Cloneworld - 04

by Andy Remic

  "You're just one big, happy family, aren't you?" said Pippa.

  Outside, sirens suddenly started shrilling through the snow. Thousands of engines fired up, and Pippa groaned inwardly; the attack was now in progress. Even if they wanted to, how could they stop a whole invasion taking place?

  "We must leave," said Pippa.

  "No," said Teddy, backing away. "After the slaughter. After the wargames. After Clone TV has had its moment of glory! After... we have won."

  Franco got the unwritten signal from Pippa. He'd worked combat missions with her for too many years not to know when impending violence was on the cards... he could sense her tension, and knew, just knew when she was going to explode. When she was lied to. When she was cheated. When she was betrayed. Times like now...

  Outside, a thousand massive infantry SLAMs lifted off, jets roaring and turning the snow to mush. On the long road to the sea, convoys of tanks and mobile guns started off on churning tracks. Five hundred choppers fired their engines, and with rotors whumping, rose high into the snow-filled sky above The Teeth. Outside, the army moved. The army flowed... a huge black and green steel beast, with no head and no heart and no soul.

  This wasn't battle.

  This was extermination.

  Pippa kicked herself forward, an abrupt movement, hindered by her bound hands, but fast enough to catch Teddy Sourballs off-guard. The woman stumbled back, Pippa hurtling at her - but Ziggurat got in the way. The small hunchback threw himself between them with a hiss, and Pippa bounced from his surprisingly solid frame, recovered, and snapped off five quick kicks to Ziggurat's body and arms. He took each blow with a stoic grunt, then lifted his head, grinning at her with lop-sided jaws.

  "Want to play, little girl?"

  "Want to die, little hunchback?"

  "Well, I want to kill you," nodded the naked Ziggurat, spreading his arms wide. The pulse flew past Pippa's head as she went into a fast dive, and exploded against the wall behind her. Computer equipment, alloy panels and boards flew out in all directions, scattering sparks as they went. Smoke curled from the shattered equipment. The roar of the pulse deafened Franco, and he coughed on raw smoke.

  Franco moved forward now: him to one side, Pippa, regaining her composure, to the other.

  "What's his deal?" snapped Franco.

  "Let me show you," said Ziggurat, and slapped his hands together, pointing them at Franco. Franco was picked up with a shout and tossed across the stone room. He plummeted through banks of computers and hit the wall, sliding to the floor behind a bench, groaning and trickling blood from his ears.

  "He wasn't fast enough," said Ziggurat.

  Pippa started to back away.

  "Squawk!" squawked Polly, in the corridor outside. Her wings flapped, and she lost a green alloy feather. "Everybody's getting away! They're going to kill all the orgs! On live TV! It's not fair, squawk!"

  "Help me out here, then!" hissed Pippa, eyes still locked on Ziggurat.

  "Bugger that!" squawked Polly, and flapped off through the smoke.

  Ziggurat was moving forward, Pippa moving back on balanced heels. But she only had a few seconds before he closed her in, locked her down, and did what he was going to do...

  "I thought you still needed me? In case things went wrong."

  "Change of plan," said Ziggurat, lifting his hands up in the air. Bands of blue-white electric danced from palm to palm, and Pippa felt the hairs on the back of her neck and arms stand up as a truly awesome charge was built, fizzing and crackling, into something quite extraordinary...

  Around the room, metallic items started to vibrate. A cold wind whipped in from the corridor down which Sourballs had fled. Pippa's hair streamed out behind her. Ziggurat was standing on the spot, naked, his whole body now infused with power, with raw energy, and he was drawing it not just from his hump storage unit, but from every power source in the room. In the Monastery!

  "Time to fry," Ziggurat smiled, a narrow cruel smile, his green eye and his yellow eye fixed on Pippa without emotion, without compassion, without empathy.

  Ziggurat was not a man who nurtured regret in his soul.

  All he held was hatred.

  And power...

  His hands came together in a sharp vicious sweep, and Pippa hissed...

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BATTLE TV

  Franco lay in a hell-hole, his head spinning, copper blood in his mouth, wasps in his ears, fur in his throat, a steel timpani band thundering in his heart, which threatened to crawl up his throat and puke itself onto the stone floor. He coughed up a chunk of phlegm as big as his fist, and spat it on the floor, which twisted inside-out, turned into a rubber monster and tried to swallow him. Franco resisted the pull of the liquid floor, and his hands glooped upwards as he realised he was on his hands and knees, and that was a position he never wanted to suffer. Submissive. Taking it like a dog. No way! Franco fought through the sparks and crackling energy, and lifted his head above the parapet of fallen, battered computer consoles. Pippa was backing away from Ziggurat, who was capering like some comic devil, his little todge swinging for all it was worth.

  Still swimming through treacle, Franco cast around for a weapon, and found a long shard of jagged crystal from inside one of the smashed computer systems. He tested it against his palm, and it drew blood. It was sharp as a razor. Franco grinned. This'll do nicely!

  He watched for a moment, mesmerised by the growing charge as Ziggurat gathered his energy in order to Holy Shit, in order to fry Pippa like a fried egg! Franco's arm snapped back, and just as Ziggurat's hands came together Franco launched the makeshift dagger as hard as he could. It slammed through the air, end over end, and a split-second before Ziggurat's hands connected, before he sent the charge of dark energy blasting across the stone room, the crystal dagger pierced his eye, cleaving through to the brain.

  His hands connected with a snap as he reeled back in sudden pain and disbelief, a shrill scream on his spittle-flecked lips.

  "Aha!" shouted Franco, punching the air.

  Big mistake.

  The bolt of energy crackled and howled across the chamber, and clean removed Franco's arm at the elbow. For a long, long time Franco stared at the stump, his mouth hung open like a dead donkey's, and there was no pain, and no blood, and he just stared, uncomprehending, as the world howled around him and electrical static discharged, crackling, on every metal surface in the chamber.

  Then reality caught up.

  Pain lanced up Franco's arm in a smashing wave, like a storm sea against a brittle glass shore, and there was no blood because the limb had been removed by hot blue energy, cauterising the stump. Pain beat him like a hammer. Agony washed him in molten lava. Franco crumbled to his knees, his good hand cradling his elbow, as a scream bubbled up in his throat and spewed like vomit droplets into the air...

  Pippa lowered her hands, blinking. Ziggurat was on his knees on the floor, swaying, sobbing, the dagger in his eye socket and blood running down his lop-sided face. Even as Pippa watched, he reached up to the length of crystal, touched it, screamed, and dropped his hands as if stung. Pippa's looked right, her head moving like pouring honey, and blinked at Franco. His arm had gone. Vaporised. He, too, was rocking like a baby...

  Priorities.

  Pippa climbed to her feet. She didn't remember falling to her knees. She walked unsteadily across the chamber, the air crackling around her, the hairs on her head rising in the static, and she broke into a run as she approached Ziggurat, whose single yellow eye watched her through waves of pain, and his hands came up - No! - but it was too late, as with a snarl Pippa leapt atop him, throwing him onto his back, and his hands scrabbled at her and she knew, knew the fucker would have disintegrated her into component atoms with his weird dark energy blast. Well, he wouldn't do it again. She fought past his struggling hands, and grasped the crystal deep in his eye socket. "Why hasn't this killed you, motherfucker?" she hissed, her mouth close to his, and she leant her weight on the make-shift dagger. She f
elt it ease in further, into Ziggurat's eye-socket, into the pulping brain beyond.

  "No!" he screamed, "No! Have mercy! Please, have mercy!"

  "Why? You never showed us any!"

  "Let him live," said Franco, voice hoarse, and Pippa turned fast, head slamming round, eyes narrowing.

  Franco was swaying, face pale, vomit on his shirt, his right arm gone at the elbow. His free hand was supporting the wounded limb as if cradling a newborn child, and he was panting, haggard, injured beyond repair. His eyes had a haunted look Pippa had seen before - like when somebody's worst nightmare had just come true, but realisation hadn't quite sunk in yet. And this was up there for Franco, she knew... up there with losing his eyes, or his legs. Ironic, considering he was trained in the detonations business, where loss of limbs was almost mandatory...

  "Why?" she snarled.

  "Leave him!" bellowed Franco, dropping to one knee, then pulling himself raggedly back to his feet.

  Pippa shook her head. "I can't do that," she said, voice simple, eyes bleak. She yanked out the crystal with a scloop of punctured eye jelly and pulverised, mashed brain.

  "He's defenceless," said Franco, groggy, swaying.

  "Good," said Pippa, simply, and drew the sharp crystal across Ziggurat's throat. Flesh peeled back like neatly pared chicken, and the blood spilled in a thick gush, spreading across the floor as Ziggurat thrashed on his hump and Pippa held him down, her hands pinning his arms, her strength working against his spasming as slowly, slowly, Ziggurat died.

  And then it was done.

  Pippa stood wearily, and stared down at the corpse. She spat on it, then turned to Franco - rushing to him just as he collapsed. "Shit." She hauled him to his feet, and gave him a vicious hard slap across the face. "Stay with me, soldier!"

  "Ha! I ain't going nowhere, bitch," he said, voice hoarse.

  Pippa took the stump of his arm gingerly and examined the amputation. The blast had indeed cauterised his flesh, sealing the severed artery and blackening the stump as effectively as dipping it in a bucket of boiling tar.

  Outside, more fighters and jets and SLAMs were lifting into the heavens. The stench of exhaust fumes came in through the bars. Soldiers were cheering. Engines revved, belching and screaming, metal on metal in sumps of oil. It sounded like Hell. It sounded like war.

  "Come on!"

  "Where're we going?"

  "I have an idea."

  They staggered from the stone room, Pippa stepping on one of Ziggurat's flopping dead hands, and into a narrow corridor. "They must be here somewhere," she muttered, and saw the doors leading off nearby. She moved to one, throwing back the thick bars. It was empty. The next held Queen Strogger and Anklebolt. They were wrapped in cunt_wire, immobile and scowling in the dusty gloom. Pippa stared at them, at the squirming, gleaming, constantly moving, biting wire.

  "How do I get that off?"

  "Ziggurat. He'll have a sonic screwdriver. That'll have the frequency."

  Pippa leant Franco against the wall, and he waved weakly with his stump. "I'd give you a high-five," he coughed, "but looks like I ain't into that camaraderie-type shit anymore."

  "What happened?" said Queen Strogger, eyes narrowed, lips drawn and gleaming, oil-smeared, chrome teeth shining. She was in constant pain, Franco realised. They didn't call it cunt_wire for nothing. It was a constant pain in the cunt... Even if you didn't have one.

  "Ach! Ziggurat. 'Tis only a flesh wound. It'll heal. When I'm in Hell. Haha."

  Pippa returned, holding what looked like a cross between a vibrator and a pistol. Queen Strogger read out various settings, and Pippa rotated the dials on the screwdriver's barrel.

  She pointed it at them, and suddenly the cunt_wire went rigid, then flopped away. Queen Strogger and Anklebolt kicked their way free of the useless mass, like a nylon web, and stood, both with hands on hips, both with attitude.

  "You in pain, soldier?" asked Anklebolt, her metal face mashing and shifting like cogs in a gearbox.

  "Ach, don't you worry you none about my little arse." Franco was breathing heavily, face corpse-grey, eyes waxen and dull. "I'll be reet and dandy." His bravado knew no bounds. Nor did his stubbornness.

  "Come here," said Queen Strogger.

  "Eh?" said Franco, blinking, his eyes closing, then opening, then closing, then opening...

  "I can help you."

  "Er, you can?"

  "Come here."

  Pippa moved to Franco, and supported him as he walked over to Queen Strogger. In her torso, about where her belly button should be, an opening went schlup. To Pippa, who wasn't an expert in these things, it looked like a vagina. The puckered walls quivered, gleaming pink and wet. Pippa shivered. It just wasn't right...

  "My Battlefield Repair Unit Upgrade," said Queen Strogger, looking into Pippa's eyes. "Trust me. I can help him. Org Inc. are the best machine inventors in the whole of Quad-Gal. We've had to be. Our religion depends on it."

  Pippa gave a nod.

  Franco struggled feebly.

  "No! No! Not the belly-pussy again! I'm not that ill! Honest! It's just a scratch, mate, honest!"

  Inside the quivering hole, Pippa caught a glimpse of complicated machinery, of spinning wheels and stepping gears. She swallowed, hard, as a stench of hot oil flooded out of the opening. Chains and weights spun and went clank. Franco was half dragged by Queen Strogger, half pushed by Pippa, and if he'd had his own way, had all his faculties about him, he would have turned tail and legged it.

  The stump of Franco's arm was plunged into the gaping belly-mouth, and Franco screamed a high-pitched scream like a little girl who's fallen off her scooter and grazed both knees.

  "Franco!" snapped Pippa, and he stopped, looking sullen. "You made less noise when Ziggurat blasted your fucking arm off! Be a man! Be a soldier! Show me why you're Combat K!"

  "I'd rather be on a different planet," mumbled Franco.

  "Be still," said Queen Strogger, not unkindly. "This won't hurt a bit."

  "That's what they all fucking say!" screeched Franco, struggling hard now, but his severed arm was trapped in the old org's belly. Chains were rattling. Gears were crashing. From deep inside Strogger's body came several deep clangs. Then a ratchet sound. There were thuds, and a chugging noise like an old steam engine.

  "Noooo!" wailed Franco. "Not agaaaiiinn!"

  Clang shunk thad thuck suck clank clang chunk.

  There was a pause.

  "Is that it?" said Pippa.

  "Oh no," said Strogger. "That's just the beginning..."

  CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK WHUMP RATTLE RATTLE SHRING CHUMP CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG. CHINK. CHANK. CHONK.

  CHONK.

  "Wahhhh!" said Franco.

  CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD SUCK CLANK WHUMP RATTLE RATTLE SHRING CHUMP CLANG CHUNK CLANG CHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK. CHINK. CHANK CHONK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK SHUNK THAD SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK WHUMP RATTLE RATTLE SHRING CHUMP CLA
NG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THAD THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK CLANG SHUNK THUCK SUCK CLANK CLANG CHUNK. CHINK. CHANK. CHONK.

  Rattle.

  And then it was done.

  Steam hissed from Queen Strogger's ears like spurts of toxic poison, and Pippa stepped back, releasing Franco, eyes wide, nostrils twitching at the myriad of acrid, acidic odours.

  Franco was suddenly released, and staggered back, his arm held high in the air as a look of absolute horror crossed his face.

  "What's she done to me? What's she done to me? Waaaahh!"

  "She's given you a new arm, Franco!"

  Franco stopped. He lowered his arm. It was metal. He stared at it.

  "Er," he said.

  He flexed his fingers, and made a fist. Everything gleamed like silver. He rolled his wrist in both directions, then stared first at Pippa, then at Queen Strogger.

  "Er?" he said.

  "You have been repaired," said Queen Strogger.

  "I ain't a fucking car..."

  "Franco!"

  "Er. Yes. Well. Thank..." he chewed his lip, face contorting. "Thank - you," he forced out between gritted teeth.

  "You have been upgraded," said Queen Strogger.

  "You fucking..."

  "Franco!"

  "Okay. Okay." He held up his hands. Well. One hand, and one metal appendage which looked like a hand. He took a deep breath. He looked at his face, reflected in his metal hand and arm. It was joined quite neatly to his flesh. There were only a few thin metal cables which broke through the skin of his recent stump. "I suppose I need to say thanks. Thanks for the, um, new arm. I'm sure I'll put it to a lot of good use."

  Queen Strogger grinned at him. "I'm sure you shall. I have also took the liberty of introducing various chemicals to your system."

  "Chemicals?" Suspicion.

  "Drugs."

  "Drugs? Great!"

  "Don't get too excited. Your human chassis is as weak as they get. I have given you antibiotics, and various anti-rejection agents to stop your own body fighting the cyborg additional. I've also pepped you up a bit; painkillers and stimulants and suchforth. Can't have you going to sleep on the battlefield now, can we?"