Chapter Five

  This Will Definitely Work

  Nellie saw Vicky grumbling as the nanite pre-fabs began to unfold.

  “Is everything okay?” Nellie asked.

  “We’ve been here for weeks with nothing but tents,” Vicky complained.

  “Don’t you carry prefabs on the Sparklight?” Nellie asked.

  “From now on, we do,” Vicky shook her head as the buildings rose from the cubes, sending out wide braces to hold them steady. Any attempts to push into the floor had been rebuffed so far, with even nanites failing to breach the surface. Vicky and her crew had been forced to tie their tents to the nearby set of strange columns. Lucy had been doing everything she could to breach it but had no more success than the miners had.

  It was driving her up the wall.

  Even now, Lucy was growling at the smooth surface of the floor, a mining laser in each hand as she tried a more focused attack, a spinning mass of nanites ready to pounce on even the smallest breach.

  As the mesh of buildings expanded and snapped closed over the cluster of Rigs, Nellie moved into their new bay and saw Cheape talking with her people.

  “How are we doing?” Nellie asked.

  “All set up, Ma’am,” Cheape replied smartly. “We can give you an overview whenever you are ready.”

  “Sure,” Nellie nodded.

  “Take it away, Mace,” Cheape nodded to a squat, heavyset man peeking out at the world from under the most enormous and grease-stained flat cap Nellie had ever seen.

  “First up, we ‘ave the ol’ original,” Mace said, his voice a deep rumble, “Ain’t no two ways about it; they’re just plain crap by more modern standards,” He walked over to one of the Rigs, patting one that had so many patched areas that it looked like it was built entirely from spare parts. For all Nellie knew, it might be.

  “The whole thing runs off the ‘matics,” Mace said, flipping open a panel on the legs to show the internal layout. Inside, Nellie could see a series of hydraulic pistons mounted like muscles in the oversized legs. A set of sensors ran down the inner side, where there was a space for the driver’s legs. “The pressure sensors pick up the movements of the driver, which these cables,” Mace grabbed a thickly scored set of insulated cables running up a corner of the metal supports, “carry back to the chipset mounted on the back. Lots of extra armor there, and it’s needed.”

  One of his assistants pulled over a stepladder, which Mace climbed up, opening the cab. It was basically a steel cage with hardened glass, ensuring a clear view around. Inside, there was a padded harness and something like the instrument panel from a shuttle, only smaller. “In here, you have the controls for the arms, the sensor readouts, and the power settings. We also managed to squeeze in a motion sensor type of thing. It’s not fantastic, but it helps.”

  “Weapons?” Nellie asked.

  “I’m quite proud of them, actually,” Mace grinned. “Twin mining lasers mounted on the shoulders, a plasma chainsaw on the left arm, and a hell of a slug-thrower on the right.”

  “Any thrusters or shields?” Nellie frowned. The ones she had seen were a lot more powerful than these, and the idea of sending men into danger in there was not attractive in the slightest.

  “None,” Mace said, that stuff was added in the second model.

  “Is that these?” Nellie gestured to another trio off to the left.

  “No, Ma’am,” Cheape said quickly. “These are the Model Threes.”

  The Model Three T-Rig was a significant upgrade, and the changes were everywhere. Instead of relying purely on pneumatic or hydraulic pistons, they featured servos and actuators. The ‘matics—as Mace called them—were still there, but only for added power. The armor was a much better fit as well, although the design still looked boxy. An extra-large backpack featured a set of powerful thrusters, and Nellie saw a small shield array mounted on the left shoulder.

  As Mace ran over the specs and confirmed the loadout did indeed have both thrusters and shields, Nellie was pleased to see that it wasn’t without weaponry.

  “The laser array mounted on the right shoulder is able to fire at many different angles, while the left arm has a built-in miniaturized rail gun, and the right features a plasma flame unit,” Mace reported proudly. “The shields can take a good few hits, but the real strength is in the armor. Each piece is thousand-fold-steel.”

  “A thousand folds?” Nellie asked. “Is that printed or…?”

  “The original for each piece was hand-forged,” Mace grinned. “Then scanned and reproduced via them processors.”

  “That’s a lot of work,” Nellie noted. “Was it worth it?”

  “You tell me, Ma’am,” Mace said proudly. “We have a little demonstration piece here.”

  “Mace, I said no,” Cheape said in a warning tone that the man ignored.

  “It won’ take a sec!” Mace promised as the others hurried over with a pair of near-identical-looking armor plates. Each one was mounted on a braced stand.

  “The left is our own thousand-fold steel,” Mace said excitedly, “While the right is the current standard folded metal used by the Imperium.”

  “I can see that,” Nellie admitted. The differences were small, but they were there. The Haven steel was slightly shinier, with a crisper finish and sharper edges than the current standard metal.

  “Here,” Mace hurried over with a mining laser, “The way these works is—” He stopped as Nellie took it, flipped the charge on, ran the safety checks, and checked the alignment on the focusing crystals. “Just like that, yeah.”

  Grinning, Nellie aimed at the current armor and fired. The metal heated and scorched, but that was it.

  “Takes a bit longer to see any effect,” Mace warned.

  “One moment,” Nellie decided to show off a little, having the nanites in her body swarm out and disassemble the laser, rebuilding and upgrading it while forming a mounting on her mechanical arm. Once it was complete, she funneled the power output from her nano forge to the mining laser. “Let’s give this a try.”

  The beam had thickened considerably, letting out a very loud hiss as the now inch-wide beam of deep orange/yellow seared into the armor plate. When it failed to punch through, Nellie upped the power flow. Eventually, the armor plate failed, but it did take almost a minute.

  “By the stars!” Mace gasped. “How do you do that?”

  “I’ll have some plans sent to you,” Nellie offered. “Now, let’s see how this Haven Steel does by comparison.”

  They passed the minute mark, and the Haven steel held. Then, they passed the minute ten, then fifteen. It was only as they closed in on a minute twenty that the plate gave way.

  “Aww,” Mace looked crestfallen. “I thought we’d get further than that.”

  “Don’t be,” Nellie said, letting the burnt-out laser fall to pieces and absorbing the wreckage. The crystals simply crumbled to a touch, unable to contain the power she had pushed through them. “That was nearly a thirty percent increase in strength over our former standard armor plate design.”

  “Former standard?” Cheape asked.

  “Yes.” Nellie nodded. “We will make these Haven Steel plates the new standard in the Imperium. Well done, Mister Mace.”

  “Gardener, Ma’am,” Mace bobbed his head. “Mace Gardener, at your service.”

  The final offering of the T-Rig selection Cheape had brought with her was the Model Five, and it was as close to a Boost Suit as it was possible to get. There were no ‘matics at all, exclusively using the servos and actuators of the model exosuit designs. Fitted and molded armor plates, overlapping sections of armor, and a heavier cab, as well as more weapon mounts and a full suite of sensors, shields, and extra thrusters. Power-wise, it was a little stronger than the Boost Suits but was nowhere near as modular. Changes had to be made at the level of the frame itself. They were the same model that Hellena had used in the Confed war.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Once the introductions were complete, they approached the moment of truth.

  One by one, they led the models over to the Yellow Iris. The Model Five got no further than the Boost Suits had, which Nellie had kind of expected. The Model Threes, however, went straight through with not even a sign of resistance.

  “Success!” Nellie cheered. “Let’s get a team outfitted and make a start on this area.”

  /====<<<>>>====\

  “Sorry, the place isn’t much,” Ted Wiseman apologized as he opened the door to Sec’s new office. “We don’t have too many unclaimed buildings in the city at the moment, and the ones we do are kind of specialized.”

  Looking into the dim interior, Sec wasn’t exactly feeling overwhelmed with joy. The office itself was a third-floor walkup on the east side of the city. The plain walls were unpainted, the smoothed stone showing everywhere, while the furniture could be easily described as non-existent.

  “This place is only still unoccupied because of the narrow stairs,” Ted explained. “No room for carrying parts in or out, you see.”

  “Yeah, I’m not too worried about that kind of thing,” Sec shrugged. “Is there rent or something I need to pay?”

  “Old Marls said you were a Marshall before now, and that means this place is yours as long as you want it,” Ted offered his hand. “Welcome to Stone Break, Mister Sec.”

  Once the man left, Sec walked around his new office. It was tiny compared to the places he usually worked, with just three rooms: a small bathroom with a shower in the back, a twelve-foot-square room, and finally, a long, narrow entrance.

  Sec stood, looking out the window, seeing the bustle below as the silence seemed to swell around him. Hours passed as he stood there, the sun starting to set over the town, and Sec still had no idea what to do.

  He’d always had orders before. True, he mostly ignored them, but they were still there. It was hard to decide what he wanted to do without avoiding something he should be doing.

  Tired of staring out the window, Sec closed the door to his office and clomped down the stairs, walking the early evening streets until he saw a large, glowing board at the intersection of two roads. People were clustered around it, and on the general principle that anything people were looking at must be interesting, Sec wandered over.

  Peering over the shoulders of those in front of him, Sec saw a scrolling list of jobs and was about to turn away when he noticed one in particular.

  Missing HyperDrive Shipment:

  Three crates of dried and pressed HyperDrive went missing from the cargo porters on their way to storage shed 12B.

  A reward is offered for any information leading to their recovery or the discovery of any parties involved.

  Reward:

  Information: 15 Points.

  Recovery 50 Points per crate.

  Someone had nicked some crates of his Nan’s favorite drink. That had to be offside, surely?

  Sec watched as people tapped one job or another and ‘claimed’ it. They used some kind of wrist-mounted doodad to identify themselves. Sec didn’t have one of them but decided to try it anyway.

  Once the people in front of them had moved on, Sec tapped the screen. It beeped and asked for ID, a small box appearing next to the mission. Sec tapped the box.

  New User Recognized…

  Identity Confirmed….

  A Wrist-Comp is required for using Job Boards within Stone Break…Do you require one?

  “Sure,” Sec shrugged.

  Dispensing… Please keep on your person at all times.

  There was a ‘thunk’ from a small box under the board, and Sec saw a small black band with a small screen attached. Picking it up and slipping it onto his wrist Sec watched it adjust to fit him automatically.

  Wrist-Comp detected…

  Assigning job…

  The little screen flashed, and Sec saw the job listing change, marking it as Claimed.

  Sec’s systems detected the little computer as he strolled away. It connected and mirrored the information into his system. To his surprise, it was a decent little bit of kit.

  It featured a map of the city and surrounding areas, with a little marker for his location. A quick look showed the things communicated with the Job Boards around the capital, using the distances and angles to provide a decent track of the user’s position.

  Additionally, each one had a unique identifier that was hard-coded. That was what it used to identify each user, a simple system made safe by the thing being paired with the user’s biological signature. A simple, snazzy little setup.

  Of course, Sec could have spoofed it in a minute, but that was unlikely to end well. Someone would find out eventually, and Sec would end up waiting even longer before he could be a Marshall again.

  The mission was marked on the map as well, with each location of interest tagged in a separate color, complete with a route the porters had used. It even marked where the crates were discovered to be missing.

  Sec felt a little spark of excitement as he stared at the mission on the top of his Overlay. He had a job to do.

  Sec’s steps sped up a little, and he started to whistle tunelessly as he made his way to the first point on his map, the storage bays for industrial cargo on the outer edge of Port Cheapeside.

  A half hour’s walk later, Sec stood on the corner opposite the loading bays, watching the cargo porters load up. There were guards every few feet, and the porters looked like they cared about what they were doing.

  Nothing was being chucked about; each bit of cargo passed hand to hand before being loaded onto the porter's Rigs, and off they went. So, Sec stood and watched until a dozen of them had come and go, waiting for someone to head down the route he had marked out on his map.

  When someone finally headed that way, Sec kept pace a good fifty paces behind.

  For ten minutes they marched through the streets, keeping to the left side of the road and out of the way of passing traffic.

  They only stopped once. One of the porters hopped out of their rig, hurrying inside a shop, and came back out with a small package.

  Sec noted the time and shop and then continued to trail the pair.

  They arrived a few minutes later, dropping off their cargo before they split up.

  The man who had collected the package went left, the speed of the rig’s steps speeding up.

  Sec couldn’t exactly jog along the street without drawing attention, so he found a backstreet that ran parallel to the rig’s path and sprinted down it, sticking his head out every other street to keep an eye on his target.

  It was headed back to the port but via some other destination.

  When it finally slowed, Sec felt a tingle. He was onto something here.

  The man once more hopped out of his Rig, and taking the opportunity to dash up behind the man, Sec followed him into the store.

  Nanite hearing was a cut above the rest, but the sensors on the Cent models were a pretty close second. With no need to be close to the porter, Sec let the man walk ahead while pretending to browse through the shop.

  “Did you bring it?” The woman behind the counter whispered.

  “Of course,” the porter replied. “Sid’s a good sort; he won’t rat us out.”

  “Well, show me already!” The woman craned over the counter, almost knocking over a stand of some small item or other.

  Sec turned, amplifying the detail in the reflective surface of a polished metal urn of some kind. It put his back to the counter so that when the porter, Sid, checked the shop, he saw no one watching them.

  Surreptitiously, he brought out the small parcel and unwrapped it, holding it out gingerly to the woman, who gasped.

  Capturing the reflection, Sec ran it through a subroutine, countering the curve of the urn’s reflection and interpolating pixels to increase resolution.

  “Ah, fuck me!” Sec yelled, startling everyone in the store.

  “Sir, is there a problem?” The woman called.

  “Just a waste of fucking time,” Sec grumbled, “No. No. Sorry!”

  He stepped out of the store, still grumbling. The small picture in the corner of his vision showed a small silver frame. Inside was a picture of Sid and the woman, smiling as they lay naked in bed.

  “Almost a bloody hour of my life wasted chasing a bit of porn!” Sec grumbled as he headed back to the port.

  Head down and in a foul mood, Sec slouched through the streets, heading back along the route to the loading bays. Rather than keep dodging people on the sidewalk, Sec turned down a backstreet again. It was barely wider than six feet and seemed to exist purely so the shops had somewhere to put the trash.

  A noise ahead drew his attention. Looking up, he saw a pair of teenagers peering around the back corner of a small shop.

  “Wait for them to stop for the show, then we get a couple of bits off the back, yeah?” A young girl whispered to the boy behind her.

  Sec stepped a bit further into the shadows cast by the row of shops and crouched, listening intently.

  “You sure they’ll stop?” The boy asked.

  “They always stop for Sara,” the girl giggled. “Here we go…”

  Slipping back, Sec darted out of the alley and back into the main street.

  A pair of porters were coming up the street, their drivers looking a lot younger than the last ones he had followed. Just as they were drawing level with the alley the teens were hiding in, a young woman stepped out of the shop, carrying a large drink which she almost immediately spilled all down her overly tight top with a very theatrical shriek of surprise.

  The two porters, along with several others, stopped and turned to look.

  “My top!” The woman—Sara assumedly—cried. “It’s going all see-through.”

  Sec resisted the urge to groan. It was pathetically obvious. She might as well have had the word ‘Distraction’ in flashing lights above her head.

  While everyone looked at the woman’s chest, the teens darted out and grabbed a small barrel off the back of one of the porter’s rigs and turned to run.

  “Stop!” Sec yelled, leaping forward.

  Everything seemed to happen at once, with the teens dropping the barrel and running for it. The barrel smashed open, spilling some kind of oil all over the sidewalk, while the porters started to yell. As for Sara, she darted to the opposite side of the street.

  She was fast, too.

  Just not Cent fast.

  “Got ya!” Sec yelled triumphantly as he grabbed the woman by the shoulder.

  Sara turned, eyes narrowing as she slapped him hard across the face.

  Yelping, she stumbled back in mute horror, massaging her bruised hand as Sec pulled his face back into position.

  “Do that again,” Sec chuckled. “It tickled.”

  “What are you?” Sara gaped at him.

  Ignoring the comment, Sec spun her around, holding her hands behind her back as he marched her back across the street to wait for the local guards. “You’re nicked, mate.”