NEW SCI-FI THRILLER NOVEL "SEAGORA" - SLICE 29
The grand finale!
Galvanized by their proximity to the rendezvous point, Cactus led the way. It was all downhill from here. The hardest part at this point was keeping their balance on the slippery stone surface.
Suddenly, out of the swirling charcoal sky, a flying object became apparent. It caught Cidel’s attention first. He squinted and pointed skyward. “What is that?”
It came quickly into view. “A bird,” Ventorin said.
It came closer. “An eagle?” Escapo asked.
“No eagles up here,” Ventorin said.
Torcer focused hard on the incoming object. “That’s no bird. It’s a drone made to look like one!”
It swooped down with ferocity. The group scattered away. It caught a diving Escapo in the back of his shoulder. He howled with pain. Cactus shot the quantum disruptor. “This is gonna hurt.”
“It already does hurt!”
“Serves you right,” Cactus said as he yanked the fake bird out of the squealing giant’s shoulder. Blood began oozing through the soft parka. Cactus took a cloth from his backpack, wadded it up, and handed it to Escapo. “Keep pressure on it, stop crying, and start moving. They’ve recovered from the EMP.”
The slight rays of sun that had graciously appeared now began to recede as the local A.I. control resumed. They started down the slippery slope, but almost immediately Torcer called out, “Wait!”
He was studiously ignored by all except Ventorin. “What is it, Torcer?”
“Setarcos has a tracking chip.”
This got their attention. “What?”
“We had you put to sleep and put a chip in your forearm, when you first arrived.”
Cactus gave him a poke in the back with his hand cannon, “You’re just telling this to us now?”
Torcer said with raspy smugness, “I could have not told you at all.”
They all stopped and looked at Setarcos. He had looked sad and soggy before, but now he looked utterly contemptuous.
“We should cut it out,” Cactus said dryly.
“We?” Setarcos responded.
“We don’t even have a first aid kit,” Cidel said.
Torcer twisted his bartanned face and offered, “I’ve got a flask of Kelp Ale.”
Escapo cackled, “Alcoholism has its privileges, huh?” This caused a fresh stab of pain to ripple through his shoulder and he yelped sharply.
Ventorin offered to take the tracker out.
Setarcos asked skeptically, “With what?”
Cactus tossed a swiss army knife through the mist. Torcer took a couple of slick steps and carefully handed his prized flask over. Ventorin poured a dab over the smallest blade the knife offered and wiped it as dry as he could under the sparse cover provided by a half-naked tree. “Which arm?”
“Left.”
Setarcos held out his left arm, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Show me exactly.”
Torcer pointed to the underside of the forearm, halfway between the wrist and elbow. “If you press your finger there first, you can feel it.”
Ventorin did and told Setarcos to relax. He cut less than a centimeter square. Setarcos squealed. Ventorin pulled back the bloody skin and found a tiny wafer. With a steady hand, he gingerly leveraged the wafer out, and tossed it to the ground.
Then the humming came. Everyone looked around to find the source. Four drones appeared, one in each direction. Two were small and crescent shaped, and the others were larger and squid-like. Two biped synths also appeared. They marched in from opposite directions and had a multitude of weaponry openly and visibly attached to their limbs.
Ventorin quickly tied off the incision. They started scrambling down the slippery slope as the machines bore down on them.
Masher and The Mesh diverted all available resources to their pursuers. They neutralized all the psychological effectors that the government synths came armed with. This would at least keep the crew from being knocked out. They could not, however, manage to neutralize their weaponry of brute force. It also managed to reduce the shielding efficacy of the attackers’ armor. However, this heavy use of resources meant that their efforts to better the weather and atmospheric conditions was nil. It also left Masher’s own defenses minimal.
Setarcos squat down behind a tree and readied a heat-seeking dagger. A small burst of red energy shots left smoking stone as Cactus rolled behind a small ridge. Cactus fired his quantum disruptor, but to no avail. He cursed and cried out to Torcer, who was laying low behind some shrubs. “About 10 meter max!”
“10 meters? Really?”
“It’s a close range weapon.”
“No kidding.”
Escapo fired a sparkling shot from the prize he’d captured earlier. It struck a treetop, slicing a generous portion off. It crumbled loose, slowly, and tumbled down through the wind, striking down one of the crescent drones.
The biped synths dashed towards Setarcos and were drawing near. Multiple plasma-flux shots fired from Ventorin and Cidel bounced off their armor. Setarcos poked his head from around his natural shielding, and launched a heat-seeking dagger as hard as he could. It made contact with one of Ventorin’s shots simultaneously. The synth sparked and slowly crumpled over onto its expressionless face.
This caught the attention of the other biped, and it began firing short bursts towards Cidel. Cidel rolled behind a twisted tree, winced, and glanced at his leg, where he found a razor-thin line of searing flesh. Drizzle struck and provoked cool bubbles of torment through his nerves. The humanoid pursued Cidel further and as it did so Cactus took the opportunity, albeit a risky one, to come at it from behind. He ran his old bones as hard as he could and fired the quantum disruptor. It made contact, and the synth stopped in its tracks. Cactus dove to some partial stone shielding, but was caught from behind by one of the drones. He never saw it coming, and a fresh searing wound was brought into his weathered flesh on his left shoulder. He turned and fired the disruptor at his aerial foe and it was just close enough to receive a graze, which was all that it took to blank its systems and send it literally crashing to rock bottom.
Cactus yelled as loud as he could to the others, “Two of you barrage the crescent, and someone else help me barrage the other!”
Escapo got off a fine array from his oversized rifle, while Cactus unleashed a full clip from his Desert Eagle hand cannon. Cidel and Ventorin rained down on the crescent. Their shots eventually got through, due to the weakened armor provided by The Mesh’s interference. Both drones thudded to the ground.
“Shoot that humanoid while it’s offline!” Torcer screamed. “That disruptor only disables it for five minutes!”
Cactus staggered over and unloaded another clip into the biped's head. Ventorin cautiously peered up from his partial canopy of stone. “We should take their weapons! We’ll need all the firepower we can get!”
“Now why would you want to do that?” came an eerily familiar voice from the sky. They looked up and found a menacing cloud of Z-1 hovering. After an initial freeze from the surprise, they all raised weapons to it, except for Ventorin. He knew their weaponry was no match for it.
Z-1 split into four entities in the shapes of a wild dog, a menacing male face, a bouncing hypercube, and a raging fire. These new shapes surrounded the group.
Escapo swiveled his big cueball-head. “What took you so long to show up?”
“Well, I thought that you all wouldn’t stand a chance against some automatons. But it’s hard to find good help these days, so I decided to come handle you all by myself.”
Escapo grinned. “Bullshit.”
Everyone jerked their heads away from Z-1 and to Escapo. Dark clouds rolled quickly with the increasing wind. Thunder and lightning blasted over the horizon.
“You’re late to the party because you’re not running tip-top. You’re weak. All those EMOS over the years have taken a toll on you.”
The wild dog leaped at light speed and brought Escapo tumbling to the jagged surface. It’s glowing fangs gripped Escapo’s neck and gave an electric sizzle. Escapo bellowed loud enough to wake the dead.
The four became one again, a red and black cloud waving casually. “If I were weak, could I have done that?” Z-1 boomed arrogantly.
Cidel stared Z-1 down defiantly and said, “Weak ones commit violence. Does that answer your question?”
Cactus raised the quantum disruptor and fired. It had no visible effect. Z-1 cackled.
Then there was what could not be seen, and was not noticed by Z-1. The disruptor caused an impossibly small “backdoor” into Z-1’s systems, and Symphy was there to grab the opportunity. Symphy’s face had trance-like focus. Caro stopped pacing and took notice. She wanted to ask Symphy what was happening, but thought better of it. No need to distract. Just be patient. It was a strain to not know. Caro walked to her bedroom, and tried to find solace in the peaceful abyss outside her window.
Z-1 froze. Everyone else did the same for a micro-moment. Then it flickered uncontrollably, putting on a blinding display of zealous color. It shot into a twisted tree and shot back into the swirling charcoal sky. It roared like a record played devastatingly slow, then jibbered like an old cassette tape smoking forward and coming unraveled. Finally, Z-1 floated with devastating silence, falling slowly, back and forth, like a sheet of paper dropping through the air, gave a few more slight flickers, and vanished from sight.
Symphy gasped and shuddered. The connection Symphy had had with Z-1 for that brief instant had jolted her own system with unknown forces. Could this be what emotions are like?
The soaked and wind-whipped crew stood on a mound of uncertainty and gawked around in silence for a second. Torcer was the first to speak, “Would one of you geniuses care to tell us what the hell just happened?”
Setarcos and Ventorin gave awestruck shrugs. Escapo showed teeth. “The EMOS.”
Cactus said, “We need to move, regardless. We’re almost to the rendezvous point.”
They carried on in silence. Things stretched and distorted for Cactus as he struggled to cross the finish line. It’s funny how the end of a long journey seems to take infinitely longer than all points previous.
The A.I. government grid had received cascading errors due to its connection with the out-of-control Z-1. Nevertheless, two attack ships, one from the north and another from the south, were bearing down quickly on Masher’s position. One of those ships had destroyed the original rescue boat shortly before the EMP. The ship that had launched the EMP was on the verge of being captured as well. It was up to Masher. It couldn’t do any evasive maneuvers. It was too risky. If it moved, it might not be there to pick up the crew, and they’d be stranded.
Finally, the battered group could see the jagged shores in the distance. Ventorin throbbed with anticipation. It had been over 13 years since he’d been away from Patagonia, and nearly all of that time he’d been held there against his will.
Torcer was filled with uncertainty. What did Cactus intend to do with him? Surely, he would seek vengeance for all the pain Torcer had caused him. Either way, in the hands of his A.I. bosses, or at the mercy of Cactus, his personal prospects were grim.
Cidel was suddenly hit with a jolt of uncertainty as well. The prospect of actually surviving this preposterously dangerous mission was now becoming a serious possibility. Ventorin was back, so what would happen to his relationships with Caro and Setarcos?
The wind and rain steadily increased as Masher went out to greet them. “We’ve got to hurry. There are two attack ships on the way and will be here shortly.”
The small boxy ship steadied itself with its nano-stabilizers against the harsh rolls of the waves. It extended a transparent walkway over the tumultuous spaces between it and the arrivals.
Everyone shuffled in with renewed vigor and relief. After boarding and enclosing themselves in the cozy cabin, Masher and The Mesh launched them back towards the open sea.
Cactus approached Masher stealthily. “We need to make a pit stop.”
“Now is no time for jokes, Cactus.”
“Take me and Torcer to The Moneybit.”
Masher viewed Cactus’s old ship as it drifted, barely afloat, and badly damaged, just a few kilometers offshore. After seeing this internally, Masher said, “You’ve got to be crazy. That thing won’t last another hour.”
“Now,” Cactus grumbled.
“That doesn’t make any sense, Cactus.”
He wheezed and hacked, and then said, “Soon enough, you’ll see why we need to do this. Now please, Masher, change course.”
Masher sighed and obliged the crazy old man. Moments later, they were side by side with a severely damaged Moneybit. Escapo looked at Masher wild-eyed, “Are you lost, machine? What the hell are we doing here, next to this old wreck?”
A walkway extended from the top of the mostly submerged splinter up to the bow of the bobbing old Moneybit.
Cactus waved his hand cannon at Torcer. “Come on, we’re going.”
Torcer smirked at the old man’s boldness.
Setarcos was puzzled. “What are you doing, Cactus? What’s going on?”
Cactus looked at his young friend, the best human friend he’d had in a long time, and smiled with pure contentment. The contentment of someone who feels just right when they find their purpose and carry it to fruition. “See you in the stars, boy.”
Cactus and Torcer went up the walkway and almost lost their balance in the wicked and erratic wind. They tumbled clumsily into the old sailboat. Cactus put on a safety harness to guard against going overboard, and gave one to Torcer as well. “You might want to put this on, Torcer! It’s gonna be a wild ride!”
Torcer strapped in and kept amused eyes fixed on Cactus as he got the ship ready for its grand finale. He grabbed Cactus by the shoulder and yelled in his ear, “They’ll never escape, you know! Even if they get away now, that boy and his father will be hunted for the rest of their lives!”
Cactus struggled to hold the wheel. The boat rolled 90 degrees and sent the two men on their sides, as they gave a death grip to their safety harnesses. Water was up to their ankles already. The hull’s damages were slight, but in these conditions, the negative effects were multiplied.
40 knot winds whipped rain in their faces. The sun was starting to set and the gray sky was fading to black.
Cactus staggered to his feet and hugged the mast to brace himself. Suddenly, he felt, and then saw, the humming attack ship bearing down on their position. Torcer looked out helplessly as he splashed around, unable to keep balance. He turned his head to Cactus, who looked at him simultaneously. Their eyes met. Cactus looked ten years younger. He had purpose. Torcer thought for a moment. Why would the attack ship come for them? Why not the others? It didn’t make any sense. Then it dawned on him. That damn tracker chip.
Cactus smiled wide. Torcer laughed harder than he had in years. The bulky attack ship steadied itself and towered next to the small, rolling yacht. A motley mix of drones, roller-bots, and semi-autonomous humanoids came along the edges of the hull. Cactus pulled a smoke cannister, threw it, and shot it. This produced a great cloud barrier between the ships. He tossed the disruptor to Torcer.
The old man pulled a couple of molotovs from his backpack. He set up the remaining dynamite in the kitchen below deck, along with the two molotovs. Cactus gripped his Desert Eagle and a plasma-flux pistol. They waited for the smoke to clear.
They fired relentlessly. When Cactus ran out of lead, he pulled another plasma-flux and went trigger happy on that too. They held off the incoming invaders for a few moments. Just as they were about to be boarded, Cactus scurried down into the relatively dry area of the kitchen, lit a fuse and smiled. Just as a humanoid was grabbing Torcer and picking him up like a rag doll, a fantastic explosion threw the boat and all of its inhabitants with a fiery blast into the swirling sea-rage around them.
Symphy gasped and put a shaky hand to her finely angled face. While not an emotion, for synths were incapable of having true emotions, it was the closest that Symphy ever had to having one. A more than fifty year relationship with Cactus suddenly gone.
Caro peered around the corner anxiously after hearing Symphy’s reaction. “What is it? What happened?”
“I don’t know how to explain, so I’ll show you,” Symphy said with a jagged tone. The final scene of the life of Cactus played out on the holo-projector in front of Caro’s harried face. Tears streamed down. She sat next to Symphy and gave a long squeeze of sympathy. Symphy said flatly, “All others are on board with Masher and are making progress.”
Caro closed her eyes and melted in relief. Symphy asked if she’d like to speak with Setarcos. Caro nodded and trembled with a weepy smile. Symphy coordinated the communication relay with Masher and soon Caro was face to face with the exhausted group. Setarcos was tossing rivers of tears and could hardly talk. “Cactus….he...”
“I know,” Caro said sadly. “I saw. I’m very sorry, Setarcos.”
Ventorin threw a consoling arm around his son. Cidel stood back respectfully, not sure how to act in such a uniquely awkward situation.
Masher interrupted, “We’re not out of the woods yet. Symphy, we should cut comms until we get farther out.”
Communication was cut. The small and powerful vessel maneuvered through the depths with speed and grace. Masher and The Mesh took a macro view of any remaining threats that loomed in their path back to The Pit.. Things were looking good. Cactus’s ploy had dealt a vicious blow to the nearest pursuers. His single act had bought enough time for the escapees to gain a huge advantage. Masher marveled internally at what Cactus had done. Not only the innovative deception he’d pulled off, but more impressively, the sacrifice. He had literally sacrificed his own life to give them a better chance at escape.
The wounded, meanwhile, took account of the damage and nursed their aches and pains. Escapo lay in a corner, slumped gingerly on his side to try and ease the pressure on his back. Ventorin used a deep-tissue frequency beam from the med kit on board to treat his burns. Cidel and Setarcos sat in exhausted silence, with heated blankets as they slowly sipped steamy drinks. After about a half hour, Masher happily announced that The Mesh estimated their chances of safe arrival to The Pit to be 91 percent. This sent a huge wave of relief through all the human passengers. This allowed them enough piece of mind to grab a few hours of much needed rest. All except for Ventorin. He was too energized by his freedom. He felt a surge of passion as he watched the deep sea life flash by outside his artificial environment. He smiled internally and breathed deeply, with vast contentment at finally being out of captivity.
“Mom, I can’t breathe,” Setarcos managed to squeeze out of his vocal cords. Caro loosened her iron-grip bear hug a bit. She sighed and cried more tears of joy. She had her son back. Setarcos laughed, “I gotta breathe if I wanna build a space ship, ya know.”
She choked and smiled at his wit. She released him and glanced at Ventorin, then at Cidel. They were both standing on the other side of the living room. The two men stood near each other, hands in pockets, uncertain about what to do.
Ventorin wasn’t sure if Caro would want him back in her life after all these years. He imagined that she was content with her life with Cidel.
Cidel, on the other hand, still held angst towards Caro. She had deceived him throughout their entire relationship. How could he get past that? Not only that, but now with Ventorin back in the picture, what would Caro want? Would she want to remain with the man she’d been with for the past 12 years, or go back to Setarcos’s biological father?
Escapo stood nearby, speechless. He didn’t really know why he was still there. He felt like running away. Even though he’d helped rescue Setarcos, he was sure that total forgiveness was completely out of the picture.
Symphy also stood by, with her typically perfect posture. Her normally stoic face, however, had a deep, distant, thoughtfulness about it.
Setarcos and Caro broke free from each other for a moment. He went to Symphy. She went to Escapo.
“Escapo,” she said pointedly.
He looked at her with big, sad eyes, like a puppy that was seeking forgiveness. “Yes, Caro.”
“Thank you for helping to bring my son back.” She continued, “Now get out of my house.”
Escapo nodded and forced a smile. Then he looked over to Setarcos, who locked eyes with him, then looked away. Escapo exited in silence, never to be heard from in The Pit again.
Caro turned her attention to Cidel and Ventorin. They glanced around at each other. Ventorin broke the ice. “So Symphy said I could stay at her place until I get things figured out.”
“That’s very kind of her,” Caro said.
Cidel took a deep breath. He could see from the looks on their faces, especially Caro’s, that Caro and Ventorin still had a deep love for each other. He made a gut-wrenching decision in the moment. “Don’t leave on my account.”
Caro and Ventorin looked at him curiously. He continued, “I’ve decided not to stay in The Pit.”
“Cidel,” Caro began.
He didn’t stop. “No, Caro. It’s ok. I’m going to head into the open waters for a while, try to clear my head.”
Caro looked at him sadly. “I’m so sorry, Cidel.”
“I am too,” he said sheepishly. A tear streamed down his cheek. “I won’t head out for a couple days. I’ll say my good-byes then.”
Setarcos was speaking with Symphy. “Symphy, you look different than normal. You almost look sad.”
Her lip curled and eyes widened. “Your perceptions serve you well, Setarcos.” She paused, then continued, “I don’t know how to explain it. My neural pathways somehow grew so accustomed to the presence of Cactus in my life, over so many decades, that now it is as though a small piece of me is missing.”
She looked him sharply in the eyes, “Is this what emotion is like?”
Setarcos marveled at his companion. He smiled with wonder, “Sounds pretty close to me.”
She looked him up and down. Her facial expression changed. “Well, young Setarcos, we’d better stop standing around.”
“Why is that?”
“We’ve got a space ship to build.”
He grinned excitedly and his eyes burst with desire. “The homecoming party is over, huh?”
THE END
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