Iron Empire

Forty-Six: Abomination

I whistled, temporarily forgetting my desire to stay silent as I gazed up at the massive mech that stood before me. The dim light of my makeshift flashlight failed to do its size justice.

The Spartan. Where was it from?

"There's an old mech in here," I whispered, speaking quietly once more.

"What?" Lucas coughed. "It can't be. Axion wouldn't just leave a mech lying around." He paused. "What is it, a Goliath?"

"I've never seen it before," I responded, "but the designation calls it Spartan."

Lucas' voice grew faint as he leaned away from the comm set.

"Does the name Spartan ring any bells, Dan?"

I didn't hear Dan's response, but Lucas confirmed it. According to Dan, he'd never heard of a prototype named Spartan during his time working for Axion.

For all we knew, it wasn't supposed to exist.

I gazed up at the enigma of mech, squinting to see its top.

"Its construction doesn't look American," I mused, gazing up and down the blue-tinted body. "It also doesn't resemble anything used by the European or German factions. It lacks the standard green Russian paint job."

I realized something.

"If anything it looks like the Exodus."

Why had they left a mech here? Had my father known about this?

Something flashed in the darkness. I spun my head, shining the flashlight into the void.

"Hang on," I hissed, "I think I found something."

Emboldened by my new discovery, I wandered forward past the Spartan, picking my way past objects I now identified as maintenance tools and power cables. These thick, black cables ran from the Spartan's iron foot and into the darkness.

A small light flashed again, beckoning me forward. At last, my light bounced off a wall, reaching an end to the massive room. Attached to the power cables was an old computer, screen caked in dust. A light on the monitor flashed faintly, once every few seconds.

Curious, I reached forward to touch the screen, but noticed something. Though the computer was certainly old, as old as the base, parts of its screen were clean, free from the dust that caked the rest of the model.

Someone else had been here and recently.

Very recently.

"I don't think I'm alone here," I announced, panic rising. "One of the touchscreen computers is still operational."

My finger hovered a centimetre away from the screen.

"Leave it alone," Lucas commanded, "we don't have time to—"

I didn't realize I'd touched the screen until seconds after my finger made contact. The light from the computer blinded me.

The screen flashed a message.

Sleep mode disengaged.

Solar power reserves at 42%.

Hangar doors unlocked, mechanism active.

Last session was not completed before hibernation.

Restore previous session?

Y/N

Out of morbid curiosity, I tapped yes.

Something hummed, a deep and powerful noise. My hair stood on end. The entire hangar exploded into light, illuminating the floor, the walls, myself, the Spartan and rows upon rows of old computers, just like the one I stood at.