by Isaac Hooke
Rhea smiled grimly and brought the X2-59 down for another pass. She cut off the hand and the robot released her, staggering backward. She finished the job by plunging the blade into its torso, striking the AI core. Feeling exposed, she promptly slid back inside and retracted the blade. Horatio released her ankle along the way.
She scooped up the pistol from where it had dropped to the floor. She waited a few moments, taking cover behind the bent triangular remnants of the shielding, then peered past. Only two robots remained on Chuck’s cabin—seems he had been busy.
With Horatio’s help she picked off those two. She occasionally glanced at Gizmo’s feed in the upper right of her vision, not wanting to be caught off guard again. The four robots that yet clung to her tanker hadn’t made much progress—apparently they had decided that firing at the pickups and drones was a better idea at the moment. They were certainly taking a lot of targets down, considering that most of the vehicles escorting the tankers were ignoring the robots, occupied as they were by the airborne fighters.
The robots clinging to the tank section of Chuck’s semi were behaving the same way, and they made easy targets; when she began to fire at them, they quickly scrambled to the far side of the tank and took cover.
“If any of you drones or pickups can spare a moment, we have some robots clinging to the righthand side of Chuck’s semi that could use some handling,” she sent. “In fact, all of the robots could use a good whacking. They’re picking you guys off!”
With Chuck’s semi safe for the time being, she turned her attention to the other side to help Will. He still had the driver window open a crack, and traded shots with the last remaining robot attached to Renaldo’s cabin. Will shut the window after he took each shot, shielding the interior.
When he opened it once more, it was to discover the robot lying flat on Renaldo’s roof.
“Got it!” Renaldo said. “First in the mouth grill, and then the power cell! What do you think of me now, Warden? Now do you believe me when I tell you I got your back?”
“I always did,” Rhea transmitted.
She aimed at the robots clinging to the tank portion of Renaldo’s vehicle and drove them to the far side.
“Chuck, you all right?” she sent. “You’re kind of quiet out there.”
“As good as can be expected,” Chuck said. “I’ve taken a hit to the side, but I’ve patched it up. Should be fine.”
She glanced at Gizmo’s feed. The robots that hung onto her own tanker were still firing with impunity at the convoy’s escorts.
She turned her attention to the overhead map and zoomed out a bit. The ruins were very close now.
She glanced at Will. “Can you have Gizmo rotate slightly to the left. Toward our destination?”
Gizmo’s video feed swiveled toward the destination. The jagged skeletons of skyscrapers promptly ate up the skies, but the outskirts were still another two minutes away.
She returned her gaze to the overhead map, and the robots marked as clinging to their tanker.
With her pistol, she cleared the jagged glass of the window beside her, then leaned her body slowly outside. She spotted a robot on top of the tanker, several meters away. It had its attention turned skyward.
She fired, bringing it down.
The other robots weren’t in view from her current position.
She pulled back inside and glanced at Will.
“Swap with me,” she said.
Will shook his head. “I got this.” He opened his window and leaned outside in turn, firing.
Rhea glanced at the overhead map, and saw another red dot turn black on the tanker as a robot was eliminated.
“I can’t see the other two from my current angle,” Will said.
“Neither can I.” She glanced at the shattered pane beside her. “I think I’m going to get out there.”
She holstered the weapon and grabbed the edges of the window.
“Is that safe?” Will asked.
“No,” she replied. “But I’ll keep moving.”
“I’ll go with you,” Horatio said.
She rested a hand on the robot’s lap. “No. Stay here. Cover me.”
She pulled her hood low, not wanting to be identified when she was out there: if the mayor knew she was among them, she, his archenemy, the attack might become decidedly more deadly.
She hauled herself through the window and swung her body acrobatically onto the rooftop. She withdrew her pistol.
Around her, the convoy drones weaved to and fro, darting in and out between the enemy units. The pickup trucks continued to fire as well, providing a diversion—without them, Rhea would’ve been shot down the instant she emerged on the roof.
Remaining crouched, she rose slightly so that she could peer past the edges of the tank portion behind her. She could see the remaining two robots, clinging near the aft portion of the steel cylinder. One of them was aiming at the surrounding pickups, the other…
She ducked, and a plasma bolt from that one shot past her head.
Aware of how exposed and vulnerable she was for every second she remained out there, she holstered the weapon and quickly lowered herself onto the deck in front of the fifth wheel coupling, in the narrow gap between the rear of the cab and the front of the trailer, and then pulled herself beneath the undercarriage. The gimbaled wheels bounced on either side of her.
She glanced at the forward section and confirmed that there were no rocks or other hazards in their path that would rudely rip her from the undercarriage, then made her way backward. She moved quickly, knowing that the situation could change in a heartbeat.
She reached the rear section and pulled herself onto the aft bumper. She climbed the rungs there, until she reached the top. She withdrew her pistol and slowly aimed it past the topmost edge.
The robot that had fired at her was still aiming at the cabin. But it must have spotted her, because it quickly flung its arms toward her…
Rhea fired, bringing it down. Gripping the pistol between her teeth, she quickly climbed higher, and as the second robot came into view, she ripped the weapon out of her mouth and brought it to bear.
The movement attracted the target’s attention, and it spun around to face her, but it was too late: Rhea fired and terminated the robot.
She glanced at the tankers on both sides and confirmed that none of the other robots were in sight, then holstered the weapon and scrambled back down.
She pulled herself below the undercarriage. She heard a loud buzzing coming from behind a moment later. Looking over her shoulder, she realized an enemy drone had descended to her level.
Its weapon turrets swiveled toward her…
8
Before Rhea could withdraw her pistol and fire, one of the escorting pickup trucks shot down the drone. She exhaled in relief.
“Thank you, whoever did that,” she transmitted.
“Better get inside here quick,” Will sent. “We’re entering the city. And the terrain is slightly more… technical.”
The sound profile changed, with nearby buildings reflecting the noise of the passing vehicles.
The loose brick from a rubble pile struck her underside. Another loose rebar slammed into her shoulder, and nearly ripped her from the undercarriage. She increased her pace and reached the deck. She pulled herself onto it, and then swung onto the ledge beneath the door.
Horatio opened it and helped her inside.
An enemy drone swooped down toward her, and Rhea slammed the door behind her. The enemy quadcopter adjusted its position, centering itself over the triangular portion, but Horatio was ready and fired the twin rifle barrels affixed to his forearm, taking it down.
She glanced at the overhead map. Enemies were marked as red dots, courtesy of the active sensing capabilities of the convoy members. Their dots froze whenever moving behind obstacles, indicating the last known positions. Meanwhile, the semis were marked in green, and the escorting technicals and drones in blue; the positions of the friendlies update
d in realtime, regardless of whether they passed behind buildings, thanks to the common network the machines utilized for communications. She was shocked by how few escorts seemed to remain intact out there.
A quick glance at Gizmo’s feed confirmed her fears. There were maybe a score of technicals left, and a dozen drones.
With less escorts to protect the tankers, the enemy drones doubled their attacks, swooping down at the cabins with increased alacrity. Some of them also concentrated their fire on the tires, apparently not understanding that the wheels were run flats.
“So who was it that said coming to the city would provide us with the cover we needed?” Will said, firing at another drone through a crack in his window.
“When we reach the parking garage, we’ll lose them,” she said, unleashing her pistol at another drone on the passenger side.
“Assuming it’s still there,” Will countered.
“It’s there,” Rhea said. “The scouts passed this way only yesterday.”
An advance party had scouted these ruins the day before to confirm the accuracy of the crowdsourced map data the Wardenites had on the place—data uploaded to the Net by salvagers, wreckage tourists and the like. The scouts verified that the garage was present, and that the tankers could fit. The advance team had continued on to the next Net-enabled city in order to report their findings—Rhea had specifically told them not to return to Rust Town right away, to avoid having any satellites flag their behavior as suspicious.
Once inside the garage, Rhea and the others planned to abandon the tankers and lose their pursuers on foot: a stairwell in the garage led to a pedway system that was still intact, one that wound its way underneath the city from building to building.
In theory, the Aradne forces would give up shortly after losing them. They only really wanted the water, after all—especially if Rhea could keep her identity hidden. The forces would deploy a few of the smaller hunter-killers and combat robots, leaving them behind to search for the escapees, but that was something Rhea and the others could readily handle. The majority of the forces would return, escorting the captured tankers back to Aradne.
At least, that was the hope.
“Who knows,” Horatio said, firing past Rhea at a drone. “The building that harbors the garage could have collapsed since yesterday.”
“With the state this city is in, wouldn’t surprise me!” Will quipped.
Rhea fired at yet another incoming drone, and it dropped from view. She glanced at her overhead map. The route to the parking garage was plotted as a green line between the different skyscrapers; the AIs responsible for steering the semis were following it to a T.
She took down another drone, and a moment of respite followed.
She used the interlude to glance at Gizmo’s feed, wanting to get an inventory of how many still fought for her. There weren’t very many escorts left at all: a few quadcopters, a handful of pickups struggling across the debris. Gizmo had survived by keeping well back, but now that they were in the city, the drone kept closer by strategically employing the buildings for cover. Indeed, Gizmo darted behind a broken skyscraper as she watched, blocking the convoy from view. Just when she was about to use the drone to check on the enemy positions…
She returned her attention to the real world, puzzled why the adversaries weren’t continuing to throw everything they had at the semis. Past her damaged window, she could see the ruined husks of buildings reaching for the sky, their tips broken and jagged. She turned her gaze forward, and through the boreholes that marred the protective covering of the main windshield, she studied the street ahead: the debris that scattered the route seemed to be increasing in frequency. In moments, the ruins of collapsed skyscrapers blocked the road to such an extent that the semis were forced to travel in single file—only a tiny aisle remained clear down the center of the street. That aisle quickly narrowed, and not even the super-gimbaled shocks could prevent the cabin from tilting sideways as the rightmost wheels had to drive over the collapse. Cement dust lingered in the air, as if another large vehicle had already passed this way ahead of them, or…
“I don’t recall the streets appearing so congested in the data,” Will said. “See, the crowdsourced map is wrong already.”
“The map data isn’t wrong,” Rhea said, gazing skyward past the triangular gap in her window. “The drones are attacking the buildings.”
The brief respite in attacks was because the enemy drones had all swooped upward: they were concentrating their fire on the skyscrapers ahead, collapsing them in an effort to block the convoy’s path.
As she watched, a big building fell directly in front of the semis. Dust filled the street, and the view outside the exposed portions of the windows became completely black. The cabin’s internal lights activated.
“Switch to LIDAR!” Rhea ordered.
“Won’t make much difference in this,” Will told her.
He was right. There were too many particles for the individual photons to scatter upon, and she got no readings.
“Echolocation,” Horatio said.
Chirps echoed from the exterior of the semi via a series of strategically spaced speakers, which fed the resultant data to the HUDs of Rhea and her companions. She could see the debris and the buildings around her once again.
Using that data as a guide, the AI operating the semi realized the way forward was completely blocked, and reversed course. However, it soon got stuck when it ran over a cement block that elevated the undercarriage, lifting the back right wheels completely off the ground. The cabin tilt became even worse.
“Damn AI pathfinding!” Will took over the steering and tried to move forward in an effort to dislodge the vehicle, but the tanker wouldn’t move.
“Chuck, we’re going to need you to ram us,” Rhea said. “We’re stuck.”
“On it,” Chuck sent. His tanker was behind theirs, while Renaldo had the rear.
Three drones appeared outside on the echolocation band, coming in from the direction of the windshield, and the left and right windows. Thuds on the roof told her that more combat robots had dropped down onto them. Apparently the enemy was using echolocation, too.
Rhea fired through the gap in the passenger side window, but the drone swerved left and right randomly, making it very difficult to target. She was forced to duck beneath the window entirely and crouched into the small alcove at the base of her seat to avoid being shot.
Horatio slid forward, out of its line of sight as well; the robot aimed a rifle barrel through a borehole in the windshield and fired. “Got one.”
Will had the same problem as Rhea and was unable to eliminate the randomly swerving drone on his side. He was forced to close the shielded driver-side window entirely, lest he be struck, and also had to crouch into the alcove beneath the steering wheel thanks to all the boreholes the plasma attacks had drilled into that pane and its protective sheet.
A robotic forearm shoved through the gap in Rhea’s window and reached toward where she hid beneath.
No, that arm wasn’t reaching—it was aiming twin muzzles at her head.
Rhea instinctively shoved that forearm toward her seat; the muzzles fired and ripped right through the cushion.
And then the whole vehicle jerked forward with such force that Rhea slammed into the glove compartment, and the robotic arm was wrenched outside. The super-gimbals wouldn’t help all that much when something as big as another semi rammed them.
A glance at the feed from Chuck’s vehicle told her that all their wheels were back on the ground.
“We’ve been knocked free!” Rhea announced. “Chuck, get out of our way!”
“Already backing up!” Chuck replied.
Will sat up and took control of the wheel; he turned it right, either to avoid plowing into Chuck, or getting snagged on the same concrete block. And then he pressed down on the accelerator. Hard.
Once again Rhea was shoved forward. She glanced at her overhead map: the red dots of the three remaining robots
that were attached to the cabin roof moved forward as the enemy robots, apparently unready for the change in momentum, tumbled off.
She pulled herself into her seat and began firing as several drones pursued them. She relied on the semi’s echolocation to highlight the targets in the dark.
In seconds the cabin leveled out as the trailer returned to the aisle they had passed through before. Though he was driving in a straight line, Will had to keep adjusting the wheel to prevent the back end from fishtailing too far to the left or right.
Horatio aimed his built-in rifle barrel at different perforations in the windshield to target different enemy drones. Meanwhile, Rhea continued to fire past the triangular opening in the passenger window. She timed her attacks to follow Horatio’s and ducked after each shot. A police drone had swung into her line of fire, and though it didn’t swerve to the left and right like the previous attackers, she was having difficulty putting it down, thanks to its large size. At least it kept most of the other drones at bay.
The air outside began to brighten as the semis retreated from the all-encompassing debris cloud.
When that cloud had cleared enough for Rhea to begin seeing the surrounding street and buildings once more, Will slammed on the brakes and switched to the forward gear. He immediately turned onto a side street.
“Tankers, with me!” Will transmitted.
Rhea glanced at the overhead map and confirmed that Chuck and Renaldo were following. Well, their AIs were, anyway—she doubted the pair had taken the wheel like Will.
While the protective metal sheet that covered the windshield was peeled back slightly on the driver’s side, and the rest riddled with boreholes, there weren’t really enough gaps in it for Will to see properly; the fact that he kept his driver side window completely closed indicated to Rhea that he was driving the semi from a third-person perspective, using Gizmo to guide him. He probably used his overhead map to a degree as well, which would be updating in real-time courtesy of the active sensors on the tankers.
A glance at that overhead map told her there were no technicals left, nor combat drones. They’d all been shot down. Only a couple of scouting drones remained: like Gizmo, they’d kept their distance.
