The lights of Alnda were stuttering to a stop as we approached the wall. Atop it we could make out the tiny figures of the guards, all walking together and making their way down various stairways and exits as their replacements marched up to take their place.
Part of me screamed to holler at them, to let them know what was coming, but Elli must have known because she grabbed my shoulder just as I was about to do…what exactly? Yell? Fool. I needed to stop letting my emotions screw around with my life, over and over again.
“No words, okay? This is the perfect opportunity to sneak back in while they’re distracted. Over the wall, over to the city square, and back home. Got it?”
I nodded and we picked up the pace again, the ghostly half-light and shadows of the hour concealing our movement from the well-distracted guards atop the parapets. The large piece of steel, probably armor plating, dug into my sides and even my legs as I tried to keep up with her.
Soon we were at the wall, stopping for a breath and to see if anyone had spotted us. We’d kept on the down low, but even then someone might have spotted us. After a good, long minute, we climbed back up, making sure we kept to the smaller slope, and then strafed off toward where we’d exited earlier. Once we were at the top, Ellin went first, peeking over the battlement.
“Clear. Move it! And don’t make a ruckus with that backpack!” she hiss-whispered, and I did so, taking double as much time as her, but then I was over and sliding down the other side. We landed with loud thuds, but by then the sound of clanking boots and the chatter of people cut the silence.
We ducked low again, dusting ourselves off as we hurried into the streets.
“Hey, you there!” a gruff voice called out from behind us.
We juked into a ruined old-tech alley, past a large abandoned building whose cracked glass-tube signage read, “Uncle Disco’s Dance Extravaganza.” A quick glance past the absent door showed a cavernous interior, with sagging rotted walls, and small hints of some glorious, vice-ridden past.
“No time for daydreaming,” Elli chided, pulling me in a second direction.
Staring ahead, I saw we were back to civilization, running over new-tech cobble, a smattering of people already drearily trudging out of their homes and onto the streets to start the morning shift. Past them lay the distant figure of the steam cart station and the even louder noises coming from its direction.
As we approached, the station emerged from the dim light, its beacons unlit, but its signage still a neon glare of opulence that stood in heavy contrast to the lopsided serf dwellings that surrounded it. Its open-air platforms were filling with the bowed heads of subsistence laborers, and as I scanned the place I made out a big clapboard sign that announced CITY CENTER EXPRESS in proud garish lettering.
In what had to have been a display of divine luck, as I pulled Elli into a headlong sprint for the platform, the steam carts pulled in, their ornate brass fittings seeming to wink at us as it steamed to a squealing stop.
“City Center Express on schedule!” a hawker cried.
We ran past him, dancing over the man’s long, patched coat whose Frankensteinian medley swept down past his knees and irresponsibly dragged on the platform surface.
“Sorry! Just in a hurry!” I yelled over my shoulder.
“Hey, no running on the platform!” he shot back at the same time. “You’ll get someone hurt, you damned kids!”
We entered the nearest steam cart, slipping through the gathering crowd of scavengers, workers, and early-morning travelers. The transaction at the steam cart was brief, two credits exchanged for passage, the conductor's practiced smile barely seen beneath the brim of his cap as he welcomed us aboard.
I dropped the backpack to the ground in front of me and settled into the rough leather seats. Elli did so as well a moment later, and we both shared a look and sighed.
“That was a good run,” I muttered, sucking in air in large gulps.
Elli nodded, looking well unhealthy with the growing bruise on her face and the dried blood on her chin. Luckily, such abuse wasn’t uncommon on workers in the city, or else we might have been called to the attention of the authorities.
As it stood, we were instead given our piece, a nice short rest in the sullen silence of the Alnda citizenry. The steam cart chugged through the city, past scenes of its awakening, before finally screeching to a halt at the City Square. We remained silent all the way so we didn’t say something that people might overhear. It wouldn’t be unthinkable for snitches to ride the steam carriages and look out for anyone who might be blaspheming or talking about illegal dealings. Information like that didn’t pay so well, but it was free money.
Taking to our feet, we pushed our way through to the platform, briefly checking our surroundings to get our bearings. The crowd waded past us as we stood there for a moment, and one man bumped into my steel plate, cursing. But the moment he saw Elli and her engineer’s cap she’d put on again, he muttered something and left.
“There,” I said, pointing out to a tall spire rising over the manufactories of the city.
Scurrying through the mess of people, we got back to the streets, now an industrial grade asphalt made specifically for the carts and rickshaws of industrial life. We clopped past workshops and bulk marts, their fumes and steam kicking up fog in these chilly early hours as I considered that Elli and her position saved me yet again. This couldn’t keep happening. I needed to grab life by the balls and finally get ahead by myself. And it wasn’t just pride, no, one of these days I’d get her into trouble, and that’s the last thing I wanted. She meant so much more to me than I wanted to admit, and that’s exactly the problem and reason why I didn’t hook up with her. It would hurt so much more if our relationship turned sour. At least for now, is the same thing I kept saying to myself.
We skittered around one corner, then another, and we were there. The siren was a simple affair, an old-tech audio tower with a series of broken glass tech displays and keys all around its base. It was an emergency klaxon, open to the public but only to be used in times of emergency. Often there was a guard posted, though they rarely cared to do their jobs well since no one was daft enough to ring a fake emergency, with those who did so dying in quite a bit of hungry pain.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
On this day and at this hour, the guard was in clear view a block away from his post, chatting with a lovely clean woman in a blue dress. They were giggling, and he was shyly toeing the pavement in front of him, twisting left and right like a schoolboy over his first crush.
“You gonna stand there and drool over muh lady, or are we going to start this damn thing?” Elli asked, imitating the guard’s voice.
“Idiot. Do you want him to hear you?” I grumbled. “You’d have another black eye, and so would I for that matter.”
She stuck her tongue out as we hurried along. Our motion caught the eye of the guard and drew out a belated, “Whatcha on about, kids? Move along!” from his suddenly angry mouth.
“Sorry, sir!” I shot back as we disappeared behind a row of buildings.
“He’s keeping an eye on the surroundings. Let’s go around,” Elli said and we did just that, moving around the row of buildings and stopping at the corner.
I peeked out around the corner and then nodded.
“Go.”
I slapped the emergency key while Elli tapped level 10 and made sure the program had accepted it. Moments later, the shrill call of the sirens tore through the brightening morning.
“Elli, let’s go!” I hissed, noticing she had yet to move away from the panel.
“Hold on – I’m imputing a delay function that should keep him from turning the siren off. It’ll take a tech-savvy person to figure it out, and hopefully by then the knights are up and ready to fight.”
The guard was trundling over to us with a grimace that spoke punches and groin kicks, and the speed at which he was moving suggested some minor enhancement surgeries. I balled up my fists, thought better of it, and dropped my pack, pulling out and extending a shovel.
“There is a real emergency coming! Mechs that we didn’t recognize are fighting with a patrol of ours out in the wild. Many of them. Enough that they definitely came here for the city,” I yelled, my brain desperately spewing a stream-of-consciousness explanation in an attempt to avoid me getting my ass kicked. “This is real danger! Get out of here and go tell your captain!”
“Fucking serf,” he spat. “If this is some sort of prank, it won’t just be me in the hunger pit. You savvy?”
“I savvy just fine,” I answered, placing his accent as southside grains district and attempting to adjust my own speech to meet it. “Look, big bad is rolling out the fields, the woods are full of screechers, ye ken? I big know the works, bullshit get ye sent to da shark tank. I’m not a BSer.”
He stopped, staring me up and down.
“You a foodtown boy too?”
“Had a stint. Good folk. No BS.”
His eyes shifted to my shovel. Behind me, Elli stood up with a final decisive click of the input button.
“It’s done, Al. Let’s get out of here!”
“Is my head, but I trust ya. Enemy mechs at the doorstep, ya?”
I nodded.
“I’ll report it. I can see you down-lowing, so mum is the word. Get out of here, Foodtown lite. I got this sorted, and if it’s true, find me. Now get!”
I thanked him and put my shovel away. Together Elli and I made our way back to the steam carts, paying the fee once more and rolling over the tracks back to the workshop.
The siren’s blare had people rushing to the walls, ecstatic faces clearly showing that they were anticipating a monster attack, and I hoped they wouldn’t get hurt when the mechs showed and started blasting at the city walls.
Those people had little enough going for them already that they didn’t need to get killed by stray fire.
We sprinted out of the steam cart and headed for the workshop. My neck, back, and legs ached as we did, the heavy weight of ruck and plate finally bringing me down, and after unlocking and slapping open the door, I collapsed to the floor, shedding all my burdens off and giving myself one long sigh.
Elli dropped her pack, too, shutting and locking the door before uncovering CD. His farmer image appeared almost immediately.
“Why are the sirens blaring? Oh, no! Did they catch you? I didn't hear anything. Hide me! Now! I don’t want to get--”
“We didn't get caught, you scared little shit,” I said, cutting him off. “All big talk about killing us apes and getting scared at a little siren.”
“Enough, Al, come on,” Elli said, shooting me an irritated look. “If CD didn't hear us talking--”
“The jammer is in effect,” CD growled. “Whoever has it, or whatever mech is producing that effect, is here. Tell me about what you saw.”
“Strange-looking mechs. They don’t seem too tough, but one of them sucks in soil and creates stone boulders that it can hurl far away.”
“Ah, yes. Boulders. Such a powerful technological armament. We should abandon this place immediately,” CD blurted sarcastically. “Oh, whatever will we do? Boulders are coming!”
Elli stepped forward, her bruised face painfully swollen.
“Not the time for jokes, CD. This might be some serious danger. There were so many of them. They sound like Barbars, and from what I’ve heard, Barbars strike hard and numerous from the wilds, tear through cities for loot and labor, and then disappear back to where they came from. They enslave people, CD. And if they get a hold of you, they’d probably enslave you as well.”
“The notion,” CD pahhed. He cast a display onto the wall, a circle with a sweeping line, an active pinging noise sounding through the room on each swing. “I've modified my scanners to run active ping countermeasures. It won't fix our comms but, assuming the jamming effect is passive, I should be able to get data on the approaching forces.”
After a few moments, faint circles appeared on the very edge of his display. One flashed red, and another display leapt from it, appearing on the wall beside the first.
Mech Unit “Unknown Classification”
Processing – Codename: Ape Killer
Class: Reconnaissance Assault Mech
Tech Level: Primitive Ape
Armor Rating: 650
Core Power Source: Crystalized Core (Level 3)
Estimated Pilot Synchronization Rate: 37%
Estimated Abilities:
Stilted Agility: Increases movement speed by about half on uneven terrain. Reduces damage from falls and impacts by an uncertain percentage.
Ballista Barrage: Launches a volley of supersonic bolts on recharge. Reusable once every…unsure. Perhaps a minute?
Visor Scan: Can pinpoint weak points within a 500-yard radius…
Core Overdrive: Temporarily boosts mech's speed and attack by up to 50% for…a short while.
Customizations:
Reinforced Plating, Motion Silencers, Rapid Reloaders
Estimated Weaknesses:
Vulnerable to EMP and high-frequency sound attacks.
Core overdraw can lead to automatic shutdown
Possible Scavenge:
Core Fragments
High-Tensile Alloy Plates
Ballista Bolts
Processed Description:
The Stiltwalker Mech, with its long-legged design, is optimized for reconnaissance and rapid assault in rugged terrains. Its distinctive silhouette allows for swift movement over obstacles that would hinder other mech types. The red visor is a sophisticated scanning tool that gives pilots a strategic advantage on the battlefield. Despite its frame growth from amazingly superior alien tech, the outer frame’s ape design is feasibly advantageous on the battlefield.
RATING: I give this design an Ape-Plus.
“That is amazing!” Elli exclaimed. “How do you do that?”
“Active radar lock, pre-invasion satellite collation, atmospheric—oh,” he said, locking his eyes on me. “I mean, magic. It’s magic. Look, I can do a mech a minute if necessary, but I estimate that these mechs aren’t nearly a match for the Cataphracts and Toxotais of this city. It seems likely that the apemen of these wilds were planning to catch the city by surprise. Indeed, rather than fear this invasion, we should seize upon it. I have a mission for you two, a desperate one really given our timetable.”
“Yeah, what is it,” I asked, casting him a suspicious glare.
“You are to head back out of the walls, and steal one of these Ape Killers.”