Alive
By: Aviantei
22 mph
My next several outings out with Alexander turn into more simulation runs, and I have zero complaints about that. I couldn't stick with anything permanently before it turned into a blurry gray mess, but plenty extreme sports and the like required several months of practice before you could get into anything good, so I knows how to dedicate myself to the basics without complaint. Besides, my control has so many areas to improve on that each little accomplishment adds to my excitement and paints the world in brilliant colors that, while not always there, grace my vision from anywhere between one to two days past a simulator session.
The better I get, the more excitement and adrenaline I can experience. Paired with regular meals and chats with Alexander, it's a wonderful balance between the high energy exploits I craved and the mundane moments I'd come to treasure. What more could I want?
Don't get too spoiled, I remind myself, the memory of waking up to eternal gray still stinging my heart. Even Alexander got bored enough by this. You might end up the same way.
But I can't shake the feeling that Alexander won't let that happen to me.
He won't let me experience the same disillusionment that he did.
How lucky can I possibly be?
I'll take it.
It doesn't take me long before I recognize that we're not taking the same route to the Team Velshtein building as usual, and I sit up a bit straighter in Alexander's passenger seat, as if looking around the streets will let me know what's going on inside Alexander's head. "Detour?" I ask.
"Something like that." Though he's putting in an admirable effort, Alexander can't keep he excitement fully out of his voice or off his face. I'm the one who doesn't get the inside joke. "I got a special offer to do some test runs for the company that manufacturers our mechs, and I thought you'd be interested in seeing this."
I can't even be mad that he's being a workaholic since he does seem to be genuinely thinking of how I'd enjoy the results. "And what is exactly is 'this—'" air quotes for emphasis "—supposed to be?"
"Well, you know how it's possible for pilots to pair up with certain animals to have as copilots, right?"
I nod. "It's something like sharing brainwaves, right?" From hazy memories with Nate, I think I understand the basics of it—like, the basics of basics, really. He's always been more interested in the bigger picture mechanic issues, but that doesn't stop him from enjoying learning about the other tech advancements involved. "Wait, don't tell me you're getting an animal partner. It's gotta be a dog, right? I can't imagine you with a cat."
Alexander shakes his head, looking amused. "Everyone says that, but I really am more of a cat person." I try to picture it, but it just doesn't come together in my head. Realizing that we're getting off topic, Alexander refocuses. "But, no, I'm not getting an animal partner. I don't have the compatibility for it, and even if I did, Dew's allergic to pet fur anyways."
Ah, poor guy. Caleb has the same problem. Not that it helps me understand the slightest bit of what Alexander's planning. "Okay, you're not getting an animal copilot. Why are we talking about this again, then?"
"Because they're working on tech that makes copiloting possible for two people."
It takes me far longer than it should to realize what he's talking about, and when I do, a shocked "Ehhh?" spills out of my mouth. "You're shitting me, right? I didn't even know they were working on stuff like this." I mean, sure, I don't have a lot of reason to know since I don't keep up with it, but I feel like Nate would know if something like that would be going on. "Are they gonna update the league rules to let pilot teams in, or is it gonna be its own bracket, like there are with other sports? I mean, even if they're smart to assist in the cockpit, an animal is one thing, but I feel like having two humans would be unfair."
Alexander takes the moment as we stop at an intersection to send me a cheeky grin. "Look at you, taking an interest in my line of work. Keep that up and Jan and Dew will believe that cover story about you being a big fan no problem."
I scoff, reining in my big, rambling mouth. "I care because Nate's gonna care, and I'm a good sister who encourages her baby bros' hobbies and interests." Thankfully, the light turns to green, and then Alexander's back to his whole safe driving schtick, so I'm spared from him watching me. "Is bringing the guys up your subtle way of telling me they'll be here, too? I'm guessing you're doing some sort of test runs? Even the mighty and powerful Cunningham Hume can't handle a two-pilot mech on his own."
"Yeah, the guys will be there," Alexander says, his words almost humming between his lips, "but the plan isn't for me to copilot with one of them."
I stare at myself in the mirror for several long minutes, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. At first glance, I look the same as ever, though the shaved side of my head's getting long enough to need a touchup before I head home for Nate's birthday. I have bigger problems than needing a haircut, though.
I'm in a mech suit. Not the high-tech tracksuit testing getup, but an honest to god mech suit, with the cushioning and armor and readouts and everything. There's no way this thing is a borrowed piece of equipment, because it fits me like a damn glove, hugging my skin underneath without looking overly sexy thanks to all the attachments. I don't know how I feel about the implication that Alexander figured out my size enough to get this made, or that it means I'm probably gonna end up in a real mech and not a stupid simulator. It's enough to make my stomach crawl from the almost foreign feeling of anxiety.
Except I can tell that the mech suit is that vibrant Velshtein red, my full blast color vision telling me how I really feel about what's going to happen. That's just like my body, to betray me when I should feel something else—indignation, maybe?
I try to click my tongue, but the smile on my face kind of ruins the effect. Knowing that I'm better off getting started instead of overthinking, I pivot to the locker room's exit and head out the door.
Team Velshtein is waiting for me, all suited up and ready to roll. It's no surprise that they finished getting ready before me, since they're the pros and it's a damn miracle I figured all the attachments on the getup on my own. Though I recognize Jan and Dew's faces, they almost seem like distant celebrities when they're ready. Even Alexander looks different in the form fitting mech suit, a far cry from his usual baggy ensemble.
Dew nods his approval. "You were right, Cunningham. You wouldn't be able to guess she's a rookie if we didn't know better." He adds a thumbs up. "You like you're ready to race anytime."
As if my face isn't already burning enough, Alexander asks, "Everything fit okay?" like the fact that he had this suit waiting for me isn't weird at all.
I narrow my eyes at him. "I don't recall giving the information you need to buy me clothes, Alexander."
"Well, I wouldn't have been able to make this a surprise if I asked you up front, so I went and chatted with a mutual acquaintance of ours instead." There's only one person that could ever mean. Damn him for mentioning Mariya in front of his teammates where I can't call him out on it, and damn her for chatting with Alexander behind my back. Brat never wants to talk with people or make friends unless it gives her the upper hand.
It'll be worth it when I get to step in the mech, I try to tell myself. Getting to ride in an actual mech will be so fucking worth it, so just hang on Kirsten! I hate that Alexander was probably counting on that reaction to get away with this, but he's right—
I'm sure as hell not about to stir up trouble when the ultimate adrenaline rush is so fucking close.
"If we're all ready, we should get going before the engineering folks start to get antsy," Jan says, giving a rational place for me to redirect my energy. He smiles at me, the wariness from when we went out to drink gone. "You ever seen a mech up close before?"
Yeah, sorry, can't give you the honest answer to that one. "Not unless you count the simulators and pics of stuff online. Nate's talked my ear off about the things, though, so it'll be cool to see what it's like." Too bad mech suits don't have much in the way of pockets; bet if I snapped a selfie of me from the cockpit and sent it to Nate, he'd have a conniption.
"Damn," Dew says, "you're in for a treat, Kirsten."
And not doubting it for a second, I fall into the guys' easy chatter, out suited footsteps echoing against the walls and following us down the hallway.
Given that I've only driven a simulator for roughly a week, it's no wonder that I'm stuck on the sidelines for most of the session.
Part of that is because the research team in charge of this new piloting system has needed to run a handful of physicals on me. Stuff like collecting my weight, my general health, reaction times, etc. While Alexander and the boys already have that info ready to go because of their extensive piloting experience and strict team regimens (Sir Hamgra's anal tendencies strike again!), I've never come close to any of that. So medical assessments here we go.
Thankfully it's not a total wash, since the mech suits have a lot of sensors in them that can apparently get a decent read on most of my vital statistics without a live person so much as looking at me—scary and cool at the same time. The more pilot specific stuff like my solo skill levels take place in a simulator not unlike the one at Velshtein's base of operations, and the research folk combine that performance with the data automatically gathered from my training systems. Based on what they're saying, they'll use my standard solo info as a baseline to compare when I actually get in a mech as a test pilot for the dual cockpit system.
I don't hear too much of the technical details. I'm too busy staring down the mechs and test runs.
Unlike Velshtein's sleek white and green models, the test dual cockpit is plain, unfinished metal with no need for decoration. I wouldn't say I'm an expert, but it looks wider, too, and the overall design is less tricked out than top of the line and it seems more like the generic models used by IG-3 teams who are just starting out and don't have the budget for customization.
Based on what the guys are saying though, all the inside parts are quality, so I suppose that's what matters most. Between my own tests, I watch the Velshtein boys trade out in pairs as they adjust to the new piloting system. I guess after having the controls to yourself for so long, it's a bit of an adjustment to share with someone else. Jan and Dew wobble a bit on their first go around, almost making the mech trip before they go all-out on the track. Alexander, however, is still a damn genius, and whenever he's in the cockpit he manages to move the mech as smooth as his own, even with someone else piloting with him.
What a show-off.
Though I'm not in the cockpit, the close proximity to a real mech plus my own successful simulation runs (I set a new speed record) have me adrenaline buzzing and happy, and I smile idly as I watch the footage of Alexander and Dew's latest lap around the track, the research team's excited jargon flying right over my head.
"Very nice work," one of the researchers says into the intercom mic. "We'd like to collect some other types of data, but we can wrap things up for the day if you want to dock the mech.
"Man, is it time already?" Dew asks, and I can hear his voice over the speakers. "I swear, the hours fly away from you when you're resting." Watching along with me, Jan nods at the same time I do, bobbing our heads in agreement.
"I can feel that," Alexander says, and I recognize the spark of excitement in his voice, clear as day. It's nice, enjoying life with people you like close by. "Oh, but would you guys mind if we did one more quick round? I think Kirsten should give this a shot."
[Author's Notes]
Get in the fucking robot, Kirsten.
Plot events I've been vaguely referencing to in the past author's notes are happening next week, folks, get ready and please look forward to it!
-Avi
[09.30.2019]
