Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  "You look like shit, Eugene," Hephaestus said.

  "And you look like a bitter old cuss," Eugene wheezed.

  "I take it you're busy."

  "Busy dyin, maybe," Eugene said. "They took half my liver only to find out it metastasized. They gave me six months... five years ago."

  "You always were stubborn."

  "I can deal with the tumors in the lungs," Eugene said. "It was the one in the bladder that was a real bitch."

  "You could have called."

  "This ain't your fight."

  "Still, I drove out here expecting the old Eugene. If I hadn't come looking for your help, you'd have been dead before I knew it."

  "We haven't talked in ten years, what makes you think I'd have helped you if I wasn't dyin?"

  "Aliens," Hephaestus said.

  Yellowed eyes twitched in his direction.

  "Can we trust him?" Hephaestus tipped his head towards the young man standing in the corner.

  "That's Syd. He's Sally's grandbaby. He's almost kin."

  "You know the Ygnaza who were threatening to rain death down on everybody until the heroes clocked them? One of their escape ships came down on company land. I have a head start on recovery. I just need backup because Van Wyck is on her way, and the heroes are bound to send somebody too."

  "You're too old for this shit," Eugene said. "Haven't you gotten past your statute of limitations?"

  "The Ygnaza are slavers, enemies of all mankind. No one is going to press charges for going after them. And they're on company land, so I won't even be trespassing."

  "Well, shit, you almost make it sound like it's legit," Eugene said. "Shame I can't even stand up. You know I always loved alien tech."

  "Anyone in the area you'd trust to take over?"

  "All we got is Syd," Eugene said.

  "Does Syd have a last name?" Hephaestus asked.

  "Garrett," Syd said. His voice was deeper than Hephaestus expected.

  "And do you know who Eugene used to be?"

  "He was a supervillain until the eighties," Syd said. "He said he left because things got too ugly."

  "You always did talk too much, Eugene."

  "At least I had friends, old man."

  "Do you know who Van Wyck is?"

  "No," Syd said.

  "Jessica Van Wyck was a student of mine. Then she decided she didn't need me anymore and tried to kill me. In case you can't tell, it didn't work. Like Eugene, she never could resist alien tech. She also has this burning need to prove herself better than me. So an alien escape ship plopping down on my family's land is a lure she can't resist."

  "You know Jess is going to bring her 'daughters' with her," Eugene wheezed. "I hope I wasn't your plan for dealing with them."

  "You were a better 'heavy' than I was."

  "So who are the heroes sending?"

  "Could be anybody, the Ygnaza were an all-points crisis for them."

  "You're getting sloppy in your old age if you think I'm going to believe you came out here without knowing first."

  "Molot," Hephaestus said.

  Eugene laughed, then cried out in pain and clutched his side. "You wanted to pit me against the heavy of heavies?"

  "Actually my plan had been to pit you against the surviving Ygnaza after we got Molot bogged down fighting Van Wyck."

  Eugene shook his head, the respirator tubes wobbling as he did so. "This is a real cluster-- not even you could control the flow of this fight."

  "So, you're telling me I should drive home and let either Van Wyck, the Community Fund, or the government walk off with the tech that just dropped into my lap?"

  "No, just that you'll need a new plan."

  "I need to know what I've got to work with before I can come up with one," Hephaestus said.

  "You still have a thing about magic users?" Eugene asked.

  "You expect me to be any different?"

  "Not really, but the one person you might be able to convince to help is a battlecaster. A bit showy at times, but we refitted my old power armor to help with those pesky bullets."

  "You mean Syd, don't you?"

  "Sure as hell ain't me, and Sally's been dead."

  "You realize your old armor is obsolete by today's standards?" Hephaestus asked.

  "Did you bring me a new one in the back of your truck?" Eugene wheezed. "You came here for my help, what were you expecting me to bring to the party? It's sturdy, it's over-engineered, and it will keep him alive. It may not be as fancy as whatever you've outfitted Ptah with, but you know it will take a beating."

  "I know exactly what it can and can't do. I built the damn thing."

  "We've made a few changes. Magical crap, you wouldn't understand it."

  "You know what the potential worst-case is going to look like," Hephaestus said. "Do you really expect me to bring some kid I just met along with me?"

  "Give him a chance and I'll give you Kali."

  "You finished it?"

  "Got nothing but time these days. It ain't easy to program an AI-Killer out in these back woods, but she's ready."

  "If the kid knows how to listen, then we've got a deal."

  "Now don't go and die before me," Eugene said. "Either of you."

  Eugene's barn was as wobbly as the main house, but it was used mainly as a garage. Parked in the open space in the middle of the building was a shining silver Airstream trailer hitched to a mint green Streamliner. Hephaestus' sharp eye darted around the vehicle and trailer. Despite the dilapidated surroundings, the two were intact. Their tires were fully inflated and there were no outward signs of corrosion or mechanical wear. At a casual glance, they looked as if they'd rolled out of the showroom that morning. The first sign that they were not factory fresh was a subtle one: the enlarged door on the Airstream. Hephaestus' older design power armors were bulky affairs that wouldn't have fit through the stock door on an Airstream in one piece.

  Syd opened the trailer door and climbed in. The once-classy interior of the Airstream had been ripped out and the trailer converted to a rolling workshop. Standing in the middle of the space like a hulking brute was a suit of burnished titanium and steel. Etched into the face of each armored plate were a series of bizarre twisting symbols and harsh runes that made Hephaestus' eyes want to bleed looking at them. Between the round eye pieces, the once-blank face of the helm was marked with four columns of vertical cuneiform inscriptions that together ended in a large rune. A stout chain was wrapped about the left shoulder and welded at several spots. Hanging from the chain was a metal-bound book covered with the same sorts of symbols as the armor. The leaves of the book looked like paper from a distance, but Hephaestus guessed they were probably some form of synthetic material.

  "I never thought I'd see my work desecrated like that," Hephaestus said.

  "When energized, the wards enhance the armor's defensive properties," Syd said. "We couldn't make it more agile, so we made it more durable."

  "Layered carbon fiber and carbide composites would have done the same thing."

  "The wards don't add any weight."

  Hephaestus decided to change the subject before he lost his temper. "So, do you know how to use this thing?"

  "I may not be as practiced as Eugene, but I can use it."

  "What's the book for?"

  "It's a combat grimoire."

  "Do you have to sit there and read the thing while getting shot at?"

  "No, it's a mental focus. It helps me concentrate."

  Hephaestus sighed, shaking his head. "If you can help it, do not engage Molot. You are only to deal with the aliens and Van Wyck's 'daughters'."

  "Don't these daughters have names?" Syd asked.

  "No. They are combat gynoids made up to resemble wha
t their maker used to look like."

  "How life-like?"

  "Very," Hephaestus said. "Are you a registered Red Card?"

  "No, the feds don't know what I can do," Syd said.

  "Good. Now don't get yourself seen with your helmet off."

  "So, are we ready?"

  "Far from it, but we have to get going anyway."

  Part 2

  The gate guard had been skeptical when Hephaestus had demanded entry, glancing between the white pickup's occupants and the silver trailer hitched behind them. But, 'Hephaestus Rickard III' was in the system. After a little befuddlement, he opened the gate and let them drive off into the oilfield. Turning down an unpaved access road, Hephaestus slowed so as to not lose the trailer.

  Syd tried to hide his nerves as they rumbled over the hard-packed earth and rock. Though he had little doubt Hephaestus could see it anyway. The man had a gaze sharp enough to draw blood.

  "Why is there so much empty land in the oilfield back here?" Syd asked.

  "Most of the oil is under the lake," Hephaestus said, "But horizontal drilling is cheaper than a court battle with the econuts over drilling in our own lake. All of the important stuff back here is underground." It was the most he'd said to Syd during the drive out to the oilfield. He resumed his silence as they pulled into a small clearing. Through a gap in the trees, Syd saw the glimmering smooth surface of a lake. Turning off the engine, Hephaestus climbed out. His slow pace let Syd catch up to him by the time he got the tailgate open. The old man handed Syd a radio earpiece.

  "Suit up," Hephaestus said.

  Syd continued on to the trailer and climbed inside. The hulking form of the armor stared down at him. Reaching behind the sides of the breastplate, Syd found the release catches and tripped them in series. The whole front of the torso from gorget to groin hinged up at the shoulders, exposing the interior and stretching the opening in the control weave. The suit was fully opened by unlatching the front of the thighs. Those panels were hinged at the knee cop and when folded down, held the opening in the control webbing as wide as it went. Turning his back to the armor, Syd climbed in, stepping into the greaves and pushing his arms down the sleeves of the control webbing. Working his fingers into the gloves, he pushed his head into the helm.

  Being as old as it was, the suit had an analog control scheme. There was an elastic webbing that embraced the wearer. It was connected by a series of strong threads to spring-loaded variable resistors. The amount of electricity going through the resistors would control the direction and speed of the various servos controlling the joints. There was a very slight lag between the motion of the wearer and the motion of the suit, but there wasn't a single microchip in the suit's control system.

  Syd closed the front of the armor and checked the seals. A little adjusting got his eyes behind the lenses of the helmet. Disconnecting from external power, Syd held his grimoire and walked out of the trailer. The motion of the individual armor plates felt and looked like they should be clanking with every step, but, it had been built specifically to avoid such pointless noise. The heavy footfalls, however, hadn't been engineered away. The crunch of gravel underfoot still made Syd smile. He wanted to shout, "I've got a suit of power armor!" But, the only one who'd hear it was the man who'd built the thing. And Hephaestus didn't strike him as the sort to be amused by such things.

  The hulking, but not quite clanking, armor felt obsolete as Syd laid eyes on the sleek ebon armor that had emerged from the back of the pickup. Barely larger than a well-built man, the interlocking plates and smooth lines of the black-and-gold armor almost screamed speed and agility. It hadn't given up the feeling of solidity. The new model looked like it could take a hit, or dodge one if need be. Picking up a rectangular shield and a broad-headed hammer from the back of the truck, it cocked its head at Syd.

  "This is Ptah," Hephaestus said over the radio. "It will be my avatar for this."

  "What do you mean 'your avatar'?"

  Hephaestus slid to the back of the truck bed on a low, wheeled platform. "I am too old to run around in armor clobbering things," he said. "So I built a robot to do it for me. You could put that armor on a person, but I don't trust anyone to wear it."

  "Is Ptah autonomous?"

  "Semi-autonomous. I prioritize, it executes. I don't have the reflexes for a true remote control."

  "I see," Syd said.

  Hephaestus pulled closed the tailgate, ensconcing himself in the back of his pickup. "Security has already reported a breach in the perimeter fence along the south end. Odds are it is Van Wyck. We need to get moving."

  "Lead on," Syd said. Ptah turned and marched towards the lake, hammer held low. Two tracks ran up the armor's back, holding what looked to be compact cannons. Currently, they sat near the small of the back, but looked capable of popping up to fire over the shoulders. Nearing the edge of the water, Syd was thankful that the ground was rocky. Sinking into the mud would be more than a little embarrassing at this point. Ptah turned left before reaching the water. Syd followed the drone. Stepping past a fallen trunk, Syd paused as his foot crunched on charred chunks. In a fan in front of him were several more toppled trunks, though the ends closer to the lake had been burned away. An angular trench had been carved into the ground at the center of that fan and partly filled with murky water.

  "Where's the ship?" Syd asked.

  "Please tell me you weren't blind enough to ask that question."

  "Did it fly off on us?"

  "No," Hephaestus said. Ptah pointed with his hammer at the trench. "It backed into the water." As Ptah walked towards the shoreline, Syd held up his Grimoire, left hand under the spine. With the murmurs on his breath it flipped open, pages turning of their own accord. Coming to a glowing page, Syd channeled the energy needed to render the suit waterproof and keep the air inside breathable. Some of the sigils carved into it glowed before separating from the surface and flowing along the lines of text in a continuous loop. Ptah was already wading into the shallows before Syd could race to catch up. Maintaining the spell in the back of his mind took some focus, but Syd had the mental discipline to manage.

  The chill of the autumn waters lapped at his shins as Syd entered behind the black-and-gold drone. Buoyancy was not an issue, both were too dense to float. A side-effect of the active spell was to cast the murky waters in an azure glow. Despite the rocky shore, there was still plenty of silt and shredded plant matter swirling around. As Ptah disappeared beneath the gentle waves and the water reached his pauldrons, Syd asked himself how certain he was that the spell worked. He shook it off. The control circuits would have shorted out if the spell wasn't working. Taking the plunge, he stepped forward and sank below the waterline. His faith was rewarded as water did not flood through the filterless grille that normally allowed him to breathe.

  Visibility was crap. Occasionally, he caught a glimmer of gold trim that told him Ptah was still in front of him. Calling up another spell, Syd shifted his sight from opacity to density. The water was still a haze around him, but the contours of the lake bed played out in pale blue. Ptah appeared sharply in front of him. In the distance, a winged form that was clearly artificial, rested on the bottom.

  "I see it," Syd said.

  "Where?" Hephaestus asked. Syd wondered why he hadn't asked 'how' instead.

  "You're on course to miss it, turn about ten degrees left."

  Without another word, Ptah turned slightly left, and walked to the submerged vessel. Hooking the hammer onto a bracket on the back of the shield, Ptah began searching the hull with his free hand. Finding some form of control, Ptah triggered a hatch to swing open. It was little larger than a hand's span across. He prodded at the controls inside. His arm dropped. With his focus on two spells at once, Syd was more than a little distracted. With nothing happening, fear began to creep into him. When a segment of the hull swung down, forming a ram
p, Syd blinked, losing his visual spell. Through the murk, he could barely make out the off-yellow hull and the lit cavity in the side. Ptah climbed the ramp.