Mech 3: The Empress Read Online Free

to be his limited ration of daily stimulant had done far more than just stimulate him throughout his tenure here at the mine. But despite his having managed to tamper with the contents, the machine that controlled the allotments was a harsh master. It would not allow any alteration of the schedule itself. He was to be given a single dose of liquid refreshment per day, and thusly the stingy allotments would continue to be doled out slowly until he signed out of this place for the last time.
    Within a few minutes of completing his beverage, Megwit was bored. His mind was still numb, but he was not yet ready for sleep. Besides, the monitoring systems would protest and prod him if he attempted to climb into his bunk now. He eyed his bunk with longing anyway. The steel chair and angular steel desk were not terribly comfortable to nap upon.
    The alarm chime began again. Megwit gargled with rage. He slapped at the screen with floppy fingers. It would not stop its infernal beeping! Finally, he managed to silence it. How many times had he done so? How many times had he silenced that particular alarm? He could not be sure.
    He frowned and squinted through bleary eyes, trying to focus on the screen. Normally, the system would have given up by now. It would have taken his repeated acknowledgements and dismissals as a lowering of priority. In time, it should have forgotten about whatever was upsetting it, much as Megwit himself had given up on such trifling matters long ago. But the system had not given up. It had continued to insist.
    Grudgingly, he checked it, dialing up a menu with one sloppy forefinger. It was not out of any sense of duty or responsibility that he was moved to follow-up on the alarm now. He did so out of a sense of curiosity, heightened by boredom and the random behavior common among those affected by blur-dust.
    A map of the complex sprung up on a small screen. A blinking red light showed an external hatchway was open. Megwit frowned. The hatches all sealed themselves automatically when a storm blew up, and this storm had been raging for hours.
    He checked outside, but saw no change in the grim conditions. The winds screamed in excess of fifty miles per hour, with gusts up to ninety. All of the mech laborers had long ago been safely stored or had taken shelter inside the mine itself. How could this door have been opened? The only answer that came to his foggy mind was the most likely one: the hatch had not been properly secured in the first place and had somehow been blown open.
    Relieved it was nothing more serious, he all but dismissed the matter from his mind. If it had been something truly damaging, he might be held liable, even after his termination. This open hatch could be safely ignored. Certainly, the mechs would have a lot of sand to clean up when the storm passed, but that did not concern him.
    A nagging thought, however, made him check into the situation further. He had the feeling he’d forgotten something. Exactly which chamber had been left open to this blasting storm?
    He frowned at the screen in his weak-fingered hands as it zoomed in and showed him the source of the trouble. What was that? The processing chamber? He shook his head. There was no one in there.
    Then he sat back and laughed suddenly. He shook his head and licked the rim of the thermos, tasting the final stinging drops of blur on his tongue. Why was it, when one waited long enough, a few more drops always seemed to accumulate at the bottom of a vessel?
    Megwit now recalled working in the processing chamber. He’d been there when he’d gotten the news, when he’d learned of his contractual termination. He’d been doing something in there…
    He recalled what it was now: he’d been working on a mech in that chamber, a fresh delivery. Frowning, he activated the cameras. He was liable for all the equipment at Facility #4, and the mining lords weren’t known for their compassion when losses were traceable to a clear-cut source of