Tungsten’s Pass
“You’re crazy.” Captain Fischer cupped his head in his hands, exasperated, “Look, I know you are an authority and all, but there is no way that Kogan would take Viper down.”
Alex and Fischer had hit it off after a brief awkward phase, and were making the most out of the long, bumpy ride by arguing over Verdia’s oldest question. Alex shook his head, “You should accept my expertise here; I know how the game works. In a stand-up fight Viper would have no chance against Kogan. The way I see it, Kogan is a perfect counter to Viper.”
“You’re saying it wouldn’t even be close?” Fischer sputtered.
“It might look close to a spectator, but I would put all my money on Kogan every time.”
“Do you have a reason for this insanity?” Fischer leaned back against the hard bench seat and crossed his arms. His gray eyes were mocking.
Alex leaned forward, “Okay, you’re Viper and I’m Kogan. Come at me.”
“Are we doing magic or weapons?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, I dash in and roll under your...”
“I stun you and smash your head in.” Alex grinned, “Try again.”
“I root you in place with ice and zap your face with lightning...”
“I cleanse the ice, my shield absorbs the lightning. I stun you and smash your head in.”
“It’s not like I’m naked,” Fischer was indignant, “I’m wearing dragonbone these days. You can’t just hit me once and call it done.”
“Have you seen Kogan’s mace? It would be like getting hit with a small car,” Alex scoffed. “Fine, you survive the first hit and my stun is down for a minute. What now?”
“I step inside your swing and hit you under the arm with an axe.” Fischer patted his ribcage under his left arm.
“Good hit.” Alex smiled, “I heal all of the damage and now I move twenty percent faster. I hit you in the head again.”
“You miss,” Fischer retorted. “I’m Viper, not a practice dummy. I roll around and hit you again in the back. This time I also blast you with dark bolts and you lose your speed buff.”
“That tickles. I spin around and catch you with the shield, and you fly forty feet in the air.”
Fischer laughed, “Okay this is silly. I still think it would be a close match, and that Viper would hack him up.”
“It would be a long, drawn-out match. Kogan just has to wait him out. Eventually, Viper will run out of energy, and…”
Alex was cut off by a series of deep thuds. Pings and plinks, like metal raindrops, rippled across the Stryker’s hull. A radio crackled, “Beagle Seven reports inbound. We have inbound rockets! Ridge at ten o’clock! Inbound!”
There were more thuds, and Alex was nearly thrown out of his seat. A soldier yelled at him to put on his restraints. “What’s going on?” Alex shouted.
Fischer shrugged, “Someone is trying to slow us down.”
Rhythmic thumping rang in Alex’s ears; somewhere up the line a Stryker was returning fire with its main cannon.
“Stop that!” Alex yelled. He pleaded with Fischer, “You have to make them stop. This is ridiculous; there is no need to fire back.”
“Sorry, sir,” Fischer replied. “We have orders to do whatever it takes to end this quickly, and that includes suppressing anyone who tries to stop us. I have a feeling you know who’s firing the rockets. Do you think you could make him stop by talking to him?”
“Yeah,” Alex muttered, “I have a good idea who it is. And no, he wouldn’t stop.”
…
Limerick grinned. Pointlessly, the rapid-fire cannon battered chunks from trees on the opposite ridge. He had teleported to safety moments before, and the soldiers were now attacking an empty target.
Wooded hills on either side of the path made for excellent cover. Harassing these intruders all the way to Ra’ah was going to be the most fun he had had for quite some time. He adjusted his goggles up and prepared to move.
His rockets, constructed of thick paper and gunpowder, had done superficial damage to some vehicles. Damage was not his intent; the purpose of the salvo had been distraction, and it had worked.
Somewhere in the forest below, Doc was setting charges around a suitable tree. He would need several more minutes, and Limerick intended to buy him some time.
Limerick struck a match and dropped it on a small pile of gunpowder. A black line of the wonderful mixture ran to an array of twenty more rockets, each one nearly as big as Limerick.
He pulled a flag from the ground - blue with a golden compass. Anywhere Limerick had been before, or anywhere one of these flags was planted, Limerick could visit in an instant. Kate was riding in front of him, planting flags along the path to Ra’ah. He would be able to pester these idiots all the way home, and more importantly convince them that the Explorers were actually trying to slow them down.
Limerick raised his cane and vanished in a green burst. He returned beside another flag, this one planted behind a rock outcropping on a high hill. From atop the rock he had a clear view of the road. This overlook lined him up with a blind corner; exposing targets on the road and protecting him.
“Nice job, Kate,” Limerick said proudly. He pulled Quigley out of its bag - the enormous rifle extending from the small pouch in cartoon fashion - and scrambled up the rock face. Lying prone on the warm rock, he peered through Quigley’s iron sights, and waited.
…
Somewhere ahead, the cannon finally ceased pounding away at the forest. A brief respite was all that Alex got before another salvo of rockets whooshed in from the hillside. Explosions rippled down the road among the vehicles. Alex felt his teeth rattle as the Stryker shuddered.
“How is he aiming those things?” Fischer wondered aloud. “We need to hire this man.”
“Four o’ clock!” the radio barked, and the pounding resumed.
“How much ammo do you guys carry?” Alex asked. “He’s moved somewhere else. He probably teleported before the rockets were in the air.”
Fischer grabbed the radio, “Hunter Actual, this is Bloodhound Actual.”
“This is White, go ahead Fischer.”
“Is Grave advising you to fire into the trees, sir?”
“He thinks it’s a waste of ammunition. I think we need to kill this bastard and set an example,” White replied. “Is that a problem?”
“No sir. I was just making sure that our guide was advising you properly.” Fischer shrugged and tossed the handset back toward the radio, “Well I tried.”
After several seconds, the pounding stopped.
Alex grinned, “Looks like it worked. They need to just calm down. Cardboard rockets aren’t going to hurt you. Limerick will get bored if you ignore him.”
“Are you sure he’s doing this for fun? When I was briefed he was listed as a threat. Why does he care?”
Alex sighed, “Some folks have this crazy notion that people should be left alone to do what makes them happy. I guess he’s among them.”
A massive shockwave rushed through the forest, and the Stryker lurched to a stop. Grinding, groaning rumbles shook the air followed by a sudden thump. Birds screamed and whistled as they flocked out of the treetops.
“…tree down in the road,” the radio buzzed. “…sending a team…”
Whoever was speaking was clearly at the front of the convoy; radios in Verdia had a frustratingly short range. Omni’s explanation was magnetic fields, but Alex did not believe that for a second.
“How will they clear the tree?” Alex asked.
“They’ll line it with explosives and blow it; shouldn’t take too long.” Fischer replied.
“Five bucks says they are dead in the next twenty seconds.”
“We’re talking about Marines here,” Fischer laughed. “I’ll take that bet.”
Far away there was a sharp and severe crack. The sound echoed up and down the valley before fading into silence.
“…sniper… twelve…” the radio his
sed again. “…head wound…”
Another crack, and the radio went silent.
“You owe me five bucks.”
Before Fischer could reply, White began barking orders over the radio, “Stay in the vehicles. Allied forces will neutralize the threat.”
“So he’s sending Grave out?” Alex mused. “Best decision he’s made yet if he wants to get out of this valley.”
…
Limerick dropped down from the rock and brushed off his pants. He had sent two baddies back to the start line before he noticed a turret tracking toward him. Sure enough, screaming shells began crashing into the outcropping. Stone fragments peppered the surrounding rocks, and the air filled with acrid smoke.
Doc was not waiting at the next flag as they had planned. Doc was never late; this was not good. Limerick popped a fresh shell into Quigley and dove into the forest. Branches tugged at his coat and threatened to knock his hat off. Verdia was always trying to take his hat.
He was running toward the enemy, which was foolish, but he could not leave his friend behind. Kate and Doc had been with Limerick as long as he had been playing the game. They were like family; more so than the family he had in the real world. He understood what the kid with the wolf was going through; it was hard to be alone.
Limerick hopped over a small ridge and entered the blast zone. Fifty yards away, Doc had dropped a monstrous tree, and dropped it perfectly. Splinters littered the forest floor - debris from the explosive charge that had cracked the trunk. He couldn’t see the road, but at least one Stryker was visible as it idled behind the massive tree; a black silhouette on a green canvas.
“Doc?” he called out hoarsely. “Where the hell are you?”
“Over here sir. I seem to have injured my foot while making my getaway.” Doc’s voice drifted over from behind a nearby tree, calm but tinged with pain.
“Hold still,” Limerick called back. He stepped toward the tree, “I’ll be over there in a second and we can get out of here.”
A burst of rapid fire splattered the trees with bullets. Instinctively, Limerick dove behind a fallen log. He quickly pulled a small mirror from his vest and poked it over the moss-covered log. Creeping away from the road and headed toward him were four Marines with assault rifles - and Grave. Grave was carrying something smaller; a submachine gun.
The mirror disappeared back into his vest. Limerick looked down at his single-shot rifle and frowned, “This isn’t fair.”
…
Grave clicked his tongue, “That one’s on me. It’s been a while and I got a bit trigger-happy.” He crouched low and pushed his MP-5 against its shoulder harness, “Y’all keep yer chins tucked in. Yer armor will stop his slugs, but yer faces won’t. Y’all miss. I miss. He don’t miss. Don’t give ‘em a target.”
A sharp crack on their left sent the Marines diving for cover. Grave wriggled sideways in a gray blur, and a fountain of leaves and dirt erupted at his feet. He leaned back against a tree trunk.
“I thought you said he didn’t miss,” one Marine commented, searching for a target down his rifle sights.
“He didn’ miss, I dodged. Two differnt’ things.” Grave spat, “I don’ think you can dodge, they don’t teach that at Parris Island.”
Another crack, this time from the right, and a Marine vanished in a green mist. His rifle dropped to the ground along with his gear and a dented ballistic helmet.
“I warnt’ you,” Grave sniggered. “Keep yer’ head down. Stay here and try to look like you know what yer doin’.” Grave dissolved into black smoke.
…
Limerick lined up his next shot. He activated an ability that would allow him to bank off a stone to hit his target. His goggles provided vision of a Marine hiding behind a tree; a red and blue outline of heat with a beating heart. Limerick held his breath as he waited for his target to turn his head ever so slightly…
He squeezed the trigger and Quigley roared. A blue streak hissed through the air and struck a boulder with an exaggerated ping. The streak bounced off the boulder and buried itself in the Marine’s left eye. Another rifle hit the forest floor.
Limerick sprinted to a new position; singing bullets whipped through the leaves behind him. He was working his way closer to Doc. He merely needed to get to his friend and he could teleport away. Doc’s heat signature loomed behind a tree trunk less than fifty feet away. A flash of light in Limerick’s goggles signaled that he had an open shot on his left.
Quigley spoke again; a Marine had peeked out of cover for a split second, and received some lead fillings in his teeth. Now, there was only one Marine to worry about - and Grave. White smoke drifted out of Quigley’s barrel. Limerick drew a small pistol from its holster and jumped out of cover.
Before the remaining Marine could bring his rifle to bear, Limerick shot him between the eyes. A red line traced the air from Limerick’s pistol to the Marine’s forehead.
“Completely unfair,” Limerick smirked and dropped the pistol into a magic pouch - to be reloaded later.
“I’m gettin’ tired of this.” Grave pressed Doc against a tree trunk, with the barrel of the MP5 against Doc’s chest, “Yer standin’ between me and what’s mine.”
Limerick quickly turned and drew another pistol, lowering it when he saw Doc. Grave was comically tiny standing beside Doc; the tips of his ears barely coming to Doc’s navel, but the gun he carried was no joke. Grave made no attempt to hide behind the Brutalli; trusting that Limerick had figured out that he would dodge any bullet coming his way.
“Is this about money? Is Dalton paying you for this?” Limerick let the pistol fall to his side, “I can pay you more.”
Grave spat, “You think I need money? I’ve kilt more dragons than you. There ain’t a corner of this world I ain’t seen. I’m purty comfortable to be honest. There’s only one thing that I want.”
“What is that?” Limerick asked nervously.
“I want revenge on a certain feather-wearin’ basterd,” Grave hissed, “and yer slowin’ me down.”
“Fine. I don’t like Viper either.” Limerick’s smile was placating, “Let Doc go and I’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m not so sure ‘bout that. I don’t think you know how serious I am. I can kill ya, sure, but you won’t stay kilt. You’ll be back, and we’ll do this again and again. I think you need to lose somethin’ else; somethin’ that will stay dead.” Grave raised the barrel of his gun toward Doc’s face, “You need to know that I mean it.”
“Wait!” Limerick shook his head in despair, “I’ll help you.”
“Sir!” Doc protested, “It’s not worth it. Don’t help him.”
“Shut up, Doc,” Limerick growled.
Grave laughed, “And how are you gonna’ help me? I don’ need yer help to shoot Sparkle Britches in the throat. I ain’t as good a shot as you, but I’m good ‘nuff.”
Limerick hung his head, “I know something that will help you. Let him go and I’ll tell you.”
“Please, sir,” Doc implored. “If you help him then this is all for nothing. Please leave me here.”
“How ‘bout you tell me,” Grave sneered, “and then I’ll think about lettin’ ‘im go.”
“They aren’t going to Ra’ah,” Limerick muttered. Doc slumped his shoulders and shook his head.
“Come again?”
“They are taking the wolf to the White Plateau. You’re going the wrong way.”
Grave thought silently for a moment before responding, “If yer tellin’ the truth, why are you out here?”
“I wanted to keep you focused on moving forward, so you wouldn’t think too deeply about their real plans,” Limerick replied.
“But why do you care ‘bout some little brat and his mutt?”
“I walked in on a group of men plotting against someone who is different than they are. Why do you think I care?” Limerick replied. “I say let him find happiness; why should someone else get to dictate what brings him joy?”
“Well now you
’ve betrayed ‘im to protect somethin’ that’s important to you. That must make you feel guilty as hell.” Grave shook his head in mock sadness, “Tell you what, I’ll make it easy on ya’. I will help assuage your guilt by evenin’ them scales.
The submachine gun spat three times, spraying the trees with blood. Doc groaned and collapsed.
“No!” Limerick screamed and raised his pistol.
Grave swam forward in a dark cloud. Limerick fired into empty air. Leaves and brush kicked up from all sides, and a pair of dark shadows clutching black knives exploded out of the ground. They raced toward Limerick, howling like demons.
Limerick bailed out - instantly vanishing and returning to Verdia City.
Slowly, the smoky shadows took form, and Grave stood over Doc’s body. Sniggering, the Pariah spat on the corpse. He slung his submachine gun and trudged back toward the convoy.
…
“Threat neutralized. Stand by to receive orders.”
Alex’s eyes flicked to the radio in disbelief, “What did they mean by threat neutralized?”
Fischer shrugged, “They must have got him. We both know that Grave is ruthless.”
Alex grabbed the radio handset, “Do you have any idea how much influence Limerick has with our customers? If his account was wiped and he raises a stink about it...”
“Listen here,” White’s voice crackled over the radio, “This is my mission and I will accomplish it as I see fit. Limerick was not killed, his account is intact. However Grave assures me that there will not be a problem. He shot an NPC named Doc and scared Limerick off. We have some new intel; we’re going to draw up in a small town five clicks from here for a briefing. Stay off my radio unless you’re using it to lend a hand, Olson.”
Alex let the handset dangle and slumped back in his seat, “This is madness. I can’t believe Omni is putting up with this.”
“Why is this game even around?” Fischer asked. “You’ve got all of this computing power; infinite possibilities, and so far all you have used it for is a game, some chemical patents, and a handful of government projects. Why aren’t we using Omni to cure cancer or unlock the secrets of the universe?”
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