Chapter 4: Silverback

  Before you come at me, Major Jones’ idea was to do the contracts in her car, and I felt it just came off as suspicious. She didn’t have an office, and neither did I. And I’d made an effort to try and keep it somewhat clean: Chris Rock was right about that champagne room, at least.

  Unlike Amy, I didn’t bother with a resignation letter. I just dropped my nametag on the owner’s desk in the back, along with the security shirt that came with the job. Thank fuck I’d worn a singlet, at least.

  I didn’t follow Amy, as she walked out of the club. Chasing her would’ve solved nothing. Instead, once I got back to my apartment, I grabbed a beer from the fridge, and decided to brainstorm ways of making amends, but where would I even begin?

  I’ll admit it freely: If you knew me back when I was a mech pilot, you’d probably want to slap the shit out of me. What you have to understand about teenagers, is that they’re not necessarily complete sociopaths, but a lot of them are dumb as hell, with no ability to think in terms of the future. And to be honest, that previous chapter had been a pretty apt, even borderline generous description of me as the person I used to be. I was a Grade-A edge-lord, the product of old Call of Duty lobbies, nu-metal, and the Attitude and Ruthless Aggression eras of pro wrestling. It was an act to try and act tough, but to be fair, I was the only Latino in my high school, and an emo kid par excellence. Plus, Port Moonstone State High was, and to this day still is, the kind of school where even the emo kids and the nerds have to know how to throw a punch. If you haven’t got hands like prime Ali or can’t dish insults like a drill sergeant, you will not survive. And in my defence, the only reason I picked that fight at the formal, was because a guy at my school was cheating on a girl from her school, with another dude from Port Moonstone State High, and had the nerve to brag about it. So, yes, petty high school drama, but it seemed important at the time.

  But life does go on. People change, maybe. I wanted to believe that I was different now. I still had a chip on my shoulder RE: the Army, but it had taught me discipline, and the keys to an effective military unit. Here’s the secret: In a military unit, you will get guys who don’t like one another. Somebody stole somebody’s girlfriend, somebody doesn’t like your religion, or your politics, or your footy team, whatever. If the unit is to walk into hell and survive, they need to have each other’s back. It’s why they used to have regiments all be guys from the same town: theoretically they know each other, and will look after one another. So if Amy and I were going to be in the same unit, we needed to be cohesive.

  And I needed to eat every man’s least favourite dish: humble pie.

  I called her, trying to think of all the words I’d say, wondering how she’d take it. When the BEEP of a voicemail came up, it had to be the biggest relief I’d experienced in a long time. I leaned back.

  “Amy, it’s me, Elias. Uh, look- I wanted to apologize. Again. For everything. For bringing you to the club, for the formal, and just in general for the kind of asshole I used to be. I’m – I have changed. And if you’ll give me half a chance, maybe if we actually work together, maybe I might surprise you. Talk to you at training.”

  I hung up and began cooking dinner: good old fashioned pescado frito, with a serving of chips. I chopped up a little bit of salad to go with it, before I turned on my laptop, and checked the news.

  Nobody had reported on me and Amy’s battle against the rubbish monster. I’d always found it weird that once I graduated high school, I completely stopped hearing about Port Moonstone in the news, and I never heard another report of monsters, or Iron Mask or whatever. The war hadn’t really stopped: the enemy had simply gone to ground, and disappeared into whatever dimensional rift they’d crawled out of. No truce was called, no surrender given. Once again, life went on, as if we’d never been here, as if Port Moonstone had never been here.

  An idea popped into my head, and I couldn’t quite dismiss it. If I could pull this off, I could really win a lot of brownie points, with Amy and maybe the Major. But the steps I’d have to take, and the amends I’d have to make? Plus, if I couldn’t pull it off, I risked ruining not just this partnership, I risked ruining everyone else’s hard work. Nope. I stretched out on the couch, kicked off my boots and set my alarm for tomorrow, dreaming of steel beasts and big guns.

  The next day, I went to the appointed place: Mount Daymoon military base. Or former military base: The minute I’d handed over the keys to Puma One, I’d seen contractors rip the base apart. I’d never seen the government move so efficiently before, or since.

  The Major was waiting, sunglasses on. She tapped her watch. “Tick tock, Beltran. You’re late. Get inside: Training starts today.”

  I scurried inside. The bunker had been carved into Mount Daymoon, similar to Cheyenne Mountain, State-side. I guess the government had forgotten to detonate the place, because a lot of the infrastructure was somehow still standing.

  Walking in, the bunker itself was cavernous. Gargantuan even, the kind of place you could get lost in. Some construction workers were carrying materials. I shook my head. No way could this be cheap.

  “Serious question, Major-“

  “Call me Ms. Jones. We’re not in the Army anymore, Beltran. And no questions. We need to see if you two are up to scratch. Remember this?”

  I was directed to a machine that looked almost like an egg. A door opened to a cockpit. I needed. “Yeah. I was your best pilot, remember?”

  “Show me. We’re going to run a simulation.”

  Off to the side, I could see Amy wearing a VR headset. She didn’t acknowledge me as I climbed into the cockpit.

  A mech pilot simulator doesn’t really look that different to a flight simulator, but it did have a VR helmet for me to wear. I put it on, booted it up and leaned back in the chair. It was good to be home.

  The briefing in the VR simulation was simple: Monsters were pouring out of a dimensional rift into Port Moonstone, aided by local terrorist, Iron Mask. Our job would be to blast these things back to whatever alien dimension they crawled out of.

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  I completed the pre-flight checklist, before launching the mech. I frowned. This thing felt slower than Puma One. But I couldn’t focus on that now. My city needed me.

  Engaging the thrusters, I began flying to the city. Everything felt slower, so I routed more power to the engines. A crackly voice came over comms.

  “Amethyst, do you copy, over?”

  “Loud and clear boss! Uh, over.”

  “Good. Silverback, do you copy, over?”

  Silverback? The gorilla mech? I reminded myself to pimp-slap whoever was coming up with these codenames. But at least I had a better idea of my capabilities. I’d need more power than Puma One to move, but maybe I could learn to work around that.

  “Copy, boss. Or would you prefer-”

  “Focus, Silverback. Iron Mask and co. believe this will be a target rich environment. Your job is to minimize loss of life. I want to see what you two will do when you’re together. Boss out.”

  The city came into view, and I touched down somewhere on the northern side. First order of business: secure the area.

  Back in the day, the Army and QPS knew enough to try and stay out of our way. In a really dire situation, the poor bastards in infantry would try to shepherd as many civvies as possible from areas of maximum danger, while Cavalry would work on defending strategic areas, with fire support from Navy and Air Force where needed. I looked around. No fire support.

  “Boss, interface with Canberra. Where the fuck’s our fire support, over?”

  “No dice, Silverback. Assume any and all ADF forces are either dead or not co-operating. Welcome to the mercenary life, over.”

  I swore. “What about QPS, over?”

  “Evacuating civvies, and outgunned. Assume no assistance available from any source. Complete the mission. Boss out.”

  I swore again. I stepped in, and took stock of the alien forces that were arriving. This particular species looked humanoid in build, but not quite human: a little bit equine, a little bit canine, and with no skin or muscle on their faces. Yeesh. Their weaponry looked like rifles, and they were pouring out of some sort of APC. For the poor bloody infantry on ground? Dangerous. But while I couldn’t speak to the Crystalline Sisters, this was a walk in the park for Puma One or Silverback.

  “Alright. Amethyst, you’re up. Clear these assholes out. Over.”

  Amethyst stepped out in front pointing her umbrella, but nothing was happening. She began to panic. “I- I can’t do it! Something’s wrong!”

  The enemy soldiers were beginning to notice her, so I popped off a pair of missiles, striking the APC and blowing it to smithereens. I then followed up by stepping over Amy and started striking with enormous fists, crushing the virtual soldiers under the weight of thousands of tonnes of steel and fury. I was biting my tongue, making sure I’d say nothing, when the Major’s voice crackled in.

  “Amethyst, report in. What the hell was that, over?”

  “I couldn’t fire! I- I don’t know what just happened! I can’t even transform!”

  “Find a way. If it wasn’t for Silverback, you’d be dead a hundred times over. Now stick to the mission parameters. Find Iron Mask. Boss out.”

  “Do we even know where he’d be?”

  “Do I look like Google Maps? Find. And. Eliminate. Or. Incapacitate. The. Target. Boss out.”

  I breathed deeply, and looked down at Amethyst. She looked like she’d transformed, but I’m guessing the VR simulator couldn’t account for magic. If I was going to win this scenario, I was going in alone. I scanned the buildings for our target, until I found him. I frowned. I’d never seen or dealt with Iron Mask, personally: I’d always handled larger scale threats. But everything I did know about him suggested he would never be anywhere near the action.

  I pointed him out, as he began moving. “Target acquired, he’s in the skyscraper on the corner of King Harold and Parker Ave. I could collapse the building on him, but-“

  “That’s a negative, Silverback. Unacceptable levels of collateral. Amethyst, you take him. Silverback, we’ve got bigger problems. Make your way to the Port, over.”

  “10-9 boss, you want us to split?”

  “Affirmative. We have sightings, suspected to be Rahab, but do not have visual, over.”

  Rahab. Even after all these years, the name still left a nasty taste in my mouth. From a purely tactical POV, getting both at once would be an absolute coup. But Amethyst was a worry.

  “Roger that, boss. Moving to the port. Recommend liasing with QPS or-“

  “Break, I’m in charge of this operation. You both follow my orders.”

  I understood. “Copy that. Good luck, Amethyst.”

  I began moving away, as Amy scurried into the building. It wasn’t long before I heard fire alarms, but I ignored them, as I made my way to the port at full speed. Once again, I cursed Silverback’s relative lack of speed, compared to Puma One, but I had a plan. Puma One had speed, but Silverback had weight, and I was going to use it.

  I was confronted at the port by what I can only describe as a giant, blue human with the head of a catfish. As I roared a defiant challenge, I started by using my targeting laser to blind him, then fired off a salvo of missiles to knock him off balance. The missiles, for the most part, struck home, but I knew Rahab to be resistant.

  Out of missiles, I braced for impact and shoulder charged Rahab, bowling him back into the water. The crash was nasty but satisfying, shaking the entire cockpit. Next, I leapt onto him, using his nasty catfish face as a speedbag, before just laying into him with big metal fists. My blows were hitting, but he didn’t seem to react, just shoved me off, before standing to his full height and returning the favours. The cockpit began to shake, and warning lights were blaring. If I didn’t do something drastic, this would not go well. I could hear Amy screaming on the radio, but there was nothing I could do for her. Fuck it. Death or glory.

  I still had my chaingun left. I blasted him in his eyes, before returning to a squat position, then backing away slowly. Rahab charged me again, but I had a plan. I grappled with him, using the greater weight and strength of Silverback to get him stuck, then delivered a nasty overhand strike. Once he was disorientated, I essentially threw him over Silverback’s shoulders into some powerlines, electrocuting it. Rahab roared in pain, but I didn’t let up, delivering a few more nasty hits with Silverback’s full weight.

  One I’d confirmed it was dead, the simulation cut out. I unbuckled my seatbelt and crawled out of the cockpit, stretching, smiling after what I thought was a successful mission. Amy looked like she was about to cry, and the Major was laying into her.

  “That has got to have been the sloppiest CQC I’ve ever seen in my life! Who the ever-loving fuck let you in the Crystalline Sisters!? How do you expect to survive a single day, if you can’t even use your powers, and follow basic orders!?”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “Sorry’s not good enough, you absolute disgrace to the Crystalline Initiative!”

  I stood between Amy and the Major. “That’s enough.”

  “I don’t recall giving you permission to interject, Beltran-“

  The Major never actually finished her sentence, as Amy transformed again. She pointed her umbrella at the Major, and I stepped between them. Sure, an idiotic, self-sacrificing move, but if I didn’t do something, she was going to do something we were all going to regret.