“Thatta boy, Ashwan. Superstrength. The human body is a frail, weak, easily ruptured thing. These exosuits are not. Rule number two: respect the power of these machines. Mess around in these and you will kill someone. The prototypes for these machines were around when I was a cadet. Those versions were only seventeen times an average human’s strength. I got to witness one cadet jump up as high as he could in an exosuit. Before he smashed into the ceiling, he had a head. Afterward, he had something that resembled a smashed watermelon on top of his neck.”

Tom looked up at the ceiling, intrigued. He figured if he jumped too high, he’d try to punch straight through the ceiling before his head got smashed. That would work. He was sure of it.

“That’s why I’m teaching you the old-fashioned way how to use these,” Blackburn finished, “working on muscle memory with you, not programming exosuit use into your brain. There’s a fundamental difference between a human being and a machine. Human beings think in imprecise terms. ‘A bit’ means something to a person. If I told him to jump thirteen point seven centimeters, however, he would estimate and be wildly off because precise numbers don’t mean much to the standard human brain. Machines, on the other hand, are precision instruments. They don’t understand ‘a little.’ They do understand thirteen point seven centimeters. Using an exosuit properly means learning to be precise with your movements. The sole reason you can use these exosuits safely is because your brains are already part machine, but these are only safe if you’re careful. So pick a suit, hook in, and wait for my instructions.”

After Blackburn’s intro, most trainees approached the exosuits with trepidation. Except Tom. He was excited to give it a shot. He eagerly hopped into his suit, flipped up the neck to connect it with his neural access port, and felt a thrill all over as the machine seemed to awaken around him, the metal legs and arms shrinking down to clasp around his limbs at the joining points. He stood there a beat, wondering if he should wait for everyone else, and he decided not to. He took a great, bounding step forward.

He sailed eight meters with the first leaping stride, six meters with the second, eleven meters with the third. Another couple steps, and Tom realized he was at the other side of the arena. He wanted to live in one of these.

And then he heard several loud clanks of exosuited legs pounding toward him. Before he could whirl around to see who it was, a steel-and-aluminum grip closed around the aluminum band across his collar and jerked him to a complete standstill.

“What do you think you’re doing, Raines?” Blackburn’s voice was furious.

Dread pervaded Tom. He dragged his gaze back to meet Blackburn’s.