Warden 1

by Isaac Hooke

  She was relieved to find a block of ice waiting inside. She could see two rifles frozen together near the bottom. In their bid to disarm Rust Town, the rulers of Aradne had forgotten these weapons after all. Or maybe the sentries had simply succumbed to Hydras.

  Whatever the case, she was happy to relieve the bin of its burden. The only problem now was getting the weapons out of the blocks. But shattering ice would be a lot easier than tearing metal. A bit loud to her liking, but nothing she could do about that.

  She removed the block and held it over her head, ready to break it against the fragmented asphalt that paved the external streets. But before she could do so, she felt water trickling onto her head. The drips came so fast they were almost a gush.

  She lowered the block and to her delight, the ice melted right in front of her, so that in under thirty seconds she was cradling the two rifles it contained.

  She lowered them to the asphalt and turned her attention to the bin once more.

  I want them all.

  Not that it would do any good against these Hydras, she reminded herself. Still, it would make her feel better.

  She considered ripping the container wider, but that seemed a bit counterproductive to her. Not to mention loud.

  She quietly padded over to one of the bordering buildings and grabbed several broken bricks from in front of it. She stowed them in her pack. Then she returned to the bin and tossed one of the bricks into the waiting liquid. She wasn’t sure this would work—if the bin was equipped with a scanner, it might reject the brick for not being a weapon.

  But a moment later the liquid froze, encasing the building fragment in a block of ice; the servo mechanisms attempted to close the non-existent lid as a new liquid-filled cavity swiveled into view.

  She returned to the second opening she’d made in the casing. Sure enough, a new ice block had rotated into place, containing a fresh weapon. She removed it and the weapon promptly thawed out.

  She kept placing the bricks into the bin one by one, causing the next ice block to cycle through, and in that manner retrieved the weapons. Eventually the internal conveyor belt began to carry her own frozen bricks into the second opening, which she ignored.

  Shortly after that, fresh liquid stopped appearing in the main cavity, and instead a frozen block containing a weapon appeared. Apparently, the conveyor belt had wrapped around—she’d exhausted the bin’s storage capacity. She removed the block, letting it melt, and the next frozen weapon promptly rotated into view. She continued taking them, and very soon she’d relieved the bin of all its confiscated weapons.

  With a grin she began to sort through them. She was able to look up the specs on the Net—at least weapons data hadn’t been suppressed from the population.

  There were a wide variety of weapons, from pistols to rifles to energy knives, and even a bladed weapon. The latter was a bit of an antique, according to the Net, intended for extreme close-range fights. Called the X2-59, it was essentially a cylindrical guard the wearer attached to the wrist, which could deploy and retract the blade at will. Apparently, the metal was made of a special material that allowed it to fold up inside the guard. When deployed, it was enveloped by plasma generated by electrolasers.

  Since energy weapons had little effect on the Hydras, the X2-59 might be something worth considering, especially after she’d seen the Hydras physically tussle with one another. Then again, she hadn’t actually seen them inflict any harm, except to push one another out of the way. Sure, a Hydra had screamed when the tendrils from one of its brethren had struck its underside, but those were stinging tentacles, not pieces of metal. There was no guarantee the blade would even be able to penetrate the thick scales. Also, using it meant she’d have to get in extremely close, which was a big downside to fighting with it in and of itself.

  A weapon to be used only as a last resort, I think.

  She stowed the X2-59 into her pack alongside the other weapons, intending to give them out to the residents at the appropriate time. She kept the most powerful weapon for herself, a rifle called the Dupra-Linx 32, or DL-32. It could fire burst attacks that had roughly five times the intensity of the energy bolts her original pistol generated, though the drawback was a reduced firing rate. The DL-32 had a strap, so she hung it from her right shoulder.

  She glanced at the empty holster on her hips, then fetched the most powerful pistol from the backpack and slid it into her belt, figuring she might as well keep a backup for herself since she had the holder.

  Then she climbed the ruins of one of the taller buildings on that street, not far from the wall. It was a mid-rise apartment that had partially collapsed. When she reached the jagged upper portion, she sat on the building frame, letting her feet dangle over the edge. She gazed out across the ruins before her and waited. From her vantage point, she could partly see the rocky plains beyond, between the skyscrapers on the far side of the ruins.

  She searched for the scouts she’d encountered earlier, but there was no sign of them. And so, in the coming minutes she began to doubt herself. Was she making the right choice? More importantly, were the bioweapons even coming at all? She didn’t let herself dare hope the Hydras would leave the settlement untouched. They were coming. And as for making the right choice, all she knew was that she couldn’t run away like Will and Horatio. She had chosen this battle, and now she had to fight it.

  She wondered if Will was right with his Karnator theory. That when she died, she would be reborn as a bioweapon, or perhaps an alien on the far side of the galaxy, with all memories of this life gone. Rebirth like that wasn’t so different from what had happened to her already, when she’d awakened after a mind wipe, so she supposed there should be nothing to fear.

  Even so, while it was a slightly comforting thought, it was also terrifying. She wasn’t sure whether she would prefer nothingness to an endless life of random rebirths. Although… she imagined some sort of presence, conscious or otherwise, would be required to govern the many forms of life that existed throughout the universe, so the infinite rebirths the Karnators believed in made sense in a twisted sort of way. If it was true, what troubled her the most was coming back as something completely foreign to human consciousness. She wasn’t even thinking about life on another planet… what if she returned as a plant, for example? Or an insect?

  And so her thoughts continued to roil and wander as she watched the plains beyond the ruins. The seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes became hours.

  Though she was outside the settlement, because of her height, she still had a relatively good connection to the Net. Thus she was able to livestream everything. Unfortunately, only one or two viewers joined her stream as the hours passed, and whenever she tried talking to them, to warn them, without fail they promptly left.

  And then, finally, a dust cloud appeared, stretching from horizon to horizon on the plains beyond the broken skyscrapers.

  The bioweapons had arrived.

  She sent a final message to Bardain.

  “They’re here.”

  28

  Rhea watched in trepidation for several moments, unable to move from her perch atop the building frame. Entranced by that growing cloud, she watched it spread across the plains like a disease, blackening the land before it.

  When the cloud reached the perimeter of the ruins, she decided it was time to act.

  She swung herself off the edge of the building and began clambering down its exterior. She descended rapidly, and when she was three stories from the street, she leaped the rest of the way to the asphalt.

  Her servos hummed in protest at the impact, but she ignored them and raced through the gap in the Texas barrier. She considered closing the heavy walls behind her but doing so would do little to hold back what was out there anyway, considering the Hydras could surmount the barriers with a single step.

  She sprinted through the streets of Rust Town, shouting: “Bioweapons! Bioweapons! We’re under attack! Run!” She amplified her voice to the maximum possib
le volume. She also broadcast over a public channel, piggybacking on the settlement’s wireless network, though it was doubtful any would be tuned in. A loud voice was the best way to get her message across at the moment.

  The security cameras attached to each home snapped toward her, but otherwise no one emerged.

  She dashed toward the closest lean-to and yelled at the camera: “Bioweapons! Get out!” Not waiting for a response, she hurried to the building beside it and issued the same message to the waiting cam. She also rapped her hands on the dingy wall for good measure.

  Her hood fell away as she dashed to the next lean-to, but she didn’t bother to replace it. Let them see who she was. She knocked on the door and yelled. “Bioweapons are coming! Run!”

  She spotted a group of children in worn clothes nearby and sprinted to them. “Tell your parents to run! Quickly! And if they won’t listen to you, promise me you’ll get out of here.” The children merely stared at her, unblinking. “Promise!”

  The children nodded in fright.

  “Now tell them!” Rhea said.

  The children ran away, splitting into two groups. The doors of the respective homes they fled to opened as they arrived, slamming shut behind them.

  They’re not going to listen…

  Rhea was about to run toward one of those lean-tos and try again, when beside her a door opened and an unshaven, shirtless man stood in the entrance. He was old, pale, and weak, with a long gray beard that reached to his hairy chest. He had a big wart on his nose.

  “What are you ranting about, cyborg?” the man said. “You shouldn’t be walking these streets so plainly. Do you want to wind up a pile of spare parts on some salvager’s desk?”

  “Bioweapons are coming!” She pointed at the Texas wall behind her. “You have to run!”

  The man glanced that way, then shook his head and shut the door.

  Rhea rapped on the lean-to loudly.

  “Go away!” the old man shouted from within.

  “Just take a look!” she said. “Please!”

  A pause. Then: “Fine. If it will shut you up, I’ll be out in a second. Let me throw on a shirt.”

  She moved on to the next door, and the next. She managed to convince two more men—just as old as the other—to leave their houses, and in a few moments, she was making her way back with the three toward the gate.

  She wasn’t really sure what good it would do to have these three witness the coming calamity, but at least it felt like she was doing something. Maybe they held some sway in this community and could help her spread the word.

  “Hurry!” she called over her shoulder.

  “We’re coming,” the old man with the wart on his nose said, panting. “Some of us aren’t used to walking this far, you know.”

  “Farthest I’ve stepped from my house in years!” another agreed. He wore big AR goggles over his eyes.

  “You know, I’m surprised security hasn’t come to collect her,” the third man said.

  “Security!” Wart Nose said. “Good one! We haven’t had any security around here since, well, I can’t even remember!”

  She was keenly aware that bioweapons were racing toward the settlement at that very moment, and she half expected the gate to come crashing down on them at any moment. Then again, given how big the creatures were, she would have ample warning.

  They reached the gate. Goggle Eyes started for the gap, but she said: “No. Get on these tires. You’ll have a better view.”

  She beckoned toward several discarded tires that formed makeshift ramps on either side of the gate.

  “I can’t climb that,” Wart Nose complained.

  “Here.” Rhea grabbed him and another man, hoisting them under each arm like sandbags, then leaped from tire to tire until she was at the top of the barrier. Then she lowered the men.

  “That was fun,” Wart Nose said. “Can we do it again?”

  She ignored him and was about to clamber back down to help the third man, when she discovered he was already scaling the tires on the other side of the gap.

  “No sentries…” Goggle Eyes said from beside her. He was looking straight down into the broken street past the gate.

  “Probably snatched by one of the local parts collectors,” Wart Nose said, presumably for Rhea’s benefit. “Happens from time to time. Same fate will befall this cyborg here if she keeps calling attention to herself.”

  “Why are the streets so dusty out there?” the third man asked.

  Apparently, he had a better view from where he stood, because Rhea couldn’t see any sign of the bioweapons, not yet at least.

  A moment later a cloud of dust spilled into view, filling the air between two skyscrapers that were three blocks away. Rhea hadn’t been sure the bioweapons would be able to maintain their dust cover within the city, considering they’d have to spread out, but apparently staying relatively close together was all that was needed to maintain the stealth field.

  “Gritstorm,” Wart Nose said.

  “The weather systems are supposed to prevent Gritstorms from getting this close,” the third man insisted.

  Wart Nose shrugged. “The weather system fails from time to time.”

  “Since when are Gritstorms so close to the ground?” Goggle Eyes asked.

  The Texas barrier in front of them began shaking. The old men glanced at the quivering wall in turn.

  “That’s no Gritstorm,” the third man said.

  The shaking became stronger as the seconds passed; the ruined buildings on either side of the road ahead were trembling visibly, too, and fragments broke away as Rhea watched, tumbling down to join the rubble below.

  And then, on the far side of the street, a lone Hydra rounded the intersection and stampeded directly for the Texas barrier. It was a moderate specimen, almost as tall as some of the low-rise ruins next to the creature; its multiple maws snarled visibly, and one of the leonine heads roared when it sighted the four of them.

  “Bioweapon!” Wart Nose screamed.

  Rhea scooped up Wart Nose and Goggle Eyes and leaped down. She was going to grab the third man as well, but realized she didn’t have time, not if she wanted to save these two.

  She dashed from the Texas barriers, racing through the streets of the settlement.

  “Bioweapons!” Wart Nose yelled. “The mad cyborg woman was right! Run for your lives!”

  No doubt the settlement residents could feel the ground shaking by now, because nearby doors began to open.

  Behind Rhea, the Texas barriers collapsed beneath the lead Hydra. The abandoned man was trampled underfoot. Other bioweapons burst into the settlement after the creature and crushed the remnants of the barriers in the process. A random piece of concrete spiraled forward, crashing into an onlooker standing at his door and throwing him into his home, which promptly caved.

  People screamed. Some darted into the streets after Rhea. Other residents simply shut their doors, perhaps hoping the bioweapons would leave them alone. Or maybe they simply planned to collect their remaining family members before attempting an escape.

  Some doors never opened at all. Glancing back, Rhea saw a Hydra rip an entire lean-to right into the air, leaving behind a shirtless man strapped into a spherical VR harness. He seemed unaware that his house was gone and continued interacting obliviously with his full-body harness. A second head snatched him into the air a moment later, chewed twice, and swallowed.

  Those in the street fared little better. Every few seconds another resident was promptly grabbed by one of the many heads and devoured. Either that, or they were trampled underfoot.

  “I have to go back for my wife!” Goggle Eyes said.

  “It’s too late,” Rhea said. “You can’t save her.”

  The man squirmed in Rhea’s grasp, and punched her twice in the side, but Rhea only tightened her grip.

  Goggle Eyes wept. “Please, let me go!”

  “If you go back, you’ll die,” she explained gently.

  “Maybe I want to die,
if it means a life without the woman I love,” Goggle Eyes said.

  Rhea considered that.

  If he wants to die…

  “Then go,” she said coldly.

  She released him and scooped up another old man who was running just ahead.

  “You let him go!” Wart Nose said.

  “Yes,” Rhea agreed.

  “You can’t listen to him!” Wart Nose said. “He’s distraught. His state of mind all messed up!”

  “I gave him what he wanted,” Rhea said grimly. “I can’t save everyone. Especially those who don’t want to be saved.”

  “Who are you?” the new old man asked.

  “Your rescuer,” she replied.

  “Can we go back for my wife?” the newcomer pressed.

  Rhea clenched her jaw. “No.”

  She returned her attention to the fore and narrowed her eyes, focusing on Aradne’s distant wall, her destination, ahead.

  Rhea had planned to dart into a byway or alley, but with so many people out there providing fresh targets, she decided the main street was safe enough, at least for now. She continued to run directly for the walls of Aradne, located about ten blocks ahead. The two men she carried weighed her down, but she forced her servos to work overtime, hoping against hope that her body wouldn’t fail her now.

  The main street widened as she reached a market square, and she tore past other panicking citizens. Glancing back, she watched the foremost Hydras spread out and begin feasting behind her. She felt a moment of guilt for not stopping to help them. Or even trying.

  Can’t save them all, she reminded herself.

  If only they had listened to her. If only they had run when she had told them to.

  But of course, it wasn’t their fault. They had no reason to believe her warning. No one did.

  She considered replacing the two old men with some of the younger men and women she saw fleeing out there, but she knew that with proper care, these two could live for at least another twenty years, or even longer if they could ever afford to transfer their minds into cyborgs.