Meltdown (Mech Wars Book 3)

by Scott Bartlett

  He rocketed through the plug, flinging its contents every which way before the various objects hurtled once more toward the airlock, many of them continuing through to the landing bay before the barrier recreated itself.

  Only as he’d crashed through had Jake realized that some of the corpses were human.

  He tried to put the revelation out of his mind, and as he entered the comet, the Ocharium nanites inside his cells engaged with the Majorana fermions buried beneath the ground, which resulted in a simulated one G.

  Of course, it shouldn’t have been that easy, given the giant alien mech that he piloted. But it was—the mech behaved as though it was subjected to one G, as well.

  Does it contain Ocharium too? Or has it synced with my body’s experience of simulated gravity using some other method?

  He didn’t know, and right now he had no time to puzzle over it.

  Peering around his childhood home did nothing to alleviate his mounting anxiety. The central, artificial sun still lit everything as brightly as it always had, from its perch atop the thin spire that stretched up three-quarters of a mile. The ‘sun’ rested in the very center of the comet, and if anything had gone wrong with it, there would have been much bigger problems. A thermonuclear reactor powered it.

  Jake could see basically everything in the comet from where he stood, which was true of anywhere you cared to stand inside it. The land curved up and away from him, and residences hung directly overhead, too—as well as copses of trees and lush, green fields.

  At least, they’d once been lush. The tiny woods had mostly been burned, and many of the fields were scorched, too. Jake was sure the vegetation had lost much of its original color, also—probably because of the oxygen being vented out of the comet.

  Ravagers crawled all over, wreaking destruction wherever they could.

  And when his eyes fell on his family’s house, he saw that it had been blasted apart, with only charred ruins left of his childhood home.

  Chapter 20

  Whirlwind of Metal

  Ash tried to buck off her assailant, but the quad was far too heavy, and with it pinning her she couldn’t bring any of her weapons to bear.

  The Quatro mech’s claws dug deep into the circuitry and servomotors of Ash’s shoulder, causing the dream to go berserk, in a way she’d never seen it do before.

  As two more cracking sounds signaled more quads breaking out of structures, one of her fellow MIMAS pilots rocketed into the one pinning her down.

  The thing seemed to be ready for the maneuver, and it only shifted a meter before producing spikes to fire from its shoulders, straight at the MIMAS that had helped Ash, which her HUD said was piloted by Henrietta Jin.

  Henrietta extended both her bayonets, knocking the spikes aside before they hit her. With that, she used her right bayonet to parry a swipe from one of the quad’s mighty paws before thrusting forward with her left, putting her weight behind it.

  The blade plunged into the enemy’s metal chest, the fluid metal surface seeming to peel back in alarm before attempting to expel the bayonet. But Henrietta took a step forward, sinking her blade farther in.

  By now, Ash had regained her feet, and she circled around to the right, training her lasers on the alien’s flank.

  The quad writhed, seeming to panic, and Ash brought all her focus to bear, making sure she kept the beams on that one spot.

  Something hit her from behind, knocking her forward, and then the quad managed to wrench away from Henrietta’s assault, turning tail and fleeing.

  Extending her bayonets, Ash whipped around savagely, swiping at whatever had attacked her with the sharp edge.

  Her blade found a Quatro neck, and she followed through, parting it from the alien’s shoulders. The massive, headless body slumped to the ground.

  I got lucky with that one.

  But more Quatro rushed in between the buildings, and Oneiri was instantly surrounded by the massive aliens, who crashed against them like a purple tide.

  “They were waiting to ambush us!” Ash grunted as she dropped to one knee, turning a Quatro’s charge against it by sending it up and over her. She surged upward, and though the effort felt clumsy and awkward, it messed up the Quatro’s landing. That gave Ash time to detach her heavy machine gun from her back and riddle the alien with bullets.

  “Typical Quatro behavior,” Henrietta said. She hadn’t retracted her bayonets yet, choosing instead to plunge them repeatedly into whatever Quatro deigned to come at her.

  “The good news is, I think we have your nickname,” Ash said as she continued to shoot the Quatro she’d tossed. It was now staggering toward her.

  “Oh God. This should be good.”

  “Razor. For the way you shave these Quatro so good!”

  Henrietta chuckled. “It’s actually not bad.”

  Another Quatro leapt at Ash, knocking her gun sideways, and if she hadn’t stopped firing instantly she would have hit Henrietta.

  Incensed, Ash sent a metal fist into the Quatro’s face, causing blood to spray. It reared back, shaking its head, and she jammed the heavy machine gun in its face, pulling the trigger.

  The beast’s head exploded, sending brain and viscera to splatter against Ash’s metal skin.

  Two down. She searched for her next target.

  It didn’t take her very long to find one. Most of the other mechs were faring much worse than she was. She couldn’t see Richaud and Beth, but a massive pile of writhing Quatro gave her a good idea of where they might be.

  Firing a couple grenades into that dogpile, she moved to lend Spirit a hand, mowing down a Quatro before it could complete its headlong charge into his backside.

  He was engaged with two other foes, and didn’t seem to notice the assist. I never get any credit, Ash reflected sardonically, shifting the gun toward her next target.

  Then, she saw Chief Roach, and she quickly realized that as hard as the rest of Oneiri Team had it, they were playing on easy mode.

  Roach was taking on three quads at once—and he was winning.

  A whirlwind of metal and ordnance, Roach sent fragment after fragment of himself hurtling toward his opponents, whose measured movements spoke of respect for their adversary.

  Ash began to turn to see whether she could help the mechs pinned underneath the Quatro, but before she could, she witnessed one of the quads foolishly charge at Roach, in a desperate attempt to run him through with the lance that sprouted from its chest as it ran.

  It succeeded in impaling him, right where Roach would have been—if he’d still had a human body.

  As it was, the attack only gave him the proximity he needed to swing two newly morphed scythes down at the quad.

  Both blades sank deep into the quadruped mech, and when Roach removed them, it fell lifelessly to the ground.

  One of the remaining quads let out a strange sound, which resembled a cross between a roar and a smoker’s cough.

  The rest of the Quatro instantly extracted themselves from the battle with Oneiri, following the two quads Roach hadn’t killed yet as they fled the village.

  “To me!” Roach called, and a thrill shot through Ash—at their sudden victory but also at the fact that Roach was acknowledging that he needed them. That they functioned best as a team.

  “They’ll attack other villages if we let them escape,” he went on. “We must run them down.”

  As the Quatro fled, Roach took aim at one of their backsides with arms that rapidly became energy cannons.

  Blue light lanced forward, and the rear third of a Quatro simply incinerated.

  “Move!” Roach screamed, and they did.

  Chapter 21

  The Gatherers

  They’d almost reached the safety of the narrow ravine when the Ambler managed to extract itself from the pile of rubble Vickers had rained down on it.

  It began to fire on them immediately, and Lisa ordered the others to randomize their movements as much as they could—right before she took a bullet herself
.

  It hit her in the upper back, and the shock and impact of it sent her to her knees as she muffled a scream with the back of her hand.

  Ahead, the mouth of the ravine swam in the heat, as though taunting her.

  So close…so far.

  Rug swung her head to register what had happened, and when she did, the Quatro’s eyes went wide. “Lisa Sato!” she hissed.

  With that, she about-turned, faster than Lisa would have thought possible for a Quatro. Then she ran back toward the Ambler, rearing up to place her paws on a steep rise.

  “Help her, Rodney Vickers!” Rug yelled without turning. “I will hold off this metal beast for as long as I can.”

  “Rug,” Lisa managed to yell. “No!”

  “Go, Lisa Sato. I will not behave recklessly in this. But I also refuse to let this contraption cut our friendship short.”

  Nothing can cut our friendship short, Rug. No matter what happens.

  But Lisa accepted Vickers’s help at last, and she hobbled stiffly over the uneven terrain.

  Thankfully, the land trended mostly downward. Even so, Vickers had to help her descend by holding the back of her jumpsuit for as long as he could before she touched down.

  It wasn’t long before they had to go down over a rise large enough that she had to drop for more than a meter.

  When she hit the ground, spasms of pain racked her body, and she was unable to keep her footing. She shook on the ground, hands curling uselessly at nothing.

  Vickers landed beside her, and he didn’t ask whether she was ready to continue—he simply hoisted her up by her armpits and they kept hobbling along, somehow.

  She was glad he didn’t ask. It was exactly how she wanted the soldiers she’d trained to act, actually. Wasting time on mercy or sympathy at a time like this would only kill Rug, or possibly all three of them. Either Lisa could make it in time or she couldn’t, and it would be much better if she could.

  At last, they reached the ravine, and Lisa immediately opened up a wide channel, not bothering to take the time to configure a two-way: “Rug! We’re in! Now you come back, too.”

  But the Quatro was already bounding toward them across the terrain, armor-piercing rounds from the Ambler’s twin autocannons tearing up the ground all around her.

  Lisa had Vickers help her scrabble away from the entrance to the ravine—just in time. Rug barreled through, arresting her momentum several meters in.

  “Let’s keep going,” Lisa said. “We’re still not completely safe.”

  As though to confirm her words, more bullets bit into the rock face of the ravine mouth, sending flecks of stone flying through the air.

  It took them an hour more at Lisa’s hobbled pace to get back to the shuttles, where the rest of the militia awaited them, unharmed.

  Lisa’s chest swelled with pride, then—at her own actions.

  It’s okay to take pride in your own work, her father’s voice told her inside her head. In her own voice, she added: Especially when that work results in saving your friends.

  “We need to send a shuttle for Tessa,” Lisa said through gritted teeth. “I’ll go with that shuttle. Rug, you can stay with the one we came in, and we’ll return with its pilot soon.”

  The Quatro studied her with solemn eyes. “No, Lisa Sato. I would share a shuttle with you and Tessa Notaras once more.”

  Returning the alien’s gaze, Lisa marveled at the magnanimity of the Quatro—the capacity to forgive.

  If we were all like Rug, the world would be a much happier, much safer place.

  “All right, then. Come on.”

  Lisa ordered their new shuttle pilot to take the long way around to pick up Tessa and the rogue pilot. She didn’t feel like having to worry about Ambler fire twice in one day.

  They found Tessa and the pilot exactly where Tessa had said they’d be, and as usual, the older woman had the situation well in hand. The pilot sat with his hands over the back of his head, which was tucked between his knees.

  “Look at me,” Lisa ordered, her voice cold. She leaned against Rug, who’d tried to tell her to stay inside the shuttle, but she’d insisted on coming out.

  The pilot refused to budge.

  “Look at her, Slime,” Tessa said, and now the pilot did look. The white-haired soldier smiled. “I’ve been passing the time by teaching him to heed me.”

  “He’d better learn to heed all of us,” Lisa said, her voice strained.

  Tessa squinted at her. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “She’s been shot, Tessa Notaras,” Rug said.

  “I see. We’d better get that seen to, then.” Tessa paused, studying the Quatro with wary eyes. “How are we, Rug?”

  “We remain part of the same drift, and our friendship remains intact.”

  Bowing her head, Tessa said, “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

  “You’ve got some guts,” Lisa said to the pilot, her voice even tighter. “You knew about that Ambler being down there, didn’t you?”

  The pilot didn’t answer, his face looking paler by the second.

  “He did,” Tessa said. “He told me all about it while we waited. Came to find himself very loose-tongued during our time together, did Slime.”

  Lisa decided not to probe too deeply into that statement. “We still need him to fly the shuttle,” she said. “But we need to start double-checking everything he claims.”

  “Oh, I doubt he’ll try something like that again,” Tessa said. She paused before adding, somewhat grudgingly: “But I see the wisdom in what you’re saying.”

  Inside the shuttle, Tessa inspected Lisa’s bullet wound. “Your shoulder’s a mess. Looks like the round only clipped it, though—it didn’t actually go through. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have a shoulder anymore. Those autocannons fire armor-piercers.”

  “Can you do anything for it?”

  “I can dress it, in the old-fashioned way. Iatric nanobots would be ideal, but since we don’t have a nanotechnician with us, we’ll have to make do with what we can scrounge from the medkits.”

  Within a half hour, they were underway again—hundreds of feet in the air, scanning the terrain for signs of the Gatherer convoy.

  They picked it up again two miles past the ravine where they’d encountered the Ambler. This time, Lisa and Tessa pored over the landscape themselves, looking for signs of enemies.

  They found none, so they decided to risk touching down and continuing their investigation. It was possible the same Ambler would find them again, but hopefully not. If it did, maybe they’d be able to finish it off, this time.

  Lisa didn’t actually believe that. But their mission was too important to suffer further delays.

  “I think you should stay behind,” Tessa said.

  “Like hell,” Lisa said. “I’m coming, too.”

  “Lisa,” Tessa said, leveling a characteristically stern glare at her.

  “Don’t try that with me, Tessa. I’m not a little girl anymore. I don’t cling to your apron strings like I used to. Like it or not, I lead this militia, and I’m not being taken off this mission.”

  Tessa didn’t argue any further, though Lisa did hear her mutter, “I’d look ridiculous in an apron.”

  The shuttles touched down, and they picked up the Gatherer trail once more.

  After twenty minutes of trailing them, the Gatherers disappeared into a tunnel that was naturally concealed by the terrain—cast in shadow by an overhang.

  “We’re going in,” Lisa said, and that was that.

  Rug insisted on taking point, and Nail joined her, along with Pen, Fan, and most of the other Quatro that hadn’t stayed behind to guard the shuttle pilots, all ten of whom they’d corralled inside the same shuttle for easy monitoring. Next came the human portion of the militia. The rest of the Quatro brought up the rear.

  For a time, all that could be heard was the tromp of boots, the soft but audible padding of Quatro paws, and the skittering of the Gatherers.

&nbs
p; Then, a scream broke the silence, from directly behind Lisa.

  She whirled around, and she gasped, the shock causing fresh pain to shoot down her back, emanating from her injury.

  One of the Gatherers had impaled Rodney Vickers.

  Chapter 22

  Shower of Shrapnel

  Lisa reacted without thinking, switching her SL-17 to fully automatic and opening fire on the Gatherer attacking Vickers. She unloaded a full magazine into the thing, swapped in another one from her belt, and kept firing.

  The Gatherer withdrew the thin blade with which it had skewered Vickers, turned to Lisa, and advanced toward her. Behind it, Vickers slumped to the tunnel floor, clutching his midsection and trailing blood down the rock wall.

  Taking a step backward, Lisa continued to unload on the alien robot. At last, when she’d spent almost two full magazines on it, it burst apart in a shower of shrapnel, some of which pinged off the front of Lisa’s jumpsuit.

  She nearly tripped over the Gatherer behind her, then, and she dodged ahead just in time to evade the swipe of a claw, freshly grown just for her.

  Accidents involving the Gatherers were not unheard of, and she’d read plenty of news reports about people losing property to the things. There’d even been a few people who’d lost their lives to the machines.

  But other than clearing the path between whatever resources they were collecting and the deposit sites, the Gatherers had never been known to use their transforming ability to shape weapons for intentional use against foes of any kind.

  Before this, Lisa had only known the robots to have one function.

  Now, she knew better.

  She managed to roll a sizable rock off the tunnel floor and into her hand, which she hurled at the Gatherer that was inching toward her, now wielding four claws, each at the end of a ropey, metallic limb.

  The rock connected squarely with the thing, knocking it back, and causing the sinewy limbs to flail in a way that would have been comical under other circumstances.

  Lisa reached for one of the grenades clipped to her belt, but thought better of it. In these tight confines, that would have endangered her companions. Instead, she resumed the same approach as before, peppering the thing with bullets while walking backward.