It was the end of the lunch service when the light went yellow. I was relieved to see it, I wasn’t up to eating even the mild broth they had on hand for all of us half-dead types. My medicine tends to make me queasy every now and then, so as much as I would have liked to eat the fried chicken that smelled so good, that was more than my poor stomach could handle. I stared at the light instead of my mostly full bowl, almost smiling when it turned red.
“This is Central Command. We have confirmation of EMF activity. Code Shilombish”
My turn. I grabbed my cane and stood, knowing that I wasn’t expected to clear my table when I had to get to the Gear Chamber. I’m expected to hurry, and I do so, limping as quickly as possible down the hallway to the doorway that, at present, only I am allowed to go through. The light above the door flashes red, and I only take a glance before looking back down at the door, not wanting to risk a headache when I have work to do. I don’t have long to wait, they’re rushing. Must be something urgent.
“SLUG DES: Mayhem is in play. The Gears are turning. Please enter the Chamber. Good luck.”
I step inside, smiling a little as the door closes behind me and I get hooked up to the various wires and sensors that allow me to control the giant machine on the other end. I have a lot of practice now, so it only takes a few minutes. I pause just long enough to murmur a short prayer before slipping the visor on, and suddenly I’m hundreds of miles away inside a giant metal suit.
As always, I laugh a little while I flex my limbs and get my bearings. I spent the first twenty five years of my life trying desperately to get myself into some kind of order. I’ve always been one of those people for whom things just always go awry. Not always wrong, you understand, I’ve had sudden good events about as often as bad ones. But my life has always been dominated by luck, even though I enrolled in a military high school and went straight into the Navy, perpetually trying to force some order into my life. I loved my job, and I loved my more orderly life, despite all of the chaos that seemed to naturally follow me wherever I went. But then the pain started, and I had to retire at 26. The chaos had finally destroyed my life, or so I thought. But that natural chaos was what gave me back my work, in this strange new form. Only someone truly gifted at causing mayhem could pilot her. Mayhem is a fantastic piece of machinery, but when I’m piloting her she feels like my own skin. No pain, no stiffness, a perfectly responsive body like the one I used to have.
Taking a look around, I could see a mass of shadows disappearing to the left, about ten blocks down. Whatever city this was would have it’s work cut out for it cleaning this up. Shilombish like to organize things, and the ‘organized’ city blocks were surreal and on occasion, downright gruesome. The area was mostly clear of people-the few who were left were all running back towards the perimeter, so that was one less thing for me to worry about.
Cities tend to breed shadows, it seems. All those big tall buildings packed so close together make it nearly impossible for the sunlight to reach the ground, not to mention all the shady awnings and reflective metal conspiring to further protect city dwellers from the sunshine. It’s a perfect breeding ground for the shadowy bastards. With a twitch of a finger I primed my randomized strobe lights, and (always with a bit of regret) I made sure to knock over street signs and bus shelters as I passed-a bit of chaos to goad them out into the open. Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, it seemed as though I was stepping into a cloudy night. I kicked over their carefully sorted pile of pebbles and turned on the flashers. They didn’t stand a chance. Half of them attempted to flee into a nearby sewer grate, half of them lunged for me, trying to reorganize my suit, fix the pebbles, fight back helplessly, but they couldn’t get through the metal armor of the suit, and the lights took them out handily. I tossed a flashbang into the sewer just to be sure none of them made it down, and was rewarded with the shrieking of one last shadow meeting it’s end.
A good day’s work, I thought as my fifteen minute warning blared jarringly through the Gear Chamber. Mayhem can’t actually get down into the sewer, so I dropped command a note to send some ground scouts down there to double check, then disconnected with a sigh. All at once, all my aches and pains came rushing back, and I hobbled out of the chamber.
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