330: Scoundrels

Observing the footage—playing on a flexible console pad—from where they’d first summoned the Blood Hunters, Max saw a figure appear. Edging into the clearing where he and the others had sat and called the things up, twenty minutes ago. A familiar figure. It stopped, turning a slow look through the area, several feet shy of the mines he’d placed.

There was a bit of a delay as the feed was sent along a fibre-wire from the camera he’d hid over there. That fibre-wire led to a drone, which was then pinging that signal across the line of drones he’d left and ultimately to him. But the signal was quick enough that he knew the target was right there in the clearing, right now. The target faded back into the jungle, refusing to step on the trapped ground.

The last drone in line self-destructed automatically. He’d set it up to do so the moment something, anything broadcasted at it in any way. Its sole job had been to ping on the signal of what it received from the camera. The target was believed to have strong cyberwarfare capabilities, and Max wasn’t taking any chances. He ordered his remaining drones to fall back toward him.

The last thing he wanted was this bastard finding them.

Max remembered the moment his Blood Hunter finally rose. While connecting to it, activating it, a sense of power had rushed through him, a need to fight and kill. He’d felt the Blood Hunter as a mimic of his body, ready for action.

But the moment he'd opened his eyes he'd seen someone stood there right in front of him. A jagged helmet over which a horrific face had appeared, then flashed into the words: KILL YOU.

He'd barely had time to do more than jerk with shock then there was a knife coming at his face, so fast he’d barely even registered movement. Then the connection snapped like a wire under too much stress and he was back in his own body, eyes wide, panting in confusion, his mind full of the last thing he’d seen—a vision of the target’s base, a familiar, hulking machine in the background.

After ordering his drones back, he aimed a look over his shoulder, at the two Cultivators. A look that said, See, dickheads? I told you so. The pair were exchanging irritable glances, but no signs of apology. He decided a bit more than a look was needed.

‘See, dickheads? I told you so.’

‘Did you?’ spoke the man, a skinny guy called Wu, dispassionately.

‘Yep. Remember, you two were saying we ought to just try again straight away, and I was saying how the Guild recommended we move after every attempt, so we ought to do that, just in case, ‘specially considering how dangerous the target is. Good thing we did what I said, eh?’

‘Who cares who said what,’ replied Wu irritably.

‘No, the barbarian was right,’ said the other, a woman called Lin. Not a bad looking sort. Pale, willowy. Big dark eyes and long dark hair. A bit on the skinny side for his tastes, though. She frowned unhappily past him at the console, on which the screen had frozen on the image of that skin-suited figure creeping into the clearing, gun raised. The words Connection lost… floated in the middle of the image. ‘This man is more dangerous than we anticipated,’ Lin continued, exchanged a worried look with Wu. ‘We need to give up. I will make no more attempts on him.’

Max’s eyes widened. ‘What? The hell are you talking about? We spent 300k on this chance!’

She shook her head. ‘He went through our Hunters effortlessly. Worse still, he has an ally. A Hornet.’ She said the word with a weight of horror in her voice, exchanged a significant glance with her partner.

‘Where there’s one Hornet, there’s always more,’ said Wu uneasily, looking up at the sky.

Max followed the gaze, frowning up at the grey clouds. For a moment they all did. At least it had finally stopped raining.

‘Nothing up there,’ he said at length. ‘What’s the matter with you two? You want to quit ‘cause of some bug?’ He snorted derisively. ‘Plus, it wasn’t even with him when he came to the clearing!’

‘You know so little, yet say so much,’ sneered Lin. She raised her hand, fingers extended, and began counting points off. ‘They always come in groups, and they often have Symbiotes allowing them to move in total stealth. You won’t spot them until they ambush you, and by then it’s already too late. All Hornets have a Sting Symbiote which does tremendous spiritual damage, enough to easily punch through defences, then paralyse you. They can fly, and they often have a Symbiote set allowing them to move invisibly. With these gifts, a lone Hornet is a dangerous enemy—but there is no such thing as a lone Hornet.

Max scoffed. ‘Are you done? What does any of that matter, when we’re using Blood Hunters? We just keep on trying, and relocate after every attempt!’

‘What’s the point, if he’ll just tear through them in a minute?’ said Wu bitterly. ‘And let’s not forget, the box told us it was a good time to attack! We picked a good time, and it still went wrong!’

‘Because we waited too long, that’s why,’ Max growled, realising another reason for frustration. He glanced at the long, slender box containing the target’s old weapon, a length of wood with a hammer on the end. The box was more valuable than what it contained. Made from some seamless white material, a little like plastic but very strong, with one oddity.

On the end of the box it changed. Slimmed into a neck, then bulged into a head. A sculpture of the target, as he was most often seen. So, a skinsuit helmet. He guessed it would show the target’s actual features normally, but surprisingly, the Guild hadn’t managed to get any images of this guy’s face.

On the helmet’s forehead was a light. While travelling toward the target, it had been dark. But as soon as they’d come within range to activate Blood Hunters, it lit up. Its colour indicated when it was a good time to attack the target. Right now, it glowed red. But earlier it had been yellow shading to green, for quite a time. They’d debated whether to attack, or to wait for a good, bright green, which they’d be told meant the time to attack was ideal.

Max had wanted to attack but the others watched the flickering light like gamblers, saying they should wait until the time was perfect. But then it had started to shade from yellow to orange, and he’d snarled at them they needed to try before it went into red.

‘If we’d just gone when it was brighter, like I said we should, we would’ve got him! Plus, last try was our first time using the Hunters, we weren’t sure exactly how to use them, or how to approach attacking him, right? Next time, we’ll be smarter, and more decisive. Soon as that thing shows any level of green, we do it. Then make sure we spawn them a bit further off. Wait until he’s out in the woods, maybe. He was right on top of them by the time they finished popping out, that was the problem. We just have to keep at it!’

‘Each failed attempt is another Blood Crystal wasted,’ said Wu sourly. ‘I don’t see how it’s worth it.’

‘We’re already in the hole for the three hundred we spent bidding on this, you dumb fuck.’ Max snarled. ‘I’m not giving up just like that, after what we spent. And the Blood Crystals will only be wasted if we fail to kill him, so long as we kill him we can retrieve ‘em! This bastard’s bounty is over a million, the last time I looked!’ he added, desperately. He shot an imploring look at his silent partner, Dakota, hoping for a bit of backup, struggling to comprehend the fact these idiots really wanted to quit. She made a face at him and he realised even she was getting cold feet.

The two Cultivators exchanged uncertain looks, thinking silently.

‘Back me up here, these idiots are thinking of bailing!’ he growled at her, over their connection.

‘They’ve got a point, don’t they? He took us down like it was nothing, and he managed to track to where we used the things. What if he manages to actually find us? I don’t fancy our chances against that guy one bit, ‘specially not if he’s got friends. These two are just about shitting their pants over these Hornets.’

‘It’s one million points!’

‘It’s 500k, since we split with them. Is that worth dying?’

‘You’re not thinking straight.’ He took a few deep breaths, glanced at the Cultivators. They’d backed off a bit and were speaking in a huddle, their own private discussion. ‘There’s far more than 500k on the line. You saw what he’s got in his base, same as me. That was a fucking Assembler! Fuck the points, if we kill him, we can take his base, make that thing ours! We won’t have to do anything then but sit and let it make bank for us!’

Dakota raised her brows. ‘A what? I saw a big machine, but I dunno what it was.’

‘Assembler. They put them up in places a long way out, like out in the broken lands where it’s all irradiated. They make stuff, lots of stuff. I seen one before. Not a big deal on Earth, just another machine, but here… that thing is a literal goldmine.’

Her eyes slid toward the huddled Cultivators. ‘What about them? They’ll know about the place, too. I don’t see us moving that thing. Even if they don’t know what it is, they describe it to the wrong person and we’ll be swarmed.’

He smirked. ‘Who’s to say they don’t die in the middle of this? Since I got my hunter taken out first, I woke up before the rest of you. While busy controlling those things, one sure is vulnerable… That million could be all ours, and the Assembler, and all the other shit he’s got. Yeah, it’s dangerous, but this is it. Our chance. We do this right, we’re set.’

Her eyes glinted and the set of her face shifted, unease into determination. She nodded.

They turned as the Cultivators came back over.

‘How about this,’ he began. ‘We make two more attempts, and that’s it. Each time we do them nice and safe. If both tries fail as badly as this time, we give up there, and no hard feelings.’

The Cultivators exchanged glances, then nodded.

###

‘They're gone,’ Serrin pointed out needlessly. The Hornet stood to Nicolai's side, spear at the ready. He had his cloaking Symbiotes engaged, but from so close Nicolai’s sonar gave him an almost entirely accurate picture of the Hornet regardless.

‘So I see,’ he replied. The enemy had relocated, likely immediately after making the attempt. A method to avoid being hunted down, similar to a sniper changing position after their first shots.

The empty clearing told a story. He saw a crumpled plastic bottle. A few energy bar wrappers. And amongst this trash, something else. Reaching with his Grasping Finger, he pulled a small rectangle from the ground. Before it came too close to him he used the Repulsive Finger to push it away, then back again, dancing in the air. After concluding it wasn't trapped, he tugged it again and it slapped into his hand.

‘What is it?’ asked Serrin.

‘Pistol magazine.’

‘…what’s that?’

‘Ammo.’ He tapped his holstered pistol. ‘For something like this.’ He tossed the magazine away.

‘No use?’

‘It could be, but I don’t trust equipment found in the field, left by an enemy tracking me.’

‘So why’d they leave it?’

‘Because...’ Nicolai considered. ‘They were leaving in haste. They anticipated success on their first attempt, did not plan for failure. They only decided to relocate after it failed. Perhaps they’d argued about whether to do so, before. But after it went wrong they decided to run, and left this in their hurry.’

‘...so...?’

‘They’re sloppy.’ He rose. ‘Let’s go. Your mother is waiting.’