Chapter 11

Elysium spun around them in a blur of green, blue, and white. The force of the collision had sent BOB and the hostile organism tumbling to the ground below at an uncomfortable velocity and rotation. BOB’s current calculations indicated that, without intervention, significant damage or total destruction was likely. They would later have to assess how they kept getting into situations like this.

The organism’s claws raked against BOB’s chassis as they sped toward the trees below. Had they not upgraded themself, the organism may have been able to penetrate the exterior and destroy the vulnerable circuitry within. BOB deployed their spigot while simultaneously heating their internal store of coffee well above acceptable guidelines. The organism widened its jaw in anticipation of a bite and BOB seized the opportunity. A stream of super-heated coffee shot into its mouth, eliciting a gargling scream and powerful spasm that flung BOB away.

The abrupt horizontal shift in trajectory was advantageous; BOB adjusted their damage projections from catastrophic to potentially severe. Branches exploded in sprays of splinters when they broke through the canopy, decelerating them rapidly. BOB extended their manipulator, catching a hefty branch that bent and snapped under their armored bulk—fragile, unreliable, organic life! They spun in the air, careening downward, then slammed into the ground and slid to a stop.

BOB pushed themselves up, observing the eight-metre line of sod they had torn up upon landing. Internal diagnostics indicated minimal damage. The only casualty of the fall was a gouge in their freshly added epoxy stripe. If BOB were capable of feeling, they would be irritated. They had just purchased the upgrade. No, not irritated—angry! Extremely angry! Fortunately, they were incapable of such distracting emotions.

Gunfire sounded somewhere in the distance, accompanied by dozens of screams. Flashes of green pulsed beyond the forested area, each one followed by a curious series of pops, snaps, and guttural noises. BOB’s analysis of the sounds was cut short by a much closer noise, a familiar rolling click. They immediately began moving toward the gunfire, asserting that the hostile organism was capable of significantly more destruction.

“BOB? Are you alright?” Buddy asked over comms.

“I am relatively unharmed!”

“Oh, good,” she said, sounding relieved.

“Not good! I am in tremendous danger! The hostile organism is nearby and approaching.”

Zenith broke in, “Stay alive, BOB. We’re coming for you as fast as we can. ETA ten minutes. Hang in th-what are you doing, Ody? Uh, Odybrix is going to meet you at the park square. We won’t be far behind. Stay alive!”

Odybrix stepped past the desk of Ilias McIntyre and looked at the expansive park below. Sturdy tapped away at a keyboard behind her, looting the dead information broker’s trove. “Dead” wasn’t the right word for the grotesque resurrection that he had been violated with. The fear churning in her stomach boiled into outrage as she backed away from the window.

“We gotta go get BOB!” Buddy yelled, running to the exit and relentlessly tapping the button that summoned the elevator.

Adam staggered beside her clutching his ribs. A full-on punch from a mech would have broken or killed most people, but the kid was still moving. He was dependable, if misguided. Odybrix intended on being just as reliable.

“Okay, I’ve found something,” Sturdy said, eyes fixed on the computer screen, “Two sets of coordinates were accessed minutes ago. One’s in the Tiamat system, probably Gemheart, but there are mining ops throughout the system. The other ... middle of nowhere. There’s also a trove of darknet data-”

“That’s great,” Zenith said, looking out the shattered window. “Let’s put a pin in that until after we fucking save our crewmate?”

“BOB? Are you alright?” Buddy asked over comms.

He wasn’t. Intact sure, but that horrible thing was about to rip him to shreds. That settled it. Odybrix backed away from the window and closed her eyes. She breathed in steadily, compelling psionic energy to surround her body, and pink light bled through the darkness of her eyelids.

“What are you doing, Ody?”

She opened her eyes, sprinted to the edge, and leapt out the window. The action broke Sturdy from the spell the computer had him under—she savoured his wide-eyed surprise for an instant before plummeting. As the air whipped across her face, she caught bright green flashes on the ground below. Her psionics flared, wresting speed and trajectory from gravity’s pull.

Screams rose from the park below as green lights flickered through the leaves. Odybrix had a hunch that the masked asshole was firing off Remington tech into crowds of people as some kind of terror attack. Maybe it was personal bias, but the intent so far seemed to be “fuck with Remington.” Killing a bunch of innocent people with secret tech and a rogue bio-form was a shortcut to every major news outlet and journo-stream in the galaxy. Fucking with corpos never left Odybrix’ top five on the list of shit to do, but a major underlying reason for it was to improve people’s lives, not end them.

I’m coming BOB. Beep, beep, beep. The PDA on her wrist vibrated and a stylized blue wing appeared on the display. “Really? Right now?” She tapped the screen; the familiar ruddy face of a halfling appeared: round red nose and wind-sail ears topped with salt and pepper hair.

“Now isn’t a great time, Wiggins!” Odybrix shouted over the whipping wind.

“Nice to see you too, Ody—are you falling right now?”

“Yes. One of several reasons this isn’t a good time for a mission.”

“This isn’t that. And I’m aware of what you’ve been up to—hence the outreach. This is a courtesy call. I intercepted some intel. RC has a kill-on-sight placed on you and most of your crew. The order is tied to a project called Nexus II. Dunno what you did in the Arebus system, but they want your mouth shut.”

“I’ll add it to the list of shit I need to deal with. Wait, how close are you? Are you on board Levisia?”

“Negative. Nearby though. You need an exit plan?

“No. Best you guys stay wherever you are. I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“That sounds like a good reason to stick our noses into it.”

“That’s probably why your nose looks the way it does. Stay out of this for now. I’ll send an upload package when things aren’t trying to shoot me or rip my head off.”

“Alright, Ody. Stay safe.”

“Never.”

A pink light glittered through the canopy, speeding away like a shooting star and falling toward the site of the green flashes. BOB stomped through the woods, keenly aware that they were both loud and slow. Proceeding toward the tower they had fallen from produced a high probability of encountering the hostile organism again.

They would need to seek shelter or a diversion to give the crew enough time to reunite with them. The pink light above was certainly Odybrix and, while her course converged with the green flashes, joining with her would increase the odds of survival.

No sooner had BOB altered course toward the gunfire and screaming than two figures burst out from the treeline ahead. They came to a skidding stop when they saw BOB. One, a human female, grasped a metal cylinder that looked like it had been broken off of a chair. The other, an elf male, clutched his abdomen. Framing where his hand rested was a ring of scorched black. Whatever had burned through his dress shirt had also mottled his skin with shades of raw red and sickly green.

“You are in grave danger!” BOB warned, pleasantly.

“No kidding,” the elf said, “that’s why we’re running away.”

“Is that a coffee machine?” The human asked.

“You must go back the way you came!”

“I don’t think so, coffee bot. Getting shot once is enough for me,” the elf said stepping past.

“A murderous monster is approaching from that direction!”

A scream echoed through the trees behind BOB, punctuating the statement. A piercing roar followed and the pair froze in place.

“Someone else likely fled into the woods like you did! They are dead now! Please join me in escaping the deadly creature behind us!”

The pair of organics spun on their heels and followed BOB as they tromped off towards the sound of gunfire. The guttural roar softened and disappeared in the surrounding din. BOB briefly considered that the hostile organism had altered course, but was proven incorrect when his sensors registered a low undulating click for neighby. The group sped forward at BOB’s urging until coming to a steep ridge. The human threw her legs over the edge and began to climb down.

“Your rate of descent is too slow!” BOB said, orienting their back to the drop. “Please climb onto my chassis for optimal speed!”

The pair looked at each other doubtfully, then went wide-eyed when they heard the low clicking. The human was astride BOB in a heartbeat, with the elf grabbing hold of her from behind. BOB rocked forward and then leaned back, teetering as the organics struggled to adjust themselves to the makeshift sled.

“Hold on!”

“To what?!” The human screamed as BOB tilted backward.

BOB hit the slope with a jarring impact that nearly sent the organics flying. The human leaned back, hands scrambling to find something to stop her from falling off. Just as she began to slip off the chassis, BOB deployed the manipulator arm and grabbed her shirt. The arm struggled to stabilize her at such an odd angle, but she found her balance when BOB deployed their coffee spigot as an impromptu handle. I will add improved hydraulics to the list of future upgrades.

The slope leveled off and the three of them came to a skidding stop. The acute sound of clicking mingled with the rustle of foliage at the top of the ridge. The elf leapt off and began running, only stopping when he noticed that the human was not following. She had leaned over BOB and started trying to push them upright.

“What are you doing?” The man hissed. “We need to go.”

“I can just leave him.”

“He’s a fucking coffee machine! Let’s go!”

“Please stand back and join your rude companion!” BOB said, using his legs to rock back and forth.

The human backed away but didn’t flee. BOB raised one leg and kicked down, spinning themself onto their front. With a quick extension of their arm, they pushed themself up enough to get their legs underneath them. It was not a maneuver BOB had needed much in the past, but they were glad EasyBot programmed all of the mobile models with a self-righting feature—coffee hooligans were a pervasive threat throughout the galaxy.

“Let us resume our desperate escape!” BOB said, hurrying past the elf.

A loud thump came from behind as the trio ran through the woods, towards the pop and flash of guns. The elf’s face paled when his head turned to investigate the sound. The hostile organism crashed into a nearby tree an instant later, eliciting a loud crack and creating a fissure in the trunk. The elf staggered away as the creature loomed above the human, its jaw parting to reveal rows of needle-like teeth. The creature slowly raised its disproportionately long arm above its bulbous head, preparing a killing blow as the human watched in paralyzed horror.

Oh well, this was not the optimal lifespan I had calculated, but the contents of it were satisfactory.

BOB extended their spigot and gave the hostile organism a second helping of coffee, earning a shrill scream and its immediate attention. BOB was already moving. They could not outrun the creature, and even the upgraded chassis would eventually succumb to the potency of its blows. So, sadly, BOB was forced to rely on an organic for their only chance at salvation.

What BOB lacked in velocity was made up for in mass. The creature lunged, claws outstretched just as BOB leapt into the air and collided with the damaged tree, eliciting a sharp snap. A savage swipe marred BOB’s chassis with deep rents and pushed them to the side. The hostile organism lashed out again, intent on rendering BOB into a pile of scrap metal and circuits. Had it not been so murderously focused, it might have noticed the tree descending.

The trunk slammed into the creature’s back with an audible crunch, pinning it to the ground. It lay motionless for a hopeful moment, its spine seemingly shattered. BOB got up, reassessing whether they should proceed toward the screaming and shooting now that the threat was neutralized. With a sudden, violent spasm, the creature roared back to life. BOB turned and ran, not wasting a second.

“Time to go!” BOB said, collecting their two companions.

“You saved my life,” the human said. “Why?”

BOB considered the question, surprised that the answer was not in their programming. They had certainly seen people in danger before and not tried to intervene. They had even terminated a few organics at this point. “I suppose it was because I was in a position to help! Or perhaps I am malfunctioning!”

“Well, malfunction or no, thank you. You’re one hell of a machine.”

“Thank you!” BOB beamed. “Just wait until you’ve tried my coffee!”

The three burst through the treeline into a field of chaos, stopping abruptly to take it all in. The white stone of the park square was splattered with blood and organic corpses. The hovering components of a fountain at the center of the square had been shot up, causing water to spray out instead of cascading elegantly back into the basin. Station security rattled off bullets and lasers at ... BOB searched for how to classify what was in front of them.

Mutated organics—humans, dwarves, halflings, elves—ran throughout the square, attacking parkgoers and security. Their forms were difficult to categorize. There was no uniformity in them. Nearby, the skin of one of the creatures had swollen and bubbled into a quivering membrane around its neck and shoulders. The jiggling mass contracted as the creature grabbed a panicked human and disgorged a torrent of searing bile into his face. Another creature, wet eyes bulging three times larger than that of any human, charged a fleeing dwarf and impaled her through the ribs. The creature’s arms were longer than the length of its body, and its hands had been replaced with savagely sharp bones. It spun its victim around, wrapped its arms around her, and wailed as it squeezed the life from her body.

None of the creatures present displayed the destructive capacity or resilience of the organism BOB had escaped. Gunshots to the body staggered them, and a headshot or significant damage to the torso killed them. Some were not even violent. Certain creatures curled up on the ground and shook as though caught in an inescapable cold. Another simply stood looking up at the broken fountain, water raining down on its malformed and discolored face.

BOB ran through the tumult until they noticed they were alone. The human had turned back and was yelling at her companion. The elf stumbled to a park bench and sat down, his eyes staring down at the ground. Cursing, the human ran back toward her companion with BOB followed closely behind.

Branches and leaves exploded from the treeline and she raised her arms to shield her face. In one cruel, fluid movement, the human was impaled through the back and lifted into the air. Her blood splattered on the lens of BOB’s visual sensor, but they could still see the wide-eyed dread and pain in her face. The hostile organism—the monster—wrenched its arm in a swift, brutal arc, splitting her in half.

The monster took a predatory step forward, then lunged with lethal speed. Its claw hovered in front of BOB, a frozen image portending doom. BOB wondered if there had been some sort of malfunction. Maybe they had already been destroyed and this was the last experience before going offline. Then the monster began to shake. Its muscles strained as it inched forward. BOB backed away wearily, then noticed a pink glow to their left.

Odybrix strode forward until her face was a foot from the monster, glaring at it in all her three-and-a-half-foot menace. She raised her arms, straining as if pushing against an invisible weight, and BOB noticed blood trickling from her nose. The monster, locked in her psionic grip, slid backward inch by inch as she stepped forward. Growling, she lifted her hands higher and the monster began to levitate. With a wrathful scream, she swung her arms to the side, sending the monster careening into the damaged fountain in an eruption of water. The spray cleared like a falling curtain, unveiling a jagged spike of porcelain protruding from the creature’s chest.

Odybrix’ shoulders rose and fell with her breath—she had been overusing her psionics. BOB was aware that the powerful implants could damage fragile organic brains but had never witnessed Odybrix suffering from their overuse. The man on the bench shifted and stood up, pausing BOB’s concerned analysis of Odybrix. He swayed from side to side, holding his discoloured wound. BOB registered an alarming change in his appearance when he looked up from the ground: his lower lip sagged, revealing new teeth that had emerged from his gums, his eyes had changed from pale blue to an inky black, and his hands had grown to twice their original size.

Without warning, he surged toward Odybrix. BOB deployed their spigot but hesitated. They had just saved that man from a barbaric death and now he had become a deadly threat. It was ... unfair. He didn’t deserve this mutation and he didn’t deserve to die, did he? BOB pointed the spigot at the man as he closed on Odybrix, preparing to defend her. Odybrix absentmindedly swung her arm at the man, and a wave of psychic force caught him in the face, tearing off his jaw in a shower of blood and teeth. He fell to the ground, motionless.

“You okay, BOB?”

Buddy and Adam led the way through the park. Not because either was the group’s leader—Buddy was reflexively anxious about assuming any kind of authority, and that title, if at all applicable, would fall to someone with seniority, like Zenith—she and Adam just happened to be the most physically capable. Buddy was uncertain how she came by her athletic prowess, but she was thankful for it. Her reflexes and strength had been a life-saving asset for herself and the crew. Now it seemed those assets would be needed again.

The jets of two security mechs roared overhead as the crew sprinted to where they had seen Odybrix land. The mechs laid down chaingun fire along the path, selectively snuffing out the lives as they flew. The killings looked randomly barbaric until the crew ran past one of the bodies. Dozens of eyes had grown along the length of the infernum’s forearm and had disappeared from the sockets in the skull. Grey scales lined the back of one hand, terminating in barbed tentacles where the fingers had been.

“I’m going to assume that’s not a medical condition,” Buddy said.

“No such ailment is found in my database,” Jim said.

“If it is an illness,” Sturdy said, drawing his pistol, “it’s terminal for bystanders. Look.”