Mechanical (4 page)

The hall was tall enough to enable the Serpent to stand to its full ten-feet height. The Serpent's limbs were lean and powerful, with huge clawed hands and feet. Its midsection was triangular, like a well-toned human swimmer, strong but slim. The Serpent gave the impression of a gaunt humanoid creature with a well-muscled midsection and long arms and legs that were too skeletal.

The Serpent's head was craned up, looking at the ceiling, and Tom was a little grateful for that. He did not wish to meet the weapon's eyeless stare again, just right now.

Tom blinked. It took him a while to realize that the Serpent's midsection, its upper torso, was open. A host of tube endings and wires were held suspended on a much finer grid, waiting for the pilot.

"I go in there?” asked Tom dazedly.

"Yes, Lieutenant, in a fetal position," the lab-coated man said distractedly. He was standing near a desk, talking on a phone with short, terse sentences. "Yeah, he's here. We're beginning to put him in. Tell him he has five minutes before we start anesthetizing procedures. Yeah!" The man put down the phone, put his round glasses on and turned to his techies. "Let's begin."

Tom felt really uncomfortable about this. Everything was really happening too fast. He held onto the sides of the bed tightly. The techies swarmed over him and started working. The bed was raised to the level of the Serpent and the techies stood on the scaffolding that surrounded the weapon. Tom was gently but firmly inserted into the Serpent. He assumed a fetal position and the tubes and wires from his suit were connected to the Serpent.

Tom squirmed. It wasn't exactly comfortable inside the Serpent, and he started feeling a little claustrophobic, even though the hatch hadn't been closed yet. Tom felt his limbs strain against the immovable surface of the Serpent's pilot cockpit. Metal restraints were now being fastened over his arms, legs and torso, holding him tightly in place.

"We can't have you moving freely here. You might hurt yourself during maneuvers," the lead tech type said. Tom was feeling really queasy now, though the suit gases were keeping his body cool and comfortable.

"Lieutenant?" It was the general who now appeared suddenly at his side, standing on the scaffolding so he could look into Tom's eyes. "How are you doing?"

Tom took a moment to reply. He saw the worry lines on the old man's tough face hadn't disappeared. Quite the contrary, they seemed more pronounced now.

"I'm doing okay, Sir," Tom said with little conviction. 

"I know this part is not pleasant, but as soon as they turn the Serpent on, you'll feel completely different, son. Lieutenant, I wanted to come here to tell you how proud I am in you people. It's not simple to do what you're about to do. You're doing a great service to your country," the general said.

"I'm just following orders, Sir," Tom said with a little more confidence than he felt.

"Nonsense! This is above and beyond the call of duty. I know about your sister, son. If the New York City operation goes well, I'll make sure Atlanta is next."

Tom said nothing.

"Lieutenant, let me shake your hand—"

"Sir, we've already strapped him in—"

"So, free his hand!" The general fumed and the tech people removed the metal straps around Tom's right hand. He could not lower his head to see, but he felt strong, gnarly hands tightly grab his own.

"Sir, I'm just following orders," Tom said again when he felt his hand being shaken vigorously.

"Nonsense, Lieutenant. The human race is counting on you, not to mention the army and me. You're a fine example for us all!" the general said. He shook Tom’s hand for the last time and moved away.

Tom felt the tech types reattach the metal strap, and others held his head tightly in place. The Serpent's hatch was partly closed, and Tom felt the lead tech person now standing next to him. "Relax, Lieutenant. When you'll wake up, you'll be the pilot of the most advanced weapon the United States possesses."

But Tom couldn't relax; there were too many unanswered questions. Why was all this security necessary so far from the front lines? Why were the security forces armed with so many anti-tank missiles? Why won't they reveal the names of the general, the lead tech person and the military units in charge? Why did they just pick three soldiers who didn't even know each other, let alone ever work together, to pilot these personal battle tanks? Why did they have just three days to learn to pilot these Serpents? Why did the general bring up his family and his captive sister? Why…

A plastic breathing mask was now pressed onto Tom's face. Tom closed his eyes, and the strange world outside went away. There was precious little time for them, Tom suddenly remembered. The enemy must be stopped in six days. Tom rapidly inhaled from the strange-smelling mask and total darkness yawned before him.

Day Two, Fort Belvoir, Virginia

Where was he?

There was nothing but darkness. Tom tried opening his eyes but he couldn't. He tried again, fighting as hard as he could but he failed. There, … there were no eyes! He couldn't feel his eyes! He tried feeling his face with his hands but he couldn't move his hands. He couldn't feel them either!

            Tom tried taking a deep breath, but he couldn’t. He couldn't breathe!

           
Help. Help me! Help!

            There was no voice. There was no mouth. He couldn't shout. There was nothing! There was—

            "Down the rabbit hole."

            A voice arose. A speaking voice in the darkness! Tom would have sobbed with relief, if only he could.

            "There, all set. Start the boot procedure."

            "'Batteries' is in the green. Power core is online. Internal network is online. Secondary and tertiary networks are operational. Internal sensors status is green. Monitoring system reboot completed. 'Engines and circulation' is online. Optical and radio sensors checking sequence initiated. Quantum processing initiated. Self-diagnosis routines running. Gyros beginning rev-up sequence. Power consumption is nominal. Interim and management processors communicate normally."

            It went on and on, an endless checkup list that meant nothing to Tom, but its very existence was somehow comforting. It was a human voice, even though it droned endlessly. It was still human, something to drive away the darkness. Tom still could not breathe but some of the panic went away. The human voice running down its inscrutable checklist kept reporting everything was okay. No reason to worry.

            What was that thing with the rabbit?

            "Lieutenant Riley, can you hear me?"

            It was the voice of the unnamed man with the ponytail.
Yes, yes, I can hear you. Can you hear me? Does somebody hear me? If I could only move a hand, or—

            "Very well! Lieutenant Riley. You might have noticed you can't speak or move. Yet. That's because we're booting up the Serpent's systems step by step."

           
So why did you ask me if I could hear you, Bastard?

            "So far you have only hearing. We're going to add more systems, step by step. Are you ready?"

            Tom said nothing. He couldn't say anything anyway, but he wouldn't have said anything even if he could. That bastard round glasses man. Probably being nice was not a job requirement in this project.

            "We're going to return eyesight now, Lieutenant Riley. Are you ready?"

            And suddenly the world appeared in front of Tom. Tom would have stopped breathing if he could, but, anyway, he still wasn't able to feel his mouth or throat, or breathe. But it was still awesomely beautiful just to see the bright white radiance, the neon lights shedding warmth, light and life around them, the tech types moving around, standing around or sitting in front of computers, all doing inscrutable things on keyboards, moving mouses or furiously flicking fingers on touchpads. The light was really beautiful, colorful, radiant, life giving, warm—

            "Can you see me, Lieutenant Riley?"

            Just in front of him stood the white-lab-coat person but Tom just watched the other people, seeing their faces moving, a few talking between themselves and exchanging technical information, one woman concentrating on the inscrutable things appearing on her LCD screen, another man punching away at his keyboard, a third man comparing things on his monitor with a large printout, scanning through it to find something.

            "We'll now enable motor control. Try moving your right hand, Lieutenant Riley," said the lab-coat man and looked to his left, towards the Serpent's right hand.

            Tom could not move his head, and he could not feel his eyes nor close them or blink, but he could see the room he was in perfectly. He could see every detail, from the clipped fingernails of a tech person sitting in front of a computer, to the dust motes gathering in the corner of the hall, to the body of a bug lying on top one of the ceiling lights, embedded into a crevice between the neon bulb and the starter.

            "Please move your right hand, Lieutenant Riley," said the lab-coat person impatiently, glancing at his watch.

            Tom was still watching the room. He could not feel that he had eyes. He did not blink, nor did he have any trouble looking straight into the neon lights without them leaving aftereffects in his field of view. There was a visual acuity greater than anything he had ever experienced in his life. He could even see small imperfections in the paint on the wall or in the plaster between the floor and the walls.

            But, unbidden, a question arose.
Why had he woken up in a different room?
He could distinctly remember other instruments lining the wall, devices that showed his vital signs. The walls were lined with other instrumentation now, with readings he couldn't understand.

            "Lieutenant Riley, we are working under a time constraint here!" The lab-coat person bent over and sharply tapped Riley with his knuckles, producing a flat knocking noise on what Tom assumed was the Serpent's faceplate.

            “I hate question-loving idiots,” Lieutenant Ramirez had said.
Maybe he had a point,
Tom sighed in his mind. He shifted the focus of his sight to the right, and now he could see his hand. The Serpent's hand, Tom reminded himself. The arm was black, lean and slightly curved. The hand itself was wide with very long fingers that terminated in sharp points, making Tom think of the talons of some very powerful bird of prey.

           
Move
, thought Tom, quite unsure what to do. To his surprise, the thin tapering fingers moved.

            "It's about time, Lieutenant Riley. Now, make a fist. Now, move every finger separately. Now, spread your hand as wide as it can go. Now, make another fist. Rotate your wrist."

            Tom would have smiled had he been able to. The movements of the fingers and hand were incredible. They moved exactly the way he wanted, with delicate and accurate movements. There was a slight humming vibration from the hand, probably from electric motors inside the joints, but nothing was visible except the matt black surface skin of the fingers and the hand.

            Though delicate and precise, Tom felt something in the humming of the hand movements. There was power here, an unparalleled strength.

            "Lieutenant Riley, we are now going to enable your left hand. I'll take you through the movements test."

            Tom followed the lab-coat person's orders closely and in a short while, he gained control of both of his hands, his arms, his legs and his head. He was still attached to the scaffolding, and even though most of his limbs had been released from the scaffolding, it still held him tightly. In addition, he could see a thick cable connected to something on the back of his left arm. The Serpent's left arm, he corrected himself.

            "Very well. We'll now enable your speaker. Try to say something, Lieutenant Riley. Do not ask a question."

            Tom tried but nothing happened. He tried blowing air, making a sound, and forming and shaping lips that weren't there.

            "Lieutenant Riley, please do not take too much time. We are taking too much time here as it is."

            Tom tried to relax. He had to talk through the Serpent, not with his mouth and lungs that were hibernating inside. He tried to concentrate.

            "Sir," Tom said hesitatingly. His voice was obviously artificial but not unpleasant. Just low and synthesized. "Yes, Sir," he said again, more confidently. "Sir," he said for the third time, this time with full confidence. The machine voice filled the hall and bounced off the walls to reverberate for a few seconds before fading out.

            "Very well, Lieutenant Riley. Please keep your voice volume under tighter control. Now, we're going to try testing your equilibrium. Feel up to it?"

            Tom started forming a response but the lab-coat person spoke first. "Great. We will remove the scaffolding, but be careful. We have monitoring equipment attached to your left arm."

            Tom craned the Serpent's head to see, but his left arm was still held by the scaffolding, and all he could see was the data cable snaking away.

            "Lieutenant Riley,” the lab-coat person now said, raising his voice a little.

            The scaffolding was removed, and Tom took one step ahead. He didn't think of stepping forward, he just controlled his legs, making his left move, followed by the right.
It's just like moving with my own body,
Tom thought.

            The Serpent moved, making Tom's perspective change. A clicking noise coming from below attracted Tom's attention. The long, curved claws on the Serpent's feet clicked again as they unfolded on the concrete floor, ensuring that the Serpent stood perfectly balanced.

            Tom turned the Serpent’s head so that he could look at his left arm still attached to the scaffolding. Now, two techies removed the metal restraints around his arm and Tom gently freed it.

            "Be careful with that cable, Lieutenant Riley. We still need it," the lab-coat person said. Tom watched as a tech person lifted a laptop that was connected to the cable and then turned to the back of the Serpent's left arm. There was a small display there, bright schematics dancing  on it. A black armor panel was folded on Tom's arm away from the display. A host of connecting sockets rested there, one connected to the data cable that was already attached to the laptop.

            "This is your arm computer along with various data and power ports. You need not concern yourself with the diagnostic or administration menus, Lieutenant Riley," the lab-coat person said, noting the direction of the Serpent's head.

            "Arm computer, Sir? Touchscreen activated?" Tom asked and moved his right hand over the back of his left arm, his long black fingers hovering above the light-filled display of the computer. Tom noticed that the fingers of the Serpent's hands were long, really long.

            He touched the back of his arm and the display changed. Seven icons appeared: sensors, power, diagnostics, navigation, communications, interface and administration.

            "I thought my thoughts would control the computers. Why don't they? And why don't I have radio data links to exchange data with my team members and auxiliary forces?" Tom said.

            "Enough with the questions, Lieutenant Riley! The computers in the Serpent are not to be played with. You'll receive instruction about the functions you are to operate in the battlefield, including the head-up display. Now, we must move onwards. We already wasted too much time here."

            The man made sure that Tom had abandoned any intention of tinkering with the computers and turned to a control desk. He picked up a phone and rapidly punched in a number.

            "Yes, it's me. Integration is complete. Yes, he's ready. All indicators are positive."

            Tom moved slowly and carefully through the hall, taking care to stay well away from the working tech people. He towered above them, like an adult standing high above children, or a god seeing his disciples groveling on the ground far beneath him. Actually, his height in the Serpent was more or less twice the height of an adult, but the feeling of incredible power remained.

            "No, Sir, no incidents. There were no problems."

            Actually, Tom thought he felt different than he did outside the Serpent. Something was different. Actually, a lot of things were different, but something in particular drew his attention. Only now he realized how many things a man feels with his skin: the wind, starting from small wafts that turned to the steady drafts from the air-conditioning; clothing that moves, slides and crawls over a man's skin; soft touches on one’s fingertips; the weight on one’s feet and legs supporting his body. Room temperature, too, changed and would be sensed.

            "Yes, we'll wait."

            Now, Tom felt none of these things, although he had a general feeling of the temperature in the room. He felt his black limbs moving, but there was no feeling of his skin, no chafing or itching or anything else. He did have tactile feeling in his fingertips, which he tested by stopping by one of the devices in the room and running a finger on its metal surface. He felt the device's texture, its metal casing under his long black finger, the cool temperature of the material.

            Tom, almost against his will, steadily increased the fingertip's pressure on the device. His finger started leaving a thin furrow behind it, a furrow that deepened into a crack as his finger cut into the metal skin with almost no resistance.

            He felt, though, a small resistance as the metal skin of instrument held for a moment against his finger before succumbing.

            "Lieutenant Riley!"

            Tom whirled around. The general was standing in the hall's entrance, staring at him sternly. Tom saluted smartly and rose to attention, though the general now seemed more like a child confronting a dark giant.