Free Radical (36 page)

"You shouldn't throw term 'assault rifle' around, since most of the time it is misused. What is the caliber?"

"I don't know. How can I tell?"

"How wide do you think the muzzle is?"

"Um, I suppose I could get my thumb in there without too much trouble."

She paused for a moment, chewing her noodles thoughtfully. "Either you have really tiny hands or you've got a shotgun."

"If you say so, but it doesn't look anything like a shotgun."

"Looks like an automatic rifle?"

"Yeah."

"I can't say for sure, but my guess is that you're looking at a DC-05 Riot Gun."

"Any good?"

"Shoots rubber bullets."

"Hell," Deck dropped it carelessly on the floor. "Next one. Looks like a standard shotgun. Probably not a good choice against bots."

Rebecca nodded as she slurped up more noodles.

The next one was an energy weapon of some sort. He skipped it, since it would be of limited usefulness against metal targets. The last weapons were identical to the one he was carrying, save for the dents and scratches on his.

"Okay, here's one. Looks pretty sophisticated. Display screen on the side. Several buttons. It has some sort of socket on the side. I've been lugging one around for a while, but I think mine is broken."

"A socket?," she paused and thought for a moment, "Is there a catch just behind the grip, like a small metal latch or something?"

"Hang on."

He checked, and found a small mechanism recessed into the surface of the stock. He hadn't noticed it before. There were a pair of metal latches surrounding a twisting, spring-loaded knob. All of the parts were very small and close together, to the point where it was almost impossible for an adult male to manipulate them. After some experimentation, he found he could move the latches if he turned and held the knob at the same time. It took both hands, but he managed to activate the mechanism. The moment he did, the stock fell from the rear of the weapon and the grip and trigger housing swung free from the frame.

"Oh hell. I found it, but when I used it the damn thing fell apart."

She rolled her eyes, "I wondered what was taking so long. I only asked if it had one, I didn't say to try and use it."

The weapon was now much smaller and a few pounds lighter. The trigger housing could be slid free and removed completely now. "Oh. Well, what the hell is the point of that? Just in case you need your gun to fall apart?"

"It's for mounting. You can attach it to a mounting arm or a sentry tripod or whatever. The weapon is usable directly as a firearm or it can be attached and used in other ways."

"You can mount this on a bot?"

"I'm sure you can, although the main use is to attach them to tripods and hook them up to motion sensors. In cases where you have a lot more money than personnel, they make for good sentries."

"So is it any good? For me, I mean."

"The weapon you have is nicknamed 'Fletch'. Consider yourself lucky. Those things cost more than I make in a year. I got to fire one of them once. They are pretty amazing weapons."

"I'll bring one back for you," he grinned.

She smiled. "I think you'll have a little trouble getting it through terminal security once you're planet-side."

"So how does it work?"

"The weapon is a flechette. It fires slender, caseless rounds about the proportions of a sewing needle. They have an extreme penetration value. The rounds used by your new friend here are 'smart' rounds. They are able to explode a specified number of nanoseconds after impact."

"I don't get it."

"The rounds - the bullets - detonate, right? A small explosion in the center of the round will cause the case to mushroom outward and splinter into smaller shards. You can adjust when the rounds detonate on the weapon itself. Say you're fighting an unarmored human. You would set the rounds to go off on impact, which will knock the target down and damage them similar to a hollow-point bullet. That's great for fighting soft, organic targets, but it would be useless against a bot or someone with some high-tech armor."

"It would?," Deck began to realize that knowing how to load a gun and pull the trigger was a far cry from actually knowing anything about firearms.

"Yes, all the damage would be absorbed by the armor, while the target itself would hardly be damaged at all. When fighting an armored opponent, you want the round to penetrate the armor and then explode once it gets inside. That's what makes Fletch so cool. You can adjust the depth, or have the rounds never explode at all."

"Why would you do that?"

"Say you had a target on the opposite side of a solid wall, and you know where they are. Maybe you have some thermal detection gear, or maybe you just know where they're standing - the point is, you know where to aim, but there is a wall in the way. You would set Fletch to maximum penetration, aim at them through the wall, and be able to score a hit. The rounds won't tear the target apart, but it will perforate them - which is good enough when dealing with organic targets."

She had set the empty carton aside and was illustrating her point by making sharp, stabbing motions with her index finger. There was an enthusiasm in her voice that he hadn't heard before.

He looked down at the weapon, "So how do I use it?"

She explained how to put the weapon back together. It turned out that it wasn't broken - he just hadn't turned on the power. Rebecca spent the next twenty minutes explaining how to use and care for Fletch. He learned how to power up the weapon, adjust the rate of fire, set the penetration value, and control the amount of spin placed on rounds leaving the chamber. The spin setting was a bit complex and she advised him to just leave it at the default value.

Just beneath the muzzle was a tiny lens. The weapon could send visual data back to whatever machine connected to it, providing targeting information. On top of the weapon were mounting brackets for a scope, although none of the weapons were equipped with one. Along the stock was the battery housing, which grew warm when the weapon was switched on.

Directly underneath the weapons were the appropriate ammunition. Deck found what he needed and Rebecca explained how to reload.

The clips - magazines, she corrected him - were incredibly heavy. Each one was about the proportions of a pack of cigarettes, but felt like brick in his hand. He slipped four of them into his right thigh pocket to counter the weight of the weapon on his left leg. There were more available, but he didn't want to give up too much of his mobility. Besides, he could always stop back and pick up more if he ran low. He didn't imagine he would need very much - it wasn't like he was about to start a one-man war with Shodan's armies.

She gave him a quick lesson on how to hold the weapon, how to stand, and how to fire without overheating or losing his target due to kickback. It was a lot to learn, and Deck knew he was only scratching the surface of what he needed to know.

Once the lesson was over, Rebecca told him to head back to the storage level, and they would explain the plan once he got there. She signed off.

As he turned to leave he paused for moment to consider the dummy sword. It might still be useful against mutants. Perhaps he could find the edged component.

The sword was straight and short, almost exactly the length of his arm from shoulder to fingertip. It was shaped like a double-edged, European-style sword. It was different from the Asian types he had learned to use, but the idea was still the same.

He took a few more swings, spinning the blade in a dramatic and showy series of imaginary attacks. He movements were hampered by the hardware he was carrying on his legs.

The grip seemed to be separate from the rest of the sword, as if it could be detached. Curious, he pulled on the handle and tried to twist it free.

A hum rose from the blade and a line of blue light traced the outer edge. It emerged from the groove and shimmered like a gas flame. The ribbon of light was so thin it couldn't be seen edge-on - it was perfectly two-dimensional.

Deck stared in disbelief. He had never even heard of technology like this. Was it hot? Radioactive? Electrified? What was it?

He took a few gentle swings, testing the weapon. Aside from the trail of blue light, it behaved exactly as before.

He decided to test it. He set the impact gel vest on top of the desk and stepped away. He spun the blade a few times and then struck.

At first he thought he'd missed. The vest didn't even move. A few seconds later, a dribble of clear gel leaked from an almost invisible wound in the vest.

It was pretty clear that he would be taking it with him, just needed to figure out a way to carry it.

Ten minutes later Deck emerged from the security station. He had found a weapons belt among the uniforms, and had buckled it to his bodysleeve so that he could store the sword on his back. He was learning to move gracefully with all of the hardware on his legs, but he still resented the drag they put on his mobility.

He retraced his steps across the level, back to freight elevator.

He hit the elevator call button and waited. He needed to get to the storage level and contact Rebecca.

After a few more seconds of waiting, he realized that the elevator should already be on this level. He glanced up at the display. It was on its way down from the research level.

The only reason for the elevator to be on some other level was if someone else had been using it. Whoever it was might still be on it.

He was in a wide open corridor. The door to the kitchen on his right was heavily barricaded. He didn't have any cover. Franticly, he began to pull on the straps that held Fletch in place, trying to get it free.

There was a friendly chime as the elevator arrived.

The doors parted and a small service bot rolled out. It was short and round, with a pair of long, multi-jointed arms hanging at its sides. It rushed him.

Deck tugged frantically on the weapon, but couldn't pull it free of his makeshift holster. As the bot closed in, he threw himself onto his back and brought his knee up, aiming the barrel at the bot as he pulled the trigger.

The weapon let out a high pitched whine like an electric drill, and the bot was pelted with metal rain. It was unaffected by the tiny perforations, and moved into position over Deck's body.

He realized that the weapon was set for maximum penetration. In a panic, he stabbed the appropriate button, trying to set the weapon for armored opponents as the bot began to hammer him with its slender metal arms.

The arms dealt a series of crunching blows to his legs and upper body as he struggled to bring the weapon into position. He pulled the trigger, and his ears were filled with the sound of tearing metal. The bot toppled over and smoke drifted from the many holes in its surface. The smell of burnt electronics and melted plastic filled the air. Huge chunks had been torn from its surface.

"Holy crap," Deck said aloud as he looked at the damage the weapon had done. The exit wounds were baseball-sized holes. The sweep had nearly cut the thing in half. It was complete overkill. He could have saved himself some ammunition if he'd used the sword.

He stood and poked at the bot with his foot. Around the wreckage on the floor were items that had fallen from its carrying tray. It was an odd collection of random stuff: a clock radio, a laser-driven "tape measure," a leveling tool, a couple of calculators, a wristwatch, and a vox.

He rubbed the bruises he'd received on his shins and thighs. He decided the half-assed holster he had come up with was a liability. He would just carry the gun.

The storage area was unchanged since his last visit. It was time to find out why he was here.

"Lansing here."

"I'm on the storage level. Now what?"

"You need to find an EVA suit. There should be several in the storage area."

"EVA? Like you mean, a spacesuit?"

"That's right. While you're doing that, there is a Dr. Victor Coffman here that would like to talk to you."

"Wait. I've heard that name before."

"Morris mentioned him. Dr. Coffman was the Leader of Project Shodan."

"Right. The guy who wanted the big bucks just to come in and give advice on Shodan. Did TriOp really put up that much coin for one guy?"

Rebecca gave a halfhearted shrug, "I don't know. I'm not really in the loop on that sort of thing."

Deck walked through the long aisles of storage containers as they talked, looking for an inventory terminal.

"Fine. Hey - before you go. I just ran into something odd a few minutes ago."

Rebecca laughed, "After what you've been through, I'd love to know what you'd still consider 'odd'."

"I ran into some delivery bot or something. Little guy. No big deal. Except, in his storage tray he had a bunch of loose electronic equipment. Clocks, tools, calculators, that kind of thing."

"Ok... And?"

"That's it."

"Hacker, the bots up there were 
killing people
, and you are shocked when you find one of them carrying junk around? The bots are crazy. Therefore, crazy behavior should be expected."

"You're missing the point. I don't think this was 'crazy' behavior. I haven't seen any bots acting on their own. They have always been acting on behalf of 
Her
."

There was a long pause as Rebecca stared down at the terminal in front of her and thought, "I still don't get it. What would Shodan want with junk?"

"I think it was gathering up more parts for her. Remember how I said all the terminals were gone? I think she rounded those up, and is still looking for more stuff, more computer chips."

"But a calculator? That can't have much usable hardware in it."

"It think she's already cleaned out all of the good stuff. She's sort of scraping the bottom of the barrel now."

"Understood."

There was a long pause before Deck changed the subject, "So, what do I need this spacesuit for? I hope you're not going to send me outside."