Mech Wars: The Complete Series Page 10

  That was perhaps his favorite thing about being on Valhalla Station—the ability to fight living, breathing opponents in lucid.

  And today was the very first day Roach had given the recruits off from training, so Jake finally had the opportunity to seek out people he wanted to face. Some of his gaming friends even lived on Valhalla.

  Yet here he was, lying on his bunk, scrolling through page after page of messages. Because as fun as lucid combat was, he needed to check for messages from his family.

  I can’t wait till they give me an implant. His control over the digital interface would be much more intuitive, then, and directed by his thoughts, not by goofy gestures in midair.

  At last, he found a message from his father, and opened it.

  Peter Price was brief, as always. He hadn’t shaved in a while, which was unusual for him, and there were bags under his eyes, but his news was good: “Jake. I hope you’re well. We’ve almost finished developing the comet where we found the mech. We’ve been able to include a lot of little extras because of the money we made from selling that thing. Well, the payment hasn’t been processed yet, but I took out a loan, knowing it’ll come soon. I should be able to get a much better price for this comet than usual. I’ve only hired on one guy so far, but I’m screening new applicants all the time. No one can replace you, of course. Message me back soon. I miss you.”

  “Miss you, Dad,” Jake whispered. But he’d message him back later.

  Next, he found a message from his mother. She looked tired, too, and her hair, as red as Jake’s, bracketed her face in loose disarray.

  Everyone’s tired. Just like me.

  Brianne Price had less good news.

  “Hi, love. Your sister wanted to record a message, but she’s still not feeling well enough. She isn’t responding as well as we’d hoped to the radiation, but the doctor says there are alternatives, which we should be able to try as soon as the payment from Darkstream is processed. And your father’s business is growing, so that will help, too. Thank you for doing your part for that, Jake. I hope you’re staying safe. Love you.”

  “Love you, Mom,” Jake said, and suddenly he wanted to cry. Roach hadn’t been able to make him do that, but lying here on his bunk, alone while the others enjoyed Valhalla Station, missing his family…he almost cried.

  But he didn’t. He forced himself to get up and leave the bunkroom. It was about time he “Experience Valhalla,” as the well-known slogan went.

  The company had poured a lot of money into this place, which explained why it was such a popular destination, even for people down on Eresos, which was the only place in the Steele System where you could actually go outdoors without wearing a pressure suit.

  Valhalla doesn’t have Quatro. So I guess that’s a fair trade.

  The station also did a decent job of mimicking the outdoors. The ceiling, far too high to touch, was one giant, seamless viewscreen, which offered a convincing illusion of blue sky, dotted with just a few wispy clouds.

  Of course, that was only in the common spaces. Businesses could make their ceiling screens show whatever they wanted, and they used that to great effect.

  Jake had heard that there was a theater where live actors performed only Shakespearean plays, and they used the ceiling there to show the storms that inevitably turned up in those scripts. For indoor scenes, they showed the ceiling of whatever structure those were set in, whether it was a witch’s hovel or a royal palace.

  Valhalla was also dotted with green spaces, and Jake walked through one of those now. Here, anyone rich enough to live on Valhalla could enjoy actual nature, or at least as close to nature as you could get aboard a space station. The flowers and grass and bushes and trees were all Earth-based species, which had been taken off of humanity’s homeworld—before its degradation was complete—and cultivated through the generations.

  He found Ash Sweeney sitting with her back against a giant oak, whose branches stretched way up toward the artificial sky. Jake wondered briefly whether the entire tree was real, or whether it became simulated at some point along the way up. He wasn’t sure how that would work, but he also wouldn’t put anything past Darkstream.

  “Hey,” he said to Ash, who hadn’t noticed him yet.

  She looked up, and he saw the sadness in her eyes before she managed to mask her emotions, just like adults were supposed to do. Especially adults trying to make it as mech pilots.

  “Hello.”

  “You all right?” He took a seat beside her, though as soon as he did it occurred to him that he probably should have asked to join her first. Oh well.

  “I’m, uh…” Ash sighed. “I’m thinking about my sister. Missing her.”

  “That’s a coincidence. Here I am, thinking about mine.”

  “You lost your sister, too?”

  “I probably will soon. She has stage-four adenosarcoma. That’s partly why I want this so bad. A mech pilot’s pay will go a long way toward getting her the treatment she needs, not to mention paying the debts my family have already racked up trying to make her better.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  “Don’t be. Not yet. It might be time for that, soon, but not yet.”

  “Okay.”

  “But forget about all that. It’s our first day off. Is it crazy that I can’t stop thinking about going back to training tomorrow? And wondering what it’ll be like to actually pilot a mech?”

  Ash laughed. “If that’s crazy, then I’m right there with you. Mechs are so freaking cool.” She swept a hand through her short, straw-colored hair. “I’ve been telling my mother since I was a girl that I wanted to drive a mech. She always said it was crazy, and I knew she was right. I figured it probably would be hundreds of years before humanity built them, if ever, and I’d only ever get to pilot one in lucid. And yet…here I am.”

  “Here you are,” Jake said. “One of just three-hundred remaining recruits, all competing for the exact same thing.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did your, uh…did your mom survive the attack on Northshire?”

  Ash nodded. “Yes. She made it. Still recovering, but…she made it.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Me too.” She paused, for a long time. Then: “You think I’m going to wash out, don’t you?”

  Jake met her eyes, which were the same color as Planet Alexandria. “Well, Roach seems to be just as hard as you as he is on me, for whatever reason. But no, actually. I don’t think you’re going to wash out. I think we’re both going to make it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because we’re both doing this for the right reason. For our sisters.”

  “My sister’s gone already.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t do this for her.”

  “You mean, like avenge her?”

  “Sure.”

  “While you save yours.”

  “Hopefully.”

  “One to avenge, one to save. Kind of epic, when you think about it.”

  “It is.”

  Ash held out her hand. “For our sisters.”

  Jake gripped her forearm, and she gripped his. “For our sisters.”

  Chapter 23

  Do Not Flinch

  “We’re not moving fast enough,” Roach told the two hundred and sixty-nine remaining recruits.

  He’d let them rest for an hour after getting into their bunks. Jake had fallen directly asleep, exhausted from a day packed full of PT, only to be jolted awake by his fellows, who’d been warned that Roach would go harder on them the longer this took.

  After cutting their sleep woefully short, Roach had made them double-time across Valhalla, to the Epsilon Quadrant, which housed the Endless Beach—a vast ring of sand that circled a wave pool, whose behavior mimicked that of the ocean. Mist hung perpetually along its center, obscuring the opposite side and preserving the illusion that this was a real beach, and not a construct built by humans aboard a gigantic metal space station.

  By day, the Endl
ess Beach was endlessly populated by the families of Darkstream’s hardworking executives. But now, it was empty. Closed to the public.

  Either Roach had connections, or he was violating station protocol. Neither would surprise Jake.

  “We need to move faster,” Roach said. “The Quatro are getting more aggressive. And none of you are close to ready.”

  Jake’s mouth moved faster than his thoughts, and he called out, “R&D hasn’t even developed a working mech yet.”

  “Who said that?”

  “I did, sir.” Jake’s emotions had caught up with him, and he was afraid, now. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t own up to his actions. He stepped to the front of the group.

  Roach approached until he towered over Jake, his muscles taut in the artificial sunlight. “Since when do you have access to information about R&D?”

  “It’s all over the station, sir. Rumors.”

  “Is that right? What else does rumor have to say?”

  Roach’s face was as hard and stern as it ever got, and it took everything Jake had not to quake in his boots. “Rumor says that they haven’t even figured out the control interface, and a guy died.”

  “Hmm.” Sweeping the other recruits with a glare, Roach said, “Did everyone hear what this cocky brat just said? Did you hear the hearsay he’s trying to pass along to his fellow recruits as indisputable fact?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the recruits called in unison.

  Roach lowered his face closer to Jake’s. Then he screamed: “You just made this ten times worse on yourself and your fellow trainees, Recruit. Now, run. All of you, run! Run!”

  They ran, and so did Roach, right at the heels of the last trainee. He taunted them if they stumbled, and he especially made fun of the person in last, shaming them into running faster, until there was a new last place.

  Rinse, repeat, until gradually the entire group ran faster. And faster.

  “I haven’t even begun to break a sweat,” Roach boasted. “Have you? Tell me the truth, Recruits!”

  “Sir, yes, sir!”

  “That doesn’t bode well for you, Recruits! Because the night has just begun, and you’re not going to stop until the first Darkstream exec comes to soak his fat heels. If you do stop, even for a second, you’re done. Washed out. If you make it till morning, you can stay.”

  Jake’s heart raced, faster than the running alone should have caused. He’s going to make us run the entire night, after doing PT the entire day? This was insanity. It was abuse.

  When Roach shouted, he was somehow able to project his voice enough for everyone to hear while he kept pace. He hadn’t even begun to breathe heavily.

  Of course, he hasn’t been going through PT hell all day.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Roach said. “You’re thinking this isn’t fair. You’ve been doing PT since morning, while I’m fresh as a daisy. Well guess what? My training in the UHF was tougher than this. You babies are coddled in this system. They say the Milky Way was the safe space, but not the part I came from. The way I see it, you babies have lived in a safe space your whole lives, and I’m the first one to rip you out of it and show you what life is really like. Move, Recruits!”

  When they completed their first lap, Roach made a pit stop at the case he’d carried with him from Omega Quadrant. He tore it open and produced what looked like a gun, though it wasn’t like any gun Jake had encountered before, and he knew guns pretty well.

  “Keep running, Recruits. Keep running, if you want to pilot mechs.” Roach sprinted to the front of the group and then he turned around, running backward, the gun’s stock cradled between his elbow and side, its long, thin barrel sticking straight up. “About now, you’re probably thinking about washing out. Maybe you’re wondering if any of you are going to make it through the night.”

  From near the front of the pack, Jake could see that, incredibly, Roach still hadn’t broken a sweat.

  “Let me tell you something,” the chief went on. “It’s very possible that none of you will make it to the morning. But if any of you do, it’ll mean I’ve successfully culled the weaklings from the group. And we need to do that, quickly. Eresos needs us.”

  Roach brought the gun up to his eye, sighting along the barrel—straight at Jake. “Do not flinch,” he yelled, and pulled the trigger.

  Something smacked into Jake’s cheek at high speed, splashing liquid across his face. Some of it got in his right eye, setting it on fire, and he stumbled, trying to wipe it out. It stung like hell.

  “Stop and you’re out, Price!” Roach called, sounding like he was enjoying himself a lot. “Stop, and you’re out of my program on the spot.”

  Somehow, Jake kept moving, though his eye continued to sting. He fingered his cheek, and could already feel a welt forming there.

  Think of Sue Anne, he told himself. You’re better than this, Jake. You’re going to beat this. You’re better than everyone here.

  “Paintballs,” Roach said. “Filled with good old-fashioned lemon juice. Who else wants some? No volunteers? How about you, Sweeney?”

  Roach sighted along the barrel once again. “Don’t flinch!”

  The paintball zipped toward Ash, who cried out, stumbling, just as Jake had.

  Come on, Ash. For your sister.

  And Ash managed to keep running, too.

  “Flinch, and you might lose an eye, people. My aim is good. If you lose an eye, it’s no one’s fault but your own. Feel free to wash out at any time.”

  Roach took aim at another recruit and fired. Another.

  By morning, of the two hundred and sixty-nine recruits who’d come to the beach, only fifty remained.

  Their faces were covered with black and purple welts, and their heads all drooped toward the ground as they ran, along with their arms. Everyone’s skin was ashen, and their clothes were soaked through.

  But Jake and Ash were among them. When the first patron walked onto the beach, and it was finally over, they limped toward each other, embracing, tears and snot and blood streaming down their faces.

  Jake wasn’t even sure this was worth it, anymore. He was unconvinced that anything was worth this.

  The thought of Sue Anne’s gaunt face was the only thing that had kept his legs moving.

  Chapter 24

  Dangerous for Basically Everyone

  Gabe sat with his right foot atop his left knee, hands resting on his thighs. He peered across a mammoth, mahogany desk at Captain Bob Bronson.

  He knew what this was about, but it wasn’t Bronson’s style to go straight to the heart of any matter. Instead, he had to bring up other bits and pieces first, after which he would cut suddenly to the chase, as though it was a surprise to anyone.

  Maybe that sort of tactic did surprise others. But Gabe had been serving under Bronson for too long to be caught off-guard.

  “R&D have put together some pretty compelling composites from the brain scans they pulled from Zimmerman’s implant,” Bronson said. “It was intact, you know. They found it on the floor beneath the mech.”

  “Unlike Zimmerman.”

  “Yes.” Bronson sniffed. “Anyway, it seems the mech was taking commands directly from his mind, via the implant itself. He willed it to move its leg forward, and it did. Somehow, it managed to access the data from the implant and take its directives from it.”

  “Did Zimmerman will it to fire on us, then? Did he will it to kill him?”

  “Possibly. Probably not intentionally, but it is possible. The prevailing theory is that his death was caused by a simple break in concentration. A stray thought, which the mech interpreted in a way that was…counterproductive.”

  Gabe barked a bitter laugh. “You have quite a way of putting things.”

  “Mm.” Bronson ran a hand over his bare scalp. “It could mean that piloting the alien mech is very dangerous for anyone unable to maintain perfect focus at all times. In other words, it’s dangerous for basically everyone.”

  “Yeah.” Gabe had already put al
l of this together for himself, and he even had some theories of his own, which he’d been working over in his mind. But he let Bronson ramble, as he knew the man needed to.

  “Our geeks also put together aural data from Zimmerman’s scans, and something emerged that was somewhat unsettling. Spoken words. English.”

  “English?”

  “Yes. It’s possible the mech is advanced enough to have learned basic English just by analyzing the data from Zimmerman’s brain. Or maybe it’s been listening to us all along, somehow.”

  “What did it say?”

  “A question: ‘Is our union that which nullifies?’ Does that make any sense to you?”

  “Not much. It’s creepy.”

  “Yes. That it is. I wanted to speak to you about something else, as well, Roach.”

  Ah, yes. Here it is.

  Gabe uncrossed his legs, switching them so that his left foot rested on his right knee. He wanted to get comfortable for this.

  “I have no choice but to reprimand you for being as hard as you have on the recruits,” Bronson said. “Dropping from two hundred and sixty-nine to fifty in a single day, it’s simply—”

  “Night.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “They dropped from two hundred and sixty-nine to fifty during the night.”

  “Right. Listen, Roach, the higher-ups are worried you’re going to scare away potential future recruits by being so hard on your current ones, especially Price and Sweeney. If we become the company that crucifies anyone who tries to work for it, we’re going to have a real problem.”

  Even though he’d seen this coming, Gabe felt no less angry about it. The fact that Bronson was mentioning Ash Sweeney didn’t help.

  Jess’s sister. Gabe knew he was extra hard on her, partly because she reminded him of Jess. Part of him wanted her to wash out, so that the Quatro couldn’t do to Ash what they’d done to her sister.

  Another part of him knew that Ash was too good, too determined, to wash out, and that if she managed to endure the extra pressure he piled on her, she would become an even better soldier as a result. She had no idea about Gabe’s connection with Jess, of course, and he intended to keep it that way.