In spite of all her fancy sensors Maria fell into a trap so ancient its origins are lost in human prehistory. It happened just as it was supposed to, suddenly, and without warning. One moment she was walking along the trail, scanning the surrounding vegetation for sensors, and the next she was falling like a rock. Had she been a human, or even a real dog, the metal spike would have killed her. As it was, the spike entered two thirds of the way up her side, destroyed her solar cells, and wiped out her radio receiver before coming out through the other side.
Swearing steadily, Renn climbed down the crumbling side of the pit, careful to avoid the forest of sharp spikes which lined the bottom of the pit. Gently, he lifted her off the spike. “'Marla? Marla? Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can hear you,” she snapped. “That damned spike wiped out my solar cells, not my hearing.” She regretted the words the moment she said them, but she was scared and embarrassed.
Renn looked hurt as he lifted her up and out of the pit. “I thought you'd been injured.”
Back on her feet again, Marla waited while Renn climbed out of the pit. “Jonathan?”
“Yes?”
“It was a stupid thing to say. I was embarrassed that's all. Mighty cyberdog falls into a covered pit and makes a fool of herself. Forgive me?”
Renn smiled. “You're forgiven.”
So they kept on going. An hour passed. Marla could no longer monitor local radio traffic, and the servos for her right rear leg seemed a hair slow, but other than that she felt pretty good. She put on a burst of speed intent on scouting ahead.
Meanwhile Renn found himself plodding along, fighting the fatigue that tried to pull his eyelids down, forcing himself to concentrate. Look right, look left, lift the right foot, put it down, lift the left foot, put it down. Look forward, look back, lift the right foot, put it down. The sequence seemed to go on forever.
Then Marla appeared out of nowhere, nudged him off the trail, and urged him to be silent. Suddenly all his senses were crystal clear, his nerves were wire tight, and the fatigue was gone, washed away by a flood of adrenaline. Fading into the foliage, Renn stood perfectly still. He looked down at Marla for some indication of the problem, but her attention was focused on the trail, so he slipped off the safety on his blast rifle, and held it ready.
The first thing Renn heard was a snuffling sound followed by heavy breathing and the swish of branches along something big. Then he heard a radio, the crackle of a brief transmission, and static. None of which prepared him for the sight that followed.
It was a dog, a dog the size of a small pony, and it didn't look friendly. A permanent snarl wrinkled the skin on its long wolf-like nose, fangs appeared and disappeared as it rippled its lips, and red eyes darted this way and that. To Renn's astonishment there was a man riding on the wolf-thing's back. He was dressed in green camos, not as good as Renn's skins, but effective nonetheless.
The man was armed with some sort of auto-shotgun. It had a big drum style magazine and a short barrel. Considering the thick underbrush it made sense. There's no need for a long range weapon when you can't see more than fifteen feet.
The genidog suddenly came to a stop and looked right at Renn. Fortunately, Renn's skins rendered him almost invisible. This confused the animal because it could smell Renn but couldn't see him. It never got a chance to figure things out because a fraction of a second later Renn fired. Even as its master fell out of the saddle, the genidog leaped towards them, and was in midair when Renn's beam sliced through it. The genidog landed with a thump in a pile of its own entrails. Though mortally wounded, it continued to growl and snap. Renn put another bolt through its head and it finally lay still.
Renn looked at Marla and she looked at him. “What the hell is that?” he asked.
“Some extremely bad news,” Marla answered thoughtfully. “I've got a feeling we just met our first genidog.”
There was a crackling sound off to their left. Then a female voice said, “Unit six ... base to unit six. Gilda here. Come in six, you miserable sonovabitch.”
Renn ran over to the radio and picked it up. A quick check revealed a red transmit key. It was risky, but maybe the heavy static would cover his voice enough to make it work. He pressed the key. “Six to base. Lighten up for God's sake. I just stopped to take a shit.”
“You are a shit, unit six. Now wipe your ass and get it in gear.”
“Yes, your mamship. Unit six out.”
Marla looked up and shook her head. “That was close.”
“Close, hell ... that was a disaster. I bought us half an hour, tops.”
“So what do we do?”
Renn smiled. “Make every minute count.”
A big wolf smile appeared on Marla's muzzle. “Then let's go.”
They went. Marla took the point, determined to protect Renn, while he came along behind, watching both sides and their back trail as well. Just to make sure that no one could sneak up from behind them, Renn scattered mini-mines along the path. They were a goodbye present from Jumo, and now seemed like a good time to use them. Each mini-mine was a tiny six-sided bomb that would detonate under the slightest pressure. The mini-mines were designed to wound rather than kill. Every person involved in giving aid was one less person to fight. That was the theory, anyway. But if the mines just let him know someone was coming, Renn would be happy.
Marla smelled the sentry long before she saw him. His cover was excellent, as were his camos, but his deodorant had given up long ago. His body odor was the olfactory equivalent of a neon sign, pointing out his position, and screaming, “Kill me.” In order to reach him, however, Marla would have to cross a small clearing, and do so without being seen. Holding her belly to the ground she crept forward. Unfortunately, the guard was paying attention and spotted her right away. “Hey! Doggie! Here, boy.”
Marla wagged her tail as she approached him. He held out his hand. “What you doin’ here boy?”
Marla pretended to sniff it and grinned. “I'm biting people.” As she spoke the sentry saw rows of gleaming teeth. His eyes got big, his big Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and he started to back away. Then he dropped his weapon and ran.
Renn stepped into the clearing his blast rifle ready. “Problems?”
“Naw ... just a guy who doesn't like dogs.”
Gilda was a big woman, so big that when she put her combat boots up on the console, they obscured a good portion of the plot screen. That, and the fact that she had her face buried in a muscle mag, provided Renn and Marla with a period of grace.
Had Gilda been watching, she would have Seen light after light flash onto the screen as the two intruders tripped entire rows of sensors. Of course there were audio alarms too but Gilda had turned those off. They frequently went off by mistake, and besides, they interfered with the music booming into her stereo ear plugs. Nonetheless all good things must come to an end. Wrapping up a great article on glut enhancement, Gilda glanced up at the plot screen and saw about a hundred flashing lights. A fraction of a second later her huge feet crashed to the floor and a meaty index finger hit the general alarm button. Klaxons went off and people started running in every direction.
Renn and Marla were close enough to hear the klaxons as they went off. Then, before either one could react, there was a series of loud cracks from somewhere behind them. Someone or something had stepped on the mini-mines. Renn whirled just as three genidogs appeared around a curve in the trail. All were riderless, and one was missing a paw. The mini-mines no doubt.
While the injury didn't seem to slow him clown much, a blaster bolt did, passing through the beast to hit the ground beyond. Renn kept his finger on the firing stud as he swung left, catching the next animal from behind, slicing through it lengthwise until blue energy found and destroyed its brain.
Meanwhile, Marla had rushed forward in an attempt to distract the third beast and soon wished she hadn't. The big animal bit into her right side and lifted her kicking into the air. For a moment she thought it was all o
ver but fortunately the huge beast had sunk its teeth into a saddlebag instead of her. It shook her a couple of times and threw her down.
The genidog died a moment later as an energy beam burned through its heart. Even as it fell, Marla was up and running. Renn was right beside her. Both knew speed was of the essence. Klaxons were blaring, security personnel were running in every direction, and searchlights were probing the tree line. This was their moment of opportunity. Within minutes the confusion would be over and so would their chances of getting in.
The fortress loomed big and black up ahead, light spilling out from open doors as more and more security troops poured out. Renn ran straight at them, waving his arms, and yelling at the top of his lungs. “Over this way! Come on! There's hundreds of ’em. Hold ’em off while I radio for reinforcements!”
“Yes, sir!” a sergeant replied, leading his squad towards the woods.
Then Renn heard a voice from off to the right. “Reinforcements?” an officer demanded. “What reinforcements? Stop that man! Can't you idiots do anything right?”
Renn sent blue energy burping off into the officer's general direction, and eager to participate, so did a number of security people just arriving on the scene. The officer returned fire, and moments later the night was criss-crossed with a latticework of energy beams, and a hail of lead.
Renn turned and ran towards the fortress. Up ahead a door opened silhouetting a huge figure. “Quick ... we need help out here!” Renn shouted as he ran towards the door.
But Gilda was suspicious. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, the “you” somewhat distorted as Renn hit her with a full body block.
They crashed to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Gilda managed to come out on top. A buzzer added its insistent voice to the incredible cacophony of background sound as massive blast-proof doors began to slide slowly closed.
Gilda's huge fist connected with Renn's jaw. A wave of darkness rose and tried to pull him under. Gilda smiled as he brought his knee up between her legs. “That ain't gonna work on me, buster. Try this on for size.” Gilda raised her fist and prepared to smash it down into Renn's face.
Marla growled, and came in from the side, fangs bared. Gilda rocked backwards, throwing up her arms to protect her face. Renn brought up both feet and kicked with all his might. His boots hit Gilda in the chest, pushing her up and back. Her head hit hard and Gilda was unconscious when the heavy doors cut her in two. Renn turned away. It wasn't a pretty sight.
Struggling to his feet Renn took a look around. Dredging up a mental image of the blueprint Renn saw they were right next to the security control center. There was the lift tube with the stairs which spiraled upwards around it, and the corridor leading to the mechanical section, and, last but not least, the door to the security control center. Ripping open one of Marla's saddlebags, Renn grabbed two gas grenades and stepped towards the open door.
Before he could throw the grenades, a balding tech with an empty coffee cup in his right hand stepped through the door and said, “Who the hell are you?”
“I'm afraid I don't have time for formal introductions,” Renn replied. “Could you move over just a hair?”
Responding to Renn's polite tone, the tech did as he was asked, frowning when he saw the grenades.
“Thanks.” Renn tossed the grenades through the door. The tech turned to look, and Renn shoved him inside, slamming the door behind him. The grenades hit the floor with a soft thud, rolled for a few feet, and went off with a small pop. The tech dropped his coffee cup and dived for them. Too late. He was unconscious by the time he hit the floor. And so were all the others in the room. Technicians were slumped and sprawled every which way, their screens going unmonitored, the soft mutter of radio traffic going unheard.
Suddenly Shinto's voice shattered the quiet of the room. “Control. What the hell's going on?” No answer. “I said what the hell's going on? Are you asleep down there?”
Still no answer. There was a pause, and then Shinto spoke again, fear beginning to color his voice. “Control ... answer me goddamn it!” Silence.
Renn used his blast rifle to spot weld the control center doors closed. According to the security plan all external doors were controlled from inside the center. As long as the people inside the center were unconscious no one could get in or out of Shinto's fortress. “There ... that should hold ’em for awhile. Now let's find the slimy bastard.”
Discarding his rifle Renn drew the .75 and followed Marla up the spiral staircase. By silent agreement they'd avoided the lift tube, not wanting to enter anything that could become a trap. As they arrived on the main floor, Marla went left while he went right.
The place was huge. The rooms were oversized, as if constructed for the comfort of giants. Compensation for Shinto's claustrophobia perhaps? Whatever the reason, the place was enormous and filled with fine furniture, exquisite works of art, and the very latest technology. Music followed Renn everywhere he went, rooms sensed the heat of his exertions and bathed him with cool air, doors opened at his approach, and entire walls rippled with warm color. Robots hurried up and down side corridors, motors humming, the very picture of domestic tranquility. Everything seemed so normal and quiet that Renn felt silly sneaking around with gun in hand.
Marla rounded a corner and shook her head. “Nothing.”
Renn started to answer, but cut himself off as a rather large robot walked up and stopped a few feet away. Like most household robots, it had a vaguely humanoid appearance, but unlike most, was wearing clothes. Unbeknownst to Renn, it was currently fashionable to dress one's robots in fanciful outfits, and this one looked like an undertaker. Maybe it was the clothes, but there was something about the robot which he didn't like—something ominous. The robot's cultured voice interrupted his thoughts. “Good evening. I am known as Bruno. My master sends his greetings, and wonders if you would care to join him in his study.”
Renn and Marla looked at each other and then back to the robot. “Shinto sent you?” Renn asked.
“That is correct,” the robot answered patiently. “And he asks that you join him in his study.”
“It could be a trap,” Marla said suspiciously.
Renn nodded. “It probably is. But we could spend a week chasing him all over the castle. Let's see what's on his mind. Maybe he wants to surrender!”
“OK,” Marla replied doubtfully. “But let's be careful.”
Renn turned to the robot and gave a half bow. “Take us to your leader.”
“Please follow me.” As the robot walked away, Renn dipped a hand into one of Marla's saddlebags, withdrew two small objects, and stuffed them into a pocket. Sensing the motion, Bruno turned his turret-like head.
“We're right behind you, Bruno,” Renn said, watching with interest as the robot headed towards a blank wall, As the robot approached, the wall checked its identity, matched it with a master list, and released a video lock. A door appeared where a blank wall had existed a moment before.
Renn felt a little foolish realizing that they'd seen only that which Shinto wanted them to see. And from his memory of the blueprints, there shouldn't be a door in that wall either, all of which proved Shinto was nobody's fool. Given the infinite possibilities of video camouflage, they could've spent hours trying to ferret him out. And given that fact, why had Shinto agreed to see them? Was he scared? Tired of being hunted in his own fortress? Or inviting them into a trap just as Marla feared. They'd have to be very, very careful. Renn tightened his grip on the .75 and followed the robot through the hidden door.
The door hissed shut behind them as they took a right-hand turn, and followed the robot towards a private lift tube. Bruno touched a panel and brought a platform up from the level below. Marla sat back on her haunches. “I'll wait here. Send the platform back for me when you arrive.”
Renn nodded his agreement. If the lift was a trap it would capture one, but not both of them. He stepped aboard and heard a slight hum as the platform carried them upwards. It came to a
smooth stop, and as they moved forward Renn pretended to stumble, and fell against the robot. Bruno waited patiently while he regained his balance. “Sorry about that,” Renn said. “I'm getting clumsy in my old age.”
Bruno stepped off the platform with Renn close behind. The robot turned. “We will wait for your companion.” Renn nodded his agreement. If Bruno resented the delay there was no sign of it on his metallic features.
Marla arrived moments later, and both followed the robot down a plushly carpeted hallway. It opened up into a huge combination bedroom and study. A fireplace large enough to roast an ox dominated one wall, a vid screen another, while the other two were transparent, one opening up onto a veranda. Shinto stood before it looking out into the night. As they entered he turned to greet them, but remained where he was, hands clasped behind him.
Renn found himself looking at a handsome man with bright blue eyes and a slightly sardonic smile. “So we finally meet. How was Swamp?”
Renn was struck dumb for a moment by the sheer effrontery of the man, and then very much against his will, he started to laugh. Glancing around he said, “Not as pleasant as your country retreat.”
The other man nodded soberly. “Which brings me to your presence in my home. Tell me something, Citizen Renn, you were once a businessman, and a good one. Good enough to build a business worth stealing. What are you now, I wonder ... a businessman ... or a criminal out for stupid revenge?”
Renn dropped into a nearby chair, but kept the .75 in his hand, pointing it towards the ceiling. “Neither one. I'm a citizen looking for some justice.”
“Oh really?” Shinto sneered. “And where, pray tell, do you expect to find that? In the courts that convicted you? In a jury of your peers?”
“Nope,” Renn answered evenly, allowing the .75 to come down until it was aimed at Shinto's belly. “I expect to find it right here. In the barrel of my gun.”
Shinto laughed. “You and I are much alike, Citizen Renn. More so than you would care to admit. I, too, make my own justice. And when that fails, I buy it. Tell me, Citizen Renn, what are your terms? How much will your justice cost?”
Prison Planet Page 23
