by Isaac Hooke
The truth was the oceans were overtaxed after supplying water to trillions of people for the past few centuries. The seas were running dry, and Aradne wanted to conserve as much of the valuable liquid as possible for its own citizens. Of course, none of this had actually been revealed to the city’s population, or to any city for that matter; anyone who mentioned the diminishing ocean levels was banned from social media for life, their words scrubbed from the blogs and streaming sites of the Net not long after they were published, courtesy of advanced monitoring AIs.
So even rerouting some of the water into Rust Town was only a stopgap measure at best and would only help the settlement for so long. Eventually, all the cities of Earth would run out of water and they’d need to find an alternate source. But Rhea had to focus on the smaller, more achievable goals at the moment.
Around her many of the lean-tos and cargo containers had been repaired since the bioweapon attack, though there were still countless heaps of debris between them, marking the sites of former homes. 3D-printing drones sifted through the ruins, occasionally recovering dead bodies, but otherwise the small flying machines processed the debris into sheets of metal for the humans, cyborgs and robots to use in the construction of new lean-tos or to repair the more intact ones. In theory, the drones could have printed the cargo containers and so forth entirely from scratch, but complicated designs required a lot more time to form; a much faster throughput could be achieved by printing simple sheets and sharing the workload with more prehensile entities.
Dead Hydras were still scattered throughout the city. Groups of people and machines towed the corpses to different piles where they awaited burning. Early on, someone discovered the creatures were edible—which wasn’t surprising, given they were crafted from the DNA of many animals—and large chunks of meat had been cut away to feed the masses. Some of the more enterprising individuals had drained the blood and converted it to water for resale as well. But otherwise the carcasses were too big to put on ice, considering how few storage facilities remained intact within the settlement, and the remaining meat was quickly going bad. Hence the need for burning.
The makeshift pyres rarely reached a heat high enough to turn the bones to ash, and some people used them to create foundations for new lean-tos and other buildings, while the remainder were discarded in the Outlands. A few of the more twisted inhabitants had cut off the heads of several bioweapons and impaled them on flagpole-style pikes outside the rebuilt Texas barriers as a warning to any other creatures that might come this way. Rhea doubted it would have any effect if more Hydras arrived—in fact, it would probably only enrage them—but the gruesome displays certainly seemed to boost settlement morale.
Rhea passed a Hydra corpse that was lying next to the path. At that very moment a man was chopping off one of its multiple heads. He carried a rather large laser cutter, and his corded forearms were currently steeped in blood. He was a Robo, judging from the extra pair of robotic limbs he sported.
“You know, I’m still pissed that I missed the battle of the century,” Brinks said. “I had to watch what went down here on the streaming networks, and I couldn’t do a thing. I felt so useless. I would’ve hopped onto the first flight to Rust Town, but I knew I’d never arrive in time.” Brinks was from Stables, a settlement in the Midwest. The Wardenite was rather short and squat, with a wattle of skin dangling beneath his chin; Rhea doubted he would have held up very well when the bioweapons had come. But while his fighting capabilities might not be up to par, he was loyal to a fault.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get your chance to fight again.” Will nodded at Rhea. “Hang around her long enough, you’ll see.”
“She has a propensity to attract trouble,” Horatio agreed.
“I do not,” Rhea said.
“I’m telling you, if I had been here, what that dude is doing to the dead Hydra, I’d be doing to a live one,” Brinks bragged.
“What, mating with it?” Chuck quipped. The barrel-chested man had no neck—or rather, it was consumed by his enormous trapezius muscles, making it almost look like his chiseled face was directly attached to the torso. His low body fat gave his face a gaunt appearance, while it made the rest of his body appear substantially ripped. Rhea had caught a glimpse of Chuck shirtless one time, and she very much liked what she saw. He used some kind of performance enhancing drugs to maintain that physique with no physical effort on his part. At least she assumed so, because she never saw him exercising. The heavy AR lenses he wore magnified his eyes, reminding Rhea of Bardain, her former mentor who had died trying to protect her during the bioweapon attack.
Brinks rolled his eyes. “No. Killing it, bro.”
“Don’t call me bro, Stick Arms,” Chuck said. That was basically what Chuck called everyone else, as very few had biceps to match him. Excerpt Rhea of course. He called her Warden.
“You talk a good talk,” Miles told Brinks. “But I wonder how you’d act if the bioweapons truly attacked again. Would you run or would you hide?” Miles was an albino, and his extremely pale skin burned badly when exposed to sunlight. As such, he was always seen wearing a wide-brimmed hat. That pallid skin, combined with the thin nose, big eyes and round face made him look very much like a mouse to Rhea. But perhaps his most glaring feature was the dark sphere protruding above the hat he wore: Miles was an Orber, one of those people who carried an orb camera permanently attached to the head, giving him three-hundred-and-sixty-degree vision.
“I’d neither run nor hide,” Brinks intoned, raising his chin ever so slightly. “I’d fight, of course.”
Miles laughed, and cracks formed along the smile lines of the albino’s face. “So you say. If by ‘fight’ you mean launching a few energy attacks from the air while you sit safe and cozy in a flyer beyond their reach, then maybe I can see it.”
“What I’m wondering is how that Robo is able to cut off the head at all.” Chuck nodded at the man sitting astride the Hydra’s neck with the laser cutter. “He’s using an energy weapon. I thought these Hydras were supposed to absorb energy.”
“Certain forms, yes,” Horatio told him. “But when they die, their dermis cells lose the ability to absorb attacks. At least according to the biologists we have looking at them. This matches up with the empirical evidence we have, as witnessed by our friend here cutting off the head with the laser cutter.”
“I heard a few Hydras were captured alive…” Brinks said. He sneezed then, causing the lobes of flesh hanging beneath his chin to jiggle.
Horatio nodded that polycarbonate head. “We had a few, but what was left of them didn’t last very long.”
“Live dissections?” Brinks asked. “Or they were just in bad shape when you found them?”
“A little of both,” Horatio explained.
“You’re awfully quiet, Warden,” Renaldo scratched his forehead, parting the hair that draped it. “Still upset about what happened in the city?”
“She’s a woman of few words,” Will said.
“You ask me, she’s simply trying to maintain an air of mystery,” Chuck said. “Not that I blame her. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say.”
Rhea smiled cryptically, saying nothing.
Miles adjusted his hat. “I don’t think she wants to let any of you get very close,” the albino said. “She allows you in her company, yes, but that’s the extent of her trust.”
“You talk like you’re in her confidence or something,” Chuck said. “Saying ‘you’ instead of ‘we.’ But we all know you’re not any closer to her than the rest of us. Not like the salvager and the robot: the two who’ve actually fought with her in battle.”
“Yes, you’re right, I’m not,” Miles admitted.
“Maybe when we actually prove ourselves in combat, she’ll talk to us like them,” Renaldo said. “I can’t wait until that day.”
“You and Brinks both, huh?” Chuck said. “Oh, this is going to be good.”
Brinks shrugged. “You might be surprised at what a
man like myself can do when backed into a corner. I’m telling you, when the bowel discharges hit the plasma fan, I’ll be right there fighting with the best of you.”
“Bowel discharges?” Chuck shook his head. “Come on, Stick Arms… if you’re going to swear, use a real word.”
Brinks ignored him and glanced at Will and Horatio. “She communicates with you two in her head all the time, doesn’t she?” He turned toward Rhea. “Don’t worry, Warden, we don’t mind. Your privacy is important to us.”
“Sure it is,” Will said. “That’s why you scour the Net every day, looking for even the smallest mention of the Warden so you can announce what you’ve found to her and get brownie points. Stalking much?”
Brinks looked down and stammered. “I’m— I’m only trying to keep the Warden informed! If I don’t save the data, who else will? As soon as anything is published online mentioning the word ‘Warden,’ the AI censors kick in! If I don’t act quickly, the knowledge could be lost forever!”
“It’s okay,” Rhea said. “You’re doing well, Brinks.” Even if the files he showed her were mostly hit pieces: while it was true that pro-Warden articles and videos were deleted almost instantly, government propaganda remained online indefinitely.
She gave Brinks a reassuring smile, and he grinned like some dog freshly petted by its master.
A dog. She’d watched videos of them online. Apparently, they were a common pet in the big cities like Aradne, though they were strictly quarantined indoors. She’d never seen one. The residents of Rust Town certainly didn’t have any pets, and in the Outlands, there was no life at all, neither plant nor animal.
Well, excepting bioweapons, which fed on each other. Many of them had chlorophyll pigments from cyanobacteria spliced into the cells of their dermis, which allowed the smaller creatures to survive on photosynthesis for a very long time between meals. A variation of these pigments was responsible for the energy absorption capabilities of the Hydras, the local biologists had determined.
Rhea continued touring the rebuilt streets and byways of Rust Town until she reached Daria’s Quarter, one of the hardest hit neighborhoods.
She passed beside a lean-to that was being rebuilt from the ground up.
“Where do you need me?” she asked one of the workers.
The man gave her a toothy grin. “The Warden herself visits us! It’s an honor. Here.” He beckoned toward the 3D-printing drones that were smelting metal nearby. She went to the drones, waited until they created a sheet of metal, then returned to the lean-to and began attaching it using the available tools.
“Well, that’s my cue,” Will told her. “Think I’ll take a break from rebuilding today. I’ve got a human body after all. It can only take so much punishment. Not like you cyborgs.”
Rhea shrugged and didn’t look away from her work. “Have a good rest of the day.”
Horatio remained, mostly to watch her back, she suspected. Which was good. She wasn’t an Orber after all and could use the extra eyes.
Gizmo also stayed behind, circling patiently overhead like only a machine could, and Rhea gratefully tapped into the drone’s camera feed, placing the video in the upper right of her vision so that she had a bird’s eye view of the general area visible on her HUD at all times.
Renaldo and the fourteen Wardenites also stayed, and they spent the rest of that day helping out wherever they were needed in that neighborhood.
That night, she returned to the series of stacked cargo containers the residents had gifted to the Warden to serve as her home, and she promptly fell asleep. She was utterly exhausted and didn’t have to worry about her usually overactive mind keeping her awake.
It was too bad that she was roused from sleep shortly after midnight by an alarm.
3
Rhea continued to inhale and exhale with the same regularity and intensity as she would have while asleep, in order to fool any intruders into believing she was still under. It was a trick she thought of instantly, no doubt thanks to the person she once had been. It was relatively easy to achieve, considering only a few days ago, out of curiosity she had switched her body to sleep mode while keeping her mind conscious. She had observed her breathing rate among the other subtle physiological changes.
The next order of business was locating the source of the alarm: Rhea had placed motion sensors throughout the room. Her upgraded body had similar sensors, but she had chosen not to rely upon them due to her elevated position on the bed, which prevented her from detecting someone sneaking into the room by crawling across the floor, for example.
It was one of the sensors she had placed near the door whose silent alarm was now sounding. The alert would be sent to Will and Horatio—who were only a floor below her—in addition to the other Wardenites sleeping in the same building.
The actual door alarm hadn’t tripped, she noted, which meant the entrance to her room hadn’t been breached in any way. Without moving her body, or changing her breathing, she shifted her eyes toward the entrance; she couldn’t see anything in the darkness.
She switched to thermal vision.
There we go.
A heat signature appeared, one that was typical of a human. Male, judging from the build. He approached at a crouch, likely believing she still slept.
Other motion alarms continued to trip in succession as the intruder grew near.
She quickly navigated through the menuing system on her HUD until she found the controls for the lights. She intended to blind the intruder—her cyborg eyes would adjust instantly to the sudden brightness, whereas those of the human would take several moments to adapt. Well, assuming he hadn’t replaced his eyes.
She activated the lights, full power.
The cargo container flooded with illumination.
She caught only the briefest glimpses of the man before he rushed her. She didn’t even see his face.
“For Veil!” he shouted.
The laser cutter came directly at her. She caught the wrists that held it. They were made of steel. He was a Robo, and the supplementary limbs he possessed were strong, extremely so. She could barely keep the weapon at bay, even with her upgraded limbs. In fact, she was losing the fight.
She stared at the laser cutter as it inched ever closer to her head. That long, buzzing string floated between the two generating ends, a red beam threatening to cut right through her artificial skull.
She forced herself to look away. While the robotic additions to his arms were strong and powerful, the rest of his body was soft and weak.
Grinning maliciously, she slammed a knee upward, into his groin region.
She was met by something hard and a resounding clang filled the room.
Metal.
Okay. So he was more cybernetic than she’d first thought. Was he a full body cyborg like herself then, but a more realistic one? No. His heat map would have been vastly different. He was only part cyborg.
She released her hold on his arms and ducked out of the way before the laser cutter could saw her brain case in half. She swiveled behind him as the laser burned through her pillow and the mattress below, and before he could recover, she slammed an elbow into the back of his head.
This time she was met by a sickly thud and felt her elbow sink into something wet and squishy. It was like cracking through a glass jar filled with pickled cabbage.
The laser cutter fell from his hands and continued buzzing away harmlessly on the floor. She rolled off him, and he didn’t get up.
She glanced at his face. The man’s eyes had rolled up into his skull.
She hadn’t actually meant to kill him.
Still don’t know this upgraded body’s strength yet.
As she stared at his face, she realized she recognized him.
A Wardenite.
His name was Anderson. One of the locals from Rust Town.
Will’s words came to her. Watch yourself around them.
She had been too trusting. Letting too many into her inner circle without proper
ly vetting them.
She wondered if he had known he was tripping the alarms. After all, as a Wardenite, he should have been aware of their existence. Then again, maybe he had wanted her to wake up, so she would know who it was that killed her.
She glanced at the far wall and saw the hole the man had cut into the wall next to the door with his laser cutter. That explained why the main door alarm hadn’t tripped. He’d caught the loose section before it fell away and slid it aside.
As she watched, Will and Horatio rushed through that gaping hole, followed by Renaldo.
“Anderson!” Renaldo exclaimed when he saw the fallen man.
Rhea nodded. “Betrayed by one of my closest fans.”
Will knelt and deactivated the buzzing laser cutter.
The other Wardenites started to crowd in behind Renaldo.
“Keep them back!” Rhea ordered Renaldo. “Until we can search everyone for weapons.”
Renaldo raised both his arms and shoved them backward. “Get out, get out!”
The Wardenites obeyed, and Renaldo kept guard at the opening.
Horatio knelt and held a polycarbonate hand over Anderson’s bashed head. The robot moved the hand back and forth. “We’re going to have to search for more than just weapons, I’m afraid. I’m detecting some sort of chip attached to his cerebral cortex.” The robot glanced up. “The cortex is a favored spot for mind hijackers, considering it forms the heart of the brain’s decision processing center. Not to mention consciousness.”
“You’re saying someone installed a mind-jacking chip in his head?” Rhea asked. “So they could assassinate me?”
“That’s one possibility,” Horatio said. “Though admittedly, the cerebral cortex is a popular spot for many enhancements. The only way to be one hundred percent certain of its purpose is to perform an autopsy.”
