Authors: Steve Wheeler
With the slavers all disarmed and either vomiting or shitting themselves, or in one case both, the ACEs settled down to wait for the buyers.
Jan and Julie had taken up concealed positions on either sides of the door when two antigravity vehicles slowly came up the avenue. They let them pass as large airlock-capable doors slid open for the vehicles to drive inside. The ACEs had only just finished propping the injured humans against the wall when the vehicles came to a stop and the doors closed behind them, leaving Julie and Jan outside guarding the entrance.
Nail had just enough time to yell as the vehicle’s doors opened. ‘Oh, shit! Cyans! Run!’
Five dark red-coloured, six-legged combat dogs, which looked like a cross between wolfhounds and alligators, had leapt out of the vehicle’s open doors. Glint spun around and fired his spine-mounted linear rifle, tearing one completely apart as two others closed on him. He grabbed the next, tearing off a leg, as the other bit him deeply on the flank then let go after Glint started to smash it about the head with the severed leg.
Flint scuttled across, flashing open his blades, and sliced away the legs of one before he was seized by the same monster who had let Glint go. As it tried to bite into him, he simply extended his blades up and through its blocky head, slicing out its toughened teeth, and then went looking for its brain by forcing himself down through its body. As he erupted out through its back, he reached across and sliced away the barbed tail of another one that was trying to stab Glint. Glint bellowed his thanks as he then seized the creature and tore its jaw off. Punching down into its body, he simply ripped its guts out. Stepping away from the twitching remains they looked across to see scintillating colours flashing up and down Nail’s body with the other two engineered animals sitting mesmerised. Nail called across and pointed at the vehicles, as one was reversing and the other was closing its doors.
‘Don’t let them out. I have a gift for them!’
Glint grabbed Flint and swung him onto his back; he bounded across to the door controls just as they started to activate. Flint punched one of his small fists into the circuit and a jolt of electricity blasted through them both. They crashed to the ground, smouldering, with Flint brushing smoking fur off Glint. His friend glowered at him then burst out laughing.
Nail called out again. ‘Get to cover! This could go badly wrong!’
The three of them started to climb the walls as the combat dogs walked slowly back to the vehicles and tapped on the opaque windows. When they were not let in they climbed up and tore the sunroofs off, jumping down into the vehicles. An instant later all hell broke loose within the vehicles ... screams and tearing sounds, then gunfire. Windows erupted outwards, hit by exploding bullets from within, and a human head was flung from one of the vehicles — then silence. From their vantage point
Basalt’s
ACEs saw the slaver humans below slowly drag themselves through a door into the office area of the building and lock it behind them.
‘Well, that went quite well, I think,’ Glint commented.
Nail grumbled. ‘Yeah, but you buggers just don’t listen. You don’t have to kill a weapon. You just have to reprogram it so it will do your job and then you are clean.’
Flint said in his little voice, ‘I’m all sticky and stinky. Need bathing.’
‘Yes, that goes for both of you,’ Nail said. ‘I have sent all the DNA information on everyone we touched to Fritz. Time to go. Hold on.’ He climbed across the wall until he reached a control box and jacked himself in.
Glint looked around the warehouse, noticing a large container that was slowly opening. He pointed at it. ‘Hey, fellas, looks like round two is about to start!’
Nail looked hard at the emerging mass, very like thousands of little cubes tumbling over themselves. He started pounding the switches on the door controls and hissed, quickly saying, ‘Fuck, we’re in trouble. We’re sealed in with smothering tech. No matter how long or how far we run, as soon as ten of those touch us we are stuffed. Here’s the file!’
He flashed the file across to the others. Glint shook his head and Flint groaned. ‘Cut them and they reform, blow them to bits and the bits just become smaller, although less efficient, units. Remorseless, and when they touch us they rip the electrics away. Fire extinguishers?’
‘They have only oxygen-depleting types here. No C02,’ Nail replied. ‘Can’t electrocute them either as they just move faster when charged up. Problem is getting worse. We are blocked with comms.’
Glint spun himself around and fired a timed burst from his linear rifle at the door locks, which just dented the locks, jamming them further.
Outside the door Jan yelled at Julie. ‘Someone’s in trouble! That was an SOS. Right, won’t be the slavers; not their style and besides, they would have control of the building. It’ll be our guys. I’ll get the side door, you fill in Fritz.’
She ran to the small side door as the dress she was wearing disappeared and her suit went full combat. She pulled on the handle and nothing happened to the door as a high powered rifle bullet hit her between the shoulder blades. She was smashed hard against the doorframe as the energy of the bullet was distributed around the suit, bruising her torso. The next shot hit her in the side of her helmet, snapping her head into the doorjamb while the suit absorbed the energy again. Jan rolled to the ground and acted dead for a few seconds as the suit showed her the trajectory of the bullets and their firing position. She knew that Julie was also down, seeing the flash of information from Julie and the three-second countdown before the shooters responded. In her head, Jan selected a weapon and fired it.
A long dart ripped away from her suit’s upper arm and orbited quickly around the avenue, gathering speed with its tiny rockets. It split into dozens of tiny flechettes which hunted down the gunmen, impacting one after the other on precisely the same site on each of their combat suits, overwhelming them and slicing into the flesh and bone underneath.
With the gunmen down, the two women drew their rotary pistols, selected the protective ammunition and fired small hornet-like drones which circled, watching for any more hostiles.
Jan ran back to the door, pulling a fat patch off her suit and slapping it over the door lock. As the programmed molecular acid, which Marko had developed from octopoid biochemistry, activated and chewed deep into the lock, she anxiously tried to make contact with Fritz.
‘Julie, I can’t get Fritz. We need another comms link.’
In answer, Julie started to march towards the vehicle from which one of the gunmen had fired. She wasted no time, firing the rotary at it and blowing out the opaqued windows. Screams issued from the vehicle as two young gang members pleaded with her not to kill them. She shrugged, pulled a small needier pistol with her left hand and fired at them. The slow-moving darts embedded in their faces and they slumped to the floor. She looked into the vehicle, seeing the dead gunman and the unconscious youths and quickly searched their pockets, taking three cellular phones and pushing them into slim pockets on her suit.
She backed away to a reasonable cover position by the warehouse door and holstered the needier. She instructed the suit to plug itself into the phones when she instructed it and dial the faculty of music where Fritz was hanging out, establishing a direct link. She quickly told him, in segments, what was happening as each phone was rapidly shut down.
‘Jan! I think he got the message but I was blocked fast so did not get an acknowledgment.’
‘OK, if we don’t get a response within two minutes we slap another patch on that door and take our chances.’
Kilometres away at the calibration range, the major received the message from Fritz via a laser link from
Basalt.
He saw that comms were down with all the teams, but knew that the ACEs were the priority.
He pulled up from a dive over the range, rotated the four gimballed jet turbine pods for maximum forward thrust and fed more power to the antigravity units. He selected armour-piercing munitions for the guns, and slaved the massive, rear, copula-mounted guns to his control, not having a gunner on board the two-seater machine. Minutes later the first call from the local controller came.
‘Basalt
Maul. This is flight control. You are not authorised to manually fly that craft over the industrial area. Please immediately switch control to us. This is your first and final warning. You have one minute.’
The major shouted into his microphone: ‘Patrick, tell everyone what is happening. Say that it is a Games Board sanctioned action. Yes, I know that this bit probably isn’t, but fudge it. Fritz. Lock down local countermeasures if you can. This is going to be a near thing.’
Seconds later he was pulling up in a tight orbit over the main surface airlock into the warehouse and, hoping that the first rounds would not go straight through, fired the rotaries. The twin weapons fired thousands of rounds per minute in a metre-wide circle in the centre of one of the three intersecting airlock doors.
Inside the warehouse, Glint was ripping parts of the wall apart so the ACEs could throw masonry at the slowly climbing vine-like constructs of the smothering tech. The sudden impacts of the rounds above them gave them the impetus to keep the foe at bay for a little longer. But they also knew that the major had a metre of tough material to gnaw his way through.
~ * ~
In the front offices of the warehouse Harry and Marko had convinced the staff that they were wonderful people and that they — the staff and their security — should go to the local bars and have the rest of the day off. In a narcotic haze everyone agreed, even those badly knocked-about slavers who had managed to escape the ACEs in spite of the fact that they had either soiled themselves or were still heaving.
Realising that they could not contact the other crew members, Harry and Marko tried to enter the warehouse but found all the airlocks sealed. Helplessly, they watched the ACEs’ battle in the warehouse through the security video screens, learning early in the peace that the Games Board had control of every camera in and out of the building. They worked long but fruitlessly on opening the surface airlock and discovered that alternative comms links had also been blocked.
Above them, local flight control was bellowing in rage at the major so he turned the radio down, hoping that the shipyard’s defence measures would give him a minute’s warning before firing. He watched and held his breath as
Basalt’s
magazines slowly emptied, wishing that he had a few missiles but knowing they would probably be fatal to the ACEs even if he did have them.
~ * ~
The smothering tech was very close to the ACEs as a dent appeared in the airlock base, while rounds of iridium began to blast through; the air in the warehouse started whistling out through the hole, pushing the disc upwards. Glint yelled at the other two to climb onto him as he grasped the edge of the airlock joint and started to climb towards the hole in the airlock. As they neared it, Flint started to detach his rear limbs. As he programmed each one, and set them in place, they adhered to the wall and waited until the smothering tech came close, then directionally exploded, blasting the tech off the airlock to fall to the floor.
The rounds kept flashing through, almost cutting the disc clear, then the firing stopped. Minutes later Glint had them almost at the hole in the airlock where the air was now screaming out. Flint reached up, slicing through the remaining tenacious few parts of toughened steel that were hanging on, with only his front four limbs remaining.
With a bang, the final pieces dropped and Flint pulled himself up through the hole to be buffeted by the fierce wind; he pulled Nail up, then Glint himself shot up through the hole just as the first wave of smothering tech also reached the breach. The ACEs threw shattered pieces of concrete and steel at the tech, knocking individual pieces off, only to have them blasted up by the escaping air. Any pieces that touched them caused agonising burns, but they escaped serious damage as they ran from the hole towards the waiting Maul, which had three shipyard security Skuas holding it under arrest.
On
Basalt,
Patrick noted what Flint had done and smiled to himself as he had always wondered why the secretive Topaz had made additional sets of legs for the ACE and kept them in storage.
~ * ~
The inquest the next morning was held by the admiral himself. After reviewing every angle of the action and looking through the local constabulary reports he fined the major a large fee for the unauthorised use of an armed craft within a restricted area.
He then commended
Basalt’s
crew for supplying a most entertaining piece of AV, noting that their Games Board royalties more than covered the fine. Finally, he said that he saw little need to censure the major with an entry in his official record as long as the available members of
Basalt’s
crew attended a formal dinner that night.
~ * ~
Marko felt like a complete idiot and very uncomfortable in his starched uniform, complete with battle commendations and specialist decorations. Jan looked fantastic in hers, Julie and Harry looked at ease in theirs, and the major managed to look suave and sophisticated in his, much to the amusement of Glint, who kept wandering in on conversations between the major and female officers to interject and generally try to throw him off his game.
Even though they were the centre of attention, Marko was bored spitless. In his entire career he had never got the hang of small talk. Consequently, he was thankful that Jan was at his side to quietly steer him through the evening.