“Stop,” Onyii shoots back in the kind of voice she hasn’t heard herself use in a long time. She grabs a chunk of sheet metal and, gritting her teeth, rips a piece of it off, then twists it into a sharp-ended pike. She tosses it down after Ify. “If anything comes—anything—swing as hard as you can, and don’t stop until its blood covers you.”
Before Ify can say anything, Onyii covers the rest of the tunnel’s opening by dragging the remaining discarded steel over the space, then covering it with brush until she’s satisfied that anyone running past won’t give it a second look.
Then she’s off. More thunder overhead, and the rapid-fire booms of mortar rounds landing in and around the camp. Columns of smoke sway in the air. The attack seems to be coming from everywhere. Onyii runs past the school before getting to the armory, where there are still plenty of weapons. She drapes a bandolier of rifle rounds over her shoulder and grabs a sack and stuffs it with banana clips taped together by twos. All around her, War Girls grab weapons and take up positions. Some nurse wounds. One leans against a wall with her bandaged leg out in front of her. No time to get to her. Not while they’re still under attack. Onyii darts into the forest. Before long, she hears footfalls near her, and she drops into a crouch, swinging her rifle in an arc, stopping only when she sees it’s Chinelo and a few of the older girls. Onyii doesn’t say anything, just nods, and they head in a line deeper into the forest until Chinelo raises a fist, signaling for them to stop in front of a tree.
One of the girls threads a wire out of the socket at the back of her neck, smashes a metal fist into a tree, revealing a control panel, and plugs in.
The ground opens up beneath them, groaning.
Below them are cockpits. Cockpits attached to weapons Onyii hasn’t used in far too long. Cockpits attached to a life she thought she’d left behind. When was the last time Onyii sat inside an ibu mech?
Onyii glances down the line. Amaka. Chigozie. Kesandu. Obioma. Chinelo. Then Onyii nods, and they all hop into the cockpits that have opened up beneath them.
Screens glow blue all around Onyii. When the familiar murmur of her console thrumming to life fills the air, it’s like she’s being held by her dearest friend. Familiar smells and sounds rush back into her brain and muscles. The control board, the gearshifts, the pedals, the triggers. Her cockpit. Hers.
She slides her rifle and bandolier over her shoulder, drops them by her feet, and inputs the commands that get the mech to make its first movements.
Thick fiber-optic wires hiss loose, and the mechs disconnect from their underground ports. A platform raises them through the earth so that Onyii’s view is first of dirt and then of thickets of elephant grass, then of the tops of the forest’s trees. Tree trunks split. The air howls around them. Then there’s a loud thunk as the platform settles into place.
They are a row of fierce machines, with shoulder cannons and arms outfitted with Gatling guns. Some of them are already holding massive spears or swords or staffs.
Onyii activates her comms and sees the faces of the other girls in a column of holos on the screen to her right.
“Amaka, ready,” says Amaka.
“Chigozie, online,” says Chigozie.
“Obioma, online.”
“Kesandu, online. Let’s do this.”
“Chinelo, systems go.”
Onyii settles into her seat. Tenses her shoulders. “Onyii, online.” She grips the gearshift. “Activate thrusters.”
She shoots into the air so fast, she’s slammed back into her chair. Her skin flattens against her face, against her body. Her bones rattle. Her teeth smash against each other. Branches thwack her windshield. Then there’s nothing but the sky above. In the moment, all sound vanishes, and the inky blanket over them shines with diamonds threaded through it.
Her sound systems activate, and all she can hear is boom boom boom. Her mech shudders with each explosion.
The others fly behind her, then settle in the sky.
“Amaka.” Onyii welcomes the hardness in her voice. “Take Kesandu and Obioma to secure the Obelisk. If we can’t access our minerals, we’ll lose all power. Chigozie, safeguard the school. Chinelo.”
Static, then Chinelo’s voice loud and clear. “Let’s slice up some Green-and-Whites.”
Onyii lets herself smile as their formation breaks apart and they head to their assignments. Just as Chigozie speeds off, an aerial mech, night-black with a green-and-white flag painted on it, speeds past.
“Chigozie!” Chinelo shouts.
But the Nigerian mech has already fired several rounds from its arm cannon into Chigozie’s back. Chigozie’s mech spirals through the air. Onyii hurls herself at the enemy mech. It gains on Chigozie, darting away from Onyii. It’s too fast. Onyii can’t catch it. But she speeds straight for where Chigozie will fall and cuts through the air, so fast everything around her blurs.
She twists around so that she’s facing up. Right when Chigozie’s mech sails over her, Onyii fires her shoulder cannons. Missiles twirl just past Chigozie and crash straight into the enemy mech’s core and cockpit. The explosion rattles Onyii. Her comms line buzzes.
“Nice shot.” It’s Chigozie.
Onyii toggles up her rearview and sees Chigozie’s damaged mech arc upward, trailing smoke, but operational.
“I’m fine,” Chigozie says. “I can handle the school.” Chigozie’s mech pauses in the air, then its thrusters fire, speeding her toward the school building.
“Onyii!” Chinelo calls. “I’m getting hungry-oh!”
Onyii detatches a bladed titanium staff from her back and grips it in one hand. Her engines warm around her. Then her mech cuts like an arrow through the sky, and the feeling returns. This is it. This is what she has been waiting for. The katakata. The chaos.
She catches one Green-and-White from behind, slicing clean through its core and racing off before it even has a chance to explode. Still racing forward, she spins and cuts through another enemy mech, then hops higher as missiles pass under her.
Onyii looks down at the camp below her. Crabtanks stomp through it. Their turret guns fire into every building they can find. Onyii charges downward, staff ready, and slices the top off of the first crabtank, then bounces into the air just as Chinelo’s missiles hit another. She flips to reorient herself, then charges into a formation of four enemy mechs. They break apart when she gets close.
She drives her spear through the mech closest to her. A second swings a massive hammer at her. She ducks. It hits its comrade, who spins to the earth. Onyii pulls her spear out of the first and guts the mech with the hammer. She pulls it close to use as a shield to take the Gatling gun fire the last of the Green-and-Whites shoots at her. The enemy mech on her spear shudders and writhes with each volley. Onyii charges forward and rams her new shield into the last mech, increasing speed, going faster and faster until she lets go of the spear, cuts off her back thrusters, and gets her front boosters to stop her in midflight. From her shoulder cannons, she lets loose another volley of missiles that turn two enemy mechs into a giant ball of fire.