Trigger Warning: Once again, last few (three) paragraphs contain graphic scenes of sexual violence. Be warned.
Time: The following morning.
Shattering of Illusion
Daichi opened the cooler, checked its contents, and made a note to make more sandwiches. Or rather print them, the boy mused. He doubted there were many fridges on this world. What use would they be when food was printed on demand via 3D printers, with the leftovers tossed into the attached bin for recycling. From what he understood the same applied to diapers, which was a fact that bothered him a little. With three siblings he knew all too well the state a diaper could be in before it was changed, and the thought that it would be recycled into food gave him the shudders. Technically he knew the same applied to his world; food became waste, which became fertilizer, which became plants, which became the vegetables on the table. Still it bothered him. Of course there were no kids quite that young with them, but each time he sat on a toilet . . . . He shuddered, resolving to never check whether or not that ended up in the bin of the 3D printer. He knew it did, somehow, but if he didn't check then he could beg ignorance, and that suited him just fine.
He moved on, checking the drinks next. Making sure there was enough for the kids to eat and drink was something he'd started doing almost by instinct. With three siblings it was just a continuation of what he did at home. And while there was that 3D printer in the storage room, it didn't mean everyone cared to put in the effort to learn how to use it, or to read the labels on a hundred different food items to see if it was good for them or not. Given they were kids, he doubted they even cared if something was good for them. They would probably go with what tasted good and drink nothing but soda or, heaven forbid, beer. So he'd started. Fruits and vegetables weren't a big thing here. With food being printed rather than grown that was natural, or perhaps unnatural if you thought about it, but kids still needed the minerals and vitamins that generally came from fruits and vegetables. With plenty of online help, he'd worked out how to make sure the kids, as he thought of them though he was only fourteen himself, were eating healthy.
Then there was Chizu. While he had no idea whether the baby would be born or aborted, he knew good nutrition for the mother was important. And should she have the child he wanted it to at least start life healthy. Daichi shook his head sadly, knowing that the girl was way too young to give birth, that it entailed risks no one that age should undertake. Unable to do more he'd looked through the online information he could find, and did research on what foods a young mother to be should eat. Iron was important, so he'd made sure many foods were rich in it. High blood pressure was a risk, so he made sure to include items that helped keep said blood pressure under control. At least the girl wasn't fussy about what she ate. Still, he knew she should be under the care of a doctor, a pediatrician, and he worried. The body of a twelve-year-old wasn't meant for sex, nor that of a thirteen-year-old for giving birth.
Clenching his fists, wishing a certain teacher's neck was between them, the boy took a deep breath, and continued on with his list. Seeing Maki take a plate of food towards Kako's door, he made a note to print more pain killers, or rather pain suppressors as the people here called them. That the two had become friends surprised him. He was sure Maki wasn't into guys, and Kako had a reputation for . . . . Well, not being nice. Still, for the short time they'd been on this foreign Earth the guy had been rather pleasant to talk to, and more than helpful. He'd also proven to be quite the pilot. Of course there was the question of just how and where he'd managed to get kicked like that.
Closing the notepad on his phone, he looked around the room. In one corner Anko and Kanji were sitting together sharing a bowl of chips, or rather what passed for chips on this world. The two were blushing frequently, and obviously deliberately accidently touching hands when each reached into the bowl. Now that's what being thirteen is meant to be like, Daichi mused with a grin. Seeing at least two of his friends acting like kids made him happy. Then there was Machi and Ushiro. The two of them were sitting at the main table examining the model of MEarth that was still there. They too seemed to be getting along rather well, sitting closer together than you would normally expect. In reality he was surprised the group was getting along as well as it was. They were all kids who'd been randomly brought together and put through a trauma that must've left a few marks. Despite that the only one he truly worried about was Chizu. That, and who the next pilot would be.
Nodding, content that his domain was in order, Daichi shoved his phone into a pocket, and headed over to Moji. He also was sitting at the main table, looking at the MEarth model. "Wonder why this thing has no weapons?" Daichi mused, studying the model himself. "Seems sort of one-sided if you ask me."
"No idea. We got lucky last time." Moji didn't bother to look up as he continued to tap at his cell phone, using his intuition to find answers regarding their next fight. It was a tiresome process when he had to ask himself the same question a hundred or more times, studying what his instincts told him each of those times. The answer those instincts told him was right most often was what the group went with. So far it hadn't failed them.
"How often do you think we can get lucky?" Daichi leaned over the table, peering at the model as if by sheer willpower he could make it sprout weapons. Preferably something large and powerful, like a cannon that shot hydrogen bombs.
"I'm pretty sure it won't less than 0," Moji said, attempting a bit of humor.
"Haha," Daichi replied, smiling. "If we'd known how to use your skills when we were in ZEarth it would certainly have helped." He studied the boy. "Why did you decide to accept the deal? You could be back home using that power of yours to figure out if a girl likes you or something."
"I could ask the same of you. It's not as though you had anyone who died. You could be back with your family."
"I could," Daichi admitted, wondering for the millionth time if he'd made the right decision, knowing it was the only one he could've made. "But the way I see it is you don't just abandon friends. And . . . ." He went silence, unsure of what to say.
"You see us as a family," Moji said, smiling at the guy. "You feed us, and worry over us. Probably more so than some of our parents did." He shrugged. "Just so you know, we appreciate it."
"Well, . . . ." Daichi blushed. "You know, got to make busy work while we're here or we'll go crazy."
Moji nodded. "I'm glad you came along," he admitted. "I came because I knew I would be needed. Still not sure what's up with this deal, but when I ask if it's good or bad, I get the answer good most of the time." His eyes slid over to the room where Mirror usually stayed. "But I'm not too sure on that. If they, you know, might be rigging it."
"You think they can?"
"I do. When I asked if it's rigged the answer is no, but when I ask if they could rig it the answer is yes."
"Oh." Daichi frowned. While he was pretty sure Machi and Ushiro knew more about the deals that'd been made, Sakura and Mirror had been pretty secretive with the rest of the group. "What else do you get on them?"
"Zilch. Most times my intuition doesn't work on them."
"Pity." The boy was quiet for a few seconds, thinking. Finally he took a deep breath and asked, "What about the masterminds? Anything on them?"
"Nothing. While it's great at times, this intuition thing is sometimes a pain. Never know when it's going to work. Can't even get any results about our next opponent."
"Multiverse," a voice said behind them.
Moji and Daichi both jumped, turning to see Mirror looking down at the model of MEarth with them. Both, wondering if the girl had heard them talking about her and Sakura, developed sweaty hands, along with something of a tummy ache.
"Your intuition works great on things that are in the same universe, but trying to see what's going on in others is a waste of time. That is unless you can observe something from that universe." The girl's eyes glazed over for a second before her focus returned to the two. "I don't suppose you've heard about Schrödinger's cat?" she asked. "Probably not. It's a bit above what seventh graders would learn about. But other universes are like a closed box. You can't see what's inside. You need to open the box first."
"Hrm . . . ." Moji struggled to think of how that affected them. "How do I open a box?"
"If you're not there, then you need to use an object that's from there. Take for example the mechs you fight. When they're in their own universe they're in a closed box. You can't see anything. When they're here they're in a box that's open to you and you can use your intuition. The same with Sakura," she told them with a grin. "When she's here you can try to use your intuition on her, but I suggest you not get too nosey and ask embarrassing questions. She would know about that, and just might take offense."
"Oh," Moji gulped. "Why could I see who the last pilot was going to be?" he asked. "Was pretty sure it was going to be Kako last time, and it was. But now, . . . ." He shrugged helplessly.
"Kako is in this universe, and was going to ask to be first regardless. " The girl tilted her head, thinking. "I would suggest the first question you ask when you're called to a fight is, 'who would be best for the fight?' At that time the mech you'll be fighting will be here, as well as all of you. Just keep Machi for the last battle."
"Why?"
Mirror shrugged. "One more question," she told them.
"Ummm." Daichi and Moki both struggled to think.
Moji's eyes lit up. "But my intuition has worked before when stuff wasn't in this universe," he stated. "When I asked if we had a chance."
Mirror's eyes flickered from the left to the right, then she leaned in close, whispering to Moji only. "It's true you do have a chance. Be assured of that. But only if you have confidence in yourselves and work hard. That was Sakura meddling with the results." She leaned away.
"Oh." Moji gulped. "Oh." He firmly shut his mouth, keeping his eyes away from Daichi's, not wanting to let the secret out.
"You're boys, right?" the girl said, suddenly smirking. "You tend to do gross stuff, like eat worms and all that?"
"Well, I think we're a little too old to eat earthworms," Daichi said. "Though you know, I have tried them. So long as all the dirt is washed off, and they're well fried, they're actually pretty good."
"Well, I dare you to top that."
"Hrm." Moji looked at Daichi and both shrugged.
Mirror held out the index finger of her left hand and wiggled it. "Don't worry, it's all washed and clean, so no germs," she told them, still smirking. "And no, I don't have the cooties or anything like that." Then, with a pocket knife that appeared in her right hand, she pricked the finger. A tiny drop of blood formed and dropped to the table where it bounced a few times. "I dare the next pilot to see if they like the taste of blood," the girl said, one eyebrow raised as she studied them.
"Ummmm." Daichi, wondering how a drop of blood could bounce, reached out and touched it. It was soft, but not wet, the texture being that of a gummy bear. "What is it?" he asked, looking up at the girl with a raised eyebrow of his own.
"A dare, of course," Mirror replied. "But only for the next pilot." She tilted her head again, eyes becoming unfocused as if she saw something no one else could. "An hour and the next fight will start," she simply said, turning to leave the group.
"Strange girl," Daichi said, fingering the 'drop of blood' again.
"Very," Moji agreed, waiting to make sure the girl was safely out of hearing range before he spoke. Not that he believe that was of any help.
"You're late," Kako said sharply, glaring at Drop Dead.
"Huh?" The creature floated down to peer at the boy.
"You were supposed to call us," Kako looked at his phone, "six minutes ago, weren't you?"
"Well, yes I was but . . . . Wait, how do you know what time the fight was for?"
Kako shrugged. "Who cares? The fact is you were late. Don't you have any sense of professionalism at all?" The boy took his seat, crossing his arm, not looking happy.
"Well, . . . ." Drop Dead flew away, deciding to ignore the boy. "Who dies today?" he asked with glee, knowing that would cheer him up.
Moji looked up from his phone to discretely point at Daichi.
Ah drats, the chosen boy quietly grumbled, and recalling what the strange girl had said, reluctantly slipped the red drop of blood into his mouth. It tasted like strawberries. Sweet, and juicy. "Guess that's me," he said.
"Panic, scream, beg, . . . ." Drop Dead ordered, sounding as if he was the one begging.
"Guys, last fight was a little long so I brought snacks incase we need them," was the only response the boy made. He turned towards Penny, turning a little red. "If you want I added enough for you, so don't be shy." He gave her a smile, forcing his eyes to meet her eyes. For some reason they wanted to remain on her chest, or her legs, especially her legs. "Didn't know what you like, but there's quite a variety." He turned to Chizu. "I added some of those drinks you like, so be sure to have one."
"Cry," Drop Dead begged.
"Humanoid, not especially tough, but pretty dangerous," Moji said, casually placing the phone in his lap for a second so he could crack his fingers. "Can't find the cockpit, but I'll keep working on it."
"How can you know that?" the creature asked, and was ignored.
"Thanks," Daichi replied, sitting in the center chair. "Not sure how that helps us since this blasted thing has no weapons."
"True. I feel like we should sue someone or something," Kako said, glaring at Drop Dead again. "Are you to blame for that?" he asked, making it a demand.
"No, see worlds have ranks," the creature started to reply. "Lower rank worlds get less powerful mechs." Briefly he wondered why he was answering. He was the boss.
"Who do we sue over it?" Anko asked, sounding serious. "Might be different universes, but they're all human, aren't they? Humans always have lawyers. It's in our DNA."
"No one. Now . . . ."
"We're forgetting something important," Maki said sharply, snapping her fingers.
"Oh right," Komo added. "We got to give them nicknames."
"What?" Drop Dead was confused.
Komo turned to looked at Kodama. "What was it you called him yesterday? she asked.
"Snotball," the boy replied. "it suits him. I mean what else can you call it?" He pointed and shrugged.
"Any other suggestions?" Maki asked, frowning when she looked around and saw everyone's blank look. "Come on people, he's made of ceramic or something. Doesn't really fit with snotball."
"Dried Snot," Ushiro mused, giving it some serious thought. "Whatever you call it, it does look like snot, so . . . ." He shrugged.
Maki sighed, looking distressed. "Whatever," she finally said. "Let's take a vote. Who's for snotball?" Eight of the group raised their hands which the girl slowly counted.
"Snotball it is then," she said. "Dumb name, but . . . ." she shrugged as well.
"You do realize one of you is going to die today, right?" Drop Dead asked. "And that I could just kill you all."
"How long were you waiting for pilots?" Kako asked.
"Not that long."
"More than six months," Penny spoke up, agreeing with Drop Dead that this group was crazy. But they were also interesting. She might even remember them for a while before they vanished amidst all the other faces.
"You probably got lucky," Kako said. "Next wait might be a year. It'll all be gone by then. Poof, vanished. No more universe. You don't want to be known as the guy who can't get the job done do you? First being late, and then not getting pilots. I'll bet you'll get fired."
Drop Dead froze in the air, causing Kako to grin. Whoever the masterminds were they didn't seem like nice guys, and he figured getting rid of an underling or two wasn't above them. It seemed he was right. "So what is it, Snotball?" he asked. "Getting rid of us?"
Drop Dead bounced around the room, wanting to make them all disappear. Eventually he calmed down.
Penny gritted her teeth, struggling not to giggle at the sight. Strange indeed, she told herself, feeling amused for the first time since she could remember.
"Get ready," Drop Dead muttered, sounding rather glum.
"Wait," Daichi shouted.
"Ready to beg?" Drop Dead asked, immediately dropping down beside the boy. "Beg."
"Are we going to give Penny a nickname?" the boy asked.
Penny blinked, wondering if she liked the idea. If the boss was Snotball then she hated to think what she would be called, but it was something new.
"Huh?" Drop Dead asked, dropping down to rest on the floor.
"Well, Penny is a pretty name as it is," Anko said, looking at the girl under discussion.
"It is," Daichi agreed, refusing to stare at the girl's breasts or her legs.
Maki started to grin, and raised an eyebrow. The grin turned into a smirk. "What do you suggest?" she asked.
"I don't know," the boy answered, suddenly red-faced.
"I'm sure you had something in mind," Maki retorted. "What was it?"
"Well, . . . ." Daichi looked at the floor. "Right now I feel like dying," he told them, face getting even redder.
"Speak up," the girl demanded.
Moji, knowing all the banter was to delay the battle, giving him time to divine what they needed to know about the enemy, looked up and tried to see if he could guess. "Cutie," he said, immediately knowing it was the answer.
"Damn you," Daichi said, glaring at the boy while all around him the group broke down in laughter. Maki even slipped from her chair.
Penny blinked, confused by the name and by the actions of this group of kids. Insane, she decided, but I like them. Then the girl cringed, knowing liking a group only made their deaths harder to bear. She figured her misery, the unending pain of loss, was the only reason she was kept around. It was to amuse Drop Dead.
"Cutie?" Maki teased, snorting as she giggled. "it does fit," she added, "But really?"
"I was just making a suggestion," Daichi countered. "I was figuring you girls would come up with something."
"Cutie it is," Komo suddenly declared. "I mean, come on, if something can get us laughing this much when we're all going to die, . . . ." The girl shrugged. "it'll be a good reminder that we can laugh, and I agree, she is really cute. Wish I had those eyes."
"Nicknames given, Maki stated happily. "What's next on the list?"
"Your friend dying," Drop Dead suggested hopefully.
Maki shooed him away. "Is that it?" she asked.
Daichi cringed, still burning a bright red. Ah hell, he told himself, and looked up at Penny. "So, do you give kisses to all the boys who win, or was Kako somehow special?"
Penny, or rather Cutie, blushed. "Given how it worked last time, I might make it a habit," she told him, voice wavering a bit.
Daichi gulped. "Dead or alive, I think that would make my day."
"Dead is the only option," Drop Dead told the boy, not expecting anyone to listen to him.
"Guess it's time to fight," Daichi said, looking out at the enemy mech. With five pilot lights still lit up it was, as Moji had predicted, humanoid. It also didn't look very tough. It did, however, have around thirty cockpits decorating its surface. There were four on each arm and leg, as well as four on the head. On the torso were several more. "So many fake ones?" the boy asked. "Is that why you can't find the right cockpit?" He was glad they were in the same desert as before, or a very similar one with no people in sight.
"No. I shouldn't be affected by those." Moji didn't look up. "It's got lasers in each arm, as well several missile launchers. Max of six missiles per arm. Those tubes on the back are larger missiles." He gulped nervously. "Don't let them hit us; they're in the high megaton range."
"Jeepers," Daichi said, shaking his head. "You know, when I was looking at MEarth earlier, I was wishing it had H-bombs. Now I find that's what the enemy has."
"Jinxer," Komo taunted.
"Yeah yeah," he shot back. "Guess that'll teach me to make wishes."
Even though they'd never seen it before in ZEarth, once again a screen popped up beside the image of the enemy mech.
"Ready to lose, Drop Dead?" another snotball type creature asked. "Heard you broke your losing streak last time around."
"Actually, I want to lose," Drop Dead replied. "These kids are crazy."
"Look at the moron they got for a pilot," a young man in what appeared to be a black military uniform snickered. "He looks too stupid to even know how to talk."
"Lazy looking bugger," another man added, also snickering. "Wonder who changes his diaper."
"Probably a queer," a third added with a scornful look.
"Bet he has a small dick," another interjected, gazing at Daichi derisively.
"We'll crush him like a worm," another said contemptuously.
Daichi nodded to himself. "I see," he said, reaching down to pull a bar out of the bag he'd brought. "Taking a bite," he gazed back at the enemy pilots with the serenity of buddha himself.
Waku studied the enemy pilots, glad Daichi had been the pilot chosen. These people were trying to play the game they themselves had played with that kid pilot last time, but Daichi was used to dealing with three younger siblings. Of all of them he was best suited for this. Now if only Moji could find the enemy's cockpit, and if only this thing had weapons.
Moji chewed the chocolatey tasting mouthful of bar, savoring it. With the kids it was a favorite, though little did they know the people of this world had managed to pack it full of nutrition. He swallowed, and pointed to the first pilot. "A question to the smart-looking guy," he said. "If I'm too dumb to talk how would I know what you're saying? Would be pretty stupid to try to insult someone when they can't understand you?" The boy slowly shook his head and sighed. "Not smart dude, not smart."
"Moron," the other pilot snarled.
"Yes you are," Daichi serenely agreed, "not to mention rude. Now on to the guy who said I looked lazy." His eyes roamed over the pilot in question, not missing a detail. "Who tied your shoelaces for you?" he asked. "A person can tell if someone tied their own shoelaces by the way the bows are tied. And you clearly didn't tie your own." Daichi gave a deep sigh, radiating the aura of someone with great patience dealing with a ruly child. "Guess it's too late to learn now, kid. Sorry."
He turned to look at the other two pilots. "And please stop looking at my crotch," he told them. "It's okay if you're into that sort of thing, but play with each other." He glanced towards Penny for a second, grinning. "Besides, I got the promise of a very cute girl that she'll kiss me if I win. Be damned if I'm letting a bunch of blubbering clowns mess that up."
Moji shook his head. "I've tried and tried," he told the group in a whisper. "But each time I ask where the enemy cockpit is my intuition fizzles."
Drop Dead looked around, noted that Daichi wasn't getting riled up as he'd hoped, and switched off the link to the other mech. From what it seemed it was the other pilots who were getting pissed. Still, he knew he would soon be rid of the crazy bunch.
"Run," Moji said, and pointed. "That way. Keep five kilometer or so ahead of them."
Daichi nodded, giving the command. MEarth rolled off. moving quickly with the enemy in pursuit. Lasers struck around them, mostly missing.
Waku, leaning forward in his chair, followed the action. At five kilometers he knew the other mech would find it hard to hit a fast moving MEarth. They would hit some, but the distance was also close enough it might make the enemy reluctant to use their big weapons, the H-bombs. He shuddered, wondering just how big those nukes were.
Daichi kept going in the direction indicated by Moji, finding that MEarth was much easier to control than ZEarth had been. Briefly he wondered if it was due to the weight training, or perhaps that MEarth itself was lighter. Whatever it was, they were way faster than the enemy. When the enemy stopped he stopped, frowning as lasers tore into them.
"Damn," Waku muttered under his breath. "If we open the distance they used the big guns; if we stay here they tear us apart with their lasers. Circle them."
"Will do," Daichi replied, and sent MEarth moving again, now circling the enemy as fast as he could. The terrain blurred past, and while some of the lasers still hit, most didn't. Still, they were taking damage when the other mech wasn't. If this kept up there could be only one result. And what if they got in a lucky strike, one that hit their all too visible cockpit?
"Missiles coming," Moji said. "Just keep circling for now."
They came, two at a time, until all twelve of the enemy's smaller missiles had been used up. Striking the ground around MEarth they blasted up mushroom-shaped clouds. Still MEarth rolled on.
"Holy shit," Kako gasped. "Those were nukes."
"Indeed," Waku replied, speaking barely loud enough for the others to hear. He was studying MEarth's condition, and was surprised to find it was still in fairly good shape. Quite a few of the wires that formed the cylinder were broke, but it seemed so long as they had enough to hold together they were fine. One of the hoops that the wires attached to was badly bent, but there were others to help MEarth keep its shape. "Not so fragile after all," he told the others. "No strong spots, but any one hit only damages a tiny fraction of the whole. It'll take quite a few strikes to kill us. He looked at Machi, "When this fight is over make a model of this thing and do some tests. See just how bad we can be damaged and still fight."
Machi nodded. "Will do."
Komo, replaying the nuclear attack in her mind, hesitantly spoke, "Not being solid actually helped. I think. The blasts were partly stopped by the wires, but the gaps between them let the rest of explosion pass through." Her face turned grim. "But notice how our cockpit is damaged, or at least discolored," she told them, cringing.
"Yeah," Waku replied, cringing as well.
"So I just keep circling?" Daichi asked, still commanding MEarth to move for all it was worth. "At this rate we'll die eventually." He watched as more wires snapped, hit by lasers.
"It's okay," Waku said. "For now at least. We got a few minutes to spare to figure things out." He looked over at Moji.
"The big nukes are unguided, just like the small ones. But they're a lot bigger." Moji looked up. "I don't know what to do."
"Good," Drop Dead snarled. "I hate you blasted kids."
"Quiet, Snotball," Maki said, shooing him away again. "We're busy."
Waku gave a sigh, gritting his teeth. "Unguided you say?" he asked, face white.
Moji nodded. "Yeah."
Waku grimaced, face still white. "Here's what you do," he told Daichi. "We're going to open the distance."
"They'll shoot those things at us," the boy warned, interrupting.
"Of course they will," Waku said, "but not until we're so far away that they themselves won't take damage. That's going to be quite a distance. In fact, if they try to play it safe they'll let us get a bit further than that. Now we're fast, so as soon as they shoot make a ninety-degree turn and run. Put on all the speed you can, and pray, and run and . . . . " He took a deep breath. "If they let us open the distance enough, if those missiles are slow enough, if we're fast enough." He looked over at Moji.
"Do it," the boy said. "My intuition says they will use those nukes soon even if we are close." He shooked his head, puzzled. "For some reason they're not too worried about taking damage." He looked up, "Hurry."
Daichi nodded, already ordering MEarth to sprint forward. "Just like a video game," he told himself. "Just wish I'd played a few more of them." His eyes froze, drawn to something. A city. "I'm turning," he said.
"No." Moji's voice cut through the cockpit like a knife. "It's empty, evacuated."
Daichi shook his head, almost in a daze. "You sure?"
"Yes."
With no time to think, the boy kept the mech hurling towards the city. In his mind he saw people dying by the millions, maybe the hundreds of millions. Then they entered the gap between two of the mighty structures this world used as buildings.
"Missile launch," Waku yelled.
Daichi made a ninety-degree turn and ran, knowing they were doomed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Penny sitting in her chair with a frown on her face. Seeing her there, her green eyes looking so sad, he pushed the mech as fast as he could, demanding it move faster than it ever did before. MEarth obeyed.
"Hide," Waku commanded.
MEarth, at the command of its pilot, ground to a halt, hiding behind a building decorated with a three-kilometer tall mermaid.
Daichi waited, sweating profusely as he counted the seconds. "Well?" he asked frantically, sounding puzzled. "Where's the explosion?" He felt a tremor, but saw nothing.
"Done and gone," Kodama told him, yawning before going back to his book.
"Run," Moji yelled again.
Daichi, unsure of what was happening obeyed. Three minutes later when Waku yelled hide he twisted MEarth behind another building. Again he saw and felt nothing other than a moderate tremor. "Guys," he said, eyes still on the screen, "I know I'm the pilot and all, but what's going on?"
"What the fuck are those building made out of?" Drop Dead roared, trembling in fury.
"An artificial-diamond lattice," Kodama said. "There're other things between the lattice structure but, . . . ." He shrugged. "Let's just say it's pretty tough."
"But those missiles were five-hundred megatons," Drop Dead wailed. "I don't care what they were made of."
Daichi blinked. "Five-hundred megatons?" The boy turned white, gulping.
"They're holding off on their last missile," Moji said, clicking frenetically at his phone. "Out in the desert those missiles would've vaporized anything within a few hundred kilometers, but the buildings cut that down to less than a few dozen." He looked at Daichi. "Take us some distance from the building and look up."
Shrugging, Daichi did so. "Holy crap," he exclaimed. "Holy fucking crap." Rising far into the atmosphere were two gigantic mushroom clouds, intermingled together. "How big?" he finally asked, still gulping.
Drop Dead sighed. "The top of those mushrooms are well above the atmosphere," he told the boy. "Maybe as high as four-hundred kilometers. Any satellites directly above us are now gone." The ceramic-looking creature pondered that for a second. "Or they should be. On this world with you freaks I just don't know anymore." He gave a deep, desolate sounding, sigh.
"By the way," Waku told the still stunned pilot. "I'm pretty sure you broke the sound barrier there. Good job."
Daichi just nodded, and kept staring.
"Too bad they didn't use the last one," Waku mused aloud, frowning. "If they had we would only have to worry about that laser of theirs and direct combat."
"We're safe in the city," Moji added.
"Yeah." Waku studied the screen. "We're too fast for them to catch, and the buildings would block their lasers." He looked at the group, grinning. "I bet they're pissed."
Daichi kicked the bag at his feet. "It's quite the show, and I'm not just saying that because I'm the star. Dig in."
When the bag slid over to him Kako took out a bar and a drink, then kicked the bag over to the next chair where Kodama sat.
"You're going to eat?" Drop Dead asked.
"Shouldn't we?" Daichi replied, looking confused. "There's always food at sporting events, you know. Always. I've seen them on television. Now that I'm not only at one, but part of one, I'm going to enjoy the grub."
Kako glanced at Chizu, trying not to let her see the worried look. When the bag came her way she took nothing. He wasn't even sure she'd saw it. He turned to look at Maki, getting her attention, then let his eyes slide back to Chizu. Maki nodded, understanding. Not leaving her chair, she reached out with her leg and snared the bag. Aside from what she took for herself she also took a container of milk. Form followed function, and much like on their Earth it had a straw a person could punch through the top. Doing so the girl then passed the drink over to Chizu.
"Here honey," she said, passing her the drink. She gave a sigh of relief when the girl started to drink.
"Damn cockpit," Moji screamed, startling then all. He savagely tore into a sandwich, chewing with his mouth open. "Why can't I find it? Does it even have one?"
Chizu stared at the container in her hand, hating the fact the sweet tasting drink was delicious. She was also having trouble detaching her mind from what Kodama had done to her that morning. Slowly she took another sip before she looked up to peer around the cockpit. "Have you asked if it's not on the mech?" she asked. "Or maybe a part that you're not taking into consideration?"
Moji blinked, tossed the sandwich wrapper on the floor, and started tapping at the phone again. "It's not on the mech," he bellowed in victory. "It's not on the mech." He paused. "Then where is it?" He started tapping again. "
Waku slapped his forehead. "It's a trick," he muttered angrily. "Someone fighting that blasted mech is supposed to spend all their time messing with the fake ones while the real one isn't even there."
"Brother," Drop Dead muttered, resting on the floor. "I think you're the first ones to figure that out. But you can't find it, and you can't kill it, so you're all going to die."
"It's to the north," Moji said. "More than two hundred kilometers away. Checking three hundred."
"Ask if it's invisible or something," Waku ordered. "Will we see it if we get close enough?" He frowned. If it was cloaked then finding it was going to be a pain.
A minute later Moji answered, "Six-hundred kilometers. It's cloaked, but it has zero defenses, even less than what a normal cockpit does." He looked up grinning. "If we run over it, it's history." He blushed when there was a cheer throughout the room.
"Thanks Chizu," Maki quietly added, looking at the girl. "You solved that problem for us." She smiled, trying to cheer the girl up.
"For sure, thanks Chizu," several of the others pitched in.
"Now," Waku said, sounding upbeat. "We got one more of those H-bombs to deal with, and we can go after that thing. Any suggestions?" He looked around the room.
"Screw that," Kako said, "If we get close enough to the cockpit they won't dare use that missile. It would be end game for them. We run for it."
"They would blast us long before we got to it." Moji and Waku said, speaking as one. They briefly looked at each other and shrugged.
Komo leaned forward. "Travel around the edge of the city slowly. Keep enough distance that we can run for it if they use that bomb, but place us on the opposite side of the city from that cockpit."
Waku nodded. "I see," he said. "Let's see if they're good at chicken."
Komo smirked. "No loss to us either way, but if they blink, we win."
Daichi shrugged, playing along even if he didn't know what was going on. "If you guys say so." Once again MEarth stirred to life at his command. Soon they were on the far side of the massive city relative to the cockpit.
"Will they fall for it?" Komo asked anxiously.
"They will," Moji assured her.
Waku nodded. "They don't know we know where their cockpit is. They have no reason not to fall for it."
The group waited, gulping down more food as only kids can. Daichi kicked the bag over to Penny, insisting she too take something. Meanwhile the enemy mech did as expected, traveling around the city, closing the distance.
"Now," Komo shouted, eyes having never wavered from the screen. "Dash towards the cockpit."
Daichi did so, racing for all he was worth. Once again MEarth broke the sound barrier. Immediately, perhaps acting on impulse, the enemy launched their last nuke. As before Daichi turned, racing away at a ninety-degree angle. And as before when the missile was about to impact he hid behind one of the buildings. That was where the similarity ended. Even if the buildings provided some protection they were far closer this time around, and beneath them the ground savagely shook while the air turned to a bright-white fire. As massive and strong as the buildings were a five-hundred megaton blast destroyed a number of them, and damaged many more, turning an area fifteen kilometers in radius to either ruin or crumbling crater. Still, MEarth at thirty kilometers from the blast, hidden behind what looked to be a grinning, and very well endowed Satyr, survived. The massive mech rolled out of the city with at least half of its wire strands missing and seven loops either badly bent or broken, yet it did roll. Turning, it headed directly for the enemy cockpit, moving at just beneath the speed of sound. The enemy mech, itself badly wounded in the blast, futilely gave chase.
"Damn, it's not here; it can move," Moji muttered an hour later. "But it's slow. Can't be moving more than fifty kilometers an hour."
Waku nodded, and the hunt began. For three hours the enemy cockpit, unseen, tried to evade the seer's intuition, and for three hours MEarth brutally hunted it. Then it was over.
"No." Drop Dead screamed. "That was a level ten mech. You can't beat it, you can't. Damn you kids."
"What level is this one?" Waku asked, curious.
"Level one," Penny said, grinning.
The girl stood when Daichi did and approached him, nervous. The kiss that followed was one of passion. For Penny it was the returning of emotions she'd long buried: hope, joy, excitement, affection, not to mention the thrill of battle. For Daichi it was sorrow at what was to come, and lust for the girl. If it was to end he wanted to seize all he could. So when her lips met his, his arms closed around her, and he even dared to brush her hair. Penny sunk into the embrace, feeling the warm and strong comfort of those arms, and the way his hand had grazed her hair. Still it was chaste, for Daichi dared nothing more than the touching of lips, while Penny didn't know more than that. They were teens who were in heaven, and they rejoiced in it.
It was ten minutes later that Moji cleared his throat. "Sorry dude, I know this is going to come as a shock, but today is not your day to die." He shrugged.
Kako looked at Drop Dead and asked, "Dude, can't you get anything right?"
Maki stood next to the door, standing just inside Kako's room. She was twiddling her toes nervously. Sure they were friends now, but asking for help? She wasn't too sure on that.
"Hi," Kako said, greeting the girl with a smile. He tilted his head, examining her. "New haircut?" he asked, half guessing.
"Yeah." She reached up and patted her hair, blushing. The women on this world were beautiful, with nearly all of them looking both perfectly healthy and athletic. Drab as she might be compared to them, she still wanted to try to look her best when outside the apartment.
"It's going to drive the girls crazy," he told her, winking.
"Doubt it," she retorted, smiling. He might be a guy, but that was okay. The compliment was welcomed, and should he pass the line she would say so. They each knew where the other stood. "Can I ask a favor?" she asked. "I want to get a few of the pills Mirror mentioned a few days back, the ones that can cure leukemia."
"Have Daichi print them up? he asked, wondering. "Guy has that printer figured out like the back of his hand."
Maki shook her head. "He can't. Seems some of the ingredients are pretty addictive. Got to be over twenty-three to get them."
"Oh. "
"I was wondering if you knew how to get your hands on them?"
"To be honest, in our world I probably could get my hands on any sort of drug," Kako admitted. He looked up at her, "Not that I have. Even I didn't want drugs floating around school. Place was crazy enough as it was."
"Yeah." She cringed, thinking of teachers who preyed on pre-teens. "By the way, Chizu still isn't talking other than to say go away. Doesn't even open her door ."
Kako lowered his head, sighing. "She has it bad enough without my being here. Perhaps if I just stayed away? Drop Dread can pick me up from anywhere."
Maki pursed her lips, giving it some serious thought. While the boy had recovered from his breakdown, as she thought of it, that didn't mean Chizu accepted it. Also, it was obvious that if someone had to stay away it should be him. For whatever reason he'd acted the way he did, Chizu was the innocent in all of this. "No, that would disrupt the group," she finally told him. "And . . . . I have an idea, come on." She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
"Hey, Moji," the girl said a few seconds later. "Bad boy here has a question."
Moji looked up. "Answering questions is my middle name." He glared at Kako. "But in his case I'll make it, murder incorporated is my middle name." He flexed the fingers of the hand that was still bandaged.
Kako shook his head. "That's all the thanks I get for making you a rich man drowning in girls?" He looked at Maki. "Maybe his name should be Ungrateful, not Intuition Guy?"
"You call him PinCushion most of the time," Maki pointed out.
"Well, there's still the money and the girls."
"What money and what girls?" Moji asked, looking around. "I don't see much of either falling into my lap."
"Thanks to my brilliant work you now have a super power," Kako pointed out. "Easy to win the lotto." He shrugged. "As for girls, you can just use your intuition to ask which ones are willing to sleep with you. No more wondering, no more doubt."
Moji looked at Maki, blushing. "I would never use it that way," he insisted.
"Bull," Maki and Kako said together.
"What's the question?" the boy asked, covering his face with his hands. 'If it's should I kill Kako, I can tell you the answer is yes. The world would thank me for it."
"Question is this," Maki told him. "If Kako were to take up residence elsewhere, assuming it's possible, would the results be: disaster, very bad, bad, neutral, good, very good, super duper deluxe good?" At his expression she quickly added. "Just residence, not running away."
"Oh. Why?" He looked between the two. "Lover's quarrel?" He raised an eyebrow.
"We're not like that," Maki insisted. She shrugged. "But if you need a reason, run with it."
"Just a minute." Moji wrote the question into his cell phone along with the list of possible answers. Then he started tapping, "I get a hundred percent response that it would be good for my mental health if he left," the boy finally said. Then he gave a deep sigh, looking as if he wanted to cry. "But it would a disaster overall."
"So he should stay?" Maki asked.
"Yeah. Be a disaster if he left," Moji confirmed. "Only thing at risk if he stays is my sanity."
"Have Machi help you with the pills," Mirror said, passing by the trio, making them jump. "Be good practice for her."
Resting naked on the bed, listening to the agonized whimpers of the equally naked girl on the floor, Kodama gave a deep sigh of pleasure. This morning he'd paid the 3D printer a visit and made some knitting needles. As a kid they'd been his favorite tool. They were long while the holes they made were ever so tiny. They were perfect. For a while, when he was around ten or so, he'd been neighbors with a girl of around five. Dumb and whiney as the brat had been, she'd had a dog that'd been dumber still. The boy licked his lips, drooling as he recalled how much fun it had been each day, after dark, to sneak over and visit the mutt. No one had ever figured out why the dog went mad, not with the family being too dumb and poor to call a vet. The pain of the mutt as he'd stuck the needles right through its body had been so exquisite; the barks, the whimpers, the futile growls. Kodama giggled. At times he'd driven the needle up through the dog's anus, at other times down through the mouth. He figured it was one of the times when he'd used the nostrils, driving the sharp instrument right into the creature's brain, that the stupid creature had went mad. He'd expected it to die at that point, but instead it'd went wild and had even savaged the girl when she'd tried to comfort it. The dumb bitch had been in the hospital for weeks. Giggling again, he viewed the girl on the floor, recalling what he'd done to her that morning with the newly forged needles. The shrieks had been sheer music, causing him to get excited and orgasm twice.
At the moment the cunt was kneeling on the floor, arms stretched our perfectly straight, hands resting on the floor with the fingers curled. She had to keep those arms like that because on this world knitting needles were eighteen inches long and she had one driven its entire length up through each of her arms. Were she to bend her elbows the most holy of tools would rip into the muscles and flesh of her upper arm, causing such excruciating pain that it was sure to be a worthy offering to her judge, he himself. As she wasn't of the chosen what else could she offer? It was his obligation to watch and listen, enjoying those shrieks of torture so that in him she would at least be remembered. It was what he offered those that were beneath him, a form of immortality.
Rising, the boy stood in front of the girl, ready again for her to give him pleasure. Watching the torment in her eyes he swore he would never ever abandon the holy task of the chosen again. Breathing heavily as the excitement built, he wondered how she would react if he were to kill her fetus. Would she thank him, or curse him? Another joy for another day, Kodama mused, eyes closed as the rapture overtook him.
End of Chapter
