by Chris Hechtl
The shadow and sudden crash as the creature slammed into the roots from the side alerted him to the new threat. He flicked the gun to close quarters and backed down the hole. The creature thrashed at him through the roots but couldn’t reach. He shot a round into its chest, knocking it back for a moment before it returned, this time targeting the tree roots with its claws.
One side of its chrome face was blackened; the eyes on that side were smashed ruin. Grimacing, he put the gun on auto and let it rip into the creature as it exposed its chest again. The huff huff huff of the rifle fire pounded into the chest of the robot, knocking it back and chewing up its chest. A round severed the neck, and its head flopped down, then it's body.
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The organic radio message was a suboptimal event. Termination of both hellcats was another one. Hellcat O3465 squirted a radio report to the convoy to speed up and then moved in to attack on its own.
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Breathing hard Rick realized he was getting a little slow for his age. He remembered the radio and grabbed it. Swearing viciously when he noted the antenna was broken at the base and gone. Even if he did find it, the monofilament fiber was impossible to field patch. Pulling his pack back on, he unclipped the radio’s headset and clipped it above his right ear. He started to pull up a report when a crashing alerted him.
Looking beyond the fallen metal cats, he spotted the trees shimmer and groan before shattering to the steady onslaught of mechanical tentacles. One of the big tank-like ones paused at the first fallen cat, and then daintily stepped over it and to the second cat and his position.
The tree covered him, but he knew it offered little protection. Glancing behind him he grimaced at the other slide. It was muddy from the light misting rain but a possible fast get away. Unfortunately, the slide took some turns, and with the bushes he had no way of knowing what laid below.
Turning back to the great robot as it paused halfway to him. Its rear left leg reached back and grasped the fallen cat, and he could just make out a metal probe pierce the skull. Scooting back slowly into the slide, Rick Trapper, former recon Sarge, grimaced and then flicked off the safety on the grenades.
The almost silent snick alerted the giant robot who disengaged from the cat and turned to his position. Its body canted down slightly, and the four horn-like things on the front began to glow and spark.
Not wanting to know what it was doing, Trapper dropped the grenade launchers muzzle down to the glowing area and triggered it. The loud puff kicked into his shoulder, and the rocket-propelled grenade struck just below the glow, knocking the creature’s body up with concussive force, just as it released a terrifying beam of plasma into the air.
It recovered swiftly, and tilting to one side, one massive arm swung forward and slammed into the tree. Shaken, the tree groaned and Trapper began to edge further back. The tri-clawed gripper formed into an almost snake-like head then slammed through the roots after him, ripping through the roots as it went along. It opened to a glowing sphere, and knowing that wasn’t good, he let go of his position and triggered a grenade, slamming it into the arm and himself backward down the slide.
Tumbling down the slide, he was almost flash blinded as the gripper erupted into a shattering explosion. The tree caught fire, and he could hear a mechanical screech. A small smile turned into a grimace as he rolled onto his back and looked down the shoot. One part was almost vertical, sloshing him through a muddy turn at the bottom and down further. Ahead and above he could hear weapons fire and the crackle of a growing forest fire, despite the wet conditions. At the next bend, he got a view of the end of the slide and felt a thrill of terror.
The pond wasn’t the problem; it was the tangle grove on the other side. The tangle trees were a breach of the simple plant or animal boundary. Like a plant they grew from seeds and used leaves to process light. Unlike a plant they had fast whip-like paralytic poison tentacles emitting from the trunk and running down the sides. Constrictor vines also emitted from the main trunk. At the top of the trunk was an open maw for a mouth like a Venus fly trap, with grinding rock hard teeth. The tangle tree had some sort of intelligence, but none could get a grasp on its level.
Rolling out of the slide and into a briar patch Rick threw his arms and legs out onto the slope, trying to arrest his tumble. Catching an arm on a rock, he felt his left foot jolt into another, stopping his headlong plunge. The debris that had been loosened by his travel down the slide tumbled into the water, making it ripple then churn as constrictor vines thrashed, looking for a target.
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Damage to gripper one was at 90.4 percent. Mobility was moderately degraded. Diagnostics protocols enacted temporary fixes to terminate fluid loss and close out fused circuitry before another spark of power drained the batteries further.
The diagnostics flashed a priority to the core to report its damage and then directed it to go to the nearest repair facility. The core locked the report down with priority mission override. Thermal imaging was down 90 percent due to the fire. The organic appeared to have escaped down the hill. Termination was still a priority so it attempted the slope to follow. Three legs were still sufficient for locomotion.
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Wiping mud from one eye, Trapper felt along until he could get another hand hold. His left ankle throbbed slightly; he didn’t think he broke or twisted it, more likely a bone bruise. His right wrist had caught the rock just right and the dull throb told him it was strained, possibly sprained. Sighing, he caught his breath and rolled onto his stomach.
Glancing up he noted the raging fire against the horizon and grimaced. That tree had oily sap, apparently quite a storehouse full of it. The chrome creature could barely be seen in the smoke. With a fire in front of it, he bet its IR would be severely hampered.
Creeping along the briars, he grimaced as they cut and tore at his hands and face. His gilly net was a problem, constantly getting tangled. After getting severely caught, he gave up and pulled off the muddy mass. Pulling himself along he made it to a rock outcrop near the pond, then followed a trail around the grove, wary of any hidden tangler vines.
Pulling out a ration bar, he choked it down with a swig from his canteen then pulled out a med wrap. He grimaced as he wrapped his right wrist. It was a light sprain he judged, more from the bruise beginning to darken his forearm…possibly a hairline crack in his ulna. His left foot was a little shaky but firming up as he moved. He knew he had to keep moving; once he stopped and stiffened up, it would be hell to move again.
He kept to the trail, cautious of any tangle tree traps. Crunching and a sudden crash and splash behind him made him turn. The mechanical creature had come after him down the slope, and it had fallen into the tangle tree pond. Constrictor vines and poison vines whipped in frenzy, entangling the mechanical creature in a growing web of green death.
The mechanical creature fought back, its own mechanical tentacles ripping and tearing at the strangling vines. A pod was crushed and the tree let out an almost subsonic groan. Meter thick constrictor vines twisted around one of the legs, then pulled. The shriek of metal tearing was almost music to his ears, and Trapper paused and knelt in the shadows watching the fight.
The robot lit its gripper weapons, and water bubbled then sprayed out in hot steam. The tree shrieked and slammed a thick vine down onto the intruder, denting the chrome top and crunching mechanical parts. Another vine wrapped around the leg he had blown up and ripped it out, leaving a trail of wires and cables from the main body.
Fluid leaked from the broken bodies of the titan opponents, but neither gave up. Trying to stand with only two functional legs, the robot was continuously pounded with mace tips of the constrictor coils. Its protuberances were broken off one by one by angry coils, and vines forced their way into the holes in the body, making both creatures thrash.
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Traction had been suboptimal on the slope. When arm one had been used to carry its share of weight and the other gri
ppers released to move the high H2O content in the regolith had destabilized the broken gripper, forcing O3465 into a roll down the hill and crash. The high angle of slope forced it down faster than the mobility program had allowed for.
At the bottom of the hill it had encountered a large depression containing H2O and what it had first determined as another Octobot. The machine flashed an IFF to the other as threat protocols blossomed. Impacts on its hull and constriction of leg three forced self-defense protocols to life.
A second flash of IFF was interrupted by the threat recognition protocol. Analysis of the tentacles revealed high concentrations of organic and vegetation tissue. Realizing an error, the central processor disengaged the IFF and upped the threat protocol to 100 percent. Self-defense algorithms flashed into being, each given a different level of ram to run.
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One arm of the robot freed itself by cutting a vine, and then it turned and opened its grippers to point to the tree. A brilliant beam tore into the tree, lighting it afire. Sap boiled up, steaming in the fire. The tree screamed, thrashing vines.
Recovering from the bright light, Trapper watched as the robot tried to escape. Grimacing, he thumbed a grenade to contact explosion and sighted the gun. He didn’t think it would do much until he spotted the gaping rent down one side of the mech. A feral smile tugged at the left of his face slightly as he put the aiming reticule of the rocket on the opening and triggered the launcher. The rocket flew true, passing over whipping vines of the dying tree and into the guts of the robot.
He dived into a low spot and covered his head and the grenade went off, grimacing at the concussive force tearing at his ears. Cautiously, he looked up and noted the now torn carcass of the robot and whipping inflamed vines of the tangle tree. The robot was dead or at least down for a long time.
Turning down the trail, he pulled the wire of his receiver and grimaced. It had unclipped from his ear, taking some skin with it, but fortune had favored him. The wire to the radio pack had held, and it was still working. Cleaning out the mud he flicked the radio on and listened. At first, static filled his ear, but then the excited voice of Mabel came over the carrier wave.
“This is Mabel Wright at outpost four one. We got your message Trapper. These robots have been appearing all over the place; one took out Little John’s cabin near Sioux creek. They appear to be hostile ob…” a loud snarl of static interrupted her. “…group…of…spotted…Camber trail. They have …robots that were building some sort of base….”
He grimaced at the snarling static. His radio may be milspec, but the satellites were pure civilian crap, and his antenna was…Sighing in frustration he tried to listen to more. “…Didn’t get your location. The militia went after the Camber…base…heavy…many dead. The base was…however.”
“…Looks like they use heat to see and hone in on radio, so don’t transmit till you…range,” she said. He silently laughed at that tidbit. A little late to tell me that sugar, he thought wryly to himself.
“Looks like a few got…They may be trying…set…base…near…lake you like.” He felt a wave of annoyance. That lake was a great fishing ground, and he had found caverns of minerals nearby to tap when hunting was scarce. The minerals made great trade goods with the outposts during winter and lean times. “Doc says they are…ines. Repeat von Neumann machines!”
He hit the pause and thought. Von Neumann machines were banned by the Federation. Machines that could reproduce unguided would strip an area clean in days. Using the open resources in the caves, they could make an unstoppable army. They would overrun the militia, and then hit the rest of the planet like a locust swarm. Something had to be done.
“They have some…building that…needs water to…for power.” The lake was a perfect place for them; it was rich with resources and outside the range of the nearest civilian center. Satellites didn’t over fly that area too often, so with a few days head start they could dig in and build an army. “…Good …Trapper.”
He finished her message then grimaced. With Colonel Whatts and the so-called militia down or dead near Camber trails, he was on his own. He debated his odds and then shrugged. His greatest chance for survival was taking them out before they reached the lake.
The insect ones were the workers he bet; the others looked too specialized to be anything but scouts and warriors. He had taken out two cats and one robot, leaving one damaged cat, three fully functional ones, three tentacle robots, and the two workers. The workers had to be his main target; kill them and the others would be just helpless long term. He flicked a poison centipede off his boot, squashed it quickly, then turned to his gear.
He wondered a little at why he was doing this. It wasn’t really fair; he was just one man against a horde of mechanical monsters. He thought of his choices and realized there weren’t many. If he took them out now before they dug in was about it, turning tail only allowed them to swarm and kill everyone and everything.
The nearest star port was halfway around the planet, too far for him to hike to before the machines overwhelmed it. Even if he did get there without money, he couldn’t get off planet…even if there was a starship in orbit, which he doubted. And besides, he'd probably be grabbed and drafted to help in the defense anyway, probably under some half-ass twit who played war games on the weekends and thought it was the same thing as a real war.
Mabel would have laughed and teased him about always playing the hero, he thought. They had an on-again, off-again relationship. He favored her outpost more than any other for it. She didn’t push him, just let him be. Something that he treasured more than anything. He had even taken her out to the lake one time, and those few nights were still treasured memories he kept fresh.
Taking stock of his supplies, he bent and pulled out his pack. He had two more grenades left and three more clips of ammo. One clip was armor piercing explosive tipped; something he had thrown in as a last resort against Proto Rhinos or Karnack Rexes. He tabbed the med scanner and ran it over his body quickly. It beeped at his wrist, definitely a sprain there. Great, he thought darkly.
Sighing, he dabbed at his cuts then pulled out another bar. Chomping it thoughtfully he packed the gear; this time making sure his rifle was loaded with the explosive shells then turned to the trail. The compass implant in his temple told him he was facing east; the direction he needed to go to catch up with the robots. They were on a straight line course to the lake, but there were quite a few landscape obstacles that should slow them down and let him get ahead of them…possibly even to one of his caches he had near the lake.
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Hours of scrambling though the brush led him to the trail they were following. He estimated they were at least thirty clicks from the lake. The mist had turned into a light rain, dampening but not extinguishing the blazes. He had to admire the sap; it was pretty potent. Also useful in this situation, most likely making the mech's IR just about useless.
He scrunched down into a hollow of rocks and gravel and silently considered his plan. He had debated the idea of snippering from a distant tree, but the idea had been quickly discarded. The tree would be difficult to get down in a hurry, even with repelling gear, which he didn’t have. His training had always emphasized finding a hide with a back door, and this one was no exception. A cave was nearby; one he had explored and led to a crawlspace he could get though one hundred meters away. The exit was screened by boulders, so should give him a good escape route. The rock and fires should also screen his IR signature. Should. He was betting a lot on a guess, he realized.
The crackling of breaking branches alerted him out of his light doze. He slowly pulled up his scope and looked. They were about one hundred meters from the bend in the trail but still undercover. He didn’t have the firepower to take out the tentacle robots, but he could take out the workers and cats.
With the workers out, he could hump it out of the area to the nearest outpost and get word out to the militia to do an air strike on the remaining robots. It w
as a painful decision; he hated the idea of calling in amateurs, but necessary.
He pulled up a passive scan and sighed. The first trio of cats were acting as points, out ahead of the main body on either side of the trail. They were going slow, taking their time in a creeping stalk. The tentacle robots lumbered into view, and he grimaced. They obscured the worker robots, which were like the cat robots, in the tree lines. The point got past his position without pause and made the turn. The robots had set one tentacle robot and the wounded cat as rear guard. Grimacing at the target he fingered the safety as he thought quickly.
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The bend in the trail was natural. With one-third of its force destroyed, the force had been rearranged. Three of the hellcats were on point, searching for threats. The remaining Octobots barely constituted a hive mind. Control of the hellcats was shaky at best.
Hellcat 54B1 and Octobot O871C were designated rear guard. No threats were detected; however, threat protocols recognized the terrain as a potential ambush point. Worker robots W2317A and W2317B were sent deeper into the tree line for their protection.
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Making his decision he waited until the rear guard was almost around the bend before he pulled the muzzle of the rifle off the tree line and to the wounded cat. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger. The round sped down range and struck the robot in the right temple, boring in and then exploding. The headless robot stumbled and then toppled to the ground.
Not bothering to watch this he had already ducked down into the hollow hiding his body heat. Still beams from the robots sizzled the growth in his direction. Rocks splintered into gravel making popping sounds like firecrackers. He pulled out a pocket scope and extended the fiber optic lead over the rock. The robots had speed up; all but the rear guard were out of sight.