by Andy Remic
I pushed on, my SMKK solid and real, Emmy alive and real and close by; the darkness was complete but I knew my way, realised I had been here before on a Leviticus 20. I swerved left, pounded away from the open shit canal and down past a group of high buildings, their interiors burnt and black and devastated, their high brick walls just shells and mockery of a former glory. I stopped. Listened. More yapping, clanking, yakking, fukking bastards would not lose me and I had not the tech nor compu knowledge to remove myself from their scanners.
I ran on, k legs pounding, and headed left down very narrow alleys. They criss–crossed, a maze of thin streets filled with dirt and the occasional corpse. This area was a real dangerous area – the Old Dregs – and was terminal even for SIM with heavy HTank backup and I kept very alert with my SMKK locked and loaded; I stopped. There, a factory. I could not run for ever. I had to make a stand against my hunters. I needed some form of castle, a fortress – something to defend. I was outnumbered, and when outnumbered one needs a tactical advantage. Especially against mech dogs.
The factory, an old timber processing plant, was heavily boarded; I ripped down some corrugated iron, then squeezed inside and dragged debris back over the entrance. Inside, as my eyes clicked and adjusted to the gloom, I could see great heaps of rotten timber. Sawn planks, different thicknesses, lay abandoned on rusted metal rails; I heaved some planks free and boarded up the inside of the entrance.
I moved around, learning the shape of the factory. Oil– stinking groups of old abandoned machinery loomed like prehistoric dead metal creatures. My eyes clicked. I tested for power at a p–source, and it still echoed true; and so, moving to a heavy industrial circular saw I switched on the power and a hum echoed in the back of my mind and the motor whined and the wheel moved and teeth flashed, rusted but still terrible and dangerous. I smiled, smiled despite my pain and switched off the motor. Then I checked the massive blade for solidity, and its titanium teeth were still deadly enough despite long-time abandonment. I moved away, heaved lengths of timber and blocked off one corridor leading to the wide factory floor.
Then I was ready.
Ready for battle...
It was very cold and Emmy miaowed from the hard case. With battered hands I clicked open the lock and peered in. Emmy looked up at me, her whiskers poking out from the case. I restrained her with a shhhhh.
‘You cannot go wandering, Emmy. This is a dangerous place now. I must protect us. I must sort this bastard out.’
Emmy miaowed, and as she turned her head I caught a glimpse of green. I was startled; truly startled! ‘Fukk,’ I hissed and my breath steamed cold in the dark ice air. But then an explosion of noise made me snap shut the case and slide it under a thick pile of rotting, wood–stink timber. And all thoughts of colour were banished in an instant...
I moved fast, for I heard their metal claws on the concrete floor and they came in a blur, glinting bronze, their eyes created from flashing jewels and my SMKK was up, bullets screamed but their armour was good – better than mine and there were four and I leapt, one hand ramming into the jaws of the lead mech dog and my free hand grabbing its back leg and wrenching it wide – I lifted, tensed, and heaved, and the mech dog flew through the air howling and smashed against a pile of thick heavy timber which toppled down atop the metal body, crushing alloy and twisting limbs. The metal dog began to whine and whimper, a pitiful sound but I was running, across the factory floor and leaping machinery in my path; the three remaining dogs came on, dodging around machinery and hot on my trail with their metal paws clashing on concrete and I leapt a machine, my k legs hissing, grinding, pounding as I landed, whirled, looked straight into the jewel eyes of the lead mech dog which leapt towards me fangs bared and drooling and steel teeth clashing, and I hit the power button and the circular saw sang a beautiful high–pitched song of death and promise, and the dog saw too late and was caught across the teeth, ripped open with a scream of metal on metal on metal and grinding hot death. Thick oil splashed up my face and armour and stank black a dead stink; the mech dog landed with a thud and with severed panels and metal tendons like spaghetti, and I was already moving, grabbing another mech dog and forcing the thrashing, snapping beast onto the titanium saw that whined and hissed and snapped teeth on the mech dog’s armour. More hot oil splashed my face and the mech dog was sliced open and apart and asunder, squealing, and sent spinning off to the ground where it crawled around in a severed circle and then was still. The final mech dog crouched, tense, wary, its jewel eyes watching me. I fired rounds from my SMKK and it leapt in a burst of violence, I ducked and spun around, catching the dog above my head and ramming it down onto the saw; there came a terrific smash and a shower of bright white sparks and the saw whined to a sudden ringing halt; dead. The dog scrambled to its feet, muzzle snapping, one of its rear legs mangled by the machine.
My mouth was dry. It was no–longer cold in this frightening place.
The dog circled me, slowly, dragging its damaged metal leg. I turned, following the beast with the barrel of my SMKK. But I did not have long, did not have much time to play these games – soon the Battle SIMs would arrive and there would be far too many, too many to kill. I jerked right, but the howling mech dog leapt in my path and advanced... it leapt, my SMKK came up thundering bullets into the dog’s steel belly and then fangs were on my wrist before my throat and I could smell hot–oil stink as we crashed back to the ground beside the other mangled metal machine dogs. The fangs were tight, grinding, and with a snap one pierced my armour and pain screamed up my arm as it compressed through flesh and into the bone of my wrist. I started to punch the dog in the head with my free fist, but the beast was oblivious to all blows. Its legs and claws scrabbled against my body but thanks to Sullivan my armour protected me and I dragged myself back, my wounds screaming pain and blood flowing free from my arm where the dog was locked, an insane metal beast with no emotion. I brought up my k legs, wedged my knees beneath the heavy steel rib–cage and exerted pressure; the dog started to thrash its head but would not let go, as if it had a bone, which it had, and we were pinned – stalemate – and this was fukk and I exerted more pressure but the bastard’s fangs were in my arm and another steel needle popped through my armour and down into my bone and a flash of orange flickered in my mind in agony and I was feeling colour without mandrake and the pain was great and this was not fukking good.
I needed my SMKK. I had dropped the weapon, and could not see it past the bulk of the attack-panicked thrashing dog. I started to punch the beast once more, then sliding out an exo–s needle I inserted it under the dog’s jewel eye and with a great deal of force managed to prize out the eye which spun off, glittering, into the cold darkness. The dog howled but did not relinquish its grip, the bastard, and I could not reach its other eye. Instead, I heaved the needle into the mass of micro circuitry beneath the opaque film where the eye had once sat. The mech dog shuddered, and suddenly went still.
I was panting. Hot. Filled with rage. I breathed deep. Tried to relax my panic. With great difficulty, I managed to lever apart the stiff fangs and I felt steel pincers withdraw from my bone with grinding friction. Blood rolled under my damaged armour and my Niobium pack started to make strange hissing sounds. Not good. Not good at all.
I retrieved my SMKK, and stepping over the mangled remains of sliced mech dogs and wrinkling my nose at the hot–oil stink, I moved back to Emmy and retrieved her; under the heavy pile of timber the damaged, wounded mech dog was still whimpering and howling in a pitiful way, and moving back I hid behind a high barricade of rotting timber.
Grimly, I waited...
The Battle SIMs were cautious; obviously they had been informed of the numbers I had killed. But they were also foolish – if they did not hunt me, then I would have no need to extinguish their souls. If they did not come after Emmy, I would have no reason to take their lives... but no, they came on and on and on, and I could see no end to the tunnel, could see no daylight at the end of the darkness. This was Catch 22,
I was trapped in a situation with no escape.
How long could it go on?
How many SIMs could I kill? Before they killed me?
And then Emmy?
I shuddered, and fired three bullets into the head of the lead Battle E that poked through the opening. He was catapulted backwards in a spray of blood; disappeared to leave a square of black dark emptiness.
I waited, eyes alert, softly clicking.
There came a quiet whoosh and my eyes tracked three canisters; with a curse I fled the barricade as lethal toxgas ejaculated from pressurised grenades and my k legs pounded towards nearby wooden steps. I moved up, looking for an exit from the factory, but there was none. I was fukking trapped inside, inside the factory’s belly, and this was it and I was very cold, for I could not escape now and stupid, stupid stupid, I had allowed them to corner me and there were just too many of the bastards, just like the fukking mice infesting me and making me all bothered.
I heard them, with masks, moving below and I waited at the head of the stairs; several old giant factory machines from below poked up through the floor timbers of this level, like errant rotting metal teeth, and allowing me some visibility; I saw bulky dark shapes moving below in the gloom. I sent a few rounds through these slots and heard the slap of punctured flesh, and the shapes avoided the openings from then on.
The distant, howling mech dog went suddenly quiet.
Now, all was in silence and I hit my last adrenaline injecto. It felt good, but started to fade almost as soon as I had pumped. This was not good... I needed narco now, now when the end was about to come, when death was here, the end and final hot smashing metal in my face!
An idea came to me, then. To hide, to take Emmy and find a dark place and curl up and protect her with my own body, my own shell; my armour and my flesh would give protection to this poor little animal I had condemned. If only I hadn’t brought her back from the dregs. If only I hadn’t grown so fond of her! If only she had left me, and returned to her natural hunting ground.
If only...
Cunt.
They were on the stairs. I fired a few shots and then ran, pounded across the boards and up onto the next level; it was even colder, and as black as the blackest, starless night. And even though I was rising, even though I was ascending I felt like I was rising into the pit; of darkness, and of despair. A contradiction of reality. A contradiction of essence.
I crouched behind a mammoth iron monstrosity; fukk only knew what function it had had in timber production decades or centuries earlier, but it was large and had thick iron–slab supports and would protect me from bullets, that much was good.
I crouched down, pushed the case holding Emmy into an iron recess deep inside machine, and I waited.
Waited...
*
Mission D stood there, looking down at me, his face filled with pain, blood dripping from his frame. ‘It’s your fault!’ he managed, his voice bubbling, words full of spray, blood drooling thick with saliva from his maw. ‘You fukking failed, Jus – but I don’t hate you’ – he coughed heavy, and I was covered with more of his blood... with my WarBruv’s blood – ‘I don’t hate you...’
‘How?’ I managed, feeling a sudden fear rising hot hard in my belly and my SMKK was already coming up as 5Ts surged through the breech and I triggered the distant mines. I saw bodies flung high and far, ripped apart by steel and powder.
‘How did I fukk up, Mission? How?’ I screamed and heard the hiss of rockets, saw Mission with blood on his teeth and his body hitting the ground hard, and those final moments as I dived across him and the world exploded in fire and hail and energy and ice... all was noise and pain and hot fire bastard, and the clicking of mech eyes clicking click click click long into the night through realms of wavering unconsciousness... and awaking, looking straight into Mission’s face with its cold dead stare and blood–blackened teeth, and knowing it was my fault, all my fukking fault. Hands grasped me, heaved me up, spun me around delivering hard violent injections with speed and viciousness – and below I could see a thousand 5Ts swarming through the smashed barricades, and the Battle of S–Tellan Fall was lost, Mission D was dead, and I was all alone and all alone and always, always alone.
*
My eyes clicked open. I held my breath. How was that possible? How was it possible to fall asleep in the middle of a combat situation? I knew the answer – every Entropy Vet knew the answer. Fatigue, exhaustion, mixed with fukking narco... the bane of every soldier!
Something had awoken me. But how long had I been sleeping? Ten seconds? Twenty seconds? A minute? I checked my weapon in silence, then peered very slowly around the iron machine bulk which guarded me.
My eyes clicked.
And I saw her.
She was stood with arms loose by her sides, no weapon in her hands. She was as beautiful as she had always been, her eyes downcast, her bearing submissive; and she was... listening.
I moved to my knees, eyes scanning all around.
There were no other SIMs present...
Just her. Just Snow.
So, I thought, they have sent their finest for the kill. For the terrible hunt!
Clever. Clever!
I moved out into the open, my gun held loose but still ready; I checked the windows and hiding places – it would be no fun being hit by a sniper – and then moved on forward, an uneasy feeling and cold dread in my belly, and my shoulder screaming over and over and over, and a strange piercing pain in my head.
She looked up, mech eyes clicking. Her voice was as soft as drifting flowers. ‘Why did you do it, Jus? Why did you break GOV LAW?’
‘I did not break their LAW,’ said I. ‘It was GOV who broke mine. They fukked with everything, and they had no right to. They condemned my cat, Emmy, and they condemned me without trial.’
‘I have been sent to talk to you,’ said Snow, voice melancholy, and I could not read her expression. But the lack of a weapon gave me more confidence and I moved a little closer, my eyes tracing the gentle curves of her figure, such a wonderful powerful figure; and yet so deadly in combat. ‘I have been sent to talk you down. To bring you in. To halt this madness.’
‘I am not going anywhere,’ said I.
‘You must,’ she whispered.
‘No.’
‘It is LAW,’ she said.
‘You will have to kill me,’ I growled, regretting the words even as I spoke for mere hours earlier we had shared hot hard violent sex and it had been good, fulfilling, wonderful, ecstatic. I had thought I felt a special bond between us reaffirmed. I thought our love was grown.
‘You know I can do that,’ she said, her voice dangerous, and soft.
‘Come with me,’ I said, suddenly, bleating like an electric sheep. ‘We will flee together! Leave State! There are many places we can go and hide; nobody will be able to stop us together. We are well armed. We are powerful! Killers! And we have our love... we will be invincible!’
Snow shook her head, and I caught a sudden flash of blond. Her hair! I could see the colour...
‘It cannot be like that,’ she said. ‘It can never be like that. I loved you once, and we shared sex. But I am a top assassin. I work for GOV. I obey LAW. I am a SIM, Jus. And you are SIM. And there are no in–betweens; no grey shades. You either obey LAW, or you break LAW, and you have stepped outside the arena. You have crossed the barrier. However, unfortunately you are on the wrong side, Jus. You are on the bad side of the wire.’
‘You are wrong,’ said I, and now my voice was cold, hard, brittle like fused glass. She had spurned my love. She had turned me down. She no– longer wanted or needed me. Therefore, she was enemy. Therefore, she was viable target. My finger closed on the SMKK trigger. My focus locked on her forehead.
‘I am not wrong,’ she said, moving forward. ‘You must come back with me, Jus. You must face Trial. You must be Judged. You must obey LAW.’
‘That is dreg,’ snapped I. ‘GOV have no right to judge me, they are scum, they are pep. W
e are scorned, Snow. We are SIM and the peps abuse us, they belittle us; to peps, we are less than human, to peps were are worse than fukking rebs – for at least rebs were not umbilicated, were not implanted pre–birth and fukking grown like vegetables. We are different, Snow. Can’t you see that? We are just different.’
‘You are a different person to the Justice D I once knew and loved,’ said Snow, and she smiled softly now, her face lighting up as if with joy. And that was dangerous. My finger faltered on my trigger. ‘If you can justify to me the deaths of fellow SIMs then I will let you walk free. I may even come with you. But if you fail then you must come back for trial.’
‘This is farce,’ said I. ‘By your own words you are appointing yourself judge.’
‘Justify your actions,’ she said.
‘No,’ I said.
‘Justify,’ she said.
‘Get to fukk,’ I said.
Our mechanical eyes met, and for a moment I think there was an understanding there. No more words were spoken. Nothing moved... and then Emmy miaowed from her hiding place and my gun came up fast and bullets roared but Snow was already moving...
Bullets skimmed her armour, but she was so incredibly fast. Her fist smashed my face and I was stunned, fell back; her kick took the SMKK from my hands but I smashed a heavy punch to her heart, and she staggered back, choking –
Battle Es appeared at the door, guns primed, eager for a kill.
‘No!’ screamed Snow, holding up her hand to them. Then she turned back to me.
Her face was red, and she was in terrible pain from my blow. But she smiled, and her teeth glinted in the gloom.
‘He is mine,’ she murmured, and the cold turned to ice.
I did not advance. Snow was good, I knew; but I had not seen her for many, many months, and I knew not what new skills she had acquired.
She stepped towards me, a dancer in the darkness, and then she ran and leapt, and I dodged, moved backwards with wary eyes. She took up a fighting stance and my mech eyes clicked on my SMKK which had skidded against the far wall.