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HARI-9
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HARI-9’s overlay switched to ‘Predator’ as the two humans left, all traces of ‘Mara Edgerton’ leaving her primary processing core when she activated it. Leaving out of an upstairs window in the slaver’s bedroom, she easily climbed onto the roof and surveyed the area. Switching between the multiple vision modes, she saw a low-slung city of several thousand residents.
Briefly switching to her ‘Analysis’ overlay, she began studying the situation. The tallest buildings were only three-story and made of rough-sawn lumber and a few had stone for their first floors. That implied either an industrial base of some kind or trade with a group that had that kind of base. Pillaging alone would not provide what was needed from fringe settlements, and a strike against the core areas of any group with that kind of industrial base would have likely have triggered a severe response.
This would require further study.
Switching back to ‘Predator’, she took a running jump to the next roof and landed softly. Lowering herself with one arm, she peered through the wall with her thermal active and saw a shape spread-eagled on the bed as a larger shape began to engage. Shattering the window hasp as she levered it up with her free hand, she swung in past the curtains and saw a naked girl tied down to a bed and a large man, also naked, turning in surprise as she entered. He didn’t even have time to shout as she punched him in the throat, crushing his larynx. A hard elbow to the abdomen, as she quickly ducked a flailing swing at her head, drove what air he had in his lungs past the new partial blockage of his airway, and he rapidly began to suffocate. She scooped him off the floor so he couldn’t drum his feet to alert any other residents that might be there and held him until he died.
Laying him down, she turned her attention back to the bed and the whimpering girl. There were bruises over much of her body and a ragged gash on her forehead that had been roughly stitched. She switched back to ‘Mara’, ‘Predator’ would not be useful here.
Pulling out her knife, she cut the bonds, then found a cup and a pitcher of water on the nightstand, “Hey, can you sit up?”
The girl nodded, and HARI-9 gave her the cup, “It’s okay. He‘s out of the picture.”
There was a pause, and the girl looked at her, “Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
The girl climbed off the bed and spat on the corpse, then she looked at HARI-9, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” HARI-9 replied. Looking around, she found a dress lying on the floor next to some underclothes and some shoes. “Can you get dressed?”
“Yes…Who are you?”
“Mara,” HARI-9 replied. “Are there any others like you here?”
“Downstairs, in the pens.”
“Any guards?”
The girl nodded, “I’ve seen three. Josiah, Mark, and Hank. Hank’s the worst; could you hurt him a lot?”
“I’ll try…what’s your name?”
“Miranda.”
“Okay, Miranda. You stay up here, and I’ll take care of the guards.”
Miranda nodded and drank the water as HARI-9 went to the door, switching to ‘Predator’ as she walked. The door was locked on the inside, and she slipped the bolt back before easing it open. There was a hall with another door, this one half-open, and snoring came from inside. Slipping in, she was on top of the sleeping man before he could react with her hand over his mouth.
He struggled futilely against her strength and then stopped when he realized he was not getting anywhere.
“You yell, you die,” she said in the cold tones of the ‘Predator’ while holding the knife in her free hand. “Do you understand?”
The pinned man nodded, so she lifted her hand slightly while placing the knife point just above his eye.
“What do you want?” he asked in a whisper.
“Your name.”
“Mark.”
“Where are Hank and Josiah?”
“Josiah has the door. Hank’s with the merchandise.”
“How do I get to the merchandise? If you lie, I will kill you.”
“Down the stairs, to the right. The big door.”
“Is it locked?”
“Yes. Key is on my belt…”
“Thank you,” she said as she dropped the knife and quickly and quietly choked him unconscious before gagging him and securing him to the bed.
Picking up the key, she headed to the stairs and, staying close to the wall so the treaders wouldn’t creak, descended to the ground floor. There were two doors here. One toward the street and the front of the building, the other a large door to the right with a keyhole with light flickering through it. Turning right, she peered through the keyhole and saw a large room with what looked like animal pens on the sides and a man seated on a chair on the far side who looked asleep.
Inserting the key, she turned it as slowly and as quietly as she could; her strength was helpful here with the stiff levers inside the mechanism, and the careful turning reduced the grinding noise.
Next, she cautiously began pushing the door open and froze when a bell suspended above it rang.
The man on the chair opened his eyes and was staring right at her as she exploded into motion while he was standing and drawing a large cudgel from his belt.
By his great fortune, she hit a slick patch on the floor, and her swinging round kick missed the guard by a hair and struck the wall with a deep thud. He took the opportunity while she was off-balance to bring his club down on top of her shoulder, a move that he knew would cause extreme pain, but to his great surprise, she simply turned her head and stared at him, her foot still pressed against the wall.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
HARI-9 shook her head slowly, then reached up and grabbed his wrist, “I presume your name is…Hank?”
The guard, Hank, slowly nodded as it felt like his wrist was in the jaws of a vise. Then there was a sudden snap, and he howled as she let go of the now broken bones. Lowering her foot to the floor, HARI-9 turned, and high snap kicked Hank in the jaw. The bones there shattered, as well, as his feet left the floor when the force of the strike lifted him a meter off the ground.
“Miranda asked me to do this,” she said before she stomped his other wrist, breaking the bones there as well before heel striking and cracking his sternum, sending fractured ribs through his lungs.
The thud and scream had brought Josiah from the front, but HARI-9 had heard him coming and was on top of him as soon as he came through the door. She didn’t kill him, just bludgeoned him unconscious and then slipped back to the ‘Mara’ overlay. There were twenty people in the two large pens, and they were staring at her in shock.
“Who wants to get out of here?”
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Feder’s shop was too crowded after she had managed to free all of the ten slaver’s inventory, releasing over a hundred captives. She had begun informing them that they should stay in place until she got word to them. She was about to head toward the palace when one man mentioned, “What about the field slaves?”
Now, HARI-9 was outside the barracks where the city’s communal slaves were kept. There were about two hundred of them, and they were assigned to various members of the Dark Warriors or town use as required. With so many in one place, there were heavy chains on the outside doors and a few guards walking patrol around the perimeter.
The guards were the simple part. She quickly and quietly removed them one at a time, hauling the bodies behind any cover she could find. The chains were the bigger deal. If ‘Predator’ could sigh, it would, as HARI-9 grasped both sides of one of the wrought iron padlock hasps and pulled. The flat motors built into all the major joints of her arms geared down, and there was a groan as the thick metal began to warp and bend under the strain. She readjusted her grip and continued to pull the hasp apart before it shattered the locking lug in the lock itself with a sound like a quiet gunshot.
Dropping the lock, she leaped up and, grabbing the edge of the building, chinned herself up to the roof, where she watched and waited to see what kind of response that noise would bring.
She waited for a few minutes before climbing down, entering the building, and freeing the slaves from their cages. Switching back to ‘Marra’, she made the call, “Bonchance, start up the diversion as soon as you can. Wallace, Cal…start moving in.”
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BONCHANCE
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Clea and I walked through the streets like we owned the place. Well, she did…I just tried to act like I did, and most of the passersby were too busy looking at her to really bother with me. She was as tall as I was and, after washing up in the small kitchen area of Feder’s establishment, very beautiful with white-blonde hair and moved with an attitude of unquestioned authority.
“So Lord Bonchance…”
“The word ‘Lord’ isn’t necessary.”
She smiled, “Can I just call you ‘Chance’ then?”
I shrugged, “If you want to.”
“Your..friend…”
“And nothing more…” I said quickly, recalling Cal’s query. “How do these rumors get started?” I sighed.
“Really? Well, Lady Mara seems to be more than competent.”
“She is; I still have no idea why she thinks she needs the help of a poor mechanician like me.”
“You’re not a soldier?” she seemed surprised. “Your awareness, your stance…they all seem to go with a skilled combatant. I thought you both were veterans of the Imperial Army.”
“You know of the True Empire?”
“We do…we also know enough to want to stay as far away from it as possible.”
Nodding, I couldn’t disagree.
“So if you are not, and she is not…this Duchy of Ceedo is a new realm?”
“Very. She founded it and seems to have dragged me along with her. If it makes you feel more at ease, the Duchess has the same opinion of the Empire as you do.”
“And yours?”
“Well, you can clearly see I am here in the frontier risking my life, and not there in the cities…What do you think?”
She smiled, “Point taken. So poor mechanician, do you know how to fight?”
“Sadly, I have had to learn.”
“And are you any good at it?”
“I am still alive.”
“An excellent suite of references.”
We were approaching the tavern with the ‘Riley’s’ sign and stepped over a drunk lying on the stoop. As we walked inside, there was a pause as the patrons looked at Clea. Looking quickly around, I spotted who I was searching for and called out, “Leo! I owe you a drink or two!”
The now off-duty overseer turned to spot me and smiled, “Carson! So, it went well with Feder?”
“Well enough, I pulled out my money bag and headed to the bar rail, “Two drinks for my friend and you know? A round for the whole bar! I got lucky!”
Clea whispered, “Clever…most of the patrons appear to be city guards and the like.”
“If they’re drunk, they are more than likely than not as effective in a fight…”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Master Feder was very generous,” I patted the money bag. “I’m sure he can afford to spend big.”
Soon, we were standing next to Leo, and Clea was making up lies far better than I could. I was merely standing up round after round. Feder had plenty of gold in his strongbox and that much gold could purchase a great deal of beer; it was clear that the barkeepers in their slave collars, closely watched by an overseer, were very happy with the business.
I sipped my first one and watched the doors. Members of the on-duty city watch were coming in, probably to see a friend or two, and naturally, I had to buy them a round to be fair and impartial.
It didn’t take long before it was a full-blown party…and then, “Bonchance, start up the diversion as soon as you can. Wallace, Cal…start moving in.” whispered into my ear.
I looked at Clea, “It’s time…Now, how do we start this diversion?”
She slammed back the rest of her beer and grinned at me, “That’s the easy part,” she replied as she smashed her mug into the back of Leo’s head and then shoved his dazed body into a pair of men arm-wrestling.
That really was all it took. They took offense and responded, which drew attention as Clea tripped someone else, and now they were in the rapidly building brawl. Someone swung at me with a long blade, but I caught its grip in my right hand and squeezed down on his fingers, pinning them between my synthetic hand and the leather-wrapped metal and freezing him in sudden pain while I smashed him in the face with my own mug. Clea had dived over the bar, and I followed suit, staying low near the bartenders.
“Shouldn’t you call the guard?”
“They’re mostly here,” the bartender moaned.
Crouching, we made it to the back door and freedom just as shots began to be fired.
“Now what?”
“Wait a moment…Duchess, it’s started.”
“Good. I’m heading to the palace; make your way to the front gate and make sure the guards are handled so Cal and Wallace’s teams can get to their positions.”
“Understood.” I turned to face Clea, “Now, the front gate to remove the guards so some of the Duchess’s troops can get access.”
“Troops?”
“You think we would perform this madness on our own, with no support,” I said, giving her a raised eyebrow.
She laughed, “Point taken.”
We started jogging for the gate, the sounds of the brawl building to riot levels behind us. There were shouts, and whistles were being blown, but it seemed that a lot of the residents were none too fond of the Dark Warriors and were adding to the fray and making their displeasure felt. Clea looked at me, “I have to say, for someone who is emphatic about not being a fighter? You did stop that knife remarkably professionally.”
“It was not planned.”
“Of course, it wasn’t.”
It wasn’t far to the gate, and we saw guardsmen rushing past us to the sounds of the battle at Riley’s. As we approached the two remaining guards with their snaplocks, I drew and fired twice. They went down almost silently.
“Not a professional…and what is that pistol?”
“Absolutely not a professional, and ask the Duchess. Help me with this drop bar.”
She shrugged, and the two of us used the chain hoist to lift it out of its socket and swing it to one side. The gates immediately began to swing inward as the outside guards pushed in. I shot them, too.
“Cal and Wallace, the gate is open.”
“Who are you speaking to?” Clea asked.
“The Duchess’s troops, of course,” I replied in the most matter-of-fact tone I could muster.
“We are on the way, milord,” Wallace replied.
Then I realized that Clea was staring at my pistol, “That’s Old World…”