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malachitegeist · 3 months ago

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Mecharcana Ch. 0 (Rough draft)

As we walked through the dimly lit hallways of the complex, Henry and Alastair in front and Melody behind, I had the distinct sensation of being escorted.

Like a criminal.

And why not? I had been singled out, hadn’t I? Called out of class and brought to this section of the colony I had no idea even existed, even if I was aware of the military recruitment arm of my school. It was half of the reason why any young adult would attend Morningrise Academy, a chance at glory and fame joining the United Colonies Armed Forces. I had seen the posters. The other half being that it was the best goddamn school on the colony.

At least that’s what Dad used to say in his gruff baritone.

Not that my parents hadn’t been amenable to the idea of military service. Just that morning, Mom and I had been talking over breakfast.

“I’m nervous about that test they had us take in the first week of this semester,” I said through a mouthful of toast. Morningrise had dormitories, but not many students used them. Our colony was an O’Neill cylinder, and when you could follow the curvature of the interior with your eyes and see your school campus on the opposite side of the cylinder, it didn’t feel like living at the dorms was a necessity. If commuting saved you money, you commuted. Sometimes from my room I liked to look through a pair of binoculars at the campus. It gave me a little vertigo, looking “down” at the campus from my perspective. Scary, but thrilling.

“Why is that, Vi?” my Mom responded from the opposite side of the table, her voice sweet and melodious.

“Mah-om,” I said in a sing-songy pleading sort of way, “Vi is what you called me when I was a baby. I’m an adult now, Vivian is fine.”

She huffed, “but you’ll always be my baby!”

Her eyes sparkled, but I didn’t want to rise to the bait. “Whatever, it was just weird,” I took a sip of orange juice, “They hooked us up to these headset things and made us do hard math problems. I think they were measuring our brainwaves or something?” I lifted my hands to head height and wiggled my fingers, miming the brainwaves that were totally, actually in the room with us right now. Mom snorted a little, her curly black hair bouncing with the motion. My own hair was also curly, but a lighter shade of brown. It had been a shockingly bright blonde when I was a baby, but over time it had darkened considerably.

“The video game part of the test was fun at least,” I continued. Mom scoffed at that. “What? I like blowing up virtual bad guys.”

“It’s all you seem to like to do.” My face reddened. “I swear, if you don’t get off of that thing every now and then you’ll never meet a nice man.”

“There are nice men at Morningrise.” I countered.

“Men,” Mom’s voice dripped with an acid I heard only rarely, “those Morningrise students are just boys, and boys only want one thing.”

“Mom!” my face was fully flush now.

Her face was set in a victorious expression. “Vi, honey,” I rolled my eyes at the insistence on the short form of my name, “the last thing you need is for some hopped up kid your age getting you pregnant. Especially before you graduate or get picked up for military service.” I stuck my tongue out and crinkled my forehead. “Don't discount military service, young lady! I know you don't want to fight other people but we are at war with the Earth, and any UC citizen would be proud to serve the colonies.” She leaned back a little in her chair, clearly satisfied in advance of her upcoming point, “Besides, there's plenty of non-combat roles! You could work in computing, or maintenance,” she lit up as a thought occurred to her, “or music! The UCAF has a band after all!”

I wanted so badly to find the right words, but my thoughts were too chaotic to be coherent. Conversational moves and countermoves raced through my mind. If I tell her I’m having enough trouble with the piano she’ll tell me to stop playing video games so much and practice. As if that would help. I was practically conscripted into accompanying the school choir and the director usually gives me the music the day of. If I tell her the thought of fighting makes my heart beat fast and my breath catch in my throat, she'll tell me to put on my big girl pants and be an adult about it. If I tell her that the thought of sex also makes my heart race, she'll tell me that's the point, but only during marriage of course. If I tell her that there’ s no one I’ve ever liked that way she’ll want to know why, and I don’t want to get into that. If I tell her that it doesn’t matter anyway because none of my classmates even seem to know what sex is she’ll say something like-

“The training simulator is just up this stairway and across the catwalk.” Henry’s slightly nasally voice jolted me out of my reverie, bringing me right back to the UCAF complex. We had emerged into a massive hangar, the opposite wall totally occupied by several 30 meter tall metallic…things covered imperfectly in enormous brown tarps. Instead of heading for one of those, we turned immediately right along the wall until, reaching the stairway Henry had mentioned, we started climbing the 10 or so flights of switchbacks.

While on the steps, I focused on what little I could glean about my…superiors? Captors?

Henry was a rail skinny young man, pale and fidgety. He probably only passed his physical because doing pull-ups is easy for him. To be fair, I was not much better. He wore glasses like I did, though his frames were square and mine larger and more circular. His hair was a short blonde, practically buzzed at the sides, with the longer tops sticking almost straight up. His uniform was a little on the sloppy side, just the tan dress shirt and pants and dark brown boots. I didn’t know all the regulations, but I was pretty sure that top shirt button was supposed to be buttoned, and that his sleeves weren’t supposed to be rolled up. The recruits’ uniforms weren’t like that in the posters, anyway. And weren’t they supposed to have a jacket?

Alastair was a stockier, older man. He wore some kind of dark green jumpsuit, though I couldn’t see the top half of it because he had unzipped it at the waist and tied the sleeves of the top around himself like a belt. A tank top that had once been white was all he was wearing on his tanned and muscular torso. Various oil and grease stains littered all of his clothes, even his boots. Mechanic, then. His hair fell down to shoulder length and was a moderately wavy deep black.

I had to crane my head around to get a good look at Melody. Her red hair was tied back in a severely tight bun that gave me a headache to even look at. Her uniform was immaculate, perfectly ironed and pressed. She had her jacket on, buttoned all the way to her neck, and the cuffs of her dress shirt poked out perfectly evenly from the sleeves. Her uniform was a monochrome white instead of Henry’s tan, and she walked with an assured and even stride that made me a little self-conscious. I felt like a baby fawn in comparison. Her face was set in a serious expression, though it softened slightly on meeting my eyes. I probably looked terrified. Guess looks don't have to be deceiving.

As we reached the top of the stairs and emerged onto the catwalk, it was Alastar’s turn to speak, “She’s just up here,” he gestured up at the last of three tarp-covered 30 meter tall bundles on this side of the hangar between the catwalk and the wall. Despite how high up we were, there was still a good 6 meters or so of bundle above us. It gave me another bit of vertigo to think of how much larger these things were than humans.

“Who is?” I asked as we started down the catwalk, feeling foolish. Alastair and Henry both laughed at this, and I furrowed my brow.

“Don't mind them,” Melody began as we passed the first bundle, “they can’t imagine something they can climb inside without gendering it female. You’ll probably take to calling it ‘him.’”

“Climb inside?” The second bundle now.

“You’ve been chosen to pilot a mobile armor,” Melody said matter-of-factly. We reached the last bundle. I took in a quick breath. I had seen the news footage of the war, I knew the two sides were doing most of their fighting with massive humanoid mecha called mobile armors, but I had never seen one up close. They looked big in the footage, but nothing prepared me for just how big they were. Scary, but thrilling. “Here, strip down and put this on,” she handed me an all white article of clothing that I hadn’t noticed she’d been carrying under her arm.

I felt my stomach drop out from under me and all of my skin break out in goosebumps. “H-here? Now?” I stammered.

“You can do it under the tarp,” Henry said, clearly finding my discomfort amusing, “Eventually you’ll have to get used to naked bodies in the military. But we promise we won’t look this time.” He held up a section of the tarp that was protruding out over the catwalk and I could see that opposite the mobile armor on the edge of the catwalk was some kind of large pod.

“Henry,” Melody said by way of a warning.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, snapping into an exaggerated parody of attention but keeping his arm outstretched to continue holding the tarp up for me. Alastair grunted a single quiet laugh and turned to lean on the catwalk railing and look out at the rest of the hangar. Now that we were high up, I followed his gaze and could see dozens of people on the opposite side performing various jobs around the mobile armors. Now that I knew what was under the tarps, I could see the metallic bits poking out for what they were: enormous metal feet, hands, weapons, etc. Sparks occasionally arced through the air as the mechanics did their jobs.

I felt like the three of them were being exceedingly patient with me, so I stammered a quick “T-thank you,” and held the clothing to my chest as I walked under Henry’s outstretched arm and got under the tarp. It was dark under the tarp once he let go, though not completely. Because the tarp was extended over the catwalk, the front part of it was raised up off the floor so a little bit of light filtered in. Anyone below the catwalk could look straight up and probably make out what I was doing as I removed my clothing.

I could see more clearly that the pod on my left had a large chair inside it surrounded by various screens, currently powered off. There were large cables running from either side of the pod along the floor to a similarly sized opening in the chest of the mobile armor on my right where they disappeared into the darkness. I peered inside but I couldn’t see very clearly. I sighed, stepped over the cables into the center of the two sets and got to work on my clothes.

First the black Morningrise hoodie, then the canvas sneakers. Socks and jeans next. Yellow camisole last. I shuddered once as I stood there in just my white bra and panties. Modest is hottest. The words from my Mom flashed through my mind, and I prayed silently that nobody on the floor would choose this moment to peer up the front of the tarp.

“Melody,” I called out as something occurred to me, “underwear too?”

I heard another laugh from Henry. That jerk.

“Yes, Vivian, you need to be completely naked under the plug suit,” she replied from outside. I sighed again. Worth a shot. Once I had slipped out of the last of my clothing, I held the plug suit out in front of me. It was a one piece full-body suit, including what looked like built in shoes. As I peered down the open zipper in the back, I could see that there was some extra padding around the crotch, and it even had built-in cups for my breasts. I guess I could have just examined the thing instead of asking about my underwear like some kind of child. I felt embarrassed as I stepped into the suit.

From the outside the suit seemed too small for my body, but as my legs slid inside and my feet nestled on the soles, the fabric stretched to hug my skin firmly but not tightly. “Wow,” I found myself saying, “this thing fits perfectly!”

“Of course it does,” came Melody’s reply, a noticeable twinge of amusement in her voice this time, “we have your measurements from your school uniform.” Oh, duh. Morningrise didn’t have a uniform that we had to wear every day, but there was a dress uniform we had to wear for special assemblies and formal events. I crossed my arms, feeling overwhelmed and thought back to earlier that day, in choir class.

“Okay, choir, we’re going to go over that section again. Altos, try to pay attention to where you are in your part. I know it doesn’t move very much but when it does move it’s your note that dramatically changes the chord so make sure you don’t miss it,” the choir director was saying. He raised one of his hands to start conducting, and after a brief moment, turned to me where I was sitting at the piano and said, “Vivian, try to hit most of your notes this time. They could really use the help.”

I felt my face heat up as I was singled out for comment, barely getting out a “yes sir,” before he started counting down to the beginning of the run. I tried to start strong but immediately panicked and lost track of both my part and the choir. I could feel my awareness pulling in, so intensely focused on the sheet music in front of me that I was barely even aware of the director’s conducting. It wouldn’t have mattered if I was anyway. Note after note passed me by as I managed a chord here, a short right hand run there, it was all I could do to hang on. Without my rhythmic support I could hear the choir falling out of sync with each other, and then came the moment of truth. As the altos finally got to change their note from D to C, my part followed them and as my finger struck the key I heard with horror as our notes clashed something fierce.

“C-sharp, C-sharp!” he shouted, waving his hands to stop us all. Sighing deeply, he turned to me, “Vivian, you need to hit the right note or else what’s the point of having a pianist?”

What’s the point of me, you mean I thought, staring down at my hands. Tears welled up in my eyes, but just as he took another breath and seemed ready to really start laying into me, I was saved by a knock on the classroom door.

“Come in!” the director said, probably a little angrier than he meant. Two smartly dressed military men entered the room. One of them cleared his throat and said, “Sorry to interrupt rehearsal, but is there a,” he glanced at a clipboard, “Vivian Ray in this class?” I flinched and ducked down in my seat. Audible murmurs raced through the choir at this. What did she do? I was sure they were all wondering.

“Ah yes, our pianist,” the director gestured towards me, “Vivian, if you would?” I wanted to die. I got up slowly, face practically on fire it was so flushed. As I walked by the piano and in front of the risers, I could feel the eyes of the choir following me. Once I had passed the risers and was about to reach the men by the door, the director called out to me, “Oh, and Vivian?” I stopped and turned, barely able to see through a blur of tears that stubbornly refused to fall. The director hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Just…practice your part for next week, ok? Do you have a piano at home?”

I started to say no but the other military man spoke before I could get anything out, “That won’t be necessary, director.”

“What for?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified, sir.” I could make out the director’s face scrunch up and then spring into an expression of understanding. “Oh!” he said, then performed a casual salute with his right hand that didn’t extend to the rest of his body. I instinctively saluted back, also just with my arm. One of the students laughed and I stared at my arm as if I had only just noticed it was mine. Bewildered, I quickly turned and followed the military men out of the classroom.

They took me all the way outside the building to an immaculately clean black sedan parked on the road outside. One of them opened the passenger side rear door for me, while the other walked around to the driver’s side and got in. I muttered a thank you that I think only I could hear, and then slid into the back seat. Once all three of us were in the car, we were off.

“What is going on?” I asked, heart pounding.

The one in the passenger seat in the front turned and looked at me. “Your test scores were good so we’re taking you in for basic training.” He smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. No way. My eyes darted around the car, as if looking for an escape. As I looked I noticed that instead of getting onto the freeway that led to my neighborhood, they were getting on a different freeway I had never been on that led deeper into the colony. I leaned over to the far window and looked up, following the colony’s curvature until I could just barely make out the apartment complex where I lived.

Well, used to live. My heart skipped a beat.

“We aren’t going to see my mom first? It’s her day off, she should be home.”

This time the two men looked at each other, the driver breaking eye contact first to look back to the road. The passenger looked back at me and said, “We find it’s easier if you don’t.”

Easier for who?

“What about my stuff? My clothes? My…” I struggled to find something, anything that would convince them to turn around.

“We provide everything, don’t you worry.”

The tears finally started falling.

“Vivian? Is everything alright?” Melody’s voice brought me back to the present.

“Yeah,” I lied, “just figuring out this zipper.”

“I can help you with that,” Melody didn’t wait for my response. As she stepped under the tarp and towards me, I sheepishly mumbled a thanks and turned around. My back! She’s looking at my bare back! Melody grabbed the zipper with one hand and the top of the collar with another and pulled straight up. My breath caught in my throat as the sensation of someone else touching the small of my back and running a zipper along my spine sent tingles all up my body to the base of my neck.

“Okay, boys, you can come on in!” Melody called out. As I turned around to face her, Henry and Alastair entered under the tarp. They both gave me a look up and down and I fought the urge to cover my body. Despite the coverage the suit provided, I didn’t feel completely decent in it. Henry had a laptop under his arm now, and he walked over to the other side of the pod and plugged one of the cables coming out of it into the laptop. Meanwhile, Alastair produced a small LED flashlight and climbed into the cockpit of the mobile armor and flipped a few heavy switches. With a loud metallic THUNK and a whirring sound that increased in pitch and volume as it continued, the mech powered up.

The mech must have been transferring some of its power to the pod, because both of their display screens booted up at roughly the same time and pace. Little lights came on all throughout both the cockpit and the pod, though now that I could see them both under their own lighting, the pod’s interior was more or less an identical copy of the cockpit. Melody guided me to the chair in the pod and sat me down in it, pulling a harness over my head and clasping it shut in its pairs that emerged from below the seat right in front of my crotch. When she had done that, she pulled her hands back and seemed about to fully back out of the pod when something about my hands caught her attention. She grabbed one and spoke to me, looking intensely at my fingertips, “You keep your nails short, but they don’t look like you bite them.” She paused, as if weighing her options. Then, “Do you like girls?”

I didn’t understand the question, “I play the piano.”

“Oh,” she let go of my hands, “sorry.” Was it my imagination, or did she sound disappointed?

Suddenly, the massive eyes of the mech lit up in a bright green and I would have jumped out of my seat if not for the harness Melody had just finished fastening. I could see camera lenses behind the eyes’ glass covering whirring into focus and as they settled in my direction I suddenly got the intense sensation of being watched. “Vivian, Zephyr. Zephyr, Vivian,” Melody said by way of introduction. His name is Zephyr. “Go on, say hi,” she continued. I meekly waved my hand wordlessly. Melody laughed to herself, “It’s beyond any of our pay grades to know exactly how sentient they are, but what we do know is, a mobile armor always chooses its pilot.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

“Out of all of your peers’ test scores, he liked yours the best.”

I gulped. The feeling of being watched only intensified.

“How are we doing, Henry?” Melody had positioned herself outside the pod on my right, and I followed her gaze to my bottom left. Henry had sat himself cross-legged on the ground in front of the pod on my left side, furiously typing away on the laptop.

“Pretty good,” he said in a way that made it sound like it could be better, “ports 22 through 74 are malfunctioning, I’m going to try to force a reset.”

“Zephyr looks pretty good from where I’m standing,” it was Alastair. His part apparently done, he had moved to standing just behind Henry, “I checked him out just this morning. Replaced a couple of filters, lubricated his joints, the works.”

“It’s these damn pods,” Henry said through gritted teeth, “designed for a different series of armors. We’re not even doing that much today!”

“What, um…are we doing?” I asked, unsure of my place in all this.

“We’re going to test your ability to neurally connect to Zephyr,” Melody responded.

“Ah,” I glanced back up at those mechanical eyes, “and what happens if I…disappoint him?”

“You won’t.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“Vivian, if Zephyr chose you then he begs to differ.”

“But what if-”

“Then we’ll clearly have made some kind of mistake and we’ll send you back to school! Don’t you want the colonies to win this war?” Melody snapped at me. I shrunk down in the seat.

The silence hung in the air for a moment until Henry broke the tension, “Yes! All ports are open and talking to each other!”

“Everything’s green?” Melody asked.

“Green across the board!”

“Wonderful,” Melody said, a little sharply. She reached above my head and took a headset off a rack, not unlike the one I had to wear during the test earlier in the semester. She placed it roughly on my head, “If this goes well there will be a surgery you’ll need to get to hardwire the connection to your mind. These headsets get close to the same level of connection but they’re not as reliable in combat situations.”

Surgery?!

She attached the velcro straps under my chin and leaned back, “How is that? Comfortable?”

I nodded, lying.

“Good, start the test.” Henry hit a key on the laptop and out of the corner of my eyes I saw lines of text flashing across the monitors inside the pod.

As the sound of cooling fans revved up, Alastair reached in and patted me once on the shoulder, “Good luck, kid.”

I managed a thanks. My heart was pounding.

Melody looked at me, and I thought I saw her face soften. She took my hand in hers, “Deep breaths, Vivian. Whatever happens, deep breaths.” I tried to slow my breathing as she set my hand back down gently. I could hear Henry furiously typing again. And then, sensation.

At first I thought it was air. Maybe some breeze from the cooling fans, or from whatever A/C was here in the complex. But it was more deliberate, purposeful. It started at my feet. A slight sensation of pressure. I thought maybe someone was touching me but when I looked, Melody had stepped aside behind Henry and all three of them were watching his laptop screen intently. The pressure continued, traveling up my ankles to my calves. I wriggled my legs a bit. That didn’t slow or ease the pressure at all. A similar feeling was also starting in my hands. I was surprised to find myself enjoying the sensation.

I glanced over at the three of them. They were still looking at the laptop. My gaze wandered as the pleasurable sensations made their way to my arms and thighs. I started to feel a little warm. Finding Zephyr’s eyes, I looked right into them and felt a rush of…fear? Excitement? Scary, but thrilling.

Suddenly my mind rang out something like Enjoy? Continue? It was less those words but more the concepts implied by them. My inner voice but the thoughts were unbidden, not my own.

“Henry,” I started, assuming the tech guy would know more about the tech, “is there supposed to be a voice in my head?” All three of them looked at me. I blushed as the sensations passed over my crotch and nipples simultaneously, and I couldn’t help but let out a small moan and arch my back as much as the harness allowed.

“Yeah,” he replied, “that’s Zephyr. You have to accept the connection. He can’t do it all on his own.”

“She,” the word burst out of me, “Zephyr wants she.” I wasn’t sure where that knowledge came from. My mind was buzzing. I could feel myself starting to sweat. I was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. What is happening to me?

“Okay, well…” Henry started.

“Let her in,” Melody interrupted him.

“What?” I gasped.

“You heard me.”

I shook my head. “Can we take the tarp off, please?” I whimpered, “It’s so hot in here.” My head was on fire. My entire body was tingling now. May I? Another concept, unbidden. More moans escaped my lips.

Melody’s eyes narrowed and she dropped her voice a few semitones, “Don’t you want to be a good girl?”

Yes.

She smiled, seeming satisfied with something on Henry’s laptop. She leaned in close, her lips inches from my ear. The sensation of her breath on my skin made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as she whispered, “Be a good girl, Vivian, and let her in.”

YES!

I am writhing, straining against the harness, gripping the seat with my hands

I am looking down at myself through mechanical eyes, I am tall and powerful

I am inside her mind it is so lonely we are so lonely yes there right there the tingles are so good

Rising rising rising rising I am dreaming of the stars and the sky and the sea, great waves of tingles and pleasure pulsing pulsing pulsing

My eyes lose focus, both biological and mechanical, everything is a blur, the pressure is building I can’t take much more

My - our - vents expel air. Our lungs are working faster now

In and out and in and out and in and out

Faster faster faster

Our throat is raw, our body tight, everything tightens up up up up up-

As the waves finally crest and then we are clenching, someone is screaming so loud so so so so loud

Everything is releasing and falling falling falling falling

We are clenching and coming down

Coming down, down

As I started to calm down the first thing I grew aware of was Henry’s voice.

“Wow, I've never seen a response that large! The ol’ gal must really like you!” Henry grinned, patting my shoulder with his right hand. I barely felt it. I was having trouble catching my breath.

“Everyone comes the first time,” Alastair's smile was smaller and much wryer, with the tone to match.

“What. The. FUCK was that?” I finally found my voice. The profanity felt foreign in my mouth. “And who was that screaming?” I managed in-between shuddering breaths. Henry and Alastair turned and looked at each other, their faces reddening slightly. Both their smiles became more like winces. I was almost pleading, “Someone was screaming, right?”

Melody's brow furrowed and her eyes met mine. “Oh, honey,” her voice had a clumsy note of kindness to it that felt more sincere for how out of practice it sounded. She put her hand on my arm, and I became dimly aware that my hands were still gipping the arms of the seat tightly. I relaxed them at her touch. I felt a rivulet of sweat run down my back. I wanted to take a shower, and then a long nap. But most of all, I wanted to be alone. I felt naked there in that chair, in spite of the plug suit on my body. My face had been flush for the entire…experience, but I felt it somehow redden even more at the way Henry and Alastair were pointedly avoiding my eyes.

I could feel wetness between my legs, though not as warm as urine or as pungent. Not caring that the three of them were there, I reached down with my hand and felt my crotch through the suit. It throbbed at my touch, and my fingers came away slightly damp. What is happening to me? Melody’s eyes darted to my hand, then to the side as if in response to my thought, then she took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. She dropped her voice to an intimate tone slightly above a whisper and asked “Was that your first orgasm?”

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