It honestly felt like an eternity. I gripped the railing, my knuckles white, screaming as we plummeted blindly into the bunker’s depths. The sensation of descending was both exhilarating and terrifying, the sort of feeling that I’d pay good creds to experience if I were surer of a safe ending. The lift jolted for reasons unknown and began to clang side to side off the shaft itself, each loud bang making me wince. I closed my eyes when the lights went out, for all the good it did me.
“First time on a lift, hey?” Techlock asked, a hint of terrified amusement in his voice as he barely managed to stay on his feet.
“Yeah,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s not exactly what I expected.”
“Welcome to the wonders of old tech. Just hold on; I think we’re about at the bottom and I’ve got a good feeling about the landing.”
A sudden whooshing noise resounded from all around the lift, and we were momentarily weightless as everything slowed dramatically. I was flung up just enough to momentarily fly before falling heavily to the floor, the wind knocking out of me hard in a way that burped on the rubber seals of my salvaged protective hood.
All motion stopped, but I was dead out of oxygen, and the filters of the hood were choking me, limiting the air supply that I needed to fill me up again. I tore off the hood and gasped loudly, laying on my back and staring up into the blackness.
“Glad that’s over,” I muttered, doing my best to take in one breath of air at a time.
“Not over yet. Let’s just hope there’s a way to get these doors open,” Techlock replied through painful groans.
A grinding, spitting noise sounded from the elevator door, and after a moment, part of its steel turned bright glowing orange. Using the dim shade of it as a guide, Tech found his torchlight and snapped it back on.
“Shit, lad, I thought we were gone for sure,” he chuckled after a short moment. “Was quite a ride, huh?”
I just stared at him.
“Tech, you can ride this kind of crap any time you want, just leave me out of it, okay? What would Elli do if I died in a shit place like this?”
“That girl of yours? Hah! She’d be so dumb to wait for your return. Hot, with freedom and land. Can’t think of anyone less worth her time than you. Except maybe barbars.”
He looked away, shining the light around the elevator. The walls of the lift had contorted, looking like a half-crushed soup can from some strong man festival competition, dented in on all sides and from weird angles. But overall, it still looked durable enough that I marveled at the strength of its design.
I didn’t look for too long, though, backing up to where Techlock stood and eyeing the glowing spot in the door. It began to drip liquid metal and then, all at once, flaming sparks cut through the edges of the heated patch, going through and around it.
I watched with a mix of fascination and apprehension as a small, tracked automaton emerged from the freshly cut hole in the elevator door. The cut metal still glowed faintly around the edges, casting an eerie orange aura over the thing as it rolled to regard us from the center of the elevator.
It was about the size of a large shoebox, a sleek, metallic gray body with a chipped matte finish that absorbed rather than reflected light. Mounted on two continuous tracks, each studded with small, rugged treads, it looked well-prepared to take on some pretty hard terrain.
Atop its chassis, a small but powerful cutting torch was still cooling down, wisps of smoke rising lazily into the air. The torch was mounted on a flexible, articulated arm that was now slowly folding back into its body. Beside the torch, a pair of multi-functional manipulator arms equipped with various tools—welding tips, gripping claws, and strange dialed scanners and probes—were neatly tucked in, apparently ready to spring into action at any time.
The head was a glass orb filled with lightning, a line of green light cast forth from the blindingly bright nexus of its center to roll out over the two of us while we stood staring from the far end of the lift. A small speaker grill occasionally emitted soft beeps and chirps, while it finished rolling its lights over us.
“Disaster averted. G-g-g. Have a good day, soldiers. Hoorah! The o-o-only good alien is a dead alien.”
It spun in a circle, turning to face the hole it had made. The same light that it had cast at us before now came out to roll over the hole it created. It beeped loudly on completion.
“Sabotage d-d-d-d-detected! Wireless networking offline. Proceeding to manual reporting mode!”
A short and quick song rang out over its speakers, something I’d heard played during monster battles at the wall before the Cataphracts charged in line, and I realized it might well be a military command. The little robot rolled off, speeding through the hole and out of sight.
Techlock and I looked at each other and sighed.
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“It’s obviously broken if it can’t remember that it just made that hole. Think it’s gonna go report to other robots, who are going to think we are saboteurs that need to be eliminated?” I asked.
Techlock nodded.
“Yes. That’s absolutely what I think is going to happen.” He knelt and examined the hole. “I can fit through, just barely. But I doubt you can. Got any ideas?”
“Yeah.”
I joined him and checked to make sure the sides of the hole were no longer hot, then used my newly gained massive strength to push one door open, and then the other. We strode out of the lift, and back into the familiar sight of the storage doors.
“Second time's the charm,” Techlock said as he strode forward, heading back to Storage 2.
I saw that the door had been closed, and I shot an alarmed glance at Techlock.
“I did it. Just a habit I guess. Still, keep a lookout. Let’s stick to the plan, find this mutagen, and get out of here.”
We approached the door to Storage 2 cautiously, our senses on high alert for any sign of danger. The memory of the last encounter with the mutants loomed large in my mind, and now I had the extra stress of possible robotic automatons coming for us as well.
With a nod from Techlock, I gripped the door handle and yanked it open. It wasn’t nearly as difficult this time, our previous entry having made it that much easier to get inside. The familiar rush of stale, fetid air greeted us, carrying the same pungent smell that had assaulted us the first time. We stepped inside, the beam of Techlock’s torchlight cutting through the darkness, illuminating the rows of sagging shelves.
“Stay close,” Techlock whispered, his voice barely audible over the echoing drips and creaks of the bunker.
We moved deeper into the room, our footsteps splashing in the shallow water that covered the floor. The crates and supplies, now more familiar, held a sense of foreboding. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched despite already having been inside once.
“There,” Techlock said, pointing to the leaking container marked ‘Mutagen X02’. The bullet hole was still dribbling its contents lazily, the greenish-brown liquid pooling at its base. We hurried over, splashing through the swamp.
“I’ll find something to patch it up,” Techlock said, turning to search the nearby shelves. “You start filling the ziplos.”
I nodded and knelt beside the leaking container, carefully pulling out the first ziplo. I positioned it under the drip, watching as the liquid slowly filled the transparent plastic. Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly things had changed. Only hours ago, I’d been a regular scavenger, and now I was much stronger and collecting a substance that could alter the course of my life forever.
And hiding an alien AI with the same properties at home as well.
Techlock returned with a roll of tape and stored it in the pack as the trickle ran itself dry. I’d gotten a ziplo and a half filled, which was going to have to be enough.
He shook his head disappointedly.
“Still a lot of money there. I really would have liked to get more.”
“It’ll do,” I muttered, already wondering if CD couldn’t sample this and figure out a way to make more.
“It better,” Techlock replied, tugging at his hood. “I really did think this would be an easy run.”
“Same, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve got enough mutagen here to make a small fortune, Tech. Now we just need to get it out of here.”
We secured the ziplo containers in our packs, cushioning them with blankets to prevent any damage. Then Techlock reexamined my straps, making sure everything was tight and secure before we headed back.
“Let’s head back,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “We need to get back to the surface and find a safe place to stash this before anyone—or anything—finds us.”
“I’d prefer the former. People are easier to deal with,” I muttered, remembering how hard the mutants hit and how much damage they could take.
We retraced our steps through the storage room, jumping at every creak and groan. As we neared the exit, a loud clang echoed down the corridor, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Techlock and I froze, our eyes meeting in a shared moment of fear and determination.
“Run!” Techlock hissed, and we bolted down the hallway. The footsteps grew louder and closer. I glanced back to see a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness.
We burst through the entry room, my heart pounding in my chest. We both stopped and stared at the broken elevator.
“Stairs!” Techlock shouted, pointing to the wreckage-strewn stairway we’d taken our first time through. We sprinted towards it, our breaths ragged and our muscles straining.
We climbed the stairs two at a time, the sounds of pursuit echoing behind us. I hadn’t even caught a good look at them, but the metallic heavy clang that shook through the steps warned me that it was almost certainly a security automaton. We ran and ran, the sound of our pursuers getting fainter until, finally, we reached the top and burst out the door into the first floor. For a moment, I was blinded by the greater level of light, but that quickly disappeared as my eyes focused on a mob of growling mutants.
I made a split-second decision, pulling my new blade free and swinging it sideways, catching one of the mutants in the side of its skull. It fell to the floor, twitching and hissing.
“Follow!” I yelled. “Keep moving!”
I slashed without thinking, the strength of my slice tearing open the neck of another one, which sent it falling backward. My sudden attack confused the other creatures, and they just stared at us for a long moment.
Techlock rushed after me, swinging his torchlight with one hand and a dagger with the other as we ran through them, trying to get back to the main corridor. I heard snarls and hissing, but we kept on going until, finally, we were back in the lobby. Techlock knelt next to the control panel.
“Give me a minute,” he hissed, but I knew we’d probably be dead by then.
He worked the controls furiously as I stepped toward the incoming crowd. The corridor was narrow, so it could only let a few of them in at a time. Every swing killed or badly wounded another mutant.
A beeping sound, followed by one of escaping air, resounded behind me.
“Come at me!” I growled, slamming my fist into the nose of another mutant, and they stepped away for a moment. Their murky eyes were all focused on mine, as if studying me.
“Get in here!” Tech cried, and I could hear his feet shuffling away from me. Without so much as giving the mutants another look, I turned about and ran. They followed after me but were too slow to catch up. The moment I stepped through the doorway, Tech pressed a button on the other side, and it slammed shut behind us.
“Shit! That was close,” I said, and my words turned into a half-chuckle. “Damn. You alright, old man?”
“Bah! Who’s old?” Tech mumbled and slumped to the floor. “Just give me a minute and then we head back. You can spend the night at my shop and I’ll rig you a new serf bracer for when you head back into the city in the morning. We’re not going to spend another second here.”