Theodore

by Marcus LaGrone

  The second attacker managed back to his feet as he snarled, “Is that the best you can do, baldy human?”

  “Maybe,” grinned Bill as he put a second three round burst into his target. Bill grinned defiantly as his target was once again bowled over onto the ground. “But it's a lot of fun in the meantime!”

  The dance played out again, exactly as before. The Taik seemed more angry than injured...

  “He's trying to run you out of bullets,” murmured Theodore, quite impressed at how well the Taik was handling the brutal onslaught.

  “I'm just trying to get him to back up two more meters...” grinned Bill as he took the baited shot and put three more rounds into the Taik’s armor. “Bingo!”

  “Is that seriously the best you can do? I'm going to enjoy gutting you... slowly...”

  Bill just grinned and waved sarcastically as the crash of a sonic boom and then the thunderous roar of a truly high power weapon was unleashed. The boastful Tiak's armor shuddered under the assault and was gone in a flash, sending its owner into a pain washed slumber. “Nighty night!” beamed Bill as he reloaded his weapon.

  “What was that?” asked a truly impressed Theodore.

  “That's what you get from a 30mm pulse rifle. Half a kilo of tungsten carbide at mach six. Normally used for opening up lightly armored vehicles.”

  “That's what, a megajoule?” Theodore asked flabbergasted at the thought of someone firing such a weapon. “And the recoil?”

  “'Bout that, yeah. Oh the recoil is thunderous; heck, the entire weapon moves half a meter inside its mount... Peter had it specially made...” grinned Bill. “Normally those things are mounted on repulsar gunships. Needless to say, our version doesn't fire twelve-hundred rounds a minute.”

  “What were you firing? That thing is small, but it was obvious it kicked like an elk!”

  Bill grinned, “Custom 10mm pulse rifle. Horribly inefficient and you have to throw away both stages of the barrel after about three hundred rounds, but it puts a lot of firepower in a cute little package.”

  “Silly me, when I think 'cute', girls come to mind...”

  Bill laughed at Theodore and then turned his attention to two of his teammates as they closed and inspected the unconscious Taiks while he stood at the ready. The more recent target had his arms put in a set of binders that ran from mid hands all the way to his elbows. Once in place, he was administered a sedative. The first target, all bound up in foam, became the source of local amusement as they carefully tranquilized him too and then started hosing his body with a putrid smelling chemical that quickly dissolved the foam. “Come on, let them finish their work, we have to get you to class...”

  41

  “You made the news today...”

  “Well, of course he made the news. More that all the hounds should just announce when poor Theodore has had a dull day.”

  Theodore looked up from his homework and grinned at the twins. “It's not my fault! I was a bystander this time!”

  “Seems the other students took a bit of offense to things 'appening at the U.”

  “Started a bit of a campaign. Raising money and all.”

  Theodore grimaced, “They trying to buy out my scholarship and get me booted?” He had been afraid something like that might happen. He was putting them at risk by proxy...

  “Nothing like that,” beamed Marcel.

  “Gathering reward money for those that rat on these people,” chimed in Maurice.

  “You are kidding me?”

  “Ask you to leave, after what you did saving that family at the monorail?”

  “And the people on the ground... don't forget them.”

  “Oh, there are some xenophobic miscreants; that's a fact.”

  “Two of them are now in student health center; also a fact!”

  “I'm used to the extreme xenophobes being big burly idiots,” grinned Theodore.

  “Ah yes, but the military science wing has their own round of strapping lads.”

  “Also helps that those lads are trained how to fight.”

  “It's all fun and games until these mobsters do something really over the top,” sighed Theodore. “If they are openly supporting me, they may be the subject of reprisal.”

  “Ah, but we 'ave a special word for wide-eyed screaming idealists, certain they can fix the world.”

  “We call them 'students.'”

  “Okay,” laughed Theodore. “Anything else, or did you two just show up to brag on your fellow students?”

  “Ulterior motives? My brother and I?”

  “Give the lad his due; he's known us for three years now.”

  “Should have been obvious.”

  “Very!”

  The pair just stood their grinning at Theodore, which went a long way to make him nervous.

  “And?” Theodore prompted.

  “Come, come, qualifiers for the traveling fencing team were announced.”

  “Big shock, you made it!”

  “All the rest are at the canteen having a big to-do!”

  “And they offered you two a free round if you went and fetched me,” laughed Theodore.

  “Precisely!”

  “Shall we then? Away?”

  “Okay, I'm coming. I just hope Bill and the rest like crowds...”

  “Hate them, I'm sure.”

  “But that's their job!”

  Theodore flashed Bill a grin as they entered the canteen. “Don't mind the crowds?”

  Bill shrugged and smiled, “It's what we are paid for. Cameras are tracking everyone that enters and running their face against the student and employee rosters.”

  “I figured you'd need a mountain of paperwork to get access to those files.”

  Bill grinned, “There are eight of us that pack heat. There are four more guys back in operations that just chase paperwork and things on computers. Besides, the Secretary of the Home Office is paying close attention. Makes some things easier. Sort of. Now go get your free lemonade and schmooze.”

  “What? No beer for me?” teased Theodore.

  “You?” scoffed Bill. “Not on a school night.”

  Theodore laughed: Bill was right of course. Theodore got his lemonade and made his polite 'hellos', grateful that the crowd was far less rowdy than one of the after parties. The entire feel of the crowd was different; previous years he was the shy but thoroughly successful fencer that competed in the more obscure and physically aggressive forms. Now... now he was one of them. No longer the shy outsider, he was viewed as the brave (crazy?) one whose actions spoke not only of his skill but also of his heart. It was a warm and pleasant feeling, one he imagined that Anna must have felt when the whole village, jerk and all, had stood up for her at the summer dance.

  Two of the windows smashing and a pair of Taiks swinging into the room like extras from a bad pirate movie quickly broke Theodore's peaceful spell. The pair's brazen entrance was almost instantly met by a torrential rain of beer mugs and bottles, some empty and some quite full and one of the intruders soon made an undignified exit falling backwards out the jagged window. Bill quickly cut loose with a volley of rifle launched tangle grenades, not at the attacker in the window, but rather at a series of people coming up the stairs. The outrageous and filth laden remarks by those in the stairwell only clarified their felonious intentions. But that didn't mean Bill wasn't fast enough shooting from the hip to remind the earlier player that he hadn't been forgotten, and was unloved... A three round burst from Bill's slightly larger, and mercifully quieter, carbine sent the first falling out the window to go commiserate with his friend. As Bill spun back he fluidly produced, primed, armed and tossed a large and quite sinister looking grenade back down the stairwell. It detonated with a thunderous roar and briefly Bill Burges looked nervous, his eye shooting to look all around overhead. “'Fraid the sprinkler system was going to go off from that one,” Bill grinned.

  “The evening is young,” countered a thoroughly shell shocked Maurice.

  “Marcel
has a point,” grinned Bill as he tossed two more grenades, quaint in size compared to the first, down the stairs.

  “I'm Marcel, he's Maurice,” corrected an equally rattled Marcel.

  “Whichever!” grinned Bill as he spun back again and put a second three round burst into the swashbuckling Taik as he tried to crawl back in the window. The Taik's armor failed on him as he fell back out the window. “Ouch, supposed to land and then lose the armor... c'est la guerre!”

  A vicious round of gunfire could be heard on the stairs as Bill carefully shifted his focus back and forth between the two threats. Finally, Tim's voice could be heard from the base of the stairs, “Seven and high and dry. How goes the cat?”

  “Our cat spilled his drink, that's all. One of the window crashers looked like he took a bad spill.”

  “Peter has them both covered, locals are moving in. Stay awake!”

  The occupants of the room slowly gathered their wits, and as a testament to their character, quickly set about cleaning of the glass from the broken windows as well as the parade of bottles and mugs.

  “Breaks my heart to see so much beer spilt and gone to waste,” pouted Marcel melodramatically.

  “Best way to cure that heart is with another pint!”

  “Fair enough!”

  Bill just laughed, “I think those two are indestructible!”

  “We prefer the term 'hearty,'” grinned Maurice.

  “I think 'beer powered' is more correct,” laughed a still nervous Theodore. That... that was a pretty brazen attack. An attack that put a lot of people at risk. But even though it was well coordinated, it was a testament to Bill's observational skills and training that the second threat was subdued even before its teeth could be seen. “You've been busy this summer, haven't you?” laughed Theodore feebly to Bill.

  “Yeah, yeah, I have. And no: I still do not want to try fencing against you,” he grinned as he reloaded.

  “This... This is getting insane.”

  “Nah, not yet.”

  42

  Theodore had nightmares for the first time in ages. As he took a somber shower in the morning, visions of the firefight flashed back into his head. Each time they played out a different and far more gruesome scenario. His body language must have spoken for him as he left for his first Tuesday morning class.

  “Someone lick your fur backwards?” asked Bill as the pair threaded their way across campus.

  “Didn't sleep well. How do you deal with it? I mean the threats to a crowd? Getting attacked as we walked by ourselves is one thing, but there in the canteen? So many things could have gone wrong.”

  “Yep, they went horribly wrong. For the bad guys,” grinned Bill. His grin was poorly received so he tried again. “Those two that came through the windows, they weren't the type to hurt the crowd. You could see it in their faces. For them it was a flash of greed. I doubt either of them had a background of consequence before yesterday. Greedy punks being stupid.”

  “You 'doubt?'” scoffed Theodore.

  “Okay bet: if I'm wrong then I'll volunteer for an extra at your dance class. If I'm right, we bleach your fur.”

  That actually forced a laugh from him, “That seems a little one sided on the bet. I guess I'll decline.”

  “Good thing or Anna and Meagan might kick my butt!” grinned Bill. He paused for a good breath of fresh autumn air before continuing, “Those coming up the stairs were the only real threat to the crowd, and we pinned them early in place where they couldn't get at anyone. You saw how quick Tim and Tammy were on them. Things were much more tidy than they probably seemed from your end.”

  “And Peter was watching everything from outside...”

  “Yep, him and his two favorite friends: Mr. KDR and Mr. 30mm.”

  “Is this ever going to end?”

  Bill grinned, “Hey, it just started getting exciting!”

  Theodore flashed him his best dirty look.

  “Sorry. I know you are more worried about the people around you than yourself. I'm sure that's what makes you so appealing to the girls!”

  That eked out a small laugh.

  Bill turned and grinned, “Being serious: from what I've heard out and about, Pat Tamilton is making great headway and there's a darn good chance that the hit on you is going to be withdrawn.

  “Withdrawn!” scoffed Theodore.

  “No one wants to risk tangoing with a Highlander when there is no one left to pay!” Bill grinned as he continued, “Hey, that one guy out by the gardens the other morning was a far, far, tougher customer than any of those last night...”

  “I'm just fearful the mafia people will do something desperate.”

  “Well, your paper is being published as we speak. The president of the university released your paper in the name of Dr. Barvelt’s legacy, so if they are trying to shut that down, they just lost.”

  “Are the publishers afraid of retaliation?”

  Bill's turn to scoff, “They have warlords and petty dictators threatening them...”

  “Yeah, but these guys have a budget!”

  “Fat lot of good it's doing them too! Every time they try to spend money, they get whacked.” Bill suddenly stopped walking and Theodore could tell he was listening intently to the com traffic in his ear bud. Bill did his best to expand Theodore's vocabulary, some things Emily had just not taught him... or not known... “Let's move it! The practice fields south of the big stadium! Class is canceled for you! Move, move, move...!”

  Theodore got the message and took off running as directed. Every time Bill was neck and neck, Theodore turned on a little more speed: he didn't want to out run Bill but he was doing his best to make sure he was prompt! He was desperately curious and worried at the same time, but knew answers would only be forthcoming once Bill felt they were safe, and Bill... apparently he was worried!

  “Cut this way a second,” Bill blurted with heavy breath.

  Theodore just nodded and followed Bill over to a campus police call box. Much to his surprise, Bill scrambled up on top of it and after some manipulation came back down with a locked case. Bill barked something to Tim over the comms and the case sprang open. Bill quickly pulled out a bandolier and two halves of a rifle that he expertly fit together. With a nod the pair were off racing again.

  “Do you know how to shoot a pulse rifle?” asked Bill.

  “In principal, yes. But I've only put all of twenty-five rounds down range in my entire life.”

  “That arrow stunt is bloody cool, but a pulse rifle is pretty cool in its own right. Here carry this a second,” barked Bill as he passed Theodore the full sized rifle. Bill quickly pulled the carbine from his backpack and swapped its barrel out for a far larger one. “Trade back!”

  Theodore quickly swapped weapons with Bill. He was more than a little impressed with Bill's coordination: they had slowed a little bit while he fiddled with the carbine, but not much!

  “Safety is at the thumb, push through. Red means kick theirs!”

  “Charging handle on top?”

  “You got it. Reflex sights come on automatically when you squeeze the grip safety.”

  “This thing going to kick the fire out of me?” asked Theodore with some concern. He could still vividly recall Bill being pushed around by the weapon a day earlier.

  “No. The system takes its power cues from the barrel installed. It should be a normal low powered carbine now.”

  “What the heck is this all about?”

  Bill grinned as they jumped the low wall outside the practice fields, “Well, it's locals not Highland Taiks if that helps your feelings.”

  Theodore's fur rippled, “Someone with their own anti-tank guns?”

  “Squad anti-armor, not actually anti-tank.”

  “If that was a joke, it fell flat...”

  Bill waved him off as he tried to listen to the earbud.

  Theodore was quickly learning there was a lot of vocabulary he had missed in his formal training. Bill was exposing him to quite a bit,
and a lot of it didn't entirely make sense. Some of the comments brought to mind images of things that were both technically and anatomically impossible for someone to actually perform... humans had an odd imagination.

  “Stay low behind the shrubs. We may have been spotted...”

  “By whom or what?”

  The whine and crack of a gatling pulse rifle raking the field answered the question quite emphatically. Theodore looked on in horror as a light repulsar gunship started rearranging their world.

  Bill grinned, a feature Theodore found totally inappropriate, as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “Seems some guys stole one from the reserve armory... Don't shoot it, that'll just piss them off.”

  “Then why am I carrying this stupid gun?”

  “Because once they get knocked to the ground, we'll need to take care of the crew.”

  There was a brilliant flash as something struck the side of the stolen craft.

  “Crap. That should have done more damage than that,” frowned Bill. “We may need...”

  Theodore had stopped listening after Bill's first meaningless intensive. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the gunship. He could see where they had been struck. Most likely by Peter and one of his toys. But the combination of magnetic and spaced armor protected the craft admirably. Drop the coils... but they were embedded and they ducted the air that makes up the balance of buoyancy... Nope! Stop the guns first! Theodore's armor sprang to life around him as he snarled and moved for a better angle. Gatling guns... spinning parts!

  The gunship caught sight of Theodore and rotated to bring both chin mounted gatling guns to bear. Two guns, each firing at over seventy-two hundred rounds a minute worth of 25mm terror...

  Theodore growled as the first arrow struck home, lodging itself between a pair of the barrels. A split second later those two barrels, with a Live Steel arrow mocking their very existence, spun around and jammed in the gun housing. There was a horrendous sound of steel and titanium having a shouting match as the gun tried to come to an instant stop. Rotational inertia said otherwise and instead the barrel assembly ripped itself free of the rest of the gun. Sparks flew as the twisted metal started tumbling to the ground.