Rade's Fury (Argonauts Book 7)

by Isaac Hooke

  No. I saved my son. Despite what Shaw and her parents might think. If I had let those nano-machines reach his brain, he would be dead to us. Forever. At least now he has a chance.

  A barrage of hail peppered his face. Most of the pellets had become fingernail-sized or smaller by then, though they still stung. And the occasional bigger pellets remained amid the onslaught: he felt a flare of pain as one particularly large piece struck his cheek. He lowered his head, covering his hair with one hand, wishing he had a helmet.

  He hurried down the metal grill of the fire escape. He could see only twenty-five meters through the heavy rain in either direction when he shielded his eyes. Underneath it all, he still heard the subtle roar of the tornado—or tornadoes—which lurked somewhere nearby. Lightning occasionally brightened the rain-soaked street below, followed almost immediately by the ear-ringing clap of thunder.

  He was forced to pause while Tahoe, in the lead, took a moment to release the ladder that led to the pavement. Then the party continued the descent, sliding or climbing down the ladder in turns. Cora and Dora lifted Mr. and Mrs. Chopra in their arms and leaped directly to the ground. The Centurion named Grumpy did the same for Shaw. She continued to grip Alex tightly, while Mr. Chopra had Sil.

  When everyone had reached the hail-covered pavement, Rade momentarily switched to the viewpoint of Algorithm; the Centurion stood at the top of the fire escape, behind the window frame, and was aiming into the hallway. Algorithm lay down suppressive fire, pinning down the clones that had reached the top of the stairs.

  Rade returned to his own viewpoint and shouted over the comm: “Grumpy, Humpty, stay here and watch both flanks until I give the order for the other Centurions to come down. The rest of you, cross the street. Head toward the alleyway.”

  “It’s difficult to target the flanks by visual light alone in this weather,” Grumpy said. “Permission to utilize LIDAR bursts?”

  “Granted,” Rade said.

  Rade and the others splashed across the wet asphalt in the storm. The heavy rain formed a stream on the road that reached to their ankles. The bottom of that stream was littered with slippery hailstones. Rade scanned the buildings as he ran, piggybacking on the LIDAR bursts from Grumpy and Humpty to see past the twenty-five meter visibility limit imposed by the heavy rain. On his overhead map, he designated those Centurions who remained at the top of the fire escape as Fire Team Two, or F2.

  Rade reached the alleyway and then paused just inside. “Lui, with me.” He glanced at the top of the fire escape. “F2, get down, and cross to the alleyway with Grumpy and Humpty! We’re covering you!”

  The four robots leaped from the fire escape, falling the two stories to the street below and landing easily on their feet. As they crossed the street with Grumpy and Humpty, Rade kept his rifle aimed at the top of the fire escape, as did Lui, both of them watching for tangos. The hail pelted away at his rifle.

  When a clone appeared in the window, Rade centered his targeting reticle over the eye region and squeezed the trigger.

  The clone vanished from view.

  Rade and Lui continued to issue covering fire, and when the robots reached the alleyway Rade moved deeper inside, allowing Algorithm and Brat to bring up the rear.

  A few moments later Algorithm announced: “Tangos already on our six.”

  “Take them down as best you can,” Rade said. “But don’t stop.”

  Rade and the others reached the far side of the alleyway, which opened onto a pile of rubble. The debris reached all the way to the rooftop of the building across the street.

  “Get to that roof!” Rade said. “Climb the rubble!”

  The Argonauts hurried over the slick fragments. The Centurions helped Shaw and her parents, while Rade and the others mostly fended for themselves. Rade slipped three times, cutting his knee, and his arm. Superficial wounds. The cold was quickly forgotten from his exertions.

  He finally pulled himself onto the ceramic tiles of the roof. Because of the sloping nature of the gambrel design, only a few hailstones had collected on the roof tiles.

  Good.

  Rade lay down on the hard, bumpy surface and aimed back at the alleyway egress.

  The others reached the top and assumed sniping positions on either side him, while Cora and Dora huddled together near the center of the rooftop, protecting Shaw, her parents and the twins.

  LIDAR bursts off, Rade instructed the robots via text.

  Two clones emerged from the alleyway a moment later and moved into the street. The first went high, the second low.

  Don’t fire, Rade texted.

  His finger remained on the trigger, ready to unleash the laser if the tangos spotted him or the others. But so far it seemed the enemies hadn’t noticed the Argonauts. Rade suspected that was because his well-hidden team looked like part of the roof on the LIDAR band.

  More clones emerged, and the enemy group advanced cautiously, scanning the rubble, the street, and the rooftops around them.

  Five clones in total appeared, along with two scorpions.

  That was about all Rade was going to allow for the time being.

  Take them down, Rade texted.

  The team opened fire and in moments all seven tangos were down.

  More rifles protruded from the alleyway, and they were aimed at the rooftop.

  “Retreat!” Rade said over the comm. “Algorithm, Brat, some cover!”

  The team pulled away from the edge. Bender remained behind with the two robots, firing away.

  “Bender, let’s go!” Rade said, reaching the apex of the roof. He lowered himself over the other side of that apex, and aimed past to offer suppressive fire for Bender and the Centurions. “Now! Algorithm, Brat, you too!”

  Bender reluctantly obeyed, low-crawling away from the rooftop edge with Algorithm and Brat. Near the apex, the three rose to a crouch and hurried over.

  The team climbed down the roof on the far side and continued moving away like that, picking their away across the debris and flooded streets through the chilling storm, occasionally planning ambushes to strike at their pursuers when the rubble slowed them down.

  When they were almost at the school, Cora made an announcement: “The tourniquet somehow loosened along the way. I tightened it when I noticed the blood staining Shaw’s side, but I fear Alex will go into hypovolemic shock unless we reach a Weaver soon.”

  “Pick up the pace!” Rade growled.

  By the time they reached a park located upon the eastern outskirts of the school, the tornadoes had faded away, as had the hail, leaving only the heavy rain.

  “Look,” Fret said. Like the others he had taken up a position at the edge of a debris pile next to the park.

  Rade joined him, and stared across. The rain wasn’t falling as heavily, and the visibility had increased to about two hundred meters by then. Through the storm, Rade could see the devastation that had been inflicted upon the school.

  One of the tornadoes had struck the plaster-walled building, essentially cutting it in half.

  All was lost.

  His son would die.

  nineteen

  Rade didn’t know what to do.

  There was a small hope that the field hospital was still intact on the beach, but he wasn’t sure his son would survive the journey all the way back there.

  He glanced at the overhead map. He still saw several blue dots active within the school, so that meant there had to be some surgeons or Weavers that had survived the tornado impact. Perhaps he didn’t have to give the order to retreat after all...

  “The field hospital was situated on the southern side of the school,” Tahoe said. “Which is still intact.”

  That told Rade everything he needed to know.

  See, it’s not the end, he scolded himself. It’s never the end. There’s always hope.

  “What about the snipers and heavy gunners the lieutenant promised us?” Rade asked.

  “Check the map,” Tahoe said. “You can see the extra units on t
he intact areas of the rooftop. The lieutenant has lived up to his end of the bargain. I’ve notified them to begin laying down covering fire.”

  Rade rotated the map to an isometric angle and realized that several of the blue dots he had initially assumed to be inside the school were actually on top, positioned over the intact portions of the ceramic-tiled rooftop.

  “Scan the park,” Rade said. “Let’s clear any targets that might get in our way.”

  Rade swept his scope over the park, aiming for the red dots that the rooftop snipers had already marked out for them on the map: tangos entrenched within various hides. Tahoe managed to score an eye shot on a clone, and Rade got a scorpion that was crouched behind a ruined fountain. His first few shots were to the rear of the unit, and when it turned around he aimed his scope between the eyes and took down the scorpion.

  The other Argonauts terminated three other units that were similarly dug in behind benches and trees in the park.

  “Well, that gives us a path at least,” Lui said.

  “There’s enough wreckage and debris to provide cover all the way to the school,” Manic said. “We can make it.”

  Rade gave the park one last sweep with his scope, searching for any close-by tangos that had evaded their notice, then he gave the order to proceed.

  “Tangos have arrived at our six!” Lui said.

  On the overhead map, Rade saw the red dots that began to appear behind the team.

  “Pick it up, Argonauts!” Rade said.

  The team members moved from cover to cover in twos and threes. Rade went with Shaw and Cora. Harlequin followed with Shaw’s parents. On drag was Tahoe with Algorithm and Brat; the three of them fired at the rearmost tangos as they retreated, as did the snipers and heavy gunners on the rooftop ahead.

  Rade darted across the park in spurts: he weaved behind the bole of a tree, then a crumbled monument, then the wreckage of a gunship, and then the body of a laser-riddled scorpion. His feet finally touched pavement, and he neared the open double doors that led into the school. Two Gendarme Centurions stood on either side, firing at the tangos that pursued.

  “Allez!” one of the Centurions said. Come on.

  Rade raced into the hall inside. Shaw shoved past him, addressing another Centurion guarding the entrance just inside.

  “The Weavers, where are they?” Shaw asked.

  “I’ve marked the location on your maps,” the Centurion said.

  Rade received a data marker request and accepted. The blueprints of the school filled out, and the Weavers were indicated as bright green dots amid the blue of the other friendlies.

  Rade waited for Shaw’s parents to arrive with Harlequin, not wanting to leave behind Sil, then he hurried after Shaw and Cora.

  “Harlequin, stay here,” Rade shouted back. “Make sure the others arrive safely. I’ll meet you in the field hospital.”

  Rade followed Shaw through the halls of the school, barely seeing. Gendarme troops occasionally rushed past to reinforce a given area. The building shook as the enemy lobbed grenades or other missiles at them—likely a result of mechs or other units converted to their side thanks to the particle beams.

  Rade reached the gymnasium, which acted as the field hospital. Shaw had given Alex over to one of the Weavers, and when Rade arrived the robot surgeon was in the process of injecting a blood volumizer to stabilize the boy.

  Rade sat against the wall of the gymnasium, off to one side, waiting with Shaw’s parents. The other Argonauts arrived and collapsed next to Rade, exhausted. Tahoe made a food run, and when he returned the team dined in silence. Rade didn’t eat. He couldn’t.

  Mr. Chopra removed Sil’s aReal goggles and he fed her. Sil seemed unconcerned with the change in scenery, and hungrily devoured the creamy broth Mr. Chopra gave her. When she was finished, he brought her away for a toilet break, escorted by Dora.

  “Requesting permission to join the defense,” Lui said after finishing his chicken dish. The gym rumbled ominously as the school took an impact.

  Rade nodded absently. “Anyone who wants to fight, you may go.”

  Nearly all of the human and Centurion members of the Argonauts departed. Cora and Dora remained behind to watch over Shaw’s parents and Sil, while Fret and Tahoe stayed to accompany Rade, apparently wanting to comfort him while he waited for the verdict. Shaw stayed next to Alex, of course.

  After the team members departed, Rade stared at the Weaver for several moments, watching it work, but then he zoned out completely. He felt completely, utterly exhausted. He simply stared straight ahead, unblinking. He didn’t even need a noise canceler. The sights and sounds of the world simply faded.

  “Rade,” a voice said.

  Rade blinked.

  “Rade,” it repeated.

  He realized the voice belonged to Tahoe.

  Unsure where he was for a moment, Rade glanced uncertainly at his friend.

  “The Weaver wants to talk to you,” Tahoe said.

  Rade blinked again, then cast his gaze across his surroundings. Gurneys. Weavers. Surgeons. Patients. The smell of blood, sweat, and piss; the cloying scent of antiseptic and bioprinted limbs. The beep beep of heart rate monitors. The whoosh of ventilators. The moan of patients. The whir of servomotors emanating from Weavers at work.

  And then he remembered.

  My son.

  A gut-wrenching anguish overcame him. He bent over and vomited.

  “Rade!” Tahoe said. “Are you all right?”

  Rade lifted a hand, waving Tahoe off, and then struggled to his feet. He took one unsteady step. Then another. His target was Shaw, who sat next to the Weaver. His gait became firmer with each step.

  He halted beside her. Shaw was combing Alex’s hair. The boy remained unconscious on a small table. Shaw didn’t look up at Rade. There was nothing else in the world for her in that moment but her son.

  Several of the Weaver’s telescoping limbs were embedded in the stump of Alex’s arm, emulating blood vessels, judging from the flow of sanguine fluid that passed to and fro the translucent tubes.

  Mr. and Mrs. Chopra joined him, leaving Sil in the care of Cora.

  Rade waited for several moments, and then finally the Weaver addressed him.

  “I’ve stabilized him,” the Weaver said. “Alex is a strong boy. He will pull through.”

  “Did you detect signs of nano-machines anywhere else in his body?” Rade asked. “Perhaps hidden in the brain?”

  “No,” the Weaver said. “It seems your quick thinking saved the boy from any further contamination by the alien machines.”

  Rade remembered how his former team member Keelhaul had become infected. The nano-machines had seemed to congregate in his Implant, so the doctors removed it, declaring him cured. But they had missed a few that lay dormant in his brain, and the nano-machines simply reactivated at a later date, multiplying, taking over.

  Rade hoped there were none lying dormant in Alex.

  “What about his arm?” Rade asked.

  “I am preparing the bioprinting materials at this very moment,” the Weaver said. “I will have a new arm attached within the hour.”

  “Thank you,” Rade said.

  “I will notify you when the process is complete,” the Weaver said.

  Rade nodded slowly, and then returned to his place by the wall.

  In moments he had zoned out once again.

  Tahoe shook him out of his stupor once more.

  “The robot is asking for you again,” Tahoe told him. “I think the operation is finished.”

  Rade glanced at his internal clock. It was nearly two hours later.

  He scrambled to his feet and noticed that the rest of the team had returned: they were spread out along the wall, watching the events unfold.

  Bender stood up. “Can I join you?”

  Rade nodded. “How goes the fighting?”

  “We repelled the enemy,” Bender said. “We won. At least for the time being.”

  “And the storm?” Rad
e asked.

  “Completely gone,” Bender replied.

  Shaw’s parents joined Rade without asking, of course. Rade allowed the others to access his audio and visual feeds so that they could hear the Weaver’s prognosis firsthand as well.

  Rade went to the table that held his son. His precious boy.

  Alex was still unconscious, but his right arm was completely restored. Shaw gripped his left hand tightly, and she finally looked up when Rade neared. The reproach had lessened in her eyes. When she saw her parents, she got up and gave them each a hug.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Chopra told her daughter.

  “Don’t be,” Shaw said. “Alex is on the mend.”

  “He’s not awake?” Rade asked the Weaver.

  “I’ve forced a coma for the time being,” the Weaver said. “Alex will require a neural adaptation period as his mind learns to connect with the new nerve endings. He will have limited mobility until then.”

  “How long will that take?” Rade asked.

  “Neural adaptation occurs very rapidly in the young,” the Weaver explained. “Their brains learn quickly, and don’t require the usual neural accelerants necessary for older individuals. I expect the recovery to take anywhere from six hours to a day. The limb will grow as Alex grows, just like an ordinary arm. The muscles will also develop when stimulated, and the bone marrow will thicken. However, the limb may need to be replaced as the body matures, as there is a chance it will not grow at the same rate as the rest of the body.”

  Rade reached toward the limb, but hesitated before his fingers touched. He wasn’t sure he wanted to feel his son’s new arm. Didn’t want to sense the change in texture, a reminder that the limb was bioprinted.

  Finally he forced his fingers forward and ran them along the surface. The skin felt like corrugated cardboard, and was very cold to the touch.

  Rade was quiet for several moments. When he spoke, his voice was not gentle.

  “The enemy can attack me all they want,” Rade said. “They can even clone me, and send those clones in to shoot at me. That’s fine. But attack my kids? Force me to amputate my son’s arm, nearly killing him? These assholes are going to pay for what they’ve done. They’re going to pay big time.”