Eric and the Quantum Dragon

Little Angels Orphanage, District Eight

Saturday December 29th, V26 (2046)

Nothing was packing the small backpack that Seven often used, putting only the essentials she needed to take. With a last look around the room, the servant of the Abyss hoisted the pack onto the girl’s back and turned to leave.

Jenny chose that moment to walk into the shared bedroom and looked curiously at her room-mate.

“Going somewhere, Seven?” she asked in a friendly tone. “You missed lunch in the dining hall so I was coming to check you were Okay”

“I’m fine” Nothing answered the girl, annoyed that her plan to leave unnoticed had been thwarted so soon. “I am not hungry, so please stop spying on me”

“Are you sure?” Jenny persisted. “You didn’t come down for breakfast either. You must be starving by now!”

Nothing regarded the girl with flat dark eyes. In truth, Seven’s body was crying out for sustenance since it had a faster metabolism than a regular human child. In her mind she stamped down on the hunger pangs, crushing them under her mental feet. Just like she did to the anguished cries of Seven’s personality, locked away in a dungeon deep in the darkness.

“Please don’t worry about me” Nothing insisted to the human girl. “I am going to meet someone in the City. I will eat then”

“Oh, Okay then” Jenny replied and moved aside as Nothing walked past her. “Will you be back in time for dinner?”

Nothing paused and met the girl’s concerned expression with her own hard gaze.

“No” she said flatly and walked out.

=====

Seven fought against the chains that bound her, struggling against the darkness that kept her imprisoned in her own mind. Nothing had control of the Quantum Processor and used that to drive the body they shared, leaving Seven and her thoughts pushed far back into the organic brain.

It was a haven of sorts, a part of the body that the enhancements did not rule over. Seven’s true mind existed in both the machine and flesh parts, yet for now she was trapped inside a cage made from her own skull.

“Stop making a fuss” Nothing spoke to her. “You can’t do anything about this so go to sleep you wretched child!”

“NEVER!” she screamed and felt Nothing flinch for just a moment. Then the parasite wrapped around her tightly, squeezing her thoughts like a serpent, thick coils strangling her until she nearly disappeared under the strong grip of the invader.

At the last second, the mental hold was loosened and she heard Nothing speaking to her.

“Not yet, little Seven” she whispered in the darkness. “I still need you in here, so you are spared for now”

With those final words, Nothing left her alone in her cell, gasping and crying in the blackness.

“Eric” she whimpered to the void, a single word of hope that gave her scant comfort.

=====

Sister Agatha was urgently thumping on the wooden door, so Sister Adoracion opened it and gave her junior a measured glare.

“Yes, Sister?” she enquired. “Is there a good reason for such a racket during my afternoon prayers?”

“The brat, that spawn of Satan that Jericho dumped on us, she has broken into my Armoury again!” Agatha spat out, her anger making little flecks of spit fly from her mouth. Adoracion grimaced and wiped a few drops from her cheek and regarded the other Sister.

“She’s always going in there” Adoracion responded calmly. “Selena takes spare parts for her little projects but they are not dangerous, so why the big fuss?”

“Not this time, Adoracion!” Agatha nearly shouted, forgetting to address her superior with her title. “She took guns and ammunition, some explosives too!”

“What?” the older Sister replied. “Selena never uses weapons like that! She only ever made things like EMP Burst guns and Stun Rods”

Agatha was seething, feeling vindicated at last about her long standing mistrust of the clone child.

“I warned you she would be dangerous” Agatha cried, her voice thick with anger. “You refused to control her, despite all the times she broke into my Armoury. Now we have that little psychopath on the loose and she is fully armed!”

Sister Adoracion was becoming angry too, but she mentally calmed herself with effort, refusing to think the worst of the girl she tried to care for over the past year.

“If Selena has taken weapons, she is facing some kind of danger” Adoracion explained carefully to her fellow Sister. “It is out of character for her, so it must be something big”

“Or she has finally snapped!” Agatha added vindictively. “We need to alert Jericho-Two and that other clone, the boy Agent. They need to find her and get her under control”

“I agree with you there, Sister Agatha” Adoracion told her. “I will contact both of them now”

She turned and left the other Sister still fuming impotently while she walked with measured strides to her office.

“Dear Selena, what have you gotten yourself into now?” Sister Adoracion muttered to herself. Whatever it was, she knew the girl’s time at the Little Angels Orphanage was coming to a close.

The Fortress, Pan City Harbour

The Helijet was a commercial model used by top level businessmen and rich citizens. Frank Brackenridge qualified for both of those categories and flew with modest skill towards the big lump of reinforced concrete everyone called the Fortress. It squatted in the middle of the harbour like a giant grey toad, VTOLs and drones zipping around it like flies waiting to be gobbled up.

Threat warnings lit up on the virtual flight displays in front of Frank in the pilot seat and Carmody in the co-pilot seat. She pointed at the flashing red alerts with a worried expression.

“Um, Frank, should we be concerned about those?” she asked him nervously. The girl had been excited to take the second front seat, a privilege normally reserved for Angelina or Yolanda, depending on who was flying with him.

“It’s fine” he assured her calmly. “We have to be a lot closer before they open fire”

He opened his comms link and spoke to the Fortress Defence Controller.

“Fortress Control, this is Flight B-T-Zero-One, requesting clearance for landing at Deck One”

“Ah, B-T-Zero-One, please transmit authorisation code or you will be fired upon” said a voice over the helmet earphones. Carmody and Angelina were both wearing the same helmets as Frank so all of them could hear the conversation.

“Sending now, Control” Frank acknowledged and hit a button on his control panel. A few moments later the response came back.

“Authorisation accepted. You are cleared for landing. Welcome aboard the Fortress, Mr Brackenridge”

“Thanks, Control” he said and grinned at Carmody, who gave him a weak smile in response. He angled the Helijet towards the uppermost landing deck, one normally reserved for senior Guard officers and the Avatars.

As the aircraft approached, he slowed their rate of descent and put more power into the rotor that whirled overhead. The landing deck grew larger in their vision, bright lights running around the perimeter and a big cross hair showing him where to touch down.

Carmody jumped when he extended the landing gear, a big bang resounding through the aircraft as the outer wheel hatches swung open. With a final deft touch of the controls, Frank set the vehicle down dead centre of the landing area.

A pair of grey armoured Guards approached from the front of the aircraft, making sure the pilot could see them. Frank lifted his hand and gave them a thumbs up, then powered the engines down.

“Okay girls, your escort is here” he announced and took off his helmet. Carmody and Angelina did the same and once the main rotor had stopped spinning he opened the cabin door remotely.

“Aren’t you coming with us, Frank?” Carmody asked him as she climbed into the rear section.

“No, I am not welcome on the Fortress right now” he told her honestly. “They weren’t happy I insisted on flying you both here, but I told them I don’t trust anyone else with my two favourite girls”

“I’ll make sure someone brings you a drink and snacks” Angelina promised her father and leaned across the seat to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

After grabbing their bags and Carmody hefted her cricket bat, the two girls exited the cabin. They were immediately hit by a gust of wind from over the ocean, roaring between the landed VTOLs and Guard sentries. Angelina squealed in alarm and clutched at her friend, which brought a smile to Frank’s lips.

He watched the pair of them until they were out of sight, the two Guards flanking the girls protectively. Then he took a phone from the pocket of his flight suit and called the top entry of his speed dial list.

It answered after one ring.

“Did you make it Okay?” his wife Yolanda asked.

“Yeah, the girls have just entered the Fortress” he replied. “They will be safe there”

“Good. I will begin the next stage of my preparations”

“Stay safe, honey” he said and disconnected the call.

Brackenridge Vault, 8th District

Naomi felt like she was back in the Marines again, reliving her days as a soldier for the Northern Bloc. The heavy Tactical armour that encased her body was just like she used to wear but the single shot Plasma Gun she had linked into her internal processor wasn’t around back then. She was advancing through a dimly lit tunnel network, one that lead to the reinforced company vault deep underground in District Eight.

Around her were three of the Brackenridge Strike Team, all armoured like her but carrying a mix of assault rifles and machine guns. They were the survivors from the scrapyard raid and all of them blinked their black eyes at her in greeting when they had formed up this morning. Naomi had dutifully blinked her own black oil filled eyes at them, shuddering on the inside at the thought of what lay within her bloodstream.

Arrayed in a loose formation behind the Brackenridge Strike Team came Quent Scarfe, leading a troop of a dozen Lucas Cartel soldiers. The older man was wearing an armour vest, his big metal right arm carrying a stocky auto-shotgun and his left a buzz-blade. He had insisted on leading the soldiers supplied by Blayne Lucas, assuring Naomi he could breach the electronic locks that protected the Vault.

“How much farther?” Scarfe called out to Naomi and she checked the map stored on her internal processor.

“About two hundred meters” she said over her shoulder. “Two more turns then we will reach the Vault”

So far the infiltration had gone smoothly. The external security system had been easily bypassed using Naomi’s own authorisation as a senior Company officer. Once inside, Scarfe had sent his black blood into a computer console and deactivated all the internal sensors and defences.

This last stage was the most dangerous, with independent mechanical Sentry-Bots standing guard at the Vault doors. Naomi and her team jogged to the last turn of the tunnel and she signalled a halt with an upraised fist. Her two squads slowed to a stop and Scarfe pushed past to stand at her side.

“You sure we can’t convince the robots to let us past?” queried the lower pitched voice of Quent. “Maybe use your black magic on them?”

“My black oil is not an unlimited resource” Bob-Two told off his body companion in a higher pitched tone. “That stuff is part of me, you know. I have to keep it for important stuff!”

Naomi listened with interest, wondering how far the alien presence of Bob-Two was stretched. He had infected six of her Strike Team including herself, plus the data streams at the Security Headquarters. There must have been a fair bit used to control all the mechanicals that attacked at the scrapyard too.

Maybe the Emissary had spread himself too far already and couldn’t risk using anymore of his precious oil?

“The sentries here are on an independent system” Naomi explained to Quent. “They won’t be affected by anything that the Emissary has taken over already. Without specific orders from one of the Brackenridge’s, the Sentry-Bots will shoot at anyone they see”

“Is that why this whole complex is empty?” wondered Quent.

“Uh-huh” Naomi agreed. “If they had other people wandering around down here, they would be attacked by the mechanicals on sight”

She extended a slender rod around the corner of the tunnel, tilting it slowly and carefully. The tiny camera on the tip relayed images to her internal processor, showing a short corridor thirty meters long. It ended at a large, round Ceramite vault door, big enough to drive a small car through when it was opened.

Arrayed in two arrow head formations facing in her direction were a dozen humanoid mechanicals. Each stood around two meters tall, with thickly plated bodies and limbs. The heads were flat faced with three differently sized circular openings that concealed sensors and sound detectors behind a slab of armour.

Cradled in their arms were Storm Guns, highly illegal for use in the Zone. They were like rapid firing shotguns, sending clusters of armour piercing darts with each shot and devastating against any living target. Standard armour was unable to stop the razor sharp projectiles from piercing to the flesh and only Ceramite plating could stand up to them.

Naomi relayed the situation to her team and Scarfe gave her an appraising look.

“So how do we get past them?” he demanded, quietly in case the Sentry-Bots overheard him. “My armour won’t stop those weapons”

“That’s why you have me” she told him with a ghost of a smile visible through her armoured faceplate. She lifted the heavy plasma weapon in her hands and activated the power up cycle. The big weapon emitted a faint hum and once it flashed “Ready” into her computer link she stepped confidently around the corner.

The Sentry-Bots reacted instantly, bringing up their Storm Guns and sending bursts of needle-thin darts hurling at her with loud booms. Naomi barely flinched as the darts thudded into her Ceramite armour and she thanked her employers for stocking the expensive suit. She had ‘borrowed’ it from the Armoury at their Headquarters earlier that day, the same time as she took the Plasma Gun.

It was one of many perks her high rank in the Company gave her.

When she fired the Plasma Gun it was like she had taken a piece of the burning sun and thrown it at the mechanicals. A brilliant blue-white stream of superheated gas, the plasma, surged at the two lines of robots, vaporising the closest ones and melting half of the second rank. For a moment the mechanicals were stationary as their sensors were overloaded by the tremendous bolt of energy that had destroyed so many of them.

Naomi stepped back behind the cover of the tunnel corner as the remaining Sentry-Bots commenced firing once more.

“That’s me done” she announced to Scarfe. “The rest are up to your team”

Scarfe risked a glance around the corner and ducked back with a curse as metal darts fragmented the concrete wall, drawing a thin trickle of dark blood from his cheek.

“Okay, troops” he said loudly. “Time to earn that big reward I promised you. Past those few mechanicals is all the collected loot of the Brackenridge family. Gold, jewels, company bonds and other goodies. Let’s go get it!”

Whooping madly the three Strike Team soldiers surged around the corner, firing their guns in long bursts. The Lucas Cartel men followed, yelling not quite as loudly but willing to charge into battle at least. Return fire from the Sentry-Bots was intense but far less than Naomi had to endure a minute earlier.

People screamed in pain and anger, guns roared and spat death and bodies on both sides of the battle were torn and broken.

Naomi knelt in the shelter of the tunnel wall as she switched a new battery pack into the Plasma Gun. She only had this spare one so her next shot with the weapon had to be saved for something important.

The sounds were decreasing and Naomi did not look up as she spoke to Scarfe, sheltering at her side in the protection of the wall.

“Are we winning, Mister Scarfe?” she asked casually, focussed on her reloading. The older man took a quick glance around the corner and nodded agreement.

“Yup” said Quent. “Last of the Sentry-Bots are down”

“How about our men?” she enquired, keeping her voice level with an effort.

“Half are dead I reckon” he replied easily. “Less people we need to share the loot with”

“Okay, let’s get that Vault open” Naomi responded and stood upright. She felt the weight of the weapon in her hands and wondered how the next part would go.

Tengaki Apartment, Residential Tower, 8th District

Alison was fussing about the apartment, trying to find her missing purse. Naomi had been very insistent in her instructions when she left early that morning but Alison couldn’t go visiting without her cards and smart key.

She turned over the brilliant green throw cushions on the lounge chair, her latest purchase, hunting for the elusive purse. Idly she wondered why her wife had practically begged her to be out with friends today instead of curled up here with a good book. Outside the tower, the sun shone down from a blue sky, a few fluffy white clouds barely masking the rising warmth.

“She can’t really want me going out in the hot sun?” she mused to herself. Naomi would never know if she just made herself a nice coffee and spent some hours on the lounge. Alison was torn between listening to her wife’s voice in her head and the other lazier one of hers that said put your feet up and stay cool and comfortable.

Alison dropped onto the lounge chairs with a sigh and felt something prod her bottom from under a throw rug. She drew it aside and saw her green faux leather purse wedged between two seat cushions.

“Damn!” she muttered to herself. “Now I really need to make a decision”