Warden 3

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Warden 3 Page 15

by Isaac Hooke


  15

  Rhea sat in the passenger seat of the SUV; Will and the others had returned to their previous positions, while Jairlin and his team sped alongside in the second SUV. The technicals kept pace all around them.

  She glanced at the righthand rear-view mirror. So far, the rock cobras hadn’t emerged from the highlands to pursue, but even if they had, the plodding creatures wouldn’t have been able to keep pace with the vehicles.

  Gizmo led the way ahead, traveling at an altitude well above the visual range of the enemy. The convoy was gradually overtaking the slower semi.

  “What do you think they’re carrying in that trailer?” Will asked.

  “Probably her belongings,” Rhea said. “Or her quarters. A crime lord as powerful as Veil would want to bring some of the city’s luxury with her whenever she visited her men in the Outlands. I somehow doubt she’d be familiar with the term ‘roughing it.’”

  “But why not stick to virtual furniture?” Will said.

  “Why don’t the rich ever stick to virtual furniture?” Rhea replied. “Because they don’t have to. The real thing affords them bragging rights.”

  “Human hierarchical behavior and its associated hoarding can be so very wasteful,” Horatio commented.

  “Not as wasteful as building sentient machines,” Will replied.

  Horatio had nothing to say to that.

  “If Veil was smart,” Miles said into the silence. “She’d simply jettison that trailer.”

  “She probably will,” Rhea said. “Though I doubt it will give her that much of a speed advantage. Probably buy her a few more minutes before her doom, and that’s it.”

  “Personally, I think the trailer harbors some sort of missile launcher,” Brinks said. “Maybe a nuke.”

  Miles chuckled. “I seriously doubt it.”

  “Guess we’ll see,” Brinks told the Wardenite. “When you’re staring down the business end of an incoming missile, I promise not to say, ‘I told you so.’”

  When the convoy approached to within the maximum range of the plasma turrets, Rhea gave the order for the technicals to begin bombarding the target. Because of the range, the semi-trailer had plenty of time to swerve out of the way.

  “There’s something to be said about the near instantaneous transmission of a laser to its target,” Will said. “Once a laser is within range, it’s impossible to dodge. Whose bright idea was it to equip the technicals with plasma turrets rather than laser cannons?”

  “Not mine,” Miles replied.

  “Have the technicals hold their fire until we’re closer,” Rhea said, her voice calm, methodical. “Five hundred kilometers away. Then I want them to coordinate their fire. Target the left, right, and central positions all at the same time. Make it so that no matter where Veil swerves, a plasma bolt will be waiting to greet her.”

  “When you get like this, you scare me,” Will told her. “All cold and ruthless.”

  “Probably my old self coming through,” Rhea said.

  “Then I’m glad I never met your old self,” he commented.

  “Don’t worry, you might meet her yet,” she taunted.

  Will glanced at Horatio in the back seat. “I’m not looking forward to the day.”

  “I rather enjoy it when she becomes this way,” Horatio said. “Bloodthirsty. Heartless. It’s an interesting case study in the dual, conflicted nature of humanity. A case study for why a robot should never aspire to be a human.”

  “You’re not helping,” Rhea told the robot.

  “Am I distracting you from what comes?” Horatio asked.

  “Not really,” Rhea replied.

  “Then you’re right, I’m not helping,” the robot said. “I will proceed to deactivate my vocalization subroutines.”

  “You do that, Tin Bucket,” Miles said.

  Horatio cocked that polycarbonate head. “You’re lucky you’re an albino.”

  Miles’ brows drew together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Because I wouldn’t let any of the others get away with saying something like that,” Horatio explained.

  “The heck you talking about?” Miles said. “You a prejudiced, racist robot or something?”

  “You’re the one who called me Tin Bucket…” Horatio said.

  Will spun around. “Like Rhea said, you’re not helping.” Will ran a finger across his lips. “Zip it.”

  “I was trying to, but he—” Horatio started.

  Will made the zipping gesture again, and Horatio remained silent. Will glanced at Miles. “You too, Albino.”

  Miles glowered, but kept his mouth shut.

  The convoy continued to close. But before they were within the optimal firing range Rhea desired, the semi jettisoned its load.

  The trailer quickly ground to a halt, its front end missing wheels of any kind.

  Free of its burden, the main vehicle sped up, but not by a large margin.

  “The semi is still going slower than we are,” Will said. “Within an hour, we’ll reach the requested firing range.”

  “Then we have time for a quick detour,” Rhea said.

  Will gave her a curious glance. “You think Veil is hiding in the trailer?”

  “We’d be remiss if we didn’t check,” Rhea told him.

  “What if it’s rigged to blow?” Will asked.

  Jairlin, who was listening in over the comm, spoke: “My team will check it out. You guys stay back, watch remotely.”

  “Too bad we don’t have more robots with us,” Miles said. “They’d be perfect for this.”

  “Hey!” Horatio told the albino. “Robots are not expendable.”

  Miles snorted. “Says the robot.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll melt the doors with our plasma rifles,” Jairlin transmitted. “We’ll keep our distance in case she’s rigged.”

  Horatio leaned toward her. “If you do want to send someone in, I suggest the rest of us approaching no further than one kilometer. If there’s a bomb aboard, even that range might not be enough to save us.”

  Rhea considered. “Actually, I think I’d prefer a two-kilometer berth.” Via her overhead map, she plotted a course around the trailer, and sent it to Will. “We keep going along this route.”

  “You got it,” Will said.

  The SUVs and their technical escorts altered course a moment later to follow the trajectory she’d plotted.

  “I want one of the technicals to break away,” Rhea said. “Have it proceed to within two hundred meters and blast open the doors. Recall Gizmo: the drone will be our eyes.”

  “As usual, treating the robots as disposable…” Horatio said.

  She glanced at Horatio. “Sorry, my friend.”

  “It’s okay,” Horatio said. “I understand. You’re going to put the lives of humans and cyborgs above that of robots. It’s only natural.”

  Rhea didn’t have an answer to that.

  One of the technicals broke away and raced across the rocky plains toward the target. As it got closer, Rhea kept expecting the trailer to detonate, enveloping the plains and the incoming technical in a massive explosion.

  But that didn’t happen.

  The technical halted two hundred meters out and released a test plasma bolt. The blast smashed into the barn doors at the rear of the trailer, causing a red-hot circle to appear, but it didn’t otherwise penetrate.

  “Thick armor,” Will commented.

  The technical released several more shots and in moments had melted through; the molten remains of the doors dripped from their hinges to the rocky ground below. The trailer wasn’t rigged to blow after all. At least not yet.

  “Will?” Rhea said. “Gizmo.”

  The drone scout had been hovering at the ready above the site, and it swooped down then. Rhea tapped into the remote video feed.

  The trailer did indeed harbor Veil’s quarters. There was a luxurious bed, with silk curtains hanging from the ceiling around it. Paintings and tapestries hung from the walls, dep
icting the black-robed Veil in various poses of victory, usually standing over the corpse of some defeated opponent: usually men or cyborgs. There was often a large number written underneath. Rhea guess that was the bounty paid for the kill.

  Rhea swore she wasn’t going to allow her own portrait to be added to these walls.

  “A missile launcher or nuke, huh?” Miles taunted Brinks.

  “Hey, it seemed plausible at the time,” Brinks said.

  “Are those paintings supposed to be bounty kills?” Miles asked.

  “I think so,” Brinks said.

  “I wonder if there’s anything on the augmented reality band,” Miles said.

  Rhea didn’t care. She’d seen enough.

  “Recall the technical,” Rhea said. “And have Gizmo return to its previous pursuit altitude.”

  “Should we change course, head directly toward the target?” Will asked.

  “No,” Rhea said. “I think it’s safer to take this roundabout path until we’re clear of the trailer.”

  The SUVs continued on the path she had plotted and then finally swerved back onto a direct pursuit course. The technical she’d dispatched to the trailer rejoined the convoy momentarily.

  “The semi is turning westward,” Will announced. “Doubling back toward the highlands.”

  Rhea tapped her chin. “What game is she playing?” She paused. “Follow.”

  The convoy pursued.

  After several moments, Rhea could see the outermost hills of the highlands on the horizon ahead.

  “Target is swerving again,” Will said.

  “Look,” Miles said.

  Rhea followed his gaze. Miles was looking due south. Lurking on the horizon, directly in the path of the semi, were several small, greenish smears.

  “Bioweapons,” Horatio said.

  Rhea zoomed in. She observed large, avian bodies, covered in green feathers and at rest upon the plains. Their large, tusked heads were vaguely anvil-like, with long, drooping antennae, and insectile eyes gazing out upon the world from underneath thick plates. They had toothless suckers for mouths.

  Tasins.

  The creatures were beginning to perk up as the semi approached. Their antennae straightened, and one by one they turned their heads toward the incoming vehicle. When they spotted it, their sucker mouths dripped acid eagerly. Some stood up, revealing the four thin, bony feet that supported them: the toes were tipped with half-moon talons bigger than scythes.

  “Veil is insane,” Will said.

  “Either that, or ingenious,” Miles said. “She’s knows we’re not going to follow.” He glanced at Rhea nervously. “We’re not, right?”

  She glanced at the overhead map. Gizmo had mapped out the whole herd. They were spread out across the plains over an area of one square kilometer.

  “I have no intention of traveling into the pod,” Rhea said. “Veil wants to be stupid, it’s up to her. I’m plotting a course around the pod. We’ll intercept her somewhere on the other side. Assuming she survives.”

  She laid out the course on her HUD, and the vehicles altered course to give the pod ample breathing room.

  Meanwhile, Veil’s semi headed directly for the creatures.

  All of the Tasins were standing by then. They jockeyed amongst themselves for position, eager to accept the obvious challenge posed by the incoming vehicle and vying to be among the first to take it on. Three bulls outcompeted all the others, shoving the smaller pod members aside so that they stood in the forefront.

  Rhea watched as the semi approached the three without slowing.

  The Tasins were shivering in anticipation of what they evidently thought was going to be an easy kill. After all, the semi was so much smaller than most of them, especially the bulls, who towered over it like dinosaurs.

  And then, when the semi was almost a hundred meters out from the foremost members of the pod, the lead bull lunged forward. The sucker slammed downward, but the semi managed to swerve out of the way.

  The bull swiped at it with a foot, raking those talons into the metal exterior and flipping the vehicle onto its side. Before the semi struck the ground, several harpoons shot out from the vehicle’s left flank, and stabbed the huge bull in the upper back.

  The Tasin roared in pain, a stentorian sound that carried across the plains. The semi rapidly reeled in the cords connected to the harpoons, which caused the vehicle to be carried into the air. In seconds it plunged into the feathers of the bull’s upper back, causing the Tasin to bellow once more. The semi remained glued there, attached firmly to the Tasin’s upper back.

  The huge creature kept fidgeting, trying to slough away the parasite: it couldn’t quite reach the semi with its acid-dripping maw, so it resorted to repeatedly clawing at the vehicle and smashing its body into the ground, all to no avail. Other Tasins tried to rip the semi away as well, but Veil was apparently wary of those acid-dripping suckers, because whenever another Tasin’s mouth got too close, the offending bioweapon was met with a faceful of plasma fire from the passenger or driver sides. Eventually the other Tasins got the hint and left the semi alone.

  The bull continued to occasionally molest the unwanted passenger with its claws but appeared resigned to the fact that it would be carrying a stowaway, at least for a while.

  “Well,” Brinks said. “This is interesting.”

  “I’ve seen vehicles like these before,” Miles said. “They’re designed for hunting the smaller bioweapons, and meant to take down prey without inflicting too much bodily damage—you know, so they have more parts to sell on the exotics markets in the Far East. Anyway, the vehicles can shoot harpoons from the fore and flanks, which embed in their prey. The stricken bioweapon usually flees, dragging the vehicle with it, and eventually the prey run themselves to death. Never quite heard of the harpoons used in this way, though.”

  “Like I said, insane,” Will commented.

  “She’s taunting us,” Rhea said. “Telling us: if we want her, to come get her.”

  “We’re going to wait her out, of course,” Brinks said. “We’re not crazy enough to approach the pod, are we?”

  Rhea didn’t answer.

  “Crap,” Brinks said.

  “The plasma turrets on the technicals are more than enough to keep them at bay,” Rhea said.

  “Yeah, except there are so damn many of them,” Will complained.

  “If you don’t want to come, I’ll understand,” Rhea said. She transmitted over the main comm band so that all the Wardenites could hear. “I’ll have one of the technicals stay behind. You can board it.”

  “Oh, no one said anything about not coming,” Will told her.

  “And the rest of you?” Rhea glanced toward the back seat; the Wardenites nodded their heads.

  “We’re in,” Jairlin transmitted. “We’ve come this far…”

  “We’re not about to abandon you now,” Miles agreed.

  Rhea sighed softly. A part of her had been hoping they would accept her proposal and stay behind, because it meant she wouldn’t have to protect them all.

  “Have the convoy set a course for the bull,” she said.

  The vehicles changed directions and cut across the plains to head directly for the bull that harbored Veil’s semi.

  “What’s the plan?” Will asked. “We shoot down that bull, and keep firing until we surgically remove the vehicle from its back?”

  “Something like that,” Rhea said.

  The pod members were perking up, and they began turning toward these latest newcomers. Once more their suckers dripped acid in anticipation.

  She fetched her pistol and leaned out the passenger window.

  “Shoot them in the mouth,” Rhea sent.

  16

  As the convoy got closer, Rhea noted that the Tasin carrying Veil’s semi had retreated to the center of the pod, apparently fearing it might acquire yet another parasite. It had placed several other bioweapons between itself and the convoy.

  “Fire,” Rhea said.
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br />   The technicals pulled ahead and opened fire; plasma bolts slammed into bioweapons in the forefront. The stricken creatures backed away, screaming in pain.

  The technicals continued to shoot at the Tasins, but the pod was huge, and it seemed like there was always another creature dashing forth to replace any that fell.

  “Stop!” Rhea said when they were about a hundred meters from the enemy line. “Back up!”

  The convoy came to a halt and backed away. The technicals continued to fire as the pod gave chase. Rhea joined in, as did the other Wardenites, leaning from the windows of the SUV.

  One of the technicals was too close to the enemy line, and it was flipped onto its side when a creature swiped at it.

  A bull led the charge.

  Rhea aimed her pistol at its sickening mouth and fired several shots in rapid succession. The bull swung its head to and fro, as if trying to shake off the blow, but continued running. It was fast catching up with the retreating convoy and would soon overtake them.

  “Have the technicals concentrate fire on the mouth of the bull!” Rhea sent.

  The technicals bombarded the bull. Plasma bolts ripped into its face, and the creature slowed, coming to a halt as the others passed it. When they plasma fire stopped, it was to reveal a bloody, gaping hole in its face. The creature collapsed and didn’t get up.

  As the convoy continued to retreat, she had the technicals concentrate their fire on different Tasins in the forefront that were getting too close. A good seventy-five percent of the pod was giving chase. The other twenty-five percent remained behind: the bull with the semi strapped to it was among them.

  As she watched, the semi released its harpoons and dropped to the ground. It drove through the smaller group of bioweapons—plasma fire erupted from the cabin now and then to keep the creatures at bay. In seconds it burst through their ranks and raced away west. A few Tasins pursued, but quickly gave up the chase when they received plasma blasts to the face.

  “Keep firing,” Rhea ordered. “But turn us around! Head west!”

  The vehicles spun around, front ends drifting over the rocky terrain. Then they accelerated, swerving away from the incoming Tasins to pursue Veil once more. The plasma turrets in the technicals swiveled so as to remain trained upon the bioweapons the whole time, or tried to anyway: there were too many of the creatures to track, and because the convoy had slowed slightly during the directional reversal, a couple of Tasins got a bit too close. Three more technicals were crumpled. Another Tasin almost got a fourth technical, but Rhea, still leaning out of her window, targeted its main sucker with her pistol, and managed to repel it.

 

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