Echo In the Machine - Chapter 10
An expanded tale written from prompts while playing ECO MOFOS!!
Start from the beginning of my ECO MOFOS!! Solo Playthrough story HERE!
CHAPTER 10: FALSE MORNING
The morning came in bits and pieces. First came the light in thin rays through the seams of the trailer, cutting pale lines across my face. Then the wind, shifting and restless, whistled through the patched metal with creaks and moans. Then the smell. Something bitter in the air got under my nose and snapped me fully awake.
I opened my eyes and pushed myself upright on the couch. My body complained immediately. My shoulders were tight from hauling the droid, my hands stiff from stress. I sat up and started to stretch my back as I pulled my arms across my chest to hopefully loosen up the old muscles.
Tarot sat near a small burner, crouched low, stirring something in a dented tin cup. Steam curled up in front of his face. He was smiling.
“Morning,” he said, giggling. He actually giggled.
“…morning,” I echoed, voice a little ragged. He took a slow sip from the cup and let out a satisfied hum.
Siren wasn’t awake yet, I assumed.
I stood, continued to stretch out the stiffness, and started checking my gear. I took a quick inventory of my pack. Still intact. I pulled Ole’ Sixey, flipped her open, spun the cylinder once, snapped it closed, and slid it back home.
I looked over at the droid in the cart by the door. It hadn’t moved. Still worth the trouble, I thought.
Then the door creaked open.
Siren stepped in already dressed for the road. Not the loose, lived-in gear from last night. This was tighter. Cleaner. Reinforced in the right places. Her work clothes. Stronghold clothes.
“You’re awake,” she said.
“My mind is, my body’s not,” I replied.
She smiled at that, but it didn’t last. Her eyes flicked to Tarot, then back to me. “We need to move. Weather’s in our favor.”
I nodded. Tarot giggled to himself again. Siren let out a quiet sigh, giving him a look that carried more worry than she wanted to show.
Tarot raised his cup in a lazy toast. “Breakfast, anyone?”
“I’m good,” I said.
We didn’t waste much time after that. Tarot drained the rest of his tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still smiling.
We stepped out into the morning.
The air felt different. The storm had scrubbed it clean, like the world had settled back into place after a rough night. The wind pushed in bursts, shifting direction just enough as we moved west.
Siren took point, eyes scanning everything. Tarot drifted beside the cart for a while, then behind it, then ahead again like he couldn’t quite decide where he belonged. I kept pushing.
“Stronghold’s not far,” Siren said after a while. “Usually takes me a half hour if I don’t get slowed down.”
“What am I walking into?” I asked.
She didn’t answer right away. “CDF,” she said finally. “CryOrg Defense Force. Corpo military. They run the place. They pay so I just do my work. Helps out with our efforts.”
I exhaled slowly. “Yeah… CDF. I’ve heard of them.”
“Then you know,” she said.
“I know enough not to like ‘em.”
“They don’t care,” she replied flatly. “They’ve got resources. Funding. Old-world backing. They’re not trying to survive like everyone else. They’re waiting.”
“For what?”
“A clean slate,” she said. “They’d burn this whole place down if it meant starting over somewhere better.”
“Mars,” Tarot added, sing-song like.
We both looked at him. He was staring off into the distance.
“At least,” he continued, “that’s what they tell themselves.”
“Going-to-Mars, it’s-very-very-fars,” he giggled.
Siren narrowed her eyes. “Tarot.”
He didn’t respond. “Tarot!” she said sharper.
He pointed ahead. “You see that?”
I looked. I didn’t see anything. Just the heat shimmer over the ground. Ripples in the air like a mirage.
“What am I looking at?” I asked.
“They’re not moving,” he whispered. “All of them. Just standing there. Waiting for us…”
Siren stepped in front of him. “What kind of tea? …Tarot! What kind of tea?!”
He blinked, then looked at her. Then smiled again.
“…foxglove,” he said. “And a little yellow mold.”
She stared at him. “Dammit, man! We needed your help today!”
“It helps me think,” he said.
“It’s helping you see things that aren’t there,” Siren snapped. “They’ll never let you through the gate like this.”
Tarot laughed softly. “The gate’s already open for me.”
“It’s not,” she said.
“It is,” he insisted.
Then his expression changed. Sharp and sudden. His eyes flashed to the cart. Then to the droid.
“…no,” he whispered.
I turned to the droid. It hadn’t moved. Tarot screamed.
“It’s on!” he shouted, stumbling backward. “It’s… Brax! It’s awake!”
I grabbed his shoulder. “It’s not…”
He tore free. “Don’t let it get me!” he shouted.
His eyes were wide now. Locked on the droid like it had just stepped off the cart and was coming for him.
“Tarot!”
He tripped, scrambling in the dirt, kicking at nothing. “I don’t wanna die! Not yet!”
I didn’t think. I grabbed my canteen, stepped in, and dumped half of it straight onto his face. The water hit him hard. He gasped, blinking and breathing fast. The panic drained out of him like someone pulled a plug.
He looked at me. Then at Siren. Then around.
“…what?” he said.
Siren crossed her arms. “You’re fucking wasted.”
He wiped his face, confusion settling in where the fear had been. “…I saw it,” he muttered. “I swear I saw it move.”
He looked down at his hands like they weren’t his. Then he looked back the way we’d come.
“…I need to go,” he said.
Siren didn’t argue. “Yeah. You do.”
He nodded once, like that confirmed it. Then he turned and started walking back toward the way we came.
“Hey,” I called after him.
He didn’t stop, he didn’t even look back. He just kept going.
We stood there for a second, watching him shrink into the distance. The wind shifted again, snapping us out of the trace.
“Should we…” I started, pointing to Tarot.
“Leave him,” Siren said.
I looked at her.
“He does this,” she added. “He pushes too far then comes back later like nothing happened. He’s had a rough time of it.”
“You sure we don’t need to go after him?”
She nodded. “He’ll be fine.”
I watched a little longer. Then turned back to the cart.
“…right,” I said. “Let’s keep moving.”
We walked in silence for a bit after that. It felt different somehow. I didn’t like it.
“You care more than you let on,” Siren said after a while.
I glanced at her. “Don’t.”
She smirked. “Just saying.”
“I don’t worry about people,” I said.
“Sure,” she replied.
I didn’t answer that. Instead, I shifted gears.
“So this Stronghold,” I said. “You said you’ve got work there.”
She nodded. “Yeah, we repair anything they might find useful. Salvage integration. Things they don’t want to waste time on, comes to my shop and we try to fix it.”
I gestured to the droid. “Something like this?”
Her eyes followed mine. “Yeah,” she said. “Something exactly like that.”
A thought clicked.
“Wait… Bob,” I said.
She looked at me. “Your friend?”
“Yeah, he’s a tinkerer,” I said. “Always messing with old tech. Fixing things he probably shouldn’t waste his time on.”
She tilted her head. “Yeah, so?”
“Is there another workshop?” I asked. “Is there another shop inside that he might work at?”
She thought for a second. “Yeah. Far side of the Stronghold. They work on long-term stuff. Bigger projects and newer equipment that goes down.”
“Think he might be there?”
“Maybe,” she said. “I know someone over there. Minx. She runs in that crowd.”
I nodded slowly. “My message to Bob… probably hasn’t been delivered yet. Let’s start with her then.”
Siren gave me a sideways look. “So you really came all this way on a ‘maybe,’ huh?”
I shrugged. “He’s a good ‘maybe.’”
The Stronghold rose into view not long after. The towers first, then movement up on the walls. Then the scale of it. It sat there like it owned the land around it. Built from layers of scrap, concrete, and old-world steel. Reinforced over time into something that didn’t care what the world threw at it.
Guns lined the upper edges. Watchers paced slow and steady. CDF flags snapped in the wind. There was definitely money, power and control here.
“New Ashington,” Siren said.
I let out a slow breath.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Time to get serious.”
I adjusted my grip on the cart, glanced down at Ole’ Sixey and squared my shoulders as we walked toward the gates.
“Let’s see what Bob got himself into.”
CHAPTER 9 - SIREN'S PLACE | CHAPTER 11 - THE GATE
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