“Leave it to Natty. Probably though it would assist his scientists with their intuitive insights about what technologies to invent next, or simply boost their creative genius to new levels.”
“And then he forgot about the idea,” Laney said, with a sigh. “Also typical Natty.”
“Can we get back to my war now?” Leon asked. “Everyone wants to keep taking these mini-vacations in the middle of it.”
“Not yet. That skeleton.” She pointed at it. “That’s one of the shamans who prayed on this mountain once, would be my guess. Perhaps he was buried here. When they dug him up, they found he could do this, levitate.”
“How?”
“Prolonged exposure to the energies of the hot spot.”
“Interesting, but…”
“It’s a clue of some kind. A pointer perhaps. It connects with Truman’s master plan for the future somehow, or it wouldn’t be here. Truman was not spiritual or reverential. He was practical. Maybe the shaman posed some riddle for him he’d yet to solve.”
“A delicious idea. I’ll leave you two brainiacs to ponder the matter further when Natty gets back. Now we have the small matter of surviving long enough to make sense of our own existence, far less the future.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Laney broke the trance and gestured for her entourage to accompany her down the hall.
Leon had no idea what mission or quest she was on. Which was probably for the best. He headed another direction.
SIXTY-ONE
THE INNER PERIMETER OUTSIDE THE FORESCO COMPOUND
Hoser shouted from the moving jeep, “Three inch bore! Anyone got need of a three inch diameter hose?!”
“Yeah, pal. I could stand to suck someone’s dick right now in lieu of a pacifier. Come into the trees, over here.”
“No, I mean three inch hose,” Hoser said, braking for the soldier, and holding up the rubber hose, one of many different gauge hoses hanging from him.
“Sorry, pal. Guess we got our wires crossed. You got anything in there to calm me down?”
“Ah, not that kind of field medic. I just doctor the vehicles.”
“All right, I’ll try and find me a field medic who actually tends to humans,” he said, waving Hoser on.
Hoser advanced the jeep hawking his wares like the peanut guy at the baseball stadium. “Three inch hose! Get your three inch hose!” The peanut guy always made him feel good. Maybe he was enacting a feel-good ritual of his own to get around the stress of stampeding dinosaurs and hundred foot Goliath-Bots. The best place to be right now was high up in the trees, not somewhere on the ground.
Another of the engineers turned soldiers grabbed him out of the driver’s seat while the jeep was still moving and dragged him into the open, a little too far away from the tree line for Hoser’s liking. “Can you do something for him, doc?” the guy said, as he forced Hoser to a stop.
Hoser glanced down at the soldier who was more outside his body than in by this point. “One of those lizards stepped on him. Don’t even think he knew he was there.”
Hoser swallowed hard. “And me thinking with any luck I wouldn’t have to face my worst fears.” He tried to break away. The ALPHA UNIT cadet forced him back and made him look.
“You got hoses. Stick an IV in his arm. Give him some morphine at the very least.”
“I’m a doctor of vehicles, not people. How am I not being clear? I thought I was being clear,” Hoser said, holding up any number of hoses dangling from his body.
“Sorry. I guess I’ll have to find some other way to deal with this. There are some vehicles that direction,” he said pointing, “that are definitely out of commission unless you can bring them back to life.”
“That’s great news!” Toning down his excitement, Hoser said, “Ah, sorry about your friend.”
“The guy’s a neuroscientist. I can’t let him die like this. He practically stole his way onto Leon’s team just so he could study these sentient serpents. Just on rumor alone, mind you. He didn’t fully believe they existed. No one did at the time.”
“I have a nanomist I keep for the oil and gas tanks in case the engine needs unceasing, or the gas tank needs a hole plugged.”
“I’ll take even false hope at this point, pal.”
Hoser reached into one of his pockets, pulled out the aerosol can, shook it, and sprayed the guy on the ground. The wounded soldier healed rapidly, but with rubber and steel parts where human flesh and bone and blood vessels were before.
The guy reached out an arm and his friend pulled him up. “There he is! Back from the dead!” His friend hugged him and patted him on the back.
“You got a quart of oil on you?” Back From the Dead said.
“Yeah, sure.” Hoser handed him one of the bottles dangling from his tool belt. Back From The Dead drank it down. Emptying the bottle before he came up for air. And belched.
“You’re the best field medic ever, pal. I owe you one,” Back From the Dead said, handing him back the empty bottle.
Hoser grimaced. “Sure, anytime. I really need to go find me a damaged vehicle now.”
“Shit, a blind man could find one of those out here,” Back From the Dead said. “Come on, friend,” he said to his pal. “We’re hunting a different kind of game.”
The engineer cum soldier and the neuroscientist cum soldier headed back into the bush. Hoser headed back to his vehicle.
Once he was reunited with his jeep, which was grinding its gears against a tree, Hoser headed to where True Friend said he was likely to find some dead or at least dying vehicles.
“Ooh wee!” Hoser said, eying the field before him a short while later. “They weren’t kidding.” The wounded vehicles, trained to regroup into an elephant’s graveyard of sorts if they knew they were out of commission, made for a pretty sorrowful sight all gathered up like this.
Hoser jumped out of the jeep, taking his portable toolkit with him, like a doctor’s bag, after slinging another tool belt around his shoulder. A couple of the vehicles had shifted into bipedal robot mode so they could scrounge from the other vehicles that were too far gone to be rescued, doctoring themselves on the fly. One had even managed to finish doing surgery on himself and was headed back into action before Hoser could get to the closest salvageable vehicle.
“What’s the problem?” Hoser said.
The ATV AI explained, “Broken axel. Busted fuel lines. Weapons systems down. I’m too far gone, pal. Save your precious resources for someone who can still benefit from them.”
“You want a quick lobotomy? Seems the least I can do.”
“Nah, I’m more the slow fade to black type.”
“Good luck, then,” Hoser said, moving on to the next vehicle. With any luck he could get enough vehicles up and running again to justify returning for Lost Cause. An AI that gutsy seemed worth saving.
“What’s ailing you?” Hoser said, coming up on the next ATV.
Another of the bipedal robots, finished his self-surgery, morphed back into ATV mode and wheeled itself back into action. Hoser wasn’t sure if he was looking for his crew, or if he even needed one.
His patient’s list of complaints forced his attention back on the one before him. “Can’t hit anything I’m aiming at,” the ATV said. “More of a menace to our guys than a help. So took myself out of action.”
“Must be your guidance system. I’ll take a look,” Hoser said. “You wouldn’t happen to need a three inch diameter hose, would you? Can’t seem to give the things away.”
“Nah, pal. I’d watch it what a line like that, though. Likely to get a blow job for your efforts.”
Hoser sighed. “The things war does to people. It just isn’t pretty.”
“Tell me about it.”
Hoser had been tinkering away on Damaged Nav the entire time they were prattling. “There, I think that did it.”
Damaged Nav tested his refurbished targeting mechanism. Sighting a tree with its infrared beam and firing. He brought the tree down on one o
f the ATVs in the distance. “Hey, watch it!” that ATV squawked.
“Good to go, doc. You’re the best.” Damaged Nav wasted no time heading back into action.
Hoser sighed. “I wonder if they make any of these AIs cowardly, or maybe a touch neurotic, just for variety.”
“You want the serial killer in the group, pal. I’m over here. Now hop to, I’ve got a full arsenal of giant robo-killing gear and no way to deliver my payload. Tell me I’m not a priority.”
Hoser sighed for a second time. There was no denying the AI had a point. He hiked over to Locked and Loaded. “Okay, so what is wrong with you?”
“The humans inside me said something about radiation poisoning before they beat a path for Georgia. Personally, I feel fine.”
“Oh shit!” Hoser said, jumping back. “I’ll be right back.” He ran to his jeep, donned a radiation suit, came back with a Geiger counter and some other gear. Tested the meter inside the ATV. “They weren’t kidding. I think one of those big lizards might have breathed on you when you had the hatch open.”
“You gotta be shitting me. You saying lizard breath put me out of commission? I’ll never live this down. Hey, pal, can we just agree to keep this between us?”
“Mum’s the word,” Hoser said spraying the inside of the vehicle. “That should neutralize it,” he said. “The nanite coating should make you impervious from here on out to that line of attack.”
“You’re aces, pal. Anyone you know need killing, just give me a call.” The ATV, like the others before him, wasted no time jumping back into action. Wheeling himself away and disappearing into the forest.
Judging by the uptick in explosions in the distance, to say nothing of the plumes of fire rising from unidentified sources far too obscured by the trees, Hoser figured the repaired ATVs were already making their presence felt. It was definitely time for a better acronym for them. Maybe TP-AI-ATVs. TP for “Two Phase,” indicating their bipedal mode and their all-wheel-drive mode. A.I. to clue people they were riddled with more intelligence than most humans. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue though.
No time for a mental break, Hoser!
“Any more high priority cases?” Hoser shouted.
There was a chorus of “Over here!” coming from every direction.
Hoser sighed. “It’s all the self-importance that gets to me. Whatever happened to the age-old tradition of selfless service?”
SIXTY-TWO
THE OUTER PERIMETER OUTSIDE THE FORESCO COMPOUND
Panno was attending to their little “mole” problem. He raced his motorbike up along the tail, his tires having just enough room to maneuver between the spikes, and ultimately up the spinal ridge of one of his thirty-foot Nomads. Launched himself off the top of the creature’s head, Evil Knievel-like. During his hang-time he took advantage of his big picture view to spy as many of the “moles” burrowing into the ground as he could. Let three of them have it with the rocket propelled grenades before they could bury themselves in the earth all the way. The explosions were nothing short of spectacular. Explained less by his own detonating RPGs and more by the fact that the “moles” were rocket launching platforms themselves. Only, with the ability to shield their arsenal from attack. The only time they were vulnerable at all to the RPGs was with their ass-end in the air as they were nearly totally submerged back in the ground. They’d been playing their guerilla tactics of hit and run and bury themselves alive before they could receive retribution rather effectively until Panno came up with his cure-all.
Panno caught the ride back down to Planet Earth along the spinal ridge of yet another juvenile nomad, this one forty-foot tall, that coordinated its efforts with the thirty-footer so Panno’s bike wouldn’t take such a beating falling back to a height of thirty feet from his roughly eighty feet or so in the air.
He’d done about as much as he could with these juvenile nomads. So he called in for the hundred footers. Meanwhile, he restocked the handheld RPG launchers with fresh shells.
Soaring off the top of a hundred foot Nomad was a bit more harrowing for any number of reasons, not the least of which was failing to stick the landing. Higher up in the air he no longer had the protection of the uppermost layer of the forest canopy. He would be exposed to Leon’s droid craft. The miniature jet fighters dropped out of the sky like falcons, dive-bombing them only to escape to high above the forest canopy where they couldn’t be spotted or shot at from the ground until they were in range again. Self-piloted, their reflexes were better than his or any of his men. The droids varied from kite-size to adult manta ray-size with shapes to match. They were deadly enough all by themselves.
But to make matters worse, the Umbrage that Leon’s men had managed to free had gotten their hands on one. And now they were replicating the sentient serpent versions. Simply by psychically projecting what they wanted at the adult Nomad females, who would then give birth to the new designs. These were more like real manta rays. Living creatures but with ramjet cores. The hybrids’ domain not the ocean but the forest canopy. And they didn’t need weapons like the droid rays. They just gained enough altitude, soaring into the upper atmosphere if need be—Panno wouldn’t be surprised if they could leave the earth’s atmosphere altogether to get the altitude they needed. They then dive-bombed their targets, wedging themselves in like bullets fired from a cannon—a space cannon. They could take out even one of the adult nomads in one strike.
Panno observed the Umbrage pulling the serpent rays out of the slashed-open belly of one of the fallen hundred foot Nomads—creatures that refused to die until they passed on progeny even better equipped to survive their world. Once the gash in the belly was big enough, the serpent rays flew out on their own accord.
Without skipping a beat, the Umbrage turned their focus to pulling the circular scales off of the fallen hundred foot Nomad. Recycling the scales for use as their boomerangs, they carved intricate patterns in the voids they made in the solid scales to make them their own, as unique as the warriors that flung them. Panno had thought the boomerangs had been dipped in poisons like the darts of the Ubuku, but it was clear now that the poison was endemic to the Nomad’s scales.
The defensive perimeter the Umbrage placed about themselves as they scavenged one of their own fallen was too great for Panno to penetrate. And he was too enraged to play passive observer any longer.
With little choice but to redress this offense against his people—namely the damage done by the latest addition to the opposition forces of the serpent rays—Panno took to the makeshift ramp of a hundred footer. Gaining speed and altitude like a jet on an aircraft carrier with only so much runway to work his magic.
Once in the canopy he took aim with his scoped .50 caliber and started knocking the droid rays out of the sky with his armor-piercing shells. He didn’t have to aim particularly well, just get close enough with the self-guided miniature missiles passing themselves off as .50 caliber solid shots for the junior rockets to reach their targets before they got outmaneuvered.
It was a numbers game and the numbers weren’t on Panno’s side. He’d need Jacko to do anything more definitive about the serpent rays, as they were too smart and their reflexes too good even for his guided missiles. Half of his shots never hit their mark. The more nimble serpent rays would just lead the miniature missiles back at one of his own people and fly out of the way in time. He’d seen it happen more than once.
Panno prepared for the roller coaster dive down to the hundred foot Nomad coordinating his efforts with the other Platform Nomad. And took the ride to the bottom.
Once on the forest floor again he saw what progress Jacko was making. The old man must have found the serpent ray’s frequency from inside his guided meditations. And had altered his brainwaves to match. From there he could entrance them even from a distance, get them to entrain with his brainwaves, unaware that their brainwave patterns had been hacked. At that point, they were just part of Jacko’s ever-expanding zombie army.
He sent the serpe
nt rays after the droid rays. The serpent rays were quickly winning that exchange. Panno could see that much, even though he was blinded to the sky above, because the droid rays were crashing through the canopy to the ground. Clearly not aimed at any target, their self-guidance systems destroyed. They were more like duds in a fourth of July fireworks celebration that produced none of the light and sound hoped for. Panno nodded, pleased, and laughed.
The serpent rays were taking out the “moles” now, relieving Panno of sky duty. They were taking out the enemy’s ATVs whatever their purpose wherever they found them. And they were taking out the robo-suits, the giant human-piloted one-hundred foot robots. As before, it took only one serpent ray per customer flying at those velocities, with them descending from the upper atmosphere. They would fly clean through their targets, leaving only a burn hole flaming at the edges.
Panno smiled seeing the giant robots and the giant Nomads in the enemy’s hands falling. With that one captured asset alone, this war would soon be over.
Not a moment too soon, from what Panno could tell. He walked the ground, noticing the damage the serpent rays had done to his own people. Many of whom had been sliced in half without the serpent rays even slowing. He only had to see a body lying there to get the flashback in his head in living color of the all-too clean kills the serpent rays were capable of. Taking out any number of his trance warriors in one pass if they were foolish enough to get caught marching in a straight line. He’d look up at shafts of light filtering through the trees only to find that the filtering device was the hollowed out cavity of one of the Nomads overhead in the shape of a serpent ray, where it had flown clear through its heart to leave it leaning against a stand of trees, supporting its weight like the coiled springs of a mattress.
Mind of a Child_ Sentient Serpents Page 52
