Mech Wars: The Complete Series

by Scott Bartlett

Lisa glanced over her shoulder at the aliens gathered in the cavern, who’d begun to murmur among themselves in their strange language, which reminded her of both purring and growling at the same time.

  I wonder whether I convinced them.

  Chapter 36

  Scratching an Itch

  The drift that had captured Lisa and her companions deliberated for a long time, and without access to her translator, Rug wasn’t able to fill Lisa in on the proceedings.

  All the Quatro could do was stare at her meaningfully, except her expressions didn’t actually mean anything to Lisa, because they belonged to an alien whose body language she was still a long way from deciphering, despite their close friendship.

  At last, the Quatro stepped forward who’d spoken to her through the bars of her former cell—and possibly her future cell, depending on what was about to happen.

  The approaching Quatro appeared to be the leader of this drift. Lisa knew the Quatro weren’t supposed to have leaders, but apparently they’d abandoned the “Quatro way,” so maybe that meant they did other things differently, too.

  “Your words have moved us,” the Quatro said when it neared. “Not only to join your fight, but to send runners to the other drifts in this area, who until now have shared our attitude toward the unrest in the west. Hopefully, if our messengers convey your words as effectively as you spoke them, we can sway them, too.”

  “Hopefully,” Tessa said, then stalked off.

  Grimacing, Lisa thanked the Quatro and then ran after the white-haired woman.

  “Tessa. Wait.”

  “Why?” Tessa said without turning or slowing. “You’ve achieved everything you set out to achieve, using everything I’ve taught you. What more do we have to say to each other?”

  “Will you stop?” Lisa said, her voice coming out sharper than she’d meant it to.

  Tessa whirled around, her arms crossed, glaring. “Well?”

  Stopping a few meters away from Tessa, Lisa studiously kept her hands at her sides, though her impulse was to cross them as well.

  “I should hope we have plenty more to say to each other, Tessa. We’re friends, and we’ve been friends for a long time.”

  “We haven’t acted like friends. Not since…”

  “Not since I learned yet another secret about you?”

  Tessa’s head jerked. “What do you mean, another—”

  “I mean that we’re supposed to be friends, close friends, and yet you failed to tell me two things that are probably among the most important facts about you. Back in Habitat 2, I learned you worked for Three Points, and I overlooked that you kept that from me, even though we’d spent so much time together. And when we arrived on Eresos, I learned that you helped Darkstream frame the Quatro as ruthless killers. It’s not the fact that you did that which bothers me, Tessa—the past is the past, and I understand that you’ve changed over the last twenty years. It’s the fact that, after everything we’ve gone through together…almost dying on Alex, imprisoned by aliens we didn’t even know were there, retaking Habitat 2 from Daybreak, defeating Darkstream to escape to Eresos…even after all that, it still took Gabriel Roach for me to learn the truth about you.”

  Tessa’s face had turned scarlet, and Lisa felt sure she was about to explode. If Tessa did that, she wasn’t sure they could go on being friends, no matter how much Lisa liked her.

  If, after I bare my heart to her, she lambastes me…

  But Tessa didn’t do that. Instead, she took several deep breaths, and gradually, the color drained from her face, restoring it to what Lisa was pretty sure was her regular color—it was difficult to tell in the gloom of the tunnel.

  “You’re right, Lisa,” the older woman said at last. “That’s hard for me to say, because I’m not using to being wrong. I’m used to being surrounded by idiots. But…you’re right. And I’m sorry.”

  Lisa stepped forward to embrace her friend, and Tessa allowed it, which she also hadn’t expected.

  They drew apart, and Lisa cast her eyes down at the tunnel floor. “I haven’t behaved very well, either,” she said. “The strain of command has been getting to me, and I’ve been taking it out on you. That wasn’t right, no matter how upset I was with you. I’m sorry, too.”

  “Hey,” Tessa said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We forgive each other. Now let’s put it behind us and go put down Darkstream. That’s an itch I’ve been waiting a long time to scratch.”

  A smile crept over Lisa’s face. “You got it.”

  Chapter 37

  Data Dump

  Ash sifted through the data dump DuGalle had sent her, using a panel in the upper left of her vision to process its contents as best she could.

  Unfortunately, most of her attention was demanded by tracking Roach and navigating through the forest; taking care not to barrel into a tree big enough to repel her MIMAS.

  Roach, it seemed, didn’t have that problem. Whereas before, when he’d run alongside Oneiri through the woods, he’d chosen his path with care, now it seemed erratic.

  They found several thick trees that were little more than cracked-off stumps, with the rest of the tree obliterated. The juggernaut that was the alien mech was powerful enough that nothing seemed able to stop it.

  What information Ash’s fragmented attention did allow her to glean from DuGalle’s transfer disturbed her deeply.

  When she’d seen enough, she used her implant to contact Bronson, which she’d been putting off.

  “Sweeney,” he said as he appeared beside her, darting through the trees. “What do you have for me?”

  What do I have for you, Bronson? It was a fine question, and it would be some time before she fully developed the answer.

  “Roach betrayed us,” she said. “He murdered Richaud, in the middle of a battle.”

  “God. Seriously?” Bronson did a good job of feigning shock and distress as he ran alongside her in the dream, but Ash knew that any negative reaction he had to the news would be limited to how it would look on the company’s ledger.

  “Yes, Captain. Really.”

  “Well, where’s Roach now?”

  “En route to the nearest village, it seems. We’re following him.”

  “Good. Definitely keep doing that.” Bronson palmed something from his cheek. “He has to be stopped. This could easily turn into a PR disaster if we don’t deal with it early.”

  “Not to mention the lives that will likely be lost.”

  “Yes, another tragedy, to be sure.” Bronson’s likeness seemed distracted, as though the actual Bronson was focusing on something else while he spoke with Ash. “Two reserve battalions are already in the area, and I’m sending them to rendezvous with you at…River Rock, I’m guessing? Seems to make sense, judging by your trajectory, which will take you out of the Glades and toward the edge of the Barrens. Is River Rock right, Sweeney?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Perfect. I’d advise against engaging until they’ve joined you.”

  “And what do you plan to do in the meantime, sir?”

  “Huh?” Bronson blinked up at her. “Me? I’m working on a way to beat the machines, Sweeney. There have been a dozen more reports from all over the region of Gatherers attacking residents. If this becomes a pattern, we’re going to have a real Charlie Foxtrot on our hands.”

  “Yeah.” Ash paused to consider what her next words should be.

  “Will that be all, Seaman?”

  “Well, it looks like Red Company has disbanded.”

  “That’s welcome news. I needed that. How’d you come across it?”

  “I spoke to their leader. He was at Peppertree, during the Quatro attack. He…” Ash drew a breath.

  “Something on your mind, Sweeney?”

  “Sir, he told me that Darkstream started the war with the Quatro. He said we paid Red Company to put on company uniforms and attack them, and afterward, we paid them to deliver arms to the aliens.”

  “Oh? Well, I wouldn’t know anythin
g about that. Must have been another department.”

  Abruptly, Ash stopped running to stare at Bronson.

  His simulacrum stopped too, smiling up at her. “That was a joke, Sweeney. Obviously I don’t know about it, because it didn’t happen.”

  She shook her head, not sure what to think, or to say. At last, she found words: “He gave me documents to back up what he said.”

  “Then they’re forged. Darkstream wouldn’t do something like that, Sweeney. You know that.”

  Ash studied Bronson’s face. Could he really be that masterful at lying? Or could the documents actually have been forged? Certainly, the technology existed to do that, but a data dump this size would have taken weeks of nonstop work to concoct. She supposed it was possible, but Red Company had had limited resources as it was, and she wasn’t sure they’d have had access to the sophisticated tech required to forge video and audio. Besides, if they’d wanted to damage Darkstream’s reputation, a single, well-executed video would have sufficed. The sheer number of documents DuGalle had given her spoke of truth.

  “Are we going to have a problem, here, Sweeney?” Bronson said, the mirth draining from his voice.

  She returned his gaze, her mind racing. Bronson was hailed as a hero throughout the Steele System. He was the man who’d bested the authoritarian Captain Keyes; the man who’d led a battle group of rogue UHF warships away from the Milky Way’s tyrannical Commonwealth; and also the one who’d secured Darkstream’s transition into this galaxy.

  Bronson was also the man who’d conquered Eresos for use by Darkstream colonists.

  But maybe the popular portrayal had Bronson exactly backward. Maybe he’d accomplished everything through manipulation instead of the bravery and sacrifice everyone attributed to him. The idea seemed as unlikely a proposition as DuGalle’s entire data dump being faked, but maybe that was only because Bronson commanded such respect.

  In one sense, the idea he’s a snake is much, much simpler.

  “Sweeney?”

  “We don’t have a problem, Captain. I’ll lead Oneiri on to River Rock. But we’d better get going.” She gestured with a giant metal hand at the path ahead, where the rest of Oneiri had stopped to peer back at her. “Otherwise, we’ll risk losing Roach’s trail.”

  “You do that,” Bronson said, and his eyes were narrowed as he flickered out of existence.

  Chapter 38

  The Debt

  Jake knew the physics checked out: with the distances involved, blowing up Comet Three’s artificial sun should not have negatively affected the environments inside the surrounding comets. Even if the radiation had reached them, the thirty meters of soil would have been more than enough to soak it up.

  Even so, he still insisted that Pichenko check the comet’s radiation levels. The last thing his conscience needed was the slimmest chance he’d exposed his sister to even more radiation, let alone his mother and the rest of Comet Four’s inhabitants.

  When the tests came back normal, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

  But that was hardly the only thing bothering him.

  The fight with the alien mechs played over and over again in his mind, both while sleeping and awake.

  It wasn’t the combat itself that got to him most, though that had come pretty close to ending him.

  No, the most disturbing thing was the part he still had to contend with, on an ongoing basis: the dark whispers the mech continued to feed his mind whenever he was inside it.

  He had no one he could talk to about it; no one who would understand the torment, the constant darkness involved with being inside the mech.

  The knowledge that if he was going to protect his family and his friends through whatever was happening to the Steele System, he would need the mech…

  It made his throat clench whenever he thought about it.

  He couldn’t talk to his mother about it. She would tell him to stop using it, end-of-conversation. Jake knew that wasn’t an option, but for Brianne Price, even that wouldn’t matter. The safety of her children was paramount, and every other consideration was subordinate to it.

  Neither could he talk about it to his father. Aside from the ten-minute delay their conversation would suffer from, telling Peter would only cause him to worry more than he already did, and he worried a lot.

  Who could understand the unending torment Jake endured? Who could relate to the awareness that the torment might never end—that moving forward meant contending with it, day after day, possibly for the rest of his life?

  Then, as he walked alone through the fields of Comet Four, which were greening once again, the answer came to him:

  Sue Anne. Sue Anne would understand.

  But no. He couldn’t possibly discuss this with his sister. She had enough darkness in her life to grapple with.

  And yet…he’d had nothing to talk to her about before. Nothing had seemed real enough.

  This was certainly real.

  And if he wanted to feel comfortable talking to his sister…wanted to show that, on some abstract level, he could relate to her situation…

  He knew it was awful. But he went to her all the same.

  His mother and his sister were still at Pichenko’s house, even though they’d discovered that many other Comet Four homes were vacant as well.

  Pichenko had grimaced when Jake had raised the specter of his family moving into one of them. “Pardon me if this is callous, Jake, but the last thing your family needs is to stay in a home belonging to the recently deceased. It’s the last thing I need, for that matter. No. They must remain in mine. I am more than comfortable in the Council Chambers.”

  Jake nodded at his mother when he entered the house, and she glanced up from some reading, smiling halfheartedly before returning to it.

  He smiled back, hoping his expression looked more genuine than hers, and he continued through the house…to the sick room.

  When he opened the door, he found his sister asleep, and he settled into the rocking chair beside her bed as silently as he could.

  Even so, the chair creaked, and Sue Anne’s eyes fluttered open. They found him.

  “Jake?” she rasped.

  There was a note of surprise in her voice, and that killed him. He knew it belonged there, though. He’d been avoiding this room, spending much longer periods out searching the other comets for survivors than he should reasonably have expected of himself, of which his mother continually reminded him.

  “Hi, Sue Anne,” he said.

  “Something’s bothering you. Isn’t it? Something big.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “How can you tell?”

  “When you spend months at a time in bed, you get really good at reading the people who visit you.”

  “That makes sense,” he said, and then he sighed. “I…I haven’t visited you. Not nearly enough. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I understand.”

  Jake returned her gaze, and he could see that she did understand—fully. That made it even worse.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you,” she said.

  “It’s that, uh, that thing I pilot.” For some reason, saying the words ‘alien mech’ out loud felt a little ridiculous. “It’s getting to me. To be honest, it scares me.”

  Sue Anne shook her head a little against the pillow, and even that seemed to require a tremendous effort. “Why?”

  “It keeps trying to…to tempt me.”

  “It’s sentient?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s something. Possessed, maybe.” He laughed, though he wasn’t sure he was joking. “It whispers to me. Keeps asking me to join with it. I don’t know what it means by that, exactly, but it seems like a bad idea. On the other hand, I keep getting this idea that if I give in, I’ll become even better equipped to fight the things that attacked Hub. And maybe, if I’m quick enough, I can help save Eresos from them, too.”

  “You must not give in, Jake.”

  Studying her gaunt face, he said, “Why do you say that? Wha
t could you possibly know about it?”

  “I know that you just said it’s a bad idea. You’ve spent a long time inside it, by now. You have a lot of experience with that thing, and you’re my brother, and I trust your judgment.”

  He nodded. “Thanks. But, Sue Anne…I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out against it.”

  “Listen to me,” Sue Anne hissed, and genuine anger filled her voice. “Are you listening, Jake?”

  “Yes…yes. I’m listening.”

  “Good. Because what I’m about to say is very important. For most of my life, I’ve dealt with more pain than you can imagine. I don’t care what Darkstream did to you in training. I don’t care what you’ve encountered in battle. All I have to do is take one look at you to tell that you haven’t encountered a fraction of the pain that I have, on a daily basis, for years and years and years. Are you following me?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, and his voice was barely audible, even to him.

  “Good. Then I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you that the pain I’ve experienced makes life not worth living.”

  “Sue Anne—”

  “Shut up. I’m not kidding. It’s not worth it, to live like this. I would honestly rather be dead. So, why do I cling to life, when I could have stopped fighting at any second? When I could have let my sickness take me and it all would have ended?”

  Sue Anne’s eyes held his gaze as they burned with more energy than he would have thought possible. He didn’t dare speak.

  “Jake, I clung to life because I could see how important it was to mom, to dad, and to you that I go on living. I saw how hard you all worked on the fantasy that you could somehow save me from this dragon that has been ravaging my body since I was five. I did it for you, Jake. For you.” If Sue Anne’s illness hadn’t dramatically diminished her voice, she would have been shouting, now.

  “So when you hear that thing’s voice calling to you, beckoning to you to give in, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to remember me, fighting to live, despite how badly I wanted to die. I want you to remember how much you owe me. How deeply in debt you are to me—a debt you can never, ever repay, except by continuing to resist that voice, forever.”