I watched the elevator disappear down the tunnel, vaguely aware that I should notify Local Command & Control about the attack group incoming. If I could get a signal. If it even really mattered.

“You are a machine after all.” What was that supposed to mean? I was Lt Ivan Reckall. I had been recruited inside the Wemmick Research Headquarters by Major Namassar.

Crawling under the huge bulk of Mother/Iron Lady/Tunneler 13, I struggled to remember more and failed. But that wasn’t supposed to be. I was Lt Ivan Reckall. I…

There was a maintenance hatch here. Did she mean for me to climb inside?

The cable was standard, the protocols standard – this wasn’t some hyper-sophisticated attempt at breaching DATASEC. Facing a titanium undercarriage battered and dented by time, I decided that there were certain limits to what could be achieved through reasoning.

The cable’s connection resolved into a picture of an appropriately maternal-looking woman, and the maintenance hatch opened under my touch.