by Brett Patton
Matt started and stood rigidly at attention. Major Soto and Michelle snapped off salutes.
“Ms. Prime!” Michelle breathed.
“At ease, corps,” Prime Haal said.
“It’s an honor, ma’am,” Major Soto.
“No, it’s my honor, corpspersons. Thanks to you, we are rid of the Union’s most significant enemy.” Still, despite her praise, her expression didn’t change a millimeter.
“But . . .” Matt started.
Prime Haal nodded. “Yes. You’re a very perceptive young man. As well as talented.” For several long moments, her severe gray eyes stared straight at Matt.
The FTL transmission slid into bi-trot before Prime Haal continued. “. . . sure you’re familiar with the phrase, ‘I have good news, and I have bad news.’ ”
“Yes, ma’am,” the three said in unison.
Prime Haal sighed. “This is by far the worst part of my job. But, in this case, I believe the good and bad to be fairly balanced, something I hope the Union can always strive for.”
Good and bad in balance. Matt remembered Rayder’s words, but clamped his jaw to keep from saying anything.
“First, the bad. We are unable to publically recognize your contributions, corpspersons. This expedition was so, well . . . off book and off scale, there will be no medals.”
Soto nodded, his jaw set hard. Matt blew out a breath. If that was the end of it, he was fine.
“Next, the good. Despite our lack of public recognition, you have my assurance that your value will not be overlooked, and you will be awarded the achievement of Demonrider, as recommended by Dr. Roth.”
Tomita stirred unhappily in the background. Haal shot him a glance before continuing. “This brings me to my last decision. Congressperson Tomita has brought to my attention details of the security failure of the BioMecha program, despite the rich budget allotted for such purposes. He has valid points and concerns. Despite this, I will not immediately close the BioMecha program, as he recommends. However, additional Union oversight will be provided to ensure security. Mr. Perraux will be relieved of his assignment, in favor of a team composed of Union Army Intelligence personnel.”
Yve’s mouth shot open, but no words came out. He was being downgraded, and Matt couldn’t suppress a tiny bit of satisfaction. Yve was a politician, a compromiser. And the days of playing it safe were over.
“Oversight!” Dr. Roth snapped. “We have gone beyond the beyond to assure security. You cannot compare the situation with Rayder—”
“Yes, I can!” Prime Haal thundered over him. “You are fully briefed and apprised of all Union treaties, threats, and campaigns. We expect you to plan for them. If you cannot, the Union will plan for you.”
“I will not simply open my private facilities to your thugs!”
“Yes, you will,” Prime Haal said. “If you wish to remain the sole biomechanical contractor to the Union.”
“There are no other contractors!” Dr. Roth said. “My technology is proprietary. No research institution is even close to duplicating it.”
Haal gave Dr. Roth a knife-edged smile. “What need do we have of duplication when we have battleships and antimatter weapons? Doctor, please let’s not make this ugly.”
Roth slammed a fist down on the desk, his jaw working, but he said nothing out loud.
“If that is clear, then my business here is at an end,” Prime Haal said. “Corpspersons, thank you again. You’re a credit to the Union. I only wish we could recognize it.”
You can’t, Matt thought. Because then the truth would come out. Where they fought. What they fought. What the Union doesn’t want anyone to know.
The Union was run by the same people responsible for losing control of the HuMax in the first place.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles went white. Prime Haal and Congressperson Tomita winked off.
Colonel Cruz sat up straighter. “Corpspersons, we will have a small graduation ceremony for you tomorrow.” Then his expression softened.
“Thank you,” he told them. “Even if I can never say it in public, you are the heroes of the Union.”
“It was our honor, sir,” Major Soto said.
“Thank you, sir,” Michelle added.
When they left, Michelle split off from the group to go down to the infirmary, where doctors still worked on the four mind-controlled Mecha pilots. Matt watched her go, then followed Dr. Roth down a different set of passages.
He caught up with Dr. Roth at the entrance to his lab. Roth turned around with a deep frown of annoyance.
“What do you want, cadet?”
“Did the Union create the HuMax?”
Roth’s eyes widened a fraction, and he said nothing for a long time. Finally his expression softened to neutrality. “The Union has many agendas, not all of which are visible.”
“But did they?” Matt asked. “Have they been experimenting on the HuMax?”
Roth pursed his lips. “There are living HuMax who would see us all annihilated. That’s what matters.”
“Are they monsters?”
“Are we monsters?” Roth asked, and turned back to his door. “Now, if you will excuse me, cadet.”
Matt said nothing, his mind whirling. The Union has many agendas, he thought. But what was Dr. Roth’s agenda? What was his goal? And how had he developed that near-magic Mecha technology? They’d seen nothing like that even in the HuMax city. Rayder himself didn’t know where it came from.
But there was one more question he could ask Roth, one more important than any other.
“Who made me?” Matt asked. “What am I?”
Roth turned from the door to offer a sardonic smile. “Not HuMax,” he said, and slipped into his lab.
Their ceremony was in the Hellion Dock, the same setup as Kyle’s send-off. Ranked Hellions stood behind the stage. The thing the Demon had become had been taken to Dr. Roth’s lab, so the Hellions had to suffice. Matt couldn’t help but look up at them and think, Let me in.
He was hooked. And that was perfectly fine.
Across the way from the docks, the lights of the Decompression Lounge shone. Silhouettes told of silent observers of their ceremony, but the actual audience was sparse: Peal, Jahl, Stoll, and Kyle. Kyle still looked fuzzy from the drugs, draped almost bonelessly on his seat, but the doctors said he’d be fine, Michelle told them. Maybe a little too brightly.
Kyle waved at Matt and offered a wan smile. Matt waved back and forced a grin. There was no need for them to be rivals. There was nothing left of the man.
And his feelings for Michelle? He could accept them now. He wanted to be with her, to tell her he loved her, but he had no idea when the time would come. Or if it would come at all.
“Attention, cadets and corps!” Colonel Cruz barked out, taking the podium at the front of the stage.
Matt, Michelle, and Soto each wore new, crisp, blue dress uniforms. Matt tugged at the too-tight collar and kept his eyes to the front, joy and uncertainty fighting in his mind.
Cruz called Major Soto’s name first. Soto walked slowly and purposefully to face the older man. Colonel Cruz studied Soto’s face for long moments. Finally, he sighed and said, “For overall valor and capability, I award you the achievement of Demonrider, Major Soto.”
Cruz continued. “There will be no increase in your rank, as this is an achievement not tied to any campaign.”
Soto nodded. “I understand, sir. Thank you, sir.” He stepped back into line.
“Next, Michelle Kind,” Cruz said.
Michelle gave Matt one last glance, then moved to stand rigidly in front of Colonel Cruz.
“For overall capability and heroism, I certify the completion of your Mecha Corps training, Private Michelle Kind. You will take the new rank of captain, and wear the achievement of Demonrider.”
Michelle nodded calmly, but her voice choked as she said, “Thank you, sir.”
Matt finally stood in front of Cruz. The older man’s eyes narrowed down on him like las
ers.
“For exceptional capability in all classes of Mecha, I certify the completion of your Mecha Corps training, Cadet Matt Lowell. You will take the rank of captain, and wear the achievement of Demonrider.”
“Understood, sir,” Matt said.
Cruz just nodded. Then he held out a hand, stopping Matt before he could turn away. “Thank you again. And keep it up.”
Matt bowed to Cruz humbly. “I’ll do my best, sir.” He went back to stand in line with the others.
“May I present to you our newest Mecha Corps,” Colonel Cruz said.
Scattered applause came from the tiny audience, echoing loud in the large dock.
They gathered at the Decompression Lounge afterward. The Mecha pilots at the bar glared at them and left. Matt sat at a table near the window, not yet knowing how to feel. How would it work out with Dr. Roth?
How about Michelle?
Michelle talked with Kyle for a while. Kyle leaned over the table toward her, but she rocked back, aloof. They circled each other like the opposing poles of a magnet.
Matt sat alone in his own thoughts. So many questions, and so few answers. So many agendas, so many players. His future stretched out in front of him like a rutted country road disappearing into pea-soup fog.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thought. Kill Rayder, and then everything would be clear. No more obstacles. Get on with your life.
Except, Matt realized, he never really knew what his life was. His future was as cloudy and confused as ever, because he’d never thought past that one goal.
Matt sighed. He was empty, echoing. What would fill him up besides the Mecha?
Toward the end of the evening, Michelle came to sit next to Matt.
“Now what?” she asked.
Matt barked sudden laughter. “You too?”
“You too, what?”
“I was just thinking, What the hell do I do now?”
Michelle’s gaze bounced down to the table. “You killed Rayder, right?”
Matt nodded. At least I hope so, he thought.
“How do you follow that?” Michelle breathed.
“First Mecha Corps from Earth,” Matt said. “How do you follow that?”
They both laughed. It was a brittle, uncomfortable sound.
“Save the universe,” Matt said, after a time.
“From what?” Michelle said. Her tone was light, but her eyes were haunted. Maybe putting it all together. The Union and the HuMax.
Matt sighed. “Whatever it needs saving from.”
Michelle nodded and reached out to take his hand. He squeezed it softly. He imagined the feel of her lips on his.
But it wasn’t time for that. She watched his face warily, as if expecting him to lean over the table and try again.
“Seems a tall order,” Michelle said, after a time.
“We’ll do it.”
Michelle grinned. “How?”
“However we need to.”
Michelle laughed. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.” She squeezed his hand, content to let him hold it for a while. Her smile was bright and full of promise.
It wasn’t much.
But it was enough.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brett Patton, in the words of a friend, “was watching Evan-gelion while you were reading Heinlein.” Actually, don’t tell anybody, but he was doing both. And actually, don’t tell anyone, but he’s also taking liberties with the quote. He’s been writing fun, action-oriented science fiction for years, but this is his first published novel. He lives with his wife, Lisa, in Los Angeles, where he is sometimes asked to consult on “rubber science” for various science fiction movies. Visit him at his Web site: www.brettpatton.com
