(Fusō Ameyuri)
When the outer door of the bunker opened, letting the rays of the rising sun and a light snowstorm into the transition zone, I wrapped myself more tightly in my thermal cloak. Well, not exactly mine... But who cares? What I was about to do probably wouldn't please any of the adults, but I didn't care what they thought. I wanted to find Dr. Musashi or his camp to get the answers I'd gotten from reading his journals. Or, if two years outside had been fatal for him, find his corpse.
Naturally, I didn't go outside unprepared. Guided by the doctor's equipment lists I'd found, I thoroughly searched his apartment, collecting remnants of his old equipment that might be useful. For example, his old thermal cloak with optical camouflage, a portable sound canceler, a prototype electromagnetic submachine gun with a charger and several spare magazines, a powerful UV flashlight, and a scanned copy of the journal. I even found a time dilation program on his laptop and copied it onto my OS! It turned out to be very useful... and I instantly developed a dependency on using it.
For some reason, the city map in the doctor's apartment didn't show the location of his research camp, so I'd have to find it myself. However, there weren't that many hangars in the city, only... a couple dozen? I'm sure I could get there quickly! I'd just have to plot a route from the nearest one and check each one.
As I checked hangar after hangar, I grew increasingly irritated. Wherever Dr. Musashi had set up his research camp, that wasn't near the bunker. I'd planned to check the areas near the Spire last. Unfortunately, that last arrived, and at the most inopportune moment — just as the sun was almost setting. I was torn between returning to the bunker and continuing the search, but I was increasingly leaning toward the latter. After all, I had brought camouflage equipment, which, according to the doctor's journals, had been tested and proven effective.
A few hangars later, carefully walking along the edge of the street in the moonlight toward the next hangar, I spotted a shadow flickering across the snow. I immediately froze and stared up at the sky, only to see nothing. A sense of dread, fueled by the knowledge of what it could be, paralyzed my movements. I could only hope and desperately wish that it wasn't a disassembly drone, and if the fleeting shadow did belong to one, that it wouldn't notice me under all my camouflage. Robo-god, why was I so presumptuous as to decide to spend the night in the city?!
I stood in the same position for almost fifteen minutes, silently stewing in a cauldron of my own hopes, fears, and reproaches. During that time, not a single shadow flickered on the street I was moving along. Taking a cautious step forward, carefully scanning the sky, I walked a few yards past the broken window of a store. Then I exhaled...
"Well, hello there, you little invisible shit!"
... And turned around abruptly. One of the disassembly drones towered over me, her hands on her waist, wearing a gorgeous long scarlet dress with detached sleeves, beautiful gray curly hair, and a shit-eating grin full of sharp teeth. According to Dr. Musashi's journal, that would be B.
We stared at each other for a few seconds straight, then I screamed and leaped through a broken storefront window, dodging the swing of her clawed hand. Landing my entire body on the floor, I skidded on the dirty floor and leaped toward the corridor leading into the building, accompanied by the laughter of my would-be assassin, who had also leaped through the broken window. A few turns later, I slammed full speed into the door blocking my path, shoulder-smashing it open. Death loomed on the horizon, and it wasn't letting me go today, judging by the clatter of the disassembly drone's feet.
Only when I burst out onto the street on the other side of the store did I remember I actually had a time dilation program, and I immediately activated it, quickly increasing the dilation factor to the maximum 60. As soon as everything around me slowed down, I mentally screamed, releasing all the terror I'd accumulated over the past minute. A murder drone! A very real murder drone was running right behind me, with the obvious intention of killing me and dragging me back to its lair to add my pathetic corpse to the Spire wall! Damn it, why was I so lucky?!
I pulled myself together fairly quickly, because hysteria clearly wouldn't help me now. The only things that could help me now were the UV flashlight and the railgun SMG. My hands slowly moved toward them as I surveyed the situation in front of me and plotted an escape route. Staying in the open was impossible, or B would catch up with me in the blink of an eye using her wings. For now, the only option seemed to be the side exit from the alley leading to the next street, from where I could try to fight back with my weapon or jump further over the buildings. Either way, I wouldn't go down without a fight!
Having lowered the time dilation ratio to a manageable 3, occasionally escalating to 6, I ran as fast as I could, simultaneously pulling my preloaded submachine gun from my hip holster with my right hand, setting it to maximum power on the side display, and the UV flashlight from my belt pocket with my left. Running outside, I leaped forward with a turn to land on my back and increased the ratio to 30. Watching the disassembly drone leap at me with her grin, claws extended, was utterly terrifying, especially considering it was much faster than me. In slow motion, I aimed the submachine gun at her head and pulled the trigger. A series of flashes and a barely visible flow of metal slugs flying at hypersonic speed accompanied the flashlight ray aimed at her. B's figure slowly burst into flame under the ultraviolet light.
I hit the target perfectly, watching as one after another the slugs pierced her screen visor, cracking it in the process. The recoil of the rapid-fire electromagnetic weapon was completely offset by my worker drone frame strength, so I manually shifted the submachine gun's line of fire, drawing a sort of circle so that the slugs hit all parts of the still-head, not just the center. As Dr. Musashi described, the more wounds the disassembly drone sustained, the longer it took to regenerate. I was planning to buy myself enough time to run very far away from this place. To the other side of the city, for example.
Unfortunately, even with the temporary deactivation of my would-be assassin, inertia remained an unshakable bitch. The deadly claws extended forward were aimed directly at my chest. Stopping firing, I shifted my hands so that the claws on disassembly drone's left hand ricocheted off it and caught the claws on her right, deflecting them completely. I thought my plan was as foolproof as a Swiss watch.
Unfortunately, it wasn't.
My attempt to ricochet the claws to the side and prevent stabbing my chest only partially worked. I reduced the dilation factor to 6 and savored the sight of the claws passing near my chest and slicing into my right shoulder, piercing it clean through. The pain slowly building in my arm suddenly faded into the background when the unexpectedly heavy body of the disassembly drone, still hurtling straight toward me due to inertia, and the old asphalt beneath my back finally slammed into me from both sides. Then the pain became blinding. It was too much for me, especially in deceleration. I immediately returned the dilation factor to 1 and faced the full consequences of my actions.
The scream of agony from my mouth probably echoed throughout the entire city. My body, crushed beneath the heavy corpse of my would-be killer, ached; my hand, impaled by its claws, ached; my processor, which had been using the time dilation program that long for the first time, ached. And my glasses hadn't survived our collision and shattered. Trying to move the limp and by no means lightweight body of the disassembly drone off me, I screamed as the pain in my arm flared even more intensely, because her claws moved with the corpse. Removing them in that position was impossible.
I dropped the flashlight, threw my cracked and dented glasses to the ground, and placed my left hand on the B's shoulder. Counting to five, I gave it a sharp push, trying to dislodge it from my body. The result was incredibly frustrating: besides the excruciating pain in my injured arm, I was only able to move the corpse a measly half an inch. After waiting a couple more seconds, I tried again. And again. And again. And again...
It took me almost nine minutes to free myself from under the body of the still-dead disassembly drone and pull my arm from her claws, which also turned out to be quite a task due to the constant flashes of pain in the process. Then I checked myself and my gear and almost sobbed: the submachine gun had died a hero's death, crushed between our bodies in the slam, and the optical camouflage system on my cloak had stopped working. All I had left was a UV flashlight and the time dilation program. And I also needed to hurry before B regenerated enough to reboot.
I tore off the right sleeve of my cloak and somehow bandaged the wound on my arm, trying to stop the oil leak. Better than nothing. Only then, placing my broken glasses, mangled submachine gun, and flashlight in my coat pockets, did I break into a run, heading straight for Outpost 7, barely able to see the road with my poor eyesight. Caution was temporarily off the wheel; I simply wanted to be as far away from the disassembly drone as possible when she woke up and decided to follow my tracks left in the snow. However, I wasn't allowed to get far.
"You're in the wrong place, aren't you, young one?"
I immediately activated the time dilation program and turned toward the source of the voice as quickly as possible, only to see nothing. I pointed the flashlight at him and turned it on, trying to spot my unexpected interlocutor. A huge dark figure stood in the shadows of the alley, blending incredibly well with its surroundings. It hadn't caught fire from the ultraviolet light, which was good news, but it still looked... unusual. A cloak similar to mine, a hood covering almost his entire face, two bright, poisonous green lights on the screen visor. Oh, and did I mention he was huge? Like, twice my height.
I only had one guess as to who it could be.
"Dr. Musashi? Is that you?"
"That would be me. Who's asking?" he said lazily, leaning against the wall of the building. I quickly jumped up to him, even more aware of the difference in our sizes and noticing more details.
"We need to get out of here, quickly! I disabled a disassembly drone named B on the next street, but she could come back online at any moment!" I said quickly, pointing in the direction I'd come from. Musashi's eyes narrowed slightly, and his lips curled into a grin.
"You use interesting words, young one. It seems you're the intruder who broke into my apartment, aren't you?" he asked, stopping leaning against the wall. I froze, realizing that, well, yes, I had actually broken into his apartment and stolen some of his things, and I smiled awkwardly.
"Ehehe, sorry?" he clearly wasn't impressed with my behavior.
"Fine, you can tell me who you are and what the hell you're doing out there at night, later. We really have more important things to do right now."
And then he simply grabbed me by the waist with his huge arm and held me close to his side, like a toolbox. I was about to protest, but then he turned toward the alley and picked up speed. I suppressed a squeal of fear and excitement as the doctor accelerated to much higher speeds than I could, literally flying through one street after another, maneuvering between debris and wrecked cars, and simply leaping over one-story buildings.
All I could do was hang under his arm, memorize the route, presumably leading to his research camp, and hope with a nervous smile that I wouldn't encounter any more disassembly drones today. Or ever again.
___
(Serial Designation B)
As soon as the reboot finished, I activated my optical sensors and looked around. My prey, the green-haired worker drone in the very familiar cloak, was no longer there. But there was spilled oil. So I had wounded it after all, before it... it...
That little bitch! It killed me! Shot me right in the head! How in the world did it manage to aim properly?! Where did it even get such a weapon?! Did the Vivisectionist start taking on apprentices?!
I expressed my disappointment with a loud scream into the night sky. The night sky, alas, didn't answer.
No way! That bitch won't get off that easy! It's wounded, and only a short time has passed since I passed out! It couldn't have gotten far! I'll find it and tear it to pieces! Into many tiny pieces, so I can devour them and process them into nano-material!
I spread my wings and took off, leaving cracked asphalt in my wake. The impudent worker's tracks didn't go far before ending in an alley. But there, much larger ones began, with a longer stride. Very familiar.
"Vivisectionist!" I hissed, gritting my teeth. He took it with him?! This is getting out of hand! Now there are two of them! But I'm not alone here either!
C-9/SD-B: I got two news, a good one and a bad one. Which one should I start with?
Q immediately responded. A moment later, D followed.
C-9/SD-Q: The bad one.
C-9/SD-D: The good one.
I snorted, continuing to follow the Vivisectionist's tracks.
C-9/SD-B: The bad news is that the Vivisectionist seems to be training an apprentice and arming it with weapons. An ordinary worker almost escaped me, and then shot me in the head.
Along with the message, I also sent a screenshot of my victim, just as she pointed her tiny but deadly submachine gun at me.
C-9/SD-Q: What.
I could sense Q's confusion and disappointment even from a distance. I was already embarrassed, please don't rub it in, dear.
C-9/SD-D: LMAO, skill issue.
I promised myself I'd sew "Maidenless" on her jacket this afternoon.
C-9/SD-B: Shut the fuck up, D. The good news is, I'm on the trail of the Vivisectionist. He's not as careful as usual today. How about tracking this freak down and putting an end to his activities once and for all?
C-9/SD-D: Good luck, have fun.
C-9/SD-Q: No, D, this time the three of us will get together and dismantle the Vivisectionist, screw by screw. We can make up for today's body count later.
C-9/SD-D: Fine, I've already done my part anyway.
WHAT?! HOW?! JUST HOW?!
C-9/SD-B: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MANAGE TO KILL SO MANY?!
C-9/SD-D: I don't play with my prey, and I'm not looking for an excuse to be a sub for Q, pussy.
C-9/SD-Q: Girls, either you shut up right now or I'll punish you both.
C-9/SD-D: Yes, ma'am.
C-9/SD-B: Yes, mommy.
C-9/SD-B: Sorry, ma'am.
I exhaled nervously. I hope she doesn't bring this up later. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Of course, she'll remember this.
Even while leaving his trail, the Vivisectionist did everything he could to mess it up: jumping across rooftops, jumping back down to the roads, passing through buildings, and even through basements. Eventually, the trail finally died out near the outskirts of the city, right in the middle of the street. While I was following and searching for further clues, both of my teammates had already flown in, expanding the search area.
"He couldn't have just vanished," Q said irritably, approaching the broken trail and looking around. "We need to comb this entire area. Every building, every room, every basement. We'll search until dawn. Quota can wait. Disperse!"
At the same time, a message from her arrived in the chat with a high-resolution map of the area, compiled at the very beginning of their activity on Copper-9, and now divided into three different colored areas. I identified the nearest building in my area of responsibility to check and, cursing the Vivisectionist and his apprentice, ran to search for them.
There were still over eight hours left until dawn.
___
(Fusō Ameyuri)
"At dawn, you'll return to Outpost 7. While it's night outside, you'll stay here, in my research camp," Dr. Musashi said, dropping me on my feet. I immediately jumped away from my savior, glaring at him with suspicion, and then looked around through broken glasses in my hand.
We were in a large, enclosed hangar, surprisingly intact for its age and the ruins of the area. A huge eight-wheeled vehicle stood in the center of hangar, it's nose pointed toward the sealed gate. Various boxy equipment, the purpose of which remained a mystery to me, was arranged at the walls, along with a few pieces of furniture, like a sofa, several chairs, closets, and tables. All of it showed signs of frequent use, not abandoned like the rest of the city.
"I hope I covered my tracks well enough..." Musashi muttered, removing his coat and hanging it on a rack. I as finally able to examine him in calm.
It was worth starting with the fact that he was huge. Like, seriously huge, almost twice my height, which was 4'2", and proportionally volumetric. Yet he still looked like a working drone. Just... big.
The acid-green eyes on his display looked a little tired, but content, which was only enhanced by the subtle smile on his face. He adjusted his long, anime-spiked, maroon hair, that covered his shoulders and back, and then gathered it into a high ponytail with thick elastic that was on his wrist. Also, his visible plating was colored a very dark gray.
He wore a decent long, beige turtleneck sweater that covered his neck all the way to his head, reaching mid-thigh below, and slitted sides from below to his belt. A black harness was fastened over the sweater, with an indecent number of pockets on the chest plate and belt. A sheath with a knife was secured above the chest plate pockets. There was also a revolver holster on the left underarm and four more pockets on the right. A similar number of pockets were also on his black pants, tucked into matching knee-high boots with half a dozen full-length straps on them.
I chuckled approvingly, liking the way Dr. Musashi looked. The old worker drone certainly had some style.
Big man sit down in one of the chairs, tailored to his size... and the seat height of which was only a head shorter than me. Yeah, being tall definitely had its advantages and disadvantages.
"Now tell me, what the hell were you doing outside the bunker walls of Outpost 7 last night?" Musashi asked, inviting me to sit in the second chair nearby. Jumping up and propping myself up in my hands, I climbed into it and made herself as comfortable as possible.
"I decided to look for you after reading your research reports..." I began, but was interrupted by him.
"Which couldn't have randomly fallen into the hands of a brat. Why did you break into my apartment? And how, by the way, there was a decent lock."
I glanced awkwardly to the side. My screen visor showed stressed dripping.
"It was the only apartment secured that hard in whole neighborhood, so I got curious, what secrets was inside," I twiddled my index fingers, telling him naked truth. "And I know some programming and electronics, so I made my own decoder. It worked..."
The doctor's heavy sigh couldn't have described his irritation better.
"Why do you need all this? Not only did you break into someone else's property, you also found my reports, read them, and still decided to commit suicide on the surface against a disassembly drone." The disappointment in Musashi's gaze was as lashing as a whip. I felt extremely lousy under his gaze. "You're very lucky that I heard your scream when you were chased, and arrived as quickly as I could. The fact that you managed to survive this long while running from a disassembly drone is quite an achievement, but not the one anyone should experience."
"I was curious..." I made the most pitiful face I could muster. Then my voice became more confident. "And besides, the Outpost is boring! I thought that I'll find you and some adventures!..."
"Here you'll find only hard work and cruel, petty death, if you are not inside the bunker after the sunset," Musashi interrupted me with an irritated grumble. "What kind of generation is this, robo-god, they're just looking for adventures for their waste port..."
He stood up from his chair, waved for me to follow him, and headed toward his workbench. I jumped off the chair and ran after him. The doctor sat down on the other chair with low backrest and opened a toolbox on the table.
"Take off your cloak and show me your hand. Since you're hurt, I'll fix it. And put your glasses on the workbench; I'll fix them later," he commanded, taking out some tools, tubes and wires. "What's wrong with your vision? Why didn't you fix it sooner?"
"Critical damage to the chip responsible for interpreting visual information, thanks to a couple of freaks and a locker," I muttered, untying the makeshift tourniquet from the torn sleeve of my cloak and then removing the damaged cloak itself, revealing myself in just a sleeveless turtleneck dress and thigh-high boots. "I don't want to fix it because I'm used to it, and it serves as a reminder to be more careful."
"You are dumbass," Musashi declared uncompromisingly, scanning the wound on my arm. I frowned at him. "Leaving sentimental damage for the sake of memories is incredibly stupid. You're lucky, it won't take much effort to repair your arm. Please sit on the table, since you're so small."
"I'm not small, it's you there an overgrown drone!" I lightly kicked him in the leg and climbed onto the open space on the table. The doctor immediately began repairing the damage to my right arm.
Yeah, lucky me. I was hoping to run into a serious researcher, but I found a grumpy old man. Well, at least he knows his job better than anyone at Outpost 7, judging by how deftly and painlessly he replaced the damaged wiring, tubes, synthetic muscles, and welded the edges of the wound.
___
(Serial Designation Q)
The hours passed, and still no results from the search of the area emerged. There were no traces anywhere except the last one, which ended in the middle of the street. It was as if the Vivisectionist had simply evaporated.
Reports from D and B arrived every hour, and I colored in the buildings we'd checked on the map, updating the file in the messenger. The fewer buildings left to search, the more I realized the futility of my efforts. The Vivisectionist was an old enemy, having begun his activities about a year and a half after our arrival on Copper-9, and since then, at long intervals, he had been harming us with various methods, all the while remaining in the shadows. Only a little over two years ago had his activity increased, along with his caution; otherwise, we would have tracked the bastard down long ago. But no, even now, he has managed to deceive us, to fool us, by giving us a false trail.
With only two hours left until dawn, and I was about to wrap up the search, we stumbled upon something interesting.
C-9/SD-D: How suspicious is it to stumble upon a relatively intact hangar in a city destroyed by a planetary cataclysm?
Along with the message came an aerial photograph. Honestly, the hangar looked just as battered as all the other buildings around it. So I decided to ask.
C-9/SD-Q: Clarify your discovery; I don't see any significant differences in damage from the surrounding area.
A couple of seconds later, the same photograph arrived with color-coded markings. Thanks to them, I realized that, yes, the hangar did look rather suspicious. All its windows were carefully covered with metal plates, and the roof showed signs of makeshift repairs. Apparently, D's professional deformation as a self-taught engineer, who handled all construction work in our Spire, had taken its toll.
C-9/SD-Q: Now I see. B, head there and keep an eye on the hangar, making sure no one leaves, if that's what I think. D, take a look around; you might spot more suspicious structures. I'll be there soon, too.
C-9/SD-B: On my way out, ma'am.
C-9/SD-D: Waiting for B to arrive, ma'am.
I slammed my fist into the wall, causing numerous cracks and a satisfying crunch of reinforced concrete, grinning all the while. Perhaps this was the Vivisectionist's lair. He sure had the nerve to take up residence here. In fact, we never specifically looked for him, assuming he lived in the Outpost 7 bunker. I deliberately questioned all my victims, trying to learn everything I could about him before killing them, but along with his increased activity, the worker drones who knew anything at all claimed he'd disappeared into the city. Oh, yeah. It's all coming together.
Stepping outside, I spread my wings and took off sharply, scattering snow, ash, and asbestos around me, then set course for the coordinates of Hangar D I'd found.
C-9/SD-B: On site, surveillance established. No infrared or ultraviolet radiation is detected in the area.
C-9/SD-D: Heading out to search. What's the radius?
C-9/SD-Q: How far can you cover in 30 minutes?
C-9/SD-D: Two-thirds of a mile, I think.
C-9/SD-Q: That will do, begin your search. If you find anything suspicious, report it immediately.
A few minutes later, I was there, landing on the building on the other side of the hangar from B's observation point. Together, we covered two sides each, so no one would escape through the street unnoticed. Unless there were underground utilities leading into the hangar... It doesn't matter, though. Depriving the Vivisectionist from a shelter was already a good move.
After half an hour of aerial reconnaissance, B hadn't detected anything, so I told her to return to us. A couple of minutes later, she landed next to me. Unfortunately, B and I also didn't detect a single movement from the hangar. Looks like it's time to check it out. There's still an hour until sunrise; we should have time to inspect it. At worst, we'll have to wait out the day in the deep of some buildings, or in the hangar itself. If all the windows are boarded up, then it shouldn't let any sunlight in.
C-9/SD-B: So, how will we get into the hangar? Just go through the door?
C-9/SD-Q: If the Vivisectionist is inside, we'll need to do it suddenly and from multiple directions to catch him off guard. D, can you estimate from here how strong the hangar's walls, roof, doors, and windows are?
C-9/SD-D: There's nothing to estimate, we can easily pierce this hangar from any angle with our own body and some speed.
C-9/SD-Q: Then fine. B, the main gate is yours. D, you'll enter through the roof. I'll enter through the side wall to the left of the hangar gate. If the Vivisectionist is detected, try to put him alive, but without unnecessary risk. If that doesn't work, you have my permission to use lethal force. Breach on my signal. Take positions.
C-9/SD-B: Acknowledged.
C-9/SD-D: Acknowledged.
I moved to my starting point on the building opposite the chosen hangar wall and settled on the edge of the roof, ready to push off and fly into the hangar straight through one of the windows. After waiting for my teammates to take up their positions, I gave the signal.
C-9/SD-Q: BREACH BREACH BREACH!
I leaned forward over the edge of the roof and, bracing my legs against the wall, launched myself forward, crushing my launch site into pieces and adjusting my flight with my wings. I covered the distance to the chosen window in the blink of an eye and, just before impact, formed a shield of wings, simultaneously forming an EMP generator and a submachine gun in place of my hands. The metal plate covering the window didn't slow me down for a moment, nor did the surrounding wall. Having broken through, I moved my wings behind my back and opened them like a braking parachute, then took a quick glance around the hangar. At the same time, D flew through the roof the same way, wings shield first, and the screech of B's torn gate was heard from the side.
He was here and clearly waiting for us. A tall, massive figure held a monstrous pistol in one hand and a huge knife, more like a machete in the other. He stood on the roof of a huge eight-wheel vehicle, half-sideways to me, looking toward the landed D.
Finally, we found him! Now...
The last thing I saw was the barrel of a pistol instantly pointed in my direction and the flash that erupted from it. I didn't even have time to cover myself with the wing before...
___
"So, there's no hope?"
These were unpleasant words. Unpleasant, but familiar.
"I destroyed them a second time, naturally, with the same result. Then I decided to try to contain them without destroying them," I said, refilling the rocks glass. I didn't offer this to my companion, of course; she was too young. "I tried storing the core in a shockproof container, additionally heated. I learned about this weakness when testing masers. It turns out heat affects them similarly to magnets, weakening them significantly. Without frames, cores don't require as much oil as they burn daily, so storage shouldn't have been too expensive. However, the Q's core, placed in such a container, didn't last even a couple of hours. What happened next is more reminiscent of some Lovecraftian horror story than reality."
I downed the JP-7 in one gulp and set the glass down on the table.
"The core began growing techno-organic elements at an incredible rate, completely ignoring the laws of conservation of energy. First, it shattered and absorbed the container, then the surrounding equipment," I gulped, indulging in unpleasant memories. "It probably would have absorbed me too, considering what a living horror it had become, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve, too."
A grin appeared on my face.
"Then I was saved by ultraviolet lamps and a flamethrower. I'd just wanted to test chlorine trifluoride on disassembly drones, to see how well their metal resists against one of the most powerful oxidizers ever invented. I doused the abomination with almost fifty pounds of chlorine trifluoride, and that was enough to burn it to hell. The subsequent fire had to be extinguished with large volumes of pure nitrogen, which required me to repeatedly create industrial nitrogen gas cylinders in a matter-printer at camp, but I succeeded."
I took the bottle of remaining JP-7 and took a sip straight from it. Fusō, meanwhile, focused her gaze on the empty glass, trying to process my words. She didn't last long.
"BUT THAT'S ABSOLUTE NONSENSE! TECHNO-ORGANIC CORES INSIDE SPECIALIZED WORKER DRONE HUNTERS THAT CAN TRANSFORM INTO A LOVECRAFTIAN HORROR IF NEEDED! THAT'S SIMPLY RIDICULOUS!" she screamed at the entire hangar, jumping up in her chair and clutching her head. How I understood her...
"Then I didn't repeat the experiment with the other cores. However, the next night, another ship arrived with Q on board, replenishing the losses. She's the only one on this team who is appearing to be the third iteration," I explained. "After that, I stopped my attempts at assassination and containment and focused on their software."
I nodded toward the servers at the other end of the hangar. Fusō, who had followed my gaze, stared at several man-portable boxes.
"This is already the sixth version of my hardware for hacking the software of disassembly drones," I explained, recalling my failed attempts to access their memory. "The previous five simply burned up from reverse cyber attacks, forcing me to abandon those field labs. This sixth version has as much processing power as the previous five combined, and the hacking software itself is constantly being improved on a separate server, where two neural networks have been waging a cyberwar against each other for three years now. I was planning to try it next week, but yesterday, the alarm in my apartment went off, and today, I spotted you in the city."
The girl awkwardly twiddled her index fingers. She had already apologized, of course, but the unpleasant aftertaste of such impudence still lingered. I was about to continue the conversation, but then I received a notification from the perimeter security sensors. Camouflaged thermal micro cameras spotted D circling in the air above the hangar. It seems my false trail didn't work properly, since they're scouting the area so far away. I immediately rose from my chair and turned my gaze to Fusō.
"It seems they've found us, or will soon," I explained, putting on a serious expression. "Get ready, we have to abandon the research camp immediately."
"What?! How?! Where?!" Young worker drone also jumped out of her chair and jumped down to the floor. "What are we going to do?!"
"I'll do all by myself," I interrupted. "Get on board the rover, just don't touch anything!"
"But!.." she tried to object, but I was in no mood to argue with an inexperienced teenager.
"Fusō! No time for arguments! Run!" I shouted, heading for the man-portable modules connected by cables and wires. Their current version, the second one, was significantly larger than the ones I'd made five years earlier. With the advent of a large, powerful frame, I could afford to scale them up by the same factor. Whereas previously they were cubes with a side length of two feet, now their sides measure four and are eight times larger, which impacts their quantity and efficiency. I gradually disconnected all the modules from the main power grid, then disconnected the wires and cables and transferred them to the rover's cargo compartment.
My evacuation rover was a version of one of the experimental human military IFVs, designed to carry nearly fifty fully equipped personnel. Naturally, it never went into production due to its size and the high cost of the many new features crammed into it, but for my purposes, it was perfect. I only scaled it up for myself, made from even more durable materials and left the cargo compartment empty instead of the four rows of seats originally planned. There was just enough space inside to install and move all the mobile equipment in my research camp, and there was even a spacious passageway left. Honestly, I should have moved everything inside a long time ago, right after I finished building my... mobile home? Yeah, I'm planning on living in it now. Why didn't I do it sooner?
Who am I kidding? I'm just a lazy hunk of iron. And there wasn't any proper incentive, until today.
Moving, installing, and reconnecting all the equipment and furniture took me about twenty minutes. While evacuating my research camp, I was also busy observing the surrounding area. First, B joined D circling my area, and then Q took up an observation position on the other side. The microphones didn't detect any audible conversations, so radio communication was involved. The bastards were well-experienced at countering my ECM, so I couldn't jam them. But I wasn't about to just wait for my fate.
"Fusō," I stepped into the rover's cabin. She was sitting in the driver's seat on the left, and immediately turned to me when I called out to her. "I don't know how much time we have left. I'll try to neutralize them so they don't follow us. However, while my chances of victory are high, they're not absolute. If I can't kill them, I'll delay them as long as I can, and you'll leave. This button here activates the autopilot; it knows the route and will guide the rover independently. This one activates the automatic defense system; it won't let them get to you quickly. There's only an hour left until dawn, so your chances are pretty good."
"No! Let's just leave together right now!" Fusō exclaimed, standing on the seat and slapping the backrest.
"The system might protect against one disassembly drone, but not against all three," I upset her, while smiling. "Don't worry, I'm not going to die. After all, I held out against them for seven whole years; I can definitely hold out for another day."
"Dumbass, don't jinx your chances! And don't you dare follow the cliché of 'empty promises'! Otherwise, I'll disable the autopilot and take control of the rover's weapons myself!" the girl said angrily, making an "I watch you" gesture.
"Hmm, yeah, that makes sense," I nodded, rubbing my chin. Following stupid tropes clearly wasn't my plan. "Fine, sit still and wait for the signal. The signal would be either me alive and three disassembly drone corpses, or me dead and two corpses." And as I was walking toward the rear ramp of the rover, a mangled prototype of an electromagnetic submachine gun hit me in the back of the head, accompanied by an angry tirade.
"I told you, stop jinxing your chances, you stupid doctor!"
Snorting, I exited the rover, pressed the button to close the ramp, and jumped onto its roof. Checking the outer cameras, I located Q and B and pulled out my revolver and combat knife. Perhaps I was being too harsh on the compact electromagnetic weapon technology, considering that B was recently killed with my old prototype, but I simply liked the design and feel of the current revolver. Still, I don't mind the extra gun; I'll just make myself a second one later.
A few minutes later, D, having completed her aerial reconnaissance, appeared on the cameras, landing near Q. They had clearly agreed on something and began taking up positions to assault my hangar. I shifted, aiming my revolver in the direction from which Q would appear, and pointed my knife at D, who took off into the sky. B should have emerged through the hangar's main gate, and I was even tempted to tell Fusō to engage the autopilot early to run her over, but I resisted. Let them think the rover poses no threat, for now. It's certainly armored and durable, but the disassembly drones have an arsenal that goes beyond small-caliber firearms.
I watched the final moments before the assault with the time dilation program active, so I didn't miss its beginning. And as soon as Q made a spectacular appearance through one of the welded windows and the section of wall around it, I didn't have to move my revolver far to fire a hypersonic armor-piercing depleted uranium round directly at her head. The disassembly drone's head ceased to exist up to the base of its neck, scattering in a shower of debris and shrapnel. It looked especially beautiful in tenfold slow motion. With a second shot to the waist, I tore her body into two more pieces, increasing the time until full repairs.
The score is open. One down, two to go.
D activated the strange device protruding from one of her hands, and nothing happened except the ceiling lights went out. The bastards wanted to use an EMP on me? Surprise, I was shielded from it too. Seeing the lack of results, D swapped her EMP generator for her sword blade and began firing at me with the submachine gun in her other hand, simultaneously jumping toward me. I aimed the revolver at her as fast as my frame and air resistance allowed, ignoring the small-caliber bullets. Even though they were armor-piercing, they didn't do any harm. I was only sorry for my clothes, which didn't stop the bullets. Just as the line of fire reached the disassembly drone, which had managed to use her wings as a shield, I fired at her. The bullet penetrated the wing, of course, but it had served its purpose, and the projectile hit D's torso after losing most of its speed, only damaging her clothes. So I jumped forward, straight at her, one leg out in front of me, and struck her right in the shield of her wings. Maybe I had less speed but more mass, so I pushed her back. I pushed off her wings and swung my revolver back, where B had just jumped onto the rover. She didn't have time to cover herself and took a bullet right in the neck, which tore off her head and sent her body flying back toward the entrance.
Two down, one left. And one bullet in the revolver.
Turning back to D, I just managed to dodge her wing, its sharp edge flying straight at my head. Following it, a stinger filled with nanite acid flew towards me, which I managed to stop with a knife in my other hand from moving toward my screen visor just a couple of inches away. Knowing the weapon's vile ability to inject acid not only on impact but also without it, I aimed it sideways, straight at the wing of the disassembly drone I'd dodged a moment earlier. I caught it just in time — a thin stream of nanites erupted from the stinger, coating numerous metal feathers and immediately began its work. I kicked D in the clear part of wing, turning her around, and kicked her in the back, sending her skidding across the floor.
A brief moment of respite allowed me to see D, without a moment's hesitation, lop off her own wing, coated in nanite acid, with her own blade. Brutal.
"That must be hurt," I said, reducing the dilation factor to 2 and pointing the barrel of my revolver at her. She frowned and responded, aiming the laser cannon at me.
"This pain is nothing compared to what you'll feel during what we're about to do to you."
I smiled.
"Not in this life, Serial Designation D," and fired. The last bullet from my revolver blew D's head off just like it had Q's at the very beginning of our battle. She didn't even have time to use the laser gun.
Three down, none left. Ace in fifteen seconds.
I immediately reloaded my revolver and headed for the corpse of the one-winged disassembly drone. I needed to inflict more damage on them all before I escaped from here in the rover. Grabbing her leg, I pulled her closer to the rover and followed Q's corpse. A minute later, all three corpses lay next to each other, actively regenerating. I had about eight minutes before any of them would regrow a head. So I made things worse by ripping off each of their arms and lower part of their frames down to the chest. This would increase the full recovery time to about an hour and a half, meaning until dawn. To prevent them from trying to reconnect with the severed body parts, I scattered the torsos with the cores in various corners, deciding to take the remaining body parts with me. As the saying goes, you can never have too much material.
I opened the rover's landing ramp using the remote control and immediately grabbed Fusō under her arms as she rushed to hug me.
"You're alive!"
I stared at her. She fidgeted nervously in my arms.
"I never doubted your victory, not at all," she muttered quietly, twiddled her index fingers again. I rolled my eyes and released the girl to the floor.
"Throw the remains inside the rover and let's get out of here."
"Will do!"
Between us, we were done in a couple of seconds, leaving behind only three regenerating torsos and a wing nearly dissolved in nanite acid in the hangar. Just in case, I walked over to its remains and spat on them, shutting down the nanites. What a useful thing, this anti-nanite saliva generator.
Pressing the button to raise the landing slip, I walked into the cabin and sat down in the driver's seat. Fusō took the turret gunner's seat. I didn't remove the turret from the original design, only swapping the armament for a more suitable caliber after scaling up, naturally modifying it in a similar way to my revolver. It became too powerful, but I didn't complain.
"At dawn, I'll drop you off near Outpost 7; you can walk the rest yourself," I told my passenger, starting the rover's engine and rolling it out of the hangar. It wasn't so wide that it wouldn't fit on the street, but it easily filled two lanes. I could see through the CrystalDome system that the sky had already noticeably brightened. Excellent, I'll enjoy the scenery on the ride to my next destination.
"Wait! You're leaving Outpost 7?!" Fusō exclaimed, jumping up from her seat.
Considering today's events, it would be the height of stupidity not to. After all, my research camp had been compromised, as had the rover. I was confident I'd provided the work drones with a few days' peace, as the disassembly drones would surely be searching for me all over the city. As unfortunate as it was, I had no desire to hide and wait for them to calm down again so I could recapture them and conduct further experiments hacking their software. After all, disassembly drones were a ubiquitous phenomenon, so it didn't really matter where I studied them.
"Obvious, isn't it?" I asked, glancing in her direction.
"I'm coming with you!" she declared flatly. I rolled my eyes again. I think I was starting to develop a habit.
"Don't be stupid, Fusō, you see what I'm dealing with," I made a token attempt, knowing firsthand that at that age, worker drones rarely listen to their elders.
"I'm not afraid!" she continued. I suddenly realized why I'd left the Outpost. I was tired of this kind of whining from the other worker drones. Definitely that, and not because I'm an unsociable loner with terrible social skills.
"Bold and stupid," I sighed, turning off the streets onto the road leading out of town. "Fine, if you have a death wish, be my guest. Then remember, from now on, you obey me without question. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to jump, you jump. If I tell you to kiss the disassembly drone, you kiss. Otherwise, I'll spank your ass so hard it glows hot red. Got it?"
"Yes!" she exclaimed joyfully, giving a fist pump.
"Anyway, why don't you want to stay at the Outpost?" I asked, watching as the huge, heavy eight-wheeled all-terrain armored combat vehicle rolled over the remains of abandoned cars on the road, crushing them into pancakes. I didn't skimp on the thick airless tires, making them truly indestructible.
"It's boring and lonely there," Fusō replied after a short pause, sitting back in her chair. "And who needs me there anyway? Even my parents disappeared one after another outside..."
Ah, so that's it. Kindred spirit.
"Welcome to the loners club, kid," I said. "We have matter-printer, D cell alkaline batteries, JP-7 jet fuel, and quiet moments alone."
"Yay," she said resignedly, making me smile.
I think we'll work together.
___
A/N (from Joecola): Yes, for now at least, this is canon to the wider fic. Musashi is just downright nuts with the worldbuilding he's wanted to do in the background, and morbid curiosity has led to me wanting to see how far he's willing to go.
I now have a DD team for all 12 Outposts on Copper 9, lol.
Musashi also has plans for the roadtrip that started at the end of things here, so expect to see trips to Outposts on all the other continents. I have some plans for Outpost 9 in particular...