Chương 11: Ch. 10 - Heading Home

The Exfil Porter catapulted me from the surface and past the storm cloud. My spine was glued to the seat and my face felt like it was being stretched back. My Frame rattled against the turbulence but it was still smoother than in the Gatherer. The harness pressed against my chest like a vice and breathing was in short bursts of breath through pursed lips. [EXITING CRADLE] Then, weightlessness. Pure and awe inspiring space. Peace. The harness kept me locked to my seat with an incredible view of the cosmos.

The stars looked like they were right there, just had to reach my hand out to feel the universe.

"How exciting," said the bot.

"This is my first time leaving home."

"We're not going far," I said, pulled from my trance. The thrusters came alive and a simple thought brought the menus up as I scrolled to find the radio bandwidths in the "OTHER" section of the menu. It was somewhere but buried and I was getting precariously close to the Bastille.

"Can you help me find a radio frequency? I don't want them thinking I'm some escaped dungeon mob and they have to blast me before I can come up on the scanners."

"Of course. What frequency are you attempting to hail?" It was a practiced number. Drilled into us every morning in the academy during homeroom before class even started. Each graduating class is given a different password and that too was drilled into us.

"Alpha 1: 1." A moment passed and a voice on the other end connected.

"This is Bastille Command. Password?"

"In space we will find what else was made."

"Copy. Were you a solo Delver? You shouldn't be, that appears to be a new mech. We don't have anything on it."

"No, sir. I was part of squad 1... am a part of squad 1."

"Jesus, we just got the notification. Heard half of you guys were wiped. Alright, touchdown is ready for you. Welcome home. Anyone you want notified?"

"Yeah, my mom. Her info should be in my personnel file."

"I see it. I'll notify the B-Block clinic now." The frequency handshake ended before I could thank him with a click. The thrusters were brought to near idle as landing had to be slow to avoid damaging the ship or injuring the hangar staff.

"Hey bot," I asked. My voice resonated in the silence like an intrusion. I knew immediately it was a distraction I was attempting for myself. This is the quietest it had been and everything was starting to catch up to me. The exhaustion, the death.

"Why is the Dungeon called the Cradle?"

"It is a nexus point of creation. Unfortunately, I am unable to answer more."

"Why not?" A bit more frustration than I intended slipped out.

"It's not that I don't want to. I'm just unable to. There is a block on what I'm allowed to answer. I can tell you the 'Dungeon' as you call it is very old. Older than you think." The frequency band pinged from Bastille Command.

"Sir?" I asked.

"Tell your companion on board that its access to the central terminal is denied."

"I heard," said the bot.

"I fail to see why."

"Because you're not authorized. Tell him to stop."

"Uh, stop?" I asked. I wasn't sure if it would even listen and I was too exhausted to care. Though, I had never heard of a companion trying to gain access to the terminal before.

"Very well," said the bot.

"I didn't want to learn anything that would help me acclimate to being away from home by immerssing myself into a new culture anyway. Now I can't be blamed for cultural appropriation." The line went dead as we neared the entry point. The net was ready to catch the momentum of the mech. It just required a simple maneuver to turn facing outwards. The net wrapped around the back of the mech and stretched until all forward movement had stopped. A second net wrapped the front before we descended to the air lock below.

A pop and red light filled the room for decontamination and pressurization. The decontamination seemed redundant considering I was just in the vacuum of space, but hey, above my pay grade. As soon as the air lock turned green, I took off Phil's helmet and breathed the stale recycled air of home. Phil's helmet was heavy in my hand. The loading zone was a set of scaffolding similar to a repair bay and the blue scanners got to work.

The cockpit opened in a hiss with the bot waiting just outside to position itself onto my ear.

"Excuse me," A voice from outside said. I took a deep breath and clenched my eyes. They sure didn't waste any time. It was a guy from requisitions, or tax man as he was known to us. He positioned himself just far enough away to stop me before I could leave my mech so that I could still access my inventory. His voice was haughty that annoyed me just out of principle. It was the gold jumpsuit for me that made it easy to hate these guys.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Yes?" I asked, playing dumb.

"As you are new. I must impose upon you the merits of being a model Bastille citizen. And to that end, it is no surprise that pilots such as yourself have a sacred duty of providing for the good of the colony. As such, young man, even though tragedy struck you, you are reminded that you are guaranteed but two things in this life. Death and taxes. And my boy, you are not dead. What have you procured for the last beacon of our endangered species?"

"Seeds," I said.

"Seeds... are you joking?"

"No. I got seeds for Cultivation and Life Support. Oh and pure alcohol for the clinics."

"No," he huffed.

"No? What do you mean no?"

"I said, no. That offering is unacceptable. Where are the the credit tithes? The pounds of meat for the stores. Heck, I would've accepted an adamantum crystal from the third floor. Seeds? However did you pass the Academy with that sort of initiative." My blood was boiling and my hands trembled in anger. Initiative? Says the guy whose job it is to collect something from nothing. He literally writes down what I got, ON PAPER, to be recycled. Don't use paper! Just use a tablet and stop being wasteful.

Why is our responsibility to make you happy?! My entire squad is down to just me and you have the nerve to question me about what I would give up for the colony?! Stores? He meant the reserve food for Z-Block!"

"I'll do better... next time," I said through gritted teeth.

"It was my first time Delving and my team leader died before I could learn the proper way to do things." My fists were literally shaking and I was seeing red.

"You're young. I'll look past this slight. Very well, you may keep the seeds and alcohol. Consider this a gesture of my good will. You are right to know your betters. I'll simply remove the tax to the colony today." I was about to snap when my mom pushed past the doors meant to keep her out. She was running full tilt and all the anger disappeared as I jumped down to be tackled, hitting accept on the transfer.

"Mijo!" she wept on my tattered jumpsuit and held me like was going to melt if she let go. She almost knocked me off my feet.

"Hey, Mom," I said.

"It was a lot..." Somehow, all the agony at seeing Jacob and Eric die bubbled up. All the compartmentalization I had been subconsciously doing, it slipped away. She was about to lose me too. Just like Dad. I wept in quiet sobs she couldn't see, but there was no way she didn't know.

"Stefano," said the bot.

"Why are you leaking? Are you malfunctioning?"

"No," I said in between huffs.

"I'm not malfunctioning. Mom, can you please name it. I can't keep calling it bot. It's too snarky for me to keep calling it that. And my Frame? Also, the food was incredible. I was scared I wouldn't be able to tell you that."

"Ma'am," the tax man interrupted.

"I believe I was consorting with the pilot. These displays are meant to be private."

"Shove it!" yelled my mom.

"Excuse me!?"

"You heard me, gold suit. You didn't like what he risked his life over because it wasn't immediately beneficial to your friends 'X,' 'Y,' or 'Z' Block. Because it benefited the rest of us."

"You have some nerve! What's your identifier? I'm filing a formal complaint with your superior!"

"Casandra Reyes!" she got to his face and he took a step back.

"I'm the charge nurse of B-Block. I am the manager. Any other questions or are you going to waste my time as well." He lifted his chin in disgust and wrote something down. Mom pulled me away with the bot reforming to ball size to make a face to stick a tongue out.

"Why did you do that?" I whispered to whomever responded first.

"It seemed appropriate," said the bot.

"Yeah, screw that guy. Come on, Mijo. Let's go, you're probably hungry. You can deliver the seeds later." The tears that flowed from her face had stopped streaming to a half smile.

"Get out of the way! Pilot coming through!" I lowered my head in embarrassment, covering my face as the ones going about their day stopped to notice. The bot the entire trek back was making "ooo" and "aahh" sounds as he took in the interior of the Bastille. Its disappointment was immeasurable and its day was ruined when we stepped into my home.

"Where is the rest of your abode?" asked the bot.

"This is it," said mom, proudly. Aqua meowed from the reheater. How mom made incredible meals on that thing I'd never know. It resembeled a microwave from Earth, but it was sealed to ensure no heat exited the containment unit. The last purchase my dad made with my mom.

"Is there no personal space?" asked the bot.

"No. That's dungeon stuff." I turned to my mom who was smiling ear to ear.

"See what I mean. It's so snarky it hurts."

"I like it. It gives you crap when I can't."

"I do appreciate being appreciated."

"So what can you do?" She tied her hair into a bun with the world's most tired hair tie.

"I merely observe and translate for young Stefano. I can make menu surfing easier and advise when he isn't choosing inferior information. My aim is to ensure Stefano stays alive."

"Oh yeah. Why is that?" The bot took a long moment to answer. Longer than I had ever heard it speak. Aqua went through my legs, it's light projection passing straight through to sit on the tiny table where I was about to have dinner.

"My sentience is tied to Stefano being alive. If he perishes, I cease to think. It's a symbiotic relationship."

"That's nice," she was cutting some ingredients and putting it all together. It already smelled incredible. This was the first time I could take my jumpsuit off and the look I had in the mirror was hardly recognizable. I thought of my classmates. Of Ania. I wondered if she struggled as much on her first trip. Probably not. As infuriating as it was to admit, she was better than me. Top of the class in everything and I only beat her in a sim duel once. One out of thirteen total.

The decon unit did it's work effectively and washed the grime away faster than a shower. A simple shirt and shorts for dinner seemed right.

"Mijo!" yelled Mom.

"Dinner is ready." I devoured it. I didn't stop to think. It was just gone.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, gulping down water.

"I'm glad you liked it. I do have a name for your bot. After talking and giving him access to some of Earth's history, we figured out a good name for it."

"Mom! He was denied access!" I yelled.

"It's fine. It was only the history part. I think a good name for him is..." The bot drum roll like he was announcing an achievement.

"Caddie."

"Caddie? Is that a name for something?"

"Well, he carries your stuff. He gives you advice and talks smack. I think it's a perfect name."

"I concur," said Caddie.

"Named after a position in a sport known as golf, it is the most perfect of names."

"You said Earth and I lost interest," I said.

"And what about my Frame? Everyone has one."

"How about... hmm... Aegis? Your mech would take me a while to come up with something good." A knock on the door had my mom jumping to her feet. It was someone from work. They spoke whispers before she closed the door and came back in. Probably a patient or something.

"Mijo, I have to go to work. I might be late. Why not head to bed. I'll be home hopefully before you wake up." She was right, it all came at once and the bed looked inviting. She kissed my forehead and stepped with purpose. I didn't bother with anything else, I just knocked out.