The Esoteric Design

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The Esoteric Design Page 29

by A. R. Crebs


  “You the ones from the United Americas?” he asked gruffly, a cigar smashed between his teeth. His voice didn’t have the typical accent for Saray; he sounded American, possibly a half-breed born in Saray or a defector. The man also looked as if he hadn’t seen a shower in a week, his face covered in dirt and rough stubble. He was bald, a tattoo lining the backside of his head in an intricate design surrounding the military emblem of his city-state.

  “Yes, sir. You Kovacevic?” she asked, shaking the man’s large hand.

  “Yes, ma’am. You the lead of this investigation?” he asked.

  “Yes. This is my partner, Troy.” Troy signaled a small wave, his other hand gripping his weapon. Kovacevic nodded to the man. “Ivory.” She pointed to the tall, slender woman.

  “She your sniper?” he asked, eyeing the massive weapon in Ivory’s hands.

  “One hell of a shot.” Aria nodded.

  “And what’s with him?” Kovacevic narrowed his eyes–one honey colored, the other grey–as he puffed out his cigar smoke slowly, looking Dovian up and down.

  “That’s Dovian. He’s got his own tactics that he brings to the field. It’s a little untraditional, but you won’t be disappointed,” Aria stated. Dovian and Kovacevic gave each other a respectful nod.

  “Don’t need any armor?” he asked Dovian.

  “I have my own.” Dovian rolled his shoulders, his spaulders moving against his neck armor. The sorcerer was plenty capable of protecting himself. Besides, there wasn’t any prebuilt armor in the world big enough to fit the man.

  “Fair enough.” Kovacevic placed the cigar between his teeth. “Come this way. We’ve got a path cleared that will take you to the base where you will give your brief.”

  Following after the general, they filed into a large troop transporter. It was massive, painted in brown camouflage with large artillery mounts on the front. This particular carrier was a hovercraft. This made for safe passage for its occupants as it could easily float over underground mines and Jumping Jimmies–a modified S-mine of the past with even deadlier sprays that could penetrate the heaviest of barriers and armor. Even the old technology was still effective. Anything goes in war. As long as it killed enemies, it was useful.

  “What’s with all the hostility?” Troy asked. He swayed in his seat as the transporter avoided splatters of shrapnel.

  “What? This? Oh, boy, this ain’t nuthin’. You should have been here in ’83. This whole place was nearly leveled. But, we keep pushin’ ‘em back.”

  “This is pushed back?” Aria asked.

  “Heh, they keep sending in their ‘droids,” Kovacevic laughed. “Damn bastards are easy to kill, but their sheer numbers can take out a fleet.”

  “Aren’t you in the middle of negotiations for a peace treaty?” Dovian questioned.

  Kovacevic gave the white-haired man an amused look. “Son, I don’t know where you come from, but war doesn’t end. It keeps going. Sure, there may be days where things are quiet, but it all starts up again. Hell, our planet is evidence enough. Can’t grow a damn thing out there in the wilderness. Can’t imagine what fresh air smells like. All I know of is the scent of dirt, blood, and rust. Then there’s the fresh, sterile smell of hospitals. Neither are pleasant; both make you miserable.”

  “I should consider it a blessing of sorts to have lived in a time where things were once peaceful.” Dovian thought a moment. “And to know what fresh air and rain smell like. To have seen butterflies and flowers.”

  Kovacevic laughed. “You a flamboyant?”

  “Flamboyant?” Dovian quirked an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. A panty-wearer, giddy-ninny, sashay?”

  Dovian kept his stern demeanor. Aria and Troy slowly sank in their seats, embarrassed.

  “Queer?” Kovacevic added.

  That word, Dovian understood. “You are questioning my sexuality?”

  “Talkin’ of butterflies and flowers in the middle of a battlefield. I’d imagine there’d be better things on your mind.” Kovacevic gave a humming chuckle.

  “I can imagine fifty ways to kill you right now with that cigar before you even bat an eyelash,” the Sorcēarian grumbled.

  Kovacevic hooted loudly. “That’s the spirit!” His amused eyes watched the aggravated Dovian. “Aw, come on now. Don’t give me that look. Just trying to get your blood pumping, that’s all.”

  Dovian tightly gripped his staff, his jaw clenched tight. The general’s laugh slowly faded. He eyed the floor, twisting his rifle from side to side against the grated metal.

  “Naw, can’t say I ever seen a real rose, nor have I ever seen the rain, but I do imagine it was once something pretty great. But, what I want to know is…how the hell you ever experienced any of that.” Kovacevic stared at Dovian. “I get the feelin’ you aren’t exactly a normal person.”

  “What was your first guess?” Dovian asked sarcastically.

  “Well, I’ve been fighting for over fifty years, and I’ve never seen anyone like ya. Your weapon is unique, definitely something made from old technology from what I can tell. Based on your tattoos and getup, I’d say you were a soldier of some kind. And your eyes tell me that you’re much older than you look.”

  “You’re perceptive,” Dovian said.

  Kovacevic chuckled again as he put out his cigar. “My great-grandpa used to tell me stories of some great soldiers from long ago. Now, don’t call me a daydreamer, but I’d like to imagine you’re somehow related to those stories.”

  Troy and Aria glanced in Dovian’s direction. He gave a small smirk to the general.

  “Damn.” Kovacevic clapped his hands together. “Can’t wait to see you on the battlefield.”

  As the transporter pulled up to the camp, Kovacevic yelled through his DNAIS, “Get the troops pulled back for the evening. We’re going to need as many as we can get for our mission tonight. The Romas will have to entertain themselves for a few hours.” He looked at Aria, staring at her green eyes through her lifted visor. He placed his helmet on his head. “Guard yourselves; we got a few meters to go before we’re in safe. There’s a lot of gunfire goin’ on close by.”

  The door slid open to the transport. The silence was consumed by the violent, torrential barrage of bullets and mortar blasts. Aria flipped down her visor and signaled for the others to follow after her, Kovacevic taking the lead. Two steps out of the vehicle and an explosion blasted nearby, covering her with dirt.

  “Careful, now. Straight ahead an’ we’ll be safe an’ sound.”

  “This is ridiculous. You have androids all over the camp!” Aria shouted.

  Loading regular ammunition into her weapon, she fired upon the mechanized Roman soldiers that scrambled over the nearly destroyed barricades. Easily, she and Troy destroyed a dozen of the androids before they reached the metal fortified building. There didn’t appear to be any human soldiers fighting for Roma. That meant they had all been either pushed back or wounded. Droids were usually sent in as a last resort or as a means to keep the opposite side busy while they planned for the next attack.

  “In you go.” Kovacevic flagged them inside the building as he opened the door. Filing in, Aria raised her visor.

  “You think they’re planning one last attack before the signing tonight?” she asked.

  “Naw, I think the boys are just getting wound down. The Romas are probably too busy preparing a feast for the night to feed their fat asses. The fact that we’re gettin’ Dizdarevic and Benvenuto together in one room without hostility is reason enough to celebrate.” He signaled to one of his men. “I said to pull in the boys! Send out our drones, it’ll keep their bots busy for a few hours. Get some rest. We’ve got work to do tonight, serious work, too. So we need our ‘A’ game, got it?”

  “Yes, sir!” His soldier saluted before taking off in a run, hollering orders in his thick accent through his DNAIS system.

  The racks were full of men and women alike–some dressing their wounds, others playing cards and smoking cigarettes. Kovacevic neare
d the center table where a grouping of comps and vid screens were located. Plopping heavily into a seat, he rested his feet on a nearby stool.

  “Okay, let’s discuss plans for this evening.”

  “I assume you’ve heard about all the attacks around the world,” Aria stated simply as she dropped in a chair opposite of the man.

  “Sure have. Monsters galore I heard.”

  “More than you can handle and nothing like you’ve ever seen before,” she said with a serious tone. “We’re going to need a full stock of EMP arsenals. Have everyone equipped with their defensive fields. Got any Fazes?” she asked.

  “Something like it. Recipe’d up in our own labs. Shock Wave distributers.” He held up one of the devices. “Works in a similar fashion. Has a higher ricochet rate. Sometimes good, other times bad. If hit just right, you can send a bullet flying back toward the target.” He tapped the device, the item humming and then giving a large crackle as it puffed out a cloud of smoke. Kovacevic eyed the machine and tossed it over his shoulder. “Uh, that one’s bein’ worked on,” he quickly mumbled.

  Aria gave an unsure look at the sizzling device. “Interesting defense strategy. However, these creatures don’t use bullets, but it should work well enough to protect against some of the blasts.”

  “What kind of blasts are you talking about?”

  “They have a way of sending out their own explosive shockwaves. It's a little like frequency attacks. They have these large blades on their hands.” Aria pulled up a screen from her DNAIS. A hand-drawn sketch of the monster appeared before the man. Troy gave a smile. Leave it to Aria to use her drawing abilities to her advantage in war strategy. “These things, I call them Brutes, are capable of creating high-velocity vibrations that they can use as a traveling blast. They are big. Their claws are long, almost touching the ground as they stand. Once you hear the clicking of their talons, you had better move. The blast won’t dissipate until it hits its target or something gets in its way. This strategy pushes our forces back, which allows for continuous attacks and renders our ammunition ineffective seeing as they heal nearly instantaneously. Therefore, they are best taken down at close range. Render their shields useless through the use of EMPs, and get in close. Another effective strategy would be through the use of heavy arsenal like sniper rifles.” She nudged toward Ivory’s 20mm sniper rifle. “These are our primary concern right now.”

  Kovacevic listened intently, recording the things Aria said through his own DNAIS. As he listened, he moved tiny army men across his map of Saray.

  “Now these guys,” Aria pulled up a second sketch, “these are the regular guys.”

  Kovacevic gave her an amused look.

  “I call them Brawlers. They are more of your hand-to-hand fighters. They like to bite, claw, and drag you away. They aren’t very smart and don’t seem to have any tactical plans outside of search and destroy, but that doesn’t mean you should underestimate them. Fire the EMPs, and it should disrupt their shields and allow for standard attacks.”

  Running a finger against the screen of her DNAIS, she pulled up a third image.

  “These ones we’ve only come across while we were in Ives.”

  Kovacevic looked toward Dovian, chuckling quietly.

  Aria continued. “I call them Stilt-Men. They look different than the others in skin tone, having an olive-green tint. They are extremely slender and tall; their joints have the ability to snap backward. They are excellent at scaling walls, even better than the Brawlers. They fight a lot like Brawlers do, too, but I noticed they have a long red mane of hair. At the end of the hair seems to be a pointed barb. Now, I haven’t seen them use these yet, but I would venture to guess you wouldn’t want to be hit by one of them.” She shuddered.

  “Looks like a scorpion’s tail,” Kovacevic muttered.

  “Exactly. I would assume it has a type of poison,” Aria flipped the page, closing down her DNAIS.

  “Interesting. You know of only the three so far?”

  “Yes, sir. But I imagine we will run across more in the future. As we learn, they seem to adapt to make our lives more miserable.”

  “Sounds like a damn good time.” Kovacevic lit up another cigar. “Anything else I should know?”

  “The man leading the attacks is named Euclid. He is a Sorcēarian. He is very dangerous.”

  “Sorcēarian, eh?” He eyeballed Dovian again. “Just like them stories.”

  “Just as deadly,” Aria affirmed. “You can’t touch him. Everything you throw at him, he deflects.”

  “Let me handle him,” Dovian spoke up. “There’s nothing you can do to stop him. Not with your technology.”

  “He’s all yours, but I tell you what, you find that Euclid and get in a fight, and I’ll send you a whole team for backup. Badass or not, he can’t protect himself from an entire fleet of gunfire.” Kovacevic pointed his cigar at the man. “You do some of that weird voodoo shit that I can only assume you’re capable of, and we just may be able to get the upper hand on the bastard.”

  “That may work.” Dovian nodded.

  “Any idea why that asshole is leading the attacks?”

  “We’re unsure of his motive as of yet, sir,” Aria replied.

  “There is no motive other than he wants to see the whole world burn,” Dovian interjected. “This man is capable of only nightmares. He wants everyone and everything to be destroyed. He will not stop until he does so. He will not halt until I stop him.” Dovian’s eyes dimmed, darkening as he brooded to himself, lost in memories from long ago.

  “Well, then, let’s get that bastard tonight!” Kovacevic pointed at the map. “Here is where the signing will be taking place. Aria, I’d like for you and Troy to be posted here and here.” He pointed at the entrances to the building. “We got barricades already set up. You can sit up on the rooftops. I assume your armor has cloaking mechanisms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, you,” he pointed at Ivory, “you’re going to be stationed in this tower. You see anything suspicious at all, you shoot it, hear?”

  Ivory nodded quickly. The armor hid any form of expression, but Aria could imagine her face was fearful.

  “And you…” he paused, grinning at Dovian. “You are going to be back here.” He moved a large piece to a facility on his map a few blocks away from the center of the city.

  “You have a reactor,” Aria stated numbly.

  “Yeah, powers the whole city-state. It’s underground, though. After what happened to Athenia, we can’t be too careful. I want Dovian to keep watch from the tower opposite of hers. You can have a view of the whole city. Below, my infantry will take a stand, guarding the whole facility.”

  “I want you to put a team inside, too,” Aria said firmly. “Euclid can get inside without any of you seeing him. In fact, if he is to attack the reactor, I can guarantee he won’t be walking through the front door.”

  “Alright. I’ll set up a team inside as well. They will surround the core. Sound good?”

  “Great.”

  “I’ll work out the guard posts surrounding the city square where you should have plenty of backup. Now, I’m taking a big risk movin’ my troops inside the city. If, for some reason, that treaty isn’t signed, Roma will not hesitate to attack. All of my men will be inside, an’ Saray will be infiltrated.”

  “I understand, sir. We appreciate your cooperation. As such, Lebedev has agreed to have his troops back your forces up as well. Right now, as we speak, they are setting up flanks on the mountain sides. They will be here in a matter of seconds if Roma pulls any tricks.”

  “Hot damn! You thought of everything. In that case, let’s get a move on.” Kovacevic stood from his chair and gathered his vid screen. “The signing is at 20:00. Be at your posts an hour before. I will keep in touch.” He pointed to his mental chip. “Tune in to frequency 141.12. You have a couple hours; why don’t you rest until then? There’s some nice grub downtown. I’d offer you rations, but they aren’t appetizing in the slighte
st.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Aria nodded.

  “Good. I’ll be here briefing my troops. You need anything, let me or one of my men know. Just get your bodies to your posts by 19:00. I’ll send troops out as soon as the briefing is finished.” He turned on his heel and hurried across the giant hangar, calling for his troops.

  “Everyone clear on what their positions are?” Aria asked.

  “Yup,” Troy sighed. It was second nature to the man. Just tell him where to be and when and he’ll bring his so-called ‘A’ game to the field. At this point, war was as routine as tying his shoes.

  “I, I think so,” Ivory stuttered, her first words since they left Cherno.

  “Dovian will make sure you arrive safely to your post, and he will keep a watchful eye on you from his tower, make sure nothing happens to you, got it?” She turned her stare toward the Sorcēarian, and he gave a quick nod in return.

  “Oh, okay,” Ivory whispered, fidgeting with her rifle.

  Aria watched her cautiously. Something was clearly bothering the woman.

  “You hungry?” she asked.

  “Always!” Ivory beamed a little too joyfully.

  “Let’s check out the grub in the square,” Aria rose from her seat, stretching out her back. Shouldering her weapon, she headed toward the transport facility. They would ride the monorail into the center of the city–that is if it hadn’t been annihilated yet.

  Luckily, the tram was still intact and in perfect running order. In minutes, the four were in the center square smelling the delicious scents of spices and gourmet food. The city was the complete opposite of the military facilities outside the walls. The streets were bustling with people despite the air being filled with the obnoxious sound of gun and mortar fire. Aria had to admit, it was a little disturbing that the people went on about their normal lives as there was a constant battle outside their walls. It was all televised on massive vid screens throughout the city, too. Here, war was considered a game, nothing more than humans VS robots. Still, people died. And this was the way of life. It wasn’t just Saray, either. The whole world partook in these useless battles–fighting for the sake of fighting, buying companies and trading weaponry all in the interests of power and money. Businessmen owned the world. There was no form of government, only chaos. They were all toy soldiers, used in a system of corruption to fill the suits’ pockets.

 

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