Synthezoids Endworld 30

by Robbins, David

  “How did you get here?” Rikki said.

  “My usual means of propulsion,” A.l.v.i.s responded.

  “No,” Rikki said, remembering that when addressing the thing, he needed to be precise. It tended to take words literally. “I mean, what are you doing here? Does Socrates have a last-minute message for us?”

  “A message and more,” A.l.v.i.s. said. “I have been sent to accompany you to the Valley of Shadow.”

  “What?”

  “I am to escort you and serve as your guide.”

  “Hold on,” Rikki said. “No one said anything to me about bringing you along. Why didn’t you leave the Home when we did?”

  A.l.v.i.s floated closer, its lights blinking faster. “It was a last minute decision, sir. Made by Socrates and Tesla shortly after you departed. I mentioned to them that it was a shame I was not going along since I know the Needle from top to bottom and could be of great use in assisting you in locating the crucial journals. Socrates and Tesla talked it over and Tesla said that although he originally wanted me to stay at the Home to help with trying to keep your friends alive, on second thought he believed I would be of more use aiding you on your run. Socrates considered and said that, yes, he agreed, it was an oversight on their part not to have sent me. Socrates asked if I would be able to overtake you and I assured him I could.” A.l.v.i.s made a whirring sound. “And here I am, at your service.”

  “They should have thought of it sooner,” Rikki said.

  “If you require confirmation, contact them by radio,” A.l.v.i.s said.

  “It’s not that.” Rikki had been told that the synthezoid was incapable of telling a falsehood. Or so Tesla claimed. And he had to admit that the thing’s help could prove invaluable. “Glad to have you with us,” he said. “But just so we’re clear. I’m in charge.”

  “I am under your complete command,,” A.l.v.i.s said. “You have only to express a wish and I shall strive my utmost to fulfill it.”

  “Good,” Rikki said. “Then let’s get under way.” He glanced at the SEAL. “Would you prefer to ride inside with us?”

  “I can be of better use out here,” A.l.v.i.s said. “With my sensors at optimum range, I can warn you of potential dangers. And with my internal G.P.S., I can chose the most direct route.”

  “Lead the way, then.” Rikki climbed back in.

  The trainees stayed silent for all of half a minute. Then Crom placed his big hands on the top of the passenger-side bucket seat and leaned forward. “What’s going on? Why did that bucket of bolts show up?”

  Rikki explained, ending with, “Having it along should save us a lot of time when we reach the Tower. Or Needle, rather. A.l.v.i.s can lead us straight to the journals. Plus it will know where the booby-traps are.”

  “Booby-traps, sir?” Eleanor said.

  “Thanatos rigged a lot of nasty surprises for anyone who invaded his sanctuary,” Rikki enlightened her. “Blade, Hickok and Geronimo ran into a few the last time they paid the Needle a visit.”

  “Wonderful,” Kanto said.

  As usual, Sherlock was the last to speak up. “Shouldn’t we contact the Home and let Socrates know we’ve linked up with A.l.v.i.s?”

  “Good idea,” Rikki said. Their Leader and the others would be relieved to hear it. He switched on the radio and took the mic from its clamp on the dash. Pressing a large stud, he said, “SEAL to Home. SEAL to Home. Do you copy?”

  Static crackled loudly.

  Rikki tried again. Interference wasn’t unusual. During the Big Blast there had been severe disruptions across the entire electromagnetic spectrum, and ever since, long range and often short range communications proved problematic.

  More static spewed from the speakers, along with intermittent beeps and strange whistles.

  “Sounds almost spooky,” Kanto said.

  “Puts my teeth on edge,” Eleanor said.

  “More mechanical crap,” Crom said. “We should have brought messenger pigeons.”

  “Out last pigeons died a long time ago,” Eleanor said. “Everyone knows that.”

  “It was a joke, wench,” Crom said.

  “I’m a swordwoman, I’ll have you know,” Eleanor said, “and I’ll thank you to remember that and address me accordingly.”

  “Sure thing,” Crom said.

  Rikki tried to raise the Home again, but couldn’t. Replacing the mic, he looked in the rearview mirror and noticed a peculiar expression on the face of the least talkative trainee. “Something bothering you, Sherlock?”

  “I’m computing probabilities, sir.”

  “You’re what?” Crom said.

  “I dislike indulging in assumptions. You have undoubtedly heard the common parlance regarding doing so.”

  “The par-who?” Crom said.

  “When you assume,” Kanto said, “you make an ass of you and me.”

  “Exactly so,” Sherlock said. “A surmise is infinitely preferable. Yet there have been many instances where I don’t have sufficient data to form one. In which case I must determine the probability factors of the different scenarios and base my actions on those I deem highest.”

  “God Almighty,” Crom said. “Do you ever talk like normal people?”

  Eleanor placed her hand on Sherlock’s arm. “Pay him no mind. I’d love to hear more about how you....how did you put it....compute things?”

  “There’s no set formula,” Sherlock said. “Often there are too many variables to be precise. Take the static we just experienced. You have to ask yourself if it was coincidence or happenstance and assess accordingly.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “That’s way over my head. Give me an enemy to cleave with my sword and I’m happy.”

  “I feel the same way about my axe,” Crom said. “Good to know we agree about something.”

  Rikki was focused on A.l.v.i.s, who was ten yards ahead and about ten feet up in the air. Suddenly the synthezoid stopped and a metallic arm slid out of its bullet body and a metallic pincer motioned for the SEAL to do the same.

  Rikki brought the vehicle to a halt and poked his head out. He heard nothing, saw nothing.

  A.l.v.i.s stayed stationary, making beeps and chirps. Its metal arm retracted and another extension appeared, a circular bowl-shaped object that began slowly spinning.

  “What do you suppose that is?” Kanto said.

  “A listening device,” Sherlock said. “It resembles the parabolic microphones popular before the Big Blast although it’s smaller than any I’ve seen pictures of.”

  “Is there anything you don’t know, bookworm?” Crom said.

  A.l.v.i.s turned and floated to the SEAL. Reaching Rikki’s window, the synthezoid dipped lower so they were eye-to-red-eye. “I have detected life forms approximately one hundred and fifty meters to the south of our position.”

  “There’s life all over out here,” Rikki said. Not just mutations and other horrors. A lot of species—-amazingly—-had survived the nuclear holocaust, if in greatly reduced numbers.

  “I have brought it to your attention because based on their heat signatures, they appear to be bipedal.”

  “They’re people?” Rikki said. “How many are we talking about?”

  “My sensors count three. I wouldn’t rush to an assessment, however. Not if by ‘people’ you mean human. Based on my readings, I would venture that they decidedly are not. Not unless human beings now have multiple arms and heads.”

  Rikki jerked up in his seat. “Multiple?”

  “Their thermal silhouettes suggest at least one of them has several arms,” A.l.v.i.s reported, “and two heads.”

  The image the synthezoid’s description conjured sent a tingle of apprehension down his Rikki’s spine. “How big are these things?”

  “The largest is over four meters tall.”

  “Giants!”

  “The Lord help us,” Eleanor said.

  “We have to get out of here,” Rikki said. “Right now.” He pressed on the accelerator and their speed rapidly climbed b
ut not fast enough to suit him. Twenty-five miles an hour. Thirty. Then thirty-five. It was the best he could do given they were threading through woods. A recently fallen sapling barred their way and he went over it without pause, the SEAL’s huge tires more than equal to the obstacle although the van rocked and bounced, forcing the others to grab for support.

  A.l.v.i.s kept pace alongside Rikki’s window. “Am I correct in stating that these creatures worry you?”

  “They’re giants,” Rikki said. Which should be enough of an explanation. Giantism had run rampant after World War Three, thanks to the unpredictable mix of chemical, biological and radioactive toxins. There had been everything from giant insects to birds to mammals. Of late the Family had encountered fewer and fewer instances, much to their relief. Tesla was of the opinion that perhaps giantism had run its course. Apparently he was wrong. “We need to make ourselves scarce.”

  “Too late for that,” A.l.v.i.s chirped. “I regret to report that they are already after you.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Eleanor liked to think that she was a warrior through and through. Since the age of twelve she had devoted herself to becoming the perfect swordwoman.

  The first time her parents took her to the Family armory, she had been thrilled to her core. She vividly remembered gazing rapturously at a wall covered from top to bottom with swords of all kinds. Inside her, something stirred. It was as if she had fallen in love—-with a weapon.

  From that day on, she was hooked. Her parents gave her a short sword, and she practiced every spare minute, even in her room at night when she was supposed to be asleep. By the age of fourteen she had experimented with every sword in the Amory and selected the longsword as her weapon of choice. Her parents and friends thought she was crazy, that a longsword was too big, that she could never wield it effectively.

  She proved otherwise.

  There was never any question of what she would be when she came of age. What else would she be—-but a Warrior? Her father was all for it but her mother had reservations.

  Eleanor couldn’t blame her mom, given the perils. She told her mother not to worry, that she possessed complete confidence in her ability to prevail over anything that came along. What she couldn’t kill with her sword, she would turn into Swiss cheese with her machine pistol.

  But now, gazing in stupefied wonder at the three enormous creatures chasing the SEAL, Eleanor doubted any of her weapons would do more than annoy them.

  She had seen a giant bobcat once, years ago, deformed and nearly hairless. And a giant snake with two heads and two tails. But they were nothing compared to the monstrosities in pursuit.

  It was well known that giantism nearly always resulted in abominations. These three were hideous in the extreme. The tallest was over twelve feet in height, the shortest about eight. The shortest was so thin as to be gaunt. The middle one was stocky but with gangly limbs. The biggest rippled with muscle, and had two heads and three arms. Only one of the heads housed a brain, though. The other was little more than a slack sack that flipped and flopped with every step the giant took.

  Their faces were demented caricatures. Eyes where eyes shouldn’t be, noses that were twisted and bent, great maws with huge teeth. The largest giant’s tapered to points, and when he spread his mouth wide, he resembled nothing so much as a great hungry shark eager for the taste of human flesh.

  “Can we outdistance them?” Kanto anxiously asked.

  “I’m trying,” Rikki-Tikki-Tavi said.

  The SEAL swept around a turn. Ahead was a log. Rikki swerved to avoid it, too late. The SEAL hit the log going over forty and the van tilted and canted, nearly throwing Eleanor from her seat.

  Rikki regained control but the mishap had let the giants gain.

  A.l.v.i.s, keeping pace. boomed loud enough to be heard over the SEAL, “I will seek to stop the creatures.”

  “No!” Rikki shouted.

  Disregarding him, the synthezoid slowed and moved to place itself between the SEAL and their pursuers.

  “What does that dumb buckets of bolts think it’s doing?” Crom bellowed. “We need it to find the journals.”

  Twisting, Eleanor saw an arc of electricity burst from A.l.v.i.s toward the giants. They didn’t even break stride. The largest swung a keg-sized hand, as someone might swat a fly, and A.l.v.i.s went flipping end over end through the air, and into the trees.

  The SEAL raced around another bend. Ahead, a large clearing opened up.

  Spinning the steering wheel, Rikki shouted,, “Hang on!”

  Eleanor gripped her seat just in time. The van slewed wildly. She didn’t realize what Rikki was doing until they lurched to a stop with the front end facing back the way they had come.

  “Get set for a fight!” Rikki said.

  * * *

  Kanto watched in rising horror as the giants came charging around the last bend. At sight of the SEAL, they gave voice to lusty roars and shrieks of maniacal delight.

  In his many daydreams about becoming a Warrior, Kanto never imagined anything like this. Always, he was the consummate assassin, dispatching human enemies with ruthless precision. The key word being human.

  It was his grandfather who first filled his head with exciting tales of ancient times, of stories about Italy when the country was a hotbed of intrigue and treachery. The heyday of the assassini, who slew efficiently and secretly and were seldom brought to justice.

  Kanto remembered those tales as if it were yesterday. The dark nights, the furtive escapes, stilettos sheathed in chests or garrotes slipped around throats. That was his ideal of how to kill. He enjoyed the slaying, or at least the thought of slaying, since he hadn’t actually killed anyone yet. He understood there was more involved with being a Warrior than killing, but that was all right so long as he got to do what he imagined he loved most.

  But now, as the three gigantic abominations bore down on the SEAL, Kanto began to question the wisdom of his decision. The assassini of long ago never faced anything like this. He was debating whether to stay put or leap out and open up with his AR 70 when someone beat him to it.

  * * *

  Crom saw the giants pound into view, and laughed. Here were foes worth proving his mettle. The mutates earlier had been ordinary. Anyone could kill a mutated cat. But giants! They were creatures of legend and myth and literary fiction made real. In one of his favorite stories about his childhood hero, the barbarian had pitted his might and skill against a pair of giants who assumed he would be easy prey. They were wrong.

  As Rikki brought the van to a stop facing their pursuers, Crom threw his door open and sprang out. He heard Rikki shout his name but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the oversized ogres. Jerking the M87R to his shoulder, he sighted the .50-caliber on the middle giant, who was slightly ahead of the others. He jammed the stock tight, braced for the recoil, held his breath, and fired.

  The big .50 thundered. At the blast, the top of the stocky giant’s grotesque head exploded in a volcano of brains, blood, bone and hair. Defying all logic, the creature was able to take several more strides before it’s body caught up with the fact it was missing most if its brain. Tottering, it pitched against the skinny giant and they both crashed down.

  The largest was almost on top of the SEAL.

  Crom heard a whirring sound and glanced over his shoulder to see the front headlights swiveling out and up.

  “Move!” Rikki yelled.

  Taking several long bounds, Crom dived flat.

  The chug of the twin heavy-caliber machine guns mounted in the front of the SEAL drowned out the thump of giant footsteps. Swiveling, Crom yipped for glee at the outcome.

  The largest giant was met head-on by a hailstorm. Round after round after round riddled its massive body, causing it to jerk and jiggle and thrash in a macabre dance. Blood streamed from gaping holes as it howled its fury to the heavens.

  Crom laughed.

  The giant began to sink to the ground, its pseudo head flopping, its razor maw bared in
elemental defiance. As it sank, the rounds from the SEAL stitched a pattern of ravaged flesh from its navel to its throat. The thing was still howling when its functional head disintegrated in a spectacular spray of bits and parts.

  Crom was so intent on the hilarious spectacle that he didn’t see the third giant hurtling toward him until it loomed against the glare of the sun, and reached down. He clawed for his .44 Magnum but fingers like iron closed on his wrist.

  There was a flash of metallic light and suddenly a throwing knife was imbedded in one of the creature’s mismatched eyes. Screeching in rage, the giant stumbled back and flailed at its face. Then, gripping the hilt, the thing wrenched.

  Out came the knife—-and the eye.

  There was another flash, and the other eye was transfixed. Too witless to learn from its mistake, the giant grasped the second knife in its huge hand, and yanked.

  Crom glanced around.

  Kanto had jumped out and was standing and staring at the giant as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had done.

  “Thanks!” Crom said. Angling his M87R, he cored the giant’s chest below the sternum.

  The giant looked down at itself. Or would have, if it had eyes. Swaying like an uprooted oak, the creature managed to take a partial step, and collapsed.

  Crom cackled and offered his hand to Kanto. “You saved my bacon, buddy.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” was Kanto’s reply. He shook, then moved toward the body. “I need to collect my knives.”

  Crom climbed into the SEA and beamed at the others. “Did you see that?” he crowed.

  Rikki-Tikki-Tavi jabbed a finger at him. “What did you think you were doing?”

  Confused, Crom said, “I killed two of of them, didn’t I?”

  “You jumped out without so much as a word to let us know what you intended.”

  “There was no time to waste,” Crom said. “They were almost on us.” He looked at the others, seeking their praise.

  Eleanor frowned.

  Sherlock simply said, “Nice shooting.”

  “You need to get it through your head, Crom,” Rikki said, “that you’re expected to perform as you would if you were part of a Triad. Not as a lone wolf.”