Atlas

by Isaac Hooke

  The enemy mech fired off its lateral jets, struggling to bring its gatling to bear.

  I tightened my orbit and, as expected, the bursts of gatling bullets the thing launched weren't even on the same three-dimensional plane.

  The gunfire sent the possessed ATLAS spinning away again.

  I was forced to compensate, but sooner than I expected I came up behind the mech.

  I wrapped my legs around its waist from behind. The possessed ATLAS bucked and thrusted. It felt like I was riding a bronco. In space.

  I tore out the lines that ran between its fuel canisters and the jets.

  I was about to release the possessed mech and give it a good kick, but at that moment it discarded its gatling and clamped its arms tightly around my legs, securing me to its waist.

  It was my turn to buck and thrust, but I couldn't get the possessed ATLAS to release me: It had realized I'd disabled its only form of locomotion, and there was no way it was letting go now.

  The two of us were spinning on an odd axis, and the stars seemed to be orbiting around us in a helical pattern. I was feeling more nauseous than ever, and did my best to focus on the enemy mech below me.

  That's when I saw the blue mist.

  The Phant had decided to abandon the Bravo ATLAS. The mech still had its arms firmly clamped about my legs, and no matter how hard I tried to break loose, I couldn't budge.

  The mist floated toward Ladybug, steadfast, single-minded.

  I tried thrusting myself free. No use. I merely dragged the lifeless ATLAS, and the mist, along with me.

  I was locked in.

  The Phant was going to take Ladybug.

  Well, if the damn thing wanted my mech so badly, it could have it.

  I turned all thrusters to full burn, intending to exhaust Ladybug's fuel supply. Then I locked in the controls and opened the cockpit.

  The vision feed from the mech winked out and the inner cocoon released me. What I would have given in that moment for a pistol to blow out the brain case...

  The hatch, unaided by gravity, had opened just a crack. I pushed on it, but could only force it to a maximum of forty-five degrees, because the hatch lodged against the bulging jetpack of the other mech beneath me.

  I squeezed through the opening, passing dangerously close to the blue mist as it transferred into Ladybug.

  I was halfway through when I got stuck.

  I retreated a handspan, and tried again.

  No good.

  There was only one way I was fitting through that half-open hatch.

  I unbuckled my jetpack. I disconnected my life support subsystem. I slid both assemblies away from my jumpsuit, and into the cockpit.

  I tried again. There, that did it.

  I wiggled through the hatch and out into the void, being careful not to lose physical contact with the mech. I grabbed the hatch, and turned myself around to retrieve the items I would need to live—

  The hatch abruptly sealed shut.

  The Phant had taken over.

  Ladybug batted me away, launching me into the void.

  "Suit oxygen level fifty percent," the friendly voice in my helmet intoned.

  Looking down between my feet, I watched Ladybug and the other mech recede. The fuel burn ceased. Ladybug's lateral thrusters activated, and the ATLAS turned slightly, aiming for a distant target I couldn't see from this angle. The Royal Fortune, probably.

  Ladybug's fuel hadn't run out, then.

  Damn.

  "Suit oxygen level twenty-five percent," the voice in my helmet cheerily intoned.

  A blur streamed past. It struck the mechs.

  I was blinded by the flash. It had to be a torpedo from the Royal Fortune.

  The shockwave from the expanding gases of the explosion sent me tumbling end-over-end.

  Watching those stars spin by was just too dizzying. I closed my eyes.

  "Black Cadillac this is Rage," I sent on all frequencies. "Do you copy? Over."

  Static.

  "Black Cadillac, this is Rage. Requesting pickup. Over."

  Nothing.

  "Black Cadillac, this is Rage. Over."

  So this was it. I remembered what the Chief had told me about the Captain not ordering the Royal Fortune back if I went outside now, this close to the Gate. "He's not going to stop," the Chief had said. "You go out there, we're not waiting for you." I hadn't really believed it. I was sure Tahoe, or someone, anyone, would come back for me. No MOTH ever left another MOTH behind.

  But I was wrong, apparently.

  If he were alive, Alejandro would have come back for me, regardless of his orders. I remember telling him that one day he wouldn't be able to protect me. Turned out I was right, for all the wrong reasons.

  So this was how it was going to end. At least I'd gone out on a high.

  "Suit oxygen level three percent," the voice in my helmet said.

  I heard a thud behind me, and I opened my eyes. "Alejandro?"

  My motion had stabilized, and my oxygen levels were in the green. The buckles of a jetpack were hanging from my waist. I fastened them, and applied lateral thrust to turn around.

  Shaw was there, in a jumpsuit. Tethered to a shuttle. "Need some help?"

  I was relieved and angry at the same time. "Why didn't you say anything all this time?"

  "What, and ruin the surprise?"

  We latched on to a small hook at the top of the shuttle's fuselage, and hitched a ride as the pilot brought us back to the Royal Fortune. I was too exhausted, emotionally and physically, for much talk. But I was curious about one thing.

  "Who's piloting?" I asked her.

  "The AI."

  The shuttle steered toward the Royal Fortune's secondary hangar bay because of the damage to the main, and then Shaw beckoned toward the open doors. "After you."

  There wasn't much fuel in the pack she'd given me, and I used up the last of it jetting inside. The abrupt change in gravity caught me off guard and I ended up tumbling to the deck.

  I climbed to my feet and turned around, expecting to find Shaw right behind me.

  She wasn't.

  Nor was she latched on to the shuttle anymore. The craft had turned around, and was drifting away.

  I suppressed a sudden panic. Had the Phant gotten to her, and taken over the shuttle?

  "Shaw, where are you?" I sent over the helmet comm.

  "Everything's fine, Rade. I'm in the shuttle."

  That's when I noticed the full complement of hellfire missiles underneath the shuttle's wings. That meant she was the one who had fired the missile that had taken out the mechs. That also meant...

  "Rade," she said over the comm. "I have to stay behind. I tried telling you before—"

  "What are you talking about? Stay behind?"

  "It's my job to blow the Gate on this side."

  I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

  "No." I shook my head. "Why would the Captain order you to do this? Why not someone else? I can do it."

  "The Captain didn't order me, Rade. I volunteered. Actually, we all did. The bridge crew I mean. We drew straws. I got the short one. It makes the most sense, anyway. I'm the best pilot, and the best on the weapons systems. It should be me."

  I slumped to the deck.

  First Alejandro, and now her.

  Why did I have to lose everyone I ever cared about?

  I stared at the receding shuttle. I wasn't going to give up, not yet. If there was a chance I could convince her to turn around, I had to take it. Besides, I was due an explanation at least. "There are explosive charges set up all over the Gate. Ready to detonate, with timers that are remotely activated. Why do you have to stay?"

  "So, here's the thing. Those EM pulses from the Skull ship haven't let up, and they're traveling system-wide. The electronics in the timers were designed for cosmic background rad, not constant bombardment from EMPs. It just wasn't something we could plan for. The timers stopped working a few weeks ago."

  Electromagnetic energy. When y
ou sent current through a wire, that wire developed a magnetic field. When you moved a magnetic field across a wire, it induced a current in that wire. EMP weapons operated under the latter principle, inducing massive currents in remote electronics, burning them out. Such weapons were relatively commonplace in this day and age, which is why sensitive components like IC circuits and transistors were protected with "glass switches," solid state devices that opened a path to ground in overvoltage scenarios. Unfortunately these otherwise unshielded switches could fail under constant EMP stress, especially the smaller, lower-rated ones that had smaller substrates available for current and heat dissipation.

  "Why not just set some more charges, then?" I said.

  "I wish we could. But we've run out of time."

  "What are you talking about? That Skull ship is way back at the planet. There are no weapons pursuing us. Of course we have time." No answer. "The Skull ship is still at the planet, isn't it?"

  "No." Shaw sounded weary. "The Captain didn't want to alarm the crew. The ship has been following us, mirroring our heading and speed, for the past few weeks."

  "What? 'The Captain didn't want to alarm the crew.' Ridiculous. We're spec-ops, it takes a lot more than that to frighten us. I can't believe you kept us in the dark."

  "Hey, take it up with the Captain."

  So the Skull ship had been following us the whole time, and she knew. Now that I thought about it, Shaw had seemed distracted these past few weeks, but I'd been too consumed by grief, locked in my own world of self-pity and guilt, to notice.

  "The ship is about two hours behind us," Shaw continued. "And we have reason to believe they could easily close that gap. It's funny, but it's almost like the ship is escorting us, or egging us on. Like they want to see us through the Gate. I suppose they wanted their little spy to make it into our space. Or maybe they were following the Phant's signature. I really don't know. Anyway, now you understand why we can't delay. We have to do this, and we have to do it right now."

  Still I refused to back down. "Let the shuttle's AI do the dirty work. There's no reason you have to stay behind and babysit it."

  "Isn't there? Would you really trust an AI under the circumstances? With that Phant floating out there, ready to take over the shuttle? The hellfire didn't destroy it, you know. Just the mechs. And what about that Skull ship, ready to close the distance in a moment's notice? No, this is something that only a human being can do."

  I sighed. "I don't know. This is... it's just crazy. What happens if that ship closes the distance like you say? And attacks you when we're gone?"

  "I'm trained in evasive maneuvers. I'll survive. Long enough to blow up the Gate, anyway."

  I swallowed. "What happened to never leaving anyone behind?"

  "Sometimes it can't be helped, you know that," she said. "Don't you remember in Basic, sometimes one of us would have to stay behind and manually seal a hatch to save the rest of the crew in a sinking ship? Well, I'm the one staying behind and sealing that hatch."

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Just like Alejandro did for Tahoe and me.

  "Can't the Royal Fortune just launch a few torpedoes at the Gate?" I said. "I'm sure we can time it so that the torpedoes strike before we're through."

  "We could. But the timing has to be perfect. We'd put the whole crew at risk. Given the choice between sacrificing one person and one shuttle, or risking the whole ship, the Captain chose to sacrifice the one. Wouldn't you?"

  I still wouldn't give in. "What about mines?" I was grasping at straws now. "Can't we launch some timer mines, and set them to destroy the Gate behind us? There's enough shielding in a mine to easily withstand EMPs."

  "If this was a Navy warship, maybe. But the Royal Fortune is a jury-rigged privateer. We're not carrying any mines, Rade."

  "What if—"

  "Rade! We've considered every possibility!" I was stunned by the ferocity in her voice. When she spoke again, her tone was gentler. "Rade. I have to stay behind. It's up to me to destroy the Gate. I'm sorry."

  "So am I. Because I'm coming with you." The hangar doors were still open, just as if the Chief had wanted to give me that very opportunity. "I'm just going to get some fuel for this jetpack, and—"

  "Don't you dare," Shaw sent over the comm. "I'm launching my full complement of hellfires the instant the Royal Fortune is through the Gate. If you're out there in a jumpsuit, the shockwaves from the explosion will rip you apart." She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. "Look. I purposely drained most of the fuel from that pack. I want you to stay behind. One of us has to survive. One of us has to go on living. And that's you, Rade. It has to be you."

  I suddenly felt extremely tired, like I was holding up the weight of the world, and I couldn't do it anymore. I lowered myself until I lay prostate on the deck. I was still staring at the shuttle, which was about the size of my thumbnail now.

  "You can do this Rade," Shaw continued. There was a lot of static on the comm, and her words cut in and out, but it didn't matter because I understood everything—I knew her so well, and was so used to her voice and her every nuance of tone, that even when I missed part of a word, I knew exactly what she had meant to say. "You're strong. The strongest of us all. If anyone can get through this, it's you." She laughed then. A sad laugh. Full of regret. "Look at me, trying to comfort you, when I'm the one who's going to die alone, 8,000 lightyears from home. I'm scared, Rade. I'm going to miss you. Miss everything."

  "Please Shaw. Don't do this." But I knew she had to. For the ship.

  For humanity.

  "Goodbye Rade. It was good being with you. Really good."

  "Shaw..."

  "Remember me in the deepest, darkest hours, when you think you can't go on. Remember me in the storm, when—"

  The comm filled with uninterrupted static.

  The Royal Fortune had passed through the Gate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  When I finally got back to Earth, the Brass tried to give me the Navy Cross.

  What an insult.

  I told them three of my friends had died because of me.

  I didn't deserve a metal for that.

  My friends were the ones who gave their lives for me.

  My friends were the ones who deserved the Navy Cross.

  I lived, and I wasn't about to dishonor their memory by accepting some cheap, political bauble for surviving them.

  A piece of metal wasn't going to bring them back.

  Nothing would.

  * * *

  Some months later reports began to trickle in from Tau Ceti: The 50,000-megaton nuke payload that mined the natural exit point of the Geronium Slipstream had detonated.

  Something had tried to pass through.

  Foreign matter was detected amongst the debris in the aftermath of the explosion, and whatever had attempted entry was presumed destroyed.

  The SKs quietly dispatched their imperial minelayers and the entire area was re-mined with fresh nukes. SK battlecruisers were deployed to provide a constant watch.

  Nothing further attempted to pass through that Slipstream. The region remained silent.

  The message was clear, however:

  We know about you.

  And we are coming.

  It was difficult to keep a 50,000-megaton explosion hidden, given the technology available to professional and armchair astronomers alike, and theories spread like wildfire across the Undernet. Eventually, word got out about our secret mission, and what we had seen. Pictures were shared of the black, skull-shaped ship, known as the "Great Death." Stories were told of the armies of hideous beings, and the Yaoguai—demons from the underworld with a particular appetite for the souls of men.

  Doomsayers spread the word: It was the end of humankind's glorious expansion to the stars. The end of life as we knew it.

  We'd awakened something on the far side of the galaxy that we should've left well alone. We'd stepped too far. Aimed too high. And the "Great Death" was going to come for us. Eventually.

&nbs
p; Maybe they were right. Maybe humankind was doomed.

  Maybe not.

  But if the invaders did come, I knew it was only a matter of time, months, maybe years, before the MOTHs were called in. But we would be summoned, in the end. It was inevitable.

  I was ready.

  I'm Rade Galaal.

  I've come a long ways from the barrio I grew up in.

  And I'm a MOTH, now.

  I pilot ATLAS mechs.

  Let the enemies of humanity come.

  Because when they do, there'll be hell to pay.

  EPILOGUE

  I opened my eyes.

  My fingers fumbled in the shadows, and I found the water canister.

  I took a long sip, then checked the craft's power cells. Thirty percent.

  I adjusted the window's opacity dial, letting the sunlight pour inside, then I went through the daily ritual of donning my jumpsuit. When I sealed the helmet and activated the oxygen supply, I took a long inhale of the iron-smelling air.

  While my body acclimated to the internal environment, I went to the pile of thick pelts I'd collected and started securing them to the suit's outer layer. The jumpsuits could adapt in coloration to match any terrain of course, but I wanted actual fur. It confused the hybears sometimes.

  When the acclimation period was over, I depressurized the compartment and lowered the ramp. I walked from my metal prison to the bigger prison of the outside world.

  I stood at the bottom of one of the deep valleys that carved through the planet's surface. This valley lay along the equator, and I had named it the Main Rift. One of the nice things about the location, other than the relatively balmy temperatures, was that the radiation levels were low.

  The long Forma pipe in the distance belched oxygen into the air. Not that it helped. The atmosphere wasn't breathable, and wouldn't be for a long while yet. Nor was the atmospheric pressure anywhere near Earth's.

  Ahh, terraforming.

  Would that it were faster.

  Still, the Forma pipe did have a more immediate use: Whenever I needed to refill my oxygen tanks, that chimney was just half-a-day's hike away.