Kaizen Sanctuary (The Exoskeleton Codex Book 2)

by Sean Kennedy

  “We don’t owe you a damn thing! You got that?” He yelled from between the t-droids, “you little jockey!” He spat at Kage before turning and storming away. The drone cameras circled, trying to catch reaction footage from their pit, and Jacob was glad for his blacked-out visor. The aftershock adrenaline of the race was pumping through the crowd as they surged against the fence, and Jacob noticed one figure beyond the wire.

  The heavy cowl of a hooded sweatshirt fed under his black leather trench coat as gloved fingers hooked through the fences metal mesh. He stillness was a stark contrast to the energy of the frenzied crowd around him. Just as Jacob noticed him, the figure turned away, vanishing into the sea of bodies.

  “What was that guy angry about?” Jacob asked.

  Teeva stood in front of Jacob, putting his back to the circling camera drone’s above crowd. “He’s on Blade Wing, the team you helped bro.”

  “That's a strange way to say thanks.”

  “By helping him, you showed yourself to be so good that you had time to help a competitor,” Joni said from where she crouched over the drone; inspecting and testing each rotor blade.

  “Everything’s odds an’ reputation bro, by helping him, you built your rep' an' showed him up.”

  “I wouldn’t think about it,” Joni said with the edges of a smile on her lips, “no one has ever helped another racer that I can remember. This is going to be on all the feeds, from now on team Blade Wing is going to be the team that the Dragon Cobra Ninja Clan helped.”

  “Don’t let it upset your flow Bro, they're a skag team anyway.”

  “I bet he’s not the pilot,” Joni said, “he’s probably just the guy paying for everything.”

  “Doesn’t anyone just... help people?” Jacob asked.

  “Nope! It’s all hard ball on hard pack out here bro.”

  “Well, I do,” Jacob said and sat on his drone case.

  Teeva slapped him on the shoulder and sat beside him. “That’s why you're awesome bro!” Teeva hooked his fist in front of him, bumping Jacob with his shoulder as they touched knuckles. “We’ll just chill ‘till these losers pack up bro.”

  Jacob looked up to see his name, bounce, and team appear on a new race scoreboard in position thirty-eight of forty, just above the Blade Wing team. A call prompt from Mac blinked on his visor display.

  “Hi Uncle Mac, how is he?”

  “He’s resting lad, but I’m sure he’ll be as proud as I am when he hears about the race. Well done Jacob, well done!”

  Jacob smiled, “did you see it?”

  “I sure did! Watched the whole thing through the feeds, you were incredible!”

  “Not really, Uncle, I came in third.”

  “But you stopped to help another racer.”

  “Someone came over and was really angry about it.”

  “It wasn't the pilot though, was it?”

  “Joni said it wasn’t.”

  “Of course not. You did the right thing, and there's nothing some people hate more than being humbled, and you can bet that no one will soon forget it. I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, and what you’ve done, Jacob. You have real greatness in you lad.”

  Jacob felt a warmth seep from his heart and spread through his body. “Thanks, Uncle Mac.”

  “I’ll let you go, but remember it's not if you win or lose, it's how you play the game, and it's all a game.” He said, and Jacob heard the channel close.

  “You clear bro?”

  “Yeah, my Uncle Mac wanted to say he was proud of me for helping that drone.”

  “Yeah bro,” Teeva said nodding, “this’s gotta be one of my best ideas! Just think of it, bro! We could go far, be racing all over the world!”

  “I don't want to be a racer,” Jacob laughed, “I’m going to Mars.”

  “I don’t know bro, you're gonna break a lot of hearts doing’ that. People are mad bettin’ on your bro! You’s gonna be a star, spaceman!”

  Jacob laughed and had to admit that it felt good to win, even if was just for a fleeting moment.

  The next three stalls were packed up, and the last few totes, crates, and gear bags were pulled away by sullen figures. Jacob couldn’t help but feel bad for them as they left. He wasn’t sure what a jockey was, but he didn’t like the sound of it.

  Joni interrupted his thoughts as she stood from her drone inspection, “it looks good, I can’t believe how little damage you took, there was only a smudge where that dog bumped your underside, but that’s it,” she said.

  A voice yelled over the crowd, “Dragon Cobras!”

  They turned to see the red mohawk shouting from just outside the registration tent. “You got people calling for you!” he turned away without waiting for their response.

  Jacob looked to Teeva who seemed exponentially more excited.

  “Bro! You gots fans!”

  “What?” Jacob asked, and Teeva was on his feet pulling Jacob by the arm.

  “They want autographs bro, you’s gotta sign stuff!”

  Jacob turned to Joni, but she only shrugged, “Drone’s ready, and we got a few hours before the next race. Go if you want to.”

  “People wanna get a mark before you blow up! C’mon bro!”

  Jacob was pulled to his feet while Kage and Butai’s droids slipped in front and behind them. Teeva leaned close, “Keep your visor down bro, it's cool, like a trademark. Nobody knows who you are, an’ it adds to the whole mystery thing.”

  They made their way back to the registration tent, and when he entered, he saw lines in front of what were once registration tables. There was one empty chair where ‘Hummingbird’ hovered over it in augmented text, where people in an expectant line held freshly printed posters.

  The red mohawk wore the same unimpressed expression as he nodded to the empty chair, holding out a fist full of marking pens. Teeva took three, and as Butai and Kage scanned the crowd, led Jacob to his table.

  A poster was slapped down in front of him, showing his Kowazuki drone, streaking in flight with steel canine jaws bearing down on him; all in front of a close-up picture of his dark Kaizen envirosuit helmet. ‘Hummingbird’ was emblazoned along the top, as though the words were racing the ‘Dragon Cobra Ninja Clan’ text written beneath it.

  Teeva took the cap from a marker and handed it to Jacob, “Just sign it anywhere bro!”

  Jacob looked back and shrugged.

  Teeva leaned in, “Make a squiggle on the page bro, it's supposed to be your name, but like, all connected. Just make the same squiggle each time, so it's cool.”

  Jacob looked over at the next table and saw what Teeva meant. A drone pilot smiled and made a scribble on a poster before handing it back to its overjoyed owner. The other pilot signed overtop his face, practically ruining the picture, but the poster’s owner didn’t seem to care.

  Jacob rested the pen tip against the poster, but each time he thought to start, the scribble he was going to make seemed wrong. Memories of the tapestries and calligraphy that covered the walls of the Dojo formed in his mind, and instantly knew what to draw. Carefully but quickly he drew the symbol as he remembered from the wall hangings overtop the image of his visor.

  “Nice one bro!” Teeva nodded, and as quickly as he lifted his pen, the poster was pulled away and a new one was put in its place.

  He made the symbol faster the second time, and faster still on the third. Soon he was writing the symbols almost as fast as the posters were replaced, and every face, young or old, was beaming with joy when handed the poster back. It amazed him that he could bring so much joy with just a few scribbles.

  Twenty posters later, the red mohawk yelled, “Hey! You can’t hotbox in here!”

  Jacob looked over his shoulder to see Teeva frozen as if caught, the tube of his vaporizer held between his teeth.

  “Gotta’ go outside bro, be right back.”

  Jacob nodded as Kage and Butai’s t-droids moved closer.

  He felt famous, and maybe he would be if he kept doing thi
s.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “What modifications were done to the Kowazuki?”

  “Where did you learn to race?”

  “Why do you wear a spacesuit?”

  “Have you raced before?”

  The questions came fast from the crowd, but Jacob stayed quiet and continued to draw, handing the poster back to see the recipients elated face before fresh poster replaced it.

  A boy not much older than himself took back his poster and said as he turned away, “That was awesome how you helped Blade Wing.”

  Jacob smiled, remembering what Mac had said, but looking down at the newly replaced poster, something caught his eye.

  A set of ratty black gloves had placed the poster on the table, and Jacob looked up into a dark hood under a long black trench coat. Where a face should have been, Jacob saw only a black void, an electrical abyss staring down at him as two other hoods stepped out to the side from behind it.

  Before Jacob could speak, the figure lashed out with and grabbed hold of his shoulders as the two others lunged forwards and struck both Kage’s and Butai’s t-droids with short crackling rods. There was a bright flash of sparks and Jacob was suddenly airborne, pulled over the table by the cowled figure.

  Jacob twisted in the air and saw both t-droids with blue electrical arcs dancing across their bodies as they fell, collapsing like severed marionettes into a heap. One of the figures tossed something up, and a loud bang ripped the air, sending the crowd into a panic as smoke billowed from the grenade. All was screams as mechanical arms pulled Jacob through the crowd. He tried to get his feet under him as he was dragged behind the cowled figure. In an instant, he was outside the tent and amongst the panicked crowd.

  The two other hooded figures grabbed his arms just as Jacob got his feet under him. He fired his power-boks to jump free, but he cowled figures held fast, lifting off the ground with him as the spring boots launched him up into the air. They twisting his arms behind his back as they fell and the landing knocked the wind out of him.

  Something was clamped around Jacob’s wrists, and the envirosuit lost power. Jacob felt a t-droid’s metal fingers grab the back of his neck, using his arms like a handle as he was forced forward, his power-boks trailing behind him

  He twisted his head and saw he was being dragged towards a waiting VTOL flyer. it’s rotors were already spinning and its loading ramp open like waiting jaws with red lights blinking where where fangs would be.

  “Help!” Jacob cried, but his powerless helmet muted his voice. He was invisible in the panicked crowd as he was dragged towards the craft.

  Jacob scrambled, his extended power-boks sparked against the asphalt as the extensions kept him from getting his feet back under him. The trenchcoated leader continued dragging Jacob as the other two walked backward behind them, expertly scanning the crowd as they made their kidnapping.

  Jacob tried to twist from his captor’s grip, but without power, the envirosuit made his movements little more than feeble gestures against mechanical hands.

  “Bro!” A shout came from behind as Teeva came out a combat roll and leapt up, swinging his ninjatō as one rear figure raised its sparking rod. His stellite blade severed its forearm and cleaved into its hooded head, and a t-droid arm fell, bouncing across the pavement.

  “They’ve got Jacob!” Teeva yelled into the spectrum, and Jacob was pulled forward faster, still struggling against his captor’s metal grip. Jacob locked his legs together, trying to become dead weight, but his captor wrenched his arms painfully higher, and he screamed, feeling his shoulders on the verge of dislocation. Through the blinding pain, Jacob saw the hood slip off the second t-droid fighting with Teeva.

  It was an experienced fighter who swung hard, but Teeva was faster and parried the blow before spinning to cut across the t-droid’s shoulder and down through the torso with a samurai slash that left him crouched on one knee.

  The t-droid’s torso slid from its hips as it remained standing, its automatic systems trying to compensate for the sudden weight loss. Teeva was up and running before the legs finally fell over, closing fast behind Jacob and his captor. His stellite blade folded along his arm and a ninja’s focus in his eyes. Jacob felt his captor twist towards Teeva.

  “Jacob!” Teeva cried and leapt, swinging his ninjatō high as the kidnapper raised his arm.

  BOOM!

  The gunshot was muffled by Jacob’s helmet as the kidnapper sent a twelve-gauge slug and peppering buckshot into Teeva’s chest. Teeva twisted backward as his chest opened, spraying blood in a lazy arc as his corpse fell, splattering against the parking lot.

  *spuck*

  Teeva’s ninjatō fell from his hand and bounced, rattling against the pavement before coming to rest on its side; rocking on the guard as Teeva’s blood pooled beneath it.

  Jacob screamed. His scream drowned out the crowd. It drowned out the pain in his arms and the light in the sky. It drowned out the fear of his capture and the confusion of questions. He screamed as the dark t-droid dragged him up the dropship's loading ramp. He screamed until he couldn’t breath.

  BWAAA!

  Mark crashed through the chain link fence, his claws raised as he raced towards them, but it was too late. Jacob felt the ramp beneath him, and his view became framed by the hull of the craft. The flyer lifted off, turning as it raised the ramp. Jacob saw Mark, extend to his full height reaching for the VTOL and slashing at the sky.

  BWA*aa... Mark’s cry was muffled as the ramp door closed. A hood was thrown over Jacob’s helmet as he was pressed into a coffin like box, and a lid was slammed shut over top of him.

  Laying in the cramped darkness, there was only the VTOL engine’s roar, and visions of Teeva’s death replayed in Jacob's mind.

  BANG!...*spuck*

  BANG!...*spuck*

  BANG!...

  Chapter 22

  “I’ll let you go, but remember it's not if you win or lose, it's how you play the game, and it's all a game,” Mac said, and closed the com link with Jacob.

  He looked down at Vincent and watched his chest tremble as he struggled to breathe. “The boy’s going to be alright,” he said, and rested his hand on the old warrior’s forehead. It was cool and clammy, so he pulled the woobie blanket up higher to cover him. Vince hadn’t moved since Mac positioned him on his side, and that worried him more than the clammy skin.

  Here lay Vincent Slate, the last Flight Sergeant Major of the venerable Space Corps, survivor of countless star missions and battles, mentor to a nation of spacefaring pilots, now forgotten and struggling to breathe in the Pacific Quarantine Zone.

  Mac felt the anger rumble in the distance, but there would be nothing to gain in letting the storm sweep over him. The past didn’t care, the past just was. The honor of men may only exist in the mind, but it exists. Nothing could ever take that away. He stood and turned to the door, catching sight of the house spider in the ceiling’s corner, perched like a security camera as Mac approached. He thought it fitting that it was a Kaizen, abandoned and vilified just as they were, who would keep watch; “The esprit of mutual suffering,” as Vince would say.

  Mac left the door open for fresher air before walking down the hall. His thoughts turned to Jacob and how he was was so easily surpassing all expectations. He wondered how much was talent, and how much was the Vade Mecum? He supposed it didn't matter. The Vade Mecum was hardly different than a written book; the story and information are all just symbols. No matter how advanced the program was, it still needed a mind, a spark of consciousness, to come alive.

  What if Vince dies?

  Mac tried not to think about the empty sound of his footsteps.

  It would just be him and the kaizen.

  No, there’s Jacob.

  Until he completes his mission?

  What then?

  Mac shook it off, all that mattered was the mission, and it had been so long since they’d had a mission. With Vince down, he felt the terrible responsibility of being neede
d. Without a mission, there was no chance of failure, but no chance of success either. Failure would be better than floating in this salvage yard, rotting with the rest of the words forgotten cargo.

  Mac walked onto the veranda, letting the stained-glass door swing shut behind him as he gazed over the cargo stack forest. There was the Kaizen; they needed him too, and that was something. He considered perhaps it was more than need, the house spider didn’t need to watch over Vincent, but perhaps it was worried an old friend was in trouble.

  Mac took a breath of oily air and stepped down the mismatched steps. The Rainwalker was almost finished, but nothing is ready until it’s tested, and it had to be tested in so many ways before it could be called space worthy.

  He caught himself before he could slip into the stress cycle. The Rainwalker would hold. It wasn’t if Jacob made it to space, it was when. He felt the conviction of purpose swell within him, and the spring of his step increased as he walked through the stacks.

  He heard something through the shop’s open door.

  ...or had he?

  Stepping through, he heard it again. a strike, like a hammer blow against concrete. Opening the door, he remembered the Kaizen were rarely so careless to let storage become unstable. He moved through the storage racks and heard it again.

  *tap-tap* BANG!

  Hard motion; the unmistakable sound of focus.

  BANG!

  Something was going after the ship?

  It couldn't be, even if their other defenses were circumvented, the Kaizen never slept. Mac crept forward, crouching as he moved through the sea of storage surrounding the open shop.

  *swish* BANG!

  Another blow echoed against the wooden rafters. Mac used the noise to draw closer and peered through the cluttered shelves.

  Something was different.

  Something had shifted.

  The Kaizen droid that had spent days trying to initialize, was gone. Mac drew his eyes past the bench to the open shop and saw the single blue-eyed Kaizen leap high in the air, knees raised before landing in a crouch and driving its fist into the concrete floor.