Ben Hoban is a GP in Exeter.
Kruger had suited up for a straightforward recon insertion, and by the time he realised his mistake, there wasn’t much he could do about it. He’d mostly managed to avoid hard contact and had gathered some low-level intel, and now he was running low on fuel and ammo, and a long way from home. His gut told him there was something bigger out there, though, and he didn’t plan on leaving it for someone else to find. Interference from the overhead power lines limited the mech’s sensors to what would have been visual range if he’d been able to see anything at all through the smoke that drifted between ruined tower blocks, clogging up his filters and making his eyes water. Almost before he saw it, he was already reacting to the FPV drone that came at him from a first-floor window, reaching up a titanium alloy arm to swat it away: he was quick, but either the collision triggered its payload, or else its pilot simply knew they weren’t going to get a better shot. The blast knocked him off his feet, and when he tried to get back up, he realised that the servos in his left arm and leg weren’t responding. He didn’t need the alert flashing on his helmet display to know that the suit’s hydraulics had been shredded, or that in an instant he’d become a sitting duck. That’s when the smoke cleared for a moment, his scope turned red, and he found himself looking down the smooth bore of a 120 mm Rheinmetall L55A1 gun as it emerged slowly from the gloom of the warehouse ahead of him, courtesy of a Challenger 3 main battle tank. He activated the mech’s distress beacon, blew the canopy, and thumbed the release on his harness, but in truth, he felt as if he was going through the motions.
“Doctor Kruger, are you okay? You just had a look at my moles and gave me something for the ringworm and indigestion, and I was starting to tell you about my dizziness and that awful feeling of being tired all the time, but then you went a funny colour and called out…”
He blinked several times, trying to get his bearings and conscious of the look of concern on the face of the young man in tight trousers sitting opposite him. It was his late surgery on a Thursday, and he could hear rain on the flat roof; no doubt there’d be a puddle in the usual spot in the lobby by now. His mouth was dry and the room lights seemed brighter than they needed to be. He swallowed, took a moment to compose himself, and decided to go for honesty.
It’s just that you’ve been here for a while already and as you say, we’ve covered several things, and I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed by your list of problems.
“I’m sorry if I alarmed you, Danny. It’s just that you’ve been here for a while already and as you say, we’ve covered several things, and I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed by your list of problems. I want to help, but somehow I get the impression we’re going through the motions, and I wonder if perhaps you’re feeling a little overwhelmed too. If you are, then maybe that’s what we should be talking about instead.”
Danny sat up suddenly, as if he’d just been given an electric shock, making real eye contact for the first time in the consultation. He looked angry, his face tensed up like a clenched fist; he opened his mouth for a moment, but then didn’t say anything and closed it again. His posture relaxed a little and Kruger was relieved to see the tension and anger gradually melting away from his expression, replaced by a calm mask m overlying a look of great sadness and, just for a moment, naked fear. He turned away again.
“What you have to understand, doctor, is that things at home are a bit complicated. I don’t really know where to start…”
“You’ve already started, and that’s usually the hardest part. I’d like to understand, and you can tell me anything you want to, but sometimes it’s enough just knowing someone else gets that it’s complicated.”
“Thanks, I think you might be right there.”
Kruger managed to drag himself free of his damaged mech and take cover behind a burned-out JCB about a second before the tank’s high-explosive round detonated. He was a soft target now, but he was mobile again, and more agile on his feet than in the armoured suit. He made a dash towards the warehouse as the Challenger’s turret swung around, keeping as close to it as possible to stay out of its chain gun’s field of fire. Once he was past the entrance, its gates damaged and leaning precariously, he took a moment to catch his breath, and then smiled as he realised it wasn’t just the tank that his scope had picked up earlier. Even in the half-dark of the warehouse there was no mistaking the distinctive red, white, and blue markings of an original RX-78-2 Gundam battle suit towering over him; the cockpit was open and unoccupied. Kruger was back in the fight.
