Marine Summer: Year 2041 (13 page)

The overhead robot slid the backpack in place. With a hard push, it locked in. The fear of tiny spiders crawling was no longer a fear but a reality. I could feel the nano-bots entering the portholes of the neoprene suit.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“What, rookie?” Brains asked.

“You said they would ride in the pack, but they’re crawling underneath the protective layer. There touching my goddamn skin!”

“Oh…yeah. We don’t tell anyone that part. You’re about to go live.”

“Live?”

“Yeah…live in 3—2—1, engage!”

I screamed in pain as the tiny insects entered my body like tiny needles. Electric current caused my muscles to convulse as they made contact with the probes. The pack on my back started cycling as the batteries fired up all the electronics. Gears and motors started turning, locking my limbs into place as the robots retreated, allowing the Suit to stand on its own with the assistance of only two braces still attached to my legs. Hydraulic cylinders pressurized, painfully straining and stretching my body till they settled in place, accommodating the Suit to my natural height.

“Don’t scream, you sound like a girl,” Brains said, mocking me. “Ouch, oh no, help me…you big wuss!”

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“No one ever is,” he laughed.

I felt one of the bots enter my right ear. I tried rattling it out, violently shaking my head back and forth.

“Get it out, get it out, it’s in my ear!” I begged.

“It has to be there, dipshit. It becomes part of your comms, genius.”

My struggle to rid the little intruder ceased when the overhead robot neared. In its clutches was the helmet, the final piece.

“This will do her. Say hello to Rita,” he said as the robot lowered the helmet onto my head. I could feel the bots fasten it into place.

“Give the command to lower your face shield, your visor.”

“What’s the command?” I asked.

“You’re supposed to have memorized those already. I can’t give your Suit commands. Only Motown and you can order your Suit what to do.”

I’d forgotten them. I tried four or five commands before I got it right.

“Rita, engage protective face shield.”

“Face shield engaged,” her tender voice complied.

As the shield lowered, the heads up display, the HUD, engaged. An icon showing that the Suit’s power level was at ninety percent floated in front of my eyes. I saw green lines encircling and targeting Brains, with green letters indicating he was a ‘Friendly’. To the right there were indicators for temps and fluid levels, to the left a small map with the location marked. At the bottom ammo levels, all caches read ‘empty’ in bright red letters.

Brains knocked on the face shield to get my attention, pointing to his ear as he mouthed some words.

“Rita, comms on.”

“Comms are now on,” she replied.

“Go ahead, Brains.”

“Ready to take her for a spin?”

“Hell yeah I am!”

“I’ll unlock the braces and you’ll be free. Proceed to the double doors straight ahead and we’ll take a few laps around the track.”

“Rita, engage free roam.”

“Free roam engaged.”

The first step off the platform was shaky. Instead of walking, I stomped.

“Try and walk normally. You don’t need to over-correct or conform. She’ll adapt to your walking style and before you know it, you won’t even realize you’re wearing it.”

The next two steps felt like water slushing around in a soggy boot.

“Rita, adjust boot air pressure two pounds higher,” I requested.

“Adjusting.”

It was like walking on air.

“Follow me, big man, right through here,” Brains said as he opened the doors.

Four others were test driving their suits around the enclosed track as well, Rita’s targeting system identifying friendlies and instructors by name. The other suits all had call signs, nicknames. I wondered why I didn’t.

“Rita?”

“Yes Drew Butler.”

“What’s my call sign?”

“Your call sign is Drew Butler.”

“Hmmmm.”

“What’s Hmmmm? I do not understand Drew Butler.”

“Disregard Rita.”

“As you wish Drew Butler.”

I took a few laps around the track, watching as some of the others toppled over. I was able to remain on my feet at least. Brains had me do a few sprints, a couple of jumps, and an attempt at an abrupt stop. It came naturally; it all felt good.

“Well, let’s move on. We need to do some programming and then get your weapons assigned,” Brains said.

“Weapons? I like the sound of that.”

He escorted me back through the team lab and into the armory in the back. Weapons hanging on hooks decorated the side walls. They were split into six sections, each with a nametag indicating which weapons belonged to whom. Down the center aisle sat six large black containers, each tagged for ownership. Mine showed a blank nametag.

“Why isn’t my name on any of these?” I asked Brains, was typing information into a mainframe next to the unclaimed stall.

“Because we haven’t given you one yet, or you haven’t earned it,” he said nonchalantly, continuing to type away.

“How do I earn it?”

“We all play a part in the show,” he bowed like an actor at the end of a play, “and you, my friend, are still behind the curtain.”

He motioned for me to stand in front of the unclaimed box.

“These units can be air-dropped anywhere. Say we’re out in the field, running low on ammo. They drop these off, we back up, and presto, ammo refilled. Go ahead, put your back against the unit. Not only does it fill up your ammo, it fills your fluid levels and rotates your tires.”

“Tires?”

“It’s a joke, geez…don’t you young guys know anything? Just back up to it.”

“Refill in progress,” Rita said as the ammo cache latched onto my backpack.

The Suit was virtually silent, but I noticed that the cache was quite loud.

“Hey Brains, won’t this noise give away our position?”

“Only if we get caught,” he smiled.

It would only take a few minutes to refill. I noticed on my hud display that ammo levels were rising. Indicators that had been blank now appeared full, showing that they were ready for use.

“Okay, go select a rifle on the wall. You must pick one out of your stall. If you try any other it won’t load since the digital signature won’t match up.”

I had three choices. I chose the camouflage one. I swore I heard it calling to me.

“Good choice. That’s an M4V-Carbine. It shoots a 138mm cartridge. Actually, they all shoot it, but that weapon is the assault version. Next, grab that pistol and place it next to your left hip. It’s a standard pistol designed only for the suits. We call it an MV-Defender. It shoots a 45 ACP. Not much special about it other than it’s also digitally un-transferrable. These will be your main weapons.”

“That’s it?” I asked. It didn’t seem like a lot of defense to me.

“Tell Rita to load them,” he responded.

“Okay,” I replied, stepping to the center of the aisle. “Rita, arm weapons.”

A hatch opened on my right arm, and a black fiber chute inserted itself into the side of the rifle.

“You’re carrying 400 rounds, playboy, all fed intravenously. We don’t change clips, it takes too much time. Your pistol will do the same. You’ve got a hundred rounds just in case.”

“This is kinda cool,” I said. I felt like a kid opening presents on Christmas.

“That’s not cool, this is cool,” he said, pointing to the black rod at the foot of my stall. It was about three inches in diameter and two feet long. “Stow your rifle across your chest. Latches will hold it steady against you. Just tell Rita to do it.”

“Rita, stow rifle.”

“Rifle stowed. You are hands free.”

“Now what?” I asked.

“Pick it up and press the button, but let me get out of the way first,” he said, quickly scurrying backwards.

Turning it over, I found the button, but before I could press it Brains said, “Hold it out away from you.”

With a press of the button, the rod telescoped outward. Two large blades formed at the end with a mean looking spike protruding out of the top.

“Whoa.”

“You came in with an ax, you go out with an ax. If you spend every one of those rounds, unleash that meat cleaver on those alien bastards. It’ll do some freaking damage.”

I swung it around. Its movement was amazing. It felt light, swift, and deadly.

“How much does this thing weigh? It’s as light as a feather,” I said.

“Light, my ass,” he laughed. “That’s 600 pounds of fury. Remember you’re wearing a Suit, dude. Every single weapon requires the Suit to lift it.”

“How is this possible?”

“You know that little power pack on your back?”

“Yeah.”

“That little discovery, the power pack, the aliens unknowingly gave us, well we actually stole from one of their downed aircraft, can power New York City…for a lifetime.”

“Is it safe? I mean, can it kill me?”

“We’ve had the power packs shot, blown up, and they just keep on ticking. Now if you start barking like a dog, I’d say it screwed with your noodle,” he said. This time he wasn’t smiling.

“You’re kidding me?”

“Yeah, dummy, it’s a joke. Relax. God, I swear…you newbies are so easy.”

I’ve never been drunk in my life, until now. Every time I set an empty beer can down, Boom handed me a fresh one. Motown was singing along and playing these black disk type things on some ancient contraption they call a record player. I’d never heard music like this. I really liked it, or maybe that was just the beer talking.

“Get you some, rook,” Boom said of my dancing.

“Guys, we’ve got field exercises tomorrow. You shouldn’t be torturing him like this,” Bob said.

“It’s his last three days, let him live a little,” Hunter chimed in, tossing me another beer.

“Killing useful brain cells, it’s a shame. Toss me one, Hunter,” Brains joined in.

“I know I tortured him, but this…the poor kid,” Bob shook her head laughing as I attempted what I thought was dancing.

“Get it boy, get it,” Motown encouraged me as I started dancing for Bob, shaking my rear end on her knee.

“Now we’re talking. Come to momma,” she said as she playfully swatted my rear.

Oblivious to what was going on, I was enjoying the moment so much that I barely noticed when a young buck private ran through the door and yelled, “Attention—on—deck!”

The speakers screeched as Motown stopped the music.

“Hey!” I slurred, turning around. “Put it back on.”

Bob pushed me off her lap. I staggered forward into Boom, who tried to catch me as I fell.

“Oh shit…hey why’d you do that?” I asked her.

Tipping her head toward the door was the only answer she gave. I crooked my head to see what all the commotion was about. It was the CO. He was standing in the doorway glaring me down.

“Uh-oh,” I chuckled. “I’m…a…busted.”

I don’t think I’d ever seen a sterner look on anyone’s face. For some reason, he reminded me of Sergeant Buckley.

“Really?” he asked. “This man’s inebriated!”

“Sir, I can explain,” Motown said.

“Stow it! Get this man in his rack immediately!” he ordered.

“I’ve got it, sir,” Bob said, leading me away by the hand.

“Ni-ni, everyone. It’s beddy-bed time,” I slurred.

“What a damn disgrace. Every one of you should be ashamed,” he scolded the others as Bob pushed me through the door to the sleeping quarters.

I was unsteady on my feet, unable to find my rack, and I lost Bob somewhere along the way. Flopping down in a rack, not my own, I found her. She was standing in front of the door, which was cracked a few inches open so that she could listen in on the conversation.

Still feeling playful, I wanted to wrestle. I snuck up behind her and attempted to tickle her sides, only to get my knuckles crushed as she grabbed both hands and squeezed.

“Ouch,” I blurted out. “Don’t be so rough.”

“Shhhhh,” she said, loosening her grip but still holding onto my hands, pulling my arms further around her waist.

This is nicer than holding hands with Geraldine Schuster
, I thought. The fragrance of her hair enthralled me. She allowed me to hold her while she listened in.

“Men, field exercises are cancelled. We’ve have reports that Oklahoma is lost and we have heavy fighting on the southern border,” the CO said.

“Any activity in our area, sir?” Motown asked.

“There are reports of combatants in our area, south of here. They broke across the line, possibly recon activity. We don’t have all the info at this time.”

“Sir, we haven’t field tested our newest member yet. If he doesn’t get the required field training in, we’ll be a man short,” Hunter said.

“We are fully aware of that, second lieutenant. We have a couple of other teams in the same predicament. We are tossing around the idea of splitting up one team and filling those voids on the other. That’s why I’m here,” he said, taking a seat.

“Whose team?” Motown asked, now seeming annoyed.

“Possibly this one,” the CO said.

I leaned in further to get another whiff of her hair. “You smell wonderful,” I whispered.

“Quiet!” she stoutly whispered back, pulling me in tighter to hold me still.

Motown continued to argue, “Sir, we’re your most senior team. Always combat ready. Alpha team has more time in the Suit than three quarters of the other teams combined.”

“I know Captain, but you’re an aging team. We could use that experience in preparing the others to do what you’ve done.”

“No disrespect, sir,” Hunter butted in, “but that’s absurd.”

“Sir,” Motown said, “Give me the three days to finish training our new guy in the northeast quadrant. The kid’s got potential. We’ve never had a candidate like this, and he could be the one.”

“The one, huh?” the CO asked.

The one…okay, call me whatever you want. I was nuzzling my nose against the back of her head, I don’t know if it was her scent or the beer, but it was powerful.

“He’s never seen any combat, captain, so how can you tell?” the CO quizzed him.

“I can show you,” Brains spoke up.

“Show me what?”

“Here’s his readings as of today,” Brains handed him the laptop. “Each color on the performance chart represents one of us when we started training in the Suit. He’s the black line.”

“He really is off the chart,” the CO said.

“He’s 80 percent higher at melding with his Suit than anyone else here in the facility, or even in the entire history of the suit.”

“That’s amazing. Why hasn’t this information been shared until now, captain?

“Well sir, he hasn’t been field tested yet. He lacks a little self-confidence. We’d like to see what he can do in a tough situation. It’s very much possible that he’s the one we’ve been waiting for.”

I didn’t like hearing that, that I lacked self-confidence
. I’ll show them
, I thought. I leaned down and kissed Garcia on the neck. At first she didn’t respond, so I kissed her again. This time, with a quick jab of her metal elbow, I was on my knees praying for air.

“I’ll give you your three days. If he makes it, I’ll cancel your orders and send you to San Diego. The alien bastards want it back. There’s some heavy fighting there. If he’s that damn good, your team should have no problem in keeping it.”

“It’s a deal, sir,” Motown said, sticking his hand out to the CO.

Hesitantly shaking it, he agreed, “Deal!”

Garcia picked me up off the deck. “Time for bed lover-boy,” she smirked.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m so, so sorry,” I pleaded for forgiveness.

She took my hand and guided me to my rack. I was just thankful it wasn’t her strong arm.

“Try and stand up,” she said, unbuttoning my shirt.

“Please forgive me. Don’t be mad at me,” I drunkenly begged.

Her hands unfastened my belt, unzipping my fly.

“Sit,” she ordered.

Swaying as I tried to turn, I fell backwards, bashing my head again on the upper rack. She laughed loudly at my expense.

“Lift your leg.” She pulled my pants leg off. “And now the other.”

As I sat there drunk and defenseless, she pushed me back into the rack, pulling the blanket up to my chest.

“You’re tucking me in,” I kidded. “Thank you, you’re so nice. You’re too sweet to me.”

“Shut it, Butler, before I drag you out of this bunk and wear you out!”

“I’m sorry, don’t yell at me. I promise I’ll behave.”

“Listen, you just don’t kiss a girl until she wants you to. That was very rude,” she scolded me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“Quit saying you’re sorry. Shut your drunk ass up for a second.”

“Okay.”

“You need to wait for a sign. She’ll let you know when she wants to kiss you. But until then, don’t think you can take liberties. Do you understand me?”

“What signs am I looking for?” I asked, pouting. I had no idea. I hadn’t really been with a woman.

“This sign,” she said, leaning over and kissing me delicately. Her lips were soft and slightly wet. Warm sensations engulfed my body from my lips down to my toes.

I wished at that moment I had a mirror. My expression after the kiss told the truth about me. I didn’t even realize that it was over and that she was still watching me.

“First kiss?” she kindly asked.

“Is it that obvious?” I asked back, opening my eyes.

“Yeah, it is. Get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” She patted my chest.

Watching as she headed for the door, I called to her, “Rita?”

“Yes, Butler,” smiling as she turned.

“Thanks…for the kiss…and for everything else.”

“I told you when I met you that I’d make you my bitch,” she laughed. “Good night, Butler.”

“Good night.”