Relic Tech

by Terry W. Ervin II

  Ringsar considered.

  “It is R-Tech equipment after all,” I said, hoping to keep every advantage possible. “It may be too complex for him to figure out.”

  “I ain’t no retard, Relic!”

  Ringsar was on the edge. Good. “Then you decline. That’s okay.” DeLark and O’Vorley returned from Range Two. “Everything ready and divided up?”

  DeLark nodded. “One box of .357 target, one box of .38 specials each holding fifty rounds. Forty-nine 12-gauge shells, size four shot. Range will simulate as size four buck shot.”

  Yizardo returned and announced, “Range One is set up. Diversion Damaged Bunker Defense for Crax Com-Tower Approach, Stegmar Mantis Primary Defense. Scoring based on targets eliminated and duration of diversion.” He took a breath and looked around then at the chronometer. “Program commences in 45 seconds.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “Private Ringsar, you selected the program, you go first.”

  “Fine,” he said, searching for something to add. “But you can’t watch my round.”

  “O’Vorley, give him the revolver,” I said. “It’s even loaded for you.”

  “Ninety second prep time and simulation starts,” Smith said, looking at his watch. “Marine training protocol. Thirty seconds to start.”

  Ringsar didn’t have time to object. Stuffing rounds in their pockets the two shooters moved efficiently toward the range entrance. Each hastily examined the workings of their firearm.

  “You break my guns, you pay for them,” I shouted. It was understood range etiquette but why not remind them. Everyone but Smith moved toward the elevated viewing area. I spotted the attendant heading our way.

  “Okay, Keesay,” Smith said, “here’s what you need to know. After we enter we’ll have ninety seconds to select bunker dimensions and special defenses. Our job is to hold out as long as we can. Assaults will come mainly from Stegmar Mantis.”

  “I know a little about them and something about the Crax,” I interjected.

  “Good. There’ll be few Gar-Crax and they’ll probably have defense screens of unknown strength. Hopefully, not too much. We’ll have to lay in concentrated fire. Also, there’ll be Bulldog Beetles.” My expression told him I needed an explanation. “They’re trained animals, kind of like military attack dogs but smaller. They fly and their pinchers inject a numbing toxin. Weak, but effective on humans.”

  “They’d be taken with the shot gun,” I suggested. “Best range would be forty yards or less unless they’re hard to penetrate.”

  “Right,” Smith said. “Now, the Stegmar fire high-speed needle projectiles with various toxins. From the computerized defense options, I recommend we select the antitoxin inoculation.”

  “Doesn’t it detract from our score?”

  “It does, Keesay, but if you’re hit early you’re out.”

  “Stegmar. They’re R-Tech, correct?”

  “Right,” said Smith.

  “How are the needles fired, propelled?”

  “Compressed gasses, CO2 I believe.”

  “Can I use riot gear in place of inoculations?”

  “Sure,” said Smith, “but why?”

  I turned to the attendant. “Can you get a riot control shield?”

  He looked a little taken aback to be addressed. “Sure.”

  “Get it fast!” I urged. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Fortunately, for his own reasons, the attendant took off running. I looked at the chronometer. “Simulation should be starting within fifteen seconds. I’m figuring they won’t last long.”

  “We may not either, but it’s your game,” Smith said. “Anyhow, something else. You know anything about the Stegmar’s predatory sounding?”

  Puzzled, I said, “No.”

  Smith looked a little troubled. “It’s loud and can be unnerving.” He paused. “Best I can describe it would be an agitating, clicking sound. They use it to panic prey, flush them. And when there’s a group sounding, it’s worse.” He thought a second. “Penetrates right to the bone, like nails scratching a chalkboard to a factor of ten. You’d have to deaden all hearing to negate it.”

  “Nice analogy with the chalk,” I said, hoping the sounding wouldn’t distract me too much. “Eliminating all verbal communication between us, correct?”

  “When they get close enough,” he said. “That’ll be in the simulation. I bet Ringsar hopes it’ll unnerve you.”

  “I’m pretty steady,” I said. “Let me warn you, I’m not a fast shot, but I’m accurate. You take the shotgun?”

  “That’s what I figured,” Smith agreed. “Just wanted to prepare you. Trust me to make the bunker selections?”

  “I trust your judgment. And I’m glad you’re willing to shoot with me.”

  “Pillar, I think they call him,” Smith said, glancing over my shoulder. “You took my advice. He was spoiling for a fight and you avoided it.”

  “He’d have made quick work of me. But maybe we can make quick work on terrain of my choosing.”

  “You pushed him pretty hard. Shooting with you is one thing...”

  “I know, but I needed an edge in negotiating terms of the match.”

  “Here comes your friend, Keesay. So what’s your plan?”

  The attendant hustled over. “Here. I checked it out for an hour.”

  “Plenty of time, thanks.” I handed him two gum wraps. “Real cane sugar in them.”

  Looking pleased, he said, “May as well go watch, what’s left. The lieutenant’s recording it.”

  Interesting, I thought. Maybe the lieutenant doesn’t care for Ringsar. I unfolded the clear reinforced duro-plastic shield before adjusting the braces and arm sling. Smith watched. “This should protect me from the needles,” I said. “If scoring is similar to security scenarios, then using R-Tech equipment in lieu of I-Tech injections will decrease point deduction before the time factor.” I demonstrated by hunkering down with the tall convex shield over my left shoulder. “I can curl in behind this while reloading.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when I select the defensive setup.” He pointed toward the range. “Must be over. Short like you expected. All we have to do is to last longer and kill a few more.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  Infuriated, Ringsar emerged from the range. “Worthless piece of crap,” he yelled. “Here take it, Sec-Spec.”

  O’Vorley cringed when Ringsar slammed the revolver into his hand. The young security specialist shifted his grip to a safer one and moved to the table with Yizardo who’d retrieved the shotgun. Ringsar stomped our way. His action was over, so there was no reason to rile him further.

  “You little...” began the fuming marine, but he was too angry to finish, his hands balled into fists. “If I ever,” he started before lunging.

  I wasn’t surprised and deflected his bulk with my shield. Still, he knocked me off balance. If he got a hold of me, the shield would be useless, so I discarded it before he came at me again.

  I thought I was ready, but with near perfect execution he stopped, pivoted, and came around with a kick, striking my right leg. The blow hurt, but I kept my footing and came back with a punch to his kidney. Little effect. I backed off, blocking a blow to my head. Even that staggered me. If he got hold of me I was done for.

  Seeing that I had no desire to engage him and probably recalling the lieutenant’s recommendation, two of Ringsar’s buddies tried to restrain him. He threw them off and charged again. That delay gave me time to retrieve a little relic technology to help my cause. I was going to lose, but he’d pay a price. This in mind, I slipped on my brass knuckles and made ready.

  This time my foe directed his assault with more cunning than rage. I dodged and swung, but before I knew what was happening he knocked me to the ground. I sent two brass reinforced jabs to his face. He snared my jabbing arm in an iron grip. I tried to roll him off as he landed a crushing blow to my chest.

  I gasped, trying to refill my lungs while his massive hand pa
lmed my face. I pried at his grip with my free hand to no avail, then braced myself as he drew my head up and prepared to slam it against the floor. I bit at his palm before he thrust my skull downward.

  My head never struck. Someone rammed into Ringsar and knocked him off of me. I rolled away, still gasping for air. More surprised than stunned, Ringsar rolled to his feet while O’Vorley scrambled to his, and backed away.

  “Halt!” O’Vorley shouted in a shaky, adrenaline-charged voice. “Or you’ll be detained and charged with assault.”

  I struggled for air, not expecting help from the any of the marines. They watched with interest as Ringsar grinned.

  Wiping blood from a gash above his eye, he laughed. “Back off, kid, or you’re next.” He started toward me, but hesitated at O’Vorley’s next move.

  With stun baton in hand, O’Vorley stated with a measure of authority, “Marine Private, I said stop!”

  One of Ringsar’s buddies started to make a move, but Smith grabbed him and mumbled into his ear.

  Ringsar turned on O’Vorley. “Then I’ll take you first!”

  I reacted, but not fast enough.

  O’Vorley stepped back and swung his baton. The marine easily blocked the strike and caught Kent across the chin with a right. He was even less of a match for the hulking marine than me. Before I could get there, O’Vorley was down. But I saw my chance.

  Just as Ringsar turned to face me, I came in low and plowed my shoulder into his knee. It popped as we went down. Grabbing O’Vorley’s baton, I rolled away before the marine got hold of me again.

  Ringsar bellowed, grabbing his knee, “Get him!”

  Two of his fellow marines responded before a commanding voice behind me ordered, “Marines, halt!” Silence followed. Behind me stood the lieutenant and three Marine MPs. “What’s the matter, Private?” asked the lieutenant. “Pick a fight and lost this time?” He glared at me. “What caused this incident, Specialist?”

  I knew it was all recorded. “I am not sure, sir. Private Ringsar came out of the range and charged me.”

  “And what about him?” he asked, pointing at the unconscious O’Vorley.

  “Specialist O’Vorley ordered Private Ringsar to restrain himself and threatened him with detainment if he didn’t.” I thought quickly. “Specialist O’Vorley was within his rights, even in Green Sector, as the altercation involved a fellow security specialist.”

  “I know the regulations, Specialist. He was out of line.”

  I wanted to keep O’Vorley and myself out of trouble. “Technically, sir, we are under the same authority through corporate agreement between Negral Corp and Quinn Mining.” I looked at Ringsar. “I would like to keep this incident off the record. Even if the situation would warrant it, I have no intention of filing any charges against anyone, sir. I can speak for Specialist O’Vorley. He doesn’t either.”

  The lieutenant looked skeptical. “Corporal Smith, is what the specialist said occurred here, accurate?”

  “Yes, it is, sir.”

  “Could he file charges against Private Ringsar?”

  “I couldn’t say for sure, sir,” Smith said, catching a glimpse of a surveillance camera.

  While the lieutenant pondered the situation, two Quinn security personnel entered the range area. “Specialist Dribbs,” said the lieutenant, “you have a man down. Take him to the infirmary.”

  “What happened here, Lieutenant, sir?” Dribbs asked.

  “Specialist O’Vorley has declined to file charges, so it’s out of your jurisdiction.”

  Dribbs looked around and took in the scene. “Yes, sir.”

  I handed Dribbs the stun baton. “This is O’Vorley’s.”

  He grunted, inspecting the welt rising under Kent’s left eye. Blood trickled from Kent’s mouth, down his cheek. “Wake up, kid.”

  O’Vorley stirred and then awoke with a jolt. “It’s all right, kid.” The older Sec-Spec helped Kent to his feet and provided support.

  As they went past, I winked. “Thanks, O’Vorley. Now you look like me.”

  “Just what he needs,” Dribbs mumbled. Still unfocused, Kent grinned.

  “Get moving,” said the lieutenant. “You, Keesay, get your gear. You are prohibited use of this range and associated facilities until further notice. Yizardo, assist him.”

  I could live with that and moved to follow his directive fast as my aching body allowed.

  Not looking happy, Yizardo said, “I’ll gather the spent casings for recycling and the unused shells.”

  “Just toss them together,” I replied while inspecting my duty revolver. “I’ll sort it out later.” I heard the lieutenant speaking harshly, but in muffled tones, to Ringsar. “What do you think’ll happen to Private Ringsar?”

  “He’ll go on report,” Yizardo said crossly. “Depends on how long he’s off duty.”

  I didn’t feel guilty in the least. “If he didn’t have such a hot head.”

  “If you hadn’t set him up.”

  “I know you have to stick up for a fellow marine,” I said. “He wanted a fight and I tried to avoid it. He got what he wanted, just not what he expected.”

  “That kid stuck up for you,” Yizardo said with measured respect. “Surprised the hell out of me.”

  “We’re not as highly trained as you marines, but the same type of blood flows through our veins. Just a different vintage.” I put the shotgun in its sack. “If he’d had some training, he wouldn’t have been dropped so easily.”

  “Give me those brass knuckles,” replied Yizardo, “and I’ll make sure he can shoot straight.”

  I pulled them out of my pocket. “What’ll I do next time I run across an angry marine?”

  “Get your ass kicked just like today.”

  I reached into another pocket. “Tell you what. You give those to O’Vorley and I’ll give you this instead.” I handed him the beef jerky.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  I grinned. “Us R-Techs have our sources. Do we have a deal?”

  “Sure thing,” he said. “Got everything?”

  I placed my .38 in its ankle holster. “Yes.”

  “You’d better get out of here before the lieutenant changes his mind.”

  The lieutenant continued chewing out Ringsar and his pals even as they loaded the injured marine onto a stretcher. “Right. My transport comes in tomorrow, but maybe our paths will cross again.”

  Yizardo smirked.

  I made it back to my quarters, earning a few stares but without incident. I was too sore to go out and find a meal, so instead I scribbled a note to O’Vorley, personally thanking him. I cleaned my guns and sorted shells before making arrangements to be notified when the Kalavar made contact with the dock.

  After that, I packed everything for travel and prepared for bed. As I relaxed my battered body, I thought back on the past day. The image of fallen Agent Brown brought a tear as I said a prayer for her, and for the soul of the gunman I’d killed that day. I didn’t have the strength that night to pray for the others.

  Chapter 14

  An inner colony is defined as one established within the negotiated security zone. During the Silicate War the military, supported by corporations, established a number of outposts with con-gates inside the security zone. Immediately after the war, corporations forged their way further into the stars seeking planets, moons and asteroids to exploit and settle.

  With few habitable planets discovered within the security zone, efforts focused on the relatively large number of planets, moons and asteroid belts offering mineral wealth, despite their otherwise inhospitable characteristics.

  Exploiting the mineral wealth in the inner colonies, corporations, with military support, leapfrogged to establish border and even some outer colonies. It is a difficult and dangerous, yet profitable, enterprise.

  I awoke to shrill beeps sounding off at two-second intervals. Using the illumination from the flashing wall screen, I activated the lights and tapped the red section of the screen.<
br />
  “Patron computer request has monitored an incoming message from the civil transport Kalavar,” said a sharp, synthesized voice. “You have been notified per your request.” After a pause, it continued, “May I be of further assistance?”

  Who authorized artificial intelligence programs to refer to themselves as ‘I’? “Yes, you can,” I said, being very concise. “When is the civil transport Kalavar scheduled to dock with this, the Mavinrom Space Dock?”

  “The transport is scheduled to dock at 05:26 Earth standard time. One hour and twenty-nine minutes from now. Will that be all this morning, Specialist Keesay?”

  Its syntax impressed me, but I didn’t care for the familiarity. Some I-Techs feel more at ease conversing with a computer than a person. Not me. “No. I have another question. At which docking bay is the civil transport Kalavar scheduled to be received?”

  “The transport Kalavar is expected to dock at Bay Four. May I be of further assistance to you this morning?”

  “That is all.”

  “Thank you,” it replied before the computer screen flashed to the Quinn logo, a bold, blue ‘Q’ emblazoned upon a pitted asteroid.

  I performed my morning regimen of stretches, sit-ups, and pushups. I did pretty well considering my battered condition. I hopped in the shower to take full advantage of water rights provided by Field Director Simms. My shoulder was tender but healing. My lip and eye needed some time, too. Using my straight razor, I shaved before brushing my teeth, running a comb through my hair, and placing ointment on my injuries.

  Fortunately, the room had a cleaning chamber. Many I-Tech inventions are annoying, but this one is handy, despite the fact that Capital Galactic Investment holds the patent. The night before I’d placed my uniform in the rectangular wall panel and activated the chemical cleaning sequence. As usual, it did an excellent job.

  Last, I dressed, including my new, pocketed duty vest before strapping on my duty sidearm and backup. I missed my brass knuckles. I had an hour before docking so I rechecked my cart and refilled my water bottles before hurrying to the central transport hub to take an internal shuttle.