Fire and Steel

by Gavin Magson

  “Hand me you tablet, knife, and gun.” commanded Rex.

  Almost by reflex the man complied instantly, emptying his pockets and handing everything over to Rex. The merc was so eager he didn’t even realise that Rex‘s gun was still holstered, until he turned the man’s rifle on him.

  “I’d say it is at least two miles to Boden’s compound from here, give or take. What do you think?”

  “I’d say you were right, sir.”

  “Good. Turn to face the street’s end.” Rex waited until the man had turned on the spot before continuing. “You’d best get moving if you want to return before dawn.”

  The man turned his head and, almost at a whisper, said, “Thank you.”

  Rex waited for the man to start moving forward. Once he was twenty paces away Rex raised the rifle’s barrel and sighted along it. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger the man’s right kneecap was blown outward in a spray of bone and blood, causing him to pitch forward. Rex was surprised that the leg remained attached, though barely.

  The howl that escaped the mercenary’s lips echoed off the crudely constructed buildings, startling several flocks of birds and sending them skywards. Rex paid little attention to the crawling man as he inspected the rifle, so surprised was he that it made barely any noise when fired. It was only through close inspection that he realised the weapon was pneumatically driven, firing metal darts the length of a cartridge with a fraction of the noise. Rex slung it back over his shoulder, confident he’d put it to good use again in the near future.

  As he had hoped a deep growl began from one of the many alleyways, somewhere between Rex and the sobbing mercenary. Dark shapes dispatched from an alley’s shadows, padding towards the man with well-rehearsed caution. Rex knew what was to come and chose to leave before a bark signified the pack leaders command to kill. Before he had taken a half dozen steps the rending of flesh and crunching of bone was all the he could hear, as the scream of pain was cut short.

  Rex unlocked the mercenary’s tablet and opened its map. There weren’t any indicators for a couple streets in every direction, which was good news for him. He picked a squad out of the nearest three on the tablets display and loped off in pursuit, his mind filled only with thoughts of death.

  Chapter 35

  Ajax only became aware that the automatic night-time lighting had plunged his room into darkness when the door opened behind him, bathing his hunched form in the brilliant white light that illuminated the network of corridors beyond.

  “You’ll give yourself a bad back sitting like that, lad.”

  Ajax turned around in the chair to face Major, who surprised Ajax by not being in uniform, a first for Ajax. Instead, what greeted Ajax was a powerfully built man with a thick waist built up from too many years between deployments, wearing beige trousers and a loose light blue shirt.

  “You’re not wrong there, sir.” Ajax stood from the chair, straightening his back as several audible pops and cracks made Major grin. “I didn’t realise the time, truth be told. I’m surprised that you aren’t dressed to impress though; I didn’t realise you could do casual wear.”

  “Don’t let it get out that I don’t sleep in that uniform, I wouldn’t want my reputation tarnished.” Major pulled up a stool alongside Ajax, who took the gesture to mean he could sit once more. With a tap of the device on Major’s wrist the day lights illuminated, and Ajax’s quarters were once again well lit. “I was notified that you had accessed the recordings of your fight with the simulant, which is perfectly understandable given how the encounter went. I thought that since you’d not been seen for over a day it might be a good idea to pay you a visit, just to check you weren’t unhealthily obsessing.”

  Ajax smiled a toothy, tired grin that hid nothing. Distracted from the video’s playback he was all too aware of the hunger pangs causing his stomach to growl, along with the fatigue he had ignored this long.

  “Defeat isn’t an alien experience to me, sir; I’ve tasted my fair share of it over the years. That Believer, whether it is man or machine, took everything I threw at it and would have killed me had the fight not been in a controlled scenario. I was bested, but since I’m not dead that means I can prepare myself for the next time. You might be right that it’s a slightly unhealthy amount of obsessing, but my desire to survive is quite important to me.”

  “You came damn close to beating that simulant; don’t let defeat take that away from you. The warrior in you compels you to find its weaknesses and best it next time, which I can fully understand. How is the arm?” asked Major.

  Ajax unwrapped the bandaging around his right forearm, revealing the thin strip of pale skin running almost wrist to elbow. Dr Kendall had attended to Ajax personally, numbing the arm whilst she sliced open the flesh to expose his broken bones. The break was so severe that it had taken the doctor several hours to realign the segments and shards of bone enough for the nanomachines to begin their work. Ajax had watched with fascination as an adhesive, of sorts, was applied to the ends of bone shards, which the nano’s used as the building blocks for rapid bone regrowth. Or so he was told. He was more surprised that he was left without a scar, rather a strip of freshly grown skin that lacked time under harsh sun to match the rest of his arms complexion.

  “In short: weaker than before, but I am following the exercised Valentina set me. She cursed me out for not opting for a new limb, said it’d take her a tenth of the time to replace than repair, and leave me able to puncture steel.”

  “Doctors are all too fascinated with modifying, augmenting, improving on humanity, that they do not always understand a person’s desire to remain whole. Believers only exist today because of that desire to advance humanity, a forced evolutionary step that we were never meant to take. Our King makes sure that we do not follow suit, which is why intelligent augmentation is strictly outlawed; the risk far outweighs the reward.”

  “I’ve never heard this take on the Believers before. Raúl has talked about their origins from some myth or legend he’s been told, but it means nothing to me to hear of their planet. These systems,” Ajax turned to point at the terminal next to him, the still image showing the simulant landing one of many painful blows to his body, “they have a large wealth of knowledge within them, which you’ve given me access to, but I can’t find great mention of Believers on here.”

  “Ajax, what you are asking about is a very sensitive subject to any Konarian; be careful of what you ask, and who you ask it of. I can only tell you what it is I am privileged to know, on the understanding that you keep the information to yourself.

  “Believers are, much to my Kings annoyance that it can’t be disproved, human; at least at birth they are. The simulant you fought is just one of their creations, if you will, whereby a Believer has been customised to a role within their military. If you were to step foot onto Elysium it would be apparent immediately that you didn’t fit in, as all Believer children are augmented from the first moment they can be.”

  “So how does that truly differ them from some of the Konarian’s I have met?” asked Ajax. “True, it’s rare to see someone more machine than man, but I’ve noticed those with full limb replacements, enhanced optics where eyes should be, biomechanical organ’s, you name it.”

  “Despite the many complaints you will have heard about life on Konar being strictly policed, it pales in comparison to Believer society. The augments you see on the streets are engineered to communicate directly with the individual’s nervous system, reliant solely on local electrical signals to operate. Whilst not impossible to remote into, the augments are designed to only be controlled by the wearer; this is far from the case on Elysium.”

  “What benefit is there to having the augments controlled by others?”

  “The Believer war machine, in terms of troop numbers, is considerably lower than our own, but numbers do not win battles alone. Konar has been fighting Elysium for long before I was born and has always suffered higher casualties for it. Every Believer is part of their Swarm
, a vast network of networks that ultimately links the lowliest Believer all the way up to their Queen.

  “There are limitations to this Swarm, which is why the Believer population hasn’t exploded in the same manner as Konar’s. You have equivalent ranks of soldiers within their army, but where a sergeant might lead a squad for Konar, a Believer sergeant has a direct link to each member of their squad and the lieutenant above them, who will link to several sergeants and then up to a captain, and so on. It’s not a like for like comparison, but it makes for a fucking efficient war machine that we are struggling to keep contained.”

  “When you say a direct link, what exactly do you mean? I can’t visualise how this all works.”

  “You really are alien to all of this. There is a neural implant within every Believer, which gathers live data from all augments and uploads this to that Believers network. Now, since no Konarian has stepped foot on Elysium and returned to divulge more details, all I am telling you is what our own scientists can reverse engineer from the bodies of fallen Believers. I’m told that these networks are likely organic computers designed to handle incredible volumes of data that passes up the chain, if required, for senior Believers to deal with. We are talking about live images from the eyes of every Believer, data on all bodily functions and stresses, constant information about enemy movements.

  “There’s more, so much more, that we have yet to identify that is transmitted between these abominations. The worst part of being a Believer is the loss of free will. At any moment a Believer can be remotely controlled by their superiors, sent to their deaths if needs be. Whenever Konar deploys its military to a planet we block off world transmissions to prevent this information being fed back to Elysium, but it is incredibly difficult to stop communications between the soldiers in situ. That is why they are an awful enemy to face, and cornering one, like the simulant represented, is neigh on impossible.”

  “And you want me to deploy with your forces against a whole army comprising these machines? Fuck.”

  “Ajax, at their core they are still human; they still bleed, which means you can kill them. Study your fight, learn from it, and show me your adaptability. When your arm is healed I want you to resume training in the exercise hall, everything you will need to hone yourself for the Believers should be there at your disposal. Just don’t try to spar with any of my men; you’ve already proved that they would end up crippled, at best. Now, get some rest before you go insane from replaying that scene. That’s an order, soldier.”

  Ajax watched as Major stood and left the room, which left him in near darkness as the daytime lights suddenly went out. He turned back to the scene frozen on the screen and resumed the playback, watching once more the moment when his arm broke. He couldn’t stop the feeling of dread gnawing away at his resolve as the simulant advanced, ready to deliver the killing blow. The same scene came to him now whenever he closed his eyes, which is why he was so hesitant to sleep. If he slept Ajax knew what would replace thoughts of the Believer; the image of Henry hacking at his body, blood pumping from numerous wounds, leaving him cold and desperate. And, finally, the feeling of a blade puncturing his chest and stilling his heart.

  Anger fuelled him, hatred spurred him on, but ultimately it was how much Ajax loathed his weakness, this sudden fear of death that caused him restless nights, that drove him to push his body all the way to its limit.

  Since Major’s visit he had fixated over formulating a training strategy that would push himself to surpass the speed and strength that the Believer possessed, and, despite Valentina’s advice, had returned to the exercise hall early, carrying out this strategy.

  Ajax zoned out the stares, the whispers, all distractions, as he ducked and dodged through the equipment he had organised, thanks to the help of one of Major’s quartermasters. Together they had assembled Ajax’s vision of a deadly obstacle course in a corner of the hall. Comprised of metal columns capable of omnidirectional travel above the hard mat, thanks to their magnetic levitation, the columns could be fitted with a variety of arms and weaponised attachments. What this all combined to do was put on a spectacle that the base’s staff couldn’t help but stare in bemusement at.

  Ajax dove through the gap of two arms just as they closed, a club catching him on the calf and throwing off his trajectory, causing a hard landing on the tough surface. He rolled left as a bar struck where he had landed and had to raise his right forearm to block an attack from the rear, causing a wince of pain from him. He kept moving, knowing that to be stationary was to suffer.

  A spike scraped across the skin over his ribs, tearing open the green shirt he wore. As Ajax instinctively moved away from the source of pain his shirt snagged on the spike, the tear running all along his shirt until it split apart, falling from him.

  Major stood alongside Raúl, watching the dancing figure of Ajax move fluidly around, under, through, and even above, the four columns as they constantly moved to strike him. It was an improved performance on the first day’s training, which had seen an abrupt halt when a blade skewered Ajax’s left bicep. Major begrudgingly admitted that Ajax was adapting at a terrifying rate, something that neither Raúl or Valentina could explain.

  “How long did it last this time?” asked Major.

  Raúl consulted the tablet he held before turning to face Major.

  “Just over three minutes this time. Is that five hundred you owe me now?” queried Raúl.

  “Was it five? I forget.” Raúl took his eyes away from the dancing figure to stare at his leader and was relieved to see a smirk on Major’s face; the man was famous for avoiding debts. “I’ve invited Lixion to visit the day after tomorrow, where he will watch Ajax defeat your simulant. We can settle the wager tomorrow, where you’ll be paying me when that shirt comes off in under two minutes.”

  “Deal. I’ll make the arrangements for the exercise hall to be refitted overnight. I presume you want the same layout?”

  “No, I don’t want Ajax to be too comfortable with his surroundings. I want your fabricators working overtime; I want another four pillars made and programmed to only target Ajax. If he beats the sergeant after that then he is ready for the Outerlands.”

  Chapter 36

  Duke’s eyes felt gritty and raw, the lids so heavy they were overpowering. He groaned as pain hit him and, against what he wanted, Duke managed to open his eyes.

  The room was poorly illuminated, thick, dark sheets were held up by tape over the windows to block out almost all of the light threatening to escape around the sides. Duke rolled his head to the right, towards the lamp that provided the little light he had to see by. Beyond the table and lamp was a figure curled up on the floor, using her arm as a pillow; Duke knew it to be Ilya, despite his protests that she returned to the Haven when his surgery began.

  It was impossible to move without experiencing pain, pain unlike any he had suffered before. Pain was good, thought Duke, it meant he was alive. He almost wished that he wasn’t as a curse escaped his lips, the word spat with true venom as a sharp spike of agony lanced his neck whilst Duke moved his head once more.

  A door, unseen but now heard, opened somewhere to his left, and a pair of footsteps paced across the room and past the bed until Duke’s physician was stood to his right, both hands full with a hodgepodge of equipment and medicine.

  “Welcome to the land of the living, Mr Kefo. How are you feeling?” asked the man.

  “How do you think? Like I’ve been hacked and sliced to pieces. Everything hurts, Johnson.”

  “It’s to be expected, and a good sign at that; it means you have a functioning spinal column, and that your brain hasn’t turned to mush. Can you move your extremities for me?”

  Duke dared not raise his head from the thin pillow, he simply complied with the man’s request and, gingerly, moved his hands, feet, fingers, and toes, doing so one limb at a time. Each movement brought about some form of discomfort, but none as bad as when he moved his head from right to left and back again.

&n
bsp; “Good, your movement doesn’t seem to have be compromised by the surgery. I can load you up on opiates for the pain, but you’ll need to rest as much as possible for weeks, probably months until you’re fully healed. Your biggest risk now is from infection, which I can’t do anything against once you leave this room; I’ve already booked my flight off world.

  “These,” Johnson unloaded the contents of his hands onto the table besides Duke, “will manage the pain and assist in keeping any infections at bay. You’ll need help in cleaning the wound and reapplying the dressing daily, until it stops seeping at least, then only when the dressing is soiled. If you are staying in Konar I can recommend a couple doctors that aren’t completely useless.”

  “I’ll take the recommendations, but I don’t intend to stay here for long; I’m bound for Troy as soon as I am fit to travel.”

  “I will write the addresses down for you nonetheless. I strongly suggest you avoid hyperspace until that wound is fully closed, or you will risk a very painful and violent death. The girl did good, she’s been keeping you hydrated these five days.”

  “Five days? Shit, I didn’t think I’d be out that long. And Ilya was here that entire time?”

  “Yes, wouldn’t leave your side. I’m sure she will be happy to grab a shower, now that I can prove you aren’t dead. She’s a good kid, one you’d regret to not keep around whilst you are vulnerable.”

  “If I had my way she’d be coming with me, but I won’t condemn her to a life of exile when there is no need. Thank you, Johnson, you’ve given me a fighting chance to darken this existence for a few more years yet.”

  “Hey, you were paying, I’d have been crazy to pass up that kind of money. Maybe I’ll find my way to Troy one day, if the farming life isn’t for me.”

  “Aye, I can see your skills being highly sought on Troy, not that you should need the money now. How long until I can get out of here?” asked Duke.