Infliction (Mech Wars Book 4)

by Scott Bartlett

  Lisa exchanged brief glances with Jake, to make sure he was taking everything in stride. But her friend had acquired what seemed to be an unshakable calm since they’d last been together several years ago, and unsurprisingly, he appeared collected now.

  They passed through a smaller rock chamber into an even smaller one. There, Lisa’s eyes fell on Andy, playing chess with Bob O’Toole on a board their implants overlaid on the rock. Andy’s eyes met hers, and she sprinted toward him.

  “Easy!” he said, using his crutches to struggle to a standing position, and she slowed, embracing him gently.

  “I’m just so glad to see you’re okay,” she said, her head pressed against his chest.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Although, you left me with only O’Toole for company, in terms of humans. I’m pretty sure my sanity went away a few days ago.”

  “You could have done a lot worse,” O’Toole said from his sitting position.

  I’m not sure how, Lisa reflected, though she didn’t share the thought. She drew back from Andy, trying not to look at his left leg, which he’d lost below the knee.

  “Who’s this?” Andy said, and Lisa saw that his gaze had drifted past her to lock onto Jake’s. Andy’s expression had gone cold.

  “Seaman Jake Price,” Jake said, stepping forward and offering his hand.

  Andy ignored it. “My hands are kind of full,” he said, lifting the crutches slightly.

  “Apologies,” Jake said, lowering his hand briskly.

  Lisa felt the corner of her mouth quirk downward. She felt quite sure Andy could have managed to shake Jake’s hand, and she wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t. Seems a bit petty.

  “Jake is a childhood friend,” Lisa said, in an attempt to disarm Andy. “He’s from Hub, too.”

  “I see.”

  An awkward silence stretched on until, at last, Lisa said, “Well, we’d better get back to the Quatro. We’re here to recruit them, too, and if they’re willing to join then we need to start planning our next moves.”

  “Sure thing,” Andy said curtly, even though he addressed her, now. “You two go do that. I’ll stay here and keep O’Toole occupied.”

  As she and Jake walked back to the central chamber, Lisa apologized to her childhood friend. “Andy’s not usually like that. I guess being in a warzone with half a leg missing has brought him a lot of stress.”

  She’d meant it as a joke, but it came out a lot darker than she’d meant—and a lot realer.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jake said. “We’re all under a lot of stress.”

  Chapter 5

  Window into Your Skull

  Ash was visiting Northshire for the first time in years. Her father greeted her at the door, with his booming laugh that seemed to echo off the hills surrounding the town. Then came Jess, her best friend and confidant since…well, since she’d been born.

  “Ash!” her sister squealed, running out to sweep her into a tight embrace. Pulling back with her hands still on Ash’s shoulders, Jess said, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another year at least!”

  “I…” Ash cocked her head to the right. “I’m not. I’m not supposed to be here.”

  Blood had begun to leak from the edges of Jess’s eyes, to stream down her face in tiny rivulets. Her warm smile never left, though, and her grip on Ash’s shoulders remained just as firm.

  “I’ve met a man, Ash, and he doesn’t know it yet, but we’re going to get married. We’re going to start a family.”

  With the word “family,” Jess’s eyes melted as though superheated. Melted dollops, they slid down the blood and fell from her cheeks and onto the ground. The rest of her face was unaffected.

  Ash woke from the nightmare, panic seizing her chest and making her heart race.

  Her surroundings did nothing to quell her anxiety. Gunmetal-gray surgical tables. Dully reflective steel walls. Sterile white bedsheets, covering twin rows of beds…

  A sick bay. The one on Valhalla. She recognized it from when they were all gathered around Gabriel Roach’s comatose form.

  Roach. He…killed me.

  At least, during that final moment of consciousness, with Roach’s dark blade projecting from her chest, she had accepted that she would die.

  Yet here she was.

  The sick bay entrance opened, and a woman wearing a lab coat the same color as the bedsheets entered, approaching the bed. Ash attempted to sit up, to greet the woman, but pain lanced through her body and she cried out softly.

  “Easy,” the woman said with a slight Eastern European accent that reminded Ash of Beth. “Your body is not yet recovered, though the iatric nanobots have made good progress on that front.” The woman offered her a small smile. “I am Doctor Korhonen. You’ve been out for a few days, and I’ve been supervising your recovery during that time.”

  “Thank you,” Ash rasped—the loudest she could manage.

  After a perfunctory checkup, Korhonen moved toward the only other patient in the room, a young boy who looked no more than nine.

  “Wait,” Ash said.

  Korhonen turned, raising her eyebrows.

  “Gabriel Roach,” Ash said. “Is he…what became of him?”

  “He is dead.” The doctor’s lips formed a thin line for an instant, and then she continued toward the boy.

  Ash was left alone with her thoughts, which kept returning to the question of whether she could have avoided Roach’s betrayal. The man had been abusive toward her before, and yet she’d kept following him, because she hadn’t trusted her own ability to lead Oneiri. She’d convinced herself that they needed him. And then he’d nearly killed her.

  But there was more to the picture than just her reliance on Roach. They’d both been driven by avenging Jess Sweeney’s death. Ash had thought that united them. She’d felt it. Yet here she was, recovering from Roach’s murderous attack.

  What does vengeance even mean anymore? Punishing the Quatro for killing her sister had been her primary motivator for persevering through MIMAS training, when hundreds of others had washed out.

  I endured Roach’s abuse then, too. I told myself it was for the best.

  With the data dump DuGalle had provided her, showing how Darkstream used Red Company to provoke the Quatro into war…

  Who had truly killed her sister? The Quatro, or her employer?

  Suddenly, she remembered what Captain Bronson had said during the Battle of Vanguard, about his willingness to nuke the entire area if the engagement went south, in order to neutralize the hostile robots.

  If he was willing to bomb his subordinates from orbit just because they were defeated, robbing them of any chance to retreat…

  If Bronson was willing to do that, then he would definitely be willing to bombard any region containing those who’d turned against him. That made her wonder where the rest of Oneiri had ended up. Ash had shared the revelations from DuGalle’s data dump with them just before the battle.

  She found that her implant still functioned, and so she used it to contact Beth Arkanian.

  “Ash,” her friend said breathlessly, her sapphire eyes wide. “You’re awake!”

  “I am. I don’t know how, but…I’m awake. I’m alive.”

  “I, um, I may have had something to do with that. I carried you to a hilltop and I fended off hostiles to keep you safe. Marco helped too, and Jake.”

  “Jake? He’s back?”

  Beth cast her eyes downward, then. “He is, but…he’s gone rogue, Ash. He pilots an alien mech now, and he went rogue, just like Roach did.”

  Her heart plummeting, Ash whispered, “Oh, no. He attacked you?’

  “Well, no. Not yet. But he and Marco have joined up with Quatro, and they’re ignoring Captain Bronson’s orders to return to Valhalla. It’s pretty clear what they’re planning.”

  “Wait, Marco’s with Jake? Then Jake can’t be unstable like Roach was. Marco wouldn’t have joined him, if he was.”

  Beth’s slim shoulders rose and fell. “Al
l I know is he’s joined our enemies. That’s all I really need to know. I know he’s your friend, but…”

  “He’s a traitor. Yes. I get it, Beth.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “As all right as I can be, I guess. I’m gonna go, okay?”

  Beth’s eyes went wide again, and then she checked herself. “Okay. Well, take care, Ash.”

  “You too.”

  Terminating the transmission, Ash struggled to steady her breathing. Beth Arkanian was dear to her, which made it even harder to process that she was so willing to turn against Jake, to consider him an enemy. Other than her desire to avenge Jess, Jake had been the only reason Ash had gotten through mech training, and she knew that she had done the same for him. He’d told her as much.

  Didn’t Beth understand that Jake was dear to Ash, too?

  She reached out to Jake via the system net, taking care to double-check the encryption first so that not even Darkstream’s spies could decipher the content of their conversation.

  At least, I hope they can’t. Ash knew they’d installed back doors into the implants—both the devices they sold to the public and those they gave their military personnel. She knew about many of those back doors, but it was possible there were some she didn’t.

  “Ash,” Jake said, and the relief and warmth he put into her name told her he didn’t consider her to be an enemy.

  That’s a good start. “Jake. I hear you’ve gone rogue.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “I hadn’t quite thought of it like that, but ‘gone rogue’ does sound a lot cooler than ‘treason.’”

  “But you don’t really see yourself as a traitor, do you?”

  “Depends on your perspective. I’m betraying Darkstream, sure. But only after they betrayed the people they swore they’re dedicated to protecting.”

  Ash nodded. “Do you think Bronson considers you a threat?”

  “Of course. In fact, I’m a little insulted that you’d insinuate there’s any other possibility. I do have a horde of Quatro with me, you know. Not to mention a shiny new alien mech.”

  “Watch yourself with that thing. I assume you know what it did to Roach?”

  “I do. And trust me, I’m well aware of its danger.”

  “Good.” Ash paused. “The reason I asked whether you think Bronson considers you a threat…Jake, he doesn’t need much prompting to wipe you out with nukes from orbit.”

  “Seriously? Bronson’s a dick, sure, but irradiating an entire region is kind of next level, isn’t—”

  “He’ll do it. He was even going to do it if we lost the battle at Vanguard.”

  “Wow. I mean…wow.”

  “Yeah. You need to get Marco to disable the function that broadcasts your implant’s coordinates. That, or cut the things out of your heads.”

  “I’ll go with option A. But still, satellite images will still likely show our location after I join back up with our army. With a force that big, there’s going to be signs, even from orbit.”

  “Yeah, but why help Bronson paint a target on your heads? Besides, there are other reasons to disable Darkstream’s window into your skulls. Ever heard of OPSEC?”

  Smiling wryly, Jake nodded. “You’re right. I’ll get Marco started on it, though he’s not going to be happy. I already have him cracking the access control on the MIMAS sims.”

  “You—” Ash shook her head as much as she could manage against the pillow. I’m not going to comment on that news. “Just stay safe, Jake.”

  “You too. And get better. Thanks for the tipoff on how crazy Bronson really is.”

  “You’re pretty crazy yourself, you know,” Ash said.

  “In all the right ways, though, right?”

  “Jury’s out on that one.” Ash terminated the transmission, then, a smile curling the corners of her lips.

  Chapter 6

  Robot Horde

  Rug surged through the woods, and with her passage, mighty trees splintered that once would have given her pause.

  Once, she would have cared more about the destruction she wrought. But she’d undergone a change.

  A corollary of that change was that she ignored the voice telling her she should wait for the rest of her force before engaging. That, as their leader, she needed to see to her own safety before she saw to theirs—and even before the safety of the drift they were attempting to save today.

  Your mate would not have condoned this recklessness.

  “Then my mate would have been a hypocrite,” Rug muttered as she charged forward, her four metal paws rending the earth. It was her mate’s recklessness that had saved Rug, and in the aftermath of his death, during her darkest moments, she felt content to continue that tradition until she finally joined him in death.

  The trees thinned and fell away entirely as she emerged from the forest and onto the plain, where her dwindling brethren fought an enemy comprised of assorted metal foes: two Amblers, dozens of Gatherers, and a swarm of Ravagers so thick and numerous that even her suit was having difficulty tallying them.

  The robotic hostiles had the beleaguered Quatro drift surrounded—at least, they had until now. Though Rug’s force hadn’t caught up yet, she planned to modify the situation on her own if she could.

  Veering to the left, reining in the awesome momentum her quad was capable of, she barreled toward a section of enemy forces that was as far from the pair of Amblers as it was possible to get.

  The enemy had barely registered her presence, but that quickly changed when she barreled into them, sending Ravagers and Gatherers hurtling through the air.

  Dogged and savage as ever, the Ravagers quickly regrouped, turning their efforts on her, trying to get at her mech to rip it apart. That was a real danger, she knew from experience, and if she allowed them unchallenged access for too long, she was done.

  But the dynamic of this battle had changed, and the rate of Quatro deaths had slowed. Almost a third of the enemy had turned to react to her attack, and the robot onslaught began to falter.

  That analysis flitted through Rug’s brain as her flanks morphed, suddenly bristling with twin batteries of energy cannons, which she used to execute simultaneous broadsides, blowing away the front ranks of metal hostiles.

  A couple of Ravagers still managed to make it through, and Rug reared on her hind paws, batting one of them out of the air with a forepaw and causing the robot to disintegrate. The maneuver angled the guns projecting from her left side upward, which more than accounted for the second Ravager.

  By then, the rest of her Quatro force was emerging from the forest. Though none of them wielded the power Rug’s mech afforded her, their sheer numbers were instantly apparent, and they just kept coming.

  Rug had learned that the Meddlers’ robots did have a self-preservation mechanism, and they seemed to have performed a quick calculus of their odds of winning this engagement, given the new arrivals.

  Those odds were not favorable to them, and the tide of metal attackers shifted instantly to flee across the plain.

  Roaring and barking, the Quatro gave chase, including those who had been surrounded. Although witnessing such bravery and valor didn’t surprise Rug, it still sent a thrill through her as she chased after the retreating robots, savaging their backsides with gun and tooth and claw.

  Yes, the whispers began, and Rug struggled to silence them. As so often happened of late, she failed.

  Kill them. Kill them all. Start with your foes and finish with your friends. Oblivion is the kindest end.

  Not the most pleasant sentiment, to be sure. Despite her inability to control the soft voices that whispered constantly to her from within the suit, she did not share their indiscriminate desire to exterminate. She wanted to exterminate, surely, but only those who’d taken her mate from her.

  As Rug harried the metal devils across the plain, Lisa Sato contacted her, a function that the battle suit enabled. That worried Rug—how useful the suit had turned out to be, and also how seamlessly it integrated
with human technology. She bore no illusions about the weapon’s origin, and she knew that whatever purpose for which it had been designed, it had not been one born of goodwill.

  “Rug,” Lisa Sato began. “Jake just heard from Ash Sweeney, who claims that Bronson won’t hesitate to bomb us from orbit if we became too big a thorn in his side.”

  Rug slowed her chase, and her quarry immediately began to lengthen the gap between them. “Is he capable of such a thing?”

  “Sweeney thinks so. Either way, it’s enough to warrant a meeting of resistance leadership. How have your efforts been going?”

  “Well,” Rug said. “We have joined five drifts to our cause, two which we joined in the midst of battle.” The last drift had been beset by Darkstream soldiers, but the outcome of that battle had been the same as today’s.

  “Excellent work. The drift here is ready to join us, too. All the more reason to meet and decide what our next steps will be. This is urgent, Rug. I need you to name a second-in-command and then leave immediately to join us.”

  “It will be done, Lisa Sato.”

  “Good. Thank you, Rug. I’ll send you our coordinates now, along with instructions on how to find this drift’s lair. I…I don’t think your quad will fit.”

  “I will find a safe place for it.”

  Ten minutes later, Rug was bounding across the countryside. Unlike when the battle fervor had gripped her, she lamented the effect she knew her passage must be having on the ecosystems of Eresos. This time, she took as much care as possible to spare the planet’s flora without sacrificing speed.

  It was all she could do. Haste had become a necessity for all who remained on Eresos and wished to survive. If Darkstream remained unchallenged, and the robot horde continued to run amok, it was likely that Eresos would soon be left without any stable ecosystems to speak of.

  Chapter 7

  Far from Stable

  “Gonzalez,” Jake said, opting for a greater level of formality than he normally would have. “Report on your progress with masking our implants’ locations from Darkstream.”

  Marco pushed himself off of the rock and stepped forward. The resistance leadership was meeting in the main chamber of the smallish cave system. In Jake’s view, the drift who’d taken over this place as their temporary sanctuary was overrepresented at the meeting, but he supposed that was their due, given they controlled it. He would have taken advantage of it in their place, too.