Тим Пауэрс: Bugs and Known Problems

April 13, 2407 AD

Alien Megaship

Target Star #17

742 Light Years from Sol System

Friday 9:40 A.M. Expeditionary Fleet Standard Time

“ Move your ass, Navy !” Deanna shouted as loud as she could. Granted at the moment that was probably not very loud, considering she was upside down with her FM-13X transfigurable fighter mecha pinned against a bulkhead of an alien megaship by a Chiata porcupine fighter, with the alien’s green glowing expanding tendrils speared through most of her fighter and her left thigh.

“Apple1, Ares squadron is several moments out!” the voice on the tac-net alerted her. “We are seeing much more resistance than expected.”

“Resistance, hell, this is suicide! We should flash out of here now!” another, younger, and much more frightened voice said. The icon in Deanna’s direct to mind, or DTM, display told her it was a fresh out Navy aviator that had yet to be inside a Chiata Horde’s megaship during a grab-and-go mission.

“Stow that shit, Ensign. Ares squadron keep pressing forward!!” their squadron leader ordered.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Deanna realized that the Archangels’ backup wasn’t coming anytime soon. If she didn’t already know that the best pilot in the universe was Navy she’d be cursing the entire branch of the military. But her wingman had split off into Team A and left her to lead Team B. She had no idea what had happened to DeathRay since he flashed out with his half of the Archangels to the second target ship. Oh, she could see his icon in her Blue Force tracker on the mindview of the battlescape, but he was thousands of kilometers away on another alien ship.

“Shit, we’re on our own, Skippy,” she muttered to the little alien beetle bot that was holding on to her armored shoulder as though it required no effort at all. She thought her father had been a bit overzealous in attempting to take two Chiata megaships in one attack. But on the other hand, it blessed her with plenty of Chiata to kill. “Team B, looks like we’re alone in here. I hope DeathRay is doing a bit better.”

“Apple1, it is really thick down here. What are your plans?” Lieutenant Tina “FreeMason” Barkley, one of the newest Archangels, asked. Dee could tell from her mindview of the battlescape that the new pilot was holding her own, but was in some thick shit with her wingman “Monopoly,” who was a deck below and a few hundred meters back.

“We don’t let the fuck up!” Dee grunted as she used her left armored hand to partially extend the suit’s sword blade. She swiped the blade through the tendril in her leg and yanked it free. Green, glowing alien blood squirted from the armored mechanized alien appendage like a firehose spraying the cockpit. “Fuck that hurt!”

Deanna didn’t have time to watch her armored suit seal the wound or to bitch about the pain and blood loss. Her team was getting hammered and they had yet to complete their mission: to secure the bridge of the alien megaship. She felt the entire ship suddenly jerk as if it had been pounded by gluonium bombs. The bulkheads vibrated so hard that her teeth chattered against her mouthpiece. She accidentally bit down on the block that released stimulants and pure oxygen into her helmet. She probably needed the stims anyway.

“Shit! We have to move, Archangels!”

“Warning, multiple systems failures are imminent. Warning structural integrity fields are at nine percent and failing,” the Bitchin’ Betty chimed.

Dee, this mecha is toast. We should flash out to the Madira, her artificial intelligence counterpart—or AIC—Bree, who was embedded in her head just behind her left ear, told her in her direct-to-mind voice.

No goddamned way! I promised Davy I was killing ten of these alien bastards today and I’ve yet to kill but three! Dee’s mindvoice screamed at her AIC.

Major, we must abandon this mecha. It is reaching critical status, Bree warned her again.

You’re right about this mecha though, Bree. Dee toggled the canopy eject cycle and the explosive bolts fired the transparent metal into the porcupine mecha that was wrapping its tendrils around her upside-down bot mode fighter. The flying canopy bounded into the cockpit of the alien craft, knocking it backwards just enough to loosen its grip on her mecha’s torso. Dee pulled the ejection handle. This mecha is history. Blow it when I’m clear!

Holy shit, Dee!

The ejection seat fired, slamming Dee helpless against the couch from the extreme gee loading. As the seat rocketed away from the alien bulkhead and her crushed mecha, the tip of the headrest caught against the alien fighter. This induced a crazy, mad, spinning tumble, on her. Fortunately for Dee, the interior of the upper deck of the alien megaship was immense, and there was plenty of room to flail about.

The ejection had startled the one alien that had her, but the porcupine’s wingman was hot on her trail, firing green plasma bolts across her trajectory. Dee held on for dear life, hoping the gods of crazy assed U.S. Marines were smiling on her at the moment. She looked at targeting Xs about her in her mindview of the battlescape as she spun across the chasm that led to the final upwell to the bridge of the ship, hoping she could turn her misfortune into a plan. Just as the green plasma from the alien’s wingman looked like it was going to track into her path, Bree exploded her damaged mecha.

The quantum generators of the FM-13X her grandmother had made for her became a fireball of orange and white plasma and high velocity shrapnel that skittered across the vast alien room into several of the Chiata that were closing in on her. Two of the Chiata were knocked backward off their feet. The one that was octopus-hugging her mecha burst into glowing green and red liquids, liquid metal, and plasma across the deck plating.

That’s four, Davy! she thought.

The hardpoints of Dee’s armored suit disconnected from the spinning ejection chair allowing her to engage her jumpboots against the base of the chair flinging her free. As she somersaulted and rolled across the deck to bleed off the energy of her trajectory, she expanded the sword on her left arm and pulled the hypervelocity automatic rifle up with her right, firing it as one of the targeting Xs turned red. Dee brought herself to a control trajectory by sliding across the deck on both knees. The armored environment suit screeched against the alien metal on the floor with a deafening high pitch that only added to the cacophony of plasma fire, mecha pounding, and explosions all about her. As she slid through the momentum she had to lean backwards until the back of her head rubbed the floor and her knees almost snapped in order to limbo beneath the tendril of one of the now extremely pissed off aliens. Dee watched as the tendril passed within millimeters of her helmet’s visor.

She rose swiftly, using the momentum of her fall to add to the strength of her blade swing. The sword ripped through the alien mecha’s lower right leg, throwing sparks in every direction. Dee spun to face the mecha with her rifle and went full auto with the hypervelocity armor piercing rounds into it. The shields on the mecha flashed out and plasma vented from it. The mecha slumped on its severed leg and fell with a kachunk to the deck. Quickly she bounded to her feet and did a back tuck onto the top of the canopy firing the rifle into the alien pilot, splattering the glowing green alien blood all over her armor. As she let herself take pleasure in the death of the alien, another Chiata, this one in body armor and not mecha, slipped in behind her, attempting to get the drop on her. Dee caught a glimpse of the alien’s glowing eyes on the broken alien canopy glass just as the Red Force tracker alerted her. She managed to duck as one of the alien’s tendrils darted in and out at her head.