The Beauty of Destruction

by Gavin G. Smith

  ‘Just another victim,’ said Grace, watching Luckwicke running back. ‘Why don’t we take both of them down? Mueller is almost in place, and Ezard’s ready. We can neurally audit du Bois.’ It was not the first time she had made the suggestion. Grace had become sloppier since he had split up her partnership with du Bois and made her hate him, but she had certainly become more fervent. She had a point, however. Having Mueller and Ezard take du Bois down and kill Luckwicke would be easier. Du Bois was the most difficult of his pawns, but after the Pennangalan and her sister, he was by far the oldest and most competent. He wondered if he was becoming subject to the same sentimentality that had cursed du Bois’s life.

  ‘For all we know he is still about our business, despite being told to stand down. Given the lengths he has gone to, it could be argued that he is showing real loyalty.’

  The Pennangalan came off the workbench she had been leaning against. The light from the screens and the other electronic instruments in the cramped CP reflected off the beaten silver mask that covered her face. His oldest servant, augmented with Naga-tech, one of the twin serpent pirate queens of the Khmer Empire, now little more than a slave. He sensed her impatience. This elaborate charade was a luxury they didn’t have the time for.

  ‘Didn’t you order her dead?’ Grace asked, pointing the barrel of her Noveske Rifleworks N6 CQB carbine at the image of Luckwicke. ‘Is that loyalty?’ the punk girl demanded. The side door to the truck-mounted CP opened and Karma found himself looking down the barrel of two carbines. He sighed and climbed in, closing the door behind him.

  ‘How much longer—’ he started, and then saw the images of Beth sprinting back from the air force base. ‘Well, at least the charade’s over,’ Karma spat. It was clear the bearded tech did not like him. Mr Brown was sure he had known why once, and could probably remember if he concentrated, but it wasn’t important. He glanced at the bed Alexia du Bois was lying on. She had been put to sleep by an S-tech derived nanotech sedative that had bypassed the protection of her internal systems. Alexia’s immortality, and her being kept out of their business, had been one of du Bois’s tedious conditions of service. Finally she was proving useful. ‘Lying to him about her was cruel,’ Karma said.

  Patron’s laugh was devoid of humour. ‘Now he will be pathetically grateful to see her. Remember, we are just here to talk. Ideally he re-joins the fold, the price of which is Luckwicke’s death, but to all intents and purposes we are the good guys.’ Patron reached over and placed a finger on Alexia’s forehead, delivering the signal to wake her by touch.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Grace snapped, and then opened the door, jumping out into the sunlight.

  ‘Du Bois!’ Beth shouted.

  He was standing just a little way beyond the ECV looking up a corridor of dirt between two rows of decommissioned B-52 bombers. He glanced behind him at the sound of her voice but then turned back to face something else.

  She reached his side. Further up the corridor of red dirt she could make out five figures standing in front of one of the old B-52s. Karma was on the right. Next to the otaku was a leather-clad punk girl with multiple piercings, her mohican flat on her head and tied back. She was carrying a carbine with an underslung grenade launcher.

  Next to the punk was a tall, slender, but somehow still powerful looking man. His skin was so black he was almost a void, though his features were not African, in fact they didn’t seem to fit any ethnicity she had ever seen before.

  Next to the black-skinned man was another woman. Tall, statuesque, strikingly beautiful, though there was something about her that made Beth think of the transvestites she had known working the doors in Bradford and Leeds. She wore black jeans and a fitted T-shirt with the name of a band on it that Beth had never heard of. She was smiling, beaming at du Bois. Beth was sure she could see a family resemblance.

  The woman on the far left was the strangest of them. She was shorter than the other three women, wiry. She had long black hair tied back in what looked like a braided hangman’s noose. She wore very practical outdoor clothes in subdued desert colours, and carried a Sig Sauer 716 Patrol Rifle also with an underslung grenade launcher. Her face was covered by a smooth silver mask with contours in the shape of facial features but no slits for eyes, nose or mouth. It looked perfectly form-fitting.

  ‘Okay …’ Beth said. ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘Hello, Malcolm!’ the black-skinned man shouted. His voice was so deep it made her feel funny. The air seemed to shimmer slightly when he spoke.

  ‘We could run,’ Beth suggested, glancing back at the ECV.

  ‘I like westerns,’ du Bois said. It wasn’t quite what she wanted to hear. He started walking forwards.

  ‘Are you still sane?’ the black-skinned man asked. Beth fell in beside du Bois.

  ‘Do you like westerns?’ du Bois asked.

  ‘My dad did, so I didn’t,’ Beth said.

  ‘Malcolm! Thank god!’ the tall, beautiful woman shouted, and started to move forwards. The black-skinned man stopped her by placing one of his huge hands on her shoulder.

  ‘Please let us speak with him first. If anything’s happened to him we can still help him,’ Beth overheard the black-skinned man say. She could listen to his voice all day, she thought.

  ‘Mr Brown, let my sister go,’ du Bois shouted at the tall figure. ‘But you’ve seen westerns, right?’ Beth had heard this last in her head. She had that feeling of walking in cobwebs again, her skin itched. She knew that communication via a blood-screen would only last so long before desert breezes carried the nanites away.

  ‘Yes, I’ve seen westerns,’ she answered with a thought.

  ‘You put them down with conventional weapons, overkill, then you finish them off with the nano-tipped bullets. They will have at least one, but more likely two, snipers in place. One will be close in. He won’t miss, you’re going to get shot. Our only chance is that they want us alive. If he hits us with nanite-tipped bullets we’ve had it.’

  ‘The one further away?’ she asked.

  ‘He will have a bigger gun but the bullets will have to travel longer distances. We need to keep moving because he will be able to deliver that overkill I mentioned.’

  Beth was aware of the Ripsaw unmanned light tanks behind them. They were being flanked by two of the machine-gun-mounted MAARS tracked drones as well.

  ‘This isn’t good, is it?’ They were still closing with the five figures who had started moving towards them.

  ‘Tactically?’ du Bois asked. ‘No.’

  Beth noticed he kept on glancing at the punk girl. Beth wondered if this was the Grace that Gideon and Azmodeus had asked about. She looked young, early twenties at the oldest, and was staring at du Bois with undisguised hatred.

  ‘Objective?’ she asked.

  ‘Get Alexia to the ECV and run away,’ du Bois thought back.

  ‘Chance?’

  ‘Effectively nil.’

  ‘Sorry to go all Lando on you, buddy,’ Karma said. Du Bois glanced at him but said nothing.

  ‘I am not sure what is going on here, Malcolm,’ the one that du Bois had called Mr Brown said. ‘Suddenly there is distrust?’

  ‘Well, strictly speaking I am in breach of orders,’ du Bois answered.

  ‘Yeah, didn’t you ask him to kill me?’ Beth said, suddenly angry. It had been such a casual thing, it seemed. He didn’t know her. She didn’t wish him harm, and yet he was prepared to snuff her out on a whim.

  ‘My apologies, Miss Luckwicke, the exigencies of our work are difficult to justify face-to-face. You are carrying a lot of dangerous technology inside you. If, on the other hand, you are prepared to join us?’

  The punk girl sneered. Punks had always given her trouble in the clubs. They were supposed to behave as if they didn’t give a shit. Alexia looked worried. She was glancing between Mr Brown and du Bois. Occasionally she would look at Grace. It was clear that du Bois’s sister didn’t like what she saw on the punk’s face.

  ‘So?
’ du Bois asked. ‘Everything is forgiven? I’m back in the fold? I have a seat on the life raft?’

  Mr Brown frowned. ‘Assuming we can get Miss Luckwicke’s sister’s genetic material back, then of course. I’m not sure where you would get the idea otherwise. Malcolm, is there something you want to tell me?’

  ‘Alexia, walk towards me,’ du Bois said.

  ‘She looks pretty angry,’ Beth said and nodded at Grace. She had the look of someone who was about to start a fight in a nightclub. She could hear the sound of the servos on the drones as they shifted their weapons slightly.

  Alexia stepped forwards. Mr Brown put his hand out to stop her.

  ‘Get your hands off me!’ she snapped, pushed his arm away and went to move forwards. The woman with the silver mask had a Sig P220 at Alexia’s head. Beth had barely caught the movement of the semi-automatic pistol being drawn.

  Beth had the LMG against her shoulder pointing straight at the silver mask. Du Bois had taken his right hand off the SA-58 carbine’s grip and was holding his hand up.

  ‘Woah!’ du Bois shouted.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Alexia demanded.

  ‘Nanite-tipped bullets, as I’m sure you can imagine,’ Mr Brown explained. He sounded sad.

  ‘Okay, there’s no need for this. We just take Alexia and go,’ du Bois said.

  Beth could hear the desperation in his voice. She was feeling quite desperate herself. Too many guns. She smiled. It was like one of the films her dad liked. A strange way for her to go out, cut down in a hail of gunfire. She decided she was definitely going to shoot Karma. She was pretty pissed off with him right now.

  ‘And my question is, what’s changed?’ Mr Brown said, his eyes narrowing. ‘Whom have you been talking to?’

  ‘Look, everything’s over, what possible difference could any of this make?’ du Bois asked.

  ‘Well, we appear to be in competition, Malcolm. You are on your way to Los Angeles, aren’t you?’

  ‘You let Alexia and Beth drive away, and I’ll tell you what you want to know,’ du Bois said.

  ‘Tell?’ Mr Brown looked confused. ‘That’s not really how we do things. The question is do you get shot a lot before I tear your mind open, or do you spare yourself and your compatriots a lot of pain? Put the guns down and submit to neural auditing.’

  ‘I’m not doing that,’ Beth said. She wasn’t sure if it was the tech or not but her mind didn’t feel so partitioned now. The knowledge of her death was liberating. She was grinning.

  ‘Wow, this is really tense,’ Karma said helpfully.

  ‘So you’re the new sidekick now?’ the punk girl asked.

  ‘Grace?’ Mr Brown said.

  Beth was pretty sure that this wasn’t part of his plan. She didn’t answer the punk. She certainly didn’t like to think of herself as a sidekick, though she had to admit that du Bois called most of the shots.

  ‘Is he your mentor? Father figure?’ the punk continued. ‘Has he tried to rape you yet?’

  Beth actually stepped away from du Bois, though she kept the Model 0 aimed at the woman with the silver mask.

  ‘What?’ Du Bois sounded appalled.

  Mr Brown looked down, a pained expression on his face. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger.

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’ Alexia demanded.

  ‘Grace, we discussed this. I removed the memory of what he did so he could still function as an operative.’

  ‘I didn’t—’ du Bois started.

  ‘How would you know?’ Mr Brown asked.

  One thing that Beth was sure about was that Grace was absolutely convinced. She was aware of the look of concern on Karma’s face as he looked between du Bois and Grace. It was also clear that the accusation had completely rocked du Bois.

  ‘That the kind of person you want to die for?’ Grace asked her. Just for a moment Beth glanced at du Bois next to her. He looked stricken. That didn’t mean he hadn’t done it.

  ‘My brother is no more capable of raping someone than he is of unaided flight,’ Alexia snapped. ‘You, on the other hand, you piece of shit,’ she said to Mr Brown, ‘are completely capable of putting a memory like that in someone’s head.’ Beth saw just a moment of doubt on Grace’s face but then it was gone. The memories would be too real, too raw.

  ‘Oh yes, rape is a stretch for a mass murderer,’ Mr Brown said.

  ‘All of you are mass murderers,’ Alexia spat. ‘He still believes in chivalry, for fuck’s sake! It’s probably the reason his new chippy’s still alive.’

  ‘Hey!’ Beth cried. ‘I am trying to help you.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m a little tense because I’ve got a gun to my head,’ Alexia muttered.

  Beth could hear one of the drones trundle to a halt somewhere behind her.

  ‘Did he tell you that he killed your father, I wonder?’ Mr Brown asked her. Something cold seeped through her. ‘On my orders, of course, but nonetheless.’

  Beth took another dangerous glance away from the reticle on the LMG’s holographic sight. The guilt was written all over his face. There was not a trace of doubt in Beth’s mind. This he had most certainly done.

  ‘I … I’m sorry,’ was all he could manage. His outstretched hand dropped down.

  Alexia was looking at them both, stricken.

  ‘You’ve no idea what kind of man you’re dealing with,’ Grace told Beth. ‘You need to put the gun down and walk away …’ She stopped and thought for a moment and then turned to look at Karma. ‘Wait a minute, in the end Lando …’ The shotgun blast caught the punk girl in the side, spinning her round. Karma worked the action on the Mossberg M590 tactical shotgun, firing rapidly again and again into Grace.

  Beth wasn’t aware of making a decision. She was operating on unearned, pre-programmed muscle memory. Necessity meant better the devil you know. Du Bois would have to wait. She was moving forwards firing.

  ‘Alexia!’ du Bois screamed. He used his left hand to move his carbine aside. Alexia was ducking down low. The woman with the silver mask lowered the Sig P220, trying to shoot Alexia in the head as she drew a twin Sig with her right hand. Beth’s three-round burst caught the silver-masked figure in the chest, staggering her. Her own augmented hearing picked out a gun shot from behind her. Karma was hit, he staggered back and was hit again. Something larger fired from further way, a hole appeared in the fuselage of the B-52 on her left, and there was an explosion of sand. Du Bois fast-drew his Accurised .45 from the holster on his hip and fired once. The bullet hit the masked women in her left wrist, knocking it back. The P220 fired, missing Alexia. Du Bois was re-holstering the .45. The nanite-tipped bullet was eating away at the masked woman’s wrist. Suddenly Alexia had a long knife that looked like a small katana. The blade flashed up and the masked woman’s left hand hit the desert sand still holding the P220.

  ‘Run!’ du Bois shouted at his sister as he brought his carbine up to his shoulder.

  Of course the reason that western style gunfights probably only ever happened in the movies was that modern weapons, in the hands of people who knew what they were doing, made such activity a zero sum game.

  Grace spun with the momentum of the shotgun blasts. Bringing the N6 up she fired a three-round burst at Karma, hitting him centre mass, his body armour, clothes and skin hardening as armour. Then one of the sniper’s rounds tore part of his face off.

  Alexia was sprinting towards du Bois and Beth. The silver-masked lady was rapidly firing her right hand Sig, round after round hitting Beth. They didn’t penetrate her hardening armour but each one still felt like getting hit by a hammer. Beth got shot twice in the back, rifle rounds, armour-piercing, it beat her armoured clothes and lodged in her hardening skin, too close to her spine for comfort.

  She spun around to find the sniper. It looked like part of the desert had stood up. The ghillie suit he was wearing had camouflaged him. His face was painted in reds like the desert earth. He was firing his M14 rapidly at one of th
e tracked MAARS drones trundling towards him firing its own machine gun. Beth triggered a short burst at the figure. He staggered, then turned and ran from the drone, diving into the open door of one of the B-52 skeletons. The drone fired its four grenade launchers in quick succession. Air-bursting high explosive grenades followed the sniper through the old bomber’s fuselage.

  A round burst through the B-52 nearest to her and passed so close it would have opened her skin had she not been augmented. She was getting shot a lot in the back again, the force of the impacts driving her down on one knee. She managed to turn back, bringing the LMG up. The crazy silver-faced woman, her left arm still being eaten by the nanites in the bullet du Bois had shot her with, was firing her Patrol Rifle one-handed. Alexia cried out and went sprawling face-first in the red dirt as a round caught her in the back. Du Bois was firing three-round burst after three-round burst between the masked lady and Grace.

  Grace was rocking with every impact but she emptied the rest of her magazine into and around Karma. Karma sat down, hard, covered in his own blood. Beth desperately wanted the masked lady to go away. In the distance she could hear more machine gun fire and the sound of the larger weapon. It seemed the drones were taking on the second sniper. Beth fired a long burst at the masked lady, the barrel of the LMG climbing with the recoil. She stopped firing, adjusted her aim, and repeated. The masked woman staggered back, but Beth kept on firing until she fell over. Throughout it all Mr Brown stood stock-still in the chaos.

  Alexia sprinted past them as Grace turned away from Karma and fired the underslung grenade launcher, dropping the 40mm fragmentation grenade between Beth and du Bois. Beth and du Bois were both turning away from the grenade as it detonated. Beth was aware of tumbling through the air. The fuselage of one of the B-52s suddenly filled her vision and then everything went black.