Multiverse 1

by Chris Hechtl

  The tentacle rear guard was scanning the wood line off to his left, looking for a target. A four-winged dactyl died in an explosion of gore when it fled a tree it had been in. The robot turned and with metallic groans stomped on, following its fellows. Getting an idea Trapper scanned the tree line for the right target.

  The tree was a rock oak, an old native tree over twenty meters tall. With this rain its outer bark would soften near the base to suck in water and nutrients, making it a perfect target. Pulling the scope down he dropped it in his breast pocket as he spun in place and stood, shouldering the rifle once more.

  Thumbing a grenade, he targeted the base of the tree and waited. The robot was ten meters away…five…squeezing the trigger he dropped as the robot spun, racking his area with plasma fire. He heard the muffled explosion and crunching as he dove into the cave.

  Rock sparked as beam weapons struck; he gasped in silent pain as glittering shards tore into his right calf. Biting down on his lip so hard it bled, he crab crawled through the passage on his forearms and knees, pushing his rifle ahead on top of his arms. His training kept him going; he didn't have an ounce of quit in him.

  The muffled crash of the oak made him pause. He pulled himself along to the escape hatch then paused to do a slow scan of it. Seeing it was safe he turned to his calf. Blood dripped from the deep gashes and he grimaced. Pulling out his med pack, he put it over the area and gasped as it injected him with local pain killers and then cleaned and sealed the wound. The med kit beeped softly, and he pulled it off, briefly inspecting the wounds. They were covered in biogel, a foam-like substance that would act as a glue to seal them and keep them clean.

  He pulled himself back to the hole and scanned once again for trouble. Pulling himself out, he crawled along the boulders to a spot two hundred meters from his exit hole before taking a look at the trail.

  The tree had toppled onto the robot, crushing its body to the ground. Fluid leaked from around it and he smiled. The smile congealed into a grimace as the tentacles began to whip.

  One of the other robots came out of the tree line and paused over its fallen comrade. It prodded the trunk with grippers, and then slammed it. The tree twitched and groaned. The robot reared back on its two rear legs and its two forward legs exposed their weapons which began to glow. Beams sprung out, sawing into the tree, sparking fires in the wood that quickly went out. Slowly the robot cut down to its fallen comrade.

  When it finished it slammed its grippers into the cut piece, tearing it off the fallen robot. The tentacle robot shakily got to its feet; the body was dented with a long dent almost diagonal to its body. The main energy gun emitters looked torn and useless. Sparks could be seen coming from them and one shoulder. With a shake it looked to run a self-diagnosis, and then began pulling its legs to get out of the rubble.

  One of the limbs was trapped, and a mighty yank tore the already overstressed limb at a breaking point, ripping it in half. The robot paused, assessed the damage, and then gingerly pulled its final trapped limb out with the help of its fellow. Stumbling behind it's brethren, it followed in their wake, still a threat.

  D=[]##======

  The attack had been almost unexpected. Threat protocols had dropped their priority when no attack had been perpetrated on the main body. O871C was severely damaged, with overall effectiveness down to 40 percent. The hostile target was out of range so the mission priority protocols reasserted themselves. The workers must reach the site of high minerals. The headquarters must be re-established.

  The Hive must be re-established.

  D=[]##======

  One robot dead, another wounded. He didn’t give himself the luxury of thinking he was evening the odds. They were injuring him as much as he was them, and his weapons were getting few. He had nine armor piercing rounds and one grenade left. Sighing he turned and hobbled down the trail to his cache and reloads.

  An hour later he reached it, and cocking his head he listened for trouble before cautiously approaching it. The cache was buried under a shallow overhang of rock. He had made camp there several times in the past few years; an experienced eye could tell from the blackened patch of rock near the cell. He had even stashed a few odds and ends there.

  He dropped down into the hollow and then crouched. Using a stick he prodded the cache, making sure he had no unwanted guests. A Near rat scrambled out, making him snarl softly. He pulled out the bags and went through them.

  The rations were gone, torn up and eaten. The bags were littered with waste but the ammo looked intact. He swapped out his unneeded normal ammo for more clips of the armor piercing type. A second gilly net made him smile. He had felt naked without it.

  A full canteen made him sigh as he took the last swigs from the one he carried and then dropped it into the hole. The new canteen was clipped to his pack. Grenades were in the pack, both the concussion type and the armor piercing rocket type. He swapped out the battery packs for his rifle and electronics, and then turned to the radio. Unfortunately, he hadn’t packed another in this cache, so he started to drop it. Getting a glimmer of an idea he paused and then shrugged and tossed it in the pack. He changed his clothes quickly, bandaging cuts as he worked.

  He dropped his handgun into the cache and the rounds for it. This needed to be a long-range fight, if they ever got too close for him to use that, he was dead; the tentacle robots were just too armored for the gun to be at use at all. Almost as an afterthought, he pulled out a laser rangefinder, thermal blanket, second med kit, and a satchel of explosives and tossed them into his pack.

  Pulling the gilly netting back on, he shouldered the pack and then took stock. There might be one or two more ambush points on the trail. They were making about five clicks an hour in this weather and terrain, not bad, but not all that great. Their wounded and unfamiliarity with the area, not to mention defensive nature, were no doubt slowing them down. He mentally cataloged their route and then thought of a possible point. It would be tight. The open area they would be getting to in less than an hour would be better, but he didn’t have the speed to get there and set up in time. Grimacing, he nodded and pulled himself up and out of the hole.

  He would need to experiment with the radio. The detonators were radio controlled, and with the thrice damn antenna broken, he wouldn’t have much range to use if he wanted to set them off. He got the idea to program the radio to go off at a certain time but quickly discarded it; there was too much left to chance in his timing. Simplicity was best. KISS, he thought.

  Jogging down the trail, he passed a granite boulder and then turned down the trail. His was a path he had traveled several times, each year taking the upward slope to get to the lake. He had even toyed with the idea of building a cabin near the edge of the lake, taking the time to drop trees close to his chosen spot for later use. The terrain was pockmarked by moss rimmed holes, the remains of lava tunnels from an ancient volcano, long since capped.

  He smelled blood ahead and slowed up. A kill was near, and the slow munch of feeding carnivores made him pause. They were close, possibly off to his right in the glade of moss strewn boulders. He slowly crept forward until he got a good spot. A trio of Karnack Rex, what looked like an adult pair and a young juvenile, were munching on a Proto Bison. By the look of the carcass, they had been feasting for some time, so were most likely sluggish and full.

  The juvenile was a problem, however; the Rex was a fierce protector of its young. Sighing, he slowly crept past them and edged beyond them and upwind. He grimaced when they bellowed, scenting him. He kept moving, pausing behind a bush when he heard crashing. The juvenile no doubt, charging toward him. A sharp bark and clack halted the charge and he grinned.

  Momma Rex calling the wayward baby predator back. A snuffle and he heard and felt the crackle and crunch of the disappointed juvenile turn and leave. “Sorry junior, no time to stop and play today.” He smiled tightly at the thought and moved on.

  D=[]##======

  The pause at the next ambush point had been inevita
ble if though suboptimal. Threat protocols had merged with the priority mission protocol, forming a double alert that could not be avoided. The hellcats had been sent ahead to search the terrain for possible danger. Finding none that had returned allowing the paused mission to continue.

  D=[]##======

  At the next rise he paused and checked his bearings. They were about ten clicks from the lake, and if he was right, they would come up over the opposite rise in a few hours or less. Turning he jogged down the path to the lake. Passing through the narrow gorge, he stepped into the light of the valley floor and gorgeous view of the night sky and shimmering lake below. He turned to study the gorge, but quickly disregarded the idea of mining them. The explosives could probably blow some of the stuff down onto them, but getting up there would be trouble, and the results wouldn’t be enough for his purpose.

  He stepped over to a rock and pulled out a detonator and the radio. Setting the detonator on a rock he pulled the arming pin and then jogged about two hundred meters away. The radio software was being finicky; without the antenna it refused to bypass the diagnostics and work. With a sharp slap he overrode the software and clicked on the detonator activation signal.

  There was no puff from the rock, so he stepped forward, keeping his thumb on the trigger. At twenty meters the rock puffed, the detonator self-destructing. Nodding silently, he looked to the rocks above the mine. The lake was about a kilometer across and tapered into a rocky gorge before tumbling down a series of waterfalls and under the overhanging rocks of the mine. If he worked quickly he could do it. He pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long. He preferred a military crew cut, but he hadn’t been in town for nearly a month. Brushing away the dandruff as he walked, he carefully studied his terrain.

  It wasn’t like he had never done this before. The area was familiar territory, and he had spent many a season here. The robots would come down the gorge and most likely pick up the vast mineral deposits in the caverns and head in that direction. The cavern had two openings that he was sure of—one a skylight area, another the waterfalls. If he could rig something at the edge of the hole, he could lure them in and then drop the roof on their heads.

  Feeling the plan gel he turned and made his way to his base camp. Grabbing a bundle of rope and some rigging he tossed it over his shoulder and then made his way to the cavern. He didn’t have a light, so he turned on the scope and switched to night vision.

  Checking the area, then the hole, he shouldered the rifle behind him, then picked up the hammer and drove pitons into the rock face. He then anchored the line to them. Dropping the line into the hole, he grimaced and then dropped down, backing into the hole to repel down the line.

  About a half a meter down he stopped, then wrestled with his pack to pull out a charge and detonator. Swinging slowly he pulled out the detonator pin then mashed the detonator and pin into the charge. Kicking his leg a little, he spun slowly and reached up to mash the plastic putty charge into a crevice in the rock. He took out a piton and hammer and hammered the piton into a nearby crevice. Hooking the line to it, he pulled himself along, hanging from the ceiling and laying charges every three or four meters. When he was out of charges, he pulled out a pair of concussion grenades and taped them to a detonator, then wedged them into the rock for good measure.

  Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground, and then took a long swig from his canteen. That was a lot of work; his shoulders and arms were on fire. He pulled out a bar and tossed it down, then dropped the wrapper into his pack and moved on. The pack felt like lead, tiring him even more. He felt into his right hip pocket and pulled out a stim, then grimaced as he slapped it onto his neck. He estimated it would be about an hour before the mechs got to the cavern. Debating what to do, he decided to chance it and climb out of the cave to see.

  Outside the slow rain had stopped as the clouds passed. A beautiful night panorama greeted him as he pulled up the last steps. It was still cloudy, he couldn't see the night stars, but it would do, he thought. One of the things he loved about living in the outback was that nightly view. You didn't get that gorgeous view with the light pollution around the towns and cities.

  He set his pack down then stiffly walked up the path to the hole, then pulled on the line. He had been careful to allow himself to pull it out of the pitons when he needed, so it fed through them and came out to the top. When the line was clear, he dropped back down into the darkness below.

  Picking up his pack, he walked to the gorge and cautiously glanced out. The hill was clear, no sign of the robots yet. He put on the night vision scope and flicked through IR to night vision, still not seeing anything. He picked out the laser range finder from his pack and attached it to his scope. It plugged into his systems, and he checked through the scope. The diagnostics were clear, and it was online. He stepped into a group of boulders under a tree growing out of the side of the gorge and settled down.

  He pulled off the gilly net and put on the blanket, then buckled the net back on. He started to settle down then thought better of it and reached up, shaking the tree to rain leaves down onto him. He grabbed handfuls of dirt and dust and tossed them onto his back as well. He pushed his feet into the boulder behind him, hoping to roll it out of his position, but it was too big or too deep. Sighing he turned to view the field.

  D=[]##======

  The point hellcat alerted the others to the slope. It was a possible ambush point, the last before they entered the mineral deposit. The location was suboptimal for the hostiles targeting; however, large rocks were strewn on the slope, offering cover.

  Threat protocols attempted to predict the attacker’s position, giving the hostile organic a 50 percent possibility of being on their left flank, a 20 percent chance of him being on the right, and 10 percent chance he was in the gorge below. The rest of the possible positions were suboptimal percentages and were dropped. Priority was established on the possible flank attack, so the Octobots paused with the workers then sent the hellcats ahead to spring the possible trap.

  D=[]##======

  It wasn’t long before the first signs of the cats made themselves known. The seemed to ooze over the hill, keeping to the tree line as best they could. He smiled wryly; there was some cover in the glade, mostly rocks and small clumps of brush and grass, but not much. He plotted out his moves, mentally guessing their paths and the paths they would take to him once he fired.

  When the first tentacle robot started to crest the hill, he took a breath and then fired on his first target. The round went downrange and hit his target in the side, exploding within the power pack he had carefully aimed for, making it drop.

  The first one was always free he thought as he shifted to the next target and flicked on the rangefinder. The center point charged, bounding over a boulder and toward him. He snarled quietly and snapped off a shot as it came to a boulder, but instead of bounding over the rock it dodged to one side around it. He panned down to the next boulder as it charged.

  He grimaced and shot, clipping the boulder and spraying shards of exploding rock into the face of the robot, momentarily blinding it. It dropped behind the boulder for cover so he turned to the third cat. It was almost to him, less than one hundred meters away. It was playing it smart, dodging in and around the boulders instead of leaping over them.

  He sent a shot to it, but it dodged to the left, then leapt on a boulder and leapt from one to another, their slimy algae covering making him off balance. He grimaced when it his rangefinder got down to the twenty-meter mark and then managed to catch the cat in midleap, dropping it to the ground to writhe in machine death and crumpling parts.

  The center machine was out of sight, and the tentacle robots began to fire near his position so he scooted back and then rolled. Suddenly the cat was there, onto the boulder in front and above his head. Partially blinded it swung at him; he raised the rifle up with both arms, taking the blow on the rifle. He grimaced as the rifle snapped, and then snapped off a grenade with the rocket
launcher at point blank range.

  He felt his arm spasm in agony as the recoil snapped his hairline fracture, and the heat and burning skin as the grenade exploded into the chest of the creature, bowling it over backward behind the rock. He was hurt; he knew it and grimaced.

  D=[]##======

  The hellcats were destroyed; however, they had done the job. Hellcat H6579J had flashed a report of damage of the hostile organic and destruction of its long-range weapon just as it was destroyed. The Octobots moved in.

  D=[]##======

  Beams played out over his position; suddenly the rocks he had been hiding behind began to shatter from arriving lightning and thunder. Rolling down the gorge, he got out of range and pulled himself to his feet. His rifle was shot so he unsnapped the stock and grenade launcher. All the cats were down, so only the tentacle robots and workers remained.

  The gorge floor was turning into a mess of molten rock and fire, too hot to travel on. He hobbled to the hole, snapping the grenade launcher to the stock of the rifle while shedding the pack and pulling out the radio, med pack and extra grenades. He made it just as the first robot sounds came through the gorge. He spun and fired at the ground, but they were up clinging to the cliff face. One paused and aimed, and he dived to the ground as a brilliant beam gouged out a rock trench where he had been. He fired from the hip, striking the robot as it prepared to fire again, knocking it to the molten ground below.

  Not bothering to check his enemy he scrambled to the line and clipped his web harness to it. He grimaced at the shards of pain in his arm and pulled out the med kit and slapped it on the arm. He reloaded the grenades, just as the monstrosity writhing in the gorge pulled itself out.