Rock when he told them that. HuMax were extinct, they said. You’re just a little kid, they said. You’re too young to remember clearly, they said. Eventually, he’d stopped talking about it. Eventually, he’d started doubting even his own Perfect Record.
But he never lost the need for revenge. He would find that Corsair, no matter what it took, and courage would have another reward. One that might finally heal his terrible pain.
Matt scrambled off the machine, nearly falling. He took several steps away from it. He drew in ragged breaths, almost panting.
“Are you . . . all right?” Pechter asked.
Matt realized the room was full of cadets too. Kyle stood with his arms crossed at the edge of the curtains. Michelle leaned against a tent pole on the opposite side of the room, watching him. Sergey sat on a bench, looking at Matt with bored eyes. The Hyva twins leaned over the shoulders of the Auxiliaries for a closer look.
“What happened?” Matt asked.
“Damn machine locked up. You’ve been out half an hour.” Pechter’s wide eyes alternated between the slate and Matt. “How do you feel?”
I feel like I just lost everything that ever mattered to me. Again.
“I . . . I’m okay.”
Pechter shook his head. “Well, if that’s true, you’re holding up the line, rich kid. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all be at chow.”
“Is he out of interface state?” a voice said from Pechter’s slate.
Pechter jumped and fumbled with the pad, then addressed it. “Yes, sir.”
“What is his final test result?” said the voice.
“Passed. Though I have no idea how.” Pechter gripped the glowing green slate tightly.
“Your ideas are not important,” the voice said.
“What, uh . . . what should we do with him, sir?”
“Proceed as with any other passing candidate.”
“Yes. Understood.”
Pechter’s slate displayed the END CONNECTION icon. He stood there, staring at it for a time.
“Who was that?” Matt asked.
Pechter swallowed. “That was the general manager, Dr. Salvatore Roth.”
Matt started. Dr. Roth was the person who’d perfected biomechanical technology, the father of all modern Mecha. Everybody knew that, but little more. His company, Advanced Mechaforms, Inc., wrapped itself deep in Union state secrecy. He didn’t give interviews. He didn’t do press tours explaining his technology. Armchair speculators loved to guess at Dr. Roth’s secrets, when they’d never seen a Mecha at all.
“Why would Dr. Roth—,” Matt began.
Pechter held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter. The machine had a little problem. You passed. All is well. Gold stars for everyone. If we had gold stars.” He turned to wave at Kyle. “You’re next. Come on up!”
Matt wasn’t ready to be dismissed. He got in front of Pechter. “How many times has it malfunctioned like that?”
Pechter looked away. “Not too often.”
“Like, how many? An estimate?”
“Like, never,” Pechter said, through clenched teeth.
Matt shivered. Never. What did that mean? Was it because of his father’s gift? His Perfect Record? Did other cadets experience the same flashbacks he did, or was that something special? Was that why Michelle looked so disturbed ?
Pechter pushed Matt aside. “Now, if you’ll get out of the way, I can get on with testing.”
Matt nodded and stepped away. Kyle took a seat on the machine and lay back. The helmet went down. Pechter’s slate glowed green. Then, only moments later, Kyle stood up and looked at the machine uneasily, like Michelle.
Uneasy. Not screaming in vivid memory. Just like Michelle. What had happened to him?
They cycled through the cadets quickly. Nobody took more than a few seconds to complete the test. Everyone showed some degree of unease or revulsion when coming off the machine.
Until the sixth cadet. A thin woman in her early twenties, her hair still caked with swamp mud. She lay back underneath the hood. It came down over her, and her expression didn’t change. When she
But he never lost the need for revenge. He would find that Corsair, no matter what it took, and courage would have another reward. One that might finally heal his terrible pain.
Matt scrambled off the machine, nearly falling. He took several steps away from it. He drew in ragged breaths, almost panting.
“Are you . . . all right?” Pechter asked.
Matt realized the room was full of cadets too. Kyle stood with his arms crossed at the edge of the curtains. Michelle leaned against a tent pole on the opposite side of the room, watching him. Sergey sat on a bench, looking at Matt with bored eyes. The Hyva twins leaned over the shoulders of the Auxiliaries for a closer look.
“What happened?” Matt asked.
“Damn machine locked up. You’ve been out half an hour.” Pechter’s wide eyes alternated between the slate and Matt. “How do you feel?”
I feel like I just lost everything that ever mattered to me. Again.
“I . . . I’m okay.”
Pechter shook his head. “Well, if that’s true, you’re holding up the line, rich kid. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all be at chow.”
“Is he out of interface state?” a voice said from Pechter’s slate.
Pechter jumped and fumbled with the pad, then addressed it. “Yes, sir.”
“What is his final test result?” said the voice.
“Passed. Though I have no idea how.” Pechter gripped the glowing green slate tightly.
“Your ideas are not important,” the voice said.
“What, uh . . . what should we do with him, sir?”
“Proceed as with any other passing candidate.”
“Yes. Understood.”
Pechter’s slate displayed the END CONNECTION icon. He stood there, staring at it for a time.
“Who was that?” Matt asked.
Pechter swallowed. “That was the general manager, Dr. Salvatore Roth.”
Matt started. Dr. Roth was the person who’d perfected biomechanical technology, the father of all modern Mecha. Everybody knew that, but little more. His company, Advanced Mechaforms, Inc., wrapped itself deep in Union state secrecy. He didn’t give interviews. He didn’t do press tours explaining his technology. Armchair speculators loved to guess at Dr. Roth’s secrets, when they’d never seen a Mecha at all.
“Why would Dr. Roth—,” Matt began.
Pechter held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter. The machine had a little problem. You passed. All is well. Gold stars for everyone. If we had gold stars.” He turned to wave at Kyle. “You’re next. Come on up!”
Matt wasn’t ready to be dismissed. He got in front of Pechter. “How many times has it malfunctioned like that?”
Pechter looked away. “Not too often.”
“Like, how many? An estimate?”
“Like, never,” Pechter said, through clenched teeth.
Matt shivered. Never. What did that mean? Was it because of his father’s gift? His Perfect Record? Did other cadets experience the same flashbacks he did, or was that something special? Was that why Michelle looked so disturbed ?
Pechter pushed Matt aside. “Now, if you’ll get out of the way, I can get on with testing.”
Matt nodded and stepped away. Kyle took a seat on the machine and lay back. The helmet went down. Pechter’s slate glowed green. Then, only moments later, Kyle stood up and looked at the machine uneasily, like Michelle.
Uneasy. Not screaming in vivid memory. Just like Michelle. What had happened to him?
They cycled through the cadets quickly. Nobody took more than a few seconds to complete the test. Everyone showed some degree of unease or revulsion when coming off the machine.
Until the sixth cadet. A thin woman in her early twenties, her hair still caked with swamp mud. She lay back underneath the hood. It came down over her, and her expression didn’t change. When she
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