- Home
- Michael Chatfield
Free Fleet Box Set 1 Page 3
Free Fleet Box Set 1 Read online
Page 3
I seized up for a second as he wrapped his hands around my neck in a hug. He was so small that his head was level with mine as I sat.
He wiped his eyes, his body shuddering as he looked at me. “That huuuurt,” he said into my neck, sniffling.
Sadness tore at me as I hugged him back, patting his back, careful to miss his ports, nakedness and awkwardness forgotten.
“My name’s Salchar. What’s yours?” I asked gently.
“I’m George Everez.” His body jerked from the aftereffects of constant, ferocious crying.
“Well, George, you’ve got cool new ports, don’t you?”
He nodded numbly. “But I want my mommy!” he said, hyperventilating as if he were building up for another crying episode.
He wrapped his arms around me as he cried silently. After a few minutes, he peeled away, taking hiccupping breaths as he’d run out of steam.
“I know, George, but you got through that just now—you can get through anything,” I said with a kind smile.
He looked up to me, searching for more.
“That makes you like us adults.” A look filled his eyes, one of a child who didn’t understand adulthood but wanted to be one all too much. I have a feeling you’ll be an adult sooner than you think, I thought unhappily. “I need you to do something special for me,” I continued.
“What?” he asked, temporarily mollified with the idea he could do the elusive “grownup things.”
“I want you to calm down the people as they come out of the showers.”
“Why?” He frowned, not understanding how that was adult.
“Then you can show how brave you are—being one of the first—and they’ll stop crying too, because they’ll want to be as adult as you.”
He looked at his feet, nodding. I could almost hear the gears ticking in his head.
“I’ll help.” A glimpse of a smile appeared.
I grinned in reply, messing up his hair as he tried to bat me away. A full grin formed on his face as I stood.
I wanted to cry and lash out in frustration, though it would do me no good. I needed to get my family back together, and then we would destroy these bastards, every last one of them. I kept smiling as I watched George go talk to the other kids, everyone listening to him, a few crying and others looking defeated. But there was a glimmer of hope.
He turned to the door and walked over to it slowly as one of the younger kids came out, bawling her eyes out as well. George got her to stop within a few minutes and I felt more guilt hit me, because I was using the kids, just as this Planetary Defense Force was. I just used George like these aliens did. Though I’ll do my best to keep him happy. I looked to the other kids in line. All of them happy.
It felt as if I were in the orphanage intake. That had always been a depressing place, where children were introduced to the home for one reason or another—their parents giving them up, or died and no one else wanted them. They would cry for days, weeks, and months, realizing that no one was coming for them.
It had been a great place to set up my gaming station as no one wanted to go there because of the racket. I found, though, if the children were tired of crying, they would find me, gathering around to watch me play video games, temporarily leaving reality behind. That was what I was getting George to make the others do. For a few minutes, they could think that they didn’t want to cry in front of someone younger than them. I’d keep their minds off what was happening by any means necessary until I could get them away from these bastards and back to their families to live out their childhoods.
I knew, just like those kids who entered the intake at the orphanage, none of them would be the same.
A group of kids had gathered around me, and I had them telling one another their names and let them take it from there. The older ones wandered by, striking up an attempt at conversation. I made idle talk, getting a few names and having some conversation that was essentially the same with every person.
“So, you’re Salchar, eh?” they’d ask.
“Yeah, the one and only. Why do you ask?” I said, bestowing them with a kind smile, just like I would greet any other fan.
“I watched a few of your games. Remember when...” They’d talk about some fragment of a game I barely remembered and talk about how it was a brilliant win or what they would’ve done and such. It was strange; here we were, abducted, and still talking as if we were on Earth.
More and more gathered as the children started asking the teenagers and adults their names, acting as if they were adults themselves, giving out handshakes as if they did it all the time.
I smiled as I studied those around me. I began heartlessly categorizing them. It was a habit from MT. The one who had charged Taleel looked to be an overgrown fifteen-year-old. His size made him look as if he were eighteen. I was the oldest, or looked like it, although I was far from the biggest. An Asian man with kind features who moved as if he was trained in putting people down took that spot. Have to get better acquainted—muscle is always useful.
Then there was Yasu, nineteen and deadlier than anyone in the room. She didn’t look like the deadly creature she truly was as I noticed her hand shaking slightly. It stopped, turning to a fist. She must have sensed my stare; a look of disgust crossed her face. I saw past her slim frame and remembered how I’d seen her fight. She straightened and walked into the implantation room without a trace of her previous nervousness.
I was a strategist, and for my skills to work, I needed people; it was as simple as that. Before, in MT, I had been given my dream team, but here I had to take these people and turn them into a tool. The implants were the first obstacle, and then came building myself a team that I could use to get me out of this prison and make our abductors pay for what they’d done to us, in blood.
So far I had the kids and Rick tentatively on my side. Though there was little I could do with their small bodies, lacking in the majority of the skills I needed. They didn’t know what was going to happen, but I had a grim idea as I looked at Taleel and his enforcers. They’d be getting some of the skills I needed from them through Taleel soon enough.
One by one, people filed into the chair room, Rick quieting them as they came out of the showers. It did two things: it showed that I had Rick, a military person, doing as I said, and it also established a hierarchy, with me at the top. I felt guilty as I was establishing control while these kids were terrified and confused. It was the best time to make a structure. It would give them stability and affirm my position.
I didn’t need them to know me; I just had to have them trust me to do what I told them to do. That meant I was going to have to become Salchar, not just a gamer called Salchar. It was cold reasoning, but I needed to free MT. Guilt made me want to throw up. I was just using these people.
Maybe there’s a way to help everyone. No, I can’t. There’s no surety MT will survive. I need to do this. I hated my own reasoning. I knew that my resolve to just save MT would crumble as I got to know these people.
One of the last people to get nerve ports came out yelling.
“Fuck, that hurt, you assholes!” a wiry-looking teenager said, his anger boiling over.
“Don’t swear in front of the kids,” Rick growled as the other older teenagers gave the guy a harsh look. The younger ones looked slightly confused.
“It’s all your fucking fault.” The wiry one pointed to me as he walked up to me. He had a slim build, but his features and hair product put him as someone who was wealthy.
A larger guy joined him as he walked. From their body language, I could see what was going to happen. They were two scared young men with too much anger and knew no way to release it but on someone else.
I was the biggest target, and with my own slim build, they would probably think that they had me at a disadvantage.
Rick was beside me as I looked for somewhere to run. I only knew how to fight through an interface. I imagined them as two Mechas, but I was having issues as they kept on coming, Wiry getting i
nto my face. Shit.
“Who even made you the boss anyway? I think we should have a vote on who should be the boss around here.” The wiry one looked past me and ignored me as if I wasn’t even worth the attention.
I could see the challenge in his eyes and body. No one did anything. I looked past Wiry, seeing Taleel watching—interested. Hell, it looked as though he was enjoying himself! Yasu also looked on with interest, her panther-like stare watching me.
There were two things that I had been made aware of as I joined the professional gaming circuit with Tail. One: the fans were more brutal than football fans (the world version, not American). If their team lost, they would find where you were and beat you up. There had been more than one incident of team members being killed because they won against another team.
The second was that the gamers, especially those in Asia, were nearly as bad as their fans. For some of them, if they lost a battle then they would have to regain their honor in another battle. For some, a battle didn’t need to be fought on just Mecha Assault and instead fought in real life.
I’d seen videos of fans trying to attack Samurai’s Revenge. This wasn’t your average team; they were all highly trained in hand-to-hand and knew how to handle most weapons and use them. One time, when they’d defeated the top Korean team Skriver, the fans had attacked them. Their bodyguards were overwhelmed so they jumped into the fray. Other than bruises and scratches, they’d been fine. The opposing fans had run in fear and no one had attacked SR ever again.
“No one,” I said, his face inches from mine. He snorted and seemed to look away. I saw the blow coming as he turned viciously, his fist coming up. Pain lanced across my jaw as I stumbled; I used the blow to move around Wiry. I found the bruise was itchy due to the strange atmosphere. Thankfully the pain of breathing had lessened; it must’ve been due to the injections and implants that had been put in my body while in the chair.
I kept Yasu in my peripheral; I didn’t need her seeing my fighting style. If she was like me, then she would need a bit of time to see how I held myself, how I struck and defended, giving her the one-up on me.
Wiry continued to talk, turning away from me and gesturing to me, as if he had no care that I would fight back.
“Look at the weakling, can’t even fight. Who wants a leader who can’t fight?” A sickly grin was on his face as the others cowered away from him, except for the large man who had followed him.
“I don’t,” he said, a feral grin on his face as he clenched his fists. I could see in his eyes he had already looked past beating me. He wasn’t just going to hurt me because he felt he needed to; he wanted to do it because he liked the feeling of power that came from it.
He wasn’t the first bully I’d encountered with the same look on his face.
Anger welled up inside me. I knew what would happen if he got control: everyone would be his slave. I had seen it before. I remembered when I had first entered a family home after I had been found to be gaming in an apartment building with no adult supervision, at the age of fifteen, after having hacked the adoption society and created a fake family to get out of the cursed system.
Look, it’s that kid who wanted to live by himself, the loner. The others in the room sniggered at the nickname. I had the feeling that it was going to stick.
“Leave me alone,” I said, putting my few possessions on my bed. The government had taken all of my stuff, saying that they believed I had stolen it. I had found out on my Asus pad within five minutes that they were selling it online—even my characters and basic translation suit.
There was a thud as the boy got off of his bed, and three others followed him.
“Did you just tell me what to do, Loner?” He dragged out the word as if to rub it in my face more.
“Just leave me alone,” I said, wishing that I could be anywhere else.
“You think you’re kind of special, huh?” A smile came to his lips at my anxiety. He fed off it, like some kind of vampire.
He pushed me on the ground, his eighteen-year-old strength overpowering my fifteen-year-old skinny frame.
I felt my face screw up. It was so unfair!
He squatted down. “Are you going to cry now?” he said, jutting out his lower lip, making his words sound babyish. I turned away as my eyes burned; his hand snaked out as he viciously brought my face to look at his.
“You’re Loner now, Loner. You’ll do everything I say or I’ll kick your ass,” he said.
Rage built in me, but I was helpless; anger was replaced with fear.
He threw me back down and my head cracked on the floor so hard I was dizzy.
I stood up as I felt fury run through me. I had spent three weeks of hell in that home before I could fake transfer papers out. I’m not going to be bullied, or let you bully them. I looked to the kids and the people I’d only just met.
“You want to fight? All right, I’ll fight; no scratching, biting, gouging or low blows. If the other taps, you release,” I said, my hands relaxed and by my sides.
“Look at you and your fucking stupid rules. This is real life, not some video game.” He made a show of it, jabbing a finger in my forehead and pushing me back.
“Do you want to fight?” My blood was up; I wasn’t looking for anywhere to run now.
“Why would I fight a cunt like you?” His eyes filled with disgust as he curled his lip.
I reacted. My first punch connected with his stomach. His eyes bulged as he backed away. I grabbed his neck, bringing his head down fast. My knee viciously connected with his face. His nose crunched against my knee as his head shot backward. Blood was already covering his face.
He raised his hands to his face. I needed to put him down. I kicked as he feebly attempted to block. He stumbled backward as I advanced. I didn’t give him time to recover as my fist connected with his solar plexus. He collapsed to the floor, all of his wind forced out of his body.
The atmosphere and his now inability to breathe turned his pain to panic. His veins bulged; he spat blood and his chest refused to inflate.
The bigger guy charged me, driving me into the wall. I cupped my hands, slapping them against his ears. He roared in pain and his hands darted to them. I dropped to the floor. He turned to face me, his hands just leaving his ears. I didn’t have time to think as I stood up. Using the power of my legs and my arm, I drove my fist into his chin. He had a blank look on his face as he fell backward, unconscious. I cradled my hand, which was throbbing, and looked at my attackers.
“The hell?” someone said as they came out of the implantation room at the two downed bullies.
I walked over to the wiry one, leaning down to check his breathing and put him in the recovery position. I squatted down so only he could hear me.
“Challenge me anytime. Next time, maybe you won’t survive.” Disgust rolled through me. I was the bully now. None of that flickered across my emotionless face, seeing the understanding in Wiry’s eyes.
“Why are you helping him? He was going to beat you up,” Yasu stated calmly, clearly trying to disrupt any control I was establishing over the others.
“He’s still human, part of this squad. No matter what happens, we must remember that we are human. The Geneva Convention says that we should care for one another. If we are enemies or not. Life is hope,” I said.
I stood to face everyone as I shook my hand, trying to get rid of the pain from punching the big boy in the face.
We moved out of the way of enforcers, waiting for blows as, instead, they grabbed the two bullies and took them to the chair.
“Might be of some use after all, flesh bags.” One of them grabbed Wiry’s arm and dragged him. I had a feeling they were used to it.
“Well, Wiry was right about one thing. It does hurt a hell of a lot.” I turned to the rest of the squad, rubbing my neck nerve port for emphasis. For now, we’d escaped a beating.
Grins appeared on more than a few people’s faces.
“Fun’s over. Into formation, two lines!”
Taleel barked. All levity was lost as the twin enforcers began beating us back into our positions. It was clear we were seen as no more than reasonably useful cattle in their eyes.
“Included in the implantation package is a kill switch and a pain implant,” Taleel said.
Every head in the room snapped around to face him and my blood went cold. He looked almost pleased, which I was already feeling didn’t mean good things for me.
“The pain implant is to keep order; if you do not obey, then it will be activated. It is similar to the pain prod; it activates the pain centers of your brain and body, causing you to feel immense pain while having no physical damage, except on higher levels. The kill switch is used if you disobey orders and are deemed as unacceptable. Your officers will have control of both at all times. Keep that always in mind,” he said, as if commenting on the hor d’oeuvres at a restaurant
I reeled in shock. Others reacted more verbally.
“You never told us about a kill switch!” someone yelled out. Some cried and others touched their ports in fear.
“Of course I didn’t!” He pulled out a black box.
I half-heard Taleel. If there is a way to activate them, then there is a way to deactivate them. I just need to find a way.
“I’ll demonstrate.”
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, crying and screaming as I thrashed in unbearable pain. Pain that made me wish my life would end. It finally stopped after a few seconds. I found myself still crying, unable to move from the floor. My nerve endings were on fire; touching anything felt as if I had needles digging into my body.
“We’re going to get you conditioned to dealing with Mechas now.” He kicked me as I cried out again, getting to my feet even through the pain. I didn’t want to give him another reason to activate the implant.
We were now dogs with collars that could kill or punish us at any time.
Another door opened in the wall. The wiry man and his henchman were now looking as they had before they’d come at me. The enforcers put them before me and Rick.