by Isaac Hooke
“Shields are down!” Manticore announced.
“We see that!” Dickson commented.
“Steering toward the main building!” Manticore said.
The airship headed for the tallest structure amid the crowded silos. The craft continued to get pummeled by energy attacks, with one bolt slamming right into the hangar bay. It narrowly missed the Bolt Eaters, instead chewing a blast crater into a far wall.
The airship began to careen away from the target.
“Time to bail!” Manticore said. His scout darted from the alcove and revolved around him as he raced toward the opening.
Eric and the others followed him, leaping out of the airship and into the empty space above the buildings.
In that moment, he finally gave up trying to access the alien scout’s remote interface. It was time to concentrate on the task at hand, and the coming battle.
He plummeted, tumbling as he fell. He missed the rooftop of the target building, and instead headed toward the side of the silo. He switched to Bullet Time, but it still came up fast: he was going to hit fairly hard.
Eric activated his shield to cushion his impact, and timed the deactivation just right so that he wouldn’t bounce too far from the surface. Instead, he began to slide downward along the hexagonal tiles that coated the structure; he rammed his hands into the surface, digging his fingers in deep, slowing himself down until he came to a halt. Above him, he’d carved two thick runnels seven meters long in the tiles, thanks to his slide.
“Brontosaurus, you all right?” Eric asked.
“Backpack is fine,” Brontosaurus answered.
The other Bolt Eaters were scattered along the side of the building beside him.
“Bitch is unshielded!” Slate said. “Well that’s a relief.”
“Of course it’s unshielded,” Manticore said. “I destroyed the city’s power generators with a few well-placed black holes. All these buildings are running on reserve power stored in local cells: that means no shielding. Every last drop of power is being used to keep the Essential online.”
They began to climb, thrusting their hands and feet into the tiles hard enough to form their own holds. Eric followed close behind Manticore, who had landed a short distance above him.
An airship closed in and Eric’s energy shield lit up as it unleashed energy bolts at him. He wasn’t going to last long under that barrage. The other members of the platoon seemed to be in a similar quandary, with everybody targeted by at least one of the airship’s turrets.
Eric turned his weapons toward the tiles in front of him, and he let loose.
His energy cannons melted a hole large enough to fit his mech, and he yanked his body through, squeezing inside.
“Bolt Eaters, follow Scorpion’s lead!” Marlborough ordered. “Cut your way into the building!”
Eric landed on a metal floor and scrambled to his feet. He took a moment to get his bearings. He was in an expansive, noisy room. He stood in an aisle lined with cylindrical clusters. The cigar-shaped objects hummed, probably softly on their own, but when taken altogether formed a racket so ear-ringing that he decided to apply his noise cancelers. Blue bars alternately glowed on and off at different points along the surfaces of the aforementioned metal cylinders, producing an eerie strobe effect.
“So these are part of the server farm that make up the main Essential’s massive consciousness,” Brontosaurus commented.
“I forget about you up there,” Eric said. “Yeah, you’re right. How are you doing, anyway?”
“Just peachy,” Brontosaurus replied.
“I’m sending over the map while you’re all still within range,” Manticore transmitted. His voice distorted slightly, thanks to the range, and interference from the building. “The thirtieth floor is where I can interface and attempt to take control.”
Eric received a share request from Frogger, who had accepted the map data and presumably already performed a scan. Eric quarantined the data, and ran his own scan, and when he confirmed it was safe, he loaded it into his HUD. The overhead map filled up.
“Woo-wee!” Slate broadcast. “Look at all these alien servers waiting for me to shoot them down!”
“I’d advise against that,” Manticore sent. “Every server you destroy means less data we can recover after this is done. Knowledge is power, remember. There are blueprints for all of their ships and weapons stored here. Knowledge about science we can use for bioengineering, life extension, you name it.”
“Try to exercise restraint,” Marlborough agreed.
“Wait,” Mickey transmitted. “I thought we wanted to destroy the Essential? You’re already going to use a virus, so why does it matter if we topple a few servers or not? We’re doing our part to wreck this thing.”
“The virus will destroy the Essential’s consciousness,” Manticore sent. “But the memory banks will still be intact. We can access that data, use it to advance human technology and our understanding of physics by leaps and bounds. So I’d urge you not to destroy—”
“You mean you can access that data,” Mickey interrupted. “For your own advancement.”
“You have me under your control…” Manticore said. “You can detonate my AI core whenever you please. Of course I’m going to share whatever I learn with you.”
“Oh sure, you say that now...” Mickey said. “I like how you keep mentioning how much we’re going to learn from these servers. Like you’re trying to sell us on the idea of saving them, because you know we don’t trust you worth shit.”
“Enough talk!” Marlborough said. “Move out, Bolt Eaters! To the thirtieth floor! We rendezvous there!”
Eric glanced at his map.
So, thirtieth floor.
It was located ten stories below his current position.
Should be easy enough.
He fired directly at the floor beneath him, intending to drill his way downward, but he was surprised when the weapon didn’t activate.
“Uh, that’s no good,” Eric said.
“No,” Brontosaurus agreed.
“Can you fire yours?” Eric asked.
Brontosaurus stood up on Eric’s back, using the bulge of the mech’s armor as a foothold. Brontosaurus pointed his embedded rifles at the floor. Nothing happened.
“Nope,” Brontosaurus said. “Can’t fire.”
“Maybe my black hole weapon still works,” Eric said.
“I doubt it,” Brontosaurus said. “You wouldn’t be able to use it in here anyway. In these close confines, you’d be swept inside before you could fire a dispersion bolt.”
Eric aimed the double-barreled weapon down the aisle. “The confines aren’t too close…”
“Wait, what are you doing?” Brontosaurus said.
Eric tried to fire but nothing emerged. “Relax, I was trying a dispersion bolt. Didn’t work. So all of our weapons are offline. Wait, maybe not all… good thing I have these.” He dashed down the aisle and slashed out with his Wolverine blades, cutting through an array of alien computers. Electrical sparks erupted from the lot of them. He’d sliced clean through some of the cylinders, and the upper sections crashed to the floor.
“Guess you don’t really care about exercising restraint,” Brontosaurus said. “And preserving vital scientific data.”
“Not really,” Eric agreed. “I just want to get this done. And cause as much damage to the enemy as I can in the process.”
21
Eric continued down the aisle, heading toward what looked like a circular central chamber on his map. Ahead, the aisle ended in a metal slab.
“Hm, is this supposed to be a door?” Eric asked no one in particular.
“I believe so,” Dee and Brontosaurus said at the same time.
Dee, please refrain from answering any questions unless I specifically mention your name.
“Sorry,” Dee said.
Eric slammed both hands into the bottom of the metal slab, and curled his fingers inward, forming a handhold. Then he pulled upward.
“So you’re assuming it lifts upward,” Brontosaurus said. “Like a garage door.”
“Not really,” Eric said. “I’m actually treating it like a tin can.”
He peeled the metal upward, until he’d curled it up to his waist, and then he bent over to gaze underneath.
His energy shield activated immediately as he nearly took a faceful of plasma.
Eric dodged to the side, ducking past the edge of the hole he’d formed, and the curled metal above it.
“Well, at least we know your energy shield still works,” Brontosaurus said.
“Terrible way to test it though,” Eric said.
“We also know that the Banthar units still have functional weapons, whereas we don’t,” Brontosaurus said.
“Which isn’t entirely unexpected,” Eric said. “Did you see what the hell launched that?”
“Negative,” Brontosaurus said. “Your big metal head was in the way.”
Eric extended both arms, reaching across the remaining section of the door, and crunched his fingers into the metal once more. This time he peeled the surface to the right, pulling it toward him. He stepped backward, furthering the force he was exerting, until he ripped it entirely away. Then he pressed the edge down on the floor in front of him, compressing it.
“The hell are you doing now?” Brontosaurus asked.
“Making a diversion,” Eric said.
He continued pressing down until he had a V-shaped piece of metal that was small enough to fit through the new opening he’d made. Then he switched to Bullet Time, chucked the metal piece through the gap, hard, and ran inside behind it. He deployed his ballistic shield as he did so.
Three walker mechs arrayed in front of a chute unleashed energy cannons at the diversionary metal; Eric rushed the closest, and stabbed his Wolverine blades through its force field, and into the armor of the mech within. He ripped the blade down, cutting a huge gash through its torso area, and it veered to one side, collapsing into the walker beside it.
The energy shield of that one lit up as it protected the unit from the collapse of the first. It had focused its fire on Eric, as had the third walker, and his force field flashed constantly. Before it could drain, he dashed forward and finished the pair off with two more quick stabs.
“Why do I feel like you’re doing all the work?” Brontosaurus asked.
“Maybe because I am,” Eric replied. His energy shield had gone offline—it had absorbed too much damage since he left the airship, and would take some time to recharge. He’d have to rely on his ballistic shield until then.
He examined the small circular room. Save for the three fresh wreckages on the ground, it was empty. Well, except for the chute he had spotted when he first entered: a small tunnel opened in the metal floor and ceiling.
“That must be a gravity elevator,” Brontosaurus said.
Eric approached the chute, and peered down, then up. Vertical strips glowed a gentle blue, illuminating the tunnel.
He held an arm inside, but felt no change in the exerted force. “Looks like it’s not online at the moment.”
“You probably have to step inside completely,” Brontosaurus said. “Then you’ll float.”
“Uh, that seems like a bad idea,” Eric said. “Unless you want to try?”
“Hey, you’re the one inside a mech,” Brontosaurus said. “More armor.”
“Somehow I doubt that will make a difference.” Eric turned around. “Here, let’s test that theory.”
He dragged one of the wreckages to the hole in the floor and tossed it in. The damaged robot quickly plunged out of sight. Eric heard a distant crunch a few seconds later.
“Well, so much for that theory,” Eric said.
“That could have been me, if I listened to you,” Brontosaurus said.
Eric chuckled. “That’s what I like about you. With the platoon, you’re a stony-faced, stay-away-from-me bad-ass. But get you alone, and you actually become kind of fun to hang out with.”
“You think I’m fun now, wait until we’re off mission,” Brontosaurus said.
“Oh, I remember the Brontosaurus off mission very well,” Eric said.
He started when a big shape dropped into view. It was another Devastator mech.
Bambi. She had a carbon fiber cable around her waist.
“Oh hey,” Bambi said. “Need a lift?”
“Where’d you find the cable?” Eric asked.
“I’m resourceful,” she said. “But seriously, there’s big spools of the stuff a couple of floors higher.”
“Who’s lowering you?” Brontosaurus asked.
“Mickey,” Bambi said.
Eric heard a loud snap, and all of a sudden she dropped, line and all. The ragged end of the cable whipped past as it fell.
Eric shot out a hand and grabbed it just in time.
“Mickey, the hell are you doing?” Bambi shouted over the comm band.
No response came.
“Must be out of range,” Bambi said.
“Or under attack,” Brontosaurus appended.
Eric slowly began hauling Bambi up.
And then the cord wouldn’t budge.
“You can let go,” Bambi said. “I’ve made my own handholds in the wall. Check on Mickey. See what cut the cable. I’ll wait here.”
Eric released the cord and it dropped over the ledge. He peered into the chute and saw that Bambi was drawing in the cable and wrapping it around her waist.
She noticed his gaze and her avatar shrugged on his HUD. “Might as well save it. Who knows, we might need it later.”
Eric leaped up, and slammed his fingers onto the edge of the opening in the ceiling. He bent his fingers, crushing the metal and forming a grip. He was just about to pull himself up when a barrage of energy bolts shot past.
Eric released the ceiling and dropped back down. He landed on the edge of the chute on the floor, and almost lost his balance and fell inside.
The bolts continued to stream past; below, Bambi’s force field lit up.
“You better get up here,” Eric said. “Your protection isn’t going to last forever.”
“Why does that sound like something I’d say to you in the virtual bedroom!” Bambi said.
She moved her arms and legs as fast as she was able, slowly crawling up the edge of the tunnel.
Eric doubted her force field would last very long, if the drain on his own was any indicator, so he extended his ballistic shield over the opening and held it protectively over her climbing body. Red spots began to appear as the alien material absorbed the impacts, but so far, it was holding.
And then the bolts just stopped.
He leaned out slightly, and glanced up into the tunnel. He saw another mech peering down from two stories above.
“Sorry about that,” Mickey transmitted. “Little bastards surprised me.”
“What kind of bastards are we talking about?” Eric asked.
In reply, Mickey held out an arm. In his hand was a small alien sphere about the size of a human head.
“Look like Manticore’s scouts,” Eric said.
“Yes, but they’re not Manticore’s,” Mickey said. “At least not yet. But when we let him interface with the AI core...”
“Yeah, I don’t see that happening,” Eric said.
“We have to beat him to it,” Bambi said. “Let’s go!”
Eric retracted his shield and the Wolverine blades so that his hands were free to climb, and then he sat down on the edge. He slid forward, letting his feet dangle down, and then slowly rotated his body, lowering his upper body while keeping his hands firmly planted on the edge. He squeezed his fingers tight and kicked his toes into the tunnel wall below, forming holds in the metal.
Then he let go of the floor above with one hand and slid it lower down, crunching his fingers until he formed a new handhold. Then he lowered a foot and did the same with his toes. He continued in that way, making holds as he went, until he reached those that Bambi had already made
, and utilized them thereafter.
Eric glanced upward and saw Mickey making his way down above. On the overhead map, Slate’s indicator had also appeared in the chute, about a story above Mickey: he, too, was descending.
“Welcome to the Tunnel To Hell,” Brontosaurus said. “We’re happy to have you, Slate.”
“Yeah you shut up, bitch,” Slate said. “Like you have to do any climbing, hitching a ride like a lazy-ass little monkey on Scorpion’s back.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault my mech got ground to a pulp aboard the mothership,” Brontosaurus said.
“Actually, it is,” Slate said.
Below, Bambi paused when she reached the next floor; which, as far as he could tell from here, opened out into a circular compartment similarly to the one Eric had just left.
She slowly peered past, and then immediately withdrew her head. Energy bolts shot past.
“Damn it,” Bambi said. “I’m going to have to be quick.”
She swung down, into the opening, and vanished from view. Eric heard a few more blasts, and then silence.
“Bambi?” Eric transmitted.
He glanced at his overhead map. Her indicator was still active, though it was surrounded by three red dots that were quickly turning black.
“That’s another three less walkers to worry about,” Bambi said.
She pulled herself back out into the chute, and continued downward.
Eric reached the circular compartment that marked the next floor, and then released his hold on the tunnel, dropping though the compartment, and landing on the edge of the chute to the next level. He lowered himself using the holds Bambi had provided.
Eric had only just passed that floor when the gravity vector changed, and he felt an immense force pushing him into the tunnel wall immediately beside him, which had become the new floor. He couldn’t move.
“Yep, this is definitely a gravity elevator,” Eric said. “And the Essential just rotated and amped up the gravity vector.”