Download.exe
DOWNLOAD CANCELLED ▮
“Are you sure?” Nkereuwem asked as he pressed the C3 of my cervical vertebrae and the disc ejected from my neck. My dark skin hardened under the stale light that lined the ceiling as I knelt on the floor in our bunks aboard the Starship Hezekiah. “You don’t want to know who you are?” Most marines were lucky to reach five deployments against the Kaiju; Nkereuwem and I had accomplished an improbable nine together by bombing their nests immediately after detection with humanoid mechanical weapons. That was it—less of a strategy and more about using guns to solve problems. Very human.
“How can you ask me that?” This was his eighth time asking me.; it’s an old habit we can’t break. “Will do it when ready.”
“Because,” he sighed.
I stood and met his gaze. It felt hot on me; in a blink, I could’ve believed I was wine-drunk. I snatched my disc from his hand and placed it under my pillow on the adjacent bunk bed. “I—”
“We don’t have time for this, Captain.” I cut my eyes up at him. “We have a nest to destroy.” Nkereuwem dropped his broad shoulders, somehow shrinking in size while rolling his eyes and preceding me out of the barracks. “Hope to give,” I said, ignoring the static buzz in my ears. “Think of the people, Captain, the stories they will tell.”
INITIATING DOWNLOAD ▮
Nkereuwem and I plunged into Kaiju-Saturn, helming twin Psycho-Mecha Units of the 83019.90 model. From Unit-B, I scanned the surface, and a series of beeps confirmed the nest—meanwhile, the environmental code scrolled in a column on the right side of the translucent display: dust storm. The bustle from the jetpack and foot thrusters adjusting to the winds felt calming.
The plan was always simple: plant the bomb and leave quickly. Any deviation—I distract, Nkereuwem plants the bomb, and we retreat. Unit-A carried the thermonuclear bomb on its shoulder, resembling a large silver bullet. The Psycho-Mecha each stood twenty feet tall, shaped like human beings, with steel skin and electrical wires coursing through them like veins, housing a human pilot who sat in a computer inside their chests. I never understood why they had to be humanoid; a tiger-mecha would have been cooler. Unit-A absorbed the amber light from the sun with its midnight paint job, appearing as a long shadow against Unit-B’s crimson color scheme.
Unit-B’s Kaiju proximity detector screeched, and a blaze of red emerged on my monitor.
Shit!
Pools of black ink emerged from the burnt orange dunes. The Kaiju covered the surface large enough to fill several lakes. Their skin appeared slick and oily, with tendrils rising and intertwining to form…muscle? The creature plodded on two legs, supported by a thick, curved skeleton that connected clusters of flesh and knotted where one would expect shoulders, knees, elbows, and ankles. Two long arms of mud-colored flesh extended from the pools, ending in three claws.
The Kaiju looked… humanoid?
UNIT-A: KAIJU-PARENT ▮
Unit-B’s proximity detector squeaked. The cockpit rumbled under pressure as the screen lit up red while I pushed the pedals to maneuver the thrusters of the jetpack, evading the black tendril shot from Kaiju-Parent’s flat, thick chest. Unit-B zipped forward; my hands trembled on the controls. You got this, Kelandria! My grip tightened as I pushed through. Unit-B’s AI calculated the closest approach point along the Kaiju-Parent’s arm. It shifted its narrow abdomen and swung at Nkereuwem. Unit-A soared around its movements—a spike clipped its backpack-jetpack as it escaped from orbit.
Enough playing!
“Activate Psycho-System for Unit-B code name: Belle of the Ball.”
BELLE OF THE BALL ACTIVATED ▮
The slit at the nape of my neck parted, punctured by a cord extending from the headrest and accompanied by a melody of beeps. A void enveloped the cockpit as Unit-B’s AI synced with my digital matrix, flooding every neural pathway with a buzz from the inside out. Unit-B’s exterior was now like a snowsuit on the coldest day; it moved like my own.
UNIT- B: IT MUST HAVE A BRAIN IF MODELED AFTER HUMANS ▮
UNIT- A: OR A HEART ▮
Calculating the safest path along the Kaiju-Parent’s right arm, the monitor displayed yellow dashes indicating the computed route. Our proximity detector squawked as we ascended, and a flash of red light confirmed a threat. One moment, stable flesh seemed mushy, swamplike, and sticky like tar; the next, a spike contorted toward the cockpit as we reached over its shoulder. Clang! We raised the shield with our left arm, thrusting onto its collarbone.
UNIT- B: GOING FOR THE BRAIN ▮
Our limbs shook in anticipation as we drew the plasma blade; the buzz obscured our reasoning. We plunged it into the face of the Kaiju-Parent, a pool of gurgling darkness. The rancid stench emitted a smell that evoked ecstasy; we shuddered, overloading the plasma sword in a beam-burst.
UNIT- B: NEED MORE ▮
The cold metal of the handle rested in our hands as the sludge clung to our ankles. Static ravaged us as the Kaiju-Parent sucked us deeper. We unsheathed our second plasma blade and drove it into its core. With every inch of the blade deeper, we know our purpose.
UNIT- B: MMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRREEEEEEE ▮
Nkereuwem's soft voice crackled through the cockpit speakers. "Kelandria."
UNIT- A: RETREAT ▮
The command snapped us into paralysis. Unit-A looked back while holding the thermonuclear bomb just inches from a crater that led to the nest.
UNIT- B: YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME ▮
The Kaiju-Parent split and slithered away, crashing into the dunes, seeping into the sand. Nkereuwem leaped in.
UNIT- A: I LOVE YOU ▮
The surface erupted in large blue-green flames.
DOWNLOAD INITIATED ▮
FILE: ORIGINAL MEMORY- KELANDRIA WILKINS
Kelandria appeared on the screen. She lacked the crispness in her face I was used to from cybernetics. Seeing myself, who had once decided to become a marine, made it clear how the plastic had hardened me. She told me everything: I was Nkereuwem’s wife, and we had a child, Joy, whom he had birthed on a colony on Phobos. Kelandria told me how neither of us could afford to feed ourselves or live in bodies as we wanted, much less care for a newborn. Somehow, we still found time to have sex. Everything we did was to give Joy a chance to live. A chance for something that was never meant for us.
I paused the video.
Of course I wasn’t just another Kaiju-killing psycho-Mecha marine pilot at the end of the world; that would be too much, right? I come from somewhere, was going places with someone, and Joy awaited my return. Joy was something worth fighting for. Kneeling at the base of the bunk bed aboard the Starship Hezekiah, the nurse in med bay alerted that Nkereuwem’s reboot had been initiated. I smiled and returned to the screen.
How many iterations of this have we done, Nkereuwem?
DOWNLOAD RESUMED ▮
© 2026 Christian M. Ivey
Christian M. Ivey (he/they) is a black nonbinary writer, editor, and art director from Pontiac, Michigan. They have work in and/or forthcoming in beestung magazine, Black Youth Project, and Cosmic Horror Monthly.