We had all been skirting the edge of sedition for months, but somehow with his current order, lines had just been drawn, lines that couldn’t be un-drawn in time to save us from being charged with treason if we were caught and if CAIT’s memory was ever scanned.
“Bloody buggering hell,” I said.
“Yes.” Mateo aimed. “Enter my orders into ship’s log at this date and time, by my orders.”
I raced ahead, knowing Mateo would fire over me. I heard nothing, but my faceplate showed me he had fired his lasers, all of them. The sound of engines grinding and failing clanked and whirred in the darkness, telling me he had aimed true.
I rounded another pile of rubble—a hotel, according to the remnants of its sign in my lowlight face-shield screen. I spotted three mini-tanks. One was overturned; another had crashed into it. The third was on its nose, rocking back and forth, trying to right itself. I tucked myself into a crevice behind a broken ancient cement-block wall. Auto-targeted two blasters at the humans I could see, but their heads and air filters were turned away. I fired anyway. Retargeted. Fired. Nothing changed. Their armor was old but solid at this distance and angle. It was going to have to be up close and personal again.
Watching for movement, I said, “Jolene. We’ve taken down three of Warhammer’s warriors. We have three more in sight here. So that leaves Warhammer and three others. Do we have any Maarsies still flying, and can you ping their positions?”
“We have two Maarsies left flying. No cameras. From their pings I am capable of calculatin’ their coordinates, though the mini-tanks will have moved well beyond the Maarsie positions.”
“That sucks. Work on that while I clean up here.”
The crashed mini-tank engines were hot, which would hide my heat signature on IR and decrease their likelihood of seeing me in lowlight. Two of the warriors were ambulatory and trying to get their buddy free, covering the night with blasters as they worked. Grabbing Spy with one hand to keep her from being slung around, I darted to the closest tank and fired from behind and beneath the tank at the driver. Point-blank at the air filters. The biggest weak point in the old armor. The driver died. I repositioned and fired. One more, then the other, died.
Spy bit my glove to make me let go.
“Sorry,” I muttered to her. She hissed at me, showing fangs.
“Jolene. Update. Only three enemy combatants and Warhammer remain active,” I said.
Mateo was already ahead of me. I took off after the warbot. For all the discomfort of having initiated the bodily fluids mode on the armor, I was glad I had, because it had been hours since I last peed.
* * *
Half a klick later I came upon three more wrecked mini-tanks. One driver was dead at the wheel. Mateo, fully visible, was holding another man by one arm, peeling his armor off by brute force. It was One-Eyed Jack, Warhammer’s Number One and mate. He was screaming. The sound got worse when Mateo started pulling off the man’s fingers.
Clarisse darted out from her overturned tank and fired a three burst at Mateo. It was like shooting at a five-centimeter-thick steel plate. Mateo ignored her and pulled another finger off One-Eyed Jack. The dangling man squealed. Clarisse fired fully automatic, her fancy new weapon bouncing with the action. In seconds she had emptied the extended mag.
Mateo swatted her with a leg. She flew in a tumble of limbs. Rammed hard against a tank track.
I felt the vibration of her landing as if I’d taken the blow myself.
In that fraction of a second, I realized our nanobots were weirdly attuned.
She pivoted and spotted me. I literally felt her eyes on me—invasive, crawly, heated with fury.
I knew her intent even before she raised a blaster. I lifted an arm to block and swiveled so Spy was protected by my helmet and body. The energies bounced off me. Spy dropped from my shoulder into the shadows of night.
I stood. Met her weird eyes across the distance.
“You’re about to die, Warhammer. And just for kicks I’m going to tell you why. You could have had anything and everything in the world. But you took Harlan. And so I’m ending you.”
Warhammer screamed in mindless rage. She swung the auto-gun around her shoulder on a strap. Caught it. Pointed it at me. But she hadn’t changed out mags.
I brought up my own blaster. Auto aimed for the air filter near her left ear. Fired. Steady stream of power.
Warhammer fired. Nothing happened.
My weapon still tracked. Melting a hole at a helmet air filter.
Warhammer ducked behind one of the tanks.
The blaster lost tracking.
From above me somewhere, One-Eyed Jack stopped screaming, now grunting irregular gurgling breaths.
