Argonauts 1: Bug Hunt

by Isaac Hooke

  “As much as I love the Argonaut’s AI,” Rade said. “It isn’t much of a counselor.”

  “Then we’ll download a specialized AI,” Shaw said. “You can begin your sessions as soon as you get back.”

  “It’s not going to help,” Rade said.

  “What about some of those meds Fret was talking about?”

  Rade sighed. “What I’m doing out here, right now, this is my healing, Shaw. Trust me.”

  “Then how come every time things get intense, when it’s all over you lock yourself away and zone out?” she said. “Well not every time, but close enough.”

  “It’s the adrenalin hangover,” Rade said. “That’s all it is.”

  “All right. Well, I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

  Rade had to smile at that. “You do that, baby girl.”

  “Love you,” she sent.

  Love you back. But he couldn’t say the words aloud.

  The robots cut through the door and let the rectangular slab topple. Inside, at the end of a short hallway, a secondary seal formed the remainder of an airlock, protecting the rooms beyond from the now deadly external atmosphere.

  “Cut it,” Rade sent the robots.

  The robots climbed the inner door, which was just as wide and tall as the first, and applied their cutters. Air misted forth as the atmosphere beyond decompressed.

  Rade relieved himself, and from his leg a crystalline yellow stream formed. It desublimated into mist as he watched.

  “It’s a bit cold out there,” Harlequin said from his side.

  “Just a bit,” Rade replied.

  “I saw your lips moving a few moments ago,” Harlequin said on a private line. “Is Shaw giving you trouble?”

  “Harlequin,” Rade said. “Don’t you know it’s rude to read lips?”

  “Sorry, boss,” the Artificial replied.

  The pair remained quiet for several moments.

  “I’ve undergone training as a therapist,” Harlequin said. “If you wanted—”

  “No, I don’t,” Rade interrupted.

  As more of the surface area was cut, and the lab building’s atmosphere vented out even faster, the metal inner door began to bend outward from the pressure. Before the robots finished cutting, the venting ceased entirely. They finished their work and pulled the inner door down. As requested, the openings were now wide enough to fit the Hoplites, though it would be a tight fit.

  Rade sent the HS3s and Centurions in to clear the building. These models of HS3s were void capable, and utilized a large quantity of extremely high pressure propellant when atmosphere wasn’t present.

  After several minutes, the HS3s had mapped out three floors and several hallways. Most doors were locked, so Rade instructed the Centurions to begin cutting through and clearing the individual rooms. The contents were what would be expected of a lab dealing in bioengineering, and included centrifuges, microscopes, RNA printers, and incinerators. In one room, the walls were lined with shelves filled with vials. The labels on the vials indicated different genetic material, according to Lui.

  In another locked area, the robots discovered several operating tables and Weaver surgical units.

  “Looks like we found where Zoltan conducted his experiments on captured colonists,” Manic said.

  On the far side of the room, a window overlooked a gymnasium-sized room. Within resided jungle trees and shrubs. A younger, unarmored version of the reptilian bioweapons was lying down amid the foliage. It appeared sickly, its breath seeming to come in wheezes.

  “Looks like daddy has been neglecting his baby dinosaur,” Bender said.

  “You think it’s pressurized in there?” Manic said.

  “Looks like it,” Lui replied.

  “You say Zoltan experimented on the colonists he captured, Manic?” Fret transmitted.

  “That’s right,” Manic replied.

  “Well,” Fret said. “I think he only took them to the Weavers to sedate them, and then he dumped them into the cage for his pets to eat. Creatures like that aren’t going to grow overnight you know.”

  “Easier to buy meat in bulk from the traders,” Manic said. “And it definitely looks like this Zoltan could afford it.”

  “Yeah sure,” Fret said. “But how often do the traders come to this backwater system?”

  “We still have a few locked doors,” Rade said. “Centurions, finish clearing out the building.”

  “I don’t think we’ll find Ms. Bounty here,” Tahoe sent Rade, privately. “Or this Zoltan character.”

  “No,” Rade replied. “And that’s what’s troubling me. We have no idea where Ms. Bounty went. If we don’t find her soon, we’re going to have to abandon this planet and let the appropriate authorities sort it out a few weeks from now.”

  “But if we do that, we’ll default on our debt next month,” Tahoe said. “Ms. Bounty only paid the deposit.”

  “I know,” Rade said. “Which is why we’re not leaving until we absolutely have to. I want to search the pedway system after this. It’s the next logical place she would be, given how restricted communications are down there. And now that the repair swarm has opened a path for us...”

  “But how did she get down there in the first place?” Tahoe said. “If it was all blocked off, like the colonists say?”

  “I don’t know,” Rade said. “Obviously there’s another entrance somewhere. An opening that the bioweapons couldn’t use to get out.”

  “Speaking of the bioweapons,” Tahoe said. “There are still four of them out here.”

  “We have a pretty good handle on how to take them down by now, I think,” Rade said.

  “Maybe,” Tahoe replied. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll go quietly.”

  As the Centurions worked at cutting open the next room, the rooftop Rade perched upon began to shake in repeated bursts, as if in tune with the steps of some approaching giant.

  “Anyone else feel that?” Manic said. The mechs would transmit the vibrations to their pilots.

  “Looks like our friends are coming back,” Rade said.

  He wondered if the bioweapons had roared at any point. If they had, he wouldn’t have heard it—the atmosphere was currently too thin to carry sound effectively.

  “AIs, trade readings,” Rade said. “Attempt to triangulate the source of the vibrations.”

  The AIs in the mechs and robots spent several moments processing the data, and then the Praetor reported: “We’ve detected three sources, not one. The first is somewhere to the east. The second, the west. The third, the south.”

  “No fourth source?” Rade said.

  “No,” the Praetor replied.

  Where are you?

  Maybe the mayor was wrong about the number.

  “All right,” Rade said. “Hoplites, to the rooftops. Harlequin, you’re going to wait by the entrance, and lure them.”

  “Why do I always have to be the bait?” Harlequin said as he leaped down.

  “Because you’re the AI,” Rade told him.

  “What the hell is that?” Tahoe said.

  “Where?” Rade asked.

  “To the north!” Tahoe replied.

  Rade zoomed in on the northern rooftops and saw them. Floating metallic dots, glistening in the sun, and fast approaching. A swarm of them.

  “Oh shit,” Lui said. “We got more Perdix drones. These ones look like they’re propellant-based. I’m counting at least two hundred.”

  “We really have to invest in a Repellent system,” Bender said.

  “Yeah,” Rade agreed. “Change of plans. Everyone inside the damn building! We’ll defend the entrance.”

  Considering that the party had exhausted most of its grenade inventory, staying outside wasn’t the best idea.

  The Hoplites rushed inside the building in single file. Past the airlock, they deployed their shields and aimed their cobras outside.

  Rade entered the foyer. He recalled the Centurions from their explorations of the lab, and with them and
Harlequin he assumed a firing position around the bend of the inner hatch. He remained completely in cover, but held his weapon past the edge, switching his point of view to the scope.

  The entrance proved a good choke point for the drones, and as the units jetted inside, the team members took them down by the score.

  One of the bioweapons arrived and promptly rushed the airlock. As expected, its six-meter-tall body was too big to fit; the armored creature plunged its long neck inside but the head didn’t reach the inner opening.

  “Shoot the exposed feet!” Rade said.

  But before anyone could respond, a thick wall slammed down over the inner hatch. Rade barely pulled his rifle away before it was crushed.

  More heavy blocks descended from the ceiling, these ones sealing off the remaining outer walls, along with the windows.

  “What the hell...?” Rade said.

  “I think some sort of automated defense system just activated,” TJ said. “Blast shields are lowering.”

  “Can you shut off that system?” Rade asked.

  “I don’t know,” TJ said. “Don’t think so.”

  Lui stepped forward in his Hoplite. Space was at a premium in the foyer, and he had to shove past a couple of the other mechs to reach Rade. He placed the flat palm of his mech on the surface of the new wall.

  “As I suspected,” Lui said. “These seals are made of the same material as the bioweapon armor.”

  Rade glanced at the nearby Centurions. “Cutters, try to make a hole.”

  A moment later, Unit D reported: “Can’t. Our lasers reflect.”

  “Damn it,” Rade said. “Now I’m really starting to wish I’d picked up some plasma rifles.”

  “There’s no guarantee it would have helped,” Lui said.

  “Shaw,” Rade transmitted. “Can the Argonaut get a clear shot at the front door of this building?”

  No answer.

  “Shaw?” Rade tried again. “Do you read? Shaw?”

  “There’s too much lead in the material,” Fret said. “We’ve lost all connection to the outside world.”

  “Centurions and HS3s,” Rade sent. “Make a circuit of this place. Check all the outer walls, and see if there’s anywhere the blast shields missed.”

  “Roger that,” the Praetor replied.

  Rade turned toward Fret’s Hoplite. “You remember those abandoned shuttles and evac craft Lui detected in the different hangars around the dome?”

  “I do,” Fret replied.

  “Try to piggyback your signal onto one of their comm nodes,” Rade said. If they could do that, in theory they would be able to reach Shaw.

  “Trying...” Fret replied. A moment later: “I’m getting nothing. Can’t poke through these blast shields.”

  A few minutes later the Praetor reported in. The robot’s voice was fairly distorted, and it was only because of the adhoc network formed by the HS3s and other Centurions between Rade and the Praetor that Rade could understand it at all. “All walls and exits have been sheathed in the laser-resistant blast shields.”

  Rade glanced upward. “What about the ceiling on the third floor?”

  “The ceiling is made of the same material,” the unit replied. “We can’t cut through.”

  Rade exhaled in frustration.

  “If it’s a blast shield, won’t it eventually rescind at some point after the external attacks end?” Manic said.

  “You’re assuming the blast shield wasn’t lowered on purpose,” Tahoe said. “By this Zoltan character. To trap us.”

  Fret turned and fired his twin cobras in rapid succession, taking out the dome cameras in the ceiling.

  “Feel better now?” Bender asked.

  “I do,” Fret replied.

  “Still feels like he’s watching us, to me anyway,” Manic said. “Gotta be more hidden cameras here, somewhere.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rade said. “Listen, there are still a few locked doors we haven’t explored. Doors that we can still cut through. Centurions, I want you to penetrate and clear the remaining rooms. With luck, we’ll find a way out of this yet.”

  While the Hoplites remained in the foyer, the robots moved from area to area, cutting those doors that were yet locked, and clearing the rooms beyond. None of them so far provided a way out. The robots did however discover another observation room, this one overlooking a glass tank. Inside were four strange, mollusk-like shapes: giant slugs. They seemed dead.

  “More genetic experimentation,” Lui said. “Makes you wonder just what the hell this Zoltan dude was planning.”

  Finally, several minutes later, Unit D reported in from the basement. “I just cut through a door that leads underground. Judging from the close proximity of the pedway system, this passage might potentially connect to it.”

  eighteen

  Rade switched to the unit’s point of view. The Centurion’s light cone illuminated stairs leading down a tight corridor into darkness. He checked his overhead map, and overlaid the subterranean pedway level with the basement level. According to the blueprints, the closest pedway tunnel passed within ten meters of that basement room.

  “The connecting section isn’t on our blueprints,” Lui said. “Must be a new addition.”

  “Or an existing connection that was never added to the map,” Tahoe said.

  “Send in an HS3,” Rade said.

  A moment later the scout flew by. Rade switched to its perspective and watched the drone proceed down the corridor. Its own headlamps provided a dim light cone, illuminating the close concrete walls.

  “Well, if it is a way out, it looks like we’ll be leaving our Hoplites,” Manic said. “They’ll never fit in that stairwell.”

  The passage leveled out, and in another five meters the drone reached a T intersection. The corridor was much broader and wider there.

  “According to the map, the HS3 just entered the main pedway system,” TJ said.

  “Look at how spacious it is,” Bender said. “That passage could easily hold our Hoplites. And yet we can’t bring them because the connecting corridor is too small. It’s like watching a strip tease in a no-touching club.”

  “Hoplites aren’t the only thing that could fit in the pedway system proper,” Fret said. “Don’t forget the monsters.”

  “Monsters,” Bender said. “Call them bugs, damn it.”

  The drone took the rightmost branch of the intersection and in seconds the video feed began to distort and pixelate badly.

  “All right, that’s far enough,” Rade said. “Bring the HS3 back to the intersection.”

  Rade traced a route on the pedway map to the closest exit—the shed two blocks to the south.

  “All right, people,” Rade said. “We have a way out. This is actually good, since I wanted to explore the pedway system next.”

  “Anyone else feel like we’re being herded?” Manic said.

  “I do,” Fret said. “I’ll follow you, boss, don’t get me wrong, but exploring the pedway system without Hoplites, it’s just, well, not the best idea. Not while those monsters are on the loose.”

  Bender threw up the arms of his mech. “Again with the monsters.”

  “What?” Fret said.

  “Spec-ops personnel don’t talk like that,” Bender mocked. “All chicken-shit like. What?”

  “I’m not spec-ops anymore,” Fret said. “So piss off.”

  “Once spec-ops, always spec-ops,” Bender said.

  “Fret, we’re going down,” Rade said. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

  “Didn’t TJ say the creatures would be dead after ninety minutes?” Fret insisted. “Something about starving from oxygen?”

  “That’s a good point,” Rade said. “All right, I’m willing to wait another thirty minutes, as sixty have already passed since we breached the dome with the Argonaut’s Hellfires.”

  The requisite thirty minutes passed; Rade waited another twenty for good measure, and then he and the Hoplites made their way down to the basement. At the fin
al stairwell, the ex-MOTHs reluctantly dismounted their Hoplites. They emptied the few grenades they had left from the launchers on the mechs and attached them to their jumpsuit harnesses.

  “Set the AIs to ‘guard’ mode,” Rade said. He tapped in the AI of Bender’s mech: “Juggernaut, go upstairs and watch the main entrance. If the blast shield ever opens, notify the other Hoplites, and if the way proves clear outside, attempt to rendezvous with us at the hangar where we stowed our Dragonfly.”

  “Affirmative,” Juggernaut returned. The mech departed.

  Manic gazed longingly at his own Hoplite. “It’s the end of an era.”

  “I feel so vulnerable out here,” Fret said. “So... small.”

  “Now you know how Harlequin and I have felt all this time,” Rade said.

  “Isn’t a good feeling,” Tahoe said.

  “No, it’s not,” Rade agreed.

  “I’ve felt fine, actually,” Harlequin said. “I am confident in myself and my abilities.”

  “Yeah, that’s nice, bitch,” Bender said. “I feel fine, too. I’m not afraid of some bugs. Got my bug spray right here.” He hefted his laser rifle. “You really think you’re hot tamales, don’t you?”

  “I was merely stating my feelings—”

  “Well don’t,” Bender said. “Because we don’t care about your AI-ass feelings.”

  “Wait boss, we’re just going to leave the Hoplites here?” Manic said.

  “We’ll come back for them at some point,” Rade said. “Once we can find a way to raise those blast shields.”

  “And what if we can’t?” Fret said. “Or our Hoplites are stolen?”

  “Then we expense the client,” Rade said.

  “And if the client is dead?” Fret pressed.

  “Then we’re screwed.” Rade pointed toward the darkness. “Weapon lights on. Infrared mode. Centurions and HS3s, lead the way.”

  THE SURVIVING THREE HS3s proceeded on point through the concrete corridors, followed by the five Centurions, and the eight ex-MOTHs. The team had switched their faceplates to night vision mode, which cast everything in shades of green. Infrared beams illuminated a floor tiled with some sort of ceramic, with a carpet running along the middle. Long cylinders in the ceiling that ran parallel to the corridor indicated the inactive HLED pedway lights.