One moment Declan was standing in the Launch Bay and the next he was on the surface of Earth 6346, and all he could think of was that it was a stink hole. The air carried a burned smell, as if the denizens here had tried to fry their atmosphere. The sky was a pale yellow, dotted on sparsely with a cloud or two. Just breathing through his mouth made his tongue tingle. It was like licking a nine volt battery.
The earth here was scorched. Remnants of buildings and civilization were hinted at here and there, with only a few actual structures still standing. Most of the ground was either dust or rubble. He could tell at a glance that the soil held no nutrients and could never sustain life again. He listened and noticed that he couldn’t hear anything. There were no signs of life. No wind was blowing. Every plant that he could see was dead, and each building looked like it had been abandoned for a hundred years. He could see an ancient looking Bucky Starrs coffee shop right where it should have been. He’d forgotten that he’d set it so that he always arrived near her store, and was surprised that of all the buildings that survived that good old B.S. managed to keep standing. There was no sign of life there; at least none that he could see at a glance. Everything was as still as the grave, and he definitely felt entombed. He wondered what could have caused this, and then a thought struck him.
“Kristine, would you be able to detect if someone had tried to apocalypse this planet, and failed?” The idea swirled in his head like a fly caught in the waters of a flushing toilet bowl. It was spinning around in his head, and he couldn’t let it go. On a basic instinctual level he could feel it. Someone had come here, tried an apocalypse, and failed utterly. He had no doubt that all life on this planet would die off soon, but it was going to be a long lingering agonizingly slow death. Declan decided that he would put it out of its misery if he could. The car gave a little honk. “I’ll see what I can come up with, but I think you’re right. This place looks like an Apocalypse went wrong here. Maybe it was one of your predecessors. What do you think,” she inquired.
He walked to the coffee shop and Kristine followed him. He noticed that she wasn’t making a sound, so he guessed that she only puttered when she wanted to. “I think I’m going to go into Bucky Starrs, and then I’m gonna put the whammy on this planet and get the hell out of here. I just have to check.” He pushed open the glass door and was surprised that it wasn’t shattered and still had its logo etched into the glass. It would never fade away that was for certain. The room was covered in dingy cobwebs and had a layer of dust on the tables that looked to be an inch high. The floor was cracked and covered in dust as well, but he noticed some footprints that lead behind the counter. Someone had been in here before, but not all that recently.
“Declan,” Christine prompted, “From what I can tell by my scans you are right. This world had been targeted for destruction, but whoever had the job botched it big time. It was done half-assed. They created an incomplete apocalypse, and people survived. Of course, nothing will survive here for much longer, but they would certainly live beyond the deadline that the Invigilator has set for us. It would seem that you are cleaning up somebody else’s mess.”
“Great. That means that he wasn’t kidding about the whole do it or die thing, and that the deadlines are not negotiable. I was seriously considering having Mother ask for an extension on one or two of those time frames that he gave us.” He pulled up his HUD, “Mother, give me everything you can about this world.” Just as words began to fill his screen he heard something. It was an electric whine, something that he recognized but couldn’t put his finger on. “What is that,” he asked Kristine.
“Believe it or not, to my sensors it sounds very similar to a hover bike from our world,” She replied.
“That’s exactly what it is!” he shouted. He turned back to the door and ran outside. He hit the street and looked in both directions before seeing a figure on an early model hover bike riding in from the north end of town. The figure was nondescript and impossible to tell if it was human, let alone male or female at that distance, but whomever it was they were coming in fast and hard. By his estimation he had about ten seconds before the rider made it to his position, and they showed no indication of slowing down. He edged off the road, and backed towards the door to the coffee shop.
He watched the figure get closer, and could tell right away that it was a female. She was wearing goggles and a mask over her nose and mouth to keep the dust from suffocating her as she rode. She slowed down as soon as she saw him and pulled the bike up to rest just on the sidewalk. The woman climbed from the battered hover bike in one sleek movement. Her hair was short and chopped, she wore no top but instead had a pair of crossed bandoleers that covered her breasts, she wore what looked to be a black bikini bottom, her hands were covered by black fingerless gloves, she had a pistol holstered on each of her sides, and wore black military styled boots that came up to her knees. She was sort in stature, but was muscular, and her skin was a cocoa color that could only have been gotten from weeks of tanning under this odd sun.
Before he realized what she was doing she had moved before him. She’d grabbed his left hand and had splayed it out to examine. She scrutinized between each finger as if she were expecting to find something odd or unexpected, but hadn’t. She dropped his hand and then shoved her fingers in his mouth. She studied his teeth, running a filthy finger over each one before, she took her finger and thumb and propped open his eye. Her googles obscured his view of her orbs, but she was gazing intently into his. She let go of his eyelids, and drew her eyewear up to her forehead. He guessed that they made it hard for her to see his eyes as much as it made it hard for him to see hers. Kristine began to edge up behind the girl. Declan would have sworn he could see an angry snarl on her grill.
Her fingers forced his eye open wide again, and Declan waved Kristine away, as he could see that she was about to do something. The woman stood on her tip toes, and looked back into his eye, and when she did he knew who she was. There was no mistaking those beauties. It was Sarah. Another version of Sarah, and he had found her. OK, he admitted, she had found him, and he had been about to kill her by setting off the final apocalypse on this world, but she was here now, and that was what was important. Right?
“Sarah,” he said gently. “Sarah Crowe?”
The sound of his voice snapped her out of her entranced gaze and she stepped back, and hand going towards what looked to be a .45 Magnum at her side. She had one arm out in a warning gesture and a look of confusion filled her eyes. Her voice, when it came was as dry and dusty as the land here. She cracked and croaked when she spoke, “Mace? How? You change-ed.” Her voice was guttural and she spoke more like a child than an adult. The way that she said the word changed made her sound like a four year old, and it scared him. What had happened here? What had she called him? Did she know him?
Mace? He wondered and then he realized that Mace was short for Mason. It was Sarah, and she recognized him. “Sarah?”
She shook her head and pointed to herself, “Crowe. Imma . . . Crowe.” She said that last word like it was a revelation. Her eyes were filled with awe as she remembered the woman that she used to be. It was as if she had all but forgotten who she was. He realized that they must go by last names here, and that was why she referred to him as Mace, and herself as Crowe.
“Yes, Crowe, it’s me, Mace. I haven’t changed. It’s still me. I can help, come to me and I’ll get us out of here.” He stared at her grubby face, and could see that it had clean streaks where tears had washed away her filth. In spite of everything he could still see her innate beauty shining through everything. She pulled the rags that had been wrapped around her mouth and nose and let them hang around her neck. He had no doubt that this was Sarah now. Even as dirty and bruised as she was she took his breath away. “No, you change-ed. Not Mace, but now Mace. Mace was gone, not Mace now.” Her eyes darted from him to Kristine. Undoubtedly, the miniature car was disturbing to her and only added to her tension. She looked like she was strung tight enough that she might snap at any moment. What hurt him was her eyes. He could see the confusion in them, and it stung him deeply that she didn’t trust him instantly. His mind swam; he wondered what had made her so child-like. Was it the result of surviving an apocalypse or what had caused it in the first place? How had she survived when so many had obviously died. Would he be able to gain her trust enough that he could save her?
He broke from his reverie, his gaze wavering between her face and the gun at her side. “I swear to you, Crowe, I will not hurt you.” Kristine quietly puttered to a safe distance of an additional twenty feet away. She did not want to spook the poor girl any more than she already was, and she was certain that she could get to Declan before she could draw her weapon. Human reflexes were only so fast, after all.
Thankfully, she lowered her outstretched arm and eased her hand away from the gun at her side. She smiled at him and stepped closer. “You not dead,” she asked, “Mace not change-ed?” He held up both hands to show her he wasn’t any danger, “No. I’m not dead, and I haven’t changed. I’m still your Mace.” He hugged her in a tight embrace, “You’re safe now.”
Kristine snorted, “You had to say that, didn’t you?”
As if on cue, there arose a strange sound from the direction that Crowe had just arrived in. It was a gurgling drowning sound that was wet and trilling; like mud smothering a songbird. The echoes that it made off of the few standing buildings around them sent chills down his spine. He had never heard anything like that before, and it almost drove him mad. Something within him, however, resisted the temptation to throw away his sanity. In fact, he felt something stir within him. Something that told him that he had to stop whatever was making that sound, and the best way to do that would be to drop a planet on it. “What is that noise?” His voice was tinged with fear and curiosity.
As soon as the sound faded, Crowe spun around and ran to her hover bike. She pulled a pump action shotgun from the side of the bike, threw it to Declan, and then followed up with another toss of a box full of ammo. Crowe spun around and drew both of her pistols and then hauled ass into the undamaged Bucky Starr café. She had given him an Are you coming look as she ran inside the dilapidated coffee shop.
Declan stared at the gun in his hands. He had never fired one let alone loaded such a weapon. To be certain, he’d seen them used in countless cerebral experiences, holo-vids, and dream sequence shows, but he had never touched one until now. The only thing he knew to do was point it at what you wanted dead, and then pull the trigger. Granted, that part was not quantum particle science, but he knew that there was a little more to it than that.
“Kristine,” he said breathlessly, “How much Expy would it cost me to by a shotgun skill?”
She hovered over before him, “Basic knowledge is one thousand five hundred Expy, the more skill you desire the higher the price.”
“How much Expy do I currently have,” he asked.
“Your current Expy reserves sit at eighty five thousand points.”
“And to reach the maximum skill level for this weapon?”
“Fifty five thousand points of Expy. That expenditure will make you an expert marksman with a shot gun, you will be able to strip, clean, and repair the weapon, you will be able to speed load, as well as perform trick shots. No one will be better than you, but they might tie, so do not decide to get into a pissing contest with someone carrying a shotgun. A tie can still equal death.” She was not preaching, only informing him.
“Okay, do it. Add the skill as soon as . . .” he stopped as all the information regarding everything about shotguns flooded his mind. He lived out other expert’s memories as they trained, competed, and fought until they had become his own recollections and experiences. In a half a second he had become a master of the boom stick. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew he was receiving a notification that his Personal Sheet had been updated to include his newfound expertise. As far as he was concerned he had grown up practicing with a shotgun every day, and gone to bed to snuggle with one at night.
“C’mon,” he said to his floating companion as he ran into the shop behind Crowe. The imitation Chevy followed closely behind him, and narrowly missed getting swatted by the door as it closed. He could see Crowe was already behind the counter checking her weapons. He sat his gun on a table and placed the box of shells beside it. He looked at Kristine with a snarl forming on his face, “I don’t know what the hell that was,” he spat, “But I’m going to end this here and now. I’m not doing a last stand at the OK corral. I’m gonna light this puppy up and high tail it to the next world. I want you keep me straight. Make sure I’m not going to flub this like I did on the trial runs. Do quick simulations.”
“Got it,” the car beeped.
His head spun. So his mission was to scour all life from the surface. That meant it had to be thorough. No halfway point, he was already on his Hail Mary, and had to come up with something fast. “Kristine, could I send the earth into the sun?” The car pulsed a blue light, “You could, but not in the time limit allowed. The distance is too far, and you could not get the planet to make it there in time. Nor could you rip away the atmosphere, as there may be creatures here now that could withstand the rigors of space,” she putted, “just thought I’d slip that one in there for you.”
“Ha! Got it! You gave me the idea.” He pulled up his HUD and looked for his Apocalypse Now button. He quickly typed in his commands and then hit accept. “This world is toast in three hours.”
The floating car circled him slowly, “What did you do?”
“I changed the atmosphere. I made it so that will become an incredibly corrosive haze that it will eat or burn away anything it comes into contact with, it doesn’t matter if it is living or inorganic. It will begin to rain acid in about twenty minutes and it won’t stop until the entire surface of the world is degraded. Nothing in the land, sea, or air will survive the acidic levels I’m producing. Hell, this will probably burn away the crust and mantle of the earth too.” He looked over at Crowe, who pointed her gun toward the doorway. Declan could see a large shadow looming just outside. It was so big that it would never fit through the door, but he watched as it casually swung its arm and shattered the door and the frame like a crowbar through a sheet of paper. “Gotta go,” he said and ran to Crowe.
Kristine emitted an angry putt-putt. He should have asked her to run that by her first to see if it would work, but as always Declan just dove in without thinking. He did it all the time, most of which ended with him having a bigger problem than he started with. That was why she was glad that he had failed to complete his proposal to Sarah. She had run the numbers and just could not see in her what he did. Sarah seemed like trouble to her. Here he was, going for the flashy prettier option rather than crunching numbers or checking his options once more. She understood that he was under one hell of a time limit, but the faster you did something the more likely an error could occur when caution could have prevented it. Declan was his own worst enemy sometimes, and he was oblivious to that singular fact.
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When Declan made it to Sarah’s side she was already firing round after round at the monster in a precise center mass formation, and Declan could see that it hadn’t made any kind of an impact on the creature. He knew that because a green bar floated over the creature’s head that looked to be what he assumed was a Health Bar. To his dismay and astonishment he noted that not one round of hers had caused the bar to drop in the slightest.
Declan noticed that the monster had a rubbery but gelatinous skin which was a tone of pale green and oozed with a repulsive ponging slime. The beast was twice the size of an average man, and had a huge pot belly that connected to squat toad-like legs. Its chest and shoulders were broad and muscular, and its arms were twice the size of an Olympic body builder. It was the head, though, that unnerved him. The bizarre pate was octoid in design, with a dozen tentacles wriggling about the area of its mouth. The creature’s eyes were black and bulbous and looked like day old jelly that had shriveled in the sunlight. It had no visible ears or nose, but Declan did notice that each of its tentacles were covered in suckers that had ringed rows of teeth around their centers, and each appendage was tipped with what looked to be a scorpion-like stinger.
What really bothered him was that he could see where the bullets had struck. He could see the bullets laying just below the skins surface, like fruit in gelatin, and that they were melting from their contact with the beast. The odd thing was that, as he looked at it, he knew the Ichthian terror didn’t belong on this world; in fact, it didn’t belong in this universe nor any other he had visited. It was not of this reality and was not in a way like him. He belonged here, on this alien world in an alternate universe, more than it did. His body and mind mirrored the things in this universe. The strange creature before the two of them did not. Its very presence vexed him, and he could tell that he should have gone mad just looking at it. Its visual impression on this reality was scraping away his sanity like the claws of a drowning rat scrabbling to find purchase on a stone wall.
It was hard to quantify, but he could tell that it did not come from anywhere in the multiverse, and deep in his soul he knew that it was his job to stop it, and that the only possible things that kept him from slipping his bonds of sanity were either Mother’s mental blockades or the changes that the Invigilator had instilled in him had been what saved his human mind. He suspected that it was a combination of the two.
Again, his wandering mind had caused him to lose himself. He snapped too and Crowe was screaming; her eyes bulged and were completely unhinged. They were filled with a touch of fear, madness, and desperation. It was obvious to him that the creature’s mere presence was affecting her sanity. He had been altered by the Invigilator, though, and still it was hard enough for him to force himself to simply look at it without losing his own mind. Crowe was only human, and it was getting to her. She had emptied both weapons into the hulking mass of sludge, and it didn’t blink, not that it could; since it didn’t have any sort of eyelids he noted detachedly. She was holding her guns and staring at the creature. Declan was sure that he could hear a soft whine emitting from her after she had finished screaming. Without thinking he stepped forward and fired three rounds into the creature’s chest. The shot did nothing to decrease its Health Bar any more than her rounds had done, but the impact managed to drive it back a few steps.
Declan dropped the shotgun and ran to pick up her up. Crowe was locked in a fear frozen form and Declan snatched her statuesque form and threw her over his shoulder. He bolted for the remnants of the kitchen area and ran out of the back of the building. As soon as he was outside his eyes and skin began to sting immediately. Damn! He’d forgotten that he’d jiggerd with the atmosphere. Things were going to get sketchy really fast if he didn’t get moving. His head swiveled frantically, scanning the area. He could vaguely make out what used to be a street or alleyway, but was now little more than a faded path. Though the coffee shop was still whole there were skeletal remains of the frames and walls of other buildings that forged a semi-straight line of obstacles for about forty yards in either direction. He did not think that he’d be able to move through so much debris fast enough that the creature would not be able to get to them. “Mother,” he choked, “Open a portal to the Launch Bay. Now!”
He waited for the glowing fissure to appear, but nothing happened. “Mother?”
No answer came. He was stranded, and now he could hear that walking pile of insanity coming ripping a pathway through the building towards them. He decided that he would make a run for her hover bike. That way they could at least get way from the monster, and hopefully get Mother to respond. Christine shot out of the backdoor doing at least fifty miles an hour. Her scream was louder than her engine’s roar, “Ruuuuuuuuuuun!” She flew past him like a bullet going so fast that her voice trailed behind her like a kite’s tail.
He didn’t even think to question her command, he just turned and bolted down the alleyway. Crow was much heavier than she looked, he decided after about thirty yards of hard sprinting. It was hard enough to breathe already, but now her added weight only compounded the problem. He managed to force his way onward, and could now hear the bulbous headed creature entering the alley. The beast was too large to fit through the back door, but it was pushing its way through the bricks and door jam; its actions accompanied by a shower of stone and steel. It was slow, but it could afford to be if it was as unstoppable as it appeared to be. It could take its time and would eventually catch up to him if he remained on foot. Thankfully, he had the Hover bike to get to and make his escape.
Another thirty yards and he rounded the corner and went back to the front of the shop. “Mother!” He yelled her name over and over, and finally she responded.
“Declan?”
“Mother, I need you to create a portal back to Launch Bay. Right now!”
“My deepest apologies, Declan, but that is not possible at this time.”
“What? Why the hell not?”
“It seems that there is something near your location that is interfering with my being able to lock onto a location near you. Whatever it is it seems to be mobile. I’d suggest getting at least two hundred yards from it or I will not be able to help you.” Her voice faded in and out and was accompanied by radio static and electronic squeals. Somehow that thing’s very presence was messing with Mother’s ability to lock onto him! He was going to have run for it. Thankfully, it was pretty damned slow and he could easily outrun it if he didn’t have to carry Crowe. The combination of her weight and the air’s growing toxicity was exhausting him.
In other words, it was becoming too damned hard to breathe and Miss Crow was getting heavier by the second. She was still out of it, so hoping that she could do some running on her own was out of the question. His only hope was the hover bike. Which he could now see was crushed flat on the rear end. How had he not heard that thing crushing the bike? When had it done that? Before it had entered the café? That meant the thing wasn’t stupid. It could think ahead, it had planned to cut them off in case they escaped it inside the building.
Kristine buzzed by his head, “It’s still in the alley. That thing is really slow, but it is uber strong.” She flew over to the trashed bike. “This thing is non-operational. There is no way you’ll be able to use it to escape now. I would say to out climb it since Mother said you only needed to be two hundred yards away for her to get through the interference safely. You could climb that high, but I don’t see any buildings near here that come close to reaching that height.”
Declan, stopped and wiped his eyes. They were burning and stinging and it was not only getting harder to see, but it was also getting harder and harder to breath. The whole initiate your apocalypse on the planet thing was getting really old really fast, and this was only his second one. He had to learn how to best pull the apocalypse trigger and the proper time to do it as well. He felt it was definitely better to act like a sniper than going point blank as he tended to do things.
He could hear the slobbering mass coming for them and had no idea of what to do. He had seen it take multiple rounds from Crowe’s .45 and shrug them off like it was being hit with Skittles, and his shotgun did little more than tickle it. Declan knew that the creature could easily smash its way through any improvised defenses he could put up.
Kristine pulled up beside him, “You realize that you could get away if you left her behind, right? You are much faster without her weight, and it would stop for her. Even if it only dallied with her for a minute that would buy you the time you’d need to get away.”
He looked at the red and white car floating before him with a pained expression. “Hear me now, I will never leave Sarah, any Sarah behind if I can help it. My whole mission is to protect every version of her that I can find. Don’t you ever,” and he held his forefinger up for emphasis, “Ever suggest anything like that again.”
Kristine tilted downwards in shame. “I was only thinking of you,” she whispered meekly. Declan coughed, and he noticed that he could taste blood, “I know.”
He watched the creature round the end of the street and come at him full bore. Its skin was smoldering and he saw blobs of flesh flying free of its frame as it ran. The acidic atmosphere was affecting it far more than he could have hoped. Its once full Health Bar was already at the halfway point and it was rapidly dropping. He had no doubt that while the acid he had created hurt him it was especially horrific for the fish-like fiend that trundled towards him.
The monster did not have much time left before it dissolved into a murking puddle of gludge. Unfortunately, he and Crowe weren’t likely to survive much longer for the same reasons. “Watch her,” was all he screamed as, against all of his better judgement, he propped Crowe’s limp form by the remains of the hover bike and ran into the coffee shop.
The air was getting thicker and it clung to his skin like an airborne glue; it also burned as if someone was holding a blowtorch just far enough away that you got the heat, but not the flame. Declan could barely see through his watering eyes well enough to find what he was looking for, but he managed to locate the shotgun after a few seconds of feeling about. He stuffed the ammo box into his pocket and began feeding the chamber shells. His fingers stinging with pain still performed the actions as if he had been blind loading a shotgun all of his life. Finished, he pumped the fore-end once, flipped off the safety and stepped back outside. The air had grown thicker in the few seconds he had been in the shop. It was no longer light and misty but was a full formed miasma of poison that was thick as a London fog at midnight. He could only see Kristine because of her small headlights shining through the haze, and he moved towards her. “How is she,” he shouted.
The model sized vehicle started to say something, but he heard a loud THWACK and saw her headlights spin away into the yellow fog that encompassed them. Then his vision was consumed with the image of the hulking figure of the octopus-headed monster coming at him once again.. Its whole body quivered and shivered as if it were undergoing muscle spasms, and fluid was steadily flowing from its limbs onto the ground. He could literally hear its flesh pouring into a puddle at the thing’s feet, and noticed for the first time that its breathing was labored. It towered over poor Crowe’s prone form looking back and forth from Declan to her as if it were deciding who it would kill first. Finally, a decision having been made, it raised a massive but melting fist over the girl’s body. Without thinking, Declan charged ahead, he shoved the shotgun’s barrel into the creature’s right eye, and pulled the trigger. If he could have seen what he was doing he would have been overjoyed to observe the dried jelly orb explode from the impact of the projectiles.
The creature’s head erupted like a pus filled pimple. Part of its face, where the nose would have been, flew off into the air followed by a thick green sludge. Declan could not see this, and so he fired again and again until the molluskian skull was unrecognizable as having ever served as a head. Even after all of his shells were expended he kept racking the fore-end back and forth and pulling the trigger. Amazingly, the creature’s body remained standing. Its flesh rolling and quivering as if something struggle to erupt from just beneath its surface. Declan slammed his weapon’s butt into the headless abomination’s chest, and watched it fall backwards landing with a loud squish. He didn’t even realize that he was screaming until he heard Crowe’s voice behind him. It was weak and tired, but he heard her call his name. “Mace.”
It was less than a whisper but more than a roar in his ears, he scooped her up, coughing as he did so. He noticed that his mouth not only tasted of blood but it was now full of the irony fluid and his eyes were burning so badly that he couldn’t even consider opening them any longer. “I’m here,” he reassured the girl. He dropped his gun and gently hefted the girl into his arms. He called for Mother in his head, but she did not respond. Dammit, of all the times for her to ignore him! It was time to go! “Kristine!” His voice rang out through the empty space, but he could hear her putter up to him. “Get us back to the Launch Bay. I can’t see or breathe.”
“I’ve got you Deck,” she said, and he could not so much see as he could feel the rift open around them. A second later light and air returned to his world, he could feel a liquid solution falling from above him covering his body and neutralizing the acid that he had created for his brilliant apocalypse. He flopped onto the ground and took in huge gulps of air. After each inhalation he coughed out a mouthful of the fluid that was cleansing his body of the corrosive liquid he had been living in for the last twenty minutes or so. His eyes were finally clearing up, and he could see that Crowe was in far worse shape than he was, her skin was gone in patches all over her body, blood poured from her nostrils and mouth, and she was unconscious again. Declan realized that they had made it back alive. He could tell that Crowe was breathing, but she did so in weak and ragged inhalations that reminded him of someone having an asthma attack. “Get her to the Med Bay, right now!”
He rose up to his knees and saw just how badly his clothes had been eaten away. He was wearing rags, but oddly he wasn’t nearly as flesh burned as Crowe was. His inspection lead him to believe that he had what looked like a slight sun burn, whereas she appeared as though she had been slow roasted over a low flame.
He was home, and Crowe was alive. That was going to have to be enough for him. He would look at what he did later, right now he had to focus on the task at hand.
Two med mechs entered the Bay, one levitated Crowe with an antigrav stretcher and hurried off with her. The other stuck a diagnostic needle into his arm. It ran bloodwork, chemical levels, took his temperature, and numerous other medical details from him before withdrawing the device out of his forearm. It inserted the scanner into its torso, and assessed the damage.
The mech itself was all white, human in form, but lacking any human features. The area where its face would have been glowed orange and then shifted to blue. “Diagnostic complete. Subject Mason, D. All damaged has been reversed and countered by subject’s internal nanites. Prognosis: subject requires bed rest, fluids, and an injection of nanites to replenish those that were expended in the healing process.”
It then applied an epidermal patch to his shoulder. “This will replace your lost nanites. Give it one hour for the entire process to be completed. Until then, you may have difficulty contacting Mother or accessing Headnet.” The mech then stood, pivoted, and strode away confirming that it was done with him. So much for their vaunted bedside manner, he thought.
“Mother, can I access you verbally?”
“Indeed you may, Declan. How may I serve you?”
“Get me a new set of clothes, some bottles of water, and one of the guns that the girl I just brought in had with her. Designate her as Crowe, with an E at the end, and do everything you can to help her recovery.”
“Of course, Declan. May I remind you that your current remaining timers have less than . . .”
He interrupted her, “I know exactly how much time I have left. So, just get me what I asked for and make it quick.” Kristine dropped down from the ceiling, the right side of her hood was smashed and bits of metal jutted out from various spots. It looked like a war hammer had crushed her front fender and the adjoining areas well. “Ready to g-go,” she sputtered.
“You get yourself fixed up. You look like a refuge from a crash up derby.” She revved her engine and her lone headlight flared, “I won’t leave you alone, Declan. My job is helping you.”
He smiled, “I know, but you aren’t any good to me in this condition. Get yourself repaired, and then join me on the next world.” A service mech carried in all the items he’d asked for; setting them on a stand that grew out the ground beside him. He tore the flimsy cloths from his back and began slipping into a white dress shirt. “Go on, I’ll be fine, but I couldn’t have made it without you on that last world. I’ll save the really tough one for last, so you can be with me.”
The car did a barrel roll, “But I’m fine,” she protested. “And you are right. You would not have made it off the planet without me. Your nanite network had been diminished to a point it could not connect with Mother and keep you alive at the same time. Had I not been there. . .,” but he cut her off, “Go, I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll be very careful. Besides, I want to put on fresh pants.”