Shockwave

by Lindsay Buroker

  Usually, Casmir found his neighborhood peaceful, but not tonight. He jumped at every student or professor riding past on a bicycle, scooter, or driftboard, and he peered into the shadows between every cottage, expecting a crusher to leap out at any second.

  What was he doing coming home? This was the most obvious place for them to look.

  But Kim hadn’t answered any of the fifty messages he’d left. She had a chip—she wasn’t one of those glasses-wearing holdouts who refused that technology—but she didn’t like distractions, so she spent more time with the network receiver switched off than on.

  His insides twisted and writhed as he imagined her dead inside the house, a casual flick of a wrist from a crusher the cause. How many had already died because someone had sent those two after him? He’d had the news updating, text, photos, and videos scrolling through his contact display, and the campus explosion and attack were all over it.

  “Casmir?” came a call from behind him.

  Even though he recognized the voice, he jumped, half flinging himself behind a tree before his brain caught up to his hyper-stimulated reflexes.

  “Just like a Kingdom knight,” he muttered, rolling his eyes at himself.

  Kim peered around the tree, one of her braids of dark hair swinging over her shoulder. She carried her work bag in one hand and, slung over her shoulder, her exercise bag with two wooden practice swords strapped to it. That was where she’d been. The dojo. He’d forgotten it was her kendo night.

  “Are you all right?” Kim asked. “I just checked my messages and was about to reply when I saw you walking up ahead. Where’s your scooter?”

  “My scooter is the least of my problems,” Casmir said, though he grimaced, remembering the empty parking space with nothing but debris left in it. “Someone’s sicced two crushers on me.”

  “I saw. Repeatedly.” She raised her eyebrows slightly.

  “Your eyebrows are judging me.”

  “Are they?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a good thing my other body parts are neutral on the matter, or we couldn’t be friends.”

  Casmir shook his head, though he almost laughed, mostly because he could count on Kim to stay calm. He knew she wasn’t indifferent; she just didn’t react much outwardly unless someone managed to fray her nerves, at which point, she snapped.

  “I’m a little concerned,” he said, also striving for under-reacting—or at least not hyperventilating.

  “I would be too. From everything you’ve told me about them…” Kim looked down the street, their two-story rental cottage visible through the trees at the end of the cul-de-sac. “Was it wise to come home?”

  “No. That’s why I told you not to. We have to assume they’ll check there, if they haven’t already. The crushers are smart. And whoever sent them—well, I don’t know yet if they’re smart. I have no idea who they are. Or why they’re picking on me.”

  A wheeled auto-wagon whirred past them, heading straight for the house.

  “That’s the grocery delivery,” Kim said. “We should—”

  “Leave it. I have to get off-world—out of the system, I’m told. And you… Feh, I don’t know, but you can’t go back there, not now. They’ll question you about me, and depending on what megalomaniacal asshole programmed them, they could hurt you. A lot.”

  Someone else wearing wooden swords who’d been training with her father and numerous skilled athletes since childhood might have said something cocky about taking care of herself. But Kim gazed thoughtfully at the delivery wagon whirring up the street, then nodded.

  “I can stay at my mother’s place for a couple of days.”

  “Is she in town?”

  “No.” Kim smiled faintly. “That’s why I can stay.”

  “Ah.” Casmir considered whether she would be safe there, or if the crushers could be expected to search down the friends and family of everyone who knew him. The fact that Kim’s mother was technically dead might throw them off, but every year there were more people who, when facing health problems that modern medicine couldn’t solve, uploaded their memories and consciousness into android bodies with computer brains. For all he knew, Mrs. Kelsey-Sato still had to pay her taxes. Presumably, she had to pay the rent and utilities for the apartment her belongings occupied on her long stints hunting for interesting ruins in the Twelve Systems.

  The delivery wagon left its insulated grocery box on the front stoop, and Casmir eyed it wistfully, thinking how much a bottle of celebratory wine—or alcohol of any kind—would take the edge off. But he needed all of his edges right now.

  As the wagon whirred away, the front door opened. The dark body of a crusher peered down at the package.

  Casmir cursed, grabbed Kim, and pulled her around the oak tree, praying the trunk was stout enough to hide them.

  “They’re creepy looking,” Kim whispered, hunkering beside him.

  “Yeah.” Casmir gripped the rough bark of the tree, afraid to peek his head out to look but afraid not to. What if it was already sprinting toward them?

  He peered around the trunk, and his breath caught. It stood on the stoop, looking around the neighborhood. Its featureless black head paused, pointing straight at him.

  “We have to go.” Casmir spun, looking for someone in a car that they could jump in. Even a car might not be fast enough.

  “It’s coming,” Kim said as he spotted a teenager on an air bike.

  “Follow me.” Casmir sprinted straight at the kid, waving his arms wildly. “We need your bike.”

  “What? No way, Prof. This is a—”

  Kim sprang past him and grabbed the teenager. The kid grunted and tried to fight, but she blocked the wild flails and dragged him off the bike.

  “Sorry—it’s an emergency.” Casmir snatched the hovering vehicle before it could shoot off down the street without its rider.

  “Run!” Kim ordered the kid, flinging a hand in the direction of the nearest house.

  The crusher was halfway to them and picking up speed. Casmir leaped onto the seat as Kim smashed herself on behind him, her work bag clunking him in the ribs.

  He gripped the handlebars, relieved the bike was similar to his scooter, and started to turn them around, but the crusher was scant meters away. There wasn’t time.

  “Hang on!” Casmir twisted the handlebars, and the bike hurtled toward a path between two houses.

  Kim clamped onto him. Casmir swung the bike wide to avoid hitting trash bins and a dog kennel—much to the alarm of the dog, who barked uproariously at them. A lilac bush batted him in the face as they flew past far too fast.

  Kim’s grip tightened around his waist, either because she was afraid she’d fall off, or she believed his torso deserved punishment for his crazy flying.

  It would only get crazier. He almost tipped them on their side as he swung into the next street and raced up it at top speed.

  “It’s following us,” Kim reported, little emotion in her voice, even though she shouted to be heard over the roar of the engine and the whistling of the wind.

  “I have no doubt.” Casmir reached max speed on the bike and grimaced at the display. It wouldn’t be enough.

  Staff and students walking home shouted from the sides of the streets. Casmir veered around an auto-cab driving in their direction. The computer driver didn’t honk, but the passenger leaned out the back window and flung a curse. Casmir whipped around a corner, only because he knew the street they were on ended up ahead, not because he had any idea where to go.

  “It’s gaining on us,” Kim reported. “What’s its max speed?”

  “More than ours.” Casmir could see the dark figure in the mirror, arms and legs pumping like those of a human runner, but with speed that no man, augmented or not, could ever achieve.

  The wind tore at his face, threatening to rip out his contacts, and he squinted. He needed those contacts to see, not simply to display the news.

  “I don’t suppose you have any grenade launchers in you
r gym bag,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I have sweaty socks and a towel.”

  “Those might kill a human but not a crusher.”

  “Hilarious. Casmir, we need a plan.”

  Another auto-cab appeared ahead, this one crossing an intersection. Casmir cursed and jerked the handlebars to steer around it. His hair whipped into his eyes, making him wish he hadn’t put off getting it cut. He dared not swipe it away. His shaking hands would never get a grip again. He’d never driven anything this fast and was amazed his poor depth perception and lackluster coordination hadn’t caused a crash. Yet.

  “I’m open to suggestions.” Casmir was so focused on not crashing or running over anyone that he could barely process anything else. His work satchel was still slung across his body, but the tools inside were for fine motor work. There was nothing that could blow up a nearly impervious robot.

  Behind them, the crusher closed the distance. It sprang at them, and he whipped the bike between two houses again. That bought them a couple of seconds as the crusher sailed past, not able to change directions until it landed. But it would catch up again quickly.

  The next street over was a major artery with auto-trucks and cabs filling six busy lanes. They had come to the edge of the campus.

  Casmir roared into the traffic without pausing. He was going twice the speed limit, and he weaved in and out of the larger vehicles, heading toward the heart of the city. Just where he wanted to bring a deadly killing machine.

  Kim shifted behind him, keeping her vise-like grip with one arm and tugging one of her bags open with the other. Casmir couldn’t believe she still had all her belongings.

  “Going to try the socks?” he glanced back, not seeing the crusher in the mirrors.

  For a second, he believed they had lost it, but no, it was weaving between the lanes of traffic, the same as he was. And once again, it was gaining on them.

  “I have a lighter and aerosol deodorant,” Kim said.

  Casmir smiled. “A nice idea, but an explosion that small won’t do anything to stop it.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Casmir allowed himself a flicker of hope as he sped between two towering refrigerated trucks. There wasn’t much room between them, and he drove as straight as possible.

  Horns blared and a siren wailed behind them. Lights flashed in his mirror. Two Kingdom Guard cars sped onto the road, also weaving through traffic. Gunshots fired.

  “This is fercockt!” Casmir blurted.

  Why were the Guard officers shooting? Speeders weren’t shot.

  “They’re shooting at the crusher,” Kim yelled.

  Of course. The officers would have seen the footage from campus by now.

  “Maybe they have grenade launchers,” Casmir said.

  “They hit it with bullets.” She looked back. “It didn’t do anything. Would DEW-Tek weapons be effective?”

  Casmir shook his head. “Even if they melted the liquid metal alloy, the crusher would simply rearrange the damaged molecules until it could repair them. Honestly, even grenades wouldn’t destroy it, only buy us time while it fixed itself.”

  By all the gods in the Twelve Systems, why had he helped invent such a thing? Was he now going to die because he’d foolishly been honored to work for the king?

  “Faster, Casmir,” Kim urged, plastering herself against his back.

  The crusher was so close, they could hear its pounding footsteps on the pavement over the roar of traffic.

  Casmir swerved to drive in the middle of two lanes. More gunshots rang out, the Guard cars swerving and accelerating to keep up. A bullet glanced off the crusher’s shoulder and whizzed past close enough that Casmir heard it.

  He shook his head, too terrified to feel anything but numbness. Or maybe that was shock. This couldn’t possibly end well.

  Hoping vainly that he might throw the crusher off their path, he sped between a towering refrigerated truck and a hulking vehicle carrying tanks of something.

  “Hydrogen,” he blurted, spotting an H on the side of one of the tanks. “If we could breach—”

  A bullet slammed into the tank ahead of them, and clear liquid hydrogen shot out. Kim shifted behind him.

  Casmir wanted to slow down, to give her time to do something with that lighter, but the crusher appeared in his mirror, running behind the two trucks. Its arms and legs pumped so fast they blurred.

  “Go, go!” Kim shouted as they drew even with the liquid spurting out.

  As they passed it and sped out from between the two trucks, she shifted, and her elbow whacked him on the shoulder as she threw something.

  “Was that—”

  An explosion roared, drowning out his words and everything around them. A shockwave hammered their backs, and the air bike wobbled riotously as fire lit the darkening night.

  Casmir fought to stay upright, fought to steady it, to keep going. In the mirror, he saw orange flames scorching the night sky. Secondary explosions roared on the back of the first as the other tanks on the truck blew. The refrigerated truck was thrown onto its side, squealing thunderously as it skidded across the pavement, blocking the lanes. Blocking everything.

  Casmir licked his lips, watching the road ahead but also watching the mirror, afraid the crusher would survive that, afraid it would keep running, keep chasing them forever. Or until it caught him.

  But flames roared, spewing smoke into the sky, and the wrecked trucks filled the highway. The gunfire had stopped. Did that mean the Guard officers couldn’t see their target anymore?

  Helicopters and Kingdom shuttles appeared in the sky, flying toward the wrecks.

  Behind Casmir, Kim carefully tucked her lighter—more of a heating element, but clearly enough to produce flame—back into her work bag.

  Casmir stayed on the highway for another ten miles so he could continue to fly at top speed and put distance between them and the crusher. It was possible that explosion had been enough to irreparably destroy it, especially if it had been right beside the tanks when they blew, but he wouldn’t count on it. The nanites integrated into the liquid metal molecules meant every part of it was smart enough to start the repair process, to collect fresh materials to integrate if necessary. And, unless the knight had somehow managed to destroy the one in the parking garage, there was at least one more crusher out there.

  It grew harder to control the bike. Casmir feared some mechanical failure was imminent, but the problem was his shaking hands. His entire body was shaking. Gottenyu, what if he had a seizure? He’d taken his medication that morning, but even the potent rivogabine wasn’t always enough to keep his brain in equilibrium during stressful situations.

  He took the next exit, terrified of what would happen to Kim if he had a seizure while he was flying, and found a park. He pulled into the vehicle lot, stopped the bike, and almost collapsed as he slid off. His stomach churned with the promise of vomit, and he stumbled toward the bushes. Maybe he would have a seizure and throw up at the same time. Wouldn’t that be fun for Kim to witness?

  Leaving the lights of the parking lot, he slumped against a tree. His legs gave out, and he let them, sinking to the ground, cool damp grass pricking at his palms.

  Kim walked over, carrying both of her bags, and sat down next to him. She must have realized that he needed a minute, or maybe she needed a minute too, because she didn’t speak right away. In the bushes, crickets chirped and czerwony bugs buzzed, the noises just audible over the roar of the highway a few blocks away. Casmir wondered if the wrecks had already been cleared.

  “That ugly robot better not have bothered anything inside the house. Like my books. My real loved-and-touched physical books.” For the first time, Kim’s voice held emotion. Anguish. “Some of them are hundreds of years old.”

  “Ugly?” Casmir’s voice came out far more normal than he felt it should. He wasn’t shaking quite as much now. It seemed safer to talk about the robots, because he would feel like a complete ass if Kim’s book collection had been d
estroyed. Or any of her belongings. He had no idea why this was happening, but he knew it was because of him. “I always thought the crushers were kind of elegant.”

  “Your bird is a lot better looking.”

  Reminded that he had it in his satchel, Casmir rushed to unlatch it and check on the contents. What if it had been smashed to bits in all that chaos? Ah, no. He found the robot bird intact and held it up to the parking lot lights to look for damage.

  “It’s certainly a more amiable creation.” Casmir gently returned it to its home. “Thank you for your quick thinking back there.”

  “Welcome.” Kim always accepted praise with a grudging mumble, as if it hurt to receive it, and she would rather shrug it off. “Thank you for not crashing. I was a little concerned when I remembered your eyes.”

  Casmir’s left eye blinked. He sighed and rubbed it. “My vision doesn’t affect my driving.”

  “I’ve seen the squash ball dangling on a string in the alley to keep you from hitting the trash bin with your scooter.”

  He snorted. “It slightly affects my depth perception. My optometrist has advised me not to take up racket sports.” Not comfortable talking about his physical deficiencies, even with an old friend, he waved to Kim’s belongings and asked, “Why do you keep a lighter in your gym bag?”

  “It was in my work bag.”

  “Ah.” Casmir scratched his chin. “Why do you keep a lighter in your work bag?”

  “For warming the agar plates,” she stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the system.

  For a bacteriologist, maybe it was.

  “Anything else of interest in there?” He poked her bag. “In case we need to come up with further brilliance?”

  “I have several virus samples in a cold box that a colleague asked me to drop off at Mokku Park Lab tomorrow. Hisayo in immunology is working on some vaccines.”

  “Those won’t be useful on the crushers, I fear. But I’m making a special note to keep my fingers out of your bag.”

  “Always wise. Women don’t like men poking through their personal items.”