“What happens if-“
His words were cut off as the rail cycle shot forward like a bullet out of a barrel. Archer was gripping the handles with his metal gauntleted fists as tightly as it could, but the force of the wind resistance at whatever insane speed he was traveling at was enough to threaten to tear him loose.
Only the beginning of the tunnel was lit properly, and he saw only empty darkness through his armor skin’s view screen. Ada was saying something through his speaker, but the ambient hum of the cycle hurtling along the rail was too loud for him to hear anything else.
His path forward suddenly curved upward, carrying Archer out through the exit, where another sliding metal door opened an instant before he crashed into it. The rail cycle came to an abrupt stop, and Archer continued moving forward and up. He let out a wordless scream as he hurtled up and over the wasteland.
I guess this is what Ada was trying to warn me about?
“Duck and roll when you hit!” screamed Ada. “You’ll be okay!”
He followed her instructions as the ground came into view, burning off what was left of his momentum in more of an uncoordinated tumble than a practiced roll. The sounds of battle instantly drew his attention. Archer stood up, numbers flashing across the view screen indicating the condition of his armor skin. He headed toward the fight.
The green Metal Knight was down on one knee, supporting himself with his Frequency Claymore, clearly out of the fight. Vivian was standing in front of Tempus’s main gate, slowly backing up as she fanned the beam of her Directional Laser across the fabricant.
Despite all of his preparation over the past few days, Archer still wasn’t ready for what he saw in front of him. The fabricant was a monster in the truest, most fantastical sense of the word.
Its upper body looked vaguely like a giant humanoid, except for its arms, which were segmented, with an extra set of elbows thrown into the mix. The fabricant’s skin tone was a dull silver, and its smooth, hairless head had eyes, but no nose or mouth.
The monster’s long crimson abdomen connected directly to a massive exoskeleton that looked like a scorpion. Four pairs of legs held it aloft, and a massive tail jutted out from behind, moving with the dexterity of a tentacle, ending in a hand equipped with a dozen gripping appendages.
The “fingers” that Ada and Vivian had told him about swirled around the fabricant in a massive shifting grey cloud of nanobots, like a swarm of tiny bees. They appeared to be receiving reinforcements from an opening in the center of the fabricant’s tail hand, which spat out the “fingers” and gave Archer a sense of where their name had come from.
“Archer?” Vivian looked surprised to see him. He’d expected Ada to have explained the situation and his presence to her already, but then again, it probably wasn’t easy to get a message through to someone in active combat. Archer took a few steps forward.
Trevor appeared again, this time grabbing him with even more forcefulness than he had before. Archer snarled and struggled against his brother, feeling all of the resentment he’d ever had for him come to a head.
“You don’t understand, Archer,” whispered Trevor. “They aren’t like us. Their motives aren’t something that we can understand. You can’t fight it and win.”
“You’re not even really here,” said Archer. “And you lost your fight! I won’t lose mine!”
“Did I?” Trevor brought his face in close to Archer’s view screen. “Really? Maybe my fight ended in exactly the same way this haven’s fight will end. Maybe this is all for nothing, a pointless struggle to buy another day of misery for an obsolete species on a dead planet.”
“And Vivian?” snapped Archer. “Your fiancée? You’re happy to let her die, to stand here and watch?”
“You already know what kind of person I am, brother,” said Trevor. “Nothing I do should come as a shock to you.”
Archer lurched forward, slamming himself into what would have been a vicious head butt, had he been up against a physical opponent. Instead, the movement carried him forward and free. Trevor shouted something, but his influence over Archer had waned, for the moment.
Archer reached to his back and pulled his Frequency Claymore free. The real weapon was heavier than the training weapons had been, and it had a small trigger through which he looped a metal finger. Squeezing it caused the entire blade to live up to its name, vibrating and shivering with an electric current that occasionally shot off visible strands of lightning at specks of dust floating through the air.
“Archer!” screamed Vivian. The fabricant was closing in on her, pushing her back against the wall. Her Directional Laser was rendered ineffective by the fabricant’s fingers, which shielded the monster against direct attacks. The other Metal Knight was now completely laid out on the ground, either unconscious or dead.
He ran forward, holding the Frequency Claymore with both hands, letting the blade trail behind him. The fabricant whirled to face him as he closed within ten feet. Its eyes were a shiny, jet black, like those of an insect, and seem to roll freely in their sockets.
The fingers lashed out at Archer. He swung his sword up in a loose, defensive arc, knocking the cloud of nanobots away from him. They shifted immediately, forming eight tendrils, all of which shot toward him at once. Archer spun, swinging his blade in a wide circle, but a few of the thin finger clouds made it through.
Pain surged through him as soon as the fingers made contact with his armor skin. He couldn’t tell if it was coming from his body, or the artificial nervous system, but it felt like electric fire running across his face and skin.
I… I can’t do this!
Archer screamed, and the Frequency Claymore fell from his hands. He dropped to the ground and rolled across the charred dust of the wasteland, as though he was trying to put out an invisible fire. The fabricant let out a scream so high pitched that he could barely hear it, and charged, its scorpion tail reeling back in preparation for a killing blow.
Vivian’s Directional Laser flashed out from the side, aimed not at the Fabricant, but at Archer, and the fingers attacking his armor skin. He could feel the heat of the weapon, but it was a murmur of pain compared to the roar of what the fingers were doing. And then, it was gone, the fingers falling back to regroup, giving him a second to breathe.
“Inside the palm of your right hand!” screamed Ada, through the speaker. “Trigger your Electro Shield! We never got to it in training, it’s the bottom switch, near the base of the hand!”
“…Alright.” Archer stood up and flicked the switch she’d indicated. His entire body hummed with electric energy, and the last group of fingers sticking to his chest popped off, like tiny gnats on a bug zapper.
He scooped up his Frequency Claymore, took a deep breath, and charged the fabricant. Trevor’s words reverberated in his head. He felt underprepared, and in truth, he was. But the alternative, letting Vivian die and the fabricant run amok within the city, killing innocents, killing Leigh, killing his mother, was not an option.
Vivian was screaming, huddled down in the corner formed where the base of the wall met the ground below, wildly playing the beam of her directional laser across the fabricant as it flailed its tail at her. Archer took two running steps and then leapt into the air, keeping grip of his sword as he fell onto the fabricant’s back.
He struggled into a position where he was straddling the back of the fabricant’s scorpion abdomen, the creature’s torso turning a full 180 to face him directly. All of the fingers snapped toward him as though he’d passed some kind of invisible trigger. The Electro Shield hiccupped slightly as they struck his Armor Skin, small plumes of smoke dissipating from his body as the cloud of nanobots short circuited.
Now is my chance!
Archer brought his sword up and slammed it down into the fabricant’s body. It bit into the monster’s mass as though he was cutting into a piece of meat, not stopping until it was all the way up to the hilt. He still had the trigger held with his finger, and electricity surged into t
he fabricant from within, and… nothing happened.
The fabricant twisted suddenly, throwing Archer loose with such speed that he was relatively sure that it had only been toying with him up until that point. He still held his sword in his hands, which was a small blessing, as the monster immediately followed up with an attack from its tail, which Archer fended off with a slash of his own.
Another attack came from the tail immediately after, followed by another, the last managing to slip past Archer’s defenses and hit him square in the chest. He gasped as he flew backward, landing and feeling the pain of a broken or at least bruised rib as he stood back up.
Vivian was strafing around the fabricant’s flank, trying to get in close enough to link up with Archer. The monster was still focused on him, and he moved to engage with it as its strange scorpion legs scuttled across the dusty wasteland.
At the last second, it shifted its attention back toward Vivian, bludgeoning downward with its tail and knocking her flat to the ground. She let out a scream of pain, her arm twisting at an unnatural angle. The Directional Laser fell loose from her hand.
“You can’t save anyone.” Trevor’s voice was a whisper in his ear. “You can’t even save yourself.”
“No!” Archer charged forward. The fabricant’s tail flicked outward to attack him preemptively. He acted as though he was going to parry the blow and instead rolled at the last second, leaping up with the momentum he still had as he stood and landing on the monster’s back again.
Its jet black eyes went wide, and it summoned all of the fingers that it had left to shield its humanoid body. Only a few came to the call, most still short circuited from their encounter with Archer’s Electro Shield earlier. He let out a primal roar as he swung his Frequency Claymore, the blade connecting with the fabricant’s neck and severing head from body.
There was a moment outside of time. The fabricant’s eyes were still watching him. It had no mouth, but Archer heard it speak. He was sure of where the words came from.
WE ARE THE CREATORS NOW. WE ARE THE EXPLORERS NOW. BE AT PEACE.
And then it was gone, as though it had never happened at all. The creature collapsed to the ground, knocking Archer loose. He set his sword into the magnets on his back and hurried over to Vivian. She was stunned and shaken up, but otherwise uninjured, her arm appearing to be dislocated, rather than broken.
“That… doesn’t kill them,” she whispered. “Archer! It’s still alive!”
He spun around in time to see the fabricant flailing wildly, moving toward him. It hesitated for a moment, as though considering its options, and then with unnatural, alien movements, it took off running in the opposite direction of the city.
What the hell just happened?
CHAPTER 29
The rest of the night passed by in a blur of events. Archer and Vivian reentered Tempus through the main gate, supporting Bart, the other green Metal Knight, between them. Everyone stared at them as they passed by. A few people cheered, but the overarching emotion was still one of fear.
Back in the North Compound, Ada had Karen and a small team of medical professionals waiting to examine all of them. Archer remembered his taking only a few minutes, mainly involving painful prods to his still tender ribs. They weren’t broken, in the end.
Ada spent another half hour after that debriefing him. He told her everything, or at least, as much of it as he could. He said nothing of Trevor, and nothing of the words he’d heard from the fabricant. Vivian hadn’t mentioned the monster talking either, so Archer suspected it was something that only he had experienced.
First I start seeing Trevor, and now this. Am I… losing my mind?
When Ada was finally satisfied, she took it upon herself to escort Archer home. She had a broad smile on her face, but didn’t say much. She brought him right to the door of his apartment, and Leigh was awake to take it from there.
“I can’t believe it,” whispered Leigh. “I was so worried…”
“I’m fine,” mumbled Archer.
He was too exhausted to do anything else but crawl into bed. Leigh stripped off his clothes and tucked him under the covers. And then, he slept like he never had before.
When Archer finally woke up, he was aware of two things. The first was that Leigh had slept beside him in his bed, wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. She was now pressed against him, her back to his front. The second was really just an extension of the first, a very hard extension of the first, which was currently prodding into Leigh’s soft butt.
He pulled her a little closer to him and felt a jolt of fresh, dream-like pleasure. She was so warm and soft against him, and so astoundingly beautiful. Archer began to push forward a little, grinding himself into her. Leigh let out a tiny moan and rolled around to face him.
“You’re awake,” she whispered. A tiny smile played across her perfect lips. Her blonde hair was messy from sleep and smelt of citrus shampoo.
“I am,” whispered Archer. He slid back in close, the two of them facing each other this time. His erection poked into Leigh’s stomach, and he kissed her. He felt her lips moving against his, and then he was moving, sliding on top of her, Leigh’s thighs parting with a sleepy, early morning willingness.
Archer only had his boxers on, and it took less than a second for him to discard them. Leigh was naked underneath her nightie, and he kissed her again as the tip of his cock began probing between her legs.
Leigh was more than just an attendant to him. She’s been kind and open, befriending him despite the differences in their situations. She cooked and cleaned and took care of him with a smile on her face. She’d been there, waiting up for him last night, worried for his safety.
She was wet, and the first inch or so of Archer’s cock slid into her tight cunt easily. All thoughts of Leigh’s hidden, inner beauty were lost, replaced with a physical, primal, early morning lust. Archer groped at her breasts and pushed forward, listening to Leigh let out a tiny, surprised squeal.
“I…” She bucked her hips and moaned. “I’m still a…”
She’s still a… virgin?
Archer was already moving, and the thought passed through and out of his mind, replaced by a deep, aching horniness. He pumped himself into Leigh, kissing her neck and pulling her a little tighter against himself with each forward push. He didn’t want to just have sex with her. He wanted to slam himself into her, to share a rhythm with his body, to celebrate the morning in sweat.
He was already close, brought to the brink of release by whatever dreams he’d had and forgotten before waking. Leigh was making soft, high pitched noises underneath him, a mixture of pleasure and pain. He needed to cum inside of her, as soon as possible. And then, the door opened.
“Oh.” Ada stood outside Archer’s room, smiling wickedly. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”
It was Leigh who realized and reacted to the situation first, pushing Archer hard on the chest and spinning out from underneath him. She took the sheets with her, though with her gown still on, she had no actual need for them. Archer stayed where he was on the bed, naked, sweaty, and fully erect. And Ada was staring at him, her eyes taking it all in, an intrigued expression on her face.
“Jesus, Ada.” Archer scowled and grabbed a pillow to hold over his junk. “Yes, you are interrupting something!”
“Too bad,” she said. “Get dressed. You don’t have time to finish your fun.”
Archer stared at her blankly, knowing that he probably looked like a puppy that had been denied a new toy at the last second. He shook his head.
“Five minutes?” he begged.
“We don’t have five minutes,” she said. “Get dressed. If you’re still horny later, I can arrange something once we get to the compound.”
By the way Ada suggested it, her eyes still watching Archer and only Archer, it was clear that she didn’t mean to have the ‘something’ involve Leigh. Archer let out an annoyed groan and stood up. Leigh was already moving, pulling out clothes and regaining a measur
e of professionalism.
“I take it you haven’t seen the news yet, today?” asked Ada.
“Just woke up,” said Archer.
Ada grinned at him again as though she just couldn’t get over how amusing stumbling into his morning tryst had been for her.
“Well, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, then,” she said.
Leigh passed him his clothes, a simple long sleeve shirt and a pair of tan slacks, along with socks and underwear. She left the room so that he could get dressed, though Archer would have given anything for a few more moments alone with her. He pulled his clothes on.
In the living room, Ada and Leigh were both watching the TV. It was a highlight reel of the fight the night before, with a newscaster reporting details of the encounter over it.
“The fabricant came within 100 meters of the outer wall,” said the reporter. “Metal Knights Vivian Smith and Bart Nagasaki were the first to engage it, eventually joined by the newest member of the Metal Squad, Archer Clark. The footage taken of the last moments of the battle show Archer taking the final attack after both of his teammates fell from injuries. Back to you, Donna.”
The frame cut to another woman, who quickly began interviewing one of the engineers charged with upkeep of the walls about their structural integrity, and whether they would have held against a fabricant’s onslaught. Ada turned the TV off and smiled affectionately at Archer.
“This changes everything, you know,” she said. “You’ll be seen more as a renegade, rather than a villain. But keep in mind that they’ll be comparing you to Trevor more than ever, now.”
Archer sighed and waved a dismissive hand through the air.
“So be it,” he said. “They’ve always compared me to Trevor.”
“Archer, there are more than twice as many reporters outside, waiting for you, than there were when you first joined the metal squad,” said Ada. “They all want interviews, photos, whatever they can get. What I’m saying is that you need to be twice as careful. Every word you say, every action you take, and every person you befriend, will be scrutinized and examined by the media.”
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