“Ahh, perfect,” Ronin said as he took a deep swig of the taste optimized water, then leaned back in a lazy stretch.
He felt as if he’d lost weight. His movements were smoother, there was a lightness to his step and his range of motion was better than ever. After going through that horrible ordeal, he'd passed some sort of barrier when it came to his body — and it showed.
Any old remaining injury he'd had, was now gone. His head still hurt though, there was no avoiding that. And concerning the topic of headaches, what had happened yesterday was so bad, he’d been avoiding looking at the news all day. All he knew, was that whatever he’d done to the Happy Pearl restaurant, that place probably stunk to high heavens by now.
Ronin himself had been in the biorinser at least 10 times already, but that damn remnant odor still wouldn't leave.
Let’s just not think about it, he told himself again.
He still had a ship to build. He placed the water can to the side, then put the micro-spanner in his mouth as he went back into the Hemsway.
His arms and face, now grimy with oil, moved with purpose as screws were fastened, panels were aligned, and electrical sockets were installed.
The fusion drive was already set up and ready to go, and all that was left to do to complete the ship were the final parts.
Spending a few hours on the cockpit and on the internal lighting, the shuttle was finally finished. Well, it still needed a paint job, but he could do that later.
Ronin, struggling to contain his excitement, did a final round of pre-flight diagnostics.
The diagnostics screen first showed the internal heating system as green, then, the anti-gravity module lit up. This one seemed to be fine as well. The fusion drive lit up, the airlock, the lighting, the drive controls… it went on. Hundreds of green lights filled the screen.
Everything looked good. It was time.
Ronin had the factory bots move the Hemsway onto the runway, following closely behind as it moved into position. He then entered the airlock, squeezed himself into the cockpit and turned on the engine.
VHOOM!
“Oh, now I get it,” Ronin muttered as the deep hum of the fusion drive reverberated throughout the hull. “So that's why the engine's more powerful. Those who made this ship, did it because of this feeling right here.”
Ronin felt as if he was riding a wild beast. The whole ship was literally vibrating.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he had to hold himself back from clamping down on the gas pedal. This ship wanted to fly. Ronin willed himself to look at the diagnostics screen he'd brought along. Everything still seemed to be working properly.
He coupled his implant to the ship's flight controls, then activated the anti-gravity module. The ship next smoothly rose up from the ground, hovering just a few centimeters above the concrete below.
Now let's see if you can fly.
Ronin placed his hand on the control stick, then pulled it back as the 3-meters long shuttle began to rise.
“Slow and steady wins the race,” he murmured, affording himself a quick glance out the side window. He was now 20 meters up in the air.
He gently pressed the gas pedal, and the ship began moving forward. Moving his hands over to the steering wheel, Ronin next pushed it down until the Hemsway pointed directly up. He increased his speed. Everything still looked nominal. It was time for a real test!
Pressing the gas pedal all the way down, Ronin sunk into his seat as the Hemsway shot up towards the sky, only going faster and faster.
VHOOM!
The ship began to shake as it pierced a series of smog-laden clouds, and Ronin couldn't help but grin. This was it! This was what it was all about. He kept going until the concrete forest below turned small, and he entered the upper atmosphere. He let out a laugh in excitement.
“Hahaha, yes! It works, it works!”
There was only one final test left now.
Continuing up, he exited the atmosphere entirely, exposing the ship to the vacuum of space. Ronin eagerly gazed upon the stars, but as he was about to turn to the diagnostics screen one final time, the whole cockpit flashed red.
[Warning! Warning! Unregistered entry into the planet's military border detected. Turn back immediately or be shot upon!]
The blood red text flashed ominously across the ship’s windscreen.
The whole planet is a military border?
Ronin was reminded of what Olsen Scar — the CLM supporter — had told him back on Exodon:
He said the government killed his son when he tried to leave, but my parents weren't born here, they came from Hartheim. It's clearly possible to travel between planets.
If Ronin was going to travel off-world, perhaps he'd need to register the trip with the government first? Either way, he could look into this later. The test was over, and the ship worked exactly as described in the blueprint.
He turned the Hemsway around, then began to descend back down.
This was the first ship he’d built, and he’d succeeded on his first attempt. This was not only a confirmation to himself that he knew what he was doing, it was the first real step he’d taken towards achieving his dream!
“…”
Returning to the factory, Ronin climbed up on one of the beams along the ceiling, then hung himself upside-down as he began doing sit-ups.
He was still tingling from the rush of having completed his first spaceship, and nothing helped release that rush more than a good workout.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…” He counted until he reached a hundred reps, then rested a little.
As he was in the middle of his next set, however, a certain bald-headed student walked in.
“Uh, Ronin?”
Ronin paused, then looked at the upside-down Simons.
“Just a moment, I’m almost done,” he said, then proceeded to do another 20 sit-ups before dropping down.
It was about a 6-meter drop between him and the floor, but with his body the way it was now, he could take it.
As he landed on the ground, Simons’s eyes shot up in shock.
“What’s up?” Ronin asked, flashing a grin. “Ready to work? I’ve got a couple of designs ready for us to practice with. You should—”
“Before any of that,” Simons interrupted, taking a deep breath as he calmed down. “Disregarding that crazy jump you just did... Yesterday, we all suddenly had to leave right as you entered the toilet... You knew, didn’t you?”
Simons nudged his implant, then sent Ronin a series of links to various news feeds.
Ronin sighed. “I’d rather not look, but I guess there's no avoiding this anymore.”
“They're calling it an act of bioterrorism,” Simons said. “Hundreds got injured in the panic and there are thousands of cases of unconsciousness. Several stores, restaurants and banks have also had to close… Just what kind of an organization have I joined? I deserve to know.”
Ronin’s optical implant displayed news report after news report, and it did not look good.
He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright, look, I will neither confirm nor deny any involvement in this—” he made an awkward cough, “happy pearl incident. But say, purely hypothetically speaking—”
“Hypothetically speaking?” Simons echoed.
“Hypothetically speaking, yes. If I was involved in any way, it would’ve been entirely accidental! I sometimes get a very bad stomachache. It’s related to why I can jump down 6 meters and still be fine. Yesterday, I may have been taken by surprise as I went to the toilet, but something like that will never happen again!”
Simons narrowed his eyes.
“A bad stomachache? I gave up a lot to join this company. If it turns out that this place is some sort of criminal enterprise, I’m telling my father.”
“No, there’s nothing criminal here!” Ronin hastily said. “There's no need to worry.”
“Alright, we’ll see,” replied Simons. “And you should probably look into that last link I sent you — if you don’t want to get hypothetically caught that is.”
Ronin opened the link, and a bounty notice popped up:
WANTED
THE DEFILER
At 41 hours 23 minutes standard time, during the 4th day of the 3rd month, 3421 A.I. a brutal act of bioterrorism was committed in district 22. Any information shared, if it leads to the capture of The Defiler, will be rewarded.
REWARD
10 000 Tar credits.
Contact the Planetary Guard via the link below.
The only image on the bounty notice was that of a golden codpiece.
Ronin scrunched his nose as he recoiled from the document. This did not look good.
“Yeah,” Simons said, noticing Ronin’s reaction. “Other than some contradictory statements regarding the color red and the existence or nonexistence of a power armor, the fact that there was a golden codpiece involved, is all they know. At least, that’s all they’re willing to share.”
“Why?” Ronin asked.
“According to the news,” Simons began. “All the people that went unconscious around the area, are experiencing memory loss. I'm guessing the smell was so bad, it caused the people that experienced it to block out the memory of it or something.”
Well, at least Ronin hadn’t been exposed yet, but he really needed to do something about that golden codpiece, and he needed to do so quick. He gave Simons free access to the factory equipment, then sent over the instruction manuals.
“Focus on learning the 3-D printer and the assembler first,” he said.
Ronin next headed directly for the Heromaker, stepped into it, then walked it over to the assembly area.
I don’t have the blueprint for this thing, but I do have an instruction manual, he thought as he exited the suit. It should suffice for the codpiece at least. He brought out a measuring tool, then sized up the golden object:
It sticks out by a whole 7 centimeters from the armor… Maybe I could repaint it to make it less visible? No, it will still stick out. There’s no hiding something of this size.
Ronin could only shake his head.
Inspecting the codpiece closer, it seemed to have been fastened to the suit by a series of tiny screws. As a first order of business, he should at least drill those out. He needed to see what he was working with. Ronin walked over to one of the nearby storage cabinets, then picked out a power tool. At least this part shouldn’t pose a problem.
As he began drilling, in short order, the screws piled up beside the power armor, and he popped off the codpiece.
So that’s why it's so large.
Where the golden bulge had previously been, there was now a thick cluster of wires, wrapped around a battery. If Ronin wanted to make the codpiece flat, he'd have to press all of this stuff further in.
He began to drill out more screws, opening and removing armor plating as he traced the path of the wires. Interestingly, the wires under the codpiece connected to several different circuit boards. There were circuit boards along the suit's legs, along its arms and inside its chest.
He began with the circuit boards along the Heromaker's legs first, disconnecting the wires that ran from the codpiece to the boards. Ronin turned on the suit again, then inspected the HUD:
The silent mode function is showing error messages now, he thought.
He couldn't have that! The silent mode was not only convenient, but it could also save his life if he was ever outmatched. Ronin turned off the Heromaker, reconnected the wires, then moved on to the suit's chest area. The circuit board here was massive! He removed the wires that connected to it, then inspected the HUD again. This time it was the dance program that showed error messages.
So that's where that void forbidden thing comes from! Ronin knew what he should remove now.
He next began redirecting and removing wires, and after some trial and error, he managed to connect the battery in the crotch area away from the dance program and onto the energy shield system instead. Then, with a little bit of brute force, he got both the battery and the now reduced cluster of wires far enough in to make the codpiece flat.
Switching on the Heromaker, it now showed a 10% increase in battery life. If anything, this was a win-win in Ronin's eyes. Now all that remained, was to fix the codpiece.
He picked up the bulging plate, then headed for the 3-D printer.
“Hey, Simons?” Ronin asked.
“Yes?”
The round youth was currently studying the printer.
“Want to try making a codpiece?”
Simons made an uncomfortable expression. “A codpiece would indeed be a good thing to practice with, but… wouldn’t that make me an accessory to the crime?
“Look, I'm still not saying I'm the one who did it, but if I did... think about it. You’re the only other designer in the company, you left the restaurant just before the smell began to spread and you still haven’t informed the planetary guard.” Ronin made a casual shrug. “In the eyes of the law, I doubt a codpiece is going to make much of a difference at this point.”
“Don't tempt me,” replied Simons, “I still might call them you know. But yeah, I guess you're right,” he sighed. “Alright, toss it over.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
“Yeah yeah, just give me the damn thing.”
The codpiece flew through the air and Simons reached out a hand to grab it. Ronin next walked over to pat his new collaborator on the shoulder, but the man jerked away.
“No, stop!” Simons cried, covering his nose. “Oh, mighty heavens above, now I know why so many people passed out!”
About five minutes later — after Simons was finally done retching — The gold-colored abomination had been melted down, and a new codpiece was taking shape. Ronin, meanwhile, headed towards the assembler. He now had two new objects he needed to paint.
