Kill Me Now
Page 5
“We’re in this together.”
“We are. Though if you could get close enough to the wall and hold still, I could transfer through the city’s defense network.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This gate is closed, but if you continue around the perimeter of the city, we can reach gate twenty-seven. The DSMP flatty is waiting with your Ranger.”
The 197 lurches sideways as one of the treads comes off, whipping around like an angry cobra. Beneath the treads are wheels. The left side churns up sand and soil, fighting for enough traction to keep up with the fully functioning right side treads. I lean into the controls to keep it straight.
“Don’t attempt a transfer through the defense network. Park yourself in the mobile, and I’ll carry you to the Ranger and plug you in. That’ll be faster.”
“Unless you die.”
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Why’d they put the Ranger out here? If I hadn’t shown up, the stupid CCE would probably nuke it.”
“My analysis of radio traffic just prior to our arrival suggests Trade Minister Redmore pulled some strings to have it brought there, and left a notation suggesting he didn’t believe you’d ever fought a Goliath and said you’d prove it if you weren’t a…”
“Yeah, fine. Let’s just get in that thing before the 197 falls apart.”
Mortars strike ground, fountaining dirt into the air.
“Ammunition update: you’re out of ammo.”
“Thanks, CAI. That was really fucking helpful.”
“Recommendation: run faster.”
My Ranger looks awesome. I don’t remember having it washed and waxed before it was impounded, but maybe I did. There’s a better-than-average chance that I was showing off before consuming mass quantities of alcohol. Either way, it looks ready to go.
It’s in far better shape than the rattletrap I’m trying to limp forward.
“Pat, James, can either of you hear me?”
“We hear you,” Pat says. “Almost everyone in the city is listening and watching your battle. The city defenses are almost in place. If you don’t hold those CCE mechs a little longer, the city’s going to be overrun. They’ll break down the gatehouse with no trouble. UNA forces were pulled away on a diversion and are en route soonest.”
“Great. How about a little help?”
“You want us to come out there?”
“Never mind,” I say, focusing my attention on how dead I’m going to get when I run from the 197 to my Ranger. The volume of mortar and machine gun fire almost hides the rockets streaking in.
“Those assholes really don’t want us in the Ranger.”
“It seems our squad mates are going to help us,” CAI says. “Be prepared to run for on my mark. Once you begin, I will not be able to assist you until you plug in the mobile and I have time to sync up with the Ranger.”
“Details, CAI. I’ve got to have a plan.”
“Three, two, one—run for it, Shorty!”
Several of Pat’s mortars arch from inside the city and drop on my pursuers. I grab the mobile and scramble out of the dying 197. Right before I sprint across the hellish landscape of explosions, I see James has climbed to the wall summit in his Laser class mech.
That’s a pretty neat trick. I’m surprised he managed it. He lets loose with his energy weapons. They’re underpowered but precise, and they keep the four remaining CCE IVs busy.
I wish Pat could bring his howitzer into the fight, but the gate remains locked.
Up into my mech and down into my control seat, I’m slamming the mobile in place without consideration for safety protocols. Scratching the interior of the Ranger makes me flinch. Outside, it’s a scarred mess from all the battles we’ve been in—no matter how much I waxed it before hitting the town. Inside, I like to keep it nice.
It’s my inner sanctum. It’s me.
“CAI, can you hear me?”
No response.
I power up. Pat and James and the few available city defenses fire on my pursuers. One of the CCE mechs goes down under the onslaught. Three remain, and that’s going to be a problem for me.
“CAI!”
No response.
The moment my power levels hit green, I start running. It feels good. The 197 felt like driving a skid-steer with legs. The Ranger is like running with augmented arms and legs.
There’s no cover near the walls, so I head for the river that feeds into Delta City. It’s a two-stage in its progress through the urban area, the most important of which is the hydroelectric dam. The water leading up to it is practically a lake.
I run straight at it. Three missions go, I upgraded my Ranger’s aquatic capabilities and cursed the expense. “CAI, if you’re online can you tell me if we’re watertight.”
No response. Not even a single click. I look at the mobile to make sure it’s connected properly.
Submarine operations work like this: I sink. Fast. But I steer on the way down. Sooner or later I’ll have to walk on the bottom or climb rocks. Silt from the river delta will soft-kill me unless I can reach the manmade foundation of the dam.
“I really wish I’d checked my amphibious operations more regularly.”
The CCE IVs can swim. Their entire invasion fleet just came out of the ocean, after all. They have air bladders and expandable dorsal fins.
Several loud clicks and hums fill the cockpit, but CAI can’t talk if he, she, it’s there.
Pat and James try to contact me on the squad channel but I’m busy. The Ranger doesn’t have powered shields like the 197. I have to dodge incoming fire.
Weaving toward the river like a drunk swatting away bees, I’m wishing the entire city wasn’t watching me on live television.
But it’s still great to be back in the Ranger.
“I’ve got to say, Shorty, there’s no place like home,” CAI says.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Can you tell me if we’re airtight?”
“Are we going for a swim?” CAI asks. “Recommendation: conduct system checks before going underwater.”
“If that’s a joke, it wasn’t funny.”
The CCE mechs close the gap, shooting me with tracer rounds to gauge the distance. I’m pretty sure rockets are coming next.
At the edge of the water, I dive.
Three of the Chinese war machines follow me. I see them on my HUD radar. Directly ahead of us is the hydroelectric dam. Each of the hydroelectric turbines is fifty meters in diameter. I’m already feeling the pull.
Which is good.
Sinking to the bottom—bad.
Getting sucked through the dam—also bad.
“Recommendation: stay away from the turbines. Failure to do so will result in total equipment destruction and your death.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.”
I flare my aftermarket wings, understanding they weren’t designed for this but hoping they’ll give me a maneuverability boost. Numbers flash on my screen indicating the strain on the wings is too much and they’re about to snap off.
“I’m curious to know your plan,” CAI says.
“We’re going to land directly between turbines three and four. The CCE dumb asses will get sucked through, causing a shutdown,” I say.
“That could work,” CAI admits. “The odds are distinctly against us, but it’s a possibility...”
“Don’t tell me the odds!”
“Strange. I’m getting a lot of message requests through social media. We’re definitely linked into the city’s communication hub now.”
“Irrelevant!” Steering hard, I land with my feet on a pillar of concrete. Standing horizontally reminds me of antigravity training but worse.
“One of the two-thousand and forty-three instant messages filling your inbox is from Jessica.”
“Holy shit, CAI, we’ve gone viral!”
“She sent a picture.”
“Put it up.”
“Recommendation: save the image for la
ter. It will be distracting.”
“Why do you do these things to me. CAI!”
“The CCE IV units are approaching.”
My butthole clenches shut. Fear causes my hands to tremble. Every muscle in my body tenses for impact.
If my pursuers manage to land where I landed, we’re all tumbling into the screaming turbines.
“What can we do, CAI?”
“Recommendation: pray.”
This catches me off guard, but I do it, wondering if a lightning bolt will hit me because I haven’t been to church since the orphanage on Galberg VIII.
“God, please don’t let us die.”
“Us?”
“Give me a break, CAI. I’m under a bit of stress here.”
“Recommendation: assume the quiet bug posture for stability.”
“Way ahead of you, but fucking thanks.”
The first CCE mech goes straight into the turbine, causing what looks and feels like the end of our underwater world. Complete chaos. The sound vibrates the concrete support pillar I’m crouched on.
“UNA quick reaction forces have arrived to defend the city. Good job, Shorty. You’ve saved the day.”
“Great. But I’m not feeling saved.”
“We’re going to die. Permission to transfer to another computer that is less underwater?”
“Ah, CAI, why would you leave me like that?”
Right now it looks like the other two CCE mechs will reach my spot because the suction from the turbines is diminishing rapidly.
“Get in that hole, you jerkoffs!”
CAI makes a series of clicks and beeps. “I’m detecting humorous responses from the two hundred and five thousand residents of Delta City currently watching this debacle.”
“Oops. Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.”
“No, I’m not.”
And in they go, right through the second set of turbines. The load is too much for the hydroelectric dam and they all shut down. Once the blades stop, the openings close for about five hundred safety reasons.
The bottom of the river-lake is quiet. Silt drifts in the water that’s stopped rushing into the dam.
“How much does a hydroelectric dam cost?”
CAI makes me wait, which is a real dick move because I know his software can process numbers a lot faster than this.
“A reward for saving the city has already been transferred to your account. Most of it is being garnished: assessed damages, fines, miscellaneous fees, and tied up with paternity lawsuits.”
“What?”
“I added that last part because my analysis suggested it would evoke a humorous response from Shorty.”
“Here’s my recommendation: you’re not funny.”
“That’s not actually a recommendation.”
“Whatever. Let’s climb out of this cesspool before I run out of air.”
“Good job, Shorty. This was almost as epic as fighting the Goliath. Almost.”
A bead of sweat rolls down my back, right to the crack of my ass, completing a day full of aggravation. “You’re killing me, CAI.”
“Pulling up contact information for Jessica. Sending an instant message… now.”
“You’re my boy, CAI! What’d she say?”
“Processing response.”
I so want to call him a lying asshole. Processing? Really?
“She says come alone and bring a camera.”
About the Author
Scott Moon has been writing fantasy, science fiction, and urban fantasy since he was a kid. When not reading, writing, or spending time with his awesome family, he enjoys playing the guitar or learning Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He loves dogs and plans to have a ranch full of them when he makes it big. One will be a Rottweiler named Frodo. He is also a co-host of the popular Keystroke Medium show.
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