The minute the retrofitting chamber hissed open, Rush stepped out and stretched stiff muscles, then took a moment to admire the new armor. Where once there had been mismatched pieces of scrap metal and cables, there was now a cohesive shell of metal plating and synthetic muscle fibers as connective tissue. To Rush’s surprise, the armor coating had changed color from shining silver to a dull red-brown, similar to copper.
“Did you paint the armor, Elvis?”
“Quite the opposite,” Elvis said. “The silver color was the paint. I figured that the paintjob probably wouldn’t last long anyway, given our habits, and a quick sandblast made it easier to install.”
“Okay.”
Rush started walking through the maintenance room to check the mobility of the armor. The difference wasn’t huge, but the weight being more evenly distributed through the armor did make it slightly easier to move.
“Is this going to have any meaningful impact on our combat performance?”
“If we encounter more security drones, absolutely,” Elvis said cheerily.
“What about against mecha?”
“The difference is so small as to be nonexistent,” Elvis said, with significantly less cheer. “We would still be crushed in a single solid blow.”
“Isn’t the energy redirection field from the drone usable?”
“It is ‘usable’, but it’s designed for anti-personnel usage,” Elvis said. “It can’t redirect the amount of energy a mecha’s weapons or physical strikes would generate. We do still have the salvaged field generator from the last defeated mecha, however!”
“Combine the field projector from this unit with the energy system from the mecha unit,” Rush said. “Should meet our needs.”
“A task I’d recommend we get to as soon as possible,” Elvis said. “We can only count on near-misses so many times.”
“We’ll get to it when we’re back in the caravan,” Rush said. “We should finish exploring first.”
“Then on that note, I recommend we regroup with Giza and the other scouts,” Elvis said. “We are better equipped to protect them now, and many hands make light work.”
Rush started heading back down the hallway without a word. The door leading back into the gift shop area was still locked, but it popped open once Elvis flexed his newfound security clearance. The door opened, Rush stepped through, and a metal rod immediately flew through the air and bounced off the faceplate of his armor.
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“See? That would’ve chipped the paint,” Elvis said. Rush, utterly unaffected by something hitting him in the head, looked around to see Giza and Liam staring at him in a mix of confusion and fear.
“Did you throw that at me?”
The fear dropped off Giza’s face, though the confusion did remain.
“Rush?”
“Yes.”
Giza crossed the room in a second and grabbed Rush by the helmet to shake his head.
“Where’ve you been? Why do you look different?”
“Elvis found a way to improve my armor,” Rush said.
“Rush, you’ve been gone for two hours,” Giza said. “You said you were going to get out, then we heard fighting, and then you were just gone!”
“Because I won.”
“We didn’t know that!”
Giza pulled away from him, and Rush got a better look at her hands. They were red and raw, as if she had been working on some impossible task for too long. Rush glanced back at the door and saw that the bottom and sides were scuffed. It didn’t take Rush long to do the math.
“You were worried about me.”
“Of course I was,” Giza snapped. “I thought you were dead! And you were just changing your fucking clothes!”
“Replacing armor plates takes a long time.”
Had the crowbar still been in Giza’s hands, she would’ve thrown it at Rush all over again. She settled for storming out of the room instead. Rush watched her leave, and didn’t move. Liam endured about three seconds of his stony silence before sighing and starting to play middleman.
“Teenagers, right?”
“I’m also a teenager,” Rush said.
“Then you should know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t.”
Liam rubbed his brows.
“Giza’s sensitive about people she cares for leaving her,” Liam explained.
“Oh. I didn’t realize she cared about me.”
“She’s barely left your side since you showed up,” Liam said.
“Because she’s interested in the armor,” Rush said. “Just like you.”
Liam’s head snapped up and stared at the blank face of the Scrapper suit. It was unnerving, but he knew that even if that blank mask were stripped away, the equally blank face of Rush would not be much different.
“That’s...why would you think that?”
“Giza has a father but no mother, and an intense interest in my combat capabilities versus mecha. The clan’s sleeper hauler has more spaces for people than it has actual people,” Rush said. “I assume Giza’s mother was killed some time ago in a mecha attack, along with a large portion of the clan, presumably including someone you cared about. You both want to use the Scrapper suit for revenge.”
“You’re half right,” Liam said, with a nervous chuckle. “I joined after the attack.”
Rush said nothing, so Liam continued.
“Look, if you’re smart enough to figure all that out, you should be smart enough to figure out why Giza’s upset,” Liam said. “Just go apologize for worrying her.”
“Okay.”
“And take off the damn helmet when you do,” Liam said. “It’s better when you look people in the eye.”
“Okay.”
Liam gestured towards the exit. Rush took two steps that way and then stopped.
“If you don’t want revenge,” Rush began. “Why are you so interested in the suit?”
“Because I don’t want to get killed by a mecha,” Liam said. Then he gestured to the other door, the one leading deeper into the facility. “Plus, it opens doors that lead to loot.”
That answer seemed to satisfy Rush, and he stepped out to smooth things over with Giza. As soon as he was out the door, Liam walked across the room to peer further into the facility. He wondered just how many doors that suit could open, and what those doors could lead to.