by M. D. Cooper
The room reminded Rika all too much of the mech bays on Genevian warships. Mechracks, equipment storage, nutripaste stations; everything a mech needed to stay alive.
There were three other mechs in the bay when they entered—two AM-3s and an RR-3. All three were sitting at a table, playing what appeared to be some variation of Poker.
They were not wearing their helmets, and each had the same featureless face that Rika once had.
“Whoa,” one of the AM-3s said, his voice coming from a speaker on his armor. “Who’s the new girl?”
“Rika,” Silva introduced her aloud, apparently able to speak here, with the other mechs. “She signed on today.”
“Willingly?” the RR-3 asked.
“Something like that,” Rika answered. “You three have names?”
“Aaron,” the AM-3 who had spoken first said, and then pointed at the other AM-3. “That’s John, but he doesn’t talk.”
“And I’m Wyona,” the RR-3 chimed in. “Nice face you got there.”
“Thanks,” Rika said as she sat at the table next to Wyona.
“You the only other mechs here?” Rika asked.
Wyona shook her head. “No. Stavros has a couple hundred of us; we’re just the only ones in this mech bay. As much as he likes having us around, he doesn’t like having too many close by.”
“Prefers his goons,” Aaron grunted.
“Goons?” Rika echoed.
“The soldiers that were with him,” Silva explained. “They’re chipped too, but a bit easier to take down than we are. I guess he figures that if one of them goes rogue, the others can kill a squishie a lot faster than they could one of us.”
Rika snorted at the word. None of the mechs in the Marauders used it; it wasn’t the sort of term that helped teams bond. Though it was a lot nicer than ‘meat’.
“You really joined The Politica of your own free will?” Wyona asked. “You realize that it’s a life sentence; probably a death sentence, too.”
“I’m pretty resilient,” Rika allowed. “I take it that the three of you aren’t willing members of Stavros’s regime. And you can just question it like this?”
Aaron barked a laugh. “Well, we can’t talk outside this room; not aloud, at least. But I don’t think they actually listen to anything we say in here.”
“Or they’re just saving it all up to hang us with later,” Silva suggested.
“How did you talk to me before?” Rika asked Silva. “Back on Kestry.”
“Mission parameters,” Silva stated with a shrug. “Hard to run a team if you can’t talk. I took a few Discipline hits doing it, but nothing serious; though I guess you don’t really care about that.”
There was an edge to Silva’s words, like she didn’t believe that Rika could actually beat the compliance chip.
“Don’t care about it?” Wyona asked, confused.
“Rika has beat Discipline,” Silva explained, not quite matter-of-factly.
“Seriously?” Aaron said. “No one beats the big D.”
Rika looked at him. “I found out that mechs did it during the war; not often, but it happened. The officers told us it couldn’t be done in order to keep us in line. But it can. I have.”
“Prove it,” Wyona challenged.
“How?” Rika asked. “Should I blow something away?”
“Yeah, take out one of the charging stations,” Aaron suggested with a grin.
Rika raised her GNR, aiming at the nearest charging station, and a flurry of pinches hit her.
“This one special to any of you? Do you want me to actually shoot it, or is my intention enough to prove it to you?”
The mechs looked impressed as Rika continued to hold her GNR level; even John was paying attention.
“No. Stop.” Silva reached out and put her hand on Rika’s gun. “I’m sorry, Rika. If you can beat Discipline, you can’t tip your hand now. Besides, I saw you hold out for half a minute with Stavros cranking it up on you. I know you can do it—I just don’t want to admit that he’s had me under his thumb for so long, when I could have broken free.”
<’Think’?>
Rika decided to brave it. Worst-case scenario, she’d have to kill Stavros now, and then rampage through his upper echelon; if she could convince the other mechs to join her, it would be a breeze.
“Well, it’s not like it’s easy,” Rika said. “And even if you kill the person who has triggered your compliance chip, it doesn’t stop the Discipline.”
“Shit, really?” Silva asked. “Now I’m glad I didn’t fight it.”
“So how did you manage, then?” Aaron wanted to know.
“Someone else showed up with the codes,” Rika admitted. “He shut it down after I killed the bitch who had cranked it up to eleven; it was sort of a complicated scenario. Then I got unchipped and everything—until this.”
“Well, welcome to ‘this’,” Aaron concluded. “Stavros doesn’t share the codes, so if you kill him, you’re screwed.”
“Yup,” Wyona agreed with a winning smile. “Screwed just like the rest of us. Why don’t we deal you in, and you can tell us all about what it’s like on the outside these days?”
CRACKING THE CODE
STELLAR DATE: 04.02.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mech Bay #3, The Isthmus, Sparta
REGION: Peloponnese System, The Politica, Praesepe Cluster
The other mechs had all racked themselves and were in enforced sleep cycles, but Rika still sat at the table, thinking about how to solve the problem the other mechs posed.
Or, at the very least, the problem Silva posed.
Chances were that when Rika went after Stavros, Silva would be nearby. He would use Discipline on her, and if Rika killed Stavros while Silva was in its throes, she might as well sentence her friend to death.
It was also likely that other mechs would be nearby. Aaron said that he and John often guarded Stavros.
She needed a way to counteract Discipline for all the mechs on The Isthmus.
Rika wondered who Niki was that she could draw in hundreds of other AIs to her cause. That thought led to another, and then something came to mind that she had been meaning to ask.
To her surprise, Niki laughed.
Rika allowed.
It made sense. Silva had needed a scenario she could control. Kestry Station would have been easier than the moon. It gave Rika hope. Though her old friend was worn down, she was still a smart woman and a cunning warrior. When the time came, she’d do the right thing.
Silva, please do the right thing.
Rika hadn’t even considered that possibility.
Rika gave a wan smile.
Rika threw her head back and stared at the mech bay’s overhead.
The memory triggered Rika’s gag reflex.
Rika rose from the bench and realized that there wasn’t a sink in the mech bay. “Dammit, I really need a glass of water.”
Rika paced back and forth across the room as she considered how she could get her hands on Stavros’s hair—other than the obvious.
Niki told her regretfully.
Rika couldn’t imagine any sure-fire way that she could get Stavros’s hair, secure it against decay, and deliver it to Barne in short order without being ridiculously suspicious.
Niki said.
CATCHING SOME TAIL
STELLAR DATE: 03.29.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Jentoo Station, 75 AU from Peloponnese star
REGION: Peloponnese System, Politica, Praesepe Cluster
Four days earlier…
Chase was pouring a cup of coffee in the pinnace’s small galley when Leslie walked in, returning from her visit to the mod-shop on Jentoo Station.
He gave Leslie an encouraging smile. “It looks good on you.”
“Which: the tail, or the skimpy outfit?” Leslie asked with an uncertain smile.
“Pretty sure he meant the ears,” Barne supplied as he walked past in the passageway.
“When we’re done with this op, I’m getting this shit removed,” Leslie said. “I really thought the tail would help with balance, but it’s throwing me off instead. And the ears look stupid.”
“You just have to get used to it,” Chase coaxed. “And try not to hunch over; it doesn’t look very attractive.”
“Why, you…” Leslie muttered. “Why don’t you try being the sexy performance artist for once?”
“You were the one who said you can sing and dance. I can’t sing, and Barne can’t do either; that puts you on the spot,” Chase answered.
“I’ll show you ‘the spot’,” Leslie grumbled as Patty walked into the room.
“Oh, wow! You look great, Leslie.” Patty appraised her with a mischievous smile. “You never looked quite right before—like you were only halfway through a change. You should grow your hair into a mane too, get the sides removed. Or fur! Yeah, just go all fur.”
Chase covered his mouth, uncertain if Patty was messing with Leslie, but loving the look on the scout’s face: it was pure horror.
Leslie shot Patty a dark look, and Chase realized something else was going on.
Chase shook his head.
A look of consternation crossed Patty’s face.
“No fur,” Barne chimed in from the galley’s entrance. “It gets stuck in your armor’s actuators. It’ll also chafe and wear off in spots.”
Chase snorted. “If Rika were here she’d ask how you know so much about fur and armor, Barne, but I’m too nice for that.”
“She could wear some sort of soft gel layer over top,” Patty suggested.
“I’m right here!” Leslie loudly reminded them. “And I’m not getting fur.”
“Shame,” Patty sighed as she left the galley, slipping past Barne and turning back to grin at Leslie. “You’d look good in fur. I’d do you if you had fur.”
Leslie carefully pulled her tail to the side and sat at the table, shaking her head. “What’s gotten into her?”
Chase took a sip of his coffee. “Probably thinks we’re not coming back from this one.”
“Plus, she’s totally into you,” Barne stated. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”
“She is?” Leslie asked. “I always…. Huh.”
Chase hid his smirk behind his coffee cup. “For being the sneaky scout on the team, you sure missed some pretty big signals, there.”
Leslie put her elbows onto the table and lowered her face into her hands. “I was kinda occupied with Jerry, Chase…and then occupied with not having Jerry. I haven’t been paying attention to who’s been…” Leslie paused and gave a soft laugh. “Chasing my tail.”
“There are so many delicious euphemisms in our future,” Barne said conspiratorially, winking at Chase.
“Careful, big man,” Leslie warned. “Or I’ll tear your arm off and beat you with it.”
“That’s Rika’
s schtick,” Barne replied. “You’ll have to do something new, like whip me with your tail.”
“Oh!” Chase exclaimed. “Now that would be cool. You should get it weaponized! Make it so that it can extend way longer, and then equip it with razor-edged spikes or something.”
“Chase, seriously,” Leslie voiced condescendingly, rolling her head to the side and peering up at him. “If I’m close enough to the enemy for that to work, I’ll just be shot full of holes. We don’t tend to fight unarmed opponents very often.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Chase agreed sounding disappointed.
“So, you gonna wear that little two-piece dancer’s outfit the whole trip to The Isthmus?” Barne asked Leslie.
“I guess,” Leslie shrugged. “They didn’t have time to give me a detachable tail, and I don’t feel like cutting holes in my pants.”
Barne grinned. “Sweet.”
That was when Leslie threw the pepper grinder at him.
AMY
STELLAR DATE: 04.02.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Philip Kirkus Academy, The Isthmus, Sparta
REGION: Peloponnese System, Politica, Praesepe Cluster
“Amy,” Rika whispered from a shadowed recess in the corridor.
The girl stopped and turned, looking about for the speaker.
“In here, Amy,” Rika directed, reaching an arm out to beckon the girl closer.
“Rika?” Amy sounded confused. “What are you doing here? You left.”
She had expected Stavros to have told Amy that she was on the Isthsmus. Just like him, lies and double-speak to play everyone off one another.
Rika was crouched down in a shadowed alcove, her armor’s camouflage hiding her from the teachers and students at Amy’s academy. As Amy drew closer, Rika could see that the girl was upset. “I did, but I came back. I came back for you.”
Amy’s eyes lit up. “You did? For me? Is it just you?”
“Right now it’s just me, but the others will be along soon.”
Amy looked back down the hall. “Are they coming here? To The Isthmus? How did you get into the Academy? If father finds you here, he’ll be upset.”
