Spinning Wheels: Mecha Origin 3 Read online

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Copyright © 2019, Eve Langlais

  Cover Art Dreams2Media © 2019

  Produced in Canada

  Published by Eve Langlais ~ www.EveLanglais.com

  eBook ISBN: 978 177 384 093 2

  Print ISBN: 978 177 384 094 9

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email, photocopying, and printing without permission in writing from the author.

  Introduction

  Best friends Zak and Ray have only one goal in life: Upgrade their bodies until they’re more metal than flesh.

  But to do that, they need to find more gears. And who better to help them find lost treasure than a seer who can predict the future and decipher the past?

  Funny how she didn’t predict her own kidnapping.

  Nema isn’t impressed with her supposed rescue by the Siyborghs. Part male. Part metal. She doesn’t approve of the parasitic cogs in their bodies. Especially since they pose a danger.

  That doesn’t stop her from desiring them.

  Even more tantalizing, they both want her, too.

  First, though, they need to find the Mecha Origin before it destroys her world.

  1

  Help me.

  The whisper came on the wind, lifted stray strands of her hair, and tickled her nape. Within the mountain range, it wasn’t unusual to hear ghostly shadows. Not that there was anyone to hear them on the steep uninhabited slopes.

  Higher. Come higher.

  Again, the strange command danced around her as if floating on a stray breeze. She couldn’t ignore it. Part of her duties as a handmaiden involved scouting the mountain and keeping it free from danger.

  Having hiked this terrain many a time, she didn’t feel any strain in her thighs as she took long strides, pushing herself to climb faster, enjoying the exhilaration that came from intense exercise.

  Nema spotted the anomaly near the rim where the forest stopped and the rocky façade began. It appeared caught in the branches of a tree, the shape of it strange, the body of it a greenish gray. Not of her world.

  Alien.

  Most definitely not supposed to be here. She crept slowly toward it, watching for any sign of movement. Having been taught the basics of previous intrusions by outside influences, she recognized it as a machine. Not something seen often on her planet, the only other tech she’d ever encountered being in the safety of a classroom where her tutors revealed what lived among the stars. Places of metal where nature was ravaged. Entire worlds polluted.

  The pictures were enough to make a few of the students gag. Avhallonnians didn’t abuse their home. They didn’t consume it with no care for its survival. They eschewed machines and other metal-based tech. They lived simply, a species at peace with their land.

  The land below the mountain to be specific. The mountains maintained a much wilder, dangerous aspect, full of ferocious animals and traps to break the ankles of even the hardiest of hikers.

  It fell to the handmaidens of Avhallonn to watch and keep the homes in the valleys between the mountains safe.

  The device hadn’t so much as twitched a metal limb since she’d begun watching it. Grimacing, she reached for it, wishing she’d brought gloves. The warmth of the season didn’t require extra layers though, so she gripped the metal with bare fingers and hoped she wouldn’t get shocked. Much outside tech used electricity, and having seen someone hit by lightning, jiggling and steaming in place before dropping dead, she had a deep respect for it.

  The machine remained cold in her grip, and lighter than expected given it filled her arms. She set it down and crouched before it, staring. It had a strange shape—a fat, spherical body with hinged legs. From the top extended four propellers to fly.

  Not everyone on the planet would have known that. Nema’s studies as a handmaiden and protector of her world meant she got a preview of what existed outside their planet. It wasn’t pretty.

  Just like this device. “What are you doing here?” she muttered as she rapped on the body. She half expected a door to pop open and for something to jump out. She laid a hand on the hilt of her knife as she waited.

  She inspected it from all angles, searching for a hint of a light or a glass lens, which her tutor had explained might mean someone watched. Although she didn’t see how. They’d have to be fairly small to fit inside.

  Turn it over.

  The suggestion barely registered before her hands moved to flip the object, and something rattled inside.

  “If you’re broken, that probably explains how you crashed here.” Because Avhallonn wasn’t a place you got to easily.

  Its legs remained upright, and she ignored them to glance at the belly, noticing the demarcation, rectangular in shape. A hatch of some kind.

  “How do I open it?” She rapped the hilt of her dagger against it with a dull metal clang. It remained intact.

  Overhead, lightning flashed as a storm moved in. She would prefer to be off the mountain before it hit, but she couldn’t leave the device here. With a sigh, she grabbed it by the legs. As she swung it upward, planning to tuck it under her arm, it quivered.

  A slight shock went through her flesh. Gasping, she flung the machine away from her. The body slammed hard into the trunk of a tree. Knife in hand, she stalked toward it. It buzzed, three of the tiny blades on top spinning rapidly, and then it rose from the ground with a distinctive wobble.

  She lunged at it, and the thing dodged. Not expecting that, she stumbled before managing to turn and see it hovering before her, dipping and rising, the legs waving.

  Letting it escape wasn’t an option. She threw herself at it once more, feinting with her knife. Meanwhile, she grabbed a leg with her other hand.

  She dropped the knife to secure it with both hands. She leaned her entire weight into it, pulling it down. It protested the entire way, the metallic whine making her wince. But she kept pulling while, at the same time, angling. When she reached the right spot, she relaxed her grip and let the machine rise straight up into a branch. Its spinning blades caught in the thick, unyielding bark. An arm raised over her face protected it from spraying slivers.

  Nema took a step back and listened to the whine of the machine as it died. Only when it stopped did she look again, eyeing the single twitching metal leg.

  “Are you dead yet?” she grumbled.

  The leg stopped moving.

  She grinned.

  A smile lost, as there was a squeak and the belly of it opened.

  Reach inside.

  A terrible suggestion. No one with any sense would stick their hand in there.

  She preferred to keep her original fingers, thank you. She chose instead to nudge the machine with her foot and
flip then kick it away again. The rocky ground with its lichen-like scrub had no place for the item to hide.

  A jagged disc of metal, perfectly round and possessing even teeth all around and through its punctured middle.

  “What is it?”

  Wrong. All her senses cringed at the feel of it. Recoiled at the alien nature of the object. The distaste, not entirely her own, made her hesitate to grab it.

  “It’s just a piece of metal.”

  Is it?

  She cocked her head. “I can’t leave it here. Someone else might find it.” And she got a sense that might be bad. Very bad.

  Lightning flashed overhead again, the rumble right after telling how close the storm crept.

  She needed to stop wasting time, or she’d get caught. She reached for the object, surprised at its warmth and at the trepidation that suddenly went through her.

  Hello. A ghostly whisper that somehow seemed closer than before.

  Time to get off the mountain. She wasn’t interested in making friends with something she couldn’t see.

  As her fingers closed around the alien object, her own consciousness rose with only one thought: Destroy it.

  What made it so dangerous? It appeared rather benign in the palm of her hand, but she trusted her instinct. Destroy it she would, but she couldn’t do it out here on the mountain. She tucked the spoked disc into her pocket and began to sprint. The rocky terrain added an element of challenge. She couldn’t stumble or fall, not if she planned to outrun the storm.

  With a challenge for herself, Nema leapt, nimble and sure-footed, the fastest of the handmaidens, and yet she’d not quite made it to her home at the base of the mountain when the first drops hit.

  She lifted her face and tasted the freshness before ducking into the round hole leading into the bole of the tree.

  The forest of Kamlott had the fattest trees on the planet, the inner trunks hollowing as they grew, providing shelter to her people. Those who didn’t live in the forests abided in caves by the ocean. While her tree was small, Nema didn’t share it with anyone. Her first real home.

  Which was a battle with her mother. “Why do you have to leave?”

  Because a daughter sometimes needed to strike out on her own. Not that she’d gone far. She still saw her mother almost every day.

  Shaking her wet hair, she raked fingers through the long strands before twisting it into a bun. Sticking her fingers in her pocket, she retrieved the alien object and placed it on a table made of a single piece of wood. Grown by artisans who coaxed the plants of her world to bend a certain way, it cost her quite a bit of hunting to bring back enough broken branches to pay for it.

  The disc sat there, doing nothing. Her inner voice remained quiet.

  So she poked at the object, pressing it with a fingertip.

  Don’t.

  There was panic in the word.

  She glanced inward and mouthed, “Why?”

  No reply. Not exactly strange, but the quiet fear? Never before experienced.

  “Nothing to be scared of. It’s just a hunk of metal.” To prove that, she touched it again.

  The spot warmed as if it responded.

  She frowned. Metal wasn’t alive. She remembered that from her classes.

  Or was this not metal? Grabbing her dagger, she held it over the object for a moment, and then stabbed down.

  Cling.

  Her dagger left a tiny mark on the metal, barely visible among the other scratches. Or were they scratches?

  Nema leaned closer and eyed the markings, noting their neatness and how some of them repeated.

  Writing. A language she couldn’t understand. The librarians would want to see it. It could wait until the morning, though. Tonight belonged to the storm. Dropping her dagger, she reached to grab the alien object just as a particularly bright flash pierced every opening in her house. She blinked then flinched, as her lack of attention meant she grabbed her knife rather than the metal thing, slicing her hand.

  Blood stained her palm. The irony of getting hurt at home rather than on patrol didn’t escape her. She sucked at the small wound. Too small to bother with a bandage.

  She turned from the table, eyed her bed, and suddenly couldn’t wait to get into it. Maybe read a book.

  A particularly violent rumble managed to shake the floor under her feet, and as she put her hand on the table to steady herself, she touched part of the alien object. Images flashed inside her mind of darkness interspersed by light, then a room with people advancing, bearing strange weapons, then more darkness…One after another, she was bombarded, until her inner voice screamed.

  No more.

  Yanking her hand away, she tried to break contact with the object. It followed, sticking to her.

  “What on Avhallonn is happening?” she muttered as she stared at her hand. It didn’t change the situation. The metal disc clung to her flesh right over the wound. A leech of some kind.

  Utterly repulsive. She gripped it and tugged, gasping at the pain, feeling a tiny thread of fear as the thing refused to release her.

  Help me.

  She blinked. The ghostly voice from the mountain brought a frown. She’d never had one follow her before.

  “Who’s speaking?” she asked aloud.

  You have to help.

  “Help who? And how?”

  The Lake. I must touch the Lake.

  Her eyes widened, and she stared at the thing, which now adhered entirely to her hand. An alien parasite that wanted her to take it to the most sacred place in her world. A mistake that made her only option clear.

  She straightened her spine, hardened her resolve, grabbed her dagger, and gritted her teeth as she sliced herself free.

  Even as she dripped blood from the wound, she took her knife in her uninjured hand and slammed the pommel down on the metal ring, startling the whispers into a scream. Lips pressed tight with determination, she hit it, over and over again, until it cracked.

  And then she smashed it a few more times until the screaming stopped.

  2

  “The Lake is restless,” stated the High Lady—referred to as the Lady of the Lake—the most important person on the planet. Also known as Nemmuu, Nema’s grandmother.

  For once, grandmother didn’t exaggerate. The surface of the massive lake undulated, rippling with discontent. An unusual state given it usually sat still without even a single line marring the clear fluid. Nothing swam in its depths. The smooth basin of rock that provided a cradle held not a single plant. Unlike other waters on Avhallonn, nothing ever took up residence in this most scared of places.

  At times Nema wondered if that was by purpose or design. Those that guarded the shores and depths of the Lake—that had no other name because when you said the word a certain way, there was only one place that applied—took their duties of protecting it seriously. The Lake represented life. It was an honor to serve it.

  “It’s been restless for a while now,” corrected First Lady Veevii, Nema’s mother. There were actually three First Ladies in total at any given time, assisting the High Lady in her duties and training the one who would eventually take her spot. Hopefully still a long way off yet.

  Nema currently only sat in the fourth rank in the hierarchy that ruled the entire population. A government by definition, although philosophers over the ages argued they were more like a religion.

  Either way, everyone served the Lake, some more than others. The thing she feared most. Moving up the ranks meant acting in a more confined capacity. Second and third line of their structure tended to have tasks that involved too many meetings and spending copious amounts of time inside. Very unappealing.

  She preferred the outdoors. Preferably far from the eerie stone cavern that housed the Lake. A blasphemy she’d only once stated aloud because it sent her Nemmuu into a fit. Nema had received a lecture on how she should bask in the presence of its waters. Feel comforted by the knowledge that it would protect. And she did.

  Truthfully, Nema love
d the Lake. She just wished it would shut up. Ever since she rose to the rank of handmaiden and received the ceremonial dunking, it talked to her.

  All. The. Time.

  Even now, it whispered to her. You’re wasting time. It is looking for us.

  “Who is looking?” Nema kept asking. The voice within, which was more of a presence than actual words, never had a reply.

  You must act. We are in danger.

  And by we, the Lake didn’t mean Nema. The water played host to many personalities.

  Nema wasn’t alone in hearing the warning.

  The Lady of the Lake heard it most of all. “There is something wrong. The lake is crying out.”

  “But it won’t say why,” Nema remarked as they stood on the crystal pavers that wound around and around from the shore of the Lake. The moist air brought a light sheen of sweat to her face and body. Nema did her best to not sigh and roll her eyes as she listened to her mother and grandmother argue.

  “I’m not getting a clear image of what is bothering it. But it peaked last night.”

  Possibly around the time Nema had the issue with the parasitic object. A fine time to tell them about it. She put her hand in her pocket and withdrew the handkerchief with the metal disc inside. “I found something strange on the mountain,” she said.

  “Then give it to the herbalist,” Nemmuu said with a wave of her hand.

  “It’s not a plant.” She unwrapped it, being careful to not touch the metal. Even though it hadn’t spoken since she’d cracked it, she preferred to not take any chances.

  The Lake gave a mighty roll, waves rising and falling, the peaks white and agitated. Because of the object?

  Grandmother snatched it from her. “Where did you find this?”

  “On the mountain during my patrol. It spilled out from the belly of a machine.”