At Circle's End

Home > Other > At Circle's End > Page 12
At Circle's End Page 12

by Ian J. Malone


  “Pretty close.” He cocked his head. “Although, if memory serves, Link would have referenced his penis at least three times by now.”

  Katie snickered. “Look at him now, married with kids and all grown up.”

  Link put his rifle between his legs and began spooning the weapon.

  “Okay, so maybe just married with kids.”

  Reiser keyed something into his tablet then made a swiping motion with his fingers toward the monitor behind the table. It flickered, and a topographical map of the surrounding area appeared. “Everyone, gather round please.”

  Danny fell in line with Lee, but it was Link who spoke first.

  “So, Dr. Reiser, what’s the plan? We gonna shoot around out here in the yard for a while until Danny caves then go drink some of Hamish’s crap beer, or what?”

  “What?” Hamish looked wounded. “Crap beer? Are ye out of yer mind? That’s some of muh finest ale.”

  Link recoiled with a bitter-beer face. “Dude, no offense, but it’s like drinking a frickin’ spruce tree. Seriously, lay off the hops from time to time.”

  “I’ll have ye know, ya stumpy wee bastard, that I’ve got distributors on eight worlds now. So apparently someone likes it.”

  Link hocked a loogie onto the dirt. “Whatever. It’s still Christmas piss.”

  “What if I kick yer—”

  “Gentlemen, we do have a drill here, remember?” Reiser drummed his fingers on the edge of his tablet.

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” Hamish shot Link final glare. He got an eye roll back.

  “For the purposes of today’s exercise, we’re keeping things simple,” Reiser said. “This is an easy game of ‘last man standing.’ Lee, you and your people will have full run of the open yard. The northeast airfield, the hillside, the quad.” He pointed to the urban warfare training facility just south of their position. “It’s all free to use. Once you’re away, Danny’s job will be to find you and eliminate you from contention before he’s eliminated first.”

  “Four on one.” Link grinned. “Super armor or not, I like those odds.”

  “Oh, were I a betting man,” Doc murmured from behind his tablet.

  Mac pointed to the table of weapons. “Are these the only resources we’ll have, or are there more out in the field?”

  “There are more, especially in the quad,” Reiser said. “Everything is fair game. Vehicles, weapons, the kitchen sink if you can pull it free of the galley. It’s all yours.”

  She nodded.

  “Any other questions?”

  Lee raised a hand. “I presume we’re not workin’ with live fire, right?”

  Reiser shook his head then picked up one of the rifles and pointed to its orange tip. “Your weapons have been modified for the purposes of training just as they were before. Please note, however, that all of it will still respond as if this were a real situation. That means the weapons do fire, albeit with blanks, and they’ll also register damage via the onboard sensor array should they incur any. All of it will be monitored, along with your vitals and camera feeds, from here in the observation tent.”

  “How’s that work with me?” Danny asked. “I’m not carrying an Auran weapon, nor am I wearing ASC tac gear with a surveillance rig.”

  Doc fielded that question. “Remy and I have created a wireless signal between your HUD and Jon’s equipment. We’ll be able to see everything you do in real time just like everyone else. We’ve also disabled your ordnance inventory, so while all of your systems will still perform under combat conditions—case in point, your Harbinger-XL will still fire—you won’t physically be throwing any projectiles.”

  “So, paint the target, and we’re good,” Danny summarized.

  “Precisely,” Doc said.

  His briefing concluded, Reiser deactivated the screen and addressed the others. “Last chance to ask questions.”

  No one obliged.

  “All right, then.” Lee clapped his hands. “Let’s get this train roll—”

  “Just a moment.” Reiser hobbled back into the tent and returned with a handcart. He parked it in front of Lee and pointed to the cardboard box on the top rack. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

  Lee shrugged and flipped the lid open. His eyes went wide. “Nice!”

  “Whatcha got there, babe?” Mac asked.

  Lee turned around and allowed the garment in his hand to drop open. It was a standard-issue ASC uniform blouse, though it was the shirt’s camo pattern that caught everyone’s attention.

  “Dude, is that digital tigerstripe?” Danny scratched his whiskers. “Man, I haven’t seen a set of those in ages.”

  “Not since our Myrick mission to get Mac, no. Hey, speakin’ of—” Lee tapped his sidearm. “Don’t make me use this later.”

  “Please.” Danny scoffed. “Turn that little peashooter on me in the field, and see what happens.”

  Mac stepped between them. “Easy boys. Put the swords away, and save it for the drill.”

  “Uh, lads?” Hamish pulled another blouse from the box and directed everyone to the patch on the right sleeve.

  No one said a word, but every single one of them—even Danny—smiled.

  The golden insignia—a classic, shield-shaped crest with a battle-worn surface—was split down its center by a brilliant flaming spear and capped with a garnet banner housing an all-too-familiar mantra, “Renegades: Never Divided.”

  “I took the liberty of digging the design from the archives,” Reiser said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Lee put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s fantastic, Jon. Thanks.”

  Reiser sloughed off the compliment. “You mentioned nostalgia earlier. Well, given the events of the last year, I thought a little nostalgia might do us all some good.”

  “Damn straight.” Link shoved past Hamish and plowed hands-first into the box. “Now, stop hoarding the swag, losers, and show me where I can suit up to start kicking Crockett’s ass.”

  “Only in your dreams, midget,” Danny said.

  “Renegades.” Reiser pointed to the changing tent next door. “You are dismissed.”

  As the others danced away with their uniforms, Danny was a touch disappointed that he wouldn’t get to wear one. Alas, he had an outfit of his own, and it was time to get into it. He followed Reiser, Katie, and Doc back into the observation tent.

  “You ready to do this?” Katie asked, Mr. Black looming in wait behind her.

  “Sure, why not?” Danny stripped off his clothes and plugged his comm piece into his ear. “Promises to be entertaining if nothing else.”

  She slugged his arm. “There’s the Danny I remember. Take your mark, and let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Danny turned his bare back to the armor then took a knee in front of it. He started into his breathing. “Awake.”

  The high-pitched electric whine of servos and gears sounded as Mr. Black’s secondary systems activated. It shuddered—matching trails of oxygen streaming from its helmet—then rose up onto its haunches as the low thrum of turbines reverberated through the tent. Mr. Black’s primaries were now online.

  Danny closed his eyes and proceeded with the final voice command of the sequence. “Operator reports ready. Initiate Bridge Sync.”

  The massive machine complied and knelt down over Danny, planting its fists to the pavement on each side of him. Its chest cavity already open, it leaned in and enveloped its operator as if taking him in an embrace.

  The world still black around him, Danny listened while the cocoon sealed shut—its fleshy interior, warm and wet, molding to his body—then felt the familiar pinch of the interface, followed by the initial discomfort of the juice coursing through his spine.

  The joining sequence complete, Danny opened his eyes to the rainbow-colored world around him as seen through his HUD.

  “Bridge Sync Complete,” Mr. Black announced in Danny’s central vision. “Integrity at one hundred percent.”

  Katie leaned up on her toes to knock on his chest.
“Danny, you with me in there?”

  “Right here.”

  She jumped when Danny’s voice, low and digitized, boomed through the armor’s speakers.

  “Easy, Scragly.” Danny laughed. “It’s still me.”

  Katie shot him a smirk then picked up her tablet.

  “Mr. Black is online and operating within normal parameters,” Doc said from his station in the corner. “You’re clear to move out.”

  Danny stepped past Katie for the exit and started running down his instruments. HUD’s online. Fire controls are green. O2 looks good. He chinned his comm. “Everything checks out on my end, Doc. You good on yours?”

  “We’re reading you fine, Danny,” the old man answered in his ear. “I’ve got your vitals, your HUD telemetry, and your helmet view right here in front of me.”

  Danny nodded. “Lee and the others check in yet?”

  “Just now,” Doc said. “They’re in position and standing by to start the drill. You may proceed when ready.”

  “Copy that.” Danny checked off the last of his readings. “Hey, just for grins and giggles, what are the odds we’ve got a community channel for this?”

  “With you guys?” Katie laughed. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “Point taken,” Danny said. “Gimme gimme.”

  “Channel Ten. Have fun.”

  Danny chinned the tuner button next to his comm key. “Daredevil, this is Mr. Bl—” He paused and considered. Aw, what the hell. When in Rome…“Daredevil, this is Hurricane. You got your ears on?”

  Static crackled.

  “Good to have you back, Hurricane,” Lee answered. “Go ahead.”

  “Feels like old times, huh? Me, you, Mac, and the gang, all spread out over different locations, taking potshots at each other with simulated weapons?”

  Lee chuckled. “Throw in a couple bags of Funyuns plus a sixer of High Life, and you’ve got an old-school Renegades Friday night.”

  Danny grimaced and spun up his fire controls to bring the Harbinger online. “Man, we have got to talk about your taste in booze. I’d just as soon drink Hamish’s swill as that crap.”

  “For the love!” Hamish said. “It’s good bloody brew, that! Go poll a few of muh customers at the Shell, and you’ll see!”

  “Don’t take it personally, Wulver,” Katie said. “If Hurricane and I ever had anything in common, it was that neither of us was ever really a beer fan. For what it’s worth, though, I’d drink your stuff…if I had to.”

  “Thank ye, love,” Hamish said.

  “Hey, bartender?” Danny keyed his HUD and began mapping the surrounding area into combat zones. “You care to weigh in on this little debate?”

  Mac clicked her tongue. “Sorry, kids, but I am so not getting dragged into the middle of this. I’m just not.”

  Danny flexed his massive fingers. “Aw, come on, Northern Star. Surely you’ve—”

  “Yo, slap nuts!” Link cut in. “Are we gonna stand around here smacking each other on the ass cheeks all day, or are we gonna throw down like men and do this?”

  “Ahem.” Mac coughed.

  “Like people—whatever,” Link amended.

  “Thank you,” Katie said.

  Danny spun up his fire controls and brought his XL online. “Daredevil, you ready to do this?”

  “Waitin’ on you, Miami. Waitin’ on you.”

  Danny grinned under his mask. Look at Big Country getting a little spicy. With that, he reached out with his mind and took hold of Mr. Black in all of his fully armored might. “On my way.”

  Trotting across the open field, Danny scanned the immediate hillside on his way south toward the quad. He doubted many of them would’ve taken the time to go too far up that way. Still, if anybody did, it would’ve been Link—sniper’s high ground and all. View IR and zoom to thirty-eight point three percent.

  Mr. Black complied and switched his view from standard to infrared, thereby allowing Danny a better view of the hillside. Nothing but wildlife. He saw birds and ground animals, even a Caldarian bush monkey swinging from the river brush toward a quarry of hot springs to the west. No human-life signs, though.

  A shot rang out, and Danny turned to see a utility truck peel off in a cloud of dust, headed for the quad. Zoom to forty-eight point six percent. A petite, multicolored figure was at the wheel. Nice cheap shot, Mac.

  “Mr. Black, I presume you’re good?” Doc asked on Channel Nine.

  Danny checked his armor integrity in the HUD. “Yeah, Doc, I’m fine. She was too far out.”

  “I think she’s trying to lure you in,” Doc said.

  Danny beetled an eyebrow. “Astute observation there, Stonewall.”

  “Stone what?” Doc asked.

  “Never mind.” Firing up the turbines in his legs, Danny accelerated toward the quad, closing the two-hundred-meter gap between him and it in just under twelve seconds. He crossed in between two ramshackle structures and skidded to a halt in the street on their far side. View Standard.

  The quad had been built to resemble an old warehouse district. Covered in a grid of rundown structures, ancient storage bunkers, and rotting steel buildings—all separated by the occasional dwelling, courtyard, or commerce plaza—the setting wasn’t entirely unlike the slums of Detron City to which he’d become accustomed.

  Gotta love a home-field advantage. Danny panned his surroundings, his targeting system pinging any potential threats as it went, and found the truck parked just down the block to the north. No Mac, though. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  Danny entered the alley across the street and traversed another set of buildings before emerging into one of the courtyards. Still nothing.

  Another shot rang out, and Danny lunged in response.

  “Strike to mid-right torso,” Mr. Black said. “Damage negligible.”

  Danny’s eyes darted in search of a source. “All right, damn it. Drop the ninja act already, and let’s get down to it.”

  “Nah,” Mac said in his earpiece. “Ninja act’s way more fun.”

  Danny muttered another curse. No sooner had he done so than his HUD yelped again, this time igniting in a hard spike of red as an opposing Harbinger sang to life from somewhere behind him.

  Danny whirled and saw Hamish duck into a nearby warehouse, the barrel of his weapon spinning like a top in his hands.

  Danny threw up his own railgun to retaliate, but Hamish was already gone.

  “You always were shite at watching your six, lad,” the Scot said from somewhere out of sight.

  Annoyance sank in when they began laughing at him. I hate being toyed with. “I’m glad you’re all enjoying yourselves.”

  “Hey, Daredevil?” Mac asked. “Is it just me, or does this feel a lot like Environment Thirty-One from the game back home?”

  Okay, so Lee’s around. Danny made a note.

  “Yes, ma’am; it sure does,” Lee answered. “That was the desert planet, right? The one where ol’ Hurricane walked straight into that world-famous headshot of mine?”

  “Good times,” Mac said, “the splatter notwithstanding.”

  Even Hamish made a crack.

  Looks like it’s a hit-and-run kind of day. Fine, I’ll play. Danny switched back to IR and scanned the warehouse. It was empty, as expected, meaning Hamish had already cleared out. Danny shifted to the next structure over and spied a round, multicolored figure perched just inside its entrance. Peekaboo. He cued up the launcher on his left shoulder and raised the XL. “See ya, big dog.” The latter spun to life, sending the rainbow-colored man sprinting for the side exit. Fire.

  There was no explosion, of course, since no grenade was physically launched. However, the angry shout of “Chicken-shite rubbish!” in Danny’s ear was cause enough for happiness.

  “Pretty sure that’s a kill shot, Wulver. Good night, and drive safely.”

  Hamish cursed aloud.

  “Hurricane is correct,” Reiser agreed. “In the interests of maximizing our data during this
drill, though, we’ll give Wulver a pass to stay in.”

  “Suit yourself.” Figuring a change in strategy might be in order, Danny sprinted through the courtyard and back into the confines of another alley. He followed it through a grid of structures, ducking left at a corner market then right at a plaza then two more lefts until finally he stopped at what looked like an abandoned storefront. No life signs.

  An engine revved behind Danny, and he spun back to see that same utility truck from earlier barreling toward him. He stepped to the side and opened fire then watched in horror as it inexplicably hit a curb and launched airborne. The vehicle toppled end-over-end and slammed down into the structure’s left side, exploding it into flames.

  “Mac!” Danny raced onto the scene. “Reiser, Doc, Katie! I need a med team out here right now!” Reaching the wreckage, he grabbed hold of the driver’s side door and tore it free with a single yank. The seat inside was empty. What the—

  A hell storm of railgun fire rained down on Danny from on high as, behind him, an A-90 peppered his right flank. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me?”

  “How’s that for a kill shot, ye trash-talking little walloper! Ha ha ha!”

  Danny threw up his arm and flung himself into the nearest shop. Shards of glass and wood flew everywhere as he hit the floor hard. He rolled to his chest and scampered for cover behind a desk near the back wall. Yep, that’s gonna leave a mark.

  More snickers ensued in Danny’s earpiece.

  “Northern Star, I presume you’re still with us?”

  “Safe and sound, Hurricane. Thanks for your concern.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Danny checked his status. “Gotta admit, guys—that was kind of a dirty trick, making me think you were actually in danger and all.”

  “It got you out in the open, didn’t it?” Mac asked. “And it kept you from checking the balcony where Wulver had posted up. That’s a win in my book.”

  “Don’t suppose you care to tell me if he’s still up there?”

  “Not even gonna dignify that with a response, Hurricane.”

  Danny grunted and sat upright. “Uh-huh. Cry wolf again like that, and see what happens.”

  “Don’t tease.” And with that, Mac signed off.

 

‹ Prev