Curving from the fleet parking area across the front of the Shatterdome was a broad tarmac with hydraulic lifts at its waterfront side. Jaegers rode those down into the water for local deployments and training exercises in the relatively shallow waters around the islands. Each elevator platform was a rectangle roughly forty by thirty yards in size, giving a Jaeger plenty of room to stand clear of the deck as the platform descended toward the water level.
Beyond the elevator platforms, on the far side of the installation from the Jumphawk parking, the tarmac narrowed and curved into a long arm, supported over the water by immense steel-reinforced concrete pilings. Here were four external staging gantries, where Jaegers stood while they were linked to Jumphawks for deployment. Elevators ran up the interior of the gantries, which were made of heavy girders. At the side of each gantry stood a control tower, staffed by J-Tech supervisors tasked with making final readiness checks once the Rangers were inside each Jaeger and it was powering up for action.
The exterior tarmac area was bustling with activity. Tech crews ran refueling hoses out to waiting Jumphawk transports, while other crews ran carts of supplies and machinery to various destinations in the complex. Everything was tightly controlled and perfectly synchronized, thanks to the crew’s superb training. Jake remembered the scene from his previous life as a cadet. He’d been amazed then at how such a giant facility could run so smoothly, and he felt some of that amazement again now.
The carrier came in low past a stand of old rocket thrusters in a row at the edge of the tarmac. When it landed, Jake and Amara stepped out, duffel bags slung over their shoulders. They’d already been issued gear back in California.
Amara was nervous, and showed it by talking nonstop. She’d commented on the size of the transport, the size of the Shatterdome, the size of the Pacific Ocean, and now that they were on the ground she finally got to what was really on her mind. “Why me? I mean why do they want me for the program?”
Jake didn’t know for sure, but he could guess. “Built and piloted your own Jaeger,” he said. “Don’t see that every day.”
As if he’d conjured it, Scrapper came into view right then, suspended between two Jumphawks. They’d followed the personnel transport across the Pacific, but this was the first time Amara had been able to lay eyes on her creation since November Ajax disabled it back in Santa Monica.
The Jumphawks hovered low over the tarmac and released the cables holding Scrapper. The little Jaeger dropped and landed solidly on its feet… then tottered and fell face down with a loud crash. “Hey!” Amara protested, as crews ran to reattach cables so the Jumphawks could set Scrapper on its feet again. “Be careful with Scrapper!”
Jake was about to tell her it would be all right, since the Shatterdome techs would be doing a complete refit of Scrapper the minute they got the little Jaeger into a hangar gantry—but he didn’t have the chance, because an old familiar voice cut through the din of Jumphawk rotors and shouting techs.
“Will you look at this?”
The voice belonged to Ranger Nathan Lambert, the strapping, square-jawed poster boy for the Ranger service… and once upon a time Jake’s partner. He was wearing a military tank top, managing to walk with a swagger that made his dog tags jingle even though he carried a heavy gear assembly in both hands. “Didn’t believe it when they told me you were inbound,” he said, addressing Jake.
“Nate.” Jake nodded. “This is Cadet Amara Namani—”
“You’ll address me as Ranger Lambert,” Nate interrupted.
Jake paused. “You having a laugh?”
“This is a military base,” Lambert said, dead serious. “Remember how those work, Ranger Pentecost?” Turning to Amara, he lightened up a little. “Welcome to the Shatterdome. This is where you learn how to save the world.”
He strode off toward the open bay doors that led into the Shatterdome. Jake followed, Amara right next to him.
“Did that haircut just call you Pentecost?” she asked incredulously. “As in badass Stacker Pentecost, pilot of Coyote Tango, hero of—”
“It’s just a name,” Jake said. He was still stewing over Nate’s snub. Clearly Nate was holding a grudge about how Jake had left the Ranger program, but that was Nate’s problem. The only way it would be Jake’s problem was if Nate couldn’t let it go.
“A really cool name,” Amara said, looking at Jake in a whole new way. Jake didn’t like it. He didn’t want her to admire him. He didn’t want anyone to admire him. “Explains why you got a golden ticket,” Amara added.
This got under Jake’s skin. He didn’t see any golden ticket. He saw a one-way ticket back into a life he’d tried his best to get away from. “You know, moving forward, let’s limit the conversation, okay?”
He could feel her eyes on him as they followed Lambert through the thirty-story-tall ocean-facing hangar doors that led into the Shatterdome’s Jaeger bay. Amara forgot all about Jake and goggled at the sight. Just inside the door, Valor Omega was docking into her service cradle. Jake took a long look at her, remembering his own training, when most of these Jaegers were either still under construction or completing their pre-deployment final technical screenings. Valor Omega was all about firepower, her whole torso designed around massive arms and shoulders ending in forearm-mounted energy cannons. Orange and yellow against a black layer of ballistic under-armor, she made Jake think of fire.
Looking around the vast bay, he saw the rest of Moyulan’s complement of Jaegers. There was heavy, broad-shouldered Titan Redeemer, her left
