced was any indication.

  Casting his gaze wildly around him, Jake saw that dozens more Ravagers raced across the comet toward him, along with several more who leapt against the gravity, attempting the same trick his first attacker had managed.

  Within seconds, dozens of Ravagers became hundreds.

  Where are they all coming from?

  Had they been hiding inside the dying woods? Were they burrowed inside the thirty meters of soil that separated the comet’s living space and its icy exterior, providing nutrients for crops and protecting against space radiation?

  It was a mystery he lacked the time to solve. The first wave of Ravagers hit him, and he became a windmill of death, four blades protruding from him to slice through robot after robot as he spun around and around. Some of them disintegrated as the first one had, and others merely exploded to send machine parts hurtling across the land, each arm or leg or elbow or servomotor flying like a baseball hit by a home-run slugger.

  More Ravagers hit him from above, then, and Jake retracted the blades so that he could bring his hands into play once again, though enlarged slightly, making it all the easier to crush the robots the moment he caught them.

  If he only crushed them a little, he could flick them at other oncoming robots, channeling all of his rancor into the throw and causing both robots involved to rupture in a fantastic blizzard of metal fragments.

  Eventually, he killed enough Ravagers that they came to respect him, despite their kamikaze tendencies. They waited for their fellows to arrive, now, bunching together, no doubt in the hopes of overwhelming Jake in a single unified flood.

  He would not have it. Instead, he ordered his arms to become cannons that were disproportionate with his body. In truth, they were ridiculously large, but it was also what his disproportionate emotions called for just then.

  He began to blast the Ravagers, each shot representing incredible overkill. Every thick bolt of energy took out not only the target but several around it, leaving wide craters in the ground.

  The thought occurred to Jake that he risked blowing holes in the comet itself, creating more openings to the void beyond. If he did that, he would make it harder for any survivors to turn the comet back into something that resembled their home.

  There are no survivors, something whispered into his ear, and this time he was certain it wasn’t his own thought, even though he acknowledged the truth of what it said. There’s only you and the death you deal. You’ll die too, soon enough, but your death will be worthy.

  Jake didn’t die—not then, anyway. He couldn’t have said how long it took, but he managed to clear all of the Ravagers, and when the task was done he collapsed to the ground, the alien mech curling into a tight ball, clutching itself as the insects and the heat and the minor note overcame everything.

  After an eternity, the pain subsided, and the insects receded into whatever dimension they’d come from.

  Wearily, Jake dragged himself to his feet to trudge across the comet, across fields and through withering woods, until he arrived at the hidden emergency shelter that he knew was located near the Council chambers.

  He used his implant to submit his identity as a native of this comet to the computer. It recognized him, and the wide, horizontal entrance slid open to admit him into the airlock, the grassy field that covered it splitting in two.

  Gently, he lowered his mech into the chamber below. He had to crouch to allow the hatch to close again, and when it did, the chamber pressurized, filling with oxygen.

  “Let me out,” he ordered the mech.

  Nothing happened.

  “Let me out!”

  It heeded him, this time, though he wasn’t sure what had been different about his second request. A ramp lowered from the front of the mech, just as it had before, and Jake crawled out.

  He used his implant to order the inner airlock door to lower—this one was vertical, and it led into the emergency shelter that served as the last resort for residents.

  When the hatch sank low enough, it revealed the face of Brianne Price, her lower lip trembling.

  “Jake,” she mouthed, though he couldn’t hear her voice over the clank of the hatch.

  At last, it was open, and he ran to her.

  Chapter 25

  Definitely Fearless

  Instead of searching the terrain surrounding the village, Roach decided they would remain to defend it instead.

  Well, actually, Ash and the others had lobbied him to stay here, and at last he relented.

  “It’s possible the Gatherer attack was a freak malfunction,” Ash had said. “And it may never happen again. But unlike the Amblers, they’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Inside his mech, Marco had nodded. “Plus, this was where we thought the Quatro were going to attack, and they still might. There haven’t been any reports of them striking anywhere else. So let them come here.”

  “
We’re ready for them, all right,” Henrietta said, raising her metal fists a little before dropping them by her sides once more.

  “Maybe we should contact Bronson,” Ash said. “About the Gatherers.”

  “Go ahead,” Roach said. “I’m done with that asshole.” With that, he walked away, headed for the perimeter of the village.

  “Uh…” Henrietta said, watching him go. “I assume he’s not going to leave on us?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ash said, also staring at the alien mech’s back. “I think he’s back with Oneiri for good.”

  “Our fearless leader once more,” Henrietta added.

  “He’s definitely fearless,” Richaud said, before sauntering away himself, in the opposite direction.

  Ash also left, strolling aimlessly throughout the village as she attempted to raise Bronson using her implant.

  Before long, the captain walked alongside her in the dream, looking minuscule beside her mech, though carrying himself no less confidently for that.

  “What can I do for you, Seaman Apprentice Sweeney?”

  She glanced down at him. “Isn’t it about time I got promoted to Seaman, sir?”

  Staring up at her, the corner of Bronson’s mouth quirked. “Processing promotions have gotten pushed to the back burner for now, I’m afraid. We’ve been unusually busy, lately.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, nodding, although the fact that she’d commanded Oneiri Team in Roach’s place seemed a little incongruous with her low rank. “I’m contacting you to report a strange incident with one of the Gatherers, here in Cordage. In short, it appeared to divert itself from the collection facility in order to randomly attack a resident.”

  “I see. Cordage doesn’t have a Darkstream contract. Did you know that?”

  “I…I’m afraid I don’t see how that’s relevant, sir.”

  “Well, I just think it would be useful for you to mention to them that if they had one, they wouldn’t have to worry about attacks, from Gatherers or from anyone else. They could rest easy, even after Oneiri Team leaves.”

  Ash paused. “Is that an order, sir?”

  “Sure. It’s an order.”

  “All right, then.” She resisted the urge to clear her throat, concerned it would serve as a vehicle for her true feelings about Bronson’s words. “How is Jake, sir?”

  “Price went rogue. I left him behind in the Belt.”

  She stopped walking. “You left him behind? How will he survive out there? Did you leave him with a shuttle and supplies? Does Darkstream have a jail out there, or something? What do you mean by ‘left behind,’ exactly?”

  Peering up at her, Bronson said, “What do you mean, sir.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m afraid the details of Price’s defection are classified.”

  The dream pulsed to reflect Ash’s accelerating heartbeat. “Sir…Jake Price is my teammate and my friend. I’d like to—”

  “He’s also the least of your concerns, Sweeney. You’re in the middle of a war. Time to get it together.”

  To that, she had no reply.

  “A report just came in that Peppertree is under attack by Quatro. That’s near you, meaning it’s almost certainly the group you recently encountered. Peppertree also doesn’t have a contract with Darkstream. In fact, they switched to one with Red Company—an arrangement that’s in the process of failing them. Your orders are to swoop in, save the day, and persuade the council there that renewing their contract with us is in their best interests. It’s a double win: we reclaim our contract and we send a message to other villages about who really has their backs.”

  Ash shook her head. “Sir…with everything that’s going on, is customer acquisition really our main concern, here?”

  “Our main concern, Sweeney, is a strong Darkstream, and this helps us reinforce that. A strong Darkstream means a stable system and a safe people. Have you forgotten that?”

  “No, sir,” Ash muttered.

  “Good. Now get going.”

  Chapter 26

  Peppertree

  Gabe had run out of time for Darkstream executives and officers, especially Captain Bob Bronson.

  Nevertheless, their interests coincided with his for now, and there was no use denying that. For differing reasons, they both wanted Quatro dead, and Gabe was happy to make that happen.

  So he didn’t argue when Sweeney came to him with the proposed mission.

  “Let’s go,” he said simply. “I want to leave now.”

  “Now” ended up meaning twenty minutes later, after Sweeney had gathered the rest of Oneiri from whatever parts of the village they’d wandered off to. They had to check over their mechs’ critical systems, as well.

  Gabe regarded them as they did so, remaining perfectly still, even though he felt excruciatingly restless.

  He did end up developing a reservation about the mission, though, and it came in the form of Jess, appearing to him for the first time since he’d fused with the alien mech.

  “Don’t go to that village,” Jess said, peering up at him, her face solemn.

  He didn’t react—he’d mastered his emotions better than that a long time ago, and he only ever reacted to stimulus he knew posed an immediate danger. No, he stayed just as steady and still as he had before.

  Unfortunately, his stillness did not reflect an inner calm. What was left of his human body—its circulatory system and its nervous system—pulsed with tension, and a chorus of whispers rose up, uttering a multitude of contradictory statements, trying to jerk him every which way and yet in no direction at all.

  “Well?” Jess asked. “Are you going to answer me? It’s impolite to ignore someone after they’ve given you a warning.”

  It occurred to Gabe, suddenly, that this mech he’d joined with might have been made by allies of the Quatro. What if it was designed to corrupt him—to lead him astray with hallucinations like this one, which resembled his lost love exactly?

  “You’re not there,” he ground out at last. “And you’re not Jess. You’re something that’s trying to stop me from getting my revenge.”

  With that, Jess vanished, and Gabe looked beyond the spot where she’d been standing, to the rest of Oneiri.

  They’d stopped whatever they’d been doing to stare at him. Sweeney’s and Beth’s heads were both cocked to the side.

  “Sir…?” Henrietta Jin said. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Gabe growled. “Are you ready or not?”

  “Ready, sir,” Richaud Lafontaine said, and the rest echoed the sentiment.

  “Then let’s go.”

  He took off into the woods, and his augmented hearing told him that behind him, the others followed, their footfalls displacing undergrowth and splintering roots.

  At a full-on run, it took them fewer than thirty minutes to reach the village whose council had elected to switch their defense contract from Darkstream over to Red Company.

  It wasn’t hard to discern how that was working out for them. Quatro surrounded the small glade where the village had been built, firing on the structures where Red Company fighters were huddled, doing their best to return fire in the face of the brutal onslaught.

  Oneiri Team got to work.

  Gabe had no qualms about attacking the Quatro before they knew of his presence, and he knew the MIMAS pilots wouldn’t, either. If a soldier didn’t capitalize on every last advantage that presented itself, he wouldn’t be doing his job.

  His entire frame became a spinning blade of razor sharpness, cutting through three Quatro who’d arranged themselves conveniently in a row. His edge laid them open, causing scarlet viscera to plop out onto the ground, and Gabe assumed a humanoid shape once again as he completed the attack.

  Too easy. Where are those quads?

  He cast about for them, wading through the ranks of Quatro, dispatching the unclad Quatro almost as an afterthought.

  If the Quatro had fled once again the moment they’d detected Oneiri’s presence, that
wouldn’t have surprised him. But they didn’t, and that did surprise him.

  Instead of retreating, they redoubled their efforts, tightening the noose around Peppertree, charging between the buildings to savage the Red Company fighters with massive fangs and claws.

  That only fed into Oneiri’s efforts, and they tightened a noose of their own, closing in on the Quatro ranks to continue eviscerating them.

  Still no quads to be found. Were they on the opposite side of the village? Why would they let their naked brethren fall in droves like this?

  He turned to give Lafontaine the order to loop around the village in an attempt to track down the quads.

  As he did, something shifted.

  Richaud Lafontaine became a Quatro, slavering with bloodlust.

  Suddenly, Gabe was back in Northshire.

  This time, he hadn’t arrived after the Quatro had finished with their slaughter.

  No, this time, he was here as they were carrying it out.

  Another key difference: Gabe wasn’t in his old body, as he had been at that time. For this do-over, he instead had access to the sheer might of the alien mech.

  Gabe’s arms became massive energy cannons, and he aimed them at the Quatro that Lafontaine had become.

  No. Stop this. This isn’t real.

  But it really did seem he was back on Northshire’s village green, just in front of the mayor’s residence. Jess Sweeney walked out of the front door, resplendent in her white summer dress.

  As Gabe tried to call to her, his voice catching in his throat, Jess descended the stairs from the porch and began to cross the village green.

  “Jess, no!” Gabe managed to cry, just as her eyes fell on the massive Quatro that awaited her.

  The beast charged, and Gabe opened fire with his energy cannons. Massive beams impacted with the Quatro’s flank, creating charred, gaping holes.

  The Quatro hit the dirt, unmoving, but another Quatro was running at Jess—this one with bright blue eyes. Gabe shifted his autocannons toward it.

  Wait. Quatro don’t have blue eyes.

  Everything flashed, the Northshire village green vanishing for a moment to reveal the battle around Peppertree.

 

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