“Helmet.” He snugged it over my head and kissed the top of the helmet. “It’s cold out. The helmet will provide insulation.” He vanished again into the storm.
I discovered he was right—the helmet did help.
Tomika, the prez of the Sisters, and I were hauling gear toward the dilapidated buildings where her ladies and their cams were placed for cover, when the fist of the wind face-punched us and bowled us over, forcing us to retreat to the modest shelter of two boulders. The air temp dropped in seconds to well below zero, and cut like blades.
After that, the blizzard only allowed equipment moving via my earthmover.
Cupcake suggested that I make an igloo-like wall around the cobbled together HQ, which turned out to be brilliant, and was fast work with the earth mover and ready building material to pack down. The ice wall cut the wind and allowed the heat to build a bit above the freezing mark inside.
Still, getting everything and everyone in position took forever. I was frozen, my nanobots working overtime to keep me warm, but eventually, everything was in place and we had a decent shelter set up. With the earth mover safely between its boulders again, I raced back to HQ while I could still distinguish it from the rest of the whiteout, put on dry clothes and snuggled into my sleeping bag for warmth.
Cats joined me—Pounce, Spy, and two others I was clearly going to have to name.
Our people were out of the wind, more or less.
That was all I could do. That should be enough. We had food, shelter of sorts, fuel to stay warm by. But it wasn’t enough for my nanobots. My nanos really didn’t want my people to be stuck in a blizzard with forty kilometer per hour wind, freezing our butts off. And then still have to wait until the next day for action.
My nanos and I wanted my people safe.
Mostly, I wanted the roadhouse. I wanted to gohome.
Unfortunately, that option had passed the moment the storm changed track.
Inside the sleeping bag, Spy began to knead my thigh. She was drawing blood. I figured I deserved it.
Interrupting my self-flagellation and pissy thoughts, Jolene said, “Helos incoming. Four by my count. Three are the big mothers. Prewar, early twenty-first century, Sikorsky CH-53s.”
My cantankerous attitude vanished. Spy stuck her head out of the warmth and snuggled up to my ear so she could hear through my comms.
“I’m having to pull my drones back due to the wind and ice,” Jolene said, “but current scanners show the Sikorskys have a payload of heavy lifting equipment, weapons, scanners out the wazoo, AI capability, and active coms to multiple locations. The fourth helo is a brand new Bell Huey, fresh off the assembly line. Scanners show it carries mostly humans, what might be camping and cold weather gear, and small caliber weapons. Company’s coming, Shining Sugah. Break out the good China and the sweet tea.”
“What multiple locations are the Sikorskys chatting with?” I asked.
“An interesting mix of military and Gov. sites,” Jolene said.
CAIT said, “DC, Virginia, Charlotte, and Nashville.”
Tomika slid in under the tent with me, and by her expression, Jolene and I were broadcasting in a wide band to everyone. She said, “It’s gonna be hell to film anything with natural light in this mess. And with FLAIR we won’t get faces. We need the Gov. and militaryfacesto take them down.”
Jagger approached. I couldn’t see him through the blowing snow, but I could feel him nearing.
Over comms, I said, “Mateo, can you get close to the small pond and film the arrivals with the sister’s equipment?”
“Fuck that,” Tomika said. “I’ll get the gear. And I’ll climb into the warbot suit to film. It’ll be tight, but we can manage.”
I knew two people could fit his suit. Mateo had carried Evelyn home from Warhammer’s nest inside with him.
“Tight?” Mateo said. He laughed that gravelly laugh. “Your legs will be around my head, Sister. But yeah. It’s doable.”
“Won’t be the first time my legs been around a man’s head, spider man.”
Still with his metallic laugh, he said, “I’m thirty meters from your twenty. I’ll lift you in my exterior limbs and carry you to the buildings for the cams. You can get in here with me and I’ll move us and the gear to the containment pond.”
“Bring it on,” she said to Mateo. Tomika flashed me a big smile. “You are so much fun to ride with, girl.”
Without waiting for my reply, she grabbed a black arm that descended through the snow and pulled herself up. In one second, she was out of sight.
Around me, other people appeared and disappeared into the whiteout, finding places to either film or fight. Because the storm had just tossed all our OPLANs—operational plans—to the four winds.
