by J. N. Chaney
“Tell me when you can see the town and the wheel ride,” X-37 said.
“Not sure I know what you’re talking about, X.” I hiked over another hill but saw nothing but the seaside.
“My host device is located in a resort town on the coast. On the pier is a large wheel that people ride for entertainment. Before the invasion, it was well known for the colorful lights it displayed at night.”
I descended into another valley and picked up the pace. X-37 didn’t sound right. It was like he was drunk or feverish, neither condition being possible for a limited artificial intelligence.
“I’m not finding it. Am I heading the right direction?”
X-37 didn’t answer.
Freaking awesome. I spent the next hour wondering where people ride this entertainment wheel and how bored they must be to make wheel riding the highlight of their day. “Must be alcohol involved. Please let there be alcohol involved.”
I stopped after the next valley, staring into the darkening sky. “Are you sure this was the right heading, X?”
My LAI responded this time, but only after a long pause. His voice was so low I might have imagined it. “You are on the correct heading, Reaper Cain.”
I resisted the urge to ask for clarification. Less talk meant less taxing X’s power reserves.
Night had taken control of the coast by the time I reached the coastal town known for its carnival rides. There weren’t any lights. Or people. Or messages from my LAI.
I watched the place from the shadows, searching for signs of enemy occupation, ambush, or dangerous animals—because that’s what I do.
The wheel didn’t look mobile. It stood on a pier with twenty bucket chairs hanging inertly. The frame looked permanent. I laughed despite my attempt to remain undetected in the shadows. The wheel was even less exciting than I thought. “That thing doesn’t go anywhere. It just turns in place. Lame.”
X-37 stayed out of the needless conversation. I took his example and shut up. Creeping forward, I watched and listened for danger.
And of course located three looters in shabby military gear. Once I knew they were alone, I followed them. The uniforms didn’t fit well, so I assumed they were stolen. Each man carried a rifle, but only one had a magazine in place. I was unfamiliar with the design, but some aspects of the weapon type were universal if used by bipedal humanoids. These models were bulky in the middle, as though designed for two handed magazine changes and maybe to store a couple of sandwiches and a beer.
In all seriousness, there was a lot of unexplained mass in the center of the weapons.
Of course the two without magazines might still fire. The mags could be for power, or ammunition, or both. I had always kept a bullet in the pipe in my HDK, ready to fire without racking the slide. There could be bullets or rods or crossbow bolts in the barrel with at least one shot ready to go. Either way, the man with the rifle and magazine was the biggest threat.
He would need to go first if they caused me trouble.
We moved through the small town, three men looking to steal stuff at night and one freshly minted Reaper in search of his LAI following them. The buildings were small, single purpose dwellings—shops, homes, and a few cafes. There were smaller buildings on the pier near the wheel ride and plenty of open areas with no cover whatsoever.
Ten minutes into the game, I realized they were going to the ride. I hung back and watched them start it up, climb into one of the buckets, and ride it to the top of the circle. Music and lights filled the night.
The wheel stopped turning when they reached the summit.
I watched and waited for half an hour. “What the hell are you three doing up there?”
I carefully scouted the rest of the town, aware that the trio of armed looters had an excellent view of everything for miles. They controlled the high ground, possessed long guns, and had no reason to cut me a break. I assumed they were as likely to shoot first and ask questions later as parley.
“X, am I close?”
“You are, Reaper Cain. Can you see the building at the end of the pier? It’s not large,” X-37 said.
“Yeah. But I have to pass under the wheel to get there, and there are three men on it with guns.”
“Unfortunate. These are local raiders, very violent and sometimes cannibals,” X-37 said. “They will attempt to kill you when you move into the open areas between buildings and rides.”
“Can I move under the pier? Swim to the end and climb up?”
X-37 processed my suggestion for a few seconds. “Unknown. The tides may smash you against the pilings.”
I snuck to the first building on the pier, slipped inside, and watched the wheel through a dark window. Nothing changed. The music was still too loud, and the lights too bright. I couldn’t see past them.
“My analysis suggests they sleep in the top seat to avoid predators and other looters. There are many tactical advantages to their location, as well as some disadvantages. Their presence is obvious due to the noise and bright lights, but the same factors conceal them from direct observation,” X-37 said.
“I noticed.”
“There is a simple solution, Reaper Cain. Cut the power, and they will no longer be invisible behind the lights. Additionally, they won’t be able to ride the chair down to interfere with your mission to find me.”
“They could climb down,” I said. “And would still have the concealment of darkness.”
“But you would see them coming.”
“They have rifles, X.”
“Do you think they are good shots?” X-37 asked. “I have only seen what you have seen. My escape allowed me to remain functional but removed my use of your senses. I’ve always relied on you to see and hear. The host device has no eyes or ears. I can only detect the signal that the priming dose you drank projects.”
“That potion you left me was charged?”
“Yes, Reaper Cain. I can detect the polarity of the neural interface preparation dose. There are also simple nanites that allow you to read this signal as well as the HUD messages,” X-37 said.
“Very clever, X. Remind me to give you a gold star on your report card.”
“I will add that to your task list. My point is that I have scant direct knowledge of the local raiders. Everything I postulate is from indirect evidence, their use of radio signals, and other electronic disturbances, to be precise.”
“Well, you did a lot with that limited information. Leave the rest to me. I’ll handle them and contact you at the end of the pier.”
“Very good, Reaper Cain. I will enter low power mode until you get here,” X-37 said.
“One last question to ask. Do you have any other hardware waiting for me?”
“No, Reaper Cain. If you desire weapons, you must take them from someone else.”
I pondered the garish festival scene on the pier and smiled. My LAI always knew how to speak my language. Sneaking past the three rogues would be a good idea, but that would take a long time. I would need to move as slow as a sniper, advancing inches at a time, and that would only work if I could do it before the sun came out.
Assaulting an elevated position with only a knife had its own set of problems. I needed to draw them out, bait them. How to do that without getting shot in the face would be the tricky part.
I searched the small hut. It looked like the previous owner made bracelets and other trinkets to sell to tourists. There was nothing useful here. Or was there?
I found a pair of flashlights and some crafting tools, then laid them out to show X-37. “I know you don’t have a lot of extra bandwidth right now, but can you help me build a distraction device? I’m thinking I can fling one of these flashlights and draw their attention and ambush them when they come down to investigate.”
My LAI didn’t answer verbally. Instead he displayed a tight schematic on the exact device I needed. He also picked up things I didn’t notice about the room, most notably that there were children’s toys near the back. He added them to my inven
tory.
I gathered up a wind-up toy, two flashlights, and some rolls of tape. Holding my hand over the light, I checked it to make sure it was working. The device had a strobe option that should make it much more distracting to my enemies. Perfect.
I put it all together, taping the two flashlights to the toy truck, and then looked for a launch site. This was the risky part. When I rolled the truck across the pier, they might see where it came from. I was hoping they weren’t paying attention at first and didn’t spot the point of origin. I only wanted them to notice after it was well away from my hiding place.
Either way, I just needed them to come down while I remained hidden. Then I could take them out with speed, surprise, and violence of action. Would my old Reaper blade have helped? Absolutely. I understood why the program required them. Part of it was the sacrifice of giving up an organic arm required of each agent, an act that assured total dedication to joining the Reaper Corps. But it was also simply pragmatic to always have a weapon no matter what happened.
I liked my new hand, but I missed the power of my old weaponry.
Music blared from the base of the gigantic wheel. Lights of every color in the rainbow blinded me when I looked in that direction. I couldn’t accomplish anything until I acted on the first part of X-37’s suggestion.
I needed to cut the power. Scrolling through the HUD messages, I located the diagram of the pier X-37 had sent me, then slipped quietly out of my hiding place. The power plant was on dry land and easy to access without being seen. Cutting the power was like old times. I’d killed the juice to hundreds of target locations in my past life.
The breaker switch made a loud thunk when I flipped it. Music cut off mid melody. Lights vanished, and the coast fell into total darkness.
I rushed back to my crafter’s hut and checked the toy truck one last time.
“Here goes nothing.” I pressed the strobe light button and shoved the little truck across the pier with maximum force. It went gliding toward the fresh darkness of the pier.
Waves crashed on the shore. Night birds complained as they circled high above. Far out to sea, the attack hippos splashed and told stories about the time they almost ate a Reaper.
For about five seconds, I doubted my plan would work and considered other options. Maybe I could sprint past them as they watched the truck bump against the guard railing. Once I reconnected with X-37, I could wait until they lost interest and sneak past them or dive into the ocean and swim for it. I’d survived the dangerous sea creatures once. Why not push my luck?
I settled in between my building and the next, waiting for the perfect time and place to ambush the trio of looters. None of their gear fit well, and they didn’t move in a disciplined manner. I hoped they weren’t trained soldiers.
As Reaper operations went, this might be my lamest yet—but it had to work.
I waited.
The distraction device rolled against the railing of the pier and stopped. Nothing changed on the blacked out festival wheel. I was about to abandon the plan when I finally saw a lone figure climbing down to investigate.
Of course they only sent one. They were smarter than I hoped. I crossed my fingers for good luck. “Please let this be the one with the full magazine in his rifle.”
He held the weapon more like an untrained hunter than a soldier, which was good for me. The barrel pointed straight up, practically in his face. A soldier might call the position port arms, but it was too vertical, and he had his finger through the trigger guard. That was how tragedies happened.
I moved quietly, closing the distance while keeping the small buildings between me and the wheel. The other two shouldn’t be able to see us until my prey actually reached the truck and flashlights.
“Hey, jackass,” I said to slow him down.
He turned around, aiming his weapon from the hip. Instinct shooting could be accurate. I froze, not wanting to give away my position. I was close but just out of arm’s reach. If his eyes were adjusted to the darkness, I was screwed. With luck, he hadn’t got the flashing festival wheel lights out of his vision yet.
“Who’d there? Who’d you? Show’d yourself’d.”
A chill ran up my spine. This guy wasn’t human. His face was broader and flatter, and he either didn’t have lips, or had them stretched tightly against his teeth to show off his biting power. I couldn’t see for sure, but some of them looked pointed. Others were thick, dangerous chisels stout enough to crush bone.
He was also bigger than he appeared from a distance—heavy through the shoulders and upper torso, with short, powerful legs made for carrying stuff. His arms were too long, and his hands too big. His thumb had some kind of serrated claw.
Their stolen uniforms didn’t fit because they weren’t human. These raiders were built like two-legged pack animals—which made me think of alien infantry for some reason.
“I don’t like this, X.”
“Who’d X?” The stranger backed up a step and screamed. “Help’d me, brothers. Killer man’d is here’d!”
“Well, you got that right.” I sidestepped as he fired the rifle, then I dashed close to him with my knife. The blade cut into his throat right before I knocked him off his feet and stripped away his weapon.
Blood fountained over the railing of the pier. I checked the magazine and found it fully loaded. “Finally, I get a break.”
I didn’t feel lucky as I ran into the night to find the other two non-human looters.
7
Instinct was a powerful thing. When honed by years of training and experience, it could save a Reaper’s life, even one as unlucky as me. Moving in a half crouch to reduce my profile, I crept between the small buildings on this section of the pier. There were five weather battered shacks, including the one I’d used to build the distraction device.
That didn’t provide a lot of room to maneuver. There were no stars and no noise from the festival wheel. The world was static, or that was how it felt.
Fight mode always slowed the perception of time. I wasn’t sure if it was speeding up or slowing down. A surge of adrenaline could have either effect.
The remaining two non-human looters either hadn’t come down from their perch, or they moved like snakes. Few people were better at spotting a threat than a Reaper. Living in a world of stealth and counter stealth made a man cautious. My natural obsession with survival gave me an edge when it came to detecting threats. Just because I was paranoid didn’t mean people weren’t after me.
I found the darkest spot I could and squatted next to a building. No enemies appeared, so I spent a few moments carefully familiarizing myself with the rifle—and found that none of my fingers would reach the trigger through the trigger guard.
The armor around the trigger assembly was massive, more than enough to protect the user’s hand. Inside, however, there were grooves for six fingers with only one reaching to the actual trigger—and this was narrow.
“Big hands, skinny fingers. These dudes are freaks.” I tried every finger on both hands. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I searched for a stick I might use to fire the hefty weapon. “I steal a monster gun from aliens built like brick shithouses, and they have trigger fingers like little kids.”
The sound of a foot brushing the boardwalk stopped my muttering.
“Heard’d something’d.”
“Yeah, yeah’d. I heard it too’d,” the second, older sounding voice said as it moved in my direction.
I placed the useless rifle on the ground, then eased toward the corner of the shed. Knife in hand, I listened. The first one hadn’t been a problem one-on-one. Could I handle two at once?
“Switch’d to torch’d forks,” the older voice said.
Light bloomed around the corner, along with the sound of acetylene torches. I retreated to take a look at them from another spot. The new weapons looked merciless—tongues of blue flame hot enough to cut steel.
Each of the bulky humanoids had their rifles slung acros
s their backs so they could hold double flame cutting torches. My hand-to-hand skills were as good as ever. I wasn’t afraid to get cut by a normal blade. That was part of close quarters knife fighting, but these new weapons looked like they would take my hands off the first time I made a mistake.
I really missed my Reaper blade, my HDK Dominator, and my Archangel armor…
The humanoids moved as a team, popping around corners and dominating every inch of territory they took. The double pronged torches looked more like tools than anything, but these two wielded them like weapons. They exhibited fluid footwork, good posture, and skillful sweeps of the torches that reminded me of Gregori Path.
Just a little. No one was as good with a blade, or quasi-blade, as my sword saint friend.
I circled back to my distraction device, then shut off the flashlights and removed them from the toy truck. One I slipped into a pocket. The other I carried in my left hand, thumb on the strobe button.
“The lights went off’d. He’d there’d,” said the younger humanoid.
I hurried to the corner of another building. They picked up their pace. We repeated the dance several times, circling between the five buildings on this side of the festival wheel.
Waves crashed below the pier. Sea birds cried about their own problems farther down the coast. Clouds covered the stars.
The third time we circled the sheds, I darted across the open area between my position and the wheel. “X, I’m coming to you now.”
“There’d he is’d!”
Both my opponents rushed after me, still gripping their torch weapons.
I raised my left hand high, then thumbed the strobe light. After faking one way, I rushed in from an oblique angle and stabbed my first attacker in the heart. That wasn’t my favorite target with the cheap knife—too easy to hit the sternum on the way in.
My adversary never stopped moving. Accuracy was relative. Anything I put the blade in would bleed, and that might eventually stop my opponent, but I needed a quick victory.