Chapter 1

1

Nomura Kaede finally felt herself breathe again as her power-ports disconnected from her war machine. The surface of her skin buzzed once more with a last crackle of energy, and she slumped slightly in her seat and waited for her pilot to power down their vehicle and open the hatch to let them out.

She was never sure whether she breathed while in her source-trance, but every single time she came back to herself, she felt breathless, as if a weight had been sitting on her chest for an extended period. She rubbed her hands over her bare arms, feeling a slight jolt under her fingers as she ran them over the metal ports embedded in her skin. It left behind a familiar tingle that never quite faded.

“All ready to go, Nomura?”

Her pilot flicked a switch without waiting for an answer, and the bridge door opened, allowing natural light to filter in. She didn’t remember his name, and he was wearing a non-regulation jacket over his uniform, so she couldn’t see his nametag. He was a pilot, so of course he wasn’t following the rules. They never did.

She envied the pilots a bit, if only because they could wear a full suit of clothing while driving. A source, like herself, could wear very little in order to allow the machine access to her ports.

She stood, stretching her muscles, trying to shake out the stiffness her body had accumulated from staying in one position for such a long time. Her neck cracked loudly and she winced. Her usual shifts were only four hours, but she was pushing seven.

“Sasori, docking completed. You are clear to disengage.”

At the radio’s crackle, the pilot was already halfway out the door, barely sparing her a glance as he fumbled with something in his jacket pocket. A moment later, he had a cigarette in his hand, and a curl of smoke drifted back to her on the air. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance. Smoking was not permitted in the docking bay, she wanted to tell him, but her mouth thinned and she remained silent.

After a long shift like this, her skin was still warm and pulsing with residual energy, feeling as if it might burst with the slightest pressure. When she stepped down out of her chair, the cold metal of the deck was a shock to the system. She scanned the area for her sandals and let out a huff of frustration as she realized they were nowhere in sight, although she’d left them close by before they’d started.

She found them hidden in a corner of the cockpit. She slipped them on, and they were tight and rough on her sensitive skin.

With another faint huff, she exited her machine and stepped onto the ramp, where the sharp, briny tang of sea air hit her nostrils. She looked out over the steel and concrete docking bay, and from her vantage point, found that Sasoriwas the last Level 3 machine to be docked. She made her way along the central catwalk, past all the engineers who had taken over the late work shift to do maintenance on the machines once all the pilots and sources had left.

“You’re in late, Nomura!” one of the engineers complained on the way past, hefting her toolkit over one shoulder. “You were supposed to be in two hours ago.”

“Blame the pilot,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just as annoyed as you by the delay, trust me. My neck feels wrecked.”

The engineer waved one hand at her over her shoulder in answer. Kaede kept going, sighing as a breeze from the open hangar door brushed over her exposed body. Goosebumps sprung up all over her legs and arms.

She quickened her pace and found her way to the locker room connected to the Source 3 hangar bay where she had a spare yukata hanging in her locker. By the time she got there, she had sweat dripping between her shoulder blades, and her hairline was soaked. The period after disconnecting from their machine was the worst for a source, especially one of a high level. It made the body go a bit haywire, as if they really were a part of the machine, and readjusting to being an organic system was a shock.

In the shower, the hot water felt glorious on her sore muscles, and she was almost done when the locker room door opened and someone called inside, “Kaede, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me!”

The door closed and she heard footsteps on the tiled floor. “The whole room is full of steam,” came the complaint.

“I did just spend over six hours powering a machine with an incompetent pilot,” she replied curtly, peering around the curtain at her fellow Level 3 source. “Don’t I deserve a little relaxation?”

“Really, that long?” Sae asked, eyes wide. “Didn’t you drain out? I know that if I even start pushing five, I’m done. Pilots know they’re not supposed to leave you that long without a break to replenish!”

“Well, he didn’t, but we got the job done.” Kaede snorted. “He hid my sandals before he left, though. How childish can you get? Ugh, pilots.”

“I know, right?” Sae said, holding out a towel for her as she finished. “It makes me wish I was a Level 9 sometimes. Can you imagine having such a light source-trance that you can pilot your own vehicle?”

“What, and then you could have your own motorcycle and the cool image to go with it?” Kaede laughed. “Don’t forget the salary cut.”

“I only said ‘sometimes,’” Sae sniped back. “You know, just so I wouldn’t have to put up with a pain-in-the-behind pilot all the time. And it would be nice to get somewhere in minutes instead of hours.”

“Our slow-moving machines have enough firepower to eradicate an entire village in one shot,” Kaede reminded her.