“Shit!” she whispered as she acquired concealment within a maze of boulders.
Her Heads-Up Display was specially designed for the tactical units on the mission. Her heart rate, respiration, and other vitals were available at the left edge of her vision. All were elevated. She had to calm down. Date and time were there also, but she noticed a new indicator she had not seen before. Her HUD indicated it was scanning for networks, but was not connected to any, even though one was detected. No time to think about that now.
Rand found a good spot to pause as she leaned her rifle against a stone wall made of boulders. It felt very light in this gravity. She turned her ring around and activated its camera, popping open a vid window in her HUD, as she probed her wound. She took off her helmet, and she easily saw in the window that it was a superficial gash.
“Dammit, .89 gravity.”
It made her stumble when she first began to run. She was used to 2G in the outer rings of the Ventura. Falling, she cut her head on the shuttle's debris. She had never been this physically fit in her whole life. Life in 2G was the best workout.
Barcus was right.
Shit. She couldn't think about that now. Barcus is dead. They were all probably dead.
Without looking, she opened a thigh pocket in her black jumpsuit and withdrew a med spray. Watching in the display, she opened the wound and sprayed into it. The bleeding, as well as the pain, stopped almost at once. Pressing the wound closed, she sprayed it again. She wiped her eyes, one last time, with her sleeve and put her helmet on, as she moved into the shadows.
Leaving the ring camera activated, she launched its small HG drone, which was the size of a housefly. In fact, everyone called it a Fly. No one remembered the actual acronym. It ascended straight up, thirty meters to just above the boulders and trees. After performing the standard 360° orientation sweep, it centered the panorama window on the crash site.
“Holy Mother of God,” Rand said, out loud.
I cannot believe I survived that.
The shuttle had broken up into several large pieces. Many were now burning. The command module included, where she had been strapped in when the first explosion hit. She wasn't a pilot, but she knew the ships could fly themselves. She took a moment to remember the long hours in a tumble, never knowing if she was near an impact or if she would burn in the next explosion. She managed to get the emergency systems online, but the ship was half-gone by then.
She had been knocked unconscious when the ship crashed. Her personal emergency HUD implant alarms woke her. Her training kicked in. Her go bag, her rifle, and her training were all she really had. All she ever needed.
The drone video showed people arriving at the crash site. They were not getting too close because of the smoke and fires. An explosion shook the ground, ripping open another section of the fuselage. When the smoke was cleared to the side, by the wind, she saw the edge of an Emergency Module. She keyed the code into her cuff to remotely activate the EM.
Another window opened in her HUD, showing the “Emergency Module Initialization Status” and, it currently said, “Damaged. Please wait.”
Much to her surprise, the EM spun up on its emergency start sequence. “Crash Indicated.”
It moved.
Rand zoomed her helmet view in on the scene. People on the ground noticed the movement in the fire. The EM ripped itself from the wreckage. She watched as it tore off two damaged legs from the middle joint because they were pinned and crushed. It was now fully engulfed in fire, as it continued to struggle. Rand knew that the conventional fire was no problem for the Emergency Module. It did, fortunately, keep the people back. It looked like a giant spider thrashing in tortured pain because of the intense flames.
It finally shuddered free, dragging two of its broken legs. It still had six functioning legs, three awkwardly placed on each side, so it could still walk. It was designed so it could even walk on only three legs. It began to move north.
From nowhere, a man attempted to block its path, waving his arms. Before Rand could react, the EM crushed him beneath a footpad. It was an accident, but he was still just as dead.
Rand keyed in a survivor code and a rendezvous point. She watched as it limped away in the opposite direction, south, on a vector that would mislead the witnesses. There was a settlement very near to the east that she saw. The EM would, definitely, avoid it. More of its systems came online. Their statuses were conveyed to Rand as they progressed. The advanced AI was off-line. The command AI was up, but it had glitches. It would do, for now. She would have time, later, to assess things.
Just get the hell out of here, she thought. Figure it the hell out, later.
That was when she saw the man raise a familiar weapon to his shoulder and fire a burst of light at the retreating spider. Particle Burst Beam weapons?! It hit the body of the spider and staggered it. Alarms went off in her display.
Rand was decisive.
All windows closed in her personal HUD, save one. Targeting.
She cleared her cover and, a moment later, was on target by instinct; and, as if by magic, an instant later, the man’s head exploded as the 10mm caseless, cannon round sent him to hell.
Six seconds later, the sound of thunderous shots rolled over the man's corpse, sending those around him running.
The spider reached the tree line, as Rand brought the EM status in her HUD back up. “HULL BREACH” flashed in red. Rand said, “Shit, shit, shit,” with every flash, like a mantra. She watched the scene through her scope, waiting. It helped her calm down. When another man walked up to the headless body and picked up the dropped Particle Beam Rifle, she fired. The round hit the PB rifle, as he held it, directly in front of his sternum. The rifle exploded and ripped the man in half.
Fuckers. That's two.
She leaned her rifle against a boulder and shouldered into her pack, groaning. Standing back up, she looked inside her shirt and saw that she was already black-and-blue from the crash and the five-point harness.
This is gonna suck.
She properly donned her pack, over the bruises, stifling a gasp. Clipping the clasps, then checking her thigh holster, her Ka-Bar, and her machete, with long-practiced ease, she picked up her rifle and began a ground-eating run to the rendezvous point. The High Ground Fly followed, watching over her.
It's going to be a long damned day.
As she entered the tree line, the shuttle’s reactor core exploded. The shock wave almost knocked her off her feet.
***
It didn't take long for her to adjust to the lighter gravity. It made carrying the large rifle, and all the gear, comfortable as she ran. The woods consisted of beautiful, large pine trees with a thick canopy and a soft bed of needles to run on. The trees looked like they had been limbed up about ten meters, and there was no tree fall. None. Not a single twig in the undergrowth.
I bet it has all been collected by nearby settlements. That means the population density here is high. But primitive.
Her HUD displayed a rope of mist that seemed to stretch out before her as she ran. It was leading her to the rendezvous point. At the present pace, her ETA was forty-one minutes.
It took a bit longer, thanks to changes in the terrain. Elevation increased and the land became rockier. At one point, she found herself running on an old logging road, making good time. About thirty-five minutes into her run, she heard a loud roar of engines, above in the trees. It was some kind of aircraft with no grav-neutral plating.
Man that is loud.
She kept running. It took her fifty-five minutes to reach the rendezvous point. She could not believe she got there before the EM. Rand had the Fly search the clearing and the surrounding area.
“Emergency Module, do you read me?”
“I read you. Recommend radio silence. ETA six minutes,” the AI’s flat voice responded, in her head.
The EM Status window displayed a 3D model of the EM, indicating areas of damage. The third leg on the left side and the front leg on the right
side were broken. They were held up off the ground by the EM's utility arms.
The passenger’s side door hinge was damaged, as well as the air intake right behind it.
It was the two-seater model, but it would do. Minimal storage, though. Her pack would be fine, for now, in the passenger’s seat. But, the EM had no weapon’s rack.
Dammit.
She would have to find a way to keep it handy.
“Emergency Module. Window forward display.”
A window popped up in her HUD, showing the Module’s progress through the forest. The clearing was ahead. The trees were thinning out. The display was not steady. The spider limped.
“Stop at the edge of the clearing. I'll get in.”
She heard it clomping through before she saw it.
She stood up and said, “Emergency Module, I am Randall, Nancy J. Log me in. Survival mode. Hostile territory. Escape-and-evade.”
“Voice confirmation and login received. Warning: Survival mode unavailable. AI Higher Functions failed to start.”
“Never mind that now. Open up.” The body of the spider lowered to the ground, the driver’s side door unsealed and the reverse gull-wing lifted. “Open the passenger’s side.” She heard a series of muffled mechanical clicks, but nothing happened.
“Dammit.”
She reached in and pushed the pack in the driver’s side door, over the console, into the passenger’s seat. She climbed in and drew the rifle in behind her. It lay along the center console. That would have to do, for now.
“Link to High Ground Fly 421 as an external source. Audio, video and data.”
“Yes, Nancy.”
“Call me Rand. I'll call you Bob.”
“Bob, sir?”
“Yes. Bob. Fly, ascend to 200 meters and begin mapping. Bob, plot a track to the least populated area within this sector. Transfer tactical to your EMD.”
The Emergency Module Display (EMD) inside the vehicle immediately filled with the surrounding area visual. Also, there were damage report status screens, and scrolling color-coded, damage logs. There was far too much red. Only the line that read: “HULL BREACH. Seal not achieved,” was red and flashing.
“Bob, I want this to be a clean E and E. Escape-and-evade. We need to get to a safer area before we can execute repairs.”
A rope of mist appeared before them. They didn't move.
She scanned far too many windows that were open before her. Finally, she saw the problem. She mashed the ‘autopilot while pilot aboard’ virtual button and set the speed to half. The spider limped head.
“Tactical map, main view.” Nothing happened.
“BOB! Tactical map, primary view.” The map came up. AI~Bob said nothing.
The scrolling error log showed a new red line: “Error Initializing AI. Attempting Restart. Please Wait.”
Worry about it later.
“Bob, please annotate known points on the tactical map.”
Icons appeared. They were simple letters. A, B, C, D. There was also a green line and a blue line.
Sigh.
“Replace annotation A with 'Crash Site’, Bob.” She was annoyed.
“Replace annotation B with 'Rendezvous Point’, Bob. Replace annotation C with 'Current Position’, Bob. Replace annotation D with 'Current Destination’, Bob.”
“Display current speed, distance to destination, and estimated time until we reach the destination.” Nothing happened.
“Bob, for Christ’s sake...Display current speed, distance to destination, and estimated the time until we reach the destination.”
“Command not completely recognized.”
“Bob, how much faster can we go without risking additional damage?”
The scrolling error log showed a new red line: “Error Initializing AI. Attempting Restart. Please Wait.”
AI~Bob had no additional answer.
At least I am not driving on manual.
***
The Fly helped them avoid four sets of people before night fell. Just after dark, it rained, and in the spot where the gull-wing overhead door was not sealed, it leaked, almost dripping on her rifle. Rand rearranged the pack to avoid the drips. She groaned as she stretched across, feeling her bruises.
The Fly had excellent night vision and zoom functions. Even in the rain, it did a superb job locating a deserted barn. Manually controlling the arms on the spider, Rand dropped the damaged legs and let them drag while she opened the doors, drove in, turned around and closed the door behind her.
Rand opened her driver’s side door, and with the rifle in hand, dropped easily to the straw covered floor of the barn.
On her cuff control, she put the Fly in night patrol mode, so it would monitor the perimeter all night, alerting her to anything unusual. Fortunately, infrared showed only deer moving through the forest and fields. Then, she activated both the flashlights on the cuff and on the helmet to begin inspecting the Emergency Module. She was surprised to find some gouges in the black outer skin.
“Bob, I’m going to remove the number two and number four body rotator locks and central pins. When I’m ready, I’ll tell you to detach them. Please, acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged.”
After setting down her rifle, she produced a multi-tool from a thigh pocket and removed the rotator locks from the joints of the damaged leg.
“Bob, slowly rotate leg number four at joint one.” The leg turned very slowly, and when the large, heavy pin fell out, Rand caught it, but she almost dropped it because it was so heavy.
“Bob, raise your body a bit and shake leg number six.”
The leg rattled loose and fell with a dull thud.
The procedure was repeated on number two.
“Bob, can you reach both hands to number five?”
“Yes, Rand.” Its two utility arms that hung below the main body to the front, reached forward from the underside of the spider.
“Bob, I’m going to repeat this procedure on number five. But, when I’m done, do not let the leg drop.”
She took out the rotator lock and the leg rotated and coaxed out of the joint.
“Now, Bob, I want you to move this leg to the number five position. I plan on reconfiguring it so you have six functional legs set up symmetrically. Three on each side.”
“Yes, Rand.”
A moment later, the leg was in. “Now, please rotate the joint slowly until it aligns.” Bob went by the pinhole, twice. He didn’t see it.
“I’ll tell you when to stop. Bob...now.”
“Rotate seven more millimeters, Bob.”
The pin slid in. The EM turned the rotator lock tight.
“Bob, rotate 360° where you stand.”
Excellent.
“Okay, Bob. Settle all the way down.”
Bob bellied down, folding its arms in. Rand saw the huge gouges in the black surfaces of Bob’s body. One of them, torn and twisted, caused a gap along the center hinge seam, right where the leak was.
She lifted the door and slammed it, hard, in an attempt to force it closed, and out of sheer frustration.
It closed and it latched.
“Bob, is the passenger’s door sealed? Is hull integrity restored?”
“Negative. Positive pressure tests failed,” AI~Bob replied.
“Shit,” she said, through clenched teeth.
She stood up and thought for a minute.
“Bob, I want you to shut down and restart in system diagnostic-repair mode. How long will it take?”
“Duration is dependent on the types of issues encountered. Two hours and twelve minutes, if no errors are detected.”
“Do it.” Nothing happened.
Dammit.
“Bob, shut down and restart in system diagnostic-repair mode. Keep a status window open in my personal HUD, please.”
The spider settled down even further in preparation for a full shutdown. Rand picked up her rifle and activated the tactical light, setting it to a wide angle. She swept the light around the emp
ty barn to see if she could find anything useful. She found a shovel and five pitchforks. The structure was a pole-style barn, common on every colony she had ever visited. The roof was sound and had no leaks.
She manually opened Bob's trunk. The shovel was too long and would not fit. Maybe the pack would. Rand decided to leave her pack in the passenger’s seat, in case she needed something while on the move in the EM.
Rand explored the area. Hanging in an attached lean-to shed, she found a large, dusty, dark brown hide. It had obviously been there a very long time; it was very stiff. She had an idea. She took down the hide and dragged it back to the Emergency Module. Dropping the skin, she positioned the light on the rifle to illuminate the work area, after making sure the breach was open. She reached in, pulled out her pack and closed the driver’s door. In one smooth motion, she spread the hide over the top of the vehicle. After a little positioning, she was satisfied. Going to a predesignated pocket, Rand withdrew a spool of black paracord. It was a very strong, thick string. She could never really call it a rope, but it did have 2,000 kilo test strength.
Using the cord and her small multi-tool, she tied the hide to the surface of the module using the recessed loops utilized on the assembly line for the EM. After tying three points on each side, she tried the driver's door to see if it would open and close easily. It did. The hide rose with the door.
When Bob came back up, she would ask if any of its sensors were obscured. She tied off several more points and stood back to see her work. It suddenly occurred to her that the EM looked like an actual animal now.
Grabbing her rifle, she continued her search, finding nothing of use or of note. The Fly saw nothing and kept vigil.
***
Bob booted back up in four hours and twenty-seven minutes. Most of the prior glitches cleared. The basic AI came online, but there was a problem with the advanced templates. Rand put her pack and her rifle back inside the EM, already designing a ready-rack for the rifle in her mind. She closed the door and the barn fell in darkness.
“Bob, are you feeling okay?” It was the standard question asked an advanced AI.
“Nominal.”
It was the basic answer. No personality overlays or specialized programming was integrated. No red message in the error log. She might have to work on that. She remembered that AI development was her friend Chen's favorite hobby.
The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2) Page 2