PROLOGUE
Earth. Looks pretty from out here, doesn’t it? All blue and shiny and happy. But get up close, and it all falls apart. My generation, we were born into war. Into a world of chaos.
Something called the Breach opened up at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. A gateway to another dimension. Sounds cool, doesn’t it? Except on the other side is an alien race called the Precursors. They thought it’d be a laugh to send giant monsters through the Breach to say hello. We called those monsters Kaiju.
To fight them, we built our own monsters: Jaegers.
Jaegers were big bad metal machines—so big they needed two pilots to run them, with their minds connected together in the Drift.
Ten years ago, we sealed the Breach. We won the war.
But you wouldn’t know it by looking around. The Kaiju made every hit count. Coastal cities got it the worst. Now the relief zones are filled with folks just trying to get by, psycho cults that worship the Kaiju like they are gods or something, and homegrown gangsters slapping together their own junk Jaegers from stolen parts.
Anyone with money moved inland. Middle of Nowhere became the new Beverly Hills. Because everybody’s afraid of another breach opening up. Afraid of another Kaiju attack.
Which is cool with me. Because one man’s fear is another man’s opportunity. In the relief zones, you have to get creative. Out here, we place a different value on things. The Pan Pacific Defense Corps usually looks the other way—as long as you don’t go poking around where you don’t belong.
. . . Say, like a scrapyard of decommissioned Jaegers. But laying hands on their Jaeger tech is worth the risk. Good score will set you up for a year. And I got a knack for delivering for my customers . . .
. . . Most of the time.
Darkness engulfed the scrapyard, but Jake didn’t have to see the ground to know where he was going. It was all familiar to him at this point—the electric fence that sparked and hummed, the hole ripped into it that he could easily crawl through, and most of all, the fallen Jaeger bodies with their metal body parts littering the ground. Jake pulled out the plasma tracker from his jacket. He could feel Sonny and his men right behind him.
He quickly put his arm up to stop Sonny from walking forward. A PPDC security vehicle rumbled by. Jake shot Sonny a warning look. The area was heavily patrolled, and they needed to be careful. Suddenly, his plasma tracker pinged. Jake looked up at the remains of the Jaeger in front of them and smiled. He knew it would be here.
He yanked on the hidden release inside the panel, and grinned as the access door opened.
But the second he was inside, he knew something was wrong. Cables hung down from the ceiling. Electricity sparked at their ends. The plasma capacitor was gone!
CRACK! Sonny whipped Jake in the face with his handgun. Jake fell to the ground. The sting pulsed through his whole body.
“Kill him,” said Sonny, turning to leave.
Jake thumped his tracker and the screen flickered. It showed that the plasma capacitor was on the move. Somebody else was in there, and they had it.
He jumped up, quickly scrambling over the machine parts. He slipped through the doorway. One of Sonny’s men caught up to him, and Jake quickly laid him out. Then, he ran full tilt through the corridors.
He followed the signal on the tracker. He knew every inch of this scrapyard, but he also knew that if Sonny and his men caught him, this time they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. He dashed into a tunnel thick with power cables. He made his way through them, left and right until he was clear of the scrapyard.
Dawn was breaking over Santa Monica, California, as Jake ran. Sunrays gleamed against the broken-down machinery, dirty streets, and slums of a city that had once been beautiful. Now, it was a wasteland inhabited by those too poor to move away from the water. If the Kaiju attacked again, the homes on the coast would be the first destroyed.
Jake’s tracker pinged. He dashed up a hill of rubble and eyed the massive Kaiju bones that jutted out of the partially destroyed pier. His tracker locked onto an old shipyard down by the water. Gotcha!
Jake climbed into a grime-filled window and entered a building inside the shipyard. He looked at the room around him. There was a dirty mattress in the corner and food wrappers littered the floor, but the space was mostly full of junky old machine parts. The walls were plastered with images of Jaegers and Kaiju. Whoever lived here also had a thing for Shao Liwen. Clippings on the wall tracked her career from young computer genius to the head of the multibillion dollar company named after her: Shao Industries.
Jake’s eyes fell on a faded Time magazine cover with Raleigh Becket’s face on it, and the years of his birth and death: 1998–2026. Jake stopped the sadness from rising in his chest. He was here for a reason.
He reached the main floor. There, in the middle of the room, was some kind of machine. It looked like a . . . like a homemade Jaeger. It was nearly four stories tall and cobbled together with mismatched parts. Jake’s tracker pinged loudly. Nestled in a hatch on the mini Jaeger’s computer, the plasma capacitor caught his eye. But Jake couldn’t think about that anymore—this little machine could be the real score! If he broke this little Jaeger down and sold off the parts, he’d have enough money to stop scrounging through scrapyards for good. He’d never have to deal with people like Sonny again.
Suddenly, a hooded figure jumped out from the shadows and swung a pipe at him. Jake wrenched the pipe away and slammed the figure into the ground. He raised the pipe and almost swung, but then stopped short.
“What! How old are you?” he stammered.
The figure pulled the hood back—revealing a fifteen-year-old girl.
“Old enough to kick your ass,” said Amara. She started to get up but Jake nudged her back to the ground with the pipe.
“Let’s take a minute. You build this thing yourself?”
“No, I gave my staff the day off. What do you think?”
“I think I could sell your toy for a whole lot of money,” said Jake.
“Scrapper’s not a toy, and she’s not for sale!” Amara shot back.
“The man holding the pipe says she is, so—”
A siren screamed through the air.
“You led them here?” Amara asked.
“What? Nobody follows me! It must have been you.”
Jake looked toward the sound of the sirens. Amara kicked the pipe out of his hand. Then she kicked the plasma capacitor hatch closed and scrambled up Scrapper’s leg.
PPDC vehicles swarmed the shipyard warehouse. Jake looked at the young girl and her makeshift Jaeger, then back at the vehicles. It was time to either take a gamble on this stranger who was clearly out of her mind, or stay and get arrested by the PPDC.
Amara connected into a gyroscopic cradle and powered the Jaeger up. Jake scrambled into the conn-pod just as Scrapper’s chest plates slammed shut.
“Hey! Get out!” she screamed.
“Where’s the other one?” asked Jake, confused.
“The other what?”
“The other cradle! Jaegers need two pilots!”
“Scrapper is small enough to run on a single neural load.”
“Then move over and let me pilot!”
“No way!” Amara punched another key.
BOOM! Scrapper smashed out of the warehouse.
“Woo! Told you she’s not a toy!” Amara beamed.
“You’re gonna get us hurt. Now, come on!” said Jake. He tried to uncouple her from the gyroscope.
“Stop it!” she warned.
“I can get us out of here,” said Jake.
“I just got us out! Get off! Hey!”
Something appeared on the display. It was November Ajax! The Jaeger loomed over Scrapper, blocking out the
sun. Amara looked up with respect and awe.
A voice boomed over the speaker: “Pilots of unregistered Jaeger. This is the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. Power down and exit your conn-pod.”
Amara raised her hand in apparent surrender.
“That’s it? You give up way too easy kid,” said Jake.
“That’s what they think.” Amara clenched her fists. Smoke canisters shot out of Scrapper’s arms. The smoke engulfed November Ajax’s feet, so that the giant Jaeger couldn’t see Scrapper beneath the smoke.
WHOOSH! Scrapper barreled out of the smoke and took off down the street. Jake grabbed hold of a cable to balance himself.
November Ajax turned. He needed only one step to catch up to Scrapper.
“Hang on!” Amara shouted. She touched a final command, and the world spiraled around Jake.
Scrapper had curled into a ball! She crisscrossed between Ajax’s feet, confusing the mighty Jaeger.
Jake jammed himself in the alcove to keep from getting tumbled. He couldn’t help but be impressed at what this girl had engineered. Scrapper was doing these moves on a single neural load! The little Jaeger careened off palm trees and burned out cars. She rolled up the side of a pile of rubble, flew into the air, and crashed back down the wall of a collapsed building.
“See? I just out-piloted November Ajax,” said Amara.
“You didn’t,” Jake smirked.
“Did!”
BOOM! November Ajax’s giant hand peeled back a wall of the collapsed building.
“Okay. What do you got?” said Amara. “And I’m not getting out!”
Jake looked around the conn-pod. He rushed over to the set of twin ion cells on the wall.
“One of these ion cells redundant?” he asked.
“No,” said Amara.
Jake primed the eject sequence.
“Is now. Get us close to Ajax’s head. Go!”
Amara shot Jake a dirty look, but she hit the gas. Scrapper scrambled up November Ajax’s arm and over the metal Goliath’s head. Jake ejected the ion cell. It bounced off November Ajax’s head and ruptured! A mini electrical storm surged above Ajax. This would disrupt his systems alright.
Scrapper darted through the Santa Monica slums. The little Jaeger jumped onto the rooftop of an abandoned building, but the structure was old and weak. The roof collapsed under Scrapper’s weight, and Scrapper fell into the building. Scrapper ran full tilt and smashed through the walls in front of her. Then a warning flashed on the display: RESERVE POWER AT 12%.
“Told you we needed that!” said Amara.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Jake said, refusing to admit it was risky.
“How long before Ajax can reboot his systems?” she asked.
THOOM! November Ajax’s foot crashed down into the building. Scrapper’s path was blocked by a shower of sand!
“About that long,” said Jake.
A voice boomed over November Ajax’s loudspeakers: “Power down and exit your conn-pod. This is your final warning.”
Amara wasn’t about to give up. Scrapper turned and ran.
November Ajax raised a fist and cables shot out from its knuckle. Grapple hooks latched onto the little Jaeger, and an electric pulse surged through the cable. Scrapper convulsed. Her circuits fried. Smoke rose from the top of her head.
When the hatch slammed open, Jake walked out first. He shot a sour look up at November Ajax and raised his hands in the air. Amara followed. “Look what you did to my Jaeger!” she screamed up angrily.
Inside the holding cell, Jake and Amara waited for the PPDC. A tense silence grew between them.
“Should’ve let me pilot,” Jake said.
“Like this is my fault?” She looked bewildered. “You compromised my command center!”
“Command center?” mocked Jake. “I’m not talking to you.” Jake bit down on his cheek. The silence grew heavier. He couldn’t help it. He had to know more.
“Why’d you build it?” he asked.
“What happened to the not talking?”
“Said you weren’t going to sell it, so what? Rob a bank or something?”
Amara gave Jake a hard look. “I built her because one day they’re gonna come back. The Kaiju. And when they do, I’m not gonna be stuck waiting for someone else to come save me. Not like before.”
Jake considered the answer. It wasn’t what he expected to hear. He studied Amara, but before he could ask anything else, two PPDC officers walked into the cell.
“You. Let’s go.” They grabbed Jake.
The two officers roughly shoved Jake into an interrogation room and slammed the door shut behind him. His eyes swept over his surroundings—nothing but an empty interrogation table. Then, holo emitters flared to life.
There, in colorful pixels dusted across the air, was Mako Mori. She was secretary-general of the PPDC now. Her hologram sat at the far end of the table.
Jake grinned in relief.
“There she is! My sister from another mister! You make some calls, pull some strings, I gotta sign some paperwork?” he asked.
“I was really hoping to not see you like this again,” answered Mako.
Jake shrugged. “Just a stretch of bad luck, I’ll figure it out.”
“Father used to say we make our own luck,” said Mako.
“Yeah, dad said a lot of things,” said Jake.
“You were arrested in a rogue Jaeger built from stolen tech, Jake.”
“Wasn’t mine.”
“You have priors. This is serious,” said Mako.
Jake’s smile fell. “Which is why I need my big sister to get me the hell out of here.”
“They’re not going to let you just walk. But there might be another way . . .” said Mako.
“Great. Love it. What do I gotta do?” asked Jake.
“Reenlist. And finish what you started,” said Mako.
Jake eyed Mako in surprise. Then, a laugh escaped him. “I’m a little old to be a cadet.”
“I don’t want you to be a cadet. I want you to help train them.”
Jake glowered. “What’s behind door number two?” he asked.
“The transport is standing by to bring both of you to Moyulan,” said Mako.
“Both of us?”
“You and your new recruit.” Mako smirked. “Enjoy your flight Jake!”
Mako’s hologram winked off.
“Mako? Mako! Son of a . . . !” said Jake.
He knew he was trapped, and officially out of options.
The sunset cast a deep red shade over the Moyulan Shatterdome. Technicians hustled back and forth to refuel the Jumphawks, the aircrafts that deployed the Jaegers. A transport carrier landed on the tarmac. Jake and Amara walked out.
“Yeah, but why me? I mean why do they want me for the program?” asked Amara. She was hurrying to keep up with Jake’s stride.
“Built and piloted your own Jaeger. Don’t see that every day,” said Jake.
At that moment, a shadow passed over them. Amara looked up at the sky. It was Scrapper being flown in via two Jumphawks! Amara beamed at the sight. The Jumphawks released Scrapper. The little Jaeger landed on her feet—then face-planted into the tarmac.
“Hey! Be careful with Scrapper!” shouted Amara.
“Will you look at this?”
Jake recognized the familiar voice.
He turned to face Nate. His friend still looked the same—military tank top, dog tags that jangled off his chest, and of course, a walk that made it seem like he owned the place.
“Didn’t believe it when they told me you were inbound,” said Nate.
“Nate. This is Cadet Amara Namani,” said Jake.
“You’ll address me as Ranger Lambert,” said Nate.
“You having a laugh?” asked Jake.
“This is a military base,” said Nate. “Remember how those work, Ranger Pentecost? Let’s get you squared away.” Nate started walking. Jake and Amara followed him through the base.
Amara leaned into Jake. �
��Did that haircut just call you Pentecost, as in badass Stacker Pentecost, pilot of Coyote Tango, hero of—”
“It’s just a name,” snapped Jake.
“A really cool name. Explains why you got a golden ticket.”
“You know, moving forward, let’s limit the conversation, okay?” Jake turned away from Amara. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with anyone, least of all this overly curious cadet. Nate pushed through the thirty-foot-tall ocean doors that led to Jaeger Bay. Jake felt a rush of wind hit his face. Amara’s eyes widened in wonder.
This was the most amazing thing she had ever seen! Jaeger after Jaeger lined the shore. These were some of the most powerful machines in the world, and they were all in pristine condition! Nothing like the scraps and hunks of metal she was used to seeing in the yard back home.
“Sim training starts at 0600. You’re late, you miss the day. Fall behind, you’re on a transport back to wherever they found you,” said Nate.
Amara barely heard him. “That’s Titan Redeemer! And Bracer Phoenix, she’s a three-man rig! And Guardian Bravo! And Saber Athena! I love Saber Athena! She’s the fastest Jaeger in the fleet.”
Jake nodded toward the techs running up and down the shore. “What’s all the hustle for?”
“Been ordered to put on a show. Shao and her team arrive tomorrow,” Nate explained.
“Shao? Like Shao Liwen?” asked Amara.
“What they tell me,” said Nate.
Amara couldn’t contain her excitement. Half the tech in Scrapper came from old Shao parts. “I can’t believe I’m going to meet her!” she said aloud.
“You’re not,” said Nate.
“What? Why?”
“Why do you think. You’re a cadet.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Get used to it around here,” said Jake.
Amara huffed.
She turned to Nate. “So which one is yours?” she asked, motioning at the Jaegers.
Nate looked straight at Jake when he answered. “Gipsy.”
“You pilot Gipsy Avenger?” asked Amara.
“He used to . . .” a bright voice chimed in from behind Amara. A woman outfitted in tech gear had driven up to them in a scrambler.
Pacific Rim Uprising Page 1
