by Brett Patton
14
DECONSTRUCTION
Sergeant Su escorted the three cadets down the hall. Matt’s Mesh hangover pounded at his head even worse than before. Almost as bad as the first time. A thousand thoughts ricocheted in his head: Gotta find a way to try again, talk to Soto. Can Stoll do anything? Who else can I talk to? Can’t stop now; gotta get back in the Demon.
“It was you,” Kyle said as they neared the end of the long corridor.
“It was me what?”
“You. You broke the Merge. Made us fail.” Kyle’s voice was low and urgent.
“Kyle,” Michelle said, laying a hand on his arm. “You don’t really think that—”
Kyle shrugged away from her touch and glared at Matt, his eyes narrowing in anger. “I heard your thoughts! Your dad. His killer. Your stupid, petty revenge. That’s all you fucking care about.”
Matt was so shocked he couldn’t speak.
“It has nothing to do with the Union. Or Rayder. You’re chasing some ghost,” Kyle said, his voice rising. “You don’t even know if the man is still alive! You put that ahead of us, and you broke the Merge. You killed Ash!”
“Cadets,” Su warned.
Kyle floated up to hover over Matt. “What do we do now? What does Michelle do now?”
Rage lit in Matt. I remember someone going crazy, but it wasn’t me, he thought. Matt clamped his jaw tight. It took everything he had not to launch himself at Kyle.
At the same time, he remembered their time together in their pilot’s chambers yesterday and the stories they shared. Why couldn’t it always be like that?
“Kyle, I’m all right,” Michelle said.
“No! You’re not! None of us are. What do we do now?” Kyle’s voice spiraled up and up, screeching.
“Cadets, last warning,” Su said, his hand on his stun stick.
But Kyle got right up in Matt’s face. “How will you make it up to us? Merge wrecker!”
Su pulled his stun stick. “Cadet, stand down!”
“Why? Can’t you see? He ruined our damn lives!” Kyle screamed, his eyes jittering from Su to Matt.
Su brandished the stun stick. “Come with me. You need treatment for Mesh fugue.”
Kyle blinked, his eyes losing some of their angry sheen. “I—I don’t understand.” He backed away from Su.
Su advanced on Kyle. “We can make this hard, or we can make this easy.”
Kyle lashed out at Su. At the touch of the stun stick, he crumpled, limp.
“Kyle!” Michelle cried, going to him.
“Stand back, cadet,” Su said, slinging Kyle over his shoulder. Michelle nodded and pulled herself away.
“Where are you taking him?”
“Infirmary,” Su told them.
“Mesh fugue?” Matt asked. “There’s a treatment for Mecha hangover?”
Su shook his head. “Not so much a treatment. Just tranquilizers. But at least he can sleep through the worst of it.”
“Maybe that’s what I need,” Matt said.
“Not a chance,” Su asserted. “This is only for when it gets real bad. The tranquilizers they use . . . sometimes they work, and sometimes they make it worse.”
Matt looked at Michelle. She returned his stare with wide eyes, then shot off down the hallway without a word.
At the residential block, Matt stopped. Why was he going back to his cell like a drone? He was just going through the motions.
A storm raged in his mind, maybe a side effect of Demon Merge. No thought lasted more than an instant. Every emotion peaked and crashed in seconds, only to drive to another peak. He was unsettled to the core.
You’re chasing a ghost. Kyle’s words.
Kyle was right. He was chasing a ghost. He didn’t even know if his father’s murderer was alive. Or if he was really HuMax.
Yve worked with Dad on Prospect, digging into HuMax technology. What does he know about it?
Matt went to the Decompression Lounge to look for Yve, but the bar was nearly empty in the early morning, except for two guys wearing dirty coveralls and sucking on big bulbs of ale. Diggers coming off shift.
As Matt waited for Yve, his Perfect Record took him back to Prospect. It all came back to the HuMax. The way his dad was the only one allowed in the inner lab. The interlocks on all the data access in the outer lab. How all the other researchers orbited around his dad, their bodies held in awkward tension. As if they were scared of him. As if they knew something of what they were researching and knew it was wrong.
HuMax. HuMax technology.
All the histories read the same. HuMax were created as the logical endpoint of human genetic research. Instead of simply being smarter or stronger or more intuitive, or gifted with better endurance or longer life, they were all of the above and more. Able to live on the most hostile frontier worlds, they were a boon to humanity in the early days of the Expansion into space, after the discovery of the Displacement Drive. It was a rugged universe, and only a handful of worlds were fit to live on. HuMax spread far and fast, quickly establishing colonies on the most challenging worlds. Prospect had been one of their colonies.
Then they turned on unenhanced humans and tried to wipe them out. And they came close. The histories showed ruins of the capital on Eridani after the Human–HuMax War; only twisted girders and shattered stone remained, as far as the eye could see.
But we were supposed to have killed them all, Matt thought. The Human–HuMax War was nothing less than genocide. It was the defining event of the Union, when humans came together to forge their destiny.
But no history talked about the HuMax’s superior technology. No recent articles even hinted that the Union was studying HuMax tech, unearthing the past.
What had his father been doing? What had he found?
Matt shook his head. That stuff didn’t matter. What mattered was his father’s murderer. He might be chasing a ghost, but what was the best way to find it? To become a Mecha pilot. To Merge the Demon. To take out all the Corsairs. He could do it. He just had to convince them to give him one more chance.
When it was clear Yve wasn’t going to show, Matt went down to the Mecha Corps staff office to look for Soto. The Corps there gave him scornful looks. News of their failure must have traveled fast.
Soto was there, strapped down in an aluminum chair in a cubicle maze of offices. He looked tired, defeated. He listened to Matt plead for another chance, then shook his head. Nothing he could do. Decision from the top. It wasn’t just their team’s loss. It was Soto’s as well. Soto had been ordered to cease his Demon training.
And, looking in Soto’s bloodshot and angry eyes, Matt wondered, Is he blaming me?
Matt went to the far end of Mecha Base, following the maze of tunnels down to Dr. Roth’s lab. On this side of the base, the corridors gave way from smooth steel to rough, plasti-coated asteroid rock.
Roth’s lab was marked by a simple stainless-steel airlock door bearing an inscription:
ADVANCED MECHAFORMS, INC.
AUXILLARY RESEARCH UNIT—MECHA BASE
SECURE AREA: ENTER CODE FOR ACCESS
Matt stared at the keypad displayed on the door screen. What could he tell Roth? That he was willing to do anything to try Merge again, not just for selfish reasons, but also to beat back the constant Mesh hangover? He had to get in the Demon again to make sure he didn’t end up like Kyle, in nightmarish withdrawal?
But there was more than that. Even over the pounding of his Mesh hangover, Matt realized that he needed to make it up to Roth for the team. For Michelle.
The door screen changed to a head shot of a thin woman wearing a white lab jumper. Her blond hair was cut short, almost a crew cut. She studied him with violet genemod eyes.
“Cadet, this is a secure area,” she said finally.
“I’d hoped to talk to Dr. Roth. I’m—”
“Cadet Matt Lowell. Yes, cadet. We know who you are.”
“Can I see him? Dr. Roth?”
The genemod woman shook her head.
“Dr. Roth is occupied. Please return to the main part of Mecha Base, or I’ll call security.”
Matt nodded. Of course. Roth wouldn’t just be sitting behind a desk, waiting to talk to him. Roth probably wouldn’t want to talk to him at all. Matt could only imagine what he might say. You did what nobody else could do: killed an entire team.
Despair covered Matt like a suffocating blanket. He had gotten so close to making it! He’d gone so far; he’d done so much. But in the end, he’d failed.
Matt woke to the soft glow of his wall screens. They showed him images of Geos, of protests on Union core worlds, of ranks of Mecha being prepared for battle. People picketed for the Unitarians: THE TIME FOR ALL-UNION IS NOW! ELIMINATE THE MENACE! EVERYONE UNITED! UNION FORWARD, UNION ALWAYS! The tone of the news was clear: the time for debate and dissent was past. They wanted to wipe out the Corsairs and everything else that stood against the Union, whether it be via Demon, Hellion, or even old-fashioned, world-destroying nukes.
Matt reached over to turn the screen off, and a hand reached out of the dark and clamped down on his arm. A chill rocked through his body.
Matt yelped and looked up. Standing over him was Kyle, wearing a hospital gown. His wide eyes seemed to dance in the soft light of the wall screen. In one hand, Kyle held a scalpel.
“You’re not going to hurt us anymore!” Kyle said, slashing with the scalpel. Matt dodged and put up a hand. The blade cut deep into his palm. It stung hotly as his flesh split. Black drops of blood flew and spattered on the wall screen.
Matt brought up a leg and kicked Kyle as hard as he could. He might have felt like his life was over, but he wasn’t ready to be killed. Least of all by Kyle.
Kyle flew away. His head hit the steel bulkhead with a loud boom.
The force of his kick pushed Matt down on the bed, which now sprang up and launched him toward Kyle. Kyle grabbed for a rail, found one, and turned to wield the scalpel again.
Shit. Matt whirled his arms to bring his legs around. The flashing scalpel buried itself in the sole of his shoe, nicking his foot. Matt felt warm blood spread.
Matt brought around his other foot into Kyle’s face. Kyle yelled in pain and slashed with the scalpel again. Pain and warmth spread on Matt’s leg. Matt flailed away. He needed a weapon. Now.
“Don’t run away!” Kyle screeched.
Kyle launched himself at Matt again. Long shadows cast from the screen light put Matt in the pitch-dark. Matt found the door. Pulled. It opened.
Kyle hit the edge of the door with his head. Howling in pain, he slashed blindly with the scalpel as blood poured from a gash on his forehead.
Matt slipped out into the hallway, blinking in the bright light. He pushed off, hard, down the hall. Kyle came after him. Matt trailed globules of blood as he flew down the corridor. He stayed close to the railing so he could pull himself along. Each time he moved up, he left behind a bloody handprint on the dull metal. His slashed hand had started to throb.
Where can I go? Matt shot into the Decompression Lounge. There was nobody in the room, and the bartender was asleep, floating in midair.
“Hey!” Matt called. The bartender’s head snapped up. His eyes widened as he saw Matt’s bloody state.
Kyle shot into the room. With great, dumb luck, he just happened to be on a collision course with Matt. His crazy eyes were focused on only a single thing. He held the scalpel out in front of him, ready to kill.
Matt stopped himself against the far wall. He crouched down, getting ready.
“Got you!”
When Kyle was a meter away from him, Matt pushed off as hard as he could. Kyle’s eyes tracked him. He didn’t notice the steel bulkhead.
Kyle hit the wall full force, making it ring like a bell. He bounced off, his eyes dazed, the scalpel drifting from his open hand.
Matt grabbed a handrail and reversed course toward Kyle. He kicked the scalpel out of the way.
Kyle blinked, then caught hold of Matt’s ankle. His grip was amazingly strong. Matt kicked at him, but the man climbed up his leg until he reached the slash wound on Matt’s thigh. Kyle dug a thumb deep into Matt’s muscle.
Matt screamed and tried to break free. Kyle grinned up at him like a lamprey. He pushed his thumb in harder.
“Your fault . . . your fault . . . your fault,” he chanted.
The pain was intense, unbearable. Matt felt the room receding away. This was how it was going to end. Killed by a teammate because he didn’t work well with others.
Mecha Auxiliaries barreled into Matt and Kyle out of nowhere. Two grabbed Kyle, while another used a towline to bring him back to the wall. One of them gave Kyle an injection. Kyle slumped, slack.
“How . . . what . . .” Matt said. The room was fading again. There was no pain. Everything seemed distant, faraway. He saw dark bubbles of blood floating in the air.
He saw that the Auxiliaries had two stretchers.
It wasn’t until later that he realized one was for him.
15
FRAGMENTATION
Matt flexed his hand, staring at the smooth pink scar that was the only trace of his late-night encounter with Kyle. Accelerated Recovery had mended his wound in just a few hours, as he lay in a happy state that felt just a little like Mesh.
“Are you going to Kyle’s send-off?” Michelle asked.
Matt snapped back to reality. He was standing outside his tiny room in a long residential corridor. Michelle had come up to him, without Matt noticing at all.
Kyle’s send-off. Major Soto had offered Kyle a new assignment as a Mecha Corps Hellion pilot, on a recon mission to the edge colonies. An easy job. A milk run. Matt saw the derision in Major Soto’s eyes, even as the older man struggled to make it seem like the best thing in the world.
And maybe it was for Kyle. Maybe that’s what he needed. Time to heal.
“I don’t know,” Matt said.
“He’s not going to try to kill you again.”
“It’s not that.”
“And he doesn’t really hate you. Or blame you. That was whatever the Demon had been doing to him since he got here. Join us.”
Matt shook his head. What would he do? Where was his offer? Soto had suggested waiting for the second round of Demons, after the new pilots Displaced in next week. But that was chancy. Would Roth even let him have another chance?
“Come on. It’s starting soon,” Michelle encouraged.
Matt and Michelle floated down the corridors in silence. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything. It was almost a relief when they reached the Hellion docks. They went through the open hatch and into the vast space. There, six men stood on a low stage in front of six gleaming Hellions. In front of the stage were rows of chairs.
Strong hands grabbed Matt and swung him around. Matt flailed and turned. It was Major Soto. His foot was casually hooked into the dock railing, and he grinned at Matt. Beside him hung Peal and Jahl, their expressions unreadable.
“Just making sure you’re not still looking for payback,” Major Soto said.
“He’s not,” Michelle said, coming up behind him. “I made sure of it.”
Soto studied Matt. “No. You’re okay. Sit down, have fun, enjoy the pony show.”
“You don’t think Kyle should go?” Michelle asked.
Soto shrugged. “I just deliver the offers. He accepted.” He looked over toward the stage, where Kyle stood in full dark-blue Mecha Corps uniform. The two silver bars of his captain’s insignia glittered on the dark gray fabric. His chest was free of other ornamentation. At a glance, he was the recruiting poster come to life.
Until you gave him a closer look. Under the uniform his body seemed hunched from fatigue, and the skin around his eyes was sunken as if after a long sickness. Worst of all was the expression in his eyes. No spark burned there. No joy. Kyle was a robot, hollowed out and empty.
“It’s best for him,” Major Soto said finally. “He does a good job, gets out, goes back to Eridani, does the Senator thin
g. This is just a checkmark on a long list of stuff he has to do. Just hope he has his shit together enough to do this one mission right.”
Soto then turned back to address Michelle and Matt. “Too bad we couldn’t keep you together,” Soto said. “I would’ve gladly been your fourth.”
They took seats up front. Michelle waved at Kyle, and he came to the edge of the stage to say hello. He turned first to Matt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, offering Matt his hand.
Matt took Kyle’s hand and gripped it hard. What could he say? It wasn’t your fault? Apology accepted? Nothing seemed right.
“Come back soon,” Matt said finally. “It’d be good to be a team again.”
“You bet,” Kyle said. But his eyes darted away.
A few more people drifted in, unfamiliar Corps and Auxiliaries. Most likely friends of the other Hellion pilots, Matt thought.
After a short time, Colonel Cruz came out and lined the men up, each under their towering Hellions. He praised each Hellion pilot in turn, highlighting their accomplishments during their training. He even said a few words about how Kyle had put his Demonrider candidacy on hold to lead new Mecha Corps members in a show of force on important Union worlds.
“Picking up the laundry,” Jahl whispered.
“Shut up,” Major Soto hissed.
Michelle watched the ceremony intently, her eyes fixed on Kyle. She bit her lip, as if seeing Kyle’s fear and uncertainty. But she also made furtive glances at Matt. He saw her looking out of the corner of his eye.
He wanted to let her know he’d help her get through whatever came next. She was staying strong, and he admired that. He’d make sure both of them made it to the next level, whatever it might be.
When the ceremony was over, the six pilots got in their Hellions and were towed out to the waiting Displacement Drive battleship, UUS Atlas.
