Theodore (18 page)

“You made the news today...”

“Well, of course he made the news.  More that all the
hounds should just announce when poor Theodore has had a dull day.”

Theodore looked up from his homework and grinned at the
twins.  “It's not my fault!  I was a bystander this time!”

“Seems the other students took a bit of offense to things
'appening at the U.”

“Started a bit of a campaign.  Raising money and all.”

Theodore grimaced, “They trying to buy out my scholarship
and get me booted?”  He had been afraid something like that might happen.  He
was putting them at risk by proxy...

“Nothing like that,” beamed Marcel.

“Gathering reward money for those that rat on these
people,” chimed in Maurice.

“You are kidding me?”

“Ask you to leave, after what you did saving that family
at the monorail?”

“And the people on the ground... don't forget them.”

“Oh, there are some xenophobic miscreants; that's a fact.”

“Two of them are now in student health center; also a
fact!”

“I'm used to the extreme xenophobes being big burly
idiots,” grinned Theodore.

“Ah yes, but the military science wing has their own round
of strapping lads.”

“Also helps that those lads are
trained
how to
fight.”

“It's all fun and games until these mobsters do something
really over the top,” sighed Theodore.  “If they are openly supporting me, they
may be the subject of reprisal.”

“Ah, but we 'ave a special word for wide-eyed screaming
idealists, certain they can fix the world.”

“We call them 'students.'”

“Okay,” laughed Theodore.  “Anything else, or did you two
just show up to brag on your fellow students?”

“Ulterior motives?  My brother and I?”

“Give the lad his due; he's known us for three years now.”

“Should have been obvious.”

“Very!”

The pair just stood their grinning at Theodore, which went
a long way to make him nervous.

“And?” Theodore prompted.

“Come, come, qualifiers for the traveling fencing team
were announced.”

“Big shock, you made it!”

“All the rest are at the canteen having a big to-do!”

“And they offered you two a free round if you went and
fetched me,” laughed Theodore.

“Precisely!”

“Shall we then?  Away?”

“Okay, I'm coming.  I just hope Bill and the rest like
crowds...”

“Hate them, I'm sure.”

“But that's their job!”

Theodore flashed Bill a grin as they entered the canteen. 
“Don't mind the crowds?”

Bill shrugged and smiled, “It's what we are paid for. 
Cameras are tracking everyone that enters and running their face against the
student and employee rosters.”

“I figured you'd need a mountain of paperwork to get
access to those files.”

Bill grinned, “There are eight of us that pack heat. 
There are four more guys back in operations that just chase paperwork and
things on computers.  Besides, the Secretary of the Home Office is paying close
attention.  Makes some things easier.  Sort of.  Now go get your free lemonade
and schmooze.”

“What?  No beer for me?” teased Theodore.

“You?” scoffed Bill.  “Not on a school night.”

Theodore laughed: Bill was right of course.  Theodore got
his lemonade and made his polite 'hellos', grateful that the crowd was far less
rowdy than one of the after parties.  The entire feel of the crowd was
different; previous years he was the shy but thoroughly successful fencer that
competed in the more obscure and physically aggressive forms.  Now... now he
was
one
of them.  No longer the shy outsider, he was viewed as the brave
(crazy?) one whose actions spoke not only of his skill but also of his heart. 
It was a warm and pleasant feeling, one he imagined that Anna must have felt
when the whole village, jerk and all, had stood up for her at the summer dance.

Two of the windows smashing and a pair of Taiks swinging
into the room like extras from a bad pirate movie quickly broke Theodore's
peaceful spell.  The pair's brazen entrance was almost instantly met by a
torrential rain of beer mugs and bottles, some empty and some quite full and
one of the intruders soon made an undignified exit falling backwards out the
jagged window.  Bill quickly cut loose with a volley of rifle launched tangle
grenades, not at the attacker in the window, but rather at a series of people
coming up the stairs.  The outrageous and filth laden remarks by those in the
stairwell only clarified their felonious intentions.  But that didn't mean Bill
wasn't fast enough shooting from the hip to remind the earlier player that he
hadn't been forgotten, and was unloved... A three round burst from Bill's
slightly larger, and mercifully quieter, carbine sent the first falling out the
window to go commiserate with his friend.  As Bill spun back he fluidly
produced, primed, armed and tossed a large and quite sinister looking grenade
back down the stairwell.  It detonated with a thunderous roar and briefly Bill
Burges looked nervous, his eye shooting to look all around overhead.  “'Fraid
the sprinkler system was going to go off from that one,” Bill grinned.

“The evening is young,” countered a thoroughly shell
shocked Maurice.

“Marcel has a point,” grinned Bill as he tossed two more
grenades, quaint in size compared to the first, down the stairs.

“
I'm
Marcel,
he's
Maurice,” corrected an
equally rattled Marcel.

“Whichever!” grinned Bill as he spun back again and put a
second
three round burst into the swashbuckling Taik as he tried to crawl back in
the window.  The Taik's armor failed on him as he fell back out the window. 
“Ouch, supposed to land and
then
lose the armor... 
c'est la guerre!
”

A vicious round of gunfire could be heard on the stairs as
Bill carefully shifted his focus back and forth between the two threats. 
Finally, Tim's voice could be heard from the base of the stairs, “Seven and
high and dry.  How goes the cat?”

“Our cat spilled his drink, that's all.  One of the window
crashers looked like he took a bad spill.”

“Peter has them both covered, locals are moving in.  Stay
awake!”

The occupants of the room slowly gathered their wits, and
as a testament to their character, quickly set about cleaning of the glass from
the broken windows as well as the parade of bottles and mugs.

“Breaks my heart to see so much beer spilt and gone to
waste,” pouted Marcel melodramatically.

“Best way to cure that heart is with another pint!”

“Fair enough!”

Bill just laughed, “I think those two are indestructible!”

    “We prefer the term 'hearty,'” grinned Maurice.

“I think 'beer powered' is more correct,” laughed a still
nervous Theodore.  That... that was a pretty brazen attack.  An attack that put
a lot of people at risk.  But even though it was well coordinated, it was a
testament to Bill's observational skills and training that the second threat
was subdued even before its teeth could be seen.  “You've been busy this
summer, haven't you?”  laughed Theodore feebly to Bill.

“Yeah, yeah, I have.  And no: I still do not want to try
fencing against you,” he grinned as he reloaded.

“This... This is getting insane.”

“Nah, not yet.”

Theodore had nightmares for the first time in ages.  As he
took a somber shower in the morning, visions of the firefight flashed back into
his head.  Each time they played out a different and far more gruesome
scenario.  His body language must have spoken for him as he left for his first
Tuesday morning class.

“Someone lick your fur backwards?” asked Bill as the pair
threaded their way across campus.

“Didn't sleep well.  How do you deal with it?  I mean the
threats to a crowd?  Getting attacked as we walked by ourselves is one thing,
but there in the canteen?  So many things could have gone wrong.”

“Yep, they went horribly wrong.  For the bad guys,”
grinned Bill.  His grin was poorly received so he tried again.  “Those two that
came through the windows, they weren't the type to hurt the crowd.  You could
see it in their faces.  For them it was a flash of greed.  I doubt either of
them had a background of consequence before yesterday.  Greedy punks being
stupid.”

“You 'doubt?'” scoffed Theodore.

“Okay bet:  if I'm wrong then I'll volunteer for an extra
at your dance class.  If I'm right, we bleach your fur.”

That actually forced a laugh from him, “That seems a
little one sided on the bet.  I guess I'll decline.”

“Good thing or Anna and Meagan might kick my butt!”
grinned Bill.  He paused for a good breath of fresh autumn air before
continuing, “Those coming up the stairs were the only real threat to the crowd,
and we pinned them early in place where they couldn't get at anyone.  You saw
how quick Tim and Tammy were on them.  Things were much more tidy than they probably
seemed from your end.”

“And Peter was watching everything from outside...”

“Yep, him and his two favorite friends: Mr. KDR and Mr.
30mm.”

“Is this
ever
going to end?”

Bill grinned, “Hey, it just started getting exciting!”

Theodore flashed him his best dirty look.

“Sorry.  I know you are more worried about the people
around you than yourself.  I'm sure that's what makes you so appealing to the
girls!”

That eked out a small laugh.

Bill turned and grinned, “Being serious: from what I've
heard out and about, Pat Tamilton is making great headway and there's a darn
good chance that the hit on you is going to be withdrawn.

“Withdrawn!” scoffed Theodore.

“No one wants to risk tangoing with a Highlander when
there is no one left to pay!”  Bill grinned as he continued, “Hey, that one guy
out by the gardens the other morning was a far,
far,
tougher customer
than any of those last night...”

“I'm just fearful the mafia people will do something
desperate.”

“Well, your paper is being published as we speak.  The
president of the university released your paper in the name of Dr. Barvelt’s
legacy, so if they are trying to shut that down, they just lost.”

“Are the publishers afraid of retaliation?”

Bill's turn to scoff, “They have warlords and petty
dictators threatening them...”

“Yeah, but these guys have a budget!”

“Fat lot of good it's doing them too!  Every time they try
to spend money, they get whacked.”  Bill suddenly stopped walking and Theodore
could tell he was listening intently to the com traffic in his ear bud.   Bill
did his best to expand Theodore's vocabulary, some things Emily had just not
taught him... or not known... “Let's move it!  The practice fields south of the
big stadium!  Class is canceled for you!  Move, move, move...!”

Theodore got the message and took off running as
directed.  Every time Bill was neck and neck, Theodore turned on a little more
speed: he didn't want to out run Bill but he was doing his best to make sure he
was prompt!  He was desperately curious and worried at the same time, but knew
answers would only be forthcoming once Bill felt they were safe, and Bill...
apparently he was worried!

 “Cut this way a second,” Bill blurted with heavy breath.

Theodore just nodded and followed Bill over to a campus
police call box.  Much to his surprise, Bill scrambled up on top of it and
after some manipulation came back down with a locked case.  Bill barked
something to Tim over the comms and the case sprang open.  Bill quickly pulled
out a bandolier and two halves of a rifle that he expertly fit together.  With
a nod the pair were off racing again.

“Do you know how to shoot a pulse rifle?” asked Bill.

“In principal, yes.  But I've only put all of twenty-five
rounds down range in my entire life.”

“That arrow stunt is bloody cool, but a pulse rifle is
pretty cool in its own right.  Here carry this a second,” barked Bill as he
passed Theodore the full sized rifle.  Bill quickly pulled the carbine from his
backpack and swapped its barrel out for a far larger one.  “Trade back!”

Theodore quickly swapped weapons with Bill.  He was more
than a little impressed with Bill's coordination: they had slowed a little bit
while he fiddled with the carbine, but not much!

“Safety is at the thumb, push through.  Red means kick
theirs!”

“Charging handle on top?”

“You got it.  Reflex sights come on automatically when you
squeeze the grip safety.”

“This thing going to kick the fire out of me?” asked
Theodore with some concern.  He could still vividly recall Bill being pushed
around by the weapon a day earlier.

“No.  The system takes its power cues from the barrel
installed.  It should be a normal low powered carbine now.”

“What the heck is this all about?”

Bill grinned as they jumped the low wall outside the
practice fields, “Well, it's locals not Highland Taiks if that helps your
feelings.”

Theodore's fur rippled, “Someone with their own anti-tank
guns?”

“Squad anti-armor, not
actually
anti-tank.”

“If that was a joke, it fell flat...”

Bill waved him off as he tried to listen to the earbud. 

Theodore was quickly learning there was a
lot
of
vocabulary he had missed in his formal training.  Bill was exposing him to
quite a bit, and a lot of it didn't entirely make sense.  Some of the comments
brought to mind images of things that were both technically and anatomically
impossible for someone to actually perform... humans had an odd imagination.

“Stay low behind the shrubs.  We may have been spotted...”

“By whom or what?”

The whine and crack of a gatling pulse rifle raking the
field answered the question quite emphatically.  Theodore looked on in horror
as a light repulsar gunship started rearranging their world.

Bill grinned, a feature Theodore found totally
inappropriate, as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “Seems some guys stole
one from the reserve armory...  Don't shoot it, that'll just piss them off.”

“Then why am I carrying this stupid gun?”

“Because once they get knocked to the ground, we'll need
to take care of the crew.”

There was a brilliant flash as
something
struck the
side of the stolen craft.

“Crap.  That should have done more damage than that,”
frowned Bill.  “We may need...”

Theodore had stopped listening after Bill's first
meaningless intensive.  His eyes narrowed as he focused on the gunship.  He
could see where they had been struck.  Most likely by Peter and one of his
toys.  But the combination of magnetic and spaced armor protected the craft
admirably.  Drop the coils... but they were embedded and they ducted the air
that makes up the balance of buoyancy... Nope!  Stop the guns first! 
Theodore's armor sprang to life around him as he snarled and moved for a better
angle.  Gatling guns... spinning parts! 

The gunship caught sight of Theodore and rotated to bring
both chin mounted gatling guns to bear.  Two guns, each firing at over
seventy-two hundred rounds a minute worth of 25mm terror...

Theodore growled as the first arrow struck home, lodging
itself between a pair of the barrels.  A split second later those two barrels,
with a Live Steel arrow mocking their very existence, spun around and jammed in
the gun housing.  There was a horrendous sound of steel and titanium having a
shouting match as the gun
tried
to come to an instant stop.  Rotational
inertia said otherwise and instead the barrel assembly ripped itself free of
the rest of the gun.  Sparks flew as the twisted metal started tumbling to the
ground.

There was a hole now... Theodore could
feel
the
hole and he fired a second arrow up through the wounded craft and it struck
home.  The left belly gunner wasn't going to be moving again.

To Bill's credit he was very practical as he grinned and
shouted over the noise some random expletives before finishing off with “do
that again!”

Theodore would have loved to oblige but as a second wave
of calm washed over him, a calm his father had always stressed was his friend
in combat, he suddenly felt very sick to his stomach.  The color in the world
seemed to fade for a second or two... or three...  As he fought to get the
nausea under control he was able to scramble for cover just as the gunship made
a very rough emergency landing.

Bill took up position to eviscerate anyone exiting the
craft as the door opened.  His murderous glee was cut short when the door fell
open: his pulse rifle jammed on the first round.  “Electronics just barfed! 
Murphy is kicking my butt today.  Toss me your carbine!”

Theodore looked around but couldn't find it, “Um, I
dropped it?”

The exchange was cut short as one of the occupants of the
gunship bolted with his gun a blazing.  Well, would have been blazing; the
first round jammed, just like Bill's.

Bill wasted no time bringing his grenade gun into play. 
Firing only riot rounds, it would still go far to solving the standoff.  The
round fired and landed right next to its intended victim only to bounce and
roll away.  “EMP burst or something!” he groused as he pulled a handgun and
expertly struck down his target in the open.  Two more targets later and Bill's
handgun was empty.  As he desperately loaded his spare magazine he caught
Theodore's eyes.

Theodore grinned as he invoked a Live Steel rapier and
tossed it to Bill.  “Shall we finish this?” he asked as he invoked another set
for himself.

Bill grinned and they made a plan of it.  Using Bill's
meager handgun for covering fire the pair quickly closed on the downed gunship
and made short work of those left inside.

Theodore kicked back and
tried
to relax in the
field as the locals tried to sort out everything that had happened.  A pair of
gunships under proper management had landed beside the downed craft and
everyone was busy gawking at the carnage.

“His first shot took out the gun,” began Bill to the
others.  “It ripped itself apart with its own momentum.  He then fired a second
shot up the hole it made.”

“We had a multi-megajoule EMP burst shortly after that
second shot.  Did it hit something in the powercell and short it out?  Only
thing I can think of with that much power...  The gunship's power reserves are
completely flatlined.”

“Hey, that's up to you guys to figure out,” grinned Bill. 
“All I know was my pulse rifle wiffed out and the first round got lodged in the
barrel.  Fusing on the grenades went, too.  Good old chemical-kinetic handgun
still worked fine...”

Theodore tuned them out as he tried to put what had just
happened behind him.  The field was lovely, he didn't remember it being this
pretty before.  A long rolling field of gorgeous Violet Meadow March flowers. 
Just like back home...