Immediately, the VTAL stopped spinning and Andy spun his legs into the seat formerly occupied by Edward, whose body continued to jerk, spasm and spark on the ground below. Andy, who hadn’t had a chance to strap in flung his hands out to the top rim of the cockpit and grabbed it to avoid being smashed against it as the VTAL nosed over at a steep angle straight for the ground. Andy braced himself for what looked to be a less than gentle landing.
Mia, rock steady as always, stared at the mass of DEVO’s rapidly approaching as the VTAL veered down on them. They had scarce time to move out of the scorching landing lights washing over them. The density of their mob prevented that in any event.
Mia twisted the standby throttle control on the collective, pushing the RPM’s of the remaining engine to 125%. Emergency power that, if not reduced after a prescribed time, would eventually overheat the one good engine and require a full rebuild. Mia didn’t care. She intended on converting every single RPM and even what little altitude she had to forward airspeed that would produce lift over the wings and the rotor blades; turning the heavy, sluggish aircraft into a flying machine. Edward’s 180 pounds and Keith’s 140 pounds gone from the aircraft also helped, although she didn’t know the latter had become the main entrée among a lucky group of creatures on the roof.
At the last possible moment, Mia yanked the stick back as she pulled up hard on the collective. The VTAL’s nose pitched up as all four Ducted fans changed pitch and bit into the crisp night air pushing down a tremendous pressure wave that bounced back up against the stubby wings and fuselage of the machine.
As soon as the nose came even with the horizon, she slammed the stick forward. The Ducted fans tilted and bit into the air even more as it pushed the machine forward as the one engine now powering all of them screamed. Mia glanced at the airspeed, 15 knots. She needed at least ten more to transition from hovering to forward flight, the point where the wings and rotor blades were moving fast enough through the air to create lift. With little to no breeze, the VTAL would have to manufacture all that relative airspeed.
“It’s gonna be close, hold on!” Mia shouted as the VTAL settled towards the ground as it sluggishly moved forward.
The wheels came down close enough to the pavement where they were now plowing down DEVO’s unfortunate enough to be under and in front of them. The thumping reverberated back up to the cockpit, but Mia only concentrated on one thing, airspeed. The burning building quickly approaching across the parking lot and in her way filled Mia’s eyes before they returned to the airspeed indicator on the HUD.
“Come on, baby. Get up,” Mia whispered.
Andy stared at the mass of DEVU’s he was sure they were going to land in and amongst just feet in front of and slightly below the aircraft. Seeing the hordes unobstructed just below and to his right, he realized the door was still open. Holding on to the cockpit with his left hand, he leaned out and grasped for the handle. A sea of pale faces and clacking mouths stared up at him, just out of reach. So close Andy feared they could leap into the cockpit, only the forward speed they made just three meters above the parking lot prevented that. Grabbing hold, he pulled the door shut.
Slowly, the machine accelerated. Mia watched the airspeed. 25, 30, 40, only after the last number did she nudge the stick slightly back. Andy watched the mass of creatures slip away as the nose came up slowly then more dramatically.
Mia had no choice. She had to turn, or they would hit the building in front of them. One of dozens laid waste earlier by Logan and the Vulcan. She waited until the last possible second as the maneuver would bleed off airspeed and altitude with it.
At just over 50 knots, she nudged the stick to the right as she stomped on the right foot pedal. The approaching burning building filled her windscreen. Slowly, the flaming structure moved leftward over the top of the instrument panel. Andy whose hands were still clawing into the top of the cockpit braced himself. He wanted to close his eyes but couldn’t.
Just before what seemed to be the moment of impact, the building’s corner gave way to the street, which was much closer now as were the DEVO’s filling it. After just a moment, the VTAL that had settled closer to the ground during the turn accelerated with the clear path, gaining altitude rapidly.
As soon as Mia got to just above rooftop level and 80 knots she banked to the right again. Another 30 seconds and they were out over the harbor and racing towards home across the bay. Logan gave Andy a thumbs-up before settling back into the co-pilot’s seat. He’d lost two of his teammates tonight, one of them his protégé. Whatever anger he felt earlier towards Keith, there was no doubt he saved him from serious injury, if not death. He shivered at the thought of what was happening to him now.
Mia for her part busied herself checking systems and preparing for the emergency landing they would soon make at the compound. Andy studied the petite, dark-haired woman with the helmet that looked too big on her. Mia’s flying skills were legendary; exceeded only by her looks.
Buffeted in his seat, Andy felt the pressure wave that reached out to them from where the Radio Building had been. Now it was a cloud of dust and debris rising hundreds of feet into the air. The PETN, short for pentaerythritol-tetranitrate, demo charges saw to that. Andy wondered if the gold would melt into large chunks, disintegrate into dust or speckle itself into tons and tons of concrete, brick, and steel.
“Let the bastards try and retrieve it now!”
Andy took little solace that Keith hopefully was also consumed by the blast. While it was better than becoming a DEVO, he still had to endure being eaten alive. Andy realized for the first time that his hands were shaking, a reaction to all the adrenaline his body released over the last few hours. Now sitting in the co-pilot seat with little to do he had excess energy. It wasn’t just the hormone that made his hands shake.
He knew it was something else as well. All-consuming fear at what happened back there. Andy marveled at the reaction he was having at tonight’s action. He had felt this way before, and each time he was amazed how it affected him. In that, he was not alone.
***
Gliding as far to the edge of the light from the overhead flare as he dared, the of the Day Breaker’s boss let out a string of curses. Clutching the M240 he tried in vain to get a shot off towards the VTAL racing toward the harbor. In another second it was gone, the smoke trail it left behind the only thing showing up now in his night vision. Graybeard let the machine gun slump back down on his body as he marched back to the open manhole.
“Boss, what about the Crewmen pinned down and the other one, barely conscious? I think he’s got a broken ankle.”
“Leave them, take them, fuck them—I don’t care. You got maybe a minute of light. I ain’t wasting another flare,” Graybeard shouted.
His thoughts turned to the Radio Building. He wondered what the possibility was they left any of the gold behind in their hasty retreat. At least that Vulcan and the rig are there, he thought to himself as he entered the manhole while some of his crew tried to move the rig off the pinned driver. Graybeard reached the bottom of the ladder, just as he was flung away and back against the sewer wall as chunks of concrete dust and earth fell from the open manhole. A deafening pressure wave roared through the sewer, bursting some eardrums among his Outfit, including his left one. Graybeard looked to the hatch to see what other debris might be coming through it. From the lights of the ATV’s, he could see chunks of concrete and other rubble clogging it as the dust settled.
Graybeard gave no thought to his four team members up top or the two injured Crewmen. Instead, he became enraged. He had it with these infiltration teams and all the advantages that they employed like the Vulcan cannon and the armored rig, which no doubt was the source of the powerful explosion. The gold was gone, either on that VTAL or disintegrated and melted into tons of dirt, concrete and bricks.
Graybeard knew there was more than what those two little peckerwoods took earlier in the day, much more. If he couldn’t get to it and them here in the Dead Zone
, he would take the fight to them. Playtime was over; he was going to start playing for keeps and for real.
He would start with the guy who double-crossed him.
***
Haus, trying to drift off to sleep, or at least rest, jumped to his feet at the blast vibrating the ship. While a whole battle had been going on earlier over there, this was different. Haus’s best guess was that the INFIL-rats had blown themselves and probably the gold as well to smithereens. All his work for naught. Once again, he like all the Outfits, received the short stick. He was sick of constantly being outgunned and out equipped. Those infiltration boys should have stuck to gathering jewelry from the suburbs. The territory down here was his, unaware that in fact it was now Graybeard’s. Even if he knew about the treachery committed by his former Outfitter, in his current predicament, there was little that he could do.
That would change starting tomorrow.
***
Graybeard popped the emergency eject switch on his H-pod, dumping him out of the Metaverse sim and into boring old real life.
He grunted while swinging his spindly legs over the pod’s edge. With a grimace, he took his first awkward steps against non-simulated gravity in days. The middle-aged man limped across his filthy warehouse converted apartment and raided the fridge for some real food, not that Nutrient chemical sludge. His foot stomped in time with his rising blood pressure.
“Ahhh!”
Graybeard slung the plate of frozen pizza against his 5th Gen “full emersion” H-pod. He bounded over to the sleek machine, the only new anything he owned, with a clean-ish towel and polished his love in a fury.
He spit and shook as the faint laughter of the players still in-world wafted out of the pod.
“You think the game ends just because you unplug? Do you bastards have any idea who you’re fucking with?!” He kept thumping his chest and screaming at the headset even though no one could hear him.
“I’m the motherfuckin’ Graybeard. Even out here, you pieces of shit!”
Shuffling over to his cluttered desk, he ransacked the drawers and chucked ungraded papers in the air. He had to stop a few times and gasp into his inhaler, but soon wrapped his bony fingers around his second favorite toy.
Graybeard slammed a magazine inside and racked the slide back on the old pistol, the aching in his arthritic joints evaporating as real power straightened his back.
“Time to play the next level.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
College Station Texas, 9:27 PM (Real World)
A slightly built, bespectacled man guided his car along University Drive along the periphery of Texas A&M University. Finding a darkened parking lot, the man pulled over so that he could study his GPS in greater detail. After checking the distances, he frowned. He would need to get closer.
The large campus presented some challenges. He needed to be close enough to maintain operational control and far enough away so that he could depart the area quickly once he recovered his asset. The other concern was the security cameras on most of the buildings, and in all the parking lots. To combat that he would not enter the campus or park in any of its lots. It still might be possible that a camera from a distance could spot him. He wasn’t concerned about a real-time detection, he would be long gone before anyone realized what happened. But if those cameras were reviewed afterwards they might, even at a distance give the authorities something to work with. To avoid that he smeared mud all over his license plates and changed his appearance, wearing oversized clothing to appear heavier than he really was. He wore a wig and large hat to further breakup his profile as well as a skin-tight flesh tone mask that would cover his beard and distort his appearance should they get enough to run through a facial recognition program. He hoped that the last few things were just over preparation. If he remained far enough away, particularly on the other side of a busy street the chances of any security system capturing anything that would alert an investigators attention let alone give any hint about him were tiny. Checking the map on the GPS he found a place that might work.
Hensel park was a large space with wooded areas off College Avenue and to the northwest of University Dr. During the day, it was the type of place where you took your dog for some exercise but at night it was mostly deserted. The wooded area gave cover to those with nowhere to live or others with more nefarious intentions. The man had no need to cover himself in the woods, for what he needed to do the grassy areas just beyond the parking lot not far in from the road would be perfect.
Pulling in he saw a couple of other cars but they would not be a problem. Once he moved a short distance into the park the lights from the lot would blind anyone peering into the shadows. It was perfect, or at least as perfect as was currently available. He checked his GPS; a little more than nine-tenths of a mile to Evans Library. Further than he would have preferred but within his operational range.
Consulting his phone, he brought up the Friend Finder App. His target was in the Library but soon should be moving. The man was amazed how easily, by connecting with the young man via social media, he could gain permission to access such information. Of course, his target’s job as a courtesy escort for the university and the fact that he represented himself as a young voluptuous coed and not someone who could be his objective’s father or grandfather helped.
Moving to the rear of the car the oddly dressed figure with the large hat popped open the trunk. Reaching inside, he opened a large case and lifted out a black disc a foot and a half in diameter, and perhaps a half foot thick along with a smaller container. Closing the trunk, he walked onto the grass and out of both the parking lot and nearby street lights. After about twenty-five meters, the man stopped and looked around. His car remained quite visible but where he stood the opposite was true; no one could see him from the other cars, which as far as he could tell appeared empty anyway.
He placed the disc down on the grass, resting it on four legs that held it above the turf a good foot while holding onto the small container. Below the center of the disc hanging from a swivel arm were a half-dozen cylinders about eight inches long and open at one end.
Reaching into the case, the man lifted out a control device with two levers and a few other switches and thumb dials. He took his phone and docked it on top of it where it rested at a slight angle away from the controller.
He tapped the phone screen, and the device came to life with a faint hum. Small lights near the base of the legs lit up, green on one side red on the other along with a little flashing one on top of the main body of the disc.
The man cursed as he combed the menu on the app to kill the lights, which after a few seconds of searching he did. Returning to the activation menu, he selected some other options and tapped on them. Six small cylinders shot out and extended from the disc. At the end of each cylinder, a propeller system consisting of five blades unfolded. Another tap and all six began spinning.
A camera view emerged on his cell screen with a green glow. The view was from ground level and although it was a moonless night the grass and the area beyond were crystal clear on the display. Cycling to the navigation screen from a button on the controller, the man confirmed the flight path the drone was to follow and that it adjusted for its present location.
His finger pushed the autopilot, and the disc with the spinning rotor blades leaped into the night air and disappeared overhead. After a moment or two, the slight buzzing was no longer perceptible to anyone on the ground as it reached its assigned altitude.
Returning to his vehicle, he sat down on the driver’s side. The large multi-function monitor built into the dashboard displayed the same view from the camera. It no longer covered the sidewalk, but focused on the buildings, streets and sidewalks 200 feet below. The drone followed its preprogrammed coordinates before entering an oval pattern over some buildings that it would continue to hover over while he searched for his target.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Young Christopher Harvey patrolled the university grounds
around Evans Library and between the adjacent areas as a Courtesy Escort; accompanying mostly female students to their car or back to their residence hall, either on foot or via golf cart. Besides being an excellent way to meet women, it helped him earn some extra cash. Money that he sorely needed now that his other plans failed to come to fruition.
Christopher had spent all his available currency plus a relatively significant amount that he stole from his parents to finance what turned out to be a boondoggle. The money alone would have pissed them off royally. But if his father knew what he downloaded from his work computer he would have been disowned, and his father fired. He didn’t care. It was worth the risk for something he was obsessed about, addicted even.
His father was Vice President of Operations for Digital Adventures. A large company that specialized in unique emersion experiences into an utterly realistic Metaverse world. He left his work laptop unattended for a few minutes when a neighbor came to the door. Just long enough for Christopher to get what he needed. He had been patiently awaiting such an opportunity to get the valuable information. Information that would make him quite wealthy in the real world, and spectacularly so in the Metaverse. Of course, as the son of a high-level executive of the firm that built the sim and hid the treasures, known in-world as trophies, he couldn’t claim it himself. Christopher had come up with a grand scheme, partnering with other adventurers as players were known since the experience was not just a game to be played.
“As real as it gets!” was the tagline that Digital Adventures touted on all their marketing materials.
Neither of the other adventurers knew Christopher was working with the other. He planned on double-crossing both, hoping that one would blame the other while he used the third group of adventurers to claim the treasure through, removing all links back to him. It would look like the storyline played out in a typical way between warring factions.
METAVERSE GAMES: OMNIBUS Page 17
