Novels2Search
Code Enforcement: Wetware
Chapter 27: BattleBots!

Chapter 27: BattleBots!

I'll be the first to admit, I'm not the best shot with a projectile weapon. It's not my forte; firearms aren't that popular off of Earth. I also don't have the dexterity mods or the coordination or perception hardware that some people go in for. Compared to the average marksman, I can hold my own in a pinch. But even then, I mostly preferred my taser or stun stick. If I screw up, nobody dies. I haven't even fired a plasma weapon in over three years. And I've got two shots. Well, here goes.

When the metal beam flies at my face, I drop my head and kick off the edge of the hatch. The half-ton of metal passes inches from my helmet's faceplate as it sails past. The beam impacts the wall behind me as I slide back to both feet. I pull the pistol up, but Rusteater has already halved the distance in a leap that no human body could achieve. I snap off a shot, a blazing blue-white flare causing the synth's left hand to explode. I wince from the flash, and they're on me. The second hand knocks my pistol aside and their knee strikes my belly hard enough to make me gag, but I plant a foot in their chest and kick hard enough to send Rusteater flying up and over me. Their dexterity isn't worth shit spinning in low gravity.

I recover, turning as their momentum keeps them sailing. I pull my pistol around as Rusteater hits the hatch beside the door, gripping it as they touch down. I line up the second shot as they crouch to dive. They leap again as I fire. It's a mixed blessing when the second shot goes low, striking the synth's left knee, blowing it backwards in a spray of melted polymers.

The shot puts spin into Rusteater's leap, but their inertia carries them to me. They pull their working leg up and the right hand lashes out, gripping the pistol and squeezing, making the casing splinter and warp. Oh well, I don't have a reload anyway. I slam a gloved first into their chest, wincing at the pain in my knuckles as they sail above me.

But as the leap carries them past, their leg kicks out, Rusteater's boot slamming against my faceplate and making cracks spiderweb across my vision. I back up towards the door, fists up. Not good.

Gravity pulls Rusteater down, and the moment their foot touches down, the synthethic leg drives them at me like a piston. They fly at my legs in a low fast dive, close to the floor.

I leap over them, but the working hand grips my ankle. With a shocking amount of strength, they yank me down, slamming me against the floor. I gasp, wind driven from my lungs, and the working arm yanks me towards them as I lash out with other leg, slamming my booted foot into that ruined face once, twice, three times before they twist. They contort, waist bending unnaturally backwards. Their foot slams against my lower back with a lance of white-hot pain as I screech and thrash.

We're rolling on the floor now. They're down a hand and leg, but my hits aren't doing any damage. Their hand grips my shoulder, pushing me back as the foot hits my gut, making me retch. I slip the hand, throwing a left jab and right hook that rocks Rusteater back. It doesn't slow the synth for a moment, though. Their right hand slams into my faceplate. The spiderwebs spread, and several cracks scream with a high-pitched whine.

Vapor sprays from my helmet, and half of my faceplate clouds with frost as I gasp, raising my arms to block a third strike that hits like a pneumatic hammer. I grunt as I catch the hand, shoulders aching, then cry out as the next kick hits me in the kidneys. I'm sent towards the center of the room, sprawling to the hard floor. Half-blind, I lash out with another kick that catches Rusteater in the shoulder, sending them back towards the hatch again.

Rusteater is between me and the exit. Fuck. I turn, hand to my leaking faceplate, hearing an alert in my ear. I'm losing too much air pressure. Shit; I fumble at one of the pockets of the suit for a pressure patch, as I stumble forward towards the maintenance shed. But my glove slides around the empty pocket; there's no patch on the voidsuit.

My heart is hammering, my breathing fast, as I look up. The door to the maintenance shed is partway open, and I see the helmeted head of Ashton Cartwright in the gap. But Rusteater must have bent the frame badly; the door's track is wrecked. I see him wrestling to get it open, pushing at the metal slab. He's trapped and can't get out, and I can't get in. Through the frosty plate, I see him mouth something at me, tap his helmet, and disappear back in the shed.

I turn, just as Rusteater's one-legged leap brings them barreling towards me.

Damn. Well, I line up a decent kick that would have caught their head, had their hand not caught my heel. They pull, bringing me towards them, my other foot lashing out wildly. The synth yanks me level to their face with inhuman strength and drives the heel of their hand at my helmet. I pull my crossed arms up enough that it merely drives my limbs into my head. Splinters fly from my faceplate, fog and frost spreading further. I kick, but my foot slides off Rusteater's side, then I'm hit in the side hard enough that something snaps.

I howl, pain gripping my chest like a fist. I roar defiance, lashing out with a glancing hook. Rusteater barely shivers before the synth drives their fist into my broken rib. White hot pain crackles in my core, and I vomit into my suit as I go sailing backwards towards the repair bay.

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For a moment, sailing through the thin atmosphere in low gravity, there's no pain at all. Then, there's unbelievable agony as I hit the ground, twisting and shrieking. I'm panting for air, but breathing makes a red spike throb and spark in my side. And between the freezing vomit on the inside of my helmet and the frost covering the outside, my faceplate is opaque. I'm blind. Utterly blind and running out of air. But as I lie there, I finally sense something else. Power is on the bay; there's a node in range? The maintenance shed. Cartwright just turned on the power? Generator, battery?

Wait, looks like he had locked down the computer with his CE Key, and lifted it. Fuck, who cares. I link into the local network; it's just the maintenance bay. Wait, incoming packet...

The Code Enforcement Icons and access symbols slide back into my overlay in shining silver. Hah! Perfect timing, Cartwright. There's a camera in the bay? The hanging mining mech, yes! Spiderbot for the win. I try to link in, but a denial symbol lights up in red. The private industrial drone won't allow me access. Contact corporate administrator for permission? Fuck that! I have eight minutes left in my CE key again.

It only takes a second to override, but I'm expecting every moment to be my last. Yes! I'm granted full access to the bot's code, and I immediately link to the camera. And I can see again! It's a narrow field of about forty degrees, and it's much less disorienting without meat vision.

I can see from the perspective of the hanging mech. It's active, and from the eye, I see Rusteater's damaged body limping and dragging its way towards my meatsuit. I struggle to my knees, disoriented by the third-person view as I crawl forward. I want to stand, to run, but the broken rib makes me clench and hiss, agony rolling through me as I manage a slow pace.

For once, having a camera in my brain isn't so disorienting. Maybe it's the adrenaline, or maybe being blind in meatspace makes it less distracting. Let's see, commands... Aha! It's being held in the alcove with clamps. I ping an override as I crawl, shaking. Come on...

The six-legged spiderbot falls to the floor as the clamps release, hitting with an unmistakable slam. Rusteater looks up at the two tons of metal the size of a large van, then at... oh, my body. Oh, they're hauling ass now!

My meatsuit manages a crawl towards the bot, but I'm struggling to make the bot move. Especially since I can barely figure out this mining mech's command protocols. The spiderbot isn't set up for human interface. What, you control each leg independently? And there's separate articulation of each joint? I have to manually control the hydraulics? What vacuum-sucking back-birth designed this damn mech? I try and fail to race forward, the bot stumbling and shaking as I struggle to jounce and squirm the heavy metal body over the floor.

For a moment, I hope that I can make it, but Rusteater reaches my meatsuit first. I see them rip a sharp piece of metal from their ruined arm and raise it above my body just as my meatsuit kicks them in the face, sending them skidding backwards. Hah! I can see you...

Their leg pushes them towards me again, but spiderbot stumbles forward. Flailing, with a little luck, I swat them away with a forelimb, sending Rusteater tumbling back. I raise a clumsy limb and slam it down, but they roll away. Rusteater begins to limp towards my meatsuit again, crawling beneath the spiderbot’s ’head.’ I try to back up, to catch the synth, but the limbs don't reach. Shit, they're crawling under the spiderbot, I can't turn it around in time! Fuck, they're in the camera's blind-spot, I can’t see!

The synth crawls unceasingly to my meatsuit. I lift my helmeted head; between a gap in the frost and frozen vomit, I see their determined face locked in an angry rictus. Rusteater, bite my grimy metal ass. They lift their arm to strike, hand holding a bright sliver of sharp metal, just as I ping the spiderbot, sending the mechs legs flat and straight out. The spiderbot falls, bringing the chassis' rear down on the synth's back and shoulders with a grinding sensation as I pull up my arms and catch the strike. The bot misses me by about a foot, mashing Rusteater’s lower half flat. Rusteater’s arm still strikes, and the sliver of metal impales the meat of my left forearm with an icy shock of pain, but hey, I live!

Atmosphere sprays around the puncture, and some blood. There isn't much pain anymore. That's nice. I see Rusteater's body move, so I lift spiderbot's heavy backside. kick Rusteater in the face and send them flying under the mech. I let it fall, two tons of mass crushing the synth easily, even in reduced gravity. I lift and slam spiderbots fat ass down a few more times for good measure, letting my meatsuit fall back to the floor.

I push the heavy mech's body forward, swinging the camera around. There's a sparking mangled wreck and tangle of polymer where Rusteater was, a streak of crushed metal and oil. The remains are still, leaking some blue-white and dark black fluids. Hah.

The bug squished them like a bug. Hehe. I killed them twice; do they qualify for frequent dying miles? Hahaha. Does worker's comp cover a new chassis? Bwahahahaha!

Strange. I'm funny, but not that funny. Oh shit, I'm giddy; I'm going hypoxic! I'm out of air. I turn the camera, seeing Cartwright frantically waving an arm through the gap in the shed. The door...

I work the bot, crawling forward. Crap, this is hard to coordinate. It's not like arms and legs, it's like controlling fingers, but they are all prehensile. I slam my pinky-thumb arm against the door. Shit, no, too thick. I have to open it. I try to hook the edge and see metal peeling off a track. Fuck, I can't see... it's like looking down a tunnel. Hahaha. Tunnel vision!

There's a blaring alarm in my ear. It's getting quieter. That's not good. My breathing is shallower. I slam a fat spiderlimb against the door a few more times, and something snaps. The track lashes against the front of mech and the camera goes dark.

Fuck. I broke it. Too bad. Hah. Hope I helped. Hehe. Rusteater ate spiderbot's rusty rear. Heh. Could make a few dirty jokes from that. Ha.

Pretty sleepy... Just gonna nap... handle the rest... in the morning...

I hope there's coffee waiting for me.