…That’s why I rank the Model Twelve at number two on the most scary antithesis out there.
Now, on the top of the list is the true terror, the one that will give you nightmares, hands down, no question, guaranteed. I present to you the Model Seven. It may be the tiniest of the models, weighing in at mere three hundred grams (that’s ten and a half ounces to you dirty legacy freedom users), the seven is tiny, but its feelers can extend over a meter, and with it being so light, you won’t even know it’s on you. What's worse is that it won’t eat you. No, no. This mutherF’kr will drill into your mind and take over your body. That’s right, it is going to turn you into a freaking zombie.
And what it does with your not unalive remains is one of several things. The simplest is that it will walk you back to the hive, where you’ll become plant food. There have also been cases of the seven creating attack swarms of zombies, and if that wasn’t enough, there are rumors of some sevens infiltrating towns and cities, only to break out into zombie hordes days after the incursion is cleared out. That’s right, your neighbor could be an incubator for more sevens right now. There are even rumors that those poor suckers who get mind fucked haven’t been made unalive yet.
There’s reports all over the mesh of people that have seen expressions on the zombies as they turn on you. I’m not kidding, like real horror on the faces, as the seven turns your loved one into a murder machine and comes after you. Now, that’s just rude. The least they could do is have the courtesy to fully unalive you before doing that shit.
Because of that, there’s movements to capture the zombies in the hope that they can get their loved ones back, but I’m telling you now, if my loved ones get a seven in them, I’m gonna unalive them as fast as possible. There’s no coming back from that, and I don’t want my girl’s last days to be filled with the horror of whatever the seven’s gonna make her do.
And that’s why I’m putting the Model Seven at number one of the most scary antithesis out there.
--Dealpas, Mesh-tuber and Samurai
***
As if the shots had summoned them, the Anti’s swarmed in, as fast as before. Their numbers were starting to tell, and we were barely keeping up. This time they hit the bottom barricade faster, and it took longer to clear out the beasts milling around the room below us. I even had to lean out over the console to get at the last couple, who had scrambled on top of one of the machines and were trying to reach us from there.
In the silence after the battle, I frowned as something tickled at my memory. Turning to Kaitlyn, I asked, “Did you say you were taken?”
Ginny was the first to answer. “Kaitlyn and I were on campus, on our way to an event, when some goon squad rolled up in a van and tasered us. They had us in an e-cage before we could scream, then they hit us with a knockout drug, and we woke up in some cells.”
Kaitlyn took up the story. “It took us a while to find out that some kook cult’s been storing up people for one of those crazy rituals. We found Tara hiding in a back corner. She’d been there for how long?”
“Long, too long.” Tara was still filling mags without looking. She gazed into an empty space, far away from here. “Been fattening us up. Making us ready. I found a corner. Kept it hidden. Kept it quiet. Dig, dig, push and push, lever through the wall, to the next, and the next. Small hole, easy to hide.”
“She’d been working on a breakout.” Ginny brought them back on topic. “Less tunnel and more a hole into another section of the building. We helped her finish it, and left. The leader was starting to get real excited, claiming the blessed were coming and that the sacrifice needed to be ready for them.”
“I definitely need those drones. We need to know where the Anti’s are, and I’d like to look at the cultists. Does anyone know how to control a drone?”
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Tara raised her hand. “I think I can. I have double augs for a full dive. I’m pretty good with the controls for computer games. There’s an eighty-four percent similarity between them. Probably as a recruiting method for the military.” My sister was a pilot for the Air Force who spent half her “air” time on remote drones. She had stated many times that the controls for a drone were both very similar to those for some of my shooter games but also very different.
“Good. Corie, can Tara control my drones, or do they have to be linked to me?”
“She will have to interface through your tablet. I can also monitor and guide her if needed. If she’s going to be running your drones for the long term, we can get her some cyber gear to assist. Once the SymTech Gland is active, I could drive the drones myself in an emergency.”
“Do it. Even if all we can do is see through the doorway, that would be worth it.”
Another of the Samurai boxes fell to the ground. I flipped it open to find a small drone, not much larger than my hand with the fingers flat. It had four small legs tucked up beside the body, and I could see what looked to be short, extendable delta wings on the sides. One end had a gimbaled camera, and the other had a set of tiny props. If anything, it looked like a miniature bat and Chihuahua hybrid, all done up in plastic.
I handed my tablet to Tara, where an app popped up showing the view from the drone. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, she threw the drone like a paper airplane.
“This is easy.” Tara settled back against the wall, her eyes not seeing the tablet before her.
A video window opened in the lower right of my glasses, showing the room zipping about, mimicking the aerobatics of the drone as it flitted about the room. I ignored the feed, finding the unexpected twists and loops slightly nauseating. “First, let’s check through the door they are coming through and see what’s back there.”
The drone soon zipped out of the room, diving down and through the door where the Anti’s came from. We waited a few minutes more before Tara reported in. “There’s a turn, then another turn, and the corridor straightens out. Doors on each side.” Her voice had an added breathiness that was not normally present. “There’s some hounds, followed by a couple squigglies. And a new one, big with stiff hair, not nice hair like a mohawk, rattles. Two of them. Should be here soon.”
I checked the camera view, which was now sitting steady and looking down on a corridor filled with several aliens. To the back stood two large, four-legged antithesis that I had never seen before. They had the long, thick, spiky hair of a Model Five but were much smaller. As they passed under the drone, the view panned, and I could see a long tail covered in quills, each nearly as long as my forearm. “What are those?” I asked.
“Model Five variants, type C. Smaller and more dense, you find them in more confined spaces, like in this building. Due to their density, they are nearly as sturdy as the regular ones. They can’t throw as many quills from their backs, and what they do does not hit as hard. But they make up for that both in melee with that tail and by launching the tail spikes farther and harder.”
“Kaitlyn and Ginny, we have a pair of Model Fives coming. In case you don’t know, those are the ones with range. Get over beside the barrier, and I’ll stand farthest out. Tara, you’ll want to be back in the corner. Slide along the wall to your left to get there.” I assumed that her vision was restricted to the drone’s camera while connected. “When they start to shoot at us, duck back into safety. I’ll try to get them before that, though. Tara, did you count them?”
“Fifteen hounds, five squigglies, and two thags.” Tara was scooting into the corner as she spoke.
“Thags?”
She looked at me. "Thagomizers,” she said with a dead serious look, as if that explained everything. I had no idea what those were, but I assumed she was calling the M-5c’s "thags.”
I looked at the room below us. We had killed over a hundred antithesis by now, and the bodies were starting to stack up. The smell, once mild and pleasant, had turned sour, like my trashcan if I’d left it unemptied for too long. Soon, we would need to do something to dispose of the bodies before they could use piles of bodies to reach our level. A good portion of the bodies were the tentacled M-4s. “Speaking of which, Corie, we need some gas masks. Something comfortable and non-disposable.”
“Masks? Why?” asked Kaitlyn.
“The M-4 emits a gas that is mildly harmful. I wasn’t too worried at first with the size of the room, but we’re getting enough of their bodies down there that it could become a problem.”
“From your Class I Medical Utilities catalog, there are the disposable masks, which come in a box of 5 for one point. Or you can get something longer lasting for 5 points each.”
“The 5 pointers, please. There is no reason to add to the trash heaps if we don’t have to.”
"Purchased: n210 BioHazard Mask
Cost: 20 (Qty: 4) Remaining points: 1,021”