The bot operator immediately stopped arguing and went back to their place, and the match redoubled in intensity.
“Yeah, so,” Min said. “Sometimes you can sneak in a hit from the back line, and it’s not technically legal, but if you can get away with it . . .” She shrugged. “We maybe shouldn’t, since you’re both noobs.”
A tinny alarm signaled the end of the match, and what was left of the bots inside was collected by their miserable or triumphant operators. The human on the balcony had retreated, but Eva assumed she was the previously mentioned Rubin Hjerte, given the reactions. Running a tongue over her teeth, Eva considered that maybe she would prefer not to rock the boat here.
Aside from absolutely annihilating Miles Erck as much as humanly possible, of course.
“Our turn,” Min said, clapping her hands in excitement. “Let’s go!”
Pink grabbed Eva’s shoulder and they executed their usual handshake, ending in a hip-bump. “Don’t lose a limb,” Pink cautioned. “I didn’t bring any spares.”
Eva winked at her, then turned to Vakar, whose expression was hidden behind his shiny Wraith armor. “Keep an eye on things out here for me,” she told him.
“I will use both eyes and all my additional senses,” he replied, his voice lower and more gravelly from the helmet’s modulator. He handed her the briefcase, which was indeed incredibly heavy, and hugged her gently before releasing her and melting into the crowd like a ghost.
Eva proceeded to the staging area, where Min and Sue were already waiting. The crowd had quieted a bit since the end of the previous match, but were muttering about the new team taking on the champion, and wondering what was going on.
Like Min said, we’d better give them a good show, Eva thought. She opened the briefcase and pressed her hand against the control pad that activated the Protean armor.
After the eerie feeling of being subjected to a full-body scan, the pieces of metal polymer in the briefcase began to slide up Eva’s arm and settle into their appropriate locations. The directions had repeatedly warned that she was not to move during this process or risk injury, so she stood rooted to the spot with her hand in the same place.
Her nose, of course, started to itch immediately.
The larger pieces assembled themselves first: helmet, chest plate, braces, greaves, and so on. These were followed by smaller pieces that filled themselves in between the large ones, and extended at the edges to connect to each other with rigid or flexible materials as needed. Once everything was in place, an unpleasant cold filled the suit as a foam-like insulation was pumped in to plug gaps and provide additional protection from concussive damage. Eva was also wearing her spacesuit underneath, which was itself a form of cheap body armor when rigid, but wasn’t an extremely useful defense against things like dismemberment.
Also, her spacesuit didn’t have all the exciting upgrades this particular Protean suit had been equipped with. Each of her palms sported a propulsion unit that doubled as a weapon, there were miniature explosive devices in shoulder-mounted compartments that could be launched in the direction she was facing, and she even had a single-shot laser cannon that would swivel from her back to her shoulder with a mental command. She’d also heard of ways to override the suit’s power unit to fire a blast of energy from where it was housed in the chest plate.
Of course, all these things could only be used once, since she’d never be able to afford repairs or refills, but it would be worth it to wipe Miles’s smug face all over the floor, even if only metaphorically.
The briefcase gave a cheerful ding to indicate the suit was finished assembling, but Eva waited an extra ten-count before moving, just in case. The exterior cams flicked on, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by various visualizations provided by the suit interface. With a stern thought, she turned off everything except the suit status, targeting, and peripheral-threat alarm.
Eva took one tentative step, then another, adjusting to the way the armor fit and moved. It was, as advertised, lightweight, with better mobility in the joints than she expected. She was able to make a fist with minimal difficulty, and her gravboots were exposed at the bottom so she’d be able to use them as normal.
“All right,” she told Min, her voice slightly distorted by her helmet. “Let’s do this. Who’s up first?”
Min tapped her cheek. “Sue should be first,” she said. “Best to lead with our second strongest, save strongest for last.”
Sue nodded, her expression serious, but Eva chuckled.
“So I’m the worst fighter here?” Eva asked. “Ouch.”
“No, Cap, you’re great! You’re just, not a bot fighter, you know?”
“Sin pena, mija, you’re in charge here.” Eva’s nose started to itch again, and she absolutely refused to dignify her urge to pee with a response.
“So cool,” Min said. “Okay, team, show time! Let’s play to win!”
Min sat in the remote-operator area, slouching down in one of the provided chairs and making herself comfortable. She’d been jacked into her bot the whole time, and now she sent Goyangi over to wait in the pit, near the fence at the back. Eva walked in after, feeling less graceful than the bot triple her size, but growing more used to the suit with every passing moment. Sue came in last, Gustavo stomping around on its wide, round feet, its spherical green body more adorable than intimidating, despite the skull Sue had painted on the front.
Nara and Jei were already waiting inside, the former in her armor as usual. Jei was still in the same blue exosuit with his arm weapon, but had donned a matching blue helmet, and standing behind him was a bright-red robot that looked like a dog.
“He has one of those Pod Pals,” Sue said, leaning over the top of Gustavo to talk to Eva. “It’s bigger than it looked in the holovids.”
Eva squinted at it and frowned. Where had he gotten that? Garilia? Madre de dios, how was he connected to that whole enredo? Bad enough that Josh and Garilia kept coming up in the same places, but with Nara here, and now this . . .
Her thoughts were immediately squashed as Miles guided his bot into the pit. Eva couldn’t help herself: she started laughing, as deep a belly laugh as she could manage in a suit of tactical armor.
Miles’s bot was even bigger than Min’s, at least four meters tall and humanoid, painted shades of red and purple that she assumed were intended to be menacing. Where Min’s was more boxy and stiff-looking, this one had meticulously sculpted muscles like a bodybuilder, from its rippling pectorals to its mountainous biceps, washboard abs to bulging thighs. It wore absurdly large spiked armor on its shoulders, along with spiked gauntlets and boots, but Miles had mercifully restrained himself when it came to the crotch.
Gracias a dios, Eva thought, or I would have peed myself for sure.
With a massive effort of will, Eva told herself not to underestimate him. Miles presumably hadn’t gotten to be the champion for no reason, so his bot must have some serious tech. How had he managed it, coming here in secret as a former Fridge scientist turned escapee? Had Josh helped him? If so, why, and why had he left Miles behind? And who was their mystery third companion? That other scientist Emle, or someone else entirely?
Questions aside, even if she was positive that Min was the better fighter, Eva had no idea what to expect from Sue’s handiwork, and this was going to be a tough match.