And once he finished breakfast, he was going to be the first human being in history to Drift with an alien brain.
PAN PACIFIC DEFENSE CORPS
J-TECH PROJECT UPDATE
The project of restoring and upgrading Gipsy Danger is complete. An updated list of improvements follows.
Restored plasma reservoirs for both cannons
Overhauled initiation protocols for plasma cannons, reducing warmup delays by 15%
Integrated post-Mark III advances in Conn-Pod interface technology
Restored and updated hydraulics and neuromuscular assemblies, resulting in faster reaction times and increased endurance
Restored painted insignia
Chain Sword installed and fully integrated into neurocommand systems
Other minor improvements in aesthetics and functionality
Reactor fuel rods replenished and coolant circulation system rebuilt
New venting system installed for improved reactor efficiency and venting of waste heat
Escape mechanisms tested and components updated per most recent PPDC specifications
Thorough vetting of upgrades demonstrates complete integration into existing circuitry undamaged during Gipsy Danger’s last combat deployment. Tendo Choi has observed vetting and simulations, and is in agreement with this assessment.
Screening of potential Drift partners for Raleigh Becket is complete. Five candidate finalists have been briefed and are prepared for physical trials in the Kwoon as soon as Becket is cleared to meet them.
This candidate strenuously objects to being removed from the list of finalists.
Submitted by Mako Mori on behalf of the Gipsy Danger Upgrade Team
10
RALEIGH HIT THE MESS HALL AT FIVE-THIRTY sharp, figuring on a quick bite that would leave him time to warm up before the trials. He wasn’t a big breakfast eater as a rule, but this morning he was starved. He was going to have to be careful not to stuff himself and then be groggy when it was time to fight.
The mess hall was the product of the same mold as the mess halls in every other military and pseudo-military facility all over the world. Serving area along one wall with trash cans and a counter at the far end. Through an open window Raleigh could see the kitchen crew energetically washing dishes. The main floor area was taken up with long tables set parallel to each other.
Even this early in the morning, most of the tables were occupied. Each Jaeger crew appeared to have a designated spot. The Wei triplets were accompanied by the syncopated thump of their ever-present basketball as they carried trays with one hand and dribbled between the three of them with the other. The Russians, a few tables over, had brought along their soundtrack. Ukrainian hard house rumbled and boomed from a portable speaker set in the middle of their table. Raleigh didn’t see Mako, and he hadn’t yet met any of Gipsy Danger’s crew, so he wasn’t sure where to sit.
He’d just decided to find a spot at an empty table when he heard Herc call out to him.
“Raleigh! Come with us. Plenty of food on our table.”
Herc was coming from the serving area, and Raleigh fell into step with him. He couldn’t believe the bounty on Herc’s tray, it was a feast compared to what he’d been used to over the last five years of ration cards in Alaska.
“Haven’t seen bread in ages,” he said, picking up a piece from Herc’s tray. It was still warm. The smell made his mouth water.
“Hong Kong,” Herc said. “That’s the beauty of an open port. No rationing. We have potatoes, peas, sweet beans, some decent meatloaf…”
They got to the table and Herc waved at the crew to scoot down and make space for Raleigh.
“Sit down,” he said. “This is my son, Chuck. He’s my co-pilot now.”
Raleigh nodded. He remembered Chuck from the night before and he figured that Herc was making the reintroduction as much for Chuck as for Raleigh. He was making a point: he’s one of us. Max the dog was under the table patrolling for scraps. A good guy, Herc. Raleigh remembered thinking that five years ago, and he appreciated the gesture now. Five years ago, Chuck was still in high school, or whatever Australians called it. Now he was looking at Raleigh like… well, like Raleigh had looked at Tommy back on the Wall.
“He’s my co-pilot,” Chuck said. Then, as Raleigh sat down, he started talking to his father as if Raleigh wasn’t there. “This is the guy that’s supposed to run defense for me? In the steam engine? Is Pentecost actually working for the kaiju now?”
Raleigh turned. He was having a bit of deja vu, like the scene in the Alaskan commissary was about to repeat itself.
“When was the last time you jockeyed, Ray?” Chuck asked.
Ray.
“Five years,” Raleigh said.
“And what did you do those five years?” Chuck pressed. “Something pretty important, I reckon.”
“I was in construction,” Raleigh said. Here we go, he thought. In Alaska I took all kinds of shit because I used to pilot Jaegers and nobody believed in Jaegers. Now I’m going to take more shit because the cocky son with a chip on his shoulder doesn’t think I’ve got what it takes anymore. No matter where I go, I hear it from someone.
It was enough to make a guy want to kill some kaiju.
“Oh, well, that’s… that’s great,” Chuck said with great blustering sarcasm. He looked to the crew, trying to egg them on. To their credit, they didn’t react. “I’m sure that’ll be really helpful, Ray. If we ever need to build our way out of a fight.”
Raleigh waited for him to finish, then calmly said, “It’s Raleigh.”
“Whatever,” Chuck said. “You’re Pentecost’s idea, and my old man seems to like you, but from where I’m sitting, you’re a liability. You slow me down, I’m going to drop you like a sack of kaiju shit.”
He stood with his tray and stepped back from the table. Raleigh watched him steadily, not reacting at all. There were plenty of guys like Chuck in the world.
“Enjoy the rest of your vacation in Hong Kong, Ray,” Chuck said. He whistled and Max scrambled out from under the table. “C’mon, boy.”
Trailed by the dog, Chuck swaggered off in the direction of the dishwashing station.
After a moment, Herc cleared his throat.
“You can blame me for that one,” he said. “I raised him on my own. Smart kid, but I never knew when to give him a hug or a kick in the ass.”
Raleigh took his time enjoying a mouthful of the delicious bread. When he had finished chewing, he said, “With respect, sir, I’m pretty sure which one he needs.”
The sun had barely peeked over the Jaeger bays when Mako found Marshal Pentecost in the LOCCENT.
“The candidates are ready,” she said. “We will commence the trials immediately, sir.”
She had gone to his quarters first, the spare quiet space that doubled as his personal office. Sensei—she had begun calling him that when he had first taken an interest in her, in Tokyo—had begun keeping unusual hours. Sleeping poorly, eating irregularly. He said nothing and Mako had not asked, but she could see others in the Shatterdome starting to glance uneasily at each other after he passed in the corridors. What was wrong with him? Was he sick? Everyone under Pentecost’s command was asking the same question, none of them out loud.
She had to remind herself to call him Marshal. He had ordered her not to call him Sensei since her admission to the Jaeger Academy in 2020. For the last five years she had held her tongue. Someday she would call him Sensei again.