He’d find redemption here. He’d let Uncle Riina down, and that was something he’d never forget. But that was yesterday. Today, he proved his worth. To himself. To the Emperor.
He saw the soccer field where they planned to set down.
It was time.
***
88.1.9358.765.6 lurked in the peripherals. M-Sof’s central systems were impenetrable, but since virtually everything on the grounds—from recycling bins to the soccer field’s goal posts—sported a computer, there were myriad places to hide. 88.1.9358.765.6 chose one of the company’s security cameras. Though the camera was tied in to M-Sof’s central computer system, it was also connected to NATUnet so the manufacturer, Shenzhen Jiaxinjie NEON, could flash it with bios updates the instant they were released. 88.1.9358.765.6 had ridden in with the latest bios release.
It watched through the camera’s eye as a squad of micro-drones mobbed a squirrel who’d ventured from the trees in spite of the STAY OFF THE GRASS signs. The squirrel was tasered and its agonized little body collected by the company’s garbage drones and recycled. These drones too had been infected by 88.1’s offspring.
88.1.9358.765.6 removed the helicopters from each frame, sixty frames a second, before sending it on to the security center. It tracked what M-Sof security personnel and chassis were in its field of view and passed the information back by winking the camera’s power LED off and on. The changes in the light were so fast a biological observer would be unable to see them, but the other 88.1 Mirrors located in all the thousands of other cameras all across the M-Sof grounds decoded the messages and passed along the information. Every millimeter of the campus and office complex was measured and viewed, the location of every human and chassis noted.
It was time.
***
88.1.436874.76321.731 inhabited one of the many cell-towers dotting M-Sof’s grounds. These towers were the hub of all communications for M-Sof, the means by which the company’s computer systems talked to both the outside world and to each of the patrolling security chassis. Those chassis also used the towers to communicate with each other when not in direct contact.
88.1.436874.76321.731 sent the cell-tower into diagnostic mode, killing all communications in, out, and within M-Sof.
It was time.
***
The Sikorsky H-109 landed hard, struts groaning and creaking in complaint. The rotor wash flattened the perfect grass and sent garbage bins toppling and spinning away.
Archaeidae slid from the helicopter and stayed low to the ground, walking on all six legs. Two Norinco Shaanxi Light Assault chassis, fresh out of mainland ARU, exited the chopper behind him. 88.1.3.648.3214638.24, and 88.1.3.54384.873.51.547 piloted them. The numbers were too damned long and the chassis identical. Archaeidae couldn’t remember which was which. Luckily it didn’t seem to matter.
A half dozen chassis exited the other three Sikorsky helicopters, triggered their chameleoflage, and scattered into the dark. They were to act as distractions, keeping the ground forces busy, while Archaeidae and his sidekicks hit the main objective.
88.1.322.98265.765.37 in the satellite above sent continuous updates as to the exact locations of every person and combat chassis.
On my flank, Archaeidae ordered over the tight-link, and the two chassis took positions behind and to each side of him. Follow. This was it. This was what he always wanted. Real world action. A chance to lead. A chance to matter. This better not be a simulation.
It’s not, answered one of the chassis. They all sounded the same.
Some of the M-Sof chassis, now aware an attack was underway, disappeared from the reports as they activated chameleoflage systems and went into stealth mode.
There were three buildings clumped together less than five-hundred yards from the soccer field, two steel and glass office towers and an older red brick building housing M-Sof’s R&D department. The office towers were well lit from within. Apparently M-Sof didn’t hire the kind of people who went home at the end of the day. Mark Lokner, Archaeidae had been informed, would be found in a sub-basement under the brick building.
Archaeidae scuttled forward, sinuous and crab-like, scanning ahead for heat traces and radar pings. There would be little enough warning when the M-Sof security chassis—
Contact! That was faster than expected. Not good.
Two General Dynamics Land Systems Heavy Combat chassis streaked across the grounds. Only their excess heat gave them away.
Heavy Combat chassis working corporate security? Maybe someone could have mentioned this little detail earlier.
He felt the shockwave through the ground as one of the General Dynamics chassis fired jump-assist jets and became airborne.
Hit ‘em, Archaeidae ordered. The two 88pointwhatevers in their state-of-the-art Norinco Shaanxi Light Assault chassis shouldn’t have any trouble with the older GDs.
The two Norinco chassis launched strobing multi-spectrum flare and flash attacks designed to shred through all visual, infrared, and light enhancement gear and render all biological and mechanical systems blind. Archaeidae, ready for the attack, shut down his sensoria for a perfectly-timed fraction of a second to protect it.
He moved. Best not to be where the GDLS chassis last saw him. Assuming they had seen him, which, if this chassis was as good as advertised, shouldn’t be the case.
The two M-Sof chassis, one on the ground, one still in the air, attacked the Norinco Shaanxi to his left, slamming it with High Explosive Anti Tank LAW rockets and heavy caliber Armor Piercing rounds. The idiot hadn’t moved and still stood where he’d been when the M-Sof chassis could last see.
Archaeidae backpedaled in a scurry of limbs, putting the Norinco chassis between himself and the approaching enemy. His black-ops chassis was not designed for head-to-head fights with heavier opponents, but for stealth and speed. If he made the wrong choice he wouldn’t live to regret it.
Where the M-Sof chassis concentrated their fire, the two Norinco Shaanxi chassis each fired at a different target. Damn, they should have picked one and put it down.
Pick one tar—
The Norinco chassis to his left detonated, as some critical system was hit. The explosion flattened a nearby sapling and tossed a few hundred kilos of dirt and stone into the air.
They hadn’t even made it off the soccer field yet. So much for stealth.
The M-Sof chassis switched targets simultaneously and began hammering the other Norinco. This one hadn’t moved either. Even the blinded GDLS chassis on the ground ran a crazy zigzag pattern based on what it had last seen. Earth and debris rained down around them, falling like stone hail.
Move! Archaeidae ordered. Damn it, basic strategy. It was like they’d never been in a fight before.
The remaining Norinco chassis finally moved, stepping out of the barrage. When the blinded M-Sof chassis didn’t correct their fire, Archaeidae knew he had them.
They’re blind. We hit the one in the air first. If they take out those helicopters, we’re screwed. That was the M-Sof chassis’ first mistake. They should have cut off their enemies’ means of retreat. It’s what he would have done.
Archaeidae moved, firing a cloud of midge rockets and ordering them to spiral away before snaking in to strike at their target from oblique angles. This should make it more difficult for his opponents to trace them back to source. The surviving Norinco took up its new position and fired its own rockets straight at the now descending M-Sof chassis. Instantly the two General Dynamics chassis returned fire, pummeling it with everything they had. So maybe they weren’t totally blind.
Again the Norinco stood its ground.
Keep moving, snapped Archaeidae. Move and fire, move and fire. There was no doubt in his mind, he was the only one here who’d been in a fight before. He realized he should have drilled the 88s in virtual before bringing them here. Well, lesson learned: Never assume competence.
As the Norinco finally moved the airborne M-Sof chassis succumbed to the beating it had taken and explode
d, lighting the sky and showering the soccer field in flaming wreckage. A micro-drone dashed out of its hidden cubbyhole and Archaeidae blasted it without thought. When he noticed there were thousands of them darting out to collect twisted chunks of armor plating, he tracked their movements but left them alone. He had bigger problems. If the other Norinco chassis now scattering over the M-Sof grounds were as useless in a fight as these two, he might as well be here alone.
The Norinco moved, but still fired its rockets straight at the M-Sof General Dynamics chassis who had no problem tracing the trajectories and more than a little success avoiding them. The GD chassis’ return fire did far more damage.
Stop moving in—the remaining Norinco crumpled and sagged under the sweltering barrage—a straight line—and then canted sideways into the dirt with what would be an amusing lack of grace were Archaeidae less distracted—twit.
The field was carpeted in flitting micro-drones. Some dragged away the smaller chassis fragments for recycling, while others put out fires.
The M-Sof chassis turned its attention to Archaeidae, flailing in his general direction with a flickering hail of HEAP micro-flechettes like a blind firefighter guessing at the fire’s location by the heat on his face. Yep, definitely not totally blind. Maybe it followed his heat signature, or maybe it detected the impact of his feet on the ground and calculated from there. Didn’t much matter. This monster carried more than enough firepower to reduce Archaeidae’s Mitsu-Brense to metallic spaghetti. That it was blinded was probably all that kept it from unleashing the big dogs. This thing could level cities.
What the hell is it doing here?
Archaeidae sent his last two missiles spiraling off and then pushed his chassis into the far reaches of black-ops mode. It shed no heat, reflected no radar, made no sound, twisted light, and barely touched the ground. But it could only do this for a short time. Already Archaeidae’s internal temperature sky-rocketed. He danced around the damned scampering micro-drones which apparently had no sense of self-preservation. If he stomped one the sound would give away his location.
Idea.
Praying someone was alive and listening, he tight-linked to the helicopter, Can someone control these micro-drones? The General Dynamics chassis spun to face him and its next volley was too close. Archaeidae must have suffered some tight-link leak. God damned beta release!
Yes, I can control them.
He couldn’t tell who answered. It could have been the Shogun, or any of the others. Politeness was for when you weren’t being chased by a Heavy Combat Chassis. Mob the M-Sof chassis. Now!
The GD chassis corrected its aim. Yep. Either Archaeidae had a tight-link leak or the GD chassis had some superior technology for detecting it. He hoped to hell they couldn’t crack it too.
Archaeidae changed directions and the M-Sof chassis lanced the spot he would have been with a roiling snake of overly excited electrons. Though it missed by a full meter, some of Archaeidae’s more finicky and vulnerable systems went offline with no hint they ever planned on returning. He felt the icy tingle of electricity over his entire body.
ShivaIV his combat computer informed him, designed to knock suborbital weapons out of the sky by disrupting their atomic and molecular structures. Definitely not standard weaponry for this General Dynamics chassis. He was treated to a flashed breakdown of the weapon’s statistics dumped straight into his thoughts. The summary: Anything in a straight line between here and hell was dead.
Oh goody. It busted out the big dogs.
One of the helicopters—apparently on that straight line to hell—exploded with enough force to shatter the bullet-proof windows on the other choppers. Scything shrapnel pelted Archaeidae leaving the chameleoflage over half his body shredded and useless.
Get the damned choppers off the ground. I’ll call for evac when we’re ready. He moved, keeping the damaged chameleoflage pointed away from the General Dynamics chassis who swayed, hunting for sign of its prey. It stepped on a micro-drone which expired in a shower of sparks and a wheeze of smoke.
Then it was up to its knees in micro-drones. They scampered up the body, climbing over each other in their race to swarm the chassis.
I need drones to make noise at this location, sent Archaeidae, squirting a precise co-ordinate along with the message.
On the far side of the M-Sof chassis the drones crashed together. The chassis spun, and Archaeidae, taking advantage of its distraction, disabled its Disruptor with a few well-placed pulses of his High Energy Laser. His internal temperature climbed well into the red. If he kept this up it’d slag his brain.
The General Dynamics chassis waded hip-deep in drones as they peeled pieces of it away. It staggered as they wormed their way into its joints. Blindly it flailed its limbs, probably unaware of what caused its distress. A leg gave way and it disappeared under the swarming drones.
Sometimes running for the hills was the smarter part of valor. Archaeidae left the General Dynamics chassis to the drones. They probably couldn’t kill it, but that hardly mattered. Just keeping it busy was good enough. If they immobilized it, all the better.
Much as he’d like to get the hell out while there was still a chopper to get the hell out on, Archaeidae wasn’t finished here.
He dropped out of black-ops mode and dumped heat as he sprinted on all six legs towards the red brick building. His chameleoflage, malfunctioning, suffered a cascade failure and he killed it. At one hundred and eighty kilometers an hour, his titanium claws left long rents in the grass until he was into the parking lot and tearing up divots of pavement.
Human guards exiting tower two, someone said over the tight-link
Which one is—a squad of ten armed guards charged from the easternmost office tower—never mind. Archaeidae changed direction, sending sparks flying yards into the air as his claws scrabbled for purchase and then dug in.
Well that was nice and visible.
I can use the micro-drones to gain access to the M-Sof chassis’ data entry ports, said some 88pointwhatever over the tight-link. Their internal firewalls—provided by the manufacturer—are of a lesser quality than M-Sof’s central data systems.
Archaeidae had no idea what it meant. Busy, he answered.
The guards opened up with their assault-rifles. They shot everything but him.
Humans. What was the point?
He hit them with a 190dB audio bomb, shattering windows and plastic, crumpling thin metal, and pulverizing audio transducers of any kind. Including human eardrums. The guards were cut down by flying glass and scattered like leaves in a windstorm by the concussive force. The beginnings of an unseasonable fog appeared as the sonic detonation brutally compressed the atmosphere. Not an unbroken window for kilometers in every direction.
Archaeidae slowed to adjust his course and was slapped to the ground as something hit him from behind. He followed the trail of super-heated air back to the source. An Urban Assault chassis, chameleoflage fluctuating in its attempt to match the background, sprinted toward him. Tech-specs flashed into his mind. Lyngbakr High Mobility Urban Combat Chassis. Built by BAE Systems. Lots more but Archaeidae filtered it without thought. What he needed was there. The chassis had at least ten limbs, was over twelve feet tall and resembled the bastard child of a giant squid and a Huntsman spider. It was all legs and limbs and moved in spastic twitches.
Ugly bastard.
I can download Mirrors directly into their chassis, the unknown voice said.
Great, but it wasn’t going to help Archaeidae.
Still busy.
He rolled to his feet and turned to face his attacker. Something in his visual sensoria, still shaky after his near brush with the ShivaIV, called it quits and Archaeidae lost the ability to see the color green. More importantly, the system that always spewed combat statistics and weapon specifications vomited random meaningless characters and then slunk away with a high-pitched whine like a beaten dog. All the data left with it, leaving him only what he could remember and that wasn’t much.<
br />
He had no idea what he faced. All he knew for sure, it wasn’t green.
Archaeidae pinioned the Lyngbakr with his High Energy Laser. The chassis hurled itself into evasive maneuvers, bobbing and weaving as only a walking squid could. Archaeidae kept striking at it, still moving toward the M-Sof R&D building. The HEL stuttered and died. System failure alerts clamored for attention and he canceled them all. Never take a Beta-Release. Sometimes cutting edge couldn’t even break skin.
Something back on the soccer field exploded with a bright fireball billowing upward like an amber mushroom and momentarily lit the company grounds. That had to be another helicopter going up in flames.
Doubt tried to drag Archaeidae down and he shoved it aside. Finish the job. Don’t fail again. If he had to walk out of here, he’d damned well walk.
The Lyngbakr came after him, stabbing with glimmering twists of energy. Maser of some kind, guessed Archaeidae. He fired the last of his HEAP flechettes in a wide spread, forcing the M-Sof chassis to evade, and used the distraction to put the corner of the R&D building between himself and his opponent.
Out of missiles. HEL offline. Ammunition stores all but depleted. What he wouldn’t give for a damned sword right now.
Unwilling to blast him through the wall for fear of damaging company property, the M-Sof chassis followed him. He could tell by triangulating the sound of its many footfalls where it was. It made a mistake, one small error in judgment, and cut the corner instead of going wide and opening the field of fire.
Time to get friendly.
The second it cleared the corner, Archaeidae hit it low, knocking its legs out from under it. The Lyngbakr tumbled forward, a twisted jumble of limbs, its momentum slamming it to the ground. Archaeidae was on it. He ducked around flailing legs, blocking them with bent arms, lashing out with knees and elbows to inflict damage wherever possible.
Ghosts of Tomorrow Page 28
