CHAPTER TWO
They met her at a simple chain-link fence that seemed to run around the perimeter of the town.
Given that her Titan could have walked across it without breaking his stride, she assumed it must mark the boundary of the settlement, or keep out the local predators, rather than act as a serious defensive barrier.
Vladimir Sokoloff was not quite the intimidating presence that Pérez had expected. Rather than the muscular, bearded Russian bear that his deep radio voice had projected, the Foreman was a bespectacled, older-looking man whose slight frame was almost lost within the grubby, over-sized trench coat he wore.
The man with him however was either every bit as intimidating as he appeared, or trying very, very hard to seem that way.
He was dressed in a cleaned and pressed jacket, with 'SECURITY' emblazoned in large yellow letters across the chest accompanied by a similarly clean and gleaming badge. At his hip he wore a black leather-like belt and holster, holding a transparent handgun.
The expression on his weather-worn face, and his aggressive body language gave the impression of a man in authority, and who demanded respect. He was likely accustomed to receiving it too, although whether he deserved it, or simply tried to bully others around, remained to be seen.
She presumed it was this one was the one with the French accent, which was quickly confirmed as he raised his flashlight beam to shine at her helmeted face - apparently attempting to dazzle her.
"Take the helmet off," he said, his voice pitched in at a low and commanding tone. "Take it off now, or you don't come in."
A bully then, she thought with a sigh.
Pérez had dealt with bullies before; even ones wearing security garb - mostly wearing it, in fact. They seemed to think a shiny badge and the rule of law gave them dominion over all lesser mortals. As if those same laws didn't apply to them.
Pérez wasn't overly impressed with that mindset, and she knew the best way to defuse it.
She turned towards Sokoloff.
"Thanks for agreeing to provide me with fuel, Foreman," she said, inclining her head slightly to acknowledge him. "We'd not have gotten much further without it."
The Russian reached up to scratch at the frosting of white stubble on his chin; Pérez had the satisfaction of seeing the face of the Frenchman purple angrily at being ignored.
"Chief Dubois seems to think you will cause us trouble, Pilot," he said. "I'm inclined to agree with him, but I also think denying you would cause us more."
"It probably would have," she admitted; lying to this man wasn't going to get her anything, especially when they both knew she could have walked in riding Cee-Ay and taken anything she wanted. "That's not to say that I don't appreciate the gesture."
The Frenchman - Dubois - grunted; a sound of irritated amusement. Pérez elected to continue ignoring him, as - curiously - did Sokoloff.
"As I said before, at least you're honest," he nodded as he spoke, a curiously bird-like bobbing of his head. "I will be equally honest in saying that I would like to get this transaction completed as quickly as possible."
Pérez nodded.
"I agree, the sooner I'm gone from here the better - for me, and for you."
"Are you threatening us?" Dubois said, suddenly. Pérez spared him a brief glance; before turning her head away with such an exaggerated motion that her disdain would be clear even with her helmet on.
"No, I'm not," she said, turning to address the Foreman once again. "But there is a real threat all the same."
She jerked a thumb back towards the mountains behind her.
"We've been evading IMC pursuit for several days now, the sooner we can move on the less likely they are to bother you."
"This is my hope as well, Pilot," Sokoloff said, nodding once more. He raised an arm, pointing along the perimeter fence. "Head that way, about twenty minutes' walk, and you'll come to a small gate…"
"With all due respect, Foreman," Pérez said, taking a step back and gauging the height of the fence. "That won't be necessary."
She ducked downward for a moment, bending her knees before she pushed sharply upwards with her legs, using her neural link to fire the small jump-jets built into the mounted pack on her armour. The jets flared for a moment in the darkness, lending her leap considerable upward momentum for their size.
She cleared the fence easily, and landed before the two men, dropping down to one knee to help absorb the impact.
Dubois had taken a long step back as she had lifted into the air, his hands were halfway to unbuttoning the holster of his sidearm by the time she landed. He froze as Pérez stood; the dim blue light from her helmet visor reflected in his wide and angry eyes as she raised her head.
"If I'd wanted to hurt you," she said, calmly. "Then you'd already be hurt."
"I find it hard to trust the intentions of a cyborg," he said, his eyes narrowing in distrust of her.
She sighed again.
It wasn't uncommon for people to think of Pilots as super-human; or perhaps inhuman.
Her skills certainly put her on a different playing field to most people - the Militia soldiers she fought alongside were often left in the dust, even when she wasn't riding her Titan. Her reflexes, spatial awareness, reaction speeds, endurance and stamina, all set her - and other Pilots - apart in ways some people couldn't comprehend.
It was no wonder they were sometimes feared by the very people they were working to protect.
She reached up with both hands to the catches on either side of the helmet's neck seal and quickly undid them; the visor shifted up, and the collar-lock released with a brief hiss as her air-filters cleared.
She lifted the helmet from her head and shook out her hair. She breathed in the night air, wrinkling her nose at the unique alien scents and odours of this world, as well as the more familiar smells she could associate with humans - from Dubois it was nicotine, polish, and cheap cologne.
Sokoloff, she noted, didn't smell even half as badly as his dishevelled appearance might suggest.
She wished she could say the same of herself; nearly seven days in a cramped Titan, and then an afternoon of hiking through the mountains in her Pilot gear had not been kind to her. Her shoulder-length hair was matted and greasy after being kept confined within the helmet too, clinging to her forehead and the sides of her face as she tried to shake it out.
And, frankly, she stank.
All in all, she realised as the light breeze touched her face, she would happily kill everyone in this settlement for a Titan battery and a hot shower.
She lowered the helmet and clipped it to her chest by the carabiner there. Then she raised her eyes to look at Dubois - human to human.
"There, see? I'm flesh and blood like you," she said, her tone level. "Not much to be afraid of without the helmet."
It was a barefaced lie to say that. But a harmless one so far as she was concerned, since she truly meant them no harm.
Dubois appeared to consider his position; the Foreman of the facility watching him closely, and a non-hostile woman standing before him whilst he was frozen in the action of reaching for his gun.
Eventually he grunted, and moved his hands away from his holster.
"You come into my facility, you do it unarmed" he said, visibly rallying from his discomfort, but losing none of his arrogance for it. "Hand over that weapon."
She lowered her gaze to the handgun strapped to her own hip for a few moments, then looked over at Sokoloff.
"I'm probably just as dangerous to you unarmed as armed," she said. She turned her attention back towards Dubois. "And if this 'guest' you want me to take away is problematic, I'd rather have it on me."
Dubois' face worked the problem over and Pérez smiled inwardly at the dilemma she presented; on the one hand, he was chief of security and therefore used to getting his own way, except - perhaps - with Sokoloff. She doubted he would let this challenge to his authority stand.
Yet on the other hand, he didn't want to force his hand and see her prove she was as quick and strong as Pilots were rumoured to be. Or at least quick and strong enough to overpower him.
Either way, he stood to lose face.
This was how Pérez dealt with bullies, backing them into a corner of their own making, and then watching them squirm. In her experience, this was about the point they either snapped, or tried to wriggle out of a direct confrontation.
Dubois finally turned to Sokoloff and Pérez did her best not to snort in amusement.
"I can't have an armed, potentially hostile presence wandering your facility!" he said. "If you want to maintain the operational security of your projects -"
"Thank you for your vote of confidence in my authority, Chief, but I believe the Pilot will be unlikely to hand over her weapon simply because I ask her nicely."
The Russian turned to regard Pérez, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"But I would have your word, Pilot, that you will cause no trouble during your stay here."
She nodded.
"You have it."
"There, you see Fabrice," he said, turning to the security chief with a smile. "Some manners and a little trust is all that's needed."
He looked once more towards Pérez.
"If you'll follow me then, we shall get your U-232 battery, and introduce you to your new companion."
"I can't wait," Pérez said, dryly. "Let me just let my Titan know what's going on."
She took the helmet from its hanging position and placed it back on her head.
After taking a moment longer to prevent the helmet speakers from relaying her voice, she spoke:
"Cee-Ay?"
"I AM HERE, PILOT PÉREZ."
"I'm going to assume you caught all of that?"
"AFFIRMATIVE."
"Good, I'm going to have my helmet off - seems to make the local policía a little jumpy."
"I WILL UTILISE YOUR HELMET LIGHTS TO ATTRACT YOUR ATTENTION IF REQUIRED."
"Perfect. Stay safe and try to limit your power usage. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"I WILL. YOU STAY SAFE AS WELL, EMILIA."
"No promises," she said, smiling at the Titan's rare use of her given name as she removed and then stowed the helmet once more.
With a smile she turned to her escorts.
"Well, gentleman. Shall we?"
They had shown her into a small four-wheeled buggy and driven quickly through the outskirts of the town - the few scattered homesteads and farmlands that made up the patchwork she and Cee-Ay had viewed surrounding the settlement.
There were no lights in these buildings, despite their homely appearance.
While Dubois appeared surly and uncommunicative as he drove the buggy, Sokoloff seemed quite content to balance that out, commenting on just about everything they passed; remarking on re-purposed factory equipment that had been turned to farming, or how ingenuity was the most valued commodity in Tagata Point - as she learnt the place was called.
It seemed the 'settlement' was founded 'officially' after the war between the IMC and the Frontier worlds had begun.
Before then, they were a small frontier operation, mining and processing the uranium underneath where the main factory-facility had been located. There had been no farms, no permanent housing to speak of - the staff had originally been rotated in and out on a regular basis and returning to Earth, or another of the Core Systems.
But after the war began, the facility was apparently forgotten by whatever company had originally owned it. Calls for assistance went unheard, or ignored, and the few hundred staff who remained - mostly factory workers, some security, and the administration staff - were left to fend for themselves.
Uranium Extraction and Processing Facility One-Nine-Five-Four had needed to adapt to survive.
They had begun by trying to locate and store all of their surplus food, before taking to the mountains to try and locate and hunt game to supplement and eventually replace it. After scraping by for the better part of a year, they had finally received a response from a cargo ship that had been passing through the system.
The Captain of the ship - a freebooter who sold his supplies to both sides in the conflict - was overjoyed to find a regular supply of processed uranium-232, and more than happy to begin an arrangement with the township to keep them supplied with pretty much whatever they needed in exchange for more of it.
The arrangement had continued for several years, to the mutual profit of both the freebooter and the growing town, until they had become almost completely self-sufficient.
Now, having established an independent lifestyle, Tagata Point was keen to remain out of the long-standing conflict that threatened the rest of the Frontier.
Pérez listened with half an ear, appreciating the difficulties that the town had faced, but also keen to return to that conflict. The longer she and Cee-Ay remained stuck on this planet, the more of her friends and family fought and died protecting all the worlds of the Frontier.
The plight of a colony that refused to get involved - hoping the troubles would pass them by if they continued to bury their heads in the sand - wasn't of much interest to her.
Eventually, they came to the entrance of the largest building, which Sokoloff proudly proclaimed to be the Processing Facility itself.
It was no more or less impressive to Pérez than any other factory-complex she'd seen - a mess of exterior pipes and cooling stacks, all of which was even less impressive in the dark.
She made appropriately appreciative noises all the same. The Russian was obviously proud of what they had accomplished, and she had no intention of seeming anything other than an enraptured guest until she had her battery.
Attached to the front face of the facility was a glass-fronted reception area, and it was to this that they were stopped.
Dubois dismounted the buggy and pushed his way through the double-doors and into the foyer without a backwards glance, but Sokoloff stopped to catch and hold one open for Pérez. Despite herself, she found herself smiling at the man as she walked past.
As she had noted from the outside, the reception seemed well-kept. Considering what Sokoloff had said about them having to salvage materials for constructing the rest of the town, there was plush, leather seating, potted plants from the local area, and the entire room was well lit.
Dubois crossed the room at a brisk pace, approaching a large security door and coming to rest at the card-scanner built into its frame. As the rest of the town, this reception hall appeared deserted; she presumed the rest of the town was within the large facility.
The facility which lay behind the heavy-looking, almost-certainly-too-small-for-her-Titan security doors towards which she was now being led.
She stopped a short distance from the doors; Sokoloff nearly bumping into her as she came to a halt.
"Pilot, is somethin-"
"I think I'd like to know a little more about what I'm walking into, Foreman," she said, turning to face the man, but keeping Dubois in her peripheral vision. "And I think I would like to know before we go any further."
Sokoloff hesitated, looking past Pérez at Dubois. At the edges of her sight she saw the Frenchman shake his head minutely.
"I really am going to have to insist," Pérez said, dropping her left hand to her holstered sidearm.
She saw Dubois react to this movement by trying to draw his own sidearm. In the heartbeat it took for him to react, however, Pérez had already drawn her pistol. Whipping it from her holster, she took a step back - out of Sokoloff's reach - and aimed the muzzle of her weapon at Dubois.
Dubois froze, his hands stopped in the action of unfastening the restraint on the handle of his own weapon. Slowly, and with great reluctance, he raised his hands above his head.
Satisfied that she had control of the situation - at least for the moment - she manoeuvred herself behind Sokoloff, allowing her to keep both people in sight as she spoke.
"So, how many of your security forces are behind that door?"
She watched as Dubois' face screwed up in irritation and knew she'd scored a hit.
"Enough," he said, looking like making such an admission pained him.
"I doubt that," Pérez said, smiling. "But we'll assume you thought so, at least."
She turned her attention to Sokoloff, whose face appeared utterly drained of blood.
"And I suppose this 'guest' of yours was a fiction? To lure me into the facility for you to capture?"
"N-no, Pilot, our guest is quite real, I assure you," Sokoloff replied. "But we had to take certain precautions, I'm sure you can understand that?"
Pérez mulled this over. Would she have done any different in their position?
She knew the damage a single Pilot could do, let alone a Titan.
But what was the one thing that could potentially hold off a Titan?
Something clicked at the back of her head. A piece falling into place.
"This guest of yours is a Pilot, aren't they?"
She could have sworn Sokoloff's face went even whiter. She continued her train of thought.
"You separated them from their Titan, like you did with me, and brought them to your facility...why?"
Pérez's mind made another connection and her eyes widened suddenly.
"And where's the other Titan?"
Sokoloff swallowed, opening his mouth to speak.
The first muffled explosion from outside the town interrupted him.
Pérez glanced down to her helmet as the lights within began blinking urgently.