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Authors: Bill Denise

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BOOK: Shedding the Demon
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. . . You are killing
the others just like you. . . .
 
. . . You are killing
your own. . . .
 
Then they were no longer the faces
of strangers, but they were his friends. He could see faces he knew so well
from his childhood, boys and girls he grew up with, who became the men and
women of his Family. In his mind he turned away from them and he saw more
nameless people. These also sprawled across the ground, horribly destroyed by
the power of his weapons.
His weapons
.
 
. . . You are killing
your own people. . . .
 
. . . You are killing
your own Family. . . .
 
The vision changed focus, showing
him more faces he recognized and there, off to the side.
Lying alone.
Dying.
He saw Andrea.
Her face was ashen and her body torn to shreds, but her eyes
fluttered open and she turned to look at him, pleading for his help. She opened
her mouth and spoke:
 
If it was me, I would rather rot
in a cell forever than do their dirty work for them. . . . You can’t
trust them. It’s a lie, or a trap.
 
Damon recognized these words, and
they brought him back out of the vision. His hands were shaking and tears
filled his eyes. These were some of the last words he heard Andrea say to him,
her final instruction.
Yet another lesson I ignored,
he thought
bitterly.
He tried to stand, but his legs gave out beneath him and he
nearly fell. He quickly sat back down, his whole body trembling.
“Ken!” he said a bit too loudly, startling his partner. “Tell
me everything you’ve learned about this company and their factories down below.”
For the next hour, they reviewed the intelligence that Ken
had gathered from many different and diverse sources. Damon was impressed not
only with Ken’s ability to ferret out data, but also his ability to analyze it
and draw conclusions.
During the discussion, Damon received a message from Gregor.
Even though he didn’t read it immediately, he had a good idea of what it said.
Once he and Ken completed their review to his satisfaction, he viewed the
message from Gregor. It was short, simple, and not surprising:
“Target deemed hostile. Destroy immediately,” Damon read out
loud to Ken, who snorted in disgust.
“Target deemed hostile! Ha! To who? The Council? Hardly!
What are they looking at? Do they have anyone, any single person who knows what
they’re doing?” Ken was ranting and Damon let him carry on for a few minutes.
Finally, he interrupted, “Ken! I’m not going to do it.
Simple as that.”
“You’re an idiot!” Ken yelled back, causing Damon to recoil.
“You already placed the charges!”
“Yes, but I just won’t send the detonate signal,” Damon
replied calmly, not quite understanding Ken’s anger.
Ken stopped for moment, visibly calming himself, and said, “They
don’t
need
you to send the signal, they can do it themselves.”
“How can they detonate them?”
“They have all the codes, they know you planted the charges,
it was in your mission log. All they have to do is send the detonate code
themselves.”
“But they can’t get a signal that deep. That’s why I
couldn’t communicate when I was down there.”
“That won’t stop them. They can rig a set of relays through
existing communication systems and get the signal deep enough. I could do it,
so I’m sure they could too. You shouldn’t communicate that way because it’s not
secure, but for something simple as a detonate code, it would be fine.” He
paused and looked intently at Damon. “They could set them off anytime.”
Silence stretched between the two men as Damon tried to
understand what he had heard. Finally he said, “I’ve got to get down there
first. Get down there and remove the charges, or disable them. Can you slow
them down somehow?”
“Good idea, I think I can. I won’t be able to block them
completely, but I can buy you some time. But it’s dangerous for you. Can your
armor take a direct hit from one of those bombs?”
“I don’t know,” Damon replied, although he thought the
answer was actually ‘no.’
“You’re a terrible liar,” Ken stated. “And there’s a bigger
issue at stake here. Once you defy their orders, you’ll become a fugitive, and
they’ll hunt you down with everything they’ve got.”
Damon laughed, “Then it’s a good thing I have criminal
friends!”
“I’m no criminal,” Ken huffed with faux offense.
“Oh, of course not. Now, once you set up whatever it is that
you’ll do to slow them from detonating the charges, I need you to prepare to
hide. Whatever you need to do, whatever you need to buy, here are my credit
codes, which should be good for a few more hours at least. Work your magic to
get us set for the fallout from my actions.”
“Sounds good, and you? What about you?”
“I’ve got to take care of those charges. Once I’m done I’ll
contact you and we can arrange a pick-up.”
“Good luck!” Ken said sincerely.
“Same to you,” Damon replied, then he paused and added “and
thank you. Thank you for . . . well . . . everything you’ve
done.”
Damon took a small shuttle to the planet. Ken worked on the
communication system while he moved to a safe tunneling distance In case he
needed a quick get-away.
Damon decided it would be best to acknowledge the receipt of
orders as he normally would, and indicate that he intended to detonate the
charges himself. He estimated that he had about two hours before Gregor and the
rest of the command would get suspicious.
Chapter Eleven
 
Back in the city, Damon was forced
to move at the pace of the crowd. He could feel the countdown ticking away
without accessing his HUD, but he forced himself to remain calm. Once he
reached the Ruins he began to move quickly, and he found the path he had taken
on his earlier visit.
In only thirty minutes, he found himself on the level of the
confusing corridors and passages that made up the underground factories. From
there, it took another fifteen minutes to find the first explosive. He disabled
the charge and took a minute to survey his surroundings with low-power
scanners. His guidance system, working without the usual support of satellites,
took the data and compared it to the maps on record and with the scans he took
on his first visit in order to orient itself and provide clear directions to
the remaining charges.
One down, nineteen to go in a little over an hour,
shouldn’t be a problem,
he thought as he dropped to the floor and began
moving toward the next explosive. Damon’s thoughts drifted to the new direction
he would now have to take, if he went through with his defiance of the Council.
No more of the easy life he’d been living, the good pay, good food, and the
freedom to do whatever he wanted to do.
Except when they need someone killed or some factories
taken out.
He realized that he would become a fugitive and have to learn
how to hide, which could be difficult in this body.
What if I need more ammo? What if I need repairs?
The
second thought made him pause for a moment, but he realized there must be
biolectric surgeons somewhere that would be able to help him. But trying to do
so outside of the system could be difficult.
Is this really the right way to
do it?
Once again he longed for Andrea’s advice, or maybe Joann’s, or even
Ken’s, but he found himself trapped with no one to turn to but himself.
The sound of artillery fire and a warning from his HUD woke
him from his thoughts just in time to catch a high-velocity shell in the chest.
The impact felt as if it broke some ribs, and it threw him backwards into the
running machinery, where he found himself caught up in various gears, motors
and wiring. He found it painful to breathe, and the wreckage of the machinery,
which was still trying to perform whatever function it was intended for,
effectively trapped his arms and legs making it impossible to bring any weapons
to bear.
Another shell slammed into the machine beside him, luckily
not catching him in another direct hit.
Now he had a target on his HUD and fired an anti-vehicular
missile. The missile bounced in mid-flight as it hit some of the debris hanging
down from above, but its sophisticated guidance system was able to compensate
and it scored a direct hit on the artillery piece. The target was destroyed,
but Damon knew he had very little time to extricate himself from the mess of
cables and machine parts that seemed to be intentionally grabbing onto him.
He cried out as his left wrist was caught between two large,
hardened steel gears that were still turning. He felt the intense compression
of the armor and the reinforced bones beneath, but he was unable to do anything
other than strain against the pull with all of his enhanced strength. He cried
out and yanked his right hand free. Rolling toward the left, he punched one of
the gears as hard as he could, shattering it and freeing his hand.
His breath came in short, shallow gasps and he felt a moment
of nausea looking at the damaged wrist. Using enhanced magnification, we saw D-SAP
scales flaking off of the crushed and twisted surface. He tried deploying the
weapons in the wrist, but none of them responded.

Kyndra’s tears!
” he cursed. Using emergency
protocols, he instructed the D-SAP on the wrist to harden completely, and was
relieved to see that it responded. Testing it with his right hand, he found
that the armor maintained integrity, and would still protect the area, although
it was no longer as strong as it once was. He decided to leave it in a solid
state for safety and instructed his control systems to keep it that way.
His HUD flashed again with two more targets closing into
range, and Damon could see both were of the same type of artillery. Now that he
knew what they were capable of, he didn’t want to let them get any closer. His
chest still hurt with every breath, and he spared a moment’s concentration to
check the medical display, which glowed red with warnings, but offered no
immediate solutions.
“. . . 68% . . .”
He decided against the Trip-PC, but he wanted an energy
weapon to take out at least one of the targets quickly. He deployed one of the
lasers from his wrist and drew a bead on the first target. Once he had a green
reticle, he let loose with a full-power volley, letting it slice through the
intervening machinery and punch holes into the target. Immediately, his HUD
noted that it was effectively disabled as it ground to a halt and powered down.
Damon quickly stowed the laser and moved toward the second
vehicle, which would be rounding a corner and firing in less than two seconds.
His power was too low to risk more high-power weapons, so he prepared a
missile. Unfortunately, the missile needed to be in line of sight before firing,
which meant risking another hit in the process, but he had little choice.
Just before the artillery platform turned the corner, Damon
dropped to his knees and held his mostly useless left arm covering his chest,
while instructing the targeting system to fire as soon as the missile locked.
It turned out that his system was better than his opponent’s and the missile
fired a half second before the artillery. The shell moved faster however, and
Damon was barely able to duck out of the way of a direct hit, but was knocked
off balance by a grazing blow to his shoulder. The weapons platform exploded before
it had a chance to reload.
Damon stayed on his knees for a moment, and tried to calm
his breathing. He looked at his damaged wrist again, and cradled it in his
right arm.
He checked his HUD for further targets and found nothing
else in the immediate area. He activated a quick active scan since he was no
longer hidden anyway, and found many new targets converging on him. Just
soldiers now, although he did not know what weapons they carried.
He ran a pathfinder program to plot his best route to the
explosives while avoiding as many targets as possible. He did not want to turn
this into a bloodbath if it could be avoided. He no longer felt indifferent about
the people he killed.
The pathfinder was complete and Damon followed the
directions shown in his HUD. He shut down all active sensors, which hindered
his knowledge of enemy movements, but helped him hide.
From what he saw before shutting down the sensors, these
troops were well trained and knew what they were doing.
A chill ran down his back as he realized these were real
soldiers. He thought about his injury—he’d never been damaged before. Rubbing
his left wrist, he decided he couldn’t afford to hold back, not against
professionals.
Here we go, he thought, and it’s going to be interesting!
He tried to keep as much machinery between him and the
soldiers as possible as he followed the path. Sometimes he was able to break
through the walls into parallel corridors and travel out of sight that way, but
it was risky since he couldn’t make holes quietly. He had removed four more
charges without incident, but it soon became obvious that his pathfinder
couldn’t help anymore without an updated scan. However, if he activated his
scanners he would be detected immediately.
I’m really on my own now, have to
rely on passive sensors and visual line of sight.
He hadn’t realized how dependent he had become on the
technology that he used every day without thinking.
A few minutes later, he found himself hemmed in between two
squads of troops and the wall. He sat on top of a concrete pillar near the wall
and could just barely see over the machinery to locate the men stalking him.
Damon realized he had no options other than revealing his location, but if that
was the case, then he decided to make it worthwhile. Holding up both hands he
deployed his entire array of slug guns and then cursed as he remembered the
left was completely disabled. He launched himself into the air, executed a neat
somersault, and landed on his feet running across the open area in front of the
nearest squad. He was surprised how quickly they reacted, and he felt the
impacts of autorifle rounds even before his feet hit the ground.
He fired his slug guns into the ground in front of the
nearest soldiers, kicking up concrete shards and dust, creating a smokescreen
of sorts. Some of the men would take lacerations from the flying debris, but at
least he wasn’t killing them. He stopped briefly near one of the hidden charges
and cursed again because he only had one set of weapons to deploy. He had to
stop firing the slug guns in order to use the laser on his right hand to melt
the controls of the high explosive and render it useless. In the few seconds it
took him to disable the charge, he absorbed multiple hits from the powerful
assault weapons in the hands of his enemy. They did not damage the D-SAP, but
they hurt more than usual. These men either had more powerful weapons than he
usually faced, or there was a problem with his armor integrity. Damon moved as
quickly as possible out of the line of fire and tried to get lost in the
complex machinery around him.
He hadn’t gone far when he realized he was cornered and had nowhere
to go without killing people in the process. He stopped after turning a corner
and leaned against the frame of the machine behind him, breathing heavily.
There were three corridors approaching his location; one from around the corner
he had just turned, one straight ahead and another offset from where he stood
and running off at an angle. His chest hurt, and his wrist was useless which
eliminated about a third of his offensive options. There were three squads
converging on him, one from each corridor around him. He thought about breaking
through the machine itself, but when he remembered the heavy gears and
shuddered.
He ran through the inventory of his available weapons, a
list he rarely bothered to study in depth. While looking at the various
grenades loaded in his magazine, he found a couple of non-lethal options that
might get him out of this spot. He launched three smoke grenades, his entire
stock, down the three adjoining corridors to give some cover. He then followed
up with a gas grenade down one hall, which should knock the men unconscious if
they weren’t wearing masks. Down the other two corridors he fired concussive
grenades that might slow down the pursuit, although they probably wouldn’t have
a big effect. Once the grenades detonated, he fired a few slug gun rounds to
make the soldiers take cover and ran down the hall after the gas grenade.
Sure enough, he found prone bodies in the hall, and he was
glad these soldiers were sloppy in that respect. He didn’t have long to think
about his good luck but made a beeline for the next explosive. When he arrived
at its location, he melted it as well with a small laser.
“. . . 41% . . .”
He sighed and hung his head.
I’m never going to get to
the rest. These guys are good.
Damon called up the sensor map of the area and tried to find
a Debar reactor that he might use to recharge. Finding nothing nearby, he crouched
down next to a wall and tried to think. He couldn’t help looking at his wrist
again, and squeezed it tightly with his right hand. He rocked gently on the
balls of his feet and his vision jumped from one readout to another on his HUD.
The control system couldn’t decide what to display since his thoughts were so
scattered.
He took a few quick breaths, but still couldn’t breathe
deeply due to the pain in his chest. Finally, he sent a few quick pulses from
his active sensors to find his pursuers.
He watched their movement on the HUD for a few moments and
realized the grenades did very little to slow them down. He stood in the
intersection, trying to decide which way would be best to avoid confrontation
or at least minimize the loss of life. The nearest targets were still a minute
away since they were being cautious in the smoke clouds, unsure if they
contained more gas.
Damon snapped his head up as his HUD beeped and displayed a
new target, a mere ten feet away.
How did he get so close?
was all he
had time to think before the man fired his strangely bulky gun.
It made an unusual sound, like a puff of compressed air
rather than a typical explosive report. Damon dodged and fired back taking the
man down. A sharp stinging sensation bloomed across his right arm.
He didn’t see any damage, but the sting turned into burning.
Running his left hand over the area, he felt an intense stabbing pain and
quickly withdrew his hand.
He examined the area with full magnification and saw a
number of extremely fine hairs sticking out of his arm. Fascinated, he gripped
one and pulled. It hurt as it came out, and it appeared to be more of a needle
than a hair since it was stiff and pointed. His arm continued to burn, so he
removed every needle he could find. His HUD flashed a warning that poison had
been detected in his blood stream, but had been effectively neutralized.
Poisoned needles that can slip through my armor. The thought
made him queasy and his knees nearly buckled. Obviously, this weapon was the
biggest threat.
He decided to risk an active scan to ensure no more snipers
were hidden in the area. The scan revealed two more surprisingly close, but
Damon dispatched them quickly with anti-personnel mini-missiles guided
unerringly to their targets by the active sensors. He only had three more of
the specialty missiles, and he made sure they were armed and ready to take out
any more snipers. Before leaving the area, he grabbed the gun used by the first
sniper and put it in his pack for Ken to examine later.
BOOK: Shedding the Demon
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