Horizon looked over her shoulder anxiously as she attached the portable hydrogen tank to the pump. Her paychip should still have had enough sacs on it to pay for the fuel, this was technically completely legal, but she still couldn’t take the chance that anyone might recognize her under her holograms. The safety collar locked over the nozzle after she inserted the paychip and Horizon groaned as she watched the numbers rise on the readout.
Just to keep herself busy Horizon turned to glance around the fuel depot again. There were a couple more ground vehicles besides her van, one at the electrical charging station and another fueling up on ethane. Pure hydrogen fuel was typically reserved for aerospacecraft, or those who didn’t want to be seen on IR sensors. She made sure the attendant was still focused on her tablet, then allowed her focus to drift. Sam, she thought. How much longer can we stretch out our funds?
“Considering we haven’t had any new income in the past two months,” the AI answered. “And our food and energy consumption… I would estimate a month. Maybe six weeks if we stretch our reserves out.”
The raccoon grumbled. The Friendlies had been very generous in allowing her and Shawn to keep the cash they’d withdrawn for that ill-fated black market transaction, but living “off the grid” was proving expensive on Surtur. How could we extend our reserves? She asked.
“For starters we could ditch the nerd,” Sam suggested.
Out of the question, Horizon snarled silently.
“Are you sure,” Sam’s avatar appeared in the middle of her field of view. “Has he been any help since you set out on your own? His implants haven’t even developed very far in all these months.”
Horizon slammed a fist into the side of the pump. We are not letting them get any more of our people, visions of Jenny being carried off by a power armored goon played in front of her eyes. No more.
“Fine then,” the illusion of a red panda shrugged. “I guess we’ll just steal stuff.”
I can live with that, the raccoon replied. So long as it’s from the Company or someone else who deserves it.
“That’s doable then,” Sam turned around to look behind her. “You might as well start here.”
The AI blinked out of view and Horizon saw the attendant’s booth behind her. Said attendant had dropped his tablet and picked up a stun rod while Sam had been blocking her view. Horizon glanced back at the pump and noticed the dent her fist had made in the side.
“Damnit,” she sighed out loud. “I was hoping I could get through the month without getting into any fights.”
The attendant, a large and shaggy donkey of some sort, swung open the door to his booth and advanced towards her. “Who the Hel are you?” he shouted. “And why are you wearing that hologram?”
Horizon sized him up, she should be able to knock him out quickly, faster if she wasn’t careful about leaving him alive. Though the apparent fact that he’d somehow seen through her hologram disturbed her. He started to raise his bludgeon and Horizon leapt forward. She bent his arm at the elbow, slamming the stun rod into his own forehead. The equine convulsed for a few moments, then collapsed.
What the Hel just happened? Horizon demanded. How did he know that I was wearing a hologram?
“Sorry about that,” Sam answered, sounding a bit sheepish. “Your suit glitched for a moment when you backhanded that pump.”
Well this is just great, the raccoon picked up the stun rod, prying it out of the unconscious attendant’s hands. As she stood back up she spotted the other vehicles at the depot racing off. Might as well start my life of crime now, she thought with a sigh.
Horizon dashed over to the vending machine next to the attendant’s booth and wrenched the front open. Inside was a rack of assorted chip bags, protein bars, and other vaguely edible items. “That’ll only buy you another week,” Sam commented.
Yeah, Horizon admitted, piling up snacks in her arms. We eat a lot don’t we.
“Try and salvage some of the electronics too,” the AI suggested. “Look for batteries.”
Horizon yanked out a few components that looked important. She wasn’t familiar enough with that kind of hardware to identify specific parts, that had been MechRat’s area of expertise, but most of the parts she grabbed were large and solid. How long do we have before security forces arrive?
“Let me check,” Sam’s avatar took a quick look around. After a couple minutes she stopped, staring off at some point off in the distance. “Picking up a radio signal with Company security force encryption. Moving rapidly.”
How fast? Horizon gathered up as many snacks and components as she could carry and dashed towards the van. After tossing them in the back she turned back to the hydrogen pump.
“I would estimate in the range of 300 to 400 kilometers per hour,” Sam answered. “They should arrive in less than ten minutes.”
Horizon’s eyes widened and she lunged for the hydrogen tank, popping the line loose and tossing it carelessly aside. We need to go now! She thought. Horizon hurriedly strapped the tank in and leapt in the driver’s seat. That kind of speed meant aircraft, with the higher horizon they could spot her from a great distance.
She hit the ignition button and slammed it into gear, tearing across the pavement and down the road. Give me a map, she thought and a topographic map of the region appeared in the corner of her eye. She frantically searched the map for a place to hide the van. They were still over fifty kilometers from the campsite and unfortunately Sam’s map was limited to her own recorded observations. She hadn’t had the chance to scan much of this area yet.
“Eight minutes until they catch us,” Sam added. Horizon sped up and swerved along the road. She focused on a hill that she’d spotted on the map. As she approached the hill she swerved towards it. But with a closer look at it she realized there was nowhere she could hide there like she’d hoped. “Seven minutes.”
Horizon scanned her digital mental map for another possible hiding spot. There, two snow drifts with a narrow gap between them. Can we get a message to Shawn?
“Encrypted,” Sam replied. “But it will be detected. Six minutes until arrival.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The raccoon focused on the vole and composed a quick message. Under attack by aircraft, looking for a place to hide. Do not reply. After she shot the message off she lurched the van off the road and straight for the gap.
“Five minutes,” Sam stated. Horizon sped up towards the gap between the drifts, bouncing as the van drove over a bump in the terrain.
She caught a glimpse of a small flying object off in the distance with the right-side mirror. “Fuck!” she swore out loud. The odds that they hadn’t been seen were slim to none now.
The van lurched as it drove over another rock, beginning to tip to the left. “No, no no!” Horizon struggled to keep the van upright, but her efforts were in vain. The vehicle fell onto its side and skidded the last few meters into the gap. It ground against both drifts, knocking loose snow that fell on top of the sideways van.
Horizon gave herself a quick body scan. No major damage, just a couple bruised ribs that her leukosynths could fix in a matter of minutes. She jabbed the ignition, shutting the van down, and hit the release on her seat belt. The raccoon slumped onto the left door, which was temporarily filling in for the floor.
As much as she would have preferred to lie there and heal, time was of the essence. Horizon turned and climbed over the side of her seat into the back of the van. Infrared she thought, and her vision shifted to shades of blue and red. Most of the cooling interior was a faint purplish shade, save for some red spots around the vents. She looked for the hydrogen tank she’d just filled, but specific shapes were hard to discern in this spectrum.
Eventually she found it, a box of dark blue, colder than the chilled air of the van. She carefully walked over to it, trying not to trip on the stolen parts and snack bags that had tumbled about in the crash. When she reached the tank she ran a hand over it, searching for punctures. She breathed a sign of relief when she found none. Reassured, Horizon moved onto the rear doors, felt for the handle, and pushed it open just a crack.
Horizon peered through the crack into the blue-tinged outdoors. Deep blue flakes drifted down to the equally blue ground, but she could still spot one little red spot growing rapidly larger. Visible, she thought, and her vision switched back to normal. Against the dark night sky of Surtur the aircraft was invisible, not even running lights. She switched back to infrared and found the craft’s heat signature again. Probably police and not military if they’re giving off heat, that’s some small relief.
“Surt Company security forces are still authorized to carry automatic weapons,” Sam stated. “Based on their radio pulses I’d estimate they are less than two minutes from arrival.”
Camouflage me and dampen my heat signature, Horizon scanned for another place to hide. We can’t stay here.
Sam appeared in front of Horizon, looking concerned. “You won’t be able to fix your NiTan skeleton if I lower your temperature. Are you sure about that?”
Horizon gritted her teeth and leapt out of the stranded van. Yes, multiple bullet wounds would be harder to heal. She broke out into a run, racing across the snow at top speed.
The red spot in the sky grew larger and the sound of gunshots sounded as tracer rounds streaked overhead. Horizon dropped to the ground and rolled onto her back. In infrared she could see the small points of light as they flew, but mercifully they didn’t come any closer to her.
What little relief she felt as she laid there was dashed when she heard the explosion. She sat up and looked in the direction she’d come, where she saw nothing but an expanding fireball.
“They must have hit the tank,” Sam stated.
Gee, you think? Horizon snarled silently at her AI assistant. Now what are we going to do?
Sam’s avatar gave a shrug. “Insufficient data.”
Great, Horizon laid there, slowly slipping into despair. What could she do now?
“Enemy aircraft still approaching,” Sam reminded her. Horizon turned her attention back to the airborne heat source overhead. She followed it with her eyes as it descended, growing larger and larger.
She switched back to the visible spectrum once it was the size of a beach ball in her perspective. A blinding light shone in her face for a few moments, then moved on, apparently they hadn’t seen her. Is my camo working again? Horizon inquired.
“It is reasonably functional,” Sam answered. “So long as you don’t move very much. It has trouble compensating for motion.”
Horizon followed the craft as it descended towards the burning vehicle. Two spotlights continued to sweep the ground underneath it. She picked up a pattern to their sweeps. If I move while they’re looking away, I might be able to catch them when they land.
“It’s risky,” Sam evaluated. “But might work if you move quickly. You’re losing body heat fast.”
The raccoon leapt to her feet and raced as fast as the loose snow would let her towards her wrecked van. When she noticed the searchlights approaching she froze stiff, mere moments before the light touched her. The light continued on its way and Horizon broke off running again. However, after the second stop-and-go cycle, she noticed herself slowing down. Tiring, for the first time in quite a long time.
Sam answered before she had a chance to ask. “It’s your metabolism, you’re using up your ready reserves. If you want more energy you’ll have to up-regulate your body temperature soon or you’ll fall into a torpor.”
Great, Horizon thought. I’m on a timer too. She raced further towards the burning van as the searchlight arced her way.
“STOP!” Sam shouted just as the light covered her. Horizon froze mid-step, but that didn’t stop the searchlight from pausing on top of her. She couldn’t see anything in the blinding light as she stood there, stiff as a board, but she did hear the two large *thumps* hitting the snow.
Motors revved and Horizon switched back to infrared, replacing the blinding light with a dull red glow. Two light orange blurs shaped like snowmobiles with riders swung around wide to face her and raced in her direction, one on either side of her. She waited, unable to move lest she risk getting gunned down. As they approached, Horizon noticed that the snowmobile on the left was veering slightly closer to her than the other, and came up with a plan.
The snowmobile drove within five meters of her, and without even turning to look where she was going, she sprang. In moments, the cyborg’s synthetic hindbrain had calculated an arc that would bring her on a collision course with the driver, knock them off, and grasp hold of the handlebars. Mid-air she switched back to the visible spectrum just in time to see the black-suited driver try to raise his handlebar-mounted weapon, but too late. Horizon tried not to think about the *crunch* she heard when they collided.
She grabbed hold of the handlebar with her right hand and shoved the limp driver off with her left. The snowmobile swerved to the left, slightly towards the other vehicle. The other driver had barely enough time to look back before the cyborg blasted them with a burst of auto-fire from her newly appropriated gun.
Bullets threw up snow behind her, forcing her to zig-zag randomly. She felt a dull spike of pain in her shoulder, a lucky bullet. No point hiding anymore, she thought. Restore metabolism to full. Heat spread out from the wound, along with pain, excruciating pain that reminded her she wasn’t dead yet. This isn’t sustainable, we need cover.
She arced her zig-zagging path around the hill she’d tried to hide the van under. The hill forced the aircraft’s fire away from her for a short time, but quickly they crept closer again. She saw the fire from her burning van and swung the snowmobile around so the flames were to her back. Now she could see the aircraft clearly in the light of the fire, a VTOL carrier painted midnight blue, not dissimilar to the ones she’d flown for the Friendly Society. Though of course most of their craft didn’t have nose guns streaming tracer rounds.
Horizon felt more bullets graze her side, arms, and reinforced skull as she ducked behind the windshield. With a grimace she tried to raise the gun to aim at the VTOL, determined not to go down without a fight.
But before she could pull the trigger, the VTOL’s portside rotor exploded in a flash of fire. The craft spun out of control, tumbling through the air as more gunshots sounded from the direction Horizon had been traveling, the same direction as the camp.
She peered in the direction the shots had come from and spotted a tall, anthropomorphic figure. Shawn? She directed a focused radio burst at the figure. Is that you?
Yeah, he answered. Sorry I took so long. This suit is fast, but not that fast. Are you okay?
No, but I’ll heal. Horizon looked herself over in the dim firelight. Examining her various wounds as they closed themselves and her suit cleaned itself of blood. I always heal.