Siren's Elegy Volume 1: Orphans of Ashen Earth

Chapter 32: Synchronicity

August 12, 4021 12:37 [Lahab Mutajamid Desert]

The ancient machine kicked up plumes of sand as it ambled across the desert, taking one sluggish step after another. Tiny desert creatures skittered across the dunes to escape the path of the mechanical behemoth. Its black frame traced a path marked by poles erected in the sand, pacing towards the outline of a city in the distance.

"Move damn it!" Mirai exclaimed, pushing the peripheral control sticks forward.

He furrowed his brow, as sweat dripped down his neck. The young Lancer pilot struggled to maintain concentration, a vein bulging on his forehead from the strain. He groaned in frustration, pressing a series of contextual buttons. The digital display streaming feedback of his environment switched off as the control capsule partially ejected from the Lancer. A fissure of compressed air released as the capsule opened up, allowing Mirai to step outside. He removed a cord attached to his spine, sending a jolt of pain throughout his nervous system. I'll never get used to that.

Sighing, he hooked a grappling cord from his waist to a railing, scaling the Lancer to reach the top of its head, promptly slumping over, exhausted. Sunlight bounced off his visor as he stared at the sky. The arid heat did nothing for his mood, though his DIVE Suit kept his temperature regulated. He pulled his helmet off, setting it to the side as he lay down panting. He lifted a flap on his wrist, checking his Nerve Cord. Shit. It was midday already. Mirai clicked his tongue as he sat up, his cape flapping lightly in the wind; it was split in two, shaped like the fins of a fish. The fabric was sewn with photovoltaic cells to catch the sunlight overhead and convert it into electricity.

A small drone popped out of a compartment on his shoulder, circling around him before floating higher to get a better vantage of the dunes. It scanned the perimeter, beeping noisily before zipping back down to him. A digital face appeared on its display, smiling enthusiastically.

"Hiya, Mr. Kitahara! Boy, it sure is hot today!"

Mirai rolled his eyes at the AI's painfully upbeat attitude. It was quite obvious who programmed it.

"Aiko, contact Hart and tell him to pick me up."

"No can do!" she said cheerily. "Mr. Hart's instructions explicitly forbade any form of contact. You were to be dropped in the middle of the desert and make your way back with your assigned Lancer."

"The city is right there!" Mirai pointed to the silhouette on the horizon. "It can't be more than a few kilometers out now!"

"Correct! It is exactly [4.98897] kilometers away from our current location!"

Mirai put a hand to his face, resisting the urge to electrocute the little drone. It wouldn't get rid of the AI, since it would simply transfer into his helmet, then into his Nerve Cord if he destroyed that as well. Groaning, he picked himself up, lifting his helmet off of the surface of the Lancer.

"What are my synchronization levels?" he asked.

"Thirty percent!" Aiko responded.

Mirai shook his head rappelling down the neck of the Lancer. He slid towards the Pilot's Capsule embedded in the nape of its neck. Hanging just outside the capsule's opening, he stared down at the white rings on the machine's back. He would need to increase his synchronization rate to unlock this mechanical giant's secrets. Hart was of no help, shrugging when he had asked him for guidance. Mirai had a suspicion he was intentionally withholding information. But what was the point? What good would it do him to hide critical information like this? He scowled, docking the capsule once again. Mirai switched on the display, placing his helmet over his head once again. He reattached the cord to his spine, grimacing as another jolt of pain ran through his body. He would have to brute force this advanced fossil to make his way back to Khar Khot. He strained his mind, pushing the peripheral control sticks forward. The machine lifted a leg forward and set it down heavily, dispersing a cloud of sand. One foot at a time. I'll make it there...eventually.