by Isaac Hooke
“Thank you,” Tahoe sent. They had already agreed that Snakeoil would act as their eyes in the sky, scouting out for any rogue Hoplites that might try to shoot down the grappling hook from afar. The Motley Brown’s position wasn’t the most optimal for that, situated as it was at the center of the four grappling hooks, so Snakeoil had deployed one of the shuttles to relay visual information to the main ship. It hovered somewhere above even now. Several Centurions were aboard the shuttle, equipped with laser rifles, and they aimed down at the site from the open ramp, ready to sever the umbilicals of any crabs that got too close to the carbon fiber tether. They planned to combine their shots so that the laser intensity of their rifles would match that of a single cobra.
“Got a slug emerging!” Fret said.
Tahoe could feel the ground shaking. That meant the site was lost, and they’d have to reposition.
“Recall the harpoon!” Tahoe told Snakeoil.
“Spikes have retracted!” Snakeoil said. “Hang on, we’re reeling it in!”
Tahoe, Fret and Lui leaped upward, and wrapped their metal hands around the carbon fiber cord at different heights. They continued to fire their cobras out at the approaching crab horde. Those aliens were obviously sourced from a different slug than the one about to penetrate the ground underneath them.
The carbon fiber cord slid upward as the harpoon pulled from the surface. Just in time. The ground crumbled underneath them as a new sinkhole formed.
“Up up up!” Tahoe said, hoping to encourage Snakeoil.
A white-hot slug appeared, and it snapped upward at the withdrawing Hoplites and their harpoon.
“It’s gonna hit!” Tahoe said. “Jetting out of the way!”
He engaged his side jumpjets, swinging the cable forward and to the right, spiraling it out of the way of the slug, which continued upward, breaking free of the surface entirely.
The client crabs leaped away from where they were stowed on its back, and lunged toward the cable.
“Jetting further!” Tahoe said, engaging thrusters to send the cable even farther from the crabs. He fired his cobra at them at the same time, severing umbilicals.
“Firing Vipers!” Snakeoil said.
Twenty of those organic tethers snapped at the same time, severing the crabs from their host.
And finally, the slug and its trailing crabs were past, drifting harmlessly away into space.
Tahoe and his team had saved the carbon fiber cord, sparing them the precious time it would take to retrieve both ends and reattach.
“I got your next target site ready to go,” Snakeoil said. “Transmitting now. We’ve already primed it with a laser bore. Please hurl the harpoon toward the surface at your earliest convenience.”
Tahoe received the coordinates and the highlighted area appeared on the surface below him. It was about seven hundred and fifty meters away from the last site.
Below, the remaining crabs from the unseen slug were already clearing out and vanishing into the closest crevice, as they didn’t want to be exposed to the deadly Vipers of the Motley Brown for too long.
“Clear the cord,” Tahoe instructed.
He released the cable, along with Fret and Lui.
With his AI helping out with the aim, Tahoe threw the cable toward the asteroid as hard as he was able, and then he followed it down with the other two Hoplites.
They landed and took up a defensive position around the new grappling site, waiting for the next attack to come.
“How are we doing on time, Snakeoil?”
“I don’t have to tell you it’s not good to have to constantly keep repositioning like this,” Snakeoil said. “But we are making progress.”
“Will we move the damn rock in time?” Tahoe said. “If this keeps up?”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t,” Snakeoil said.
“That means no,” Tahoe pressed.
Snakeoil didn’t answer.
Tahoe would just have to hope that Rade, Shaw and the others kept the crabs and slugs, not to mention the rogue Hoplites, engaged down there.
He prayed they all were okay.
He hated losing comms with his brothers. Hated it.
They’ll be fine down there. I know they will.
He hoped he was right.
twenty-four
Not unexpectedly, the Volare wasn’t where it was supposed to be.
“So Zhidao captured the scout Snakeoil sent down here, and spoofed the location of the Volare,” Shaw said.
“Either that, or the more plausible explanation: he moved the vessel,” Surus said.
“Yeah, that’s the other option,” Shaw agreed.
Every time a branch had come up, she had Harlequin and TJ check for signs of combustion. And when the results inevitably came back negative on all passages, Shaw chose the tunnel that she thought had the highest chance of leading closer to the vessel location as recorded on the map.
Sometimes the team reached a dead end and had to backtrack, but slowly but surely they approached the target, filling out the dark spaces on the map between the grappler site and the ship in the process. But it was all for nothing. They resided in a vast cavern, kind of a nexus point where several other tunnels joined, but it was empty.
“Maybe the ship left the asteroid entirely,” Manic said.
“Why would Zhidao fly it out?” Bender said. “When the Motley Brown easily outclasses his ship, weapons-wise.”
“Well, for the obvious reason that Zhidao doesn’t want to lose the ship when the asteroid hits the planet?” Manic said. “The Purple could fly out from a tunnel on the other side, and escape in a shuttle while the Motley Brown was busy dragging the asteroid away.”
“That would mean Zhidao was giving up,” TJ said. “I doubt the Phant is capable of such a thing. He won’t go, not while there is a chance he could prevent us from moving his precious asteroid. Not after all the work it took him to set this all up. Would you, if you were the Phant?”
“Probably not,” Manic said.
“Instead of speculating, why don’t you just ask the expert?” Shaw said. “Surus?”
“Our prey is close-by,” Surus said. “My sense of him is the strongest so far.”
“There you go,” Shaw said.
“Told you, Man-Bitch fool!” Bender said.
Not wanting their verbal sparring to escalate, Shaw spoke before Manic could reply. “Though out of curiosity, Surus, how close does a Phant have to be to crabs and slugs to remain in control of them?”
“We have limited control of them through the higher dimensions of existence,” Surus answered. “Zhidao would want to stay within the vicinity of the asteroid. Inside is the best overall location, but somewhere right outside would also work.”
“So if we can find the Volare”—and Rade—”and chase it away from here, that means any crabs and slugs out there will stop attacking, period?”
“That’s right,” Surus said. “They’ll revert to their biological programming, which is tunneling through the rock, and converting it to geronium as they can. Though they’ll still attack anything organic that moves, so we could also use our presence to guide them away from the grapplers.”
“That could be useful if T2 is experiencing any difficulties above,” TJ said.
“Against the aliens, sure,” Shaw said. “But there are still the Hoplites. We’re not sure yet how many we shot down.”
“No,” Harlequin said. “But we are sure that there are at least three of them ahead of us somewhere. Most likely guarding the Volare.”
“So which way?” TJ said.
Shaw glanced in turn at the many different tunnels that were connected to this nexus point cavern.
“I have no idea,” Shaw said.
“Ah, shit,” Bender said. “I remember the good old days, when mechs left radiation trails that could be followed by pursuers.”
“Yeah, too bad radiation leakage was fixed like ten years ago, bro,” Manic said.
“I know, moron!” B
ender said. “I’m just saying: life was easier back then.”
“Still no sign of chemical combustion anywhere, Harlequin?” Shaw asked.
“No,” Harlequin said. “Though if you wanted an accurate reading, we’d have to deploy in all the adjacent tunnels and scan again, as we’ve been doing.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be looking for signs of jumpjet combustion…” Shaw said. “Harlequin, I want you to look for traces of starship propellant instead. There should be a much higher density of that present, considering how much more it takes to move a vessel the size of the Volare.”
“All right,” Harlequin said.
“What do you mean, all right, AI?” Bender said. “Damn it! I assumed you were searching for all possible particles out there!”
“Actually I was,” Harlequin said. “But as of yet, I have not detected propellant. But presumably, that was because the Volare didn’t pass through any of the previous tunnels. I didn’t feel the need to explain all of that to Shaw, however, when an all right was sufficient.”
“Oh,” Bender said. “Okay then. I approve. Carry on.”
“I’m glad I have your approval,” Harlequin said.
“Back talking AI,” Bender grumbled.
“Okay, everyone else, spread out to the different tunnels as well,” Shaw said. “Scan for propellant, oxidants, anything.”
Several minutes later Surus spoke up.
“Got something,” Surus said. She had taken one of the central tunnels that led deeper into the asteroid. “Found a pocket of propellant trapped inside a hollow of this particular wall. The Volare definitely went this way.”
Yes!
“Everyone, into Surus’ tunnel,” Surus ordered.
“So the Volare was here after all,” Manic said. “That means Zhidao didn’t capture Snakeoil’s drone like we originally believed.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Shaw said.
“You think he purposely planted propellant here to mislead us?” TJ asked.
Surus was the one who answered. “I wouldn’t put it past our prey.”
“No, I think he’s here,” Shaw said. “Surus, you’re still detecting him?”
“Strong as ever,” Surus said.
Shaw jetted into the central tunnel with the others, and together they proceeded onward, ballistic shields held in front of them, Hoplites mounted to the walls and ready to drop in case of attack. She had Harlequin mount to the ceiling, Surus the left wall, and Manic the right, while TJ and Bender stayed with her on the floor; that formation essentially gave the team a birds-eye view of any tangos that might be lurking inside the hollows of the different walls ahead. She had learned the trick from Rade.
Shaw kept her gaze mostly on the ceiling far ahead of her, since she had the best view of the terrain there.
She didn’t have long to wait before the enemy ambush came.
“I’m taking fire,” Harlequin transmitted.
“Drop!” Shaw said, and she crouched down behind her shield. The other Hoplites clung to their respective tunnel walls, mounting inside depressions.
“My shield is holding up, but not for long,” Harlequin said. “I’m attempting to triangulate their positions based on the intensity and location of the bore holes.”
“Don’t bother,” Manic said. “I got ‘em.”
Shaw glanced at her overhead map: two red dots had appeared further down the tunnel, where Manic had spotted them.
“Okay, they’re both on the left wall!” Shaw said. “Manic, Harlequin, you’re extremely exposed. Join Surus on the left wall. Everyone else, some covering fire!”
Shaw positioned her cobra over the edge of her shield and switched to the laser’s point of view. She zoomed in on one of the enemy positions.
Above the lip of a hollow, she saw the top of a ballistic shield similar to her own, along with the business end of a cobra. The laser dropped behind the shield as she watched, and then the shield descended behind the lip, vanishing from view. She fired anyway, to make sure the enemy stayed there.
Manic and Harlequin jetted down the middle of the tunnel, and landed near Surus, taking cover in nearby depressions.
“Looks like we’re going to be dug in here for a while,” TJ commented.
“Crabs on our six,” Surus said. “I would suggest wrapping this up sooner rather than later.”
Shaw glanced at her rear view feed. Sure enough, she could see crabs in the distance, approaching from behind. Beyond them the source slug filled up the tunnel, its wireframe shape appearing as a big blob on the LIDAR.
“They planned this,” Shaw said. “To pincer us.” She returned her attention to the forward feed from her cobra.
“Got a grenade coming my way!” Bender said.
Shaw zoomed out. She spotted a small dot plummeting toward her as well. Another grenade. She resisted the urge to bat it away with her shield: in her training sessions aboard the mech simulations of the Argonaut, Rade hammered into her head that grenades would detonate upon impact. Trying to bat a grenade would only cause it to detonate, damaging her shield.
Keeping said shield deployed toward the enemy, she leaped to her feet and jetted to the side, landing in another hollow nearby. The flash behind her told her the grenade had struck. She resumed her defensive crouch.
“Let’s get some covering fire on both their positions,” Shaw said. “Surus, Harlequin, I want you to close with them.”
“You got it,” Surus said.
Shaw realized vaguely she was always assigning Surus and Harlequin the dangerous tasks. It was a prejudice on her part, she knew. She tried to tell herself she chose them because their Artificial bodies were stronger, more resilient, but deep down she knew she did it because she valued human life above that of machines. Surus couldn’t die, of course, but her host Ms. Bounty could. And Harlequin had already died during the Second Alien War.
But they have backups.
Yes, but backups couldn’t restore the dead. Backups allowed the memories and personality of a lost AI to exist in a new one. Which was perhaps why Impostor Syndrome was so prevalent among AIs restored from backups.
How would that feel? To be me. And yet not me?
These thoughts passed through her mind fleetingly as she fired at the last known location of the rogue AI she had targeted, keeping it pinned. She realized it was the original Nemesis.
I’m about to kill an AI that has saved my life on numerous occasions.
And yet she had already backed it up, and was fighting in a mech operated by that very backup.
“Your anxiety levels are elevated,” Nemesis said.
Shaw continued to fire. She glanced at the crabs that were now within seventy-five meters behind them. “You don’t say!”
“You feel it, don’t you?” Nemesis pressed. “The guilt? You’re about to destroy my predecessor...”
Shaw sighed. “Yes, fine, you got me. But what are we supposed to do?”
More grenades arced into the air, and Shaw was forced to relocate.
“Grenades!” Shaw transmitted. That was a hint to Surus and Harlequin that covering fire would probably cease for a few seconds.
She landed as the grenade detonated behind her. Other flashes indicated where more grenades impacted near the others. She glanced at the status bars of the Hoplites and their pilots on her HUD: all green. No injuries.
She released an electrolaser grenade of her own, targeting the original Nemesis.
She kept her reticle aimed at the site. Nemesis emerged, moving fast, and Shaw was unable to align her laser in time. The rogue ducked behind another nearby hollow as the grenade detonated.
“Issuing covering fire again,” Shaw said.
She kept firing her cobra, pinning the rogue mech. The others kept the original Sprint locked down.
Meanwhile Surus and Harlequin crept their Hoplites forward.
She glanced at the rear feed. The crabs were within forty meters now.
Harlequin suddenly stood up and jetted forward, ma
king a rush at the rogue Nemesis. His mech vanished into the hollow.
The rogue mech went flying upward a moment later, shield ripped away.
Shaw led the target and fired. A lucky shot: she got it squarely in the AI core.
Momentum carried the original Nemesis upward. The mech smashed into the tunnel ceiling, and then slowly drifted downward, disabled.
And so it’s done.
I’ve killed my own mech.
She was flung backward as a flash filled her vision.
twenty-five
The hell was that?” Shaw asked.
“We were just struck by a grenade,” Nemesis answered.
“You could have warned me,” Shaw said.
“I did, but you didn’t hear, apparently,” Nemesis said.
“Damage?” she asked.
“The shield absorbed most of the blow,” Nemesis said. “However the entire upper half has been destroyed in the process.”
She examined her shield. Sure enough, it ended in a jagged edge that aligned roughly with her chest area. “Guess I’ll be doing a lot of crouching in the days to come.”
She scrambled to her feet and moved to the edge of the hollow she found herself in. She lifted her cobra over the lip.
The crabs were within twenty meters now. “Bender, start picking off those crabs!”
“Gladly!” Bender replied. “Buggies roasting on my laser fire, Jack Frost nipping at my jewels…”
“You and your bug Christmas songs!” Manic said.
The rest of the team renewed their covering fire. Surus crept toward the depression where the final rogue mech, the original Sprint, was pinned. Meanwhile Harlequin came in from the side, outflanking the target.
All of a sudden the rogue jetted into the air. It held its shield toward the Argonauts, and thrust backward, retreating into the tunnel.
“Oh no you don’t!” Shaw said. “Team, sync your cobras to mine!” She glanced at her rear feed. The crabs were almost on them. “And jet forward! We can’t stay here!” Last thing they needed was to fight the crabs and the laser-toting mech at the same time.
