Mecha Rogue (20 page)

When Matt arrived, Ione lay sweating on a gurney, strapped down to its stainless rails. Her face was flushed, and the straps had rubbed the skin at her wrists raw. She'd been left there alone!

Anger shot through Matt like an electric current. “Where's Arksham?” he snapped at Gonsalves.

“He's awaiting programming in the residential blocks marked as temporary holding cells, sir,” Gonsalves said.

“So you just left her here?” Matt exclaimed, pointing at Ione.

“I'm sorry, sir, but nonfunctional staff are given lowest priority.” Gonsalves looked genuinely sad.

So they would have left her here to die! Matt grabbed Gonsalves by the lapels of his suit, wanting to slam him against the hard stainless walls of Dr. Arksham's office.

Gonsalves didn't resist. He just looked apologetically at Matt and waited for his punishment. He was only a messenger. In some ways less than a machine. Matt blew out a long breath and let Gonsalves go. “I'm sorry,” Matt said.

“For what, sir?”

Matt shook his head. Gonsalves wouldn't fully understand, not while he was still programmed.

“Get Dr. Arksham out of the residential block,” Matt ordered. “And get him back in this office!”

“It may take some time, sir.”

“Do it now!” Matt snapped. He went to bend over Ione. Her breath came slow and steady, despite the heat radiating from her body.

“I'll save you,” Matt said. “I will.”

When Gonsalves came back with Dr. Arksham, the man shot a single angry glance at Matt before going to work, attaching Ione's intravenous feed and stuffing her into a cooling bag again.

“What's going on?” Arksham asked as he worked. “Am I to take from your attire that you've made another conversion of convenience, and now salute Rayder?”

Matt looked down, suddenly remembering the uniform he was wearing. His face reddened in embarrassment. He had to get some real clothes.

“I killed Rayder,” Matt told Arksham. “He's dead.”

The old man looked over his shoulder at Matt, his eyes deeply skeptical. He studied Matt for several seconds before seeming to come to a decision. “If that is true, congratulations. At the moment, please forgive me if I don't shake your hand.”

“It is true. And I will make this right. Just as soon as . . .” Matt trailed off.

“As soon as what?”

“As soon as we figure out how to reverse Rayder's programming.” Matt explained the problem to Arksham. The grizzled HuMax listened patiently, his expression softening slightly as Matt told his story.

“Not a clue,” Arksham said. “Doesn't sound like any technique I've come across.”

Matt nodded. The closest thing was Kyle. If he only knew what the Union had done to reverse the process—

Wait. Pieces fell into place with almost palpable thunks. Matt turned to Gonsalves.

“A technician said that Rayder has fourteen thousand agents at other IGOs. Are any of these deployed in the Universal Union?”

Gonsalves studied his slate. “Five thousand one hundred of them, sir.”

Matt started, then bellowed a laugh. Five thousand Corsair agents in the Universal Union? Congress would come apart at the seams if they knew!

“Find out if any of our agents have access to Mecha Corps captain Kyle Peterov's medical records, specifically a procedure he'd undergone on Mecha Base.” It was possible they were sealed too deeply, but it was also possible that was the shortcut they needed.

“Will do, sir,” Gonsalves said, and headed out the door.

When he was gone, Matt went to sit beside Ione's bed. The medical readouts were incomprehensible to him, except the most basic. But he saw her vital signs were still in the green, and the display appeared to indicate she was still being nourished intravenously.

“It'll be all right,” Matt said, taking her hand. It was warm, very warm. Calluses from her hard work in
El Dorado
still felt rough on his fingertips. But her hand was limp. She didn't respond at all, didn't make a sound.

“It'll be all right,” Matt said again, his voice high and tight. It was very loud in the still room.

Was he trying to convince Ione?

Or himself?

* * *

Even with Kyle's medical records, it took an entire week to work up a process to reverse Rayder's programming. Rayder had refined his process significantly from the first time they went up against him. How significantly, Matt didn't know, until he requested access to Rayder's private files and was eagerly given it.

Rayder had stolen amazing amounts of technology from Jotunheim—much of it after Matt and the Union had left him for dead. An automated safety process of the long-dormant HuMax city had sucked him in before he burned up in the core of the planet, and robotic medical systems had brought him back to health. It was an unthinking reflex of the grand city, something Jotunheim would have done for anyone falling through the shaft.

But what it let Rayder do, more importantly, was to gain access to the deepest level of surviving HuMax technology, without the Union discovering him. He'd brought advanced mind control with him when he finally came to the surface, months later. Its first deployment had been on a Union Displacement Drive ship, which he'd used to escape Jotunheim.

Rayder had also brought Mecha tech out of Jotunheim—and, adding to Matt's rage, much of it was based on a fragment of Matt's own Demon, rather than HuMax technology. Some HuMax tech was blended in to create both the segmented silver Mecha and the black humanoid ones, but the majority of it was Dr. Roth's.

I gave Rayder the key to Mecha,
Matt thought bitterly.

At the same time, how could he blame himself? Matt wondered. He was a pawn of the Union, just as Gonsalves was a pawn of Rayder.

No more. Never again.

But there was more. Much more. The mind-control process was clearly Rayder's crown jewel, but the autonomous Mecha with the Mesh-scrambling system interrupter was another important by-product of his time alone on Jotunheim. If Matt hadn't killed him, Rayder would have been in a position to take on the Union directly in a matter of months. With his web extending through the most powerful Corsair factions, and even into the highest echelons of the Union—one of Rayder's agents was a high-placed aide in the Union Congress—the outcome might have been the complete overthrow of the Union.

The rest of the tech that Rayder had brought into his personal archives was nearly incomprehensible, though. Much of it read as madness. However, Matt was able to surmise it was these shrouded conversations that led Rayder's agents to dig on Keller.

At least a third of it was text transcriptions between Rayder and another party identified only as “Contact.” Contact's replies were heavily stilted, in a manner that suggested many layers of machine translation after hard encryption:

RAYDER: The key biomechanical principle is an advanced magnetorheological application, allowing transformation of form without losing integrity?

CONTACT: No. Not. Imperfect/oddly affected thinking/language.

Biomechanical/transformative equals molecular/nuclear analog of lifeforces/communication. (reference to translation animation 0.105-03; imagery indistinct and not interpretable—support note.)

RAYDER: Nanotechnology?

CONTACT: No not no again not increase understanding! Imperfect analog/representation; higher level forces in play/in work. Life not perfect. Biotech approach perfection of form/thought/life.

RAYDER: You're not suggesting a metaphysical interpretation?

CONTACT: Physical metaphysical same/undifferentiated. Different acting in simplistic mass-based existence.

There was much more in that vein, complete with blurry diagrams that seemed to show molecular recombination. Matt shook his head. That was pure nanotech, and everyone knew nanotech didn't really work. It was one of humanity's lost dreams. Even the heights of the Expansion hadn't produced true nanotechnology, other than pure biological processes.

But if that was true, what were Mecha? How did they work? If it wasn't true nanotech, then what was it?

In their lust for power, was the Union using the same source as Rayder? Was this really magical technology from some unknown source? Were they covering up even more than Matt suspected?

Of course they were. Why did he even bother asking himself anymore?

* * *

When the mind-control reversal process was complete, they tried it on Rayder's crew first. Crew members released from programming looked around in a state of confusion, and were able to recall more details from their life before Rayder's mind control.

But when asked where their allegiance lay, every single one of them pointed to Matt and said, “Matt Lowell, sir!”

Rayder's medical staff pointed to comparative brain scans, displayed on large nonphysical screens, and pronounced them significantly changed, and in line with unprogrammed brains. The process worked, they insisted. Every part of Rayder's control had been removed.

“Residual imprinting,” Dr. Arksham told Matt, when he next went to see Ione.

The poor woman was still deep in the throes of fever. Her eyes had sunk down in their sockets, darkened by the virus burning its way through her system. She hadn't suffered any physical changes, but her hand was slim and bony, almost anorexic.

“Will she survive?” Matt asked.

Arksham sighed. He'd softened toward Matt of late, as his real concern for Ione was apparent. “I'm doing everything I can.”

“Tell me.”

A head shake. “Impossible to tell.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying to you. I'd tell you if I knew.” Dr. Arksham crossed his arms. “I thought you were interested in the apparent failure of the mind-control reversals.”

Matt nodded. “Yes. Yes. Residual imprinting, you said?”

“Might be. Or it's really failing. Why don't you try it on Hector or Federico? You'll know then.”

“And if it doesn't work, and I turn their brains to mush?”

Arksham barked a laugh. “There are plenty of people on Esplandian who'd say it wouldn't make a difference.”

“Not funny! Hector is a greater leader than he could pretend to be, and Federico is damn sharp.”

“I know. I'm sorry. But you have to look at the facts. The scans show the programming has been removed. It also shows there's no damage to the person's mind. The reversal process can't hurt Hector.”

“Unless there's something we can't image, something we can't measure,” Matt said.

Arksham crossed his arms and shook his head. “No. Now you're going mystical on me. The process works. The person's brain is unharmed.”

Matt frowned, but said nothing.

“You'll never know if it works unless you try it on someone you're familiar with,” Arksham continued.

Matt gave in. He had to know. He asked Gonsalves to come down to the chamber in
Helheim
where Rayder's doctors had hacked one of the programmers into a reversal machine.

Gonsalves lay back on the working slab. But as the hood came down, something sparked in his eyes. He looked at Matt—really looked at him—and nodded.

Or at least Matt thought so. Maybe he had just imagined the whole thing.

Five minutes later, the hood came off. Gonsalves blinked and opened his eyes. “All hail Matt Lowell, successor to Rayder,” Gonsalves said.

The world seemed to collapse around Matt. “It didn't work,” he said, to the doctors, to the room, to anyone who'd listen.

“Mr. Lowell will lead us to the prosperous future as the ultimate arbiter!” Gonsalves continued.

“He's worse!” Matt said. “You made him worse!”

The doctors clustered close, muttering about their scans and readouts.

“We will all follow the former major into the glorious new age!” Gonsalves cried, his voice rising.

It was useless. Gonsalves was as programmed as ever, shouting propaganda about—

Wait. “Former Major?” Matt asked.

Gonsalves's face broke into a huge grin, and he barked laughter. “Gotcha!”

“Asshole,” Matt grumbled.

Gonsalves turned serious. “You were so worried the deprogramming wasn't working, when all the numbers pointed right. You just couldn't accept that these guys would choose to follow you of their own free will. Of course I had to have a little fun with that.”

“You scared the hell out of me.”

Gonsalves grinned. “Good. Builds character.”

“What was it like? Being mind-controlled?”

“It's hard to describe,” Gonsalves told him, his face twisting in troubled memory. His cavalier attitude had simply been his way of dealing with it, Matt realized. “It's—it's not painful. The ideas were always my own. But there were walls around them. I just couldn't think certain things.”

“And you called me ‘sir,'” Matt reminded him.

“That's the scariest part!” Gonsalves cried. “Seriously, you did the universe a favor by killing that crazy fucker. Now let's get everyone deprogrammed and see where the chips land.”

“What if most of them want to go out on their own? Or want to be Rayder themselves?”

“I bet most of them will still choose to follow you,” Gonsalves said reassuringly.

“Why? I won't have mind control.”

“Exactly,” Gonsalves said. “Because you don't.”

PART THREE

TERRORIST

“Where liberty dwells, there is my country.”

—Benjamin Franklin
American Patriot

“This Expansion leads us outward to our fate, our destiny.”

—President Samuel Mayflower
Last President of the United States of America

COMPARISON OF BIOMECHANICAL TECHNOLOGY

Advanced Mechaforms vs. Corsair Sample

Version 0.4.4.3—ONGOING

CONFIDENTIAL: UARL ONLY/NOT FOR DISTRIBUTION

SUMMARY: This assessment is based on deconstruction of sample of a 2-gen Mecha from Advanced Mechaforms, Inc., aka “Hellion” and one captured pilotless Corsair Mecha, aka “Loki.”

SUPRA-LEVEL FINDING: Both the Hellion and Loki samples display advanced materials technology similar to that proposed by (ARCADIA—FURTHER IDENTITY REDACTED).

SUPRA-LEVEL INFERENCE: Both Dr. Roth and at least one Corsair faction are obtaining working knowledge from (ARCADIA) or offshoots thereof.

SUPRA-LEVEL RAMIFICATIONS: If this supposition is correct, the implications to the Union are extreme. Dr. Roth does not operate under the same constraints as the Union's (ARCADIA POLICY DOCUMENT—REDACTED). In addition, if (ARCADIA) is in communication with others beyond UARL, additional technology leaks may be present.

DETAILED FINDINGS: (REDACTED)