Ypsilon and the Plague Doctor

by Zachary Chopchinski

  “…Maza!” Van snapped. “Are you listening?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  Van leaned against a pole with her arms crossed over her chest, scowling at him. Maza looked past her to Kip, who was sitting on a set of rails that he used to move larger mechanical parts around the rooftop.

  “So?” Van huffed. “What do you think?”

  “I think… I think you need to focus,” Maza bluffed, not knowing what he’d been asked. “Kip seems to know a lot about what he’s doing, and you just need to give him a shot.” Sure, it was a lie. But he needed to be strong for Van. If she believed it was possible, then it was possible.

  “Ugh. Fine!” Van snapped. She kicked the pole with her prosthetic leg and stormed to the opposite side of the roof.

  The metal of the foot was surprisingly silent. Maza cocked his head to the side. Something was off about it, but he couldn’t decide what. “Now, stock it and ride it.”

  Maza took Grinding more seriously than Van and, even though he would never tell her, he took it more seriously than Ypsilon too. Van looked at it as a way of getting around and Ypsilon got off on the adrenaline rush. But Maza looked at it like a sacred art. It was spiritual for him. Freedom in a world of limitations. He’d heard the term ‘warrior poet’ once long ago and the notion stuck.

  Turning to face the obstacle course, Van sighed and lowered her head before sinking into a running stance. Kip better hope for his own health that he’d gotten the adjustments right this time. Van and Maza locked gazes for a second and he could see the fire back in his sister’s eyes.

  Van growled and tore off in a full sprint. She no longer favored the mechanical leg, her body moving in a fluid way that surprised Maza. She grunted. Exhaled as she jumped. The kit Kip tweaked for her was no joke. She cleared ten feet, legs tucked beneath her like Maza taught her years ago.

  Van landed on the rail. Sparks flew from the bottom of her feet as metal ground on metal. She slid along the tubes for several feet before dismounting in a hop and jogging to a stop.

  Maza rose. A smile stretched across his face. Kip did it. She did it.

  Van’s gaze found her brother’s, her grin mirroring his. “Ohhhhh. Bitch what?” She spun on her toes and took off towards the rails once more. This time, she gave it a little attitude. She crouched low as she slid across the metal piping, thrusting upwards as she neared the end. Twisting in the air, Van brought her legs around and flipped end over end. In true Grinder fashion, she extended an arm, grabbed a pole and spun around it.

  “Wow…” Molly gasped, her hand clasped over her mouth as she watched.

  Van centered herself and then kicked off the poll and into a delicate backflip. She landed on top of the string of wires that connected the pole to an antenna on the other side of the roof. Grinding to the edge, Van spun around, tucked her knees and flipped over the antenna.

  Standing, Van twisted and threw herself into another backflip. When she landed, she immediately flipped again, and again, and again. Rounding off with a final spin, Van landed on the edge of the roof, facing out over the city street below.

  “Check this Van!” Kip shouted. He drew back his arm and threw a lead pipe as hard as he could. Maza lunged to catch the projectile, but he wasn’t fast enough. Van spun and kicked the pipe. Maza’s jaw dropped as the pipe separated in two and disappeared over the edge of the roof.

  “What the hell was that?” Maza gaped. “You could have killed her or knocked her off the roof.”

  Kip laughed. Van regained her footing and looked down at her leg. A blade slid back into its housing somewhere inside.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I also had to check that it worked without her having to think about it. That blade there will cut through… well pretty much anything. It's made from a special metal developed by Cog.” Kip fell silent, his face lost to a painful memory.

  Van’s eyes sparkled as she examined her new and improved leg. “I want to practice more.”

  “Keep running this course, then,” Maza replied. “We have time and Kip can work on analyzing the samples.”

  “Nah. This roof is too small. I want to open this thing up.”

  Molly stood, the sour look on her face replaced by awe. “I’m happy that you like it and all, but now really isn’t the time to go out there. Trust me. Not with what’s going on right now. The soldiers might think you’re one of the Prowlers.”

  Maza smiled at Van and chuckled. He was happy to see the life back in her eyes. “Patience baby sister.”

  A case sitting on one of the tables shook as Kip dropped a box on his workbench. Maza glanced over to see what he was doing, but his mind was lost on thoughts of his sister. They had left Van on the roof to practice grinding and getting used to her leg while the rest of them sat in Kip’s workshop trying to figure out a cure for the virus that was turning Dwellers into what Pajak called Prowlers.

  Molly tugged on one of Kip’s suspenders. “Whatcha lookin' at?”

  Maza laughed as Kip tried to ignore the love-sick child.

  “Can I help, Kipper?” Molly said as she reached across his bench to grab a tool Maza couldn’t identify.

  “Not now, Molly. Please just leave me alone and let me work.”

  Steam rolled out of the top of an appliance. Kip padded over and kicked it. The machine made a gurgling sound before it sputtered and stopped.

  Maza briefly wondered if whatever this disease was could be contracted by humans. He shook his head. If that was the case, he would have gotten it by now. He brought his attention back to the robot boy. “What’s the news?”

  Kid didn’t reply, he just kept tinkering.

  Something shook above them and Maza looked up at the ceiling. He was better suited up there with Van, stretching and preparing. Reminding himself that he was the Tekaha chief.

  “Let me help, Kipper,” Molly barked.

  “Not now, Molly!” Kip snapped. “There’s nothing for you to do. Now, please hand me the fusion-calibrated torch extension.” Kip held out his hand.

  Molly scoffed and turned to a table of devices behind her. She grabbed a tool and thrust it at him.

  Kip grumbled to himself as he took the implement. He pushed a button and fire shot from the end of the probe. Adjusting the height of the flame, Kip applied the heat to a small tray with an arm bolted to it. The arm twitched and Kip vigorously wrote something in a notebook next to the bench.

  Across the room, a set of slowly churning gears caught Maza’s eye. As the gears turned, several pistons pumped up and down. At the base of the housing, a series of small glass bottles lined a steel rack. Maza leaned in to examine the device. The vials had a thick red liquid in them. This must be the machine that Kip used to make the blood that replaced what he’d lost.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Kip shouted. The stool he’d been perched on slid from beneath him and toppled to the floor. Molly dropped the tools she’d been clutching and took a panicked step away from the bench.

  Maza rose and marched to Kip’s side. “What did you find?”

  “Fusible alloys.” Kip tore through a box, throwing the contents onto the floor.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Shh. Let Kipper work,” Molly snapped.

  “Fusible Alloys,” Kip repeated. “They’re metals with low melting points. It all makes sense when you can see the little bastards.”

  Maza placed two fingers to his lips and blew. He was known for his whistle. He could keep contact with the Tekaha from blocks away back home.

  Kip clamped his hands over his ears. “Jeez, Maza. What was the point of all that?”

  “Listen, kid. I get the whole young genius thing, but I need to know what’s going on. Fusible Alloys. Metals with low melting points. Got it. And?”

  Kip rolled his eyes and marched over to the bench. The arm twitched again. Maza glared at the severed appendage, keeping his eyes on it in case it did more than just twitch.

  Kip wheeled over a monitor and pla
ced it next to the table. Carefully, he angled the device at the arm and turned a knob. Two antennae on the top clicked and a spark of electricity arced between them. A ballast whirred in circles and an electric hum started to fill the room. Eventually, the screen came to life and showed a picture of the arm sitting on the table.

  Kip waved Maza and Molly over and pointed proudly. Then he waited in silence.

  “Yeah, and?” Maza questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Standard arm. Nothing special. Actually, came off a Dweller who got into it with some Kleinmasch. So this guys was—”

  “Kip,” Maza growled.

  “All right. All right. Anyway, there wasn’t anything wrong with it, so I decided why the hell not and exposed it to some contaminated samples. After watching for a bit, it happened.” Kip pointed at his screen.

  Maza looked at the screen but nothing seemed out of place.

  Kip turned a knob. “Now watch.”

  The screen went fuzzy. When it cleared, Maza thought he was looking at the inside of an engine. Kip had magnified the arm so much that Maza could see thousands and thousands of microscopic specs crawling over the mechanical device. Kip pointed out some of the dirt-like things, then turned the knob again.

  Once the screen finished focusing this time, Maza couldn’t tell what part of the arm they were looking at, but he could see them. Tiny little things. Almost like mechanical bugs. The insects crawled over the workings of the arm, shooting little charges to one another. They had long bodies, several little legs, and a dome on top as a head, perhaps.

  “This is what’s happening to those Dwellers. It’s like a virus. They take over everything and make everyone go crazy. As you can see, parts of the virus are dead, most of it’s alive.” Kip paused for dramatic effect. “But parts of the virus are melted. The melted ones are the good news.”

  “Uh, dead?” Maza asked.

  “Yeah. After a long time without a ‘fresh’ host, it looks like the virus goes dormant. By the looks of some of them, they do eventually just die. Must have a short lifespan. Especially without a host.”

  “So, heat?” Molly chimed in.

  “Yeah. Look, I know my metals. I knew something was up when I first set my eyes on these things. I had to test my theory.” Kip pointed at the torch. “So, I did. Heat. Heat neutralizes the little buggers and melts them. Quick death. They’re fusible alloys, guys. This is good news.”

  Maza stepped closer to the monitor and peered at it. He didn’t quite understand, but he could hold his own in mechanics. What Kip said sounded like it made sense. “Hey, not to break the buzz you got going on but, when you hit them with heat just now, it didn’t kill them all. Also, how are you not going to melt, or kill, your own people when you light them on fire?”

  “Yeah, the torch only applied heat locally. It didn’t disperse the heat too much. I’m still certain this will work. As for us, a majority of our components are copper and bronze. They won’t melt until over 1300 degrees Fahrenheit. These things die under 400. It won’t kill us. It will probably hurt like hell, but it won’t kill us,” Kip said. “Now, how am I going to test this on a bigger scale?”

  “Did you whistle?” Van asked storming into the room.

  “Sorry, kid. Had to bring this one back into the world of right now. Looks like Kip figured this shit out.”

  Van’s eyes lit up. “No joke? How?”

  “Something like—Oh shit.” Movement caught Maza’s eye. Before he could grab the infected arm, Molly tore it free from the straps that bound it to the table.

  He charged her.

  She slid back.

  Kip jumped up and reached for her, but Van landed with a crash between them, wrapping her arms around Kip and slamming him backwards.

  Molly pivoted and bolted into the stacks of cases.

  Maza was at her heels.

  She tried to topple several cases and shelves, but Maza was expecting her speed this time. He jumped, flipping over the falling objects. “Molly, what the hell?” Maza snarled. He reached for the collar of her shirt.

  His senses on high, he pulled his hand back just as Molly cleared a doorway and slammed the door closed behind her. The wheel in the center spun until a loud click signaled it locked. Maza tugged at the wheel and jammed his shoulder against the door, but it was no use. They were locked out.

  “It won’t work,” Kip said, rounding the corner with Van in tow. “That door is reinforced.”

  Maza’s heartbeat thundered behind his ribcage. “What’s in there?”

  “Nothing right now. It’s an empty storage room. We used it as a blast room when testing machines that could explode. If she has it locked from the inside, you aren’t getting in.”

  Van’s eyebrows knit together. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Kip shrugged. “I mentioned to her while you two were talking that I could cure this, but I needed a live test subject. The next thing I knew she was grabbing the arm and running. I was going to infect myself once I was sure about the process.”

  Maza could hear the frustration in Kip’s voice. Releasing the handle on the door, he walked over to the robotic kid and put his hand on his shoulder. “Kip, do you really think you can cure this infection?”

  “Yeah. I already had the tool in mind.”

  “Then go get it. We’re going to need it.”

  14|If It Moves, Shoot It

  Ypsilon pursed her lips. “Anyone want to explain how we ended up here, again?”

  “Just keep your eyes open,” Arija replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Something’s off here. If it moves, shoot it.”

  Adal, Arija and Ypsilon slowly walked in line formation through the misty dock. They’d already lost sergeant Staut from right under their noses and couldn’t afford to lose any more.

  Ypsilon ground her teeth, her eyes scanning from left to right as she slowly placed one foot in front of the other.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. If this had been open air, she’d gladly welcome a hundred enemies. But this whole hide and seek crap had to go. The lanterns the soldiers had brought with them barely made a dent in the soupy, rust-colored fog and she could swear visibility was becoming worse the more she walked.

  Ypsilon glanced down as she stepped over another dead body. Easily the fifth she’d seen since they’d started really looking around.

  When they’d first landed on the platform, the fog had hidden all signs of combat, but the more they explored the abandoned area the more Ypsilon realized it was a graveyard of dead Kleinmasch. “Something crazy must’ve happened here,” Ypsilon said to Adal and Arija. “Someone shot the shit out of these things.”

  “Yeah, I don’t like it,” Arija replied. “This whole place isn’t sitting right with me.”

  Adal shook his head. “One of those ‘too quiet’ situations, ya know?”

  The crackle of static filled Ypsilon’s helmet and a voice said, “Everyone, sound off.”

  A series of all clears came in as the group continued to sweep the area.

  “So far, so clear,” Ypsilon added as she squeezed the stock of her rifle and ran her fingers along the inside of the lever.

  That feeling on the back of her neck, the one that kept her head still attached to her body after all these years, stung. She looked down at Bangarang. Maybe she should have her old friend out just in case.

  Ypsilon’s gaze jerked up as a glint of metal in the dust caught her eye. Something about that piece of metal made her feel like it was different than all the others in the area.

  She signaled to Adal and Arija to stay where they were, then she turned and walked towards where she saw the object.

  As Ypsilon approached the piece of metal, the voice came over the speaker again. “Everyone, hold fast, we may have something.”

  She ignored the broadcast and leaned down to examine the cause of her curiosity. A Geartha lay dead on the platform. It had taken a few hits to the abdomen.

  But there w
as that glint of silver again.

  Something was in its teeth.

  Ypsilon took a deep breath. “Screw it.” She shouldered her rifle and pulled her pistol from its holster.

  Slowly, she reached for the tiny piece of metal. Pausing, Ypsilon reminded herself how much she enjoyed, and needed, each of her fingers before she let her index finger graze the partially opened mouth. She pinched the end of the metal shaving and tugged it free.

  Clutching it, Ypsilon took a few steps back, opened her hand and examined the small silver piece. Her face screwed up as she scrutinized it. It didn’t look like anything. Just a piece of metal.

  But why would it be in a Geartha’s mouth?

  She flipped the piece over to look at the back.

  Her heart stopped as realization took hold.

  Ypsilon sucked in a surprised breath as she stared at the insignia.

  STAUT.

  Ypsilon whirled around. “This is a fucking—”

  “Trap!” A scream came over the coms, finishing Ypsilon’s sentence.

  Everything around her exploded into chaos.

  Lightning flashed from the barrels of the soldiers’ cannons, thin beams of hot metal ripping through the air in all directions.

  Ypsilon dropped the tag. The Geartha that she stood over opened its eyes and glared at her.

  It twitched.

  Its long, bladed arm jerked.

  The Geartha tilted its head so far to the side it was almost inverted.

  Rows of razor-sharp teeth stretched into a grin. The creature opened its mouth and let out a high-pitched screech that could have shattered glass.

  “Here we go again.” Ypsilon bladed her stance, raised Bangarang, and let a shot split the ravaging creature’s head in two. As the creature dropped back to the platform, Ypsilon put another round into the same bullet hole. “Not falling for that shit again.”