by G Aliaksei C
Glancing at my left side I saw a black swirl filled with sparks. Bit by bit the nanites in my blood were fighting to close to gap. From my pouches I pulled out medical packs and emptied a bag of white powder into the swirling smog.
“This sort of outcome happens often?” I growled, getting to my feet.
“On occasion, every few years. It’s complicated and costly to plan for Shadows.”
“How disastrous is this?” I thought about the black boxes in everyone’s heads and figured the re-grown fighters could still collect their gear and loot.
“Bad. Most of our gear will be damaged and lost. We have lost all the tanks…”
A revelation struck me. This immortal society feared death, but not because of any pain or permanence. They feared it because it hurt their wallet.
Opening and tapping at her Menu Rarus activated the transport sitting nearby. The vehicle drove closer, extended a set of scoops and containers and started launching swarms of spherical drones. Each of the spheres had extendable arms, and they began collectively looting the field - extracting value not just from the corpses of the enemy, but from our dead as well. Pincers stabbed into enemy bodies, ripping out life-giving Gems of all colors and shapes. Hides and armored shells of the monsters were burned with a flamethrower-like weapon, and immediately vacuumed in by the drones. Small glass cylinders at the bottom of each drone began to fill up with repossessed Gem Dust. Weapons, armor and gear was stripped and stacked high in the hold of the transport. Swarms of drones strained to move our crumbled tanks, tethering them to the back of the armored truck.
It was a grim picture, a field of dread beings, ruined machines, abandoned weapons.
When did the tanks die? It must have been while I was knocked out.
“So. Shadows are psionic?”
“Indeed. Coincidentally, anti-fear shields are rare, costly, high-Class equipment, and they only work to protect a single being at a time.” She glanced at me. “Do you resist the fear because you are a Corporate?”
“We don’t have that emotion. Fear. It took me a moment to even detect the attempt.”
“You are saying there is nothing you fear?”
“No, I am simply incapable of it.”
“Understand that, for a local, I am well educated. I know what evolution is. And I know that fear is an evolutionary sensation almost all known creatures have, one that permits survival!”
“It’s also a sensation that was deemed unnecessary for Corporate. I was not born fearless, I was raised this way, and I survived because of it.”
I sat on the ridge with the Inson, brewing, until the drones finished their tasks half an hour later.
Despite getting nearly wiped out, we gathered almost no loot. This particular swarm preferred teeth and claws, and even the tanks I worked so hard to kill had a Gem-powered biological form of life for a main cannon. Most of our loot, therefore, was in the form of Gems and Gem Dust. Even I, a survivor, had lost one of my swords to the sheer wear of fighting the Shadow for those few seconds. The left arm of my exosuit was detached and left behind so as not to weigh down my ruined hand. I could only hope the payout would compensate for the damage.
“Rarus,” I called out to the fussing insectoid. She turned her small head to me. “The Shade, it was alive.”
She tilted her head. “How do you mean?”
“Couldn’t you see the aura?”
“No Mr. Frost, I cannot see the Aura of Life. It is a Corporate power. We, Inson, have others. You claim the Shade was a living, sentient creature?”
“Definitely.” I nodded, recalling the faint glow around the marauding Shadow.
“I have heard stories that Shades and Dark can talk, but there is no confirmed information there. They are too deadly to study.”
I had to drive this last surviving transport back to the town. Rarus, with her very generous proportions amplified by heavy armor, simply didn’t fit anywhere except on top or inside the cargo hold of the machine. The controls were simple, in that there was little more than a wheel and lever for managing motion.
Closer to the town I heard a thunderous clap through the storm. Rarus knocked through the roof and I stopped our convoy of salvage, climbing out on the downwind side of the machine. Carefully holding onto the handlebars I walked after the Inson towards the back of the convoy and stared at the last ruined tank in the line.
Half of the machine was cleanly cut off, leaving an exposed cross section of glowing metal. The rear of the previously tracked machine now scraped on the rocks, ruined treads left behind on the road.
“What happened?”
“Anomaly,” said Rarus, as if a war machine getting sliced in half for no reason was a normal occurrence on the Waste Ring. She reached down, picking up the tracks and throwing them into the wreck. “Let’s keep going.”
Over twenty beings and five tanks dove into the Waste Ring, but only two returned, dragging three and a half wrecks. The trip only lasted a few hours, but this hellish world had a ridiculous tax rate on life.
The empty, night streets of the Gate Town we left from greeted us with silence. Everyone was asleep and indoors, allowing us to pass unnoticed through the Gate.
In the end, having barely survived a fight for my life, I was more pissed at the traffic in the larger gate towns than the now-dead enemy, concerned more with not running over pedestrians than the recent battle.
4 : Strength Before
Day 3
Saying our goodbyes at a Gate town a few transitions later I left Rarus with the battered machine, scrap, and a promise of an upcoming deposit into my account when the prize was sold. I had no reason not to trust her - the alien had been honest so far.
Somewhere along the way back to Monument town I sat down on a bench near the lovely, well-decorated Gate plaza, exhausted. My shoulder ached, and dozens of planned activities flooded my tired mind. The need for accelerator drugs was awakening again, rising to a point where I had to check that my hands weren’t shaking.
Perhaps it was the worry. I had gone into battle today sure of my strength and capabilities, yet almost died to an enemy I couldn’t completely understand. Armor, even stolen from the Raiders on my first day, should have been sufficient protection from whatever I was meant to face, yet failed miserably against the Shadow’s very first hit. My sword, seemingly advanced, powerful technology with no counterpart in my time, was but a delay to Shade’s ruthless attacks.
I fought, I bled, and, in the end, I learned.
I needed armor that could handle the vast piercing power of the Shade. I needed it to provide the speed and strength to match that of the Beast. And, most importantly, I needed a weapon that could harm the seemingly immaterial enemy.
Otherwise, I would have to tear them apart with my bare hands.
All this could be bought. Rarus had the gear required to take on a Shadow and then some, so high-Class armor and weapons were the obvious solution. But how much would it cost? How would I earn that money? Was I willing to commit to Beast extermination as a profession?
As another option formed in my mind, I realized that I could never commit myself to career fighting. I would have to struggle to survive, and I would have to do the fighting myself now that my brother was gone, but I had no reason to specialize in killing. It was not what my heart was in. And I would never feel comfortable accepting equipment off the shelf of a store. I could never trust someone else’s sword.
If I was going to hold a weapon in place of my brother, it would be a weapon of my making.
I suppressed the swarming thoughts, forcing a state of meditation in their place, letting the mind rest along with the body. Despite the crowds, I could not help but stare at the small park, full of sights I had not seen for many years before my death.
This was truly a beautiful plaza of some age, with tall, green trees and lush grass. There was more green than I had ever seen in my life. I melted into the bench, exhausted and battered. The town was large enough that a light breeze travele
d under its environmental dome, making the trees rustle, drowning out the crowd’s noise.
I sat in the shade like that for a time, eyes closed, planning to rest for a few minutes before heading home. Instead, I got a capital dose of political drama, and a colorful ending to my adventure-filled day.
“HEY! BITCH!”
Hello to you too, you rude fucking bastard.
Slowly, carefully, I turned towards the commotion. The bench was facing the main plaza at an awkward angle, and I was forced to partially rotate and stand to look over the crowds.
A line of heavily armed and armored creatures, all Class 4 and up at a glance, marched at a lone figure in the crowd. The crowd, in turn, was only glad to spread and make way for the excitement, revealing the target of the primitive insult.
The gear was of definite female form. A thick, plated, and clearly powered suit of purple-black armor managed to keep the user’s tall, shapely form. Most of the suit’s heavier internals collected on the hips and shoulders, managing not to disbalance the Human proportions with their necessary mass. The entire gear set was smooth and masterfully made, with no exposed Gems or Gem Dust. Hidden under armor plates the Gems highlighted joints with a threatening purple glow. A beautiful golden-white star decorated each plated shoulder. The helmet had no faceplate, but an armored, featureless front. That head turned, slowly, at the approaching line.
A total of twenty melee-equipped fighters formed a semi-circle around what was either a Human woman or a Slime imitating the form.
“Hey elite!” One could have made air quotes to match that despicable tone. “You think you’re tough? You think you are better than others?”
The form remained motionless.
“You are a mistake!” I realized that the speaker, a hippy-looking man with a small beard, was talking to the crowd rather than to the target. Lovely. “No one is better than anyone else! Everyone is equal! You are worse than everyone else by claiming to be the best! Just because you are Human…”
Fanatics! I realized, gawking in awe. A cult was all this world was missing! Some sort of political faction for radical equality! The woman was clearly a strong fighter, but the group outnumbered her to a point where Class may not save her.
“…whores like you bring down the best of us…”
I leaned back, stretching my legs and preparing to enjoy the fight, and was suddenly shocked by my own actions. I imagined the pure disgust and disapproval my brother would have had for such inaction. To sit back while an innocent was attacked - that was against my brother’s very essence.
I sat up straight. The assholes had a good chance at defeating a loner, and no one in the crowd looked like they were going to move and silence the droning fanatic. Everyone just watched, exactly as I was planning to.
My brother would already be tearing through the asshats, I knew. Then he would break my arms for failing to act with decency, too. And he would be right.
Perhaps equally as bad, it was not what Fall would have done.
But what could I do? Each one outclassed me, and there were just under two dozen of them.
Who, pray the fuck tell, do I have?
What a convenient thought. Yesterday, while visiting the shopping district, I picked up a free sample of a combat booster. I retrieved the black pill from my pocket, forced myself not to comprehend what I was doing, and swallowed it. The inevitability of the upcoming power surge put me into cold focus. Anticipating the usual adrenalin boost of combat drugs I stood tall and spread my shoulders wide, stepping into my favorite combat stance. Like an idiot, I drew my remaining sword, and marched to my doom.
Day three of living in the future - nearly die in a hunt, then try and die again saving a stranger. Bright ideas, Drake!
“…TRAITOR OF CIVILIZATION! I CANNOT LET A BITCH LIKE YOU CONTINUE TO LAUGH AT THE NOBILITY OF EQUALITY AND THINK YOURSELF STRONGER!” The screaming speaker ripped off a glove, throwing it at the lone woman’s faceless helmet. The enigmatic warrior shifted gracefully, dodging the glove.
Then again, another death would not be so bad if people like this suffer.
Yes please!
The effect was not what I thought it would be. The world slowed. I could see the glove, flopping through the air, and I reached out to catch it. The twenty meters to the glove disappeared, and the challenge landed in my hand. Whereas before she seemed to move with slowed grace, I could now see the victim of the challenge perfectly tracking me with her head, despite my absurd speed.
A feeling of power ticked at the back of my mind as I headed past the woman at the speaker. Everything was slow, the speaker’s words drawn out, my own steps taking too long for comfort. This was not a chemical booster, that I now knew.
Passing the subject of the discussion I reached back and flung the glove back at the speaker. The throw came with incredible force, and the fanatic stumbled back at the slap. Something in my arm ripped and the exosuit frame screeched, servos unprepared to accommodate my motion.
A pain ripped through my stomach, and I doubled over. Blood erupted from my mouth, the agony lasting all of one second. In its place came the cold.
I could see everything. The entire crowd gathered around us, including those directly behind me, were drawn in my mind as if I were looking at them.
And in that moment I knew great surprise and disappointment in myself. In the faces of the crowd I saw anger, slowly being replaced with pride. In their hands I saw weapons slowly returning to slings and holsters. Each of the hundreds gathered in the plaza had intent and violence gathering in their eyes.
Each and every single one of them was preparing for attack, gathering not to watch a spectacle as I originally thought, but to assist the lone warrior against her assailants.
I had stepped in to do what I thought no one else would, only to realize that I was doing the work each of them would have gladly done in my place.
Straightening once more, blood dripping down my chestplate, I grinned at the twenty beings, all still unaware that they were surrounded.
“Traitors.”
The fanatics were drawing weapons, slowly. There were too many of them, and they were too strong. Their forms ignited with Gold as my Fall Coefficient awoke.
I am immortal, I am absolute, I am unstoppable, for I am what I do, and what I do is done perfectly.
“TRAITORS!” The nanites in my throat reinforced the vocal cords, and the roar came out at an inhuman volume. Adrenalin pumped out by my natural body began to flood my mind.
Too far away. I need to be closer.
Yes. Yes I am.
Realization turned to fact. I was several seconds and meters ahead, punching the stunned speaker. My fist cracked, skin and bone ripping, but I punched through his light chestpiece. Grabbing an exposed rib with broken fingers, I yanked, flinging the leader behind me. His suit sparked, shattered servos and ripped wires creating a trail of smoke as he flew.
The hand refused to behave properly now. That will need fixing.
I felt the nanites in my blood multiplying in number, consuming my body to keep up production. A large portion went up my broken arm, already swinging at the next man. The hand, now engulfed in black smoke, squeezed around his neck, crushing and decapitating the bastard. Every excruciating detail was highlighted by gold, visually informing me of every bone and artery I damaged, highlighting which strike would deal the most hurt onto my enemy.
The Cockroach behind me was starting to raise an axe. I stepped back, drawing the sword from my left hip and swinging right. Two halves of the being were left to fall in delay.
Five more died in the six seconds before the remaining twelve were able to draw weapons. Two more had daggers in them.
No consideration for the enemy.
Easily sides
tepping an attack, I cut off a pair of arms.
No disgust for the blood and gore.
Two Cockroaches charged me from both directions, their twin axes simultaneously rising and falling. The dagger sticking out of their chests slowed them down. Before the weapons struck the ground, I cut both in half. The strike broke a meter off my sword, and I dropped it remaining chunk.
No thoughts beyond the intent to kill, and the best strategy for it.
Three men in high-Class gear, maybe Class 5 each, teleported around me, weapons already falling and striking. It was impossible to escape, so I stepped into a piercing blow, letting the spear impale me. Realizing that I did not have to allow it to damage me, I phased my torso, allowing the spear to occupy the same space as my guts, but not interact. More of my body was consumed, turned into energy to fuel the action. The man holding it died in two blows to the head, and I flexed the nanites and muscles in my torso, snapping the spear inside me, and ripping the two halves out. Turning, I flung the sharp half into the nearest Class 5. He managed to teleport to the side, but the Cockroach behind him was thrown off the ground, a hole decorating its chest.
A sword fell onto me, and I blocked it with my arm, letting the blade bury into the otherwise useless powered skeletal frame. Jabbing under, I impaled the attacker, only to feel another spear rammed into where my heart was meant to be.
No pain is necessary.
Six hostiles.
I cursed myself for wasting almost half of the time granted to me. My hands were too damaged for me to use them, so I tried to bite the arm off.
A Human jaw should never do what mine did that day. The suddenly sharp, long teeth of gray, swarming nanite bit through the armor, skin, muscle and bone without effort. The four weakest survivors died running, the attacks reinforcing my new, oversized jaw as the nanites settled in. The new biomass was quickly burned up, giving me negligible boosts of lifetime.
