Mecha Rogue

by Brett Patton

  Outside Newhome’s madness, the Union revolution continued to reel off in Matt’s inset video. Government-toppling protests were flaring now on every major world.

  That was what Roth really wanted, Matt analyzed. To claw his way to the top of a crippled Union. That was the perch Roth was after.

  Concrete shattered around Matt, breaking his chain of thought. Matt scrambled to his feet and triggered his thrusters, quickly climbing away from the carnage on the street.

  Below him, the city came to life. Shining biometallic tendrils joined together to form thick ropes, wrapping around abandoned cars and trucks, snaking up buildings and plunging deep into their steel cores, covering advertising billboards and holosign projectors. Where they touched metal and power, the biometallic ropes coiled and throbbed with life, swelling into a thousand different forms. Some changed into Mecha with spiderlike legs and sharp, origami-like edges. Some transformed the sides of buildings into flocks of dartlike kites.

  Skyscrapers sprouted bulbous black gun emplacements, and Fireflies and Sidewinders began a continuous hail of brilliant destruction on Matt’s carpet of silver Mecha.

  Shattered segments and torn biometallic muscles fountained into the air as Lokis fell by the thousands. Matt’s Demon rang with the impact of depleted-uranium slugs and the explosions of Firefly missiles.

  Matt balled his fists in frustration. The coordinates of the Arcadia entrance were so damn close. If he could just get across the Capitol Plaza, no matter what he lost in the process . . . but there was no way to make it. No other Mecha to Merge with, no—

  Merge with the Lokis! It was the only probability with any chance to make it to Arcadia.

  He didn’t hesitate. He slammed his thrusters full reverse and headed for the most concentrated mass of Lokis. Landing hard, he grabbed the closest pincers and thought, Merge!

  Matt felt the Lokis’ rudimentary computing cortexes like a chorus of simpleminded voices, chanting in unison. At first, they struggled against the Merge. Not programmed! No rider! Unsupported configuration!

  Matt used his Perfect Record to show the Lokis their probable outcomes. Their simple machine minds ran the numbers and, as one, made their decision.

  We accept, they told him. The Lokis shimmered and melted like lead, joining with the main mass of Matt’s Demon. The giant red Mecha bulked up with silver veins and bulging biometallic muscle.

  Let us help, the Lokis’ machine brains said. We are faster than you.

  Matt suppressed a smile. Let’s see what you can do, he told the Lokis.

  The Merged Demon’s arms suddenly swept into life, triggering rapid-repeating Fusion Handshakes as they moved. The shock waves expanded out from Matt’s Demon, reducing the origami city Mecha to smoking hulks and melting still-transforming biometallic tendrils into slag.

  Leaping free from their attackers, the other Lokis streamed toward Matt now. They grabbed on to Matt’s Demon and became one with it, growing his size twofold, threefold. Matt’s Demon took on a paler red tone, with shining silver segments outlining every part of his body. The screaming in his mind became a chorus of machine voices, calculating and scheming.

  Like you, that static-dusty voice boomed over the cacaphony. Something like stale laughter echoed through Matt’s mind. The voice was almost irresistibly strong now.

  Matt clamped his mouth shut and refused to answer. But was the ghost in the machine a little bit right? His super–Perfect Record was like an ultimate computing machine, assimilating and assessing probabilities at unreal speed.

  Matt’s Demon was now as tall as some of the buildings in Newhome. He looked down on the Capitol Complex, now shrunk to the size of a model.

  Newhome’s origami Mecha swarmed toward him. Pinpoints of pain flared all over Matt’s body as they skittered up his legs and reached his chest. Fusion weapons flashed, puncturing his hide. A dozen drilled through his biometallic skin and used their Handshakes to blow away biometallic muscle and tendon. Sharp pain tore into his gut.

  More Mecha came. Like a wave, they flowed out of the city.

  No choice. Matt crouched down, instantly transforming from his humanoid Mecha form into something sleek, low, and streamlined, like a racing ground car on grand scale. Jets lit on his back, shooting white-hot flames two hundred meters behind him into the city’s broadest avenues. Building facades melted and windows blew out in the heat. Origami Mecha flicked out of existence with little sparkling pops.

  Matt barreled forward toward the Capitol Complex, as surviving building guns pelted him with depleted-uranium and fusion explosions. More Lokis flowed in to fill the raw gashes on his back, but the pain was red-hot, like being sprayed with acid.

  Matt shot out onto the ring road and into the capitol itself, right over a sentry gate entwined with transforming biometallic ropes.

  Matt followed the road deeper into the complex, dodging swarms of transformed Mecha, using his Fusion Handshake to sweep them away. The vector leading to Arcadia shot straight ahead and then slammed down into the ground—right at the location of Landing Pad 100.

  Matt’s Perfect Record yanked him back to the day he’d first seen Landing Pad 100. Standing there with Michelle. Wanting to feel what she felt. The place where humankind first landed on Eridani. The place where the Expansion really started.

  What bullshit.

  Matt realized he’d never really believed all these stories about the glories of humanity and the Expansion. At least in part, he’d always been searching for what was really going on in the Union and beyond, and here he was, on the verge of finding out.

  This was what he was supposed to do. He was a mongrel, and mongrels never stop fighting.

  Just beyond Pad 100 was the Expansion Monument, a five-hundred-meter-tall spire celebrating the beginning of humanity’s reign over other planets. The vector leading toward Arcadia pointed straight at the monument, then dove beneath the ground.

  The lab of labs, the ultimate stronghold—existed under a monument in the capitol? Why would they put something like that here?

  This is much more than a lab, the scratchy voice taunted. This is a place no one is worthy to enter.

  A shadow fell across his visor. Strong hands seized Matt’s Demon and plucked it from the ground. He yelled and transformed back into his humanoid shape, thrashing against his attacker. But the thing held him in a viselike grip and shook him with a fury. It took several seconds for his visor to clear enough so Matt could see what was happening.

  The Expansion Monument, the five-hundred-meter-tall black spire that marked the beginning of humanity’s reign on other planets, had been transformed into a giant Mecha.

  And it had him.

  * * *

  At the spire of the Expansion Monument, a flaming orange gash opened. The sharp-edged hands of the transformed Monument-Mecha brought Matt’s Demon inexorably upward toward its fiery mouth. Shining black orbs split through the surface of the Expansion Monument, rotating quickly to fix him with pinpoint pupils.

  Matt grabbed the monument’s arm and triggered his Fusion Handshake. Power thundered down his Demon’s arm and reverberated from the Monument-Mecha. Pieces exploded outward in all directions, showering the fresh green grass of the Capitol Plaza with obsidian-colored rubble.

  But its grip didn’t loosen. Beneath the stonelike exterior, massive coiled ropes of biometallic muscle gleamed, mercury-bright in the late afternoon sun.

  Matt screamed, triggering Handshake after Handshake. But the giant didn’t falter. Matt tried to draw his Zap Gun, but the Monument-Mecha tightened its irresistible grip.

  In seconds, the damn thing would throw him down its burning maw. Every thread led to that outcome. There was no escape, none at all. A momentary shock of pure hopelessness overcame Matt.

  What to do? He dared not Merge with the thing. It was part of the city. It would jus
t overpower him, as Newhome had done.

  But there was nothing to Merge with. He’d already absorbed all the surviving Lokis. But even if there were ten thousand more, he’d never match the mass of this gigantic spire.

  He was at the thing’s mouth. Deep inside it, a crystalline orb pulsed with pure power, ready to sear him to oblivion.

  Matt stretched his Demon’s hands out in front of him and triggered one last Handshake. The monument rocked back briefly. A new arm shot out of the side of the monument and grabbed Matt’s arm, crushing his Fusion Handshake in a crescendo of pain. It twisted the crushed arm out of its socket, shearing cords of biometallic muscle with deep, thrumming bass twangs. Matt screamed as icons flared in his viewmask:

  ARM REGENERATION: INDETERMINATE

  CQFA REGENERATION: INDETERMINATE

  One arm down, the rest of me to go, Matt thought hysterically. It really was over.

  Boom. Blue-white brilliance flared in front of Matt, and a shock wave rattled his broken Mecha. The Monument-Mecha’s mouth blew open, bricks expanding outward in a cloud. The thing screamed, an unearthly alien ululation.

  Tags in Matt’s viewmask told the tale: another Demon had arrived, delivering a Zap Gun blast right into the mouth of Matt’s giant enemy.

  Another Demon? That meant . . .

  “And the teacher again saves the protégé,” a voice said, across the comms. Its identifying icon flared DR. SALVATORE ROTH.

  In a flash, the Monument-Mecha shot out another arm and grabbed Dr. Roth’s Demon in its implacable talons. Roth’s Zap Gun exploded in a flare of antimatter fire. Roth yelled over the comms and triggered Fusion Handshakes. The Monument-Mecha’s talons glowed red with the fusion fire, but held fast. The backfire energy concussed Roth’s Mecha with punishing heat waves.

  Now the Monument-Mecha held both of them fast. Its hands rose toward its mouth, toward destruction.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Matt said, dripping sarcasm.

  “I could not possibly estimate the power of this—of this technology—”

  Matt cut him off. “I figured it wasn’t yours.”

  Roth fumed silently, his comms icon still lit. The Monument-Mecha’s mouth was very close now. Beyond it, the city of Newhome boiled under coils of biometallic muscle. The transformation continued.

  It was over. Completely over. Matt would never know how or why Roth had shown up to help, or what Eridani’s underground biomechanical secret was. All probabilities pointed to a single end point, in the gut of the towering Mecha.

  Roth’s Demon was now close. Close enough to see all the damage. The thing was a quarter gone, blown away in the Zap Gun explosion. Not that it mattered. Even whole, he was no match for the Monument-Mecha.

  “Merged Demons increase power exponentially.” Dr. Roth’s instruction came back to Matt.

  “Merge,” Matt said.

  Roth croaked something unintelligible. It could have been a compliment or a condemnation.

  Matt reached with an arm, willing it to elongate and touch Dr. Roth’s Demon. Immediately power shot across the connection to Matt. Power, and Roth’s dark thoughts.

  Dark not for evil, but for their obscurity. Roth was actually trying to shield his thoughts from Matt. Matt was incredulous. He didn’t know you could do that. He believed that sharing minds in Merge was absolute.

  Still, pieces bled through. Roth was as surprised as Matt by the biometallic ropes that had shot up out of the ground of Newhome. He’d really thought Arcadia was just a grand lab, maybe more than that, perhaps even the enigmatic Source, the one he’d found, the one the Union had found, the one he suspected Rayder of using . . .

  Roth’s thoughts clamped down tight on that. His voice grated over the comms: “If we are to survive, I suggest we act now.”

  Matt jumped. The heat of the Monument-Mecha’s fusion mouth was hot on the Mecha’s skin. They were moments away from being consumed.

  Complete Merge, Matt thought.

  Matt’s and Roth’s Demons flowed together like molten steel, forming biometallic cuffs around the Monument-Mecha’s arms. Matt’s power levels shot up as the Merge continued, peaking at 1.7x, 2.5x, 3.3x what he’d had before. His REGENERATION warnings disappeared, and new strength flooded through his body.

  The Monument-Mecha beat the Demon cuffs against its mouth, unable to ingest it.

  Zap Gun, Matt thought.

  Gone, Dr. Roth corrected.

  Not mine, Matt shot back.

  The Demon cuffs extruded arms and swiftly unfolded the shining silver gun out of its biometallic body. The Monument-Mecha keened again, its tiny eyes swiveling in fear. Its arms pushed them away now, desperate to fling them away.

  Too late. The Zap Gun was aimed and ready.

  Fire, Matt/Roth thought.

  Pure light shot down the Monument-Mecha’s throat. Molten biometal erupted out of its gullet. Its scream of pain shattered the few remaining panes of glass in the Capitol Complex.

  The giant thing reeled backward as its head split in half, erupting hot plasma. Slowly, the five-hundred-meter-tall Expansion Monument started to topple toward the ground.

  Matt/Roth flowed out of its slack fingers and reformed in a humanoid shape: a super-Demon twenty-five meters tall. Thrusters on its back flared to hold it in midair. For long moments, the two men could do nothing but watch the show.

  The Expansion Monument fell across the pristine park of the Capitol Mound. A noise like distant thunder rolled across the still-transforming city.

  Matt/Roth’s enhanced senses zoomed in on Newhome, now little more than a tangled jungle of biometallic sinew.

  Complete conversion, and with such speed, Roth thought. His dark mind fed Matt feelings of awe and wonder. Not a single thought for the inhabitants of the city, or what might have become of them. No sympathy at all. Roth dreamed only of what he could do with such power. But his dreams were blurry, indistinct. His ultimate motive was well shadowed.

  What would you do with that power? Matt thought.

  Roth’s mental barriers clamped down tight. You are such a simple man, for all your abilities, Roth told Matt. Would you be content to leave the Union in charge of our destiny?

  As opposed to you? Matt thought. Out loud, he said, “What’s happening to the city?”

  Roth sent deep amusement to Matt. For one moment, his barriers were down. Matt shivered in revulsion. He was here, Merged in Mecha, sharing his mind with Dr. Roth.

  “Simple mind, simple answers,” Roth said. On Matt’s viewmask, the map to Arcadia came to the fore. The location vector pointed straight down to Platform 100. “We inspect the installation.”

  Matt nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Matt/Roth shot down to Platform 100. The vector pointed solidly at the center of the fused black granite plinth. There was no obvious entrance, not even using the Demon’s enhanced sensor array.

  Matt shivered. It was as if the early settlers had buried something here, something they wanted to stay hidden for all eternity.

  Stop being dramatic, Roth thought. But beneath that, he was unsettled. Whatever he had expected Arcadia to be, he hadn’t expected this.

  “No time for subtlety,” Matt said. Matt/Roth drew their Zap Gun in one smooth motion. They aimed it straight down at the platform and pulled the trigger. Antimatter power slammed down their Mecha arm. Fused stone flared red and ran like water while clouds of black smoke shot skyward.

  Matt’s viewmask lit with new tags. Far above Newhome, three Mecha were descending. Each was tagged DEMON.

  “Yours?” Matt asked, out loud.

  No, Roth thought.

  Great. Even if they broke through to Arcadia, those Demons would follow them in. And that would be the end. And that could surely be their end. Two crippled Demons against three shiny new ones, in close-quarter
combat. It was a simple equation to solve. Just like so many of Matt’s gifts, it was a blessing and a curse to have the ability to deduct with extreme scrutiny every possible future. Matt/Roth’s Zap Gun beam flickered in uncertainty.

  This is too fascinating not to follow to the end, Roth thought.

  Matt ground his teeth. “Even if the end is our end?”

  Roth’s amusement poured through the mental link. “Are you scared, prodigy?” he said, out loud.

  Matt’s anger flared. “Hell no!”

  Suddenly their Zap Gun beam went pure white as the barrier in front of it disappeared. They were through. In front of Matt/Roth was a deep shaft. Its walls still glowed faintly red from the antimatter beam. Matt’s sensors pegged the depth of the hole as over a hundred meters.

  Behind them, the Demons streaked closer.

  No time for subtlety, Matt thought again, and jumped.

  Matt/Roth fell through the just-cut shaft, thrusters lighting the vitrified walls. They descended into a large chamber, easily three hundred meters around and fifty tall. Along the walls were fantastic frescoes carved into the naked stone. But they weren’t like the work on Esplandian or El Dorado—or anything like Matt had ever seen before. They didn’t show anything recognizable at all. The frescoes were repeated geometric patterns, so complex as to be almost fractal.

  Below the frescoes, several tunnels pierced the stone, dark thresholds that revealed nothing beyond.

  Matt checked his coordinates. According to the viewmask, they were inside Arcadia. Arcadia was all around them, extending in a diffuse cloud outward.

  This is it? Matt thought, confused.

  Deeper perhaps, Roth thought, indicating the tunnels.

  But the tunnels were too small for their Merged Demon. We’ll have to deMerge, Matt thought.

  Leaving me without a Zap Gun, Roth thought.

  “And me without an arm or Fusion Handshake,” Matt said, out loud.

  Still, waves of distrust emanated from Roth.