Absorption: Phase 03 (The Eighteenth Shadow)

by Grafton, Jon Lee

  The sheriff’s enormous hand gripped his machine gun as though to choke it, “No word on borgs, fly-girl?! Who deployed you out of Whiteman?”

  Captain Johnson’s voice was terse, “Sir, you are in violation of Federal Coms Act 91.5, unauthorized use of military streams, I recommend that…”

  “Who is your CO?” demanded the sheriff again. “I’ll ask one more time, fly-girl.”

  The pilot repeated, “Sir, you are in violation of…”

  “Okay,” interrupted Proudstar. “No wonk? Blow me. This is my county. Everquist, cut this bitch outta our ears.”

  “Yes sir,” said Everquist.

  Captain Johnson objected, “You are not authori…!” before her com was locked out.

  “Someone’s gonna answer for that,” said Colonel Apollo.

  “I’m a civilian, Marc. A retired civilian in fourteen days.”

  “Sir,” said Everquist, “That airship is prepping to dock on the driveway in front of the barn’s garage door.”

  Proudstar dialed his monocle HUD, magnifying, “Thoughts, colonel?”

  “If someone gets out of that bird, drop them.”

  “We don’t know anything about that aircraft, Marc.”

  “We know that it’s coming down on a hostile LZ, looks like for evac.”

  “Fair enough. Everquist, a C02 scrubber really gonna fall out of the sky?”

  Danny was typing furiously, “Thaats… yes sir, Jeezus they’re big, mostly fabric and gas, but it’s huge. You have about, well, 6 minutes and 59 seconds until this thing breaks the clouds. Get west if you can, not too far. But it is going to drop right on top of you. Alternatively, there’s an irrigation tunnel beneath the hovroad. GPS shows it approximately nineteen meters east of your boots.”

  “Okay, we got time,” said the sheriff. “Shit! That big bot’s moving again.”

  Danny switched cameras on the drone and zoomed in on THOR. The cyborg had turned the CRAB units into heaps of rubble and slag. A few RIOT Dobermans still yipped and scrabbled at his legs. THOR snapped the two closest up in his jaws and bit them in half. He gave another Doberman a glancing kick with his rear leg that sent its smashed chassis flying through the air. Then THOR raised his head, turned, and galloped back towards the barn and Mr. Angevine.

  “Quite the anti-cyborg company you brought, Marc,” said the sheriff, hiding a smile beneath his mustache.

  The colonel grumbled, “Not the time, Dale.”

  Angevine had not left the edge of the circle driveway. Danny watched the man turn, obviously not surprised to see the airship landing behind him. The craft extended its docking mounts like an obese insect alighting. Angevine covered his ears to muffle the sound of the levjets, then turned back to the hovroad to watch THOR’S approach. The big cyborg skidded to a halt, trotted up to the cowboy and lowered his massive head to chest level.

  “Cowboy’s the driver,” said the colonel. “I read zero tech on that civvy. Not even a comdot. I’m bringing my RIOT’s closer for scans.”

  “I don’t think, colonel, I mean, sir, that you’re gonna find anything,” said Danny.

  “Didn’t ask your opinion, boy,” replied the colonel.

  Danny made a face at his cubicle back in Lawrence and mouthed the words, Well maybe that’s why you’ve only got eight of your stupid little robots left!

  “Now where are they going?” asked Proudstar.

  Angevine ducked over to the small airship as it completed docking. THOR trotted directly behind, blocking him. Danny moved his drone closer and magnified. The ship’s pilot wore a rough spun hood and a sand colored hemp robe that shrouded his body and face.

  “I do not like the looks of this Haji,” said the colonel. “My scans are all dark. Same with his boat.”

  “What do you got, Everquist?” asked the sheriff.

  “Nothing sir. It’s like the digital camo I employed earlier but much more advanced. It’s like there’s nothing there.”

  “How can that be?!” asked the colonel, the rage in his tone breaking, “I’m looking right at it!”

  Danny shook his head.

  Proudstar said, “Red, drill down. Anything you can do to cut into this bird?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. It’s gotta be another dolphin cloak. I can’t touch it.”

  “Hellfire!” shouted the sheriff. “They’re going in the barn. What’s that THOR unit doing, colonel? He’s bigger than the damn airship when he puffs up like that.”

  “He’s making himself into a barricade to cut off sniper fire. They’re gonna evac that barn. We’d do well to drop some leg shots.”

  “Negative,” replied the sheriff angrily. “I ain’t ready to shoot humans. Why not use your bots to take out the civvies?”

  “Distract the THOR unit?”

  “Yeah, but send two borgs on a suicide run-around after the people, disable them. Non-lethally of course.”

  “We can make that happen. Langley, McBride!”

  “Still here, sir,” said McBride. “Can’t believe what that thing did to our spiders.”

  “We’ll talk later, SP’s. I got units 07 and 08 and will run for goal, you two split up the others however you want. Let’s embrace the suck! They’re getting away!”

  Danny watched Angevine carry Gabriel Martinez out the barn door. Someone had wrapped Martinez in a blanket. There was a dressing on his cauterized shoulder where the arm was ripped off.

  “That’s the guy CNED shot,” said Talboy over the com.

  “Please shut the fuck up, Talboy.”

  “Sorry sir.”

  The colonel chuckled, “All right, accelerating units 07 and 08. You ladies lead him off for me.”

  The pneumatic side door on the airship hissed and slid backwards to reveal a cargo bay with a textured rubcrete floor and four jump seats. Angevine laid Martinez on his back inside. A robust looking, little black man with a scowl on his face appeared next. He had a white piece of fur attached to his neck, a one-sided collar or something. Only a single name popped up on public ID, listing the dwarf as an Abner Family Pumpkin & Gourd independent contractor named Mister Goran.

  The pilot stood outside the door to his cockpit, facing the hovroad. He remained absolutely still. Weak drops of rain soaked into his robe, making dark spots. He was obviously large and muscular under the garb. Something about him was unsettling. It was impossible to see the man’s eyes. Only the black gestalt of a face was framed by the outline of the burlap hood which hung, unmoving in the near windless air.

  The dwarf used a prosthetic hand to pull himself into the cargo bay with surprising agility. He buckled himself into a jump seat and stared out the door, frowning severely. The dwarf had a compelling presence about him, but Everquist could not linger in one place for too long.

  The recording must be thorough.

  The pilot took a few steps away from the airship as he noticed the RIOT dogs advancing towards them from down field. The THOR unit turned and growled, a primitive, elemental sound.

  “What are our orders, sir?” asked Sergeant Azarov.

  “Can you get a clean shot on the people coming out of the barn?” asked Proudstar.

  “Negative. The big cyborg dog is blocking our vantage. They’re loading on the far side of that airship. None of us have eyes on anyone but the pilot. I’d have to shoot through that plane’s window to get the others. I’m guessing it’s bulletproof. Even with these rounds, that’s a tough business.”

  “All right, Badge. You think that bird’s gonna whistle, drop the pilot. Knee shots.”

  “Yes sir. Want me to try and shoot out the borg’s eye? He’s still as a statue right now, got a fix.”

  “Do it.”

  Danny heard the shot. The THOR unit did not move a centimeter. As soon as the sniper rifle fired, a protective titanalum lid flashed down to cover the cyborg’s vidorb. The bullet ricocheted into the sky. THOR retracted the metal eyelid and snarled.

  “That worked well. Shit. Okay, snipes, lines back on that pilot. He blinks,
drop him. Even if it’s fatal, take the shot,” said Proudstar grimly.

  Danny watched a blonde woman wearing overalls, hair in a ponytail, come out of the barn next.

  The wife, thought Everquist. Mrs. Dorothy Angevine.

  She was visibly upset. She was followed by her husband, who was yelling at her. She turned and yelled back at him. Whatever they were saying couldn’t be heard over the hum of the airship’s idling launch jets, but she was red in the face. The wife jumped into the airship and buckled herself beside the dwarf, looking out the window with a grieved expression. Angevine came around the front of the airship and stood beside THOR.

  “Want me to drop him?” asked Azarov.

  “Can you take a leg from here?” asked the sheriff.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Line it up for the knee.”

  “It will take his leg clean off.”

  “Your discretion, sergeant.”

  Angevine had his hand on the THOR unit’s head and was talking to the cyborg like it was a fond old friend.

  “He’s speaking to that robot, Marc,” said Proudstar.

  “CIA’s gonna want to know all about these guys. We gotta bring them in alive, Dale. At least the good old boy in the hat.”

  Azarov fired. The THOR unit reacted, moved its head in a flash, blocking the bullet. The cowboy fell back, grazed by shrapnel. He went to one knee, clutching his left eye, but held his hand up to indicate he was all right. He stood. Blood streamed down his face and he was wincing in pain. He shouted something at the THOR unit and the pilot. The pilot nodded. Angevine’s wife was screaming in the airship over the whine of the turbines.

  The cowboy pointed down field. THOR followed his direction, scanning. First, Angevine pointed at the approaching RIOT dogs, then towards the hovroad. Blood trickled between the fingers he was using to cover his eye. He said something more to his wife, then turned and went back into the barn. Dorothy Angevine looked furious, but stayed in the airship. She spoke to the black dwarf, words Danny could not hear.

  “Missed the son of a whore,” said Azarov with melancholy. “Want me to try the pilot?”

  “Negative, Sergeant. Scopes back on that borg. Check your HUD, people. There he goes!”

  THOR left his place beside the airship and charged the RIOT dogs, which were only thirty meters away, colliding with them at the edge of the driveway where the asphalt met the pumpkin field. He snapped three in his jaws, bisected two more with his right front claws and a sixth with a gnashing rear dew claw. THOR slowed his momentum, raking fifteen meter trenches into the soft mud as he banked around, but for once he was too slow.

  “My pups are down,” yelled McBride.

  “Mine too,” added Langley.

  “Stay in your birds. I’m still in it…” the colonel’s rising voice said.

  The final two RIOT bots made it past on the outside, gaining too much distance to be caught and ran top speed towards the airship.

  Danny watched the pilot, who remained unmoved, gargoyle still. The RIOT Dobermans were less than three meters away when they launched, black teeth gnashing as to break the man’s leg bones. The pilot’s hands flashed out at the last moment possible, palms textured like rubber. He braced, seizing each RIOT bot by the throat, easily absorbing their momentum. The flailing, snapping cyborgs were lifted into the air, and with a swift motion, the pilot slammed their heads together with enough force to crack their skull chassis. The black hands crushed inward further, mutilating the neck structures until their muscular, brown bodies went limp. The pilot tossed the deactivated borgs aside, never raising his hood nor gaze.

  “Androids,” said the colonel angrily. “That’s a violation of The Lunar Accord. I swear to sky I’m gonna burn this place to the ground.”

  Angevine came back out of the barn. His face was knitted with pain and he still covered his left eye with a bloody hand. He went to the airship, hopped in and knelt over the unconscious Mexican laying on the airship’s cargo deck. As soon as the airship’s side door closed, the pilot turned to get in himself.

  “Drop him, Badge,” said the sheriff. “All deps, fire!”

  The pilot twisted back around, blurring with speed to face the hovroad, and lifted his arm as Azarov, Downs and Talboy rained their bullets down on him. Danny watched the high density sniper rounds plink, plunk, plink off the hooded man’s forearm and chest. Three gaping holes were now visible in the man’s robe. Holes which revealed nothing but more blackness beneath.

  Azarov’s normally cool voice broke, “Those were all solids, sir!”

  The pilot lowered his arm and slowly shook his hooded head with an air of fatherly admonishment. Then he moved, fluid as water into the cockpit, sealing the door and spooling engines.

  “Want me to try the lightning gun, sir?” asked Azarov, panting with excitement. “I got enough juice for one more blast.”

  “Negative, Badge,” said the sheriff, destroying a new cigar. “Save it.”

  Danny watched the airship blow a mist of water off the surface of the asphalt as it launched and burned prop fans for the river. He sent one of his drones to pursue, but within seconds, even at full magnification, the ship was but a black dot on the western horizon.

  A dark haired woman appeared, standing in the side door to the barn.

  Tara Dean.

  Auto-klaxons lit up Danny’s holotab as the COD confirmed facial recognition. The woman did not look so formidable as her reputation allowed. Her bright green eyes gazed north in the direction the black airship had gone. The eyes were filled with yearning. Everquist felt sad as he looked upon her face.

  She needs something.

  The pack of six cybernetic Coyotes darted from the woods and ran single file along the side of the barn. They sat in a tight grouping, preternaturally focused on her, but still staying away from the side door.

  They sense danger.

  Tara Dean glanced at the Coyotes, gestured in their direction, then vanished back inside, closing the door after her.

  Danny switched drones. The THOR unit was galloping full velocity down the driveway. Divots of asphalt the size of bowling balls flew into the air as his heavy claws ripped up the pavement.

  Danny said, “Sir, you’ve got major incoming leveling 216 kph.”

  “Seeing that, Everquist.”

  “McBride, Langley!” said Apollo. “Prep fans in your bird and hold. Reinforcements are en route. You’ll be secure in your safety cages. We do not leave this local until I have Tara Dean in magcuffs!”

  “That’s a bad, bad call,” interjected the sheriff. “You’re like toads in those buses!”

  The colonel shouted furiously, “NEVER countermand me, LC! We got armored cages inside armored birds. Get your people to the cover of Globemaster 01. That’s an order!”

  “You ain’t my colonel no more, colonel,” said Proudstar after a pause that seemed to last days. “Fairly, your idea sucks. Give the fugitive up. She’s not worth dying for.”

  “It’s a military theater then. No blood on my hands, civvy,” said Apollo coldly.

  Proudstar faced his team, “That’s the same thing you said in Chābahār. Then same as now, good luck. Red?”

  “Sir?”

  “Cut the Army outta our stream.”

  “Done.”

  Proudstar nodded at Azarov, “Gunnies got ears?”

  “We’re loud and clear, sir,” said Azarov.

  “We are excusing ourselves from this engagement. Retreat to that irrigation tunnel beneath the hovroad. Now!”

  “Sir,” said Everquist.

  “What is it?!” asked the sheriff, his tone taciturn and resolved as he snatched up his M4.

  “Those Air Force AV9C Harriers will be there in 145 seconds, you should be able to see them on HUD. And…”

  “145 seconds too late,” said Proudstar, distracted as he watched Talboy, Downs and Azarov slide down the far side of the hovroad and crawl, one by one inside the small tunnel.

  It was only a meter wide, ma
de of corrugated metal running perpendicular to the hovroad above. The sheriff could hear the pounding gallop of the cyborg coming closer and closer down the driveway. Without looking back, he jockeyed down the gravel embankment towards the drainage pipe holding the big machine gun in his lap.

  “That’s not all we got incoming, sir. West tree line, clouds!” said Danny’s voice, almost choking.

  “Shit!” said Proudstar as he paused at the bottom of the embankment to light his last cigar. “How is this happening, Everquist!”

  Danny grabbed a patch of his thinning hair, “A dolphin, sir. This is happening because of Joan.”

  “How powerful can a dolphin be?”

  “What’s happening, sheriff?” screamed Talboy, his voice echoing with panic in the dark tunnel.

  Proudstar held his fist up for silence, tucking his legs inside the drainage pipe. They were at the base of the hovroad, fifteen meters down from the surface where it cut through the valley. Across the elevation of the hovroad Proudstar saw the COD being driven by Everquist zooming away west. Seconds passed. The sheriff inhaled, blew out a puff of smoke, holding onto the breath. He tensed his grip on the metal edge of the pipe until it felt like it would cut his skin as he gnawed the cigar.

  Above their heads, the filtration chambers of co2 scrubber C643 split open the clouds like a fleet of marauding shipping containers, each dangling 400 meters off the belly of the dirigible itself, still lost in the gray above.

  “That’s how powerful one dolphin can be, sir,” said Everquist reverently.

  Sheriff Proudstar said it as quiet as a mouse, “Motherfucker…”

  Murray Downs, first in at the opposite end of the tunnel, began stuttering, “Ssss’ ir, ssssiii’r…”

  The sheriff pulled himself away and looked at the faces of his deputies. Azarov looked stern and mean, frightened, like a mother bear ready to fight to the death. Downs and Talboy looked like high school football players.

  Too damn young.

  “Ssss’ ir!” stuttered Murray Downs again with alarm.

  They heard scratching followed by a deep, projected growl.

  At the opposite end of the corrugated metal tunnel, thirty meters away if a centimeter, the blue vidorbs of the THOR cyborg gleamed like icicles on fire, scanning the sheriff’s team. The animal snarled, a deafening sound, and raked one powerful paw inside, ripping the metal and shaking the earth.