Guardian (War Angel Book 1) by David Hallquist (best contemporary novels .TXT) 📕

course. The sensor head is missing, removed by the Saturnine cyborg, and it looks like Griffon lost an arm from my own SPGs going off so close.

Here and there, a wire or cable is hooked up to the ruins of my Angel, accessing his status and condition. I dread what I’ll see when I read the displays.

It’s not good. Most of the secondary systems were destroyed altogether. I was running mostly on backups and triple backups at the end of the fight. Almost every surviving system is severely damaged from stress, heat, and the effects of the virus infiltration. Everything will have to be repaired or replaced.

Then there’s Griffon’s processing core. That’s where he got it worst of all. There’s no signal, no memory there at all. Delicate nanotech systems were fused by a massive surge of power that turned the center of his being into a dead block of exotic carbon and trace elements.

He died to save me.

With the speed only a system like his could act with, he’d realized what was happening with the Saturn virus even as it was taking him over. He’d killed the virus the only way he could, shorting out his own core, and started the process of rebooting the frame, my suit, and my cyber-augments.

“Can he be repaired?” I ask stupidly, knowing better.

“No, sir,” the head technician replies. “The core and too many systems have been destroyed. There’s no way to restore this model to service after this much damage.”

“What about his parts?” I ask. “Maybe they can be salvaged and fight on in another frame?”

“Unlikely, sir. We’ll run tests on the various parts, but most of them will probably have stress levels exceeding guidelines, and then there’s the matter of scrubbing the virus from each component.”

“What will happen then?” My voice is rough for some reason.

“I’m not certain, sir,” he answers softly. “Most likely the armor and frame will be melted down and used to fabricate new parts for other frames.” He pauses. “In a way, sir, he’ll still be fighting on in other Angels.”

I try to tell myself that he’s…it’s…just a machine. Liar. A machine that gave his life for me. Don’t good and properly functioning machines do the same? It’s different. I can’t talk myself out of the fact that a good and loyal friend died to save my life.

“What will my new frame be?” I force myself to ask.

“We’re preparing frame AF-578289, code-named Chimera, for return to flight status. Physically, it’s completely undamaged. We’ve had to replace the entire core, and we’re running a full system purge and diagnostics to clear it of the Saturnine virus.”

I don’t want to take over Dashiell Bertrand’s old frame. I’d literally be stepping into his shoes. It’s disrespectful…and it would be acknowledging he’ll never fly again.

Instead of all that, I say, “Can we hold the frame for the squadron leader’s return to flight status?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Commander Rackham made it clear that every frame that can fly, will, as soon as possible.”

I nod.

“We’ll get your new flight number assigned to the frame once we’ve formatted the new core. Griffon will fly again…”

“No,” I say curtly.

“Sir?”

“This frame will remain Chimera. Keep the name and the nose-art. Only change the number.”

“Uh…yes, sir. We can do that.”

I’ll be flying the squadron leader’s former frame. Chimera will fly again.

* * *

I’ve got to see the Doc to get cleared for flight status.

Dr. Malcolm Chase is young for his profession, with earnest blue eyes searching out of an expressive, light blue face. He’s been going over absolutely everything to make sure I can fly a frame in battle and not fall apart, physically or mentally. I know it’s important, but it’s been going on a while now, and I just want to get back to flight status so I can do my job. And…all the extra care makes some sense, since I did almost get mind-wiped by a Saturnine virus. He needs to make sure I’m not going to go crazy or turn out to be secretly mind-probed, like that guy in the Titan Candidate movie.

So I take the time to answer all his questions fully. I feel fine, and I’m ready to fly again, but I’m not a doctor or a cyber-technician, so if there is anything wrong, I don’t want to let anyone else down when it counts.

My new cyber augmentation has grown in nicely. There was that weird, tingling feeling throughout my body as it connected to my nervous system, but everything seems normal now. The only part that was damaged were the computer systems and wired reflexes, and after extensive testing, everything seems to be working perfectly.

After going over everything, it feels like the interview is winding down.

“How do you feel about returning to flight?” the doc asks directly.

“I’m ready,” I answer. “I want to get back out there and do my job.”

“Why?” he asks.

What? “Uh, because it’s my duty to do so. I’m a flight officer in the Jovian Navy, and this is what I do.”

“I mean, why do you want to go back out there into combat?” he clarifies, sort of.

“Well…” I think on it for a bit. “This is what I’ve always wanted to do—fly Angel frames in combat. I love it. I’ve spent my life preparing for it. Also, I meant the part about duty. Jupiter needs qualified pilots. There are enemies out there and people who look to us to defend them. I want to get back out there and fight to protect people.”

Doc nods and marks something off on his tablet. “How do you feel about what happened to you?”

“How do I feel about it? I want some payback, that’s for sure.”

“Revenge?” he asks.

“Maybe.” I think seriously about it, and he waits patiently. What do I really want