The Exosuit

It looks like a suit of armor. Dark matte colors and unforgiving curved surfaces abound. The cloth sheathing is crumpled in the corner. I’m in the mechanic’s bay of my lab, there is no need to proclaim where my loyalty lies, as I’m the only one here. The bare exosuit hangs from anchors in the ceiling.

As the exosuit is matte, the lab is bright and shiny. The exosuit is dark chocolate brown, the lab is dominated by teal and light blues. The colors I’ve been wearing outside lately are beige and brown. Neutral flags, for I belong to none, so none will have me. As a result, I can go through many territories, but it is understood I can expect no help from others unless I pay for the priviledge.

The carapace is exposed. Large plates of armor on the floor beside me. The interior sheathing opened like a pinned moth. I’m scooping out handfulls of horrid smelling goop. Much of the interior had deteriorated and had never been completely cleaned. Only emergency kits were keeping the exosuit functional. Had I been struck over the broken area, the exosuit would have failed. I would be immobile at best, and dead soon after.

While the suit was entirely mechanical, the decay was from acid leaking through flaws in the outer armor. Accumulating between armor and interior sheathing, it collected and ate away at various components. It looked like I was extruding infection. It certainly smelled like it.

“There’s too much damage. This suit is crippled and can never be fully repaired.” “You know, you can upgrade to a better suit at any time. Granted, to register the new suit, you have to abandon your homestead and start over, but hey, new exosuit!” “Yea, sure, I can fix it for you. Even make it better. But you’ll have to pay me back, and not in credits, either. What do you mean, indentured slavery!” Those that either noticed the damage, or had looked at it gave me many responses. Most of them were disheartening.

“It’s fixable. But the damage is extensive. Each exosuit is tailored to its wearer, so someone else isn’t going to do as deep a job as you doing it yourself. It will take time, though. And dedication. But, yes, it’s fixable.” He pointed me to a friend of his for a second opinion. She agreed and gave me a set of tools to help.

So, here I am, back in my lab. One tool grounded all the live circuitry. One tool restored the cracks in the armor. One tool showed me how extensive the decay was and which components needed replacing. There were two other tools, but their use and purpose completely escaped me. I had never seen them before. So I started with what I knew, and kept on.

Between the damage and the emergency kits used to keep the exosuit functional, I was too busy trying to keep up with obligations to really see how bad things had become. As I pulled out destroyed sensory circuits, I saw how blind I really was. I could barely see, had almost no tactile sensation, and my environment scanners were giving me false information. No wonder many told me to either get a new suit, or place myself under the rule of a clan for protection.

Finally, cleaned out. Or rather, the best I can do at the moment. This isn’t going to be a one shot job. The external armor absorbed a lot of acid over the years, and while it wasn’t as affected, it will continue to leach acid for some time. The work of neutralizing it is also slow and steady, but it can be done. It will be done.

A few emergency kits reapplied. Some new components installed. Well, the only thing left to do is put it on and try it out. Those that gave me the tools warned me, that I had become used to the faults of the damaged suit. I’ll instinctively try to move as if I’m still crippled. But because the suit will have been fixed, I’ll wind up fighting the suit itself.

“Expect to fall. Often. Sometimes, you’ll fall several times before you are able to just stand. Do not take this as a setback. It means your exosuit is working better. You have to retrain yourself how to function in it.”

At first the suit feels abnormally large around me. I realize, it’s more towards the comfort level it was supposed to be in the first place. It had become pinched as it was damaged, but now I have room! Room to move. Room to breathe.

Oh, I left that tool on the floor. I’d better pick it up before I step on it. I’ll just lean over and…

~crash~

I lost my balance? I never lose my balance! I can dance on the head of a pin in this suit! The hell? I struggle to my feet, quite unsteady and wobbling. Just as I was told, the problem isn’t the suit’s remaining damage. The problem is I was still accustomed to the extra machinations I had to perform to get the damaged suit to function properly. I was trying to walk without a cast, after wearing it for years.

I realize if I make too many fixes, too fast, the suit will be so different in its response, I will likely hurt myself on the unforgiving surface. I have to make a change, repair a piece, adjust to that, then move on to the next component.

I remove the suit, and hang it back on the mechanic anchors. Opening the carapace again, I find fresh damage from the acid I wasn’t able to completely clean out. This will be a regular event, I see. Fixing old wounds and preventing the new ones from festering. But, it is doable.

Wiping out the carapace again, I look over the last two tools given to me. I still have no idea what their function are, or how they even mesh with the exosuit’s components. They feel strange in my hands. I hold them together and hover them over the exposed components. Perhaps if I can identify a matching socket, I can infer from that how they are used.

The two tools, start to hum, like tuning forks. From within the exposed cavity, I hear an echoing sound. But the returning echo is dischordant, like an out of tune trumpet. The sound makes my ear itch. Frustrated, I start to throw the tools back in the bag, but my ear catches something different.

The tools have changed pitch slightly to match the exosuit’s third note. Where before, a minor chord made my ears itch, I now hear a major chord in a different key. I continue holding the sonic tools for some time, delighting in the pure tones they emit. Then I realized, the tools were changing pitch again. Very, very subtly. I had to strain to hear it. But the tools had raised the pitch ever so slightly. The tone emited by the exosuit, while broken and wavering, had also raised in pitch to keep the chord a major tone.

I realized then what the two tools were doing. They were tuning the exosuit. The original tones I heard where what the exosuit should have emitted. But because of the damage, it is off key. The two tools were slowly, delicately, retuning the exosuit.

I sat and listened in wonder for a while, then realized I had a lot of crow to eat. When I was told about the tuning tools before, I scoffed. It sounded too fantastical, even for the alien world we were in. But here they were, doing just what I had been told they would do.

First person to say, “I told you so.”, get a fist full from me.

It was a lot of work, and I managed to bruise my hands and arms in the process, but I did get a lot of the muck cleaned out. I put the tools away and cleaned up my mess. Depositing the remnants into the incinerator to be burned away later.

I suited up, practicing walking around the lab for several laps. As warned, I fell often and roughly. I wondered why I bothered to fix something so terribly broken, then realized how much I was able to interact with the exosuit now. It wasn’t completely fixed, but it was a noticeable improvement.

It took some wobbly steps, but I managed to get used to the improved exosuit after all. I wanted to try and fix some more, but there were obligations I had to keep and a home to maintain. Time to get going then.

Walking with a steadier gait, I entered the airlock chamber that kept my habitable space separate from the destruction outside. Sealed the inner door. As the chamber pressurized, I thought about the cracks in the armor I was not able to seal. They hadn’t failed so far, and now that I was aware of them, I could reinforce the interior sheathing until I was able to seal them. The light above the exterior door changed from red to green. The airlock chamber had reached equilibrium with the outside.

I opened the door, and stepped through.

~~~

The bright sunlight flooded my face, reminding me I had forgotten to put the blinds down last night. As I sat up in my bed, I looked about, somewhat disoriented.

Oh yea, it was just a dream.

Make of that, what you may.