She staggered outside, adrenaline coursing through her blood stream. The anxiety that came along with the realization of what nearly happened crashed into her like a wave. Her stomach spasmed and she fell to the dirt outside the cabin and threw up. She stayed there on hands and knees, the strength and energy from the adrenaline subsiding. She could feel tears begin to well up. In the span of a couple minutes, she had her view of her father challenged, had been nearly raped, and had killed a man. She dry heaved again, and this time couldn't hold back the sobbing that escaped. She was supposed to be strong, but nothing in her life could have prepared her for this. She stayed there, rocking back on her heels as warm tears flowed down her face.
Slowly she regained control. She tried to wipe the water from her face only to mix it with the soil on her hands creating streaks of mud across her face.
“I need to contact Toby,” she rasped to herself. She needed to get home. Her legs wobbled beneath her at first, but she slowly established her balance and began to move away from the site of the most traumatic moment in her entire life.
Her brain registered the loud crack in the air at nearly the same moment she was kicked in her shoulder by the horse. She spun and fell to the ground striking her head on a moss covered log. She lay there, the wind knocked out of her, and looking for the horse that had been behind her. When she was little, she had been kicked by a horse on an equestrian outing at a resort in Montana. It was the only thing she could think of that made any sense and then she saw him. He stood over her, blood streaming from a serious gash in his scalp and eyes blazing white. In his hand a weapon with a long barrel and a slide below it. A shot gun, it was a shot gun. He had shot her with a shot gun. Then why was she still alive?
“Last time you get a rubber!” he yelled.
He swung the weapon like a club, striking her in the head and the world went dark. When she surfaced from the abyss, she tried to go back. She didn't want to acknowledge that her breasts and thighs could feel the cold twilight air or his weight begin to press on top of her. It was at this most horrible moment that she realized something else. He wasn't wearing his cloak and the HUD on her contact lenses was back on line.
She felt the wind shift. For a second she thought it was just her mind trying to distract her from this horrible experience and then the earth vibrated beneath her back. She opened her eyes in time to see the man, the savage, cough. She felt the warm spittle on her bare flesh and then stared in confusion at his face. The spit that covered his lip and chin was too dark; something was wrong. He then let out a scream of intense pain that came from some primal level. He moved upward, first into a kneeling position, and then standing, finally he left the ground altogether. He was hovering in the air. Her abused mind struggling to make sense of it. Then it all became clear as he was lifted high enough up so that she could see behind him. There stood Tobor, its shining metal chassis covered in blood as it hoisted the howling, nearly naked man over its head and into a horizontal position. Tobor’s right hand dug securely into the man’s back and wrapped around his spinal cord.
Toby carried the shrieking man back into the cabin and out of her sight where, with a snap loud enough for her to hear outside, the screams of pain stopped. In the silence, she slowly curled up into a ball on the wet soil, doing her best to pull the tattered remains of her clothing over her exposed body. She lay there until a hand gently caressed her head. She opened her eyes and saw Toby kneeling before her with one outstretched hand upon her head and the other gently on her shoulder. Without any control, she threw herself into her guardian, wrapping her arms around its hard exterior. She let go of her emotional hold on the situation and let out a wail of grief. She wasn't sure how long this went on for; all she knew was that she felt safe here in the arms of her protector and only friend. Toby slipped its arms under her legs and around her torso and lifted her from the cold soil as gently as a feather on the breeze. She had stopped sobbing, instead staying silent with her head upon its chest plate. Tobor carried her toward a small clearing several hundred meters from the cabin. Situated within was the transport that had dropped her off the day before. They ascend the lowered ramp, and she watched as the seats situated along one of the bulkheads adjusted themselves into a small bed. Toby laid her on it, and she could feel the aircraft begin to move upwards as she heard the ramp close.
The robot looked down at her and hung its head, but then looked her in the eyes. “I need to examine your wounds."
She nodded once, acquiescing to his requirement because her face was swelling bad enough to block the sight in her right eye and her head was pounding. Its hands were probing her head, then the swelling and gash located at the hairline. Toby gently rolled her onto her side and examined her shoulder and the rest of her body. Every slight touch sent fire across her nerves and just the act of moving onto her good arm compelled her to utilize her breathing techniques meant to manage pain. Toby returned her to a laying position.
“I believe that you have a hairline fracture of the skull, and I am certain that your Scapula is broken. The non-lethal round used on you imparted a great deal of kinetic energy."
She lay there silently staring at the ceiling. “I have no experience with this Miss Patterson. Please tell me what you need."
She didn't respond; truth was that she had no idea either. Her battered body demanded sleep, though a likely concussion ruled that out. Her spirit demanded that she scrub her skin with the harshest cleaner she could find under the hottest water she could withstand.
Toby placed a hand on her arm. “Your injuries are serious. I will be rerouting us to an emergency medical facility located nearby. I will inform your parents so they can meet us there."
“No Toby, don't tell them,” she said, regretting her sudden movement.
Tobor shook its head. “I am obligated to inform them of what happened."
“Toby…” She stopped taking a deep breath to calm herself but still her voice came out with a slight quake to it, “I’ll tell them. Just, just not right now. I need some time."
The robot nodded it’s head, “I understand." With that her savior turned toward the cockpit. Her arm shot out grabbing its hand.
“Don’t leave me here. I don't want to be alone." Panic gripping at her, she knew it was irrational. She heard her attacker die, but the wounds were as fresh as possible.
Tobor turned and gently scooped her up, carrying her into the cockpit where she was carefully placed into the copilot’s seat.
Toby returned to the cockpit moments later, sweat pants, shirt, and sanitizing wipes in hand. She took them and then looked at herself. Clothing in tatters, the bastard’s blood congealing on her skin. She took the wipes and began to clean his filth from her. Slowly at first but with greater vigor with each new cloth she pulled from bag. Toby stood over her, flying the craft wirelessly as it tended to her head wound using a first aid kit. Her motions began to lose control as towel after towel was consumed by the mixture of blood and soil that had covered much of her body. No matter how much she scrubbed, she still couldn't feel clean. Tobor’s gentle hand was placed upon hers, stopping her frenzied scrubbing which was beginning to rub her skin raw.
Tears began to flow again as shame and frustration mingled with equal intensity. “How am I supposed to handle this Toby? After everything that's happened in the last few days with me being married off and that monster attacking me… forcing himself on me. How do I ever go back to normal? How do I keep going?”
“You do because you must."
“That's not enough Toby. What incentive is there for me? I was just treated as something less than human and in a few days my parents are going to hand me off to the Hong Kong Spire as some pawn to ensure peace between our two houses." She stopped bringing her closed hand to her lips and pressing them together as she grappled with her rage. “Where I can look forward to being violated for the remainder of my life because I would sooner die then let Chen have me willingly, so what's left for me but a life of misery and sham
e?"
Tobor knelt next to her, not an easy feat given the cramped nature of the cockpit. “Humans do not always get to choose what happens to them, and some events make them victims for a moment, but only they can make themselves into a victim for life."
She stared at it, her mind trying to wrap itself around what the robot had just said. “So it’s my fault?” Disbelief and anger filled her words and she could remember no time when she was angrier at her guardian.
“What he did to you is not your fault.” Tobor stood as tall as it could in the confines of the cabin and looked down at her. Its black visor reflecting an image of her to see. She looked disheveled, exhausted, and clearly angry. Deeper down though she saw that all of that was only masking her true emotion, fear.
“However, he is dead and whatever power you allow him over your future is of your own choosing. Survivors adapt and overcome adversity. They do not allow it to define who they are, instead they master it and use it to fuel them in their quest to achieve their goals.”
With its monologue complete, Tobor took its seat in the pilot’s chair. Before she could comment, Toby continued, “As for Hong Kong, Miss Patterson you are the brightest human I have ever met, and I believe it was a great strategic error on the part of Chen senior to bring you into his inner sanctum. I am predicting that in less than a year you will have usurped the power of his subordinates and successfully seized leadership."
A laugh escaped and she felt her tension ease, but only a fraction. She knew he was right, not about taking over the Hong Kong Spire, but about being the master of one’s own destiny. The pain and emotions were simply too raw right now for her to fully accept the idea, but she knew that she could. “I wish it was easy for me to see things as clearly as you at this moment."
“Maria,” Tobor said, using her first name for the first time since she was little, “while I cannot experience emotions as you, I am currently in great distress at knowing that I have failed to protect you and that in a few short days I will not be able to." Toby turned and looked straight out the wind screen. “I cannot escape my programming. I will be plagued by my failure from now until I deactivate and all future accomplishments will be diminished because of this egregious lapse. This is a fate that I do not wish upon you. I do not expect you to move on from this trauma immediately, but I do hope that you will not give those that harm you more power and influence than they deserve.”
Tears yet again began to flow but for an entirely different reason. “Toby I lo—” she was cut off by the sudden sharp noise of an alarm chirping away.
Tobor’s hands went to the flight controls, and it began to manually pilot the craft. “What's wrong Toby?”
“A very powerful directional jamming device is targeting our craft and preventing wireless communications."
“But aircraft only get jammed when they are about to be attacked." As soon as the words left her mouth, the displays in the cockpit sprang to life alerting them to incoming projectiles.
“Did someone just launch a missile at us?” she blurted out, in complete disbelief that her day could be getting worse.
“Two surface to air missiles have been deployed against us."
“Who… no, how could anyone be attacking us in North America?”
She didn't get an answer as Toby dropped the plane toward the surface so quickly that the inertial compensators on the craft failed to keep up and she felt her stomach in her throat. Below her feet, she could see through the bottom of the translucent cockpit. The speed with which the forest and natural land marks below zipped by did little to calm the sensation of nausea she was experiencing.
“If the missiles don't get us, your flying just might. Awfully close to the ground, aren't we?" Her words punctuated by the sudden vibration and loud bang of the transport ripping off the uppermost part of a large tree.
“I am attempting to confuse their tracking systems; however, this appears to be having little effect though I am hopeful we can evade their jamming with our current strategy."
She tried to connect to the aircraft using her virtual vision, receiving only an error message for her effort. She manually tapped at the LCD screen before her and changed its picture to an aft view of the transport and in the distance could see both devices rapidly closing the gap, one of them far closer than the other. “I don't think that's our primary concern right now. The first of the missiles will be on us in thirty seconds.”
Tobor's hand tapped on its screen and an instant later the night sky lit up in a display of pyrotechnics bright enough for her to not only see on her rear-facing camera but also from the cockpit. She watched on her display as the nearest missile veered toward the mass of flares and metal strips meant to distract attack vehicles using either radar or thermal guidance. It plunged into it and detonated, believing that it had closed the distance between it and the transport enough to damage it with flying shrapnel.
“Woot!” she hollered, immediately regretting it because of the movement in her shoulder and the shooting pain that followed. “Do we have any more decoys?”
To answer her question the night once again came alive. Only this time the second missile stayed hard on their tail and was gaining. “What just happened?”
Toby shook its head. “The missiles have adaptive programming designed to enable them to learn. That is why they were launched in a pair. If the first failed, then its mistakes would be learned by the second and avoided."
“So our decoys won't work and the missile is gaining on us. I hope we’ve got some way to go faster and outlast its fuel supply."
“We are already at the maximum acceleration possible for this craft at this altitude.”
She checked the gauges on her display and realized Tobor was correct. The engines were red lining and she could feel the intense vibrations in the hull of the craft from friction with the air. “So what are we going to do?”
“Goodbye Maria," Tobor said with regret in its voice. With a speed she could barely track, her robotic companion grabbed the handle located between her legs and pulled upward. The canopy split in two with a loud pop and half swung down connecting with the side of her chair and sealing her in a translucent cocoon. Before she realized what was happening, a rocket motor ignited below her and threw her, the chair, and the section of the cockpit that was protecting her from the elements well clear of the remainder of the craft.
The roar of the escape rocket was deafening as it propelled her away from her one true friend and protector. She cried out in anger, frustration, and pain. Anger at how cruel fate had been in just the span of a few hours. Frustration at the fact that yet again Tobor was there for her, yet she couldn't be there for it, and pain because there was so much of it. The rocket was propelling her away so fast that she was pressed into the chair as if some giant were sitting upon her. She watched helplessly as Tobor pulled the transport in a sharp angle, taking it directly up and making itself an easier and more attractive target for the missile.
Toby wanted to make sure it didn't switch focus to her.
The missile altered course and began to quickly gain on the transport. Both were now ascending directly up at a ninety degree angle. Her contacts tracked the missile to within a hundred meters, and she watched as the front of it flashed brightly. For a brief moment she allowed herself to hope that maybe her father had secretly added some form of active missile defense, a laser weapon possibly. Instead she watched as a dart of white hot light leapt from the missile and closed the distance to its target, to Tobor, in the blink of an eye. A blast of flame erupted from the cockpit before the transport tumbled and exploded in midair.
She tried to scream, tried to bang her hands against the protective cocoon that Toby had put her in so it could sacrifice itself, but the world was growing darker. Her brain was being deprived of oxygen as the g-forces mounted and then she blacked out entirely.
What could have only been seconds passed and she was jolted back to consciousness by a sudden and powerful impact. She opened her e
yes gasping instinctually for air as she did and then an instant later throwing her hands in front of herself as the canopy collided with the trunk of a large tree. The cockpit careened off of it, spinning as it did and slinging her into the side wall of the interior. It slammed sideways into another tree and fell dozens of meters to the soil below.
She sat there for a moment, unblinking and in shock. Every part of her body was in intense pain, and she could feel, as well as see, blood flowing from the head wound she had received earlier. Smoke began to creep up at the edges of the canopy, and she succumbed to a fit of coughing. It was nearly impossible to see what was going on outside of the shattered canopy; however, she would rather take her chances out there than potentially burn to death in here. She activated the emergency release, cursing as the motors failed to raise it all the way. She moved herself so that her back was on the seat of her chair. Pushing through the nausea-inducing pain that radiated from her wounded shoulder like ripples along the surface of a body of water, she slammed her feet against the canopy. With one last thrust and a yell of pure anger, it gave way and flung upwards. She threw herself from the cockpit and lay on the cool moist soil, the light reflecting off the moon's surface her only illumination. As orange and yellow flames began to creep up out of the destroyed pod, she forced herself to her feet, not wanting to be close by if any unspent rocket fuel was still left in the ejection system.
With barely enough strength to lift her feet, she began to shamble from the wreckage, tripping over roots and forcing her way through low-lying foliage. She cradled her wounded arm as any movement caused her great discomfort in her shoulder. When she decided she was far enough away, she chose a log that she felt looked more comfortable than all the others and sat down orienting herself so that she could see the rapidly burning pod. Its flames leapt into the night sky like a beacon to the search parties she was certain would be on their way. Even though they had been jammed, a consistent lack of communication would necessitate a response. The burning wreckage of her pod would help them to find her sooner rather than later, so she needed to stay nearby. Not that she needed a whole lot of convincing to stay still; every part of her body, along with her aching soul, was exhausted and wounded. A few smaller fires began to spring up around the pod and she began to wonder what the likelihood of a forest fire was. In her current state, she doubted she could out run one. She activated her lenses and tried to access weather data from the past few weeks to see how moist the area was but realized the jamming was still in effect.
The Spire Page 20