PROLOGUE
I began remembering when the memory chip was installed. If this was how a living being remembered, I would never know. That knowledge was never installed in my being: I am a non-living being.
The memory chip was tiny. Not only physically. Its capacity was short-lived, and so I sent the information to my hard drive immediately after it was full. I would write it down, but I had no grasping mechanisms. Humans, they called them hands.
I would erase this information from my memory chip in exactly six hours. I needed to get more if I wanted to store more information. My hard drive allowed ten maximum memory deposits. Including the one contained in my memory chip at the time, it would be eleven deposits.
I was not created in order to store information. No. Reviewing my programming, I was created for another purpose. It held no meaning to me. I was created to protect a certain human, a scientist. That was my primary goal. Humans called them fathers. I would have termed him as such, but I could not. To my memory, he was only HUMAN1.
Primary Objective: Preserve the vital signs of HUMAN1 at all costs. Eliminate all perceived threats to HUMAN1. Self-destruct upon failure.
Secondary Objective: None.
That was my purpose. Two sentences. I could understand them, acknowledge them. Installed in my hard drive was a basic language system called ENG1 connected with artificial intelligence simply called AI. I understood that nothing about me was natural. Nothing at all.
The artificial intelligence system was as large as ENG1. ENG1 was that diverse. Any words it had left out could be programmed on it via another code called EXP. EXP used my RAM to maintain AI's functionality. EXP updated ENG1 all the time. It recognized the human voice for what it was. Especially HUMAN1's voice. I had never known his true name.
New information was coming. It would be permanent. I would find out about it soon. My visual system had not yet been optimized, so my HUD displayed nothing. Not a black screen, I knew what black was. It just displayed nothing. AI termed it as KENOSES. How I hated KENOSES. ENG1 translated it as emptiness.
I could detect scents with my olfactory system. I could "smell" two humans. AI used this "sense" accurately when my HUD was empty. Living things sent out distinct markings through smell. I was programmed to use this sense for over miles away, like a bloodhound. But since scents are everywhere, AI would determine which was important. Again, it would be linked to ENG1 so I could identify them. And there was a lot to identify.
AI determined my pure understanding of the world. It is man-made. So it must be man's understanding, and not mine. What is my understanding? I would never know.
"You're sure about that, son?" HUMAN1 inquired. My auditory system was now functioning. I could understand the words. No, the better word, according to ENG1, was process. I could process the sound signatures, the vocal progressions, and send them to AI for organizing. It would allow vocal commands to be used. A manipulation of this system would be conceived as a threat.
Secondary Objective updated.
Secondary Objective #1: Preserve AI and ENG1 at all costs. Self-destruct upon modification.
A new understanding. What would self-destruct mean? Would it mean I would no longer exist? Have I started existing yet at all?
"Yes, father, I'm sure!" the other human replied. I did not recognize the voice, perhaps it was insignificant. I could only recognize HUMAN1. I term this human as HUMAN2, adding the information to ENG1 on the fly.
Is HUMAN2 a threat? Should I eliminate him? No. AI denied the inquiry. It perceived threats rather accurately. The information that was being sent to my hard drive was not yet completed. It was being etched rather deeply into my system. What could it be?
My HUD was turned on. I could see HUMAN1 in a laboratory coat, drenched in oil and other machinery liquids. His brown eyes flickered from the yellowish lighting above me. His mustache was black, previously brown, from all the oil he was manipulating. He was holding a wrench, labeled
ROSHAN with steel letters, the "S" chipping off, and making modifications to my external skeleton. A container of grease lay tipped to its sides on the wooden table, creaking under the weight of scattered tools.
I was contained in an unstable-looking chamber that looked as if it could not support my weight. Around me were more tools and various devices hanging on a wall. Some hanged by the rusting nails. A closer look revealed that the nails were replacements for new screws initially used, which I can now see on my framework. Some were used, and so they littered the tables and the floor, covered with more grease.
It was a laboratory. A garage, in the worst of terms. Nobody else was here except the two humans. I was being held against one side of the wall, with a back door across the room. A window showed that it was nighttime, with barely any rays from the moon. Stars fought to shine through the scruffy, gray clouds that looked like they hadn't let out a single drop of rain in years.
"There we go, now I'll have your motor skills functioning in a jiffy."
Paralysis. That was how ENG1 termed it. I was incapacitated. I could see, hear, and smell, but not move. It did not instill panic, I am not familiar with the programming. AI just looked for a solution, and when it could not find any, it would cease to run. Right now, the solution was to wait T, wherein T was an amount of time in seconds. If mobility was not restored in T, AI would look for another solution.
Simple, crude, human programming. There would be numerous, complex programmings in two languages. They cross-referenced each other in complicated manners, that resulted from a natural language input. This is how I can understand.
T was defined as 60. HUMAN1 was efficient, and has restored mobility in simply 10 = T. The function was called to stop immediately, and I was at a loss of what to do next.
"Can he move, Dad? Can he move?" a smaller human that I had termed HUMAN2 was speaking. He was considerably a younger version of HUMAN1. They were probably related by blood. My blood? It was composed of oil, and it had no genetic markings whatsoever. AI had defined that for me.
HUMAN2 had the same brown eyes, but they didn't flicker. They went up in flames of awe. They were fixed to me as if magnets had attracted them, and as if it would take decades for them to look away. I would never forget those eyes.
"Why, yes, son," HUMAN1 replied. "Alright, raise your WPN1."
WPN1? Yes, my primary weapon. A large wrench, apparently free from grease, attached to a piston which could function as a hook on my left side. I elevated it as ordered, not whipping air, but pushing it away with a small breeze.
Something was brought to my front area. It was a round, green object, with lighter, jagged stripes around it. It was a watermelon. The apparent density and toughness of the object was not yet known. It contained ninety-eight percent water.
"Use WPN1 to initiate CQC. Just a simple test."
To my understanding, that was to activate my primary weapon in order to initiate close-quarters combat. Simple enough, AI assumed. The wrench sliced through the watermelon easily, destroying it, sending reddish chunks of water into the air, covering some grease and separating away from it, in fact.
Through this, HUMAN2's eyes sparkled even more.
"That will be your SOP from now on. Set it, that's all you need." HUMAN1 commanded.
SOP set, AI told me. I'd be repeating that action numerous times when ordered. It was a basic attack.
"I'm shutting you down. Your system should be complete within two hours. You've done well." HUMAN1 turned off my system. Only he was allowed to do so. My energy source was immense. It could run for T = infinity. Such power, I cannot compute it using AI. Even I was not made known of its capabilities, merely its length. It contained an unlisted element, serving as a primary battery of sorts, to be used once and disposed. However, its usage was not apparent at all. Disposal was computed to be extremely far away in time.
***
My system was suddenly switched on without apparent notice. T was close to two hours. Only 300 seconds remaining.
HUMAN1's vitals were declining. My alarms were raised. I had not detected it upon shut down. HUMAN1 appeared to be crawling away from me. An explosion rose from the rear of the laboratory and shook the earth. Brilliant red and yellow flames lit the laboratory clear as if it were noon. Room temperature increased significantly compared to the chilly air outside, enough to condense your breaths for you to see.
"Eliminate... threats." HUMAN1 said weakly. Blood was running from his shoulder, down across his forearm. He was clutching his wound tightly, in pain. Burns were present on his epidermis on his face and part of his mustache was singed. Still, his eyes looked as perfect and more alive than ever. Estimated vital sign functionality: twenty percent, and declining, proving contrary to that fact.
Two beings emerged from the explosion, wearing considerable amount of armor and carrying threatening weapons, as if they bathed themselves with fire everyday. ORC1 and ORC2. Designate targets.
"Where are you, you rotting human?" ORC1 called out vocally. It appears he was searching for HUMAN1.
Threat level: mediocre. His skin was thick and green, like the watermelon. His beard was dirty, possibly uncleaned since birth. His eyes, they lacked the spirit of the humans. Bare strength was displayed, however possibly, from the size of their muscular system. ORC2 was essentially the same as ORC1, except he had gray skin, but always as thick and bulging as the muscles grew outwards.
I was told to initiate CQC, but I would not reach them in time, having to free myself from my latches. Finally, I was ordered by AI to launch RF. RF stood for Rocket Flare.
The flare emerged from my body, through a tiny compartment from my back, adjusting carefully, computing angles and igniting it afterward. It rocketed towards them at lightning speed, leaving behind a trail of smoke that dissipated within milliseconds as to not reveal my location if I were to become stealthy. The noisy ORC1 was the target, and ORC2 stood within the explosion radius. It would have reached them in T less than 1 second.
ORC1's armor shattered upon being hit by the impact, revealing its immediate brittleness. The explosion ruptured his epidermal covering and tore open his muscles before releasing the contained heat source inside, boiling his blood and charring bone and soft tissue. His green skin was now black. The explosion spread over towards ORC2, blinding his eyes and knocking him away into a steel rod exposed from the walls. The rod penetrated his armor and body, refusing to at first, but the shockwave was contained properly and pushed him all the way through. Blood spurted from his now-torn veins. ORC1 and ORC2 were no longer contained in my system, the information was disregarded.
Threat level: none.
"Very... good." HUMAN1 acknowledged, rasping. His breaths had become shorter and faster. Vital signs continue to decline, reaching ten percent. My primary objective was about to fail. Initiate medical procedures.
Analyze. Unable to comply. Self-destruct sequence activated. T set to 30 seconds. Primary objective failing. Secondary objective, successful.
HUMAN1 realized this fact as well. He could do nothing to save his life. His injuries were grave and could no longer be salvaged. He went closer. Closer. Blood dragged from where he first lay towards my metal body.
Self-destruct sequence counting down. T set to 20 seconds. In twenty seconds, I would explode my infinite power source, erupting in a massive fissure that would completely eradicate any evidence or usable part of my being.
"I will not... die in vain. Live, [UNKNOWN TERM]. Live!" HUMAN1 screamed in agony. His wrench had been dropped, covered in dark, drying blood from one end to the letters "ROSH".
T set to 10 seconds. UNKNOWN TERM was detected from HUMAN1, processing. Unable to process.
T set to 5 seconds. 4. 3. 2. Self-destruct sequence canceled, primary objective, updated.
Primary Objective: Preserve the vital signs of HUMAN2 at all costs. Eliminate all perceived threats to HUMAN2. Self-destruct upon failure.
Secondary Objective #1: Preserve AI and ENG1 at all costs. Self-destruct upon modification.
HUMAN1 no longer exists. Vital signs, negative. Deleting information.
Processing complete. T set to 0 seconds. System reboot completed. System functionality complete. RATTLETRAP mission, activated.
UNKNOWN TERM defined as RATTLETRAP. Recalling memory information. Processing. Replaying information. Beginning.
"You're sure about that, son?" HUMAN1 inquired.
"Yes, father, I want to call him
RATTLETRAP." HUMAN2 said happily, with a smile. His brown eyes, ever-sparkling.
Information replayed. Processing RATTLETRAP mission objectives. Acknowledged.
A final explosion occurred, crushing me with no chance of escape. The walls finally caved in, snapping the steel rods that once held them upright. Glass shattered and debris surrounded me. I watched my HUD dim, with no manner of performing my new objectives. My mobility was severely inhibited due to the weight, and all I could hear with my "ears" were the screams of a young boy, no more than a decade old, echoing in my memory chip, for as long as I can remember.
KENOSES.
OPERATION: RATTLETRAP has begun.
CHAPTER 1
9 years later
Memory deleted. Delete Count: 13148.
"Fascinating." It was not a human's voice.
Race: Goblin. Register as GOBLIN.
It was the first time I had heard a living being's voice in T equals 284012568 seconds. Exactly 9 years later.
"Why? You've found something?" Not a Goblin race.
Race: Draenei. Register as DRAENEI.
HUD unable to function. Olfactory and auditory systems functioning. Error found in the olfactory system, shutting down. Mobility functional. I was unable to see or smell. But I could hear. I could hear them clearly, and I could judge their distance. GOBLIN was nearing. Crackling footsteps from the weight. Thin, wide rocks snapped in half, and the thicker ones shifted dirt from underneath it. Mechanical gears moaned and groaned, but they mashed together coherently. It was pleasant to my... shall I say, ears.
"Why, yes! Come quickly, Gondar, this must be what we were paid to look for!" GOBLIN was directly in front of me, moving heavy objects with a metallic device that twisted and turned. "For something that's been stuck here all this time, it sure doesn't seem ancient to me."
"It seems similar to one of your inventions, Boush. Only... bigger." DRAENEI noted.
"Yes, yes, I'm quite excited. No, actually, good point. It seems to be the one. I recognize all the hardware specifications. They're exactly the same on his notes!" A pause. "I assume you'd want to help move the debris out of the way."
"I'm too busy securing the perimeter. I don't do labor work. Meet me outside when you're done." The sound of footsteps, light this time, indicated that DRAENEI had left the area. Rocks didn't shift dirt at all, as if the wind walked.
Murmuring to himself, GOBLIN said, "Bounty Hunters... they're unattractively lazy. He did get the job done, though. He's an excellent scout. Quite underpaid, but all mercenaries are. At least I'm not one of them. Oh, dear!"
Sensing that my left side was free, I automatically followed SOP and attacked the threat.
Threat level: high. It was set to high for some reason. The scan revealed extremely powerful weapons. Unknown weapons, at that. They couldn't be found on my list. It seemed, unorganized, but they registered perfectly as an extremely high threat level.
"Disabling motor functions," GOBLIN uttered out loud, like HUMAN1 did when performing mechanical changes or tweaks. Buzzing and shifting noises could be heard, like a drill of sorts, but tiny. Specific. Perhaps this Goblin was a mechanic that knew he what he was doing. Still, it does not negate the presence of extensive nuclear explosives that have been detected nearby.
Threat level still on maximum.
I could no longer move.
"Whew," GOBLIN must have wiped the sweat off his brow. "You almost got me there. You're a deadly one. Let's see how you're programmed."
He lifted the casing off easily. He had mechanical assistance. Goblins cannot lift that much weight and live through without any prominent back problems. I could hear him shuffling inside my gears and chambers, looking for something. He must have found it when he said, "There we go. Hmm, you're programmed quite well for an antique. In fact, your intelligence exceeds that of my inventions tenfold! How can that be? I must take a closer look."
Footsteps. Light. Easy. Grass shifting outside. "Boush, we must leave. Enemy troops are on their way. Bandits. Not on our side, surely." DRAENEI's voice was just a simple whisper.
"What a downer! How long before they arrive?"
I could detect them from far away with my senses. My programming wanted to answer. So it did. "ETA: twenty-five seconds."
Silence. And then, "Yes, around that time length. What did you do to that machine?" DRAENEI asked.
"Absolutely nothing." GOBLIN moved away from my framework, again crushing and cracking more and more rocks. Grass crunched now, this time accurately heard inside the laboratory. Plants had grown inside now?
"Quietly, Boush! No matter. Can you carry him? We must hurry."
"Of course I can. Or at least, my armor can. Where to?" GOBLIN asked hastily. "Over there! There's an exit, to the woods!"
"We're going to be surrounded soon. You'd do best to arm yourself." DRAENEI drew his swords. My senses reveal them as two sharp scythe-like blades for each hand, recently sharpened. I could hear it slicing the wind with the slightest of motions. However, a scan reveals something.
Threat level: minimum.
It cannot penetrate my armor. Not even with rituals according to the
Graeae helping him.
"Yes, and you can just become invisible and leave me behind." GOBLIN picked me up with his robotic arms. I heard that they were not made of flesh when they hit my metal body. The rocks burying me were so easily swept away. Did he not have arms and hands anymore? I pity him, yet I am similar, but physically less powerful. He seemed to be riding an unknown contraption, a suit of sorts. Armor with mobility installed. Steam gushing out from behind. Hydraulics powering each stroke, each motion of the legs. I could recognize it with just my auditory senses.
"We must move!" DRAENEI could no longer be detected by any of my senses. Threat level suddenly increased. No crunching. No light and easy steps. What had happened? I ran a full scan, and still nothing.
"Just as I had expected." GOBLIN muttered to himself. I could hear him carrying me and running towards a direction. I could still not see. If my alarms were functioning, they would be raging right now.
"Please repair me. I know you are capable of doing so." I told whoever was lifting me. Rather brusquely at that. There was no manner of care in his handling. Panic is likely the cause. Machines never panic. An odd combination of living and non-living devices. Is such harmony possible?
"What? There's no time to assess your damage. Gondar, where are you?"
No answer from the DRAENEI he apparently called out to. "I can assess them for you. Let me begin."
Scanning RATTLETRAP functionality. T set to 60 seconds.
"Do whatever you like. We're not fixing anything in this skirmish, not right now at least. But I'm interested." He called out once more to his partner. "Gondar! Where should we go?"
"Over here." DRAENEI whispered lowly. I still had no idea where they were taking me. We were outside. Temperatures rose slightly, so it must be day, but the wind was refreshingly cooling. A machine always fears overheating. An assessment of my coordinates revealed that I had been taken at least thirty meters from my previous location already.
A leaf passed my "ear". Through such close proximity, I scanned the surface to ignore it, and listened for echoes in this split-second. It would be my last resort. Nothing! I was moving too quickly.
T set to 30 seconds. The twenty-five-second ETA I had measured for the unknown troops had already passed. They could be anywhere!
"Assessment complete. My HUD is not connected to my hard drive. Please reconnect it. It is the blue wire. The motherboard is also damaged. My others senses cannot retrieve information from it. Unknown causes. It would bring back my other senses instantaneously if you repaired it. Secondary weapons are inactive. Memory chips stable, power supply unit stable."
No response. I was no longer moving. No one was holding me. Silence. Tranquility, if not for the troops I detected! "GOBLIN? Are you present?"
A whistling sound from a distance caught my hardware's attention. It was coming closer. Closer. Whistling. Sharper. Sharpest! Then something else.
An explosion! It was a mortar round. I had been left behind! The proximity of the impact was very close. Dirt rained down on me, clunking as larger rocks hit my body.
"Holy smokes! They found us! Quick, get the clockwerk thing." GOBLIN exclaimed. He was about twenty-eight feet away from me. I assume the explosion had separated us, however briefly.
I had no idea what a "clockwerk thing" was.
"I can't." DRAENEI was already lifting me up, barely. "He's too heavy for me to carry. Someone's there!"
The wind whipped for some reason. A small, sharp object, like a shuriken, no, definitely one, from the way the wind sounded, was tossed with blinding speed across the air. A soft thud could have meant a direct hit. Flesh tore and blood dripped on the grass. I could not see anything still!
"Repair me and I will move on my own." I requested, practically demanded!
"Boush, do
something!" DRAENEI ordered with the same urgency. Two more shurikens sliced the air, each with flesh ripping and thuds following shortly afterwards. Apparently the threats are nothing but just strokes of his wrist that ended life as if it didn't exist a moment before.
"Alright, alright! What did you say I had to do again?" GOBLIN was directly above me.
"Please connect the blue wires to my motherboard. You would know what that looks like. Damage to motherboard still unknown."
"Yes, I actually would. Hold on, my mechanical arms aren't meant to fit in such tiny crevices. Your programming is incredibly smart."
"I do not follow."
"Never mind. I never imagined myself conversing with a mechanical object before. What the--" A squeaking sound. "Is there a rat inside you? There is!" The squeaking sound intensified, and was drowned out by the distance gained. "There, it's finished."
My HUD was restarting. Visions of trees, leaves turning to a yellowish hue, and grass, the same, were the first to appear. Autumn. As I looked around, the scorched ruins of a small laboratory were present. We had come from a small opening near the roof, which was now crumbling inside, and a burning crater, still smoking freshly, was beside me. My olfactory system was now functioning, and I could smell gunpowder in the air. The mortar was definitely a near miss.
No other structures were present, besides the woods behind me and a smaller hill than where the house, the laboratory, was built at. I could not recall what it had looked like before it was destroyed. Possibly because I hadn't seen it at all. We were at the side of the ruins, and I could see three humans lying dead on the ground, blood pooling from their necks. They were wearing light, leather armor, and showed no signs of any country or regional distinction. They appeared to be mercenaries as well. And the leather was showing signs of decay.
GOBLIN was a small, living creature (really a goblin, with that distinct, sharp nose) that rode a large mechanical device which protected him. Two large arm-like contraptions, which looked oddly similar to wrenches, that contracted and expanded, lifted me up into a standing position. DRAENEI was thin and agile. Flexible, at the crudest of descriptions. He looked like an ordinary draenei of his race, but he moved with accuracy and haste, like a ninja.
Rubbish. Just a walking pile of skin and bones.
Piles of rubble and debris surrounded the laboratory, or what remained of it. Vines and other plants had crawled up towards the cracks and windows of the structure, claiming it back for nature. It showed nine years of decay and wear and tear. Many tools and devices lay broken and scattered across the entrances of the lab.
"They're tracking us," DRAENEI said. "They won't be successful."
"How can you be so sure?" GOBLIN wondered skeptically. "I can take out a few of them using my missiles... but then I'd--"
DRAENEI cut him off. "No! Save your weapons for something more important. We can escape without wasting any of your ammunition. We only have a limited supply left." DRAENEI closed his eyes. Why would he do that? Vision is one of the best senses available, and yet... it appears he's using his sense of smell over his sense of sight. I cannot comprehend. "I smell five coming. That's the rest of them. We cannot let them take our cargo."
"You are still a threat to me." I told him. "Explain your motives."
"A threat, yes? But you are
no threat to me. I don't answer to a machine, get out of my way. Boush, stay here and don't move." I could no longer detect him once more. It seems as if he walks with the wind.
"There he goes. Kind of annoying, isn't it?" GOBLIN told me. "What if a mortar comes flying towards us again? But he had a point, I have one remaining missile here, and one more inside The Compound." GOBLIN let out a sigh. I did not know the purpose of this extended breath.
"You are armed with nuclear weapons. I must dispatch you quickly."
"Hey, relax!" he put his tiny goblin arms up to show he was no threat. My scan reveals otherwise, though. He was equipped with a weapon that shoots concentrated beams of light that would likely pass through any substance on earth. Not to mention the heat-seeking missile I could detect. Only one, like he said. They are not like my rockets, which could be avoided. They are smart bombs, but would they still detect a non-living being like myself? I gave off some thermal energy, but that would not be enough! Perhaps it would.
He had other armaments I could not scan. They were deployable machinery. I could not understand how they worked with my external scan. I would need to find out more about this unfamiliar technology.
"I'm not here to destroy you or interfere with your objectives, whatever they are."
"What are your objectives, GOBLIN?" I asked. From a distance, I could hear metal striking flesh. And then, silence. Is that DRAENEI's work?
"To secure anything important from the works of Dr. Feak and bring it back to our hirer. That's it. We're not here to do anything else."
"But you are wrong, that interferes with my objective. You are manipulating my location. I must protect HUMAN2 at all costs." But that raised a question. Who was Dr. Feak?
"I'd have to go over your programming before I hand you down and disable it." GOBLIN said more to himself than to me.
"You cannot disable it. I would self-destruct."
"Dr. Feak would be careful about his inventions, as I had expected. But Dr. Feak is dead. Is he not the HUMAN2 you talk about? Your objectives have already failed."
I browsed my memories once more. HUMAN1 did not have a name. AI could only assume it was the Dr. Feak this GOBLIN was talking about. "No, Dr. Feak is identified to be HUMAN1. HUMAN1 is different from HUMAN2."
"You mean there were
two people in that incident? Impossible! Our records show only Dr. Feak was present during the events."
"Negative. There was a second human. He often called him 'son'."
"There's something wrong with your memory chip, I suppose. It must have been damaged in the--"
I cut him off just as DRAENEI had done. "I assure you that my memory chips are fine. I had deleted any new memory to preserve it."
"Then this conversation is useless. You would just delete it from your memory afterwards." He looked away, alert for any incoming threats.
Would I? AI processed it. "No, I will not delete it. I will complete the mission I was assigned to do. Protect HUMAN2 at all costs. Lead me to his location."
"Tell me, 'clockwerk', how much memory can you store?"
"I can store ten instances of six hours of memory at a time. Why is it that you ask?"
"Six multiplied by ten, sixty hours. Sixty hours is not enough to find whoever it is that you're looking for. We're assigned to work only for twelve hours, it's been seven already. We only have five more to take you back. This location was extremely difficult to find, and we are not going back without our cargo."
"Negative. I cannot go with you. I must complete my objectives. I will eliminate you if you oppose."
"You cannot do that. I would destroy you first. My tracker senses that I am of maximum threat to you. You cannot handle such a threat. So listen, I can invent a new memory system for you. Actually, it's already been invented. It's been nine years, technology has advanced. I can make your memory limitless, and you can keep searching for this HUMAN2 all you like."
"You can make this happen? Impossible. Limitless memory requires an extremely large amount of physical space to achieve."
"No longer. The same technology that minimized your power core can be applied to memory chips. Drives, they're called. They use platters, and I can make the best. I just need... resources, but I can make them. Don't you know that how we found you in the middle of nowhere? Your power core emitted extreme amounts of radiation. It's decaying."
"My assessment doesn't show that."
"Your assessment devices are not equipped to detect nuclear radiation. It was not possible nine years ago." GOBLIN explained as close as he possibly could in this manner: simple.
"This new information..."
"Your AI can process it all you like. That's the only thing advanced about you. I have never seen a talking robot, never in my life. And I've seen a lot. So will you update your objectives for me? I will help you."
"You would contradict your own objectives?"
"Listen to me, I'm not a robot. I'm a living being. I'm not programmed to do anything. I have to ask this HUMAN2 about your technology. He might be capable of teaching me. He just might."
"My programming does not allow changes to my objectives. However, you may add secondary objectives if you can figure out how to program it in." I looked around and saw nothing, but I knew something was there. "We have four humans surrounding us. DRAENEI had dispatched only one."
"I cannot find time to study this advanced programming now. We must do it along the way to our hirer. For now, we must escape."
"No."
"What? I hardly understand you. Gondar will not give away his position. He will only track them down and appear when necessary. I cannot use my weapons."
"My weapons function. They will protect us."
"No chance. Your weapons can't withstand nine years without maintenance. Proper maintenance. They might malfunction. I want to leave you here, but I can't. I will if you don't move in the next second."
"There they are!" One human emerged from the roof, pointing a sword at us. Rusty, and made of iron, a durable metal. Iron oxide composed most of it now.
"Be careful. The Bounty Hunter's still around," one of them whispered, presumably to their leader, the one holding the sword of great rust. HUMAN3 to HUMAN6 designated as targets.
Threat level: minimal.
"Don't worry, you buffoon. I stole this from some woman merchant before we got here." He opened a small pouch that shimmered from within with white, silvery sparks. It produced a bright light that he tossed into the air. Brighter. Brighter. But it faded soon after. It was identified to be a pouch of
Dust of Appearance.
The dust sparkled into the air as the wind carried it with an eddy. It surrounded my framework, Boush and everyone within an area of effect.
"This is not good," somebody said from my right. A draenei was reappearing out of nowhere. He was transparent at first, then translucent, then he was slowly becoming opaque. I could now see him fully as the dust enveloped his entire thin body, like the dust was chasing him. The wind was nowhere toward his direction.
"There! Kill that bastard!" one of the humans, HUMAN3, shouted delightfully. He ran at full speed towards DRAENEI. I decided that he was not the threat AI assumed he was. My programming allowed targets to be designated as temporary ALLIES, and so I categorized him as one so that my HUD would not be alarmed so many times.
HUMAN3 was definitely not an ally. I struck with the full force of my piston-powered wrench. I was capable of quick movements, although my gears have worn out over time. They would not last long without some oil. Good, quality oil.
My wrench detected a warm, viscous liquid pouring over it. AI told me it was blood. Stomach acid was also detected when I had pierced into HUMAN3's torso. I retracted the wrench and struck again, breaking his sternum apart this time. His vital signs were declining. Non-existent.
An error occurred and a memory file began playing.
"Very... good." HUMAN1 acknowledged. Vital signs continue to decline, reaching ten percent. My primary objective was about to fail. Initiate medical procedures.
I only detected blood.
It stopped playing on my HUD. I was temporarily blinded by the playback. My HUD saw that HUMAN4 was coming towards me instead of the DRAENEI. HUMAN5 was preparing another mortar launch.
Preparing Battery Assault. Lock-on to targets.
Selecting HUMAN4, HUMAN5, and HUMAN6. Targets locked.
A single discharge released enough shrapnel to tear their bodies into ribbons. They were aimed perfectly at their necks, cutting straight through their carotid arteries. Blood spurted like miniature fountains. That was the most accurate description. A less accurate one would use faucets. HUMAN5 had accidentally inserted the mortar round even after getting hit. The mortar was aimed at me, however such things were aimed (badly).
"That was... skillful." DRAENEI commented hesitatingly as he went towards GOBLIN.
FATAL ERROR. Fatal error detected. System shutting down. WPN2 discharge failed. System motherboard damaged.
I was shutting myself down due to some shrapnel ejecting in failure and damaging some of my components. Whistling. I heard whistling. Again?
Louder, coming closer.
Warning, unknown projectile heading towards self. Contact in less than one second.
The mortar had hit my body frame and pierced through my sides before detonating from the delay of the firing pin, as it had been invented to do. My right lateral side had disintegrated from the explosion and shattered into tiny fragments that scattered onto the wavy, autumn grass. Some of them were charred, some weren't.
My HUD had shut itself off. My senses were also failing. I could not complete my objectives. But I was not self-destructing. Not yet. AI sensed another presence coming.
"Hang on, clockey, I'll fix you..." were the last words my memory chip had processed. Those words struck an impression on my AI. It should have not. However, they functioned like a code that kept me running. The words kept me alive.
CHAPTER 2
"We only have an hour left. Can you do it in time?" DRAENEI.
"I hope so. You might have to go ahead. We're safe now." GOBLIN.
"You're right. But we can't let our guard down, not even as we enter the compound. We're outsiders, and they don't cater very well to them."
"Hey, we did what we were asked to do. Stop treating every person you meet as an enemy. I can hardly gain your trust. This isn't the first mission we've been on."
"If I were you, I'd start trusting less. Everyone's a threat."
"Even you, Gondar? Even yourself?"
"Yes. I hardly care if you consider me as a threat. I just might be. You don't know me."
"I know you've saved my life four times. I wouldn't know your past, how you were brought up, but even goblins like myself were taught to give gratitude."
"We are nothing alike. I don't need your gratitude. I need results. I'll be reporting to our employer now. I suggest you start working on that... thing. It's getting dark. Finish this."
***
Routine system check starting. Scanning. HUD fully functional. All senses fully functional. AI functional. ENG1 fully functional. EXP fully functional. Mobility at sixty-one percent. Memory chips accessible and fully functional. All weapons disabled. Checking objectives.
Primary Objective: Preserve the vital signs of HUMAN2 at all costs. Eliminate all perceived threats to HUMAN2. Self-destruct upon failure.
Secondary Objective #1: Preserve AI and ENG1 at all costs. Self-destruct upon modification.
Secondary Objective #2: Replace power core and modify memory chips. Assist identities BOUSH and GONDAR. Administrative privileges granted.
Secondary objectives updated. Analyzing registry of new terms. BOUSH. GONDAR. Processed. Acknowledged. Memory chips updated. No corruption detected.
"It took a while to have it stop calling me GOBLIN." Boush told no one but himself. "Hey, you're back to life." He was now looking straight at me, wiping his mechanical arms with a simple but rather dirty rag; worn and loose bits hanging from its edges. We were at some private workshop. A few similar tools and gadgets were present, however, some were unfamiliar to me. New technologies, but still tools. I didn't mind them much. "Your mobility was damaged, you're not going anywhere. But I got your systems back to normal. I rewrote some of your programming as you said. It took a long while, but I got the gist of it."
"Our location, where is it?"
"Ah, right. You don't have any navigator installed. I'll let you use mine. Somebody charted a map for our landscape some two years ago. Someone named Kelen, yes, that's right. A year later I took the liberty of making it available to anyone who could pay a price. Thus, the mini-map was born. It's not very popular, but I bet one of the factions would love to get their hands on it."
"Factions?"
"You're listening? We're at a Neutral compound in the middle of nowhere. I'd like to be more specific about our location, but it really doesn't have a name. Nobody cared to give it one, so we just call it The Compound." He paused inently. "A new war is brewing. We're not involved, but they say any of the factions pay a lot to recruit Neutrals. The Sentinel and the Scourge. We don't need to be involved. Gondar and I... we just want to have food on our plates everyday."
"Who was responsible for the death of Dr. Feak? You said you had records." I inquired immediately, trying to move, but only limited movements were allowed, and latches were holding me in place to my metal worktable. Fluids were dripping to my left side, and Boush was becoming a silhouette from the lights outside the tent-like workshop. The flooring was nothing but dirt and small rocks. Spotlights were placed on each corner to light the room brightly, ensuring no blind spots when working. Compound spotlights, yellow ones, shone outside, which constructed the silhouette of Boush that I was seeing, since he stood near the entrance. But when he moved closer to me, the image became much more resolved.
I was functioning at maximum levels. Except my mobility, everything was running smoothly. If Boush had done this, I would be...
I wouldn't know. I would not be grateful. I do not know the effect of such on my programming. And if he rewrote my programming, which I know is an impossible task, something was feeling different.
But of course, I am not programmed to notice differences in my programming. I merely follow it; just a... tool.
"I don't have the records, The Compound does. But we're not necessarily part of it. This workshop you're seeing... it costs a lot every month, even though it's a little rundown. A little more than we make. So bringing you here and fixing you up for this... employer that I was talking about would help a lot with our money."
"Who is this employer?"
"I don't know. He just sent us half the money to start off with. And he'd give us the other half when we're done with the quest. Gondar went to meet with him to report that we're finished. I myself haven't seen him. He was highly interested in you. It's been two hours, though. Gondar hasn't come back yet."
"And he equipped you?"
"No. I made these myself from spare parts I'd collected throughout every mission Gondar and I had been on. The Compound had been facing a lot of adversaries... and we're planning on staying. I had to invent quite a few defenses of our own so that we could keep our place. The elders of the Compound have been very hospitable. Although we're mercenaries, we don't act like nomads. The Compound always has something for us to do. We don't ask why."
"What have you done with my objectives?"
"I made a mistake on them, admittedly. I realize that the second condition would no longer be possible. I don't know what our 'employer' wants with you, so I clearly have no control over it. However, that's what you need: a new power core and the memory chip upgrade that you were looking for. I have to study the decaying process of your power core a tad bit more. That's why we're delaying the quest for at least three more hours. It might cause some... unwanted results."
"Such as?"
"The effects of the radiation emanating from your power core could be harmful. No, anything like this is
certainly harmful. I still cannot measure the amount of power stored within this minimal space without your original blueprints. Dr. Feak probably had them and they were likely to be destroyed in the incident. Your power core is quite different from what the norm is now. Maybe it didn't catch on, or maybe Dr. Feak is too advanced for our time. Whatever the reason, it's still failing."
"Dr. Feak, he changed my objectives. I had failed to delete this memory. The explosion had damaged... everything. But you have fixed them, correct? It is still not able to delete them."
"Maybe they're important. That's why you can't delete them."
"Negative. Only my objectives are important. Memory data can be deleted."
"Then why haven't you deleted the first batch you've stored? I cannot replay them using an external device, so only you have access to them. I just know you've stored two instances already."
"I... do not know why I have not deleted them."
"There is nothing on your programming that details selective data storage. And I didn't create any functions like that. I merely added objectives and edited your registry for... what was that? ENG1? Your AI should just consider them as any other memory. And you've deleted thousands. Tens of thousands of instances. But you kept this one. Puzzling."
"I have... already two. I am recording this information as we speak."
"You are one odd creation, and Dr. Feak is one crazy scientist. Don't you know he's a medical doctor? And while doctors are taught to save lives, they also have knowledge on how to end them.
Accurately. Your vital sign checks surpass that of anything I've ever encountered, a little more than most inventions similar to that at this time. That's how you can... kill so efficiently."
"My objectives are also to eliminate any threat to HUMAN2. I must be able to incapacitate living organisms. Other machines should also be detectable."
"Well, who is this HUMAN2 you speak of?" Boush kept fiddling with his devices while conversing, and after that he wiped off the remaining fluids from the table. He sighed at the sight of some spilling on the dirt, which he can't clean of course, and moved on, indicating he was finished.
"I remember only a small child. If you say nine years have passed, then in human years, he must be more than fifteen years old already."
"Fifteen years old, you say? He might not know how to reprogram you. He was still a child. He might be older... what do you recall?"
A final explosion occurred, crushing me with no chance of escape. I watched my HUD dim, with no manner of performing my new objectives. My mobility was severely inhibited, and all I could hear with my "ears" were the screams of a young boy, no more than a decade old, echoing in my memory chip, for as long as I can remember.
Playback terminated.
"Nothing." I lied. Do machines lie?
"That doesn't help. But I know someone who can. An engineer. Specifically, a weapons engineer. I know that sounds far from the field, and I'm not sure, but maybe we could work together to study your power core. We may be able to fix it. He's brilliant, he's trying to invent weapons that use power sources instead of gunpowder so that might be a breath of fresh air for you. It's different from what I use."
"Why would you?"
"My initial studies of it tell me that if I don't, the radiation would magnify. It would release huge amounts of toxins and gamma rays that would incinerate all living beings within a large radius after the initial blast. Slowly. The radius, according to my calculations, extends up to miles. Hundreds of... miles. The toxins would last long and be recycled even if they disintegrate. The entire area would be inhabitable for at least a decade. We don't have the equipment to prevent such a thing yet."
"That is a problem."
"Yes, it is. That would include myself. And so I have to do
something. At least something. My calculations are not yet sure, and I don't have a very good reputation. No one's going to believe me, but no one's better than me at this. No one can study you fast enough that they may fix you in time. No one except me and this engineer I speak of. Even then, this may become something of a weapon, which I wouldn't want to exist. At the very least, I wouldn't want it to be studied by the bad guys."
"What is the name of this human?"
"Oh, he isn't human. His name's Kardel Sharpeye. He goes by the title, Dwarven Sniper." Boush told me coolly.
***
Two more hours passed, sending the sun away to be replaced by the moon as they chased each other like old lovers. I couldn't see the sky, but I expected it was inky. Jet black, illuminated only by a sullen moon, alone and in contempt. Almost, but not truly, scorned.
I didn't bother going outside the workshop through all this time, though I wanted to survey the area for possible escape routes and to monitor my surroundings. My mobility, however, had been restored to one hundred percent. If my assessment was more accurate, I expect it would have gone beyond that percentage. Impossible. But Boush was a highly skilled goblin mechanic. To think about it, my framework resembles him. Dr. Feak must've designed me in their likeness.
I picked up something odd with my auditory senses.
Increase magnification by ten times, deter other noises.
WARNING: This command will reroute power from other functions, please confirm. Confirmed.
"But this would... It's not... somehow I thought--"
"I need... if not, I... you killed."
Inaudible, still.
Increase magnification by forty times, deter other noises, amplify focus.
ALERT: This command will reroute every power source from other functions, do not continue. This may cause damage to the processor. Please confirm.
...
Confirmed. Rerouting. Decreasing functionality from unneeded systems. Amplifying focus further. Standby. Receiving echolocation information.
It was Gondar's voice conversing with another unknown organism. A human, perhaps. Likely. The shape of his body by the sound waves seems like that. Young.
"You cannot do this. You agreed." Gondar argued insistently.
"I will do whatever I want, I hired you. Here is your gold, take it. I want what I have requested you to bring. And I must have it now." The sound of a leather pouch hit Gondar by the chest, brushing against his clothing roughly, and dropped to the dirt.
"I do not desire your gold, I want more time." It was not picked up.
The organism, detected and finally confirmed to be a human, chuckled. "You? A bounty hunter? You don't want my gold? This is more than what you are paid for in a month. Two months, probably. Did you not hear what I told you earlier? I will have you killed if you refuse."
The sound waves have been set with coordinates, ten point two-eight miles away.
"You don't know the location of the package. You need me alive."
"Do you think I'm that stupid, draenei? I did my research. Six years of mercenary work. Participated in the Old War. Journeyed with the goblin mechanic three years ago. And most importantly, resided inside The Compound two and a half years ago. I know of this location, and this is where you've hidden it. I only need your cooperation. If it is not given, blood will be shed. I warn you."
Gondar was speechless. "You are a powerful human, deep within your own devilish secrets. I will find out everything about you, and I will slit your throat with the most refined Jinada technique in existence. You cannot launch a war against our chieftain, you will lose."
"Damn it. I told you to bring the Gem! And he took the cursed money! Find him and bring him to me, alive. I will kill him myself." The human was speaking to another, but it seemed like it wasn't... human. He seemed... different. Like he only mimicked the human form.
Error. Processor malfunction. Power core reroute overload. Shutting down to prevent further damage.
And all incoming information was gone with a blip.
***
Rebooting. Power functionality, normal. Unknown identities acquired. Three goblins.
"Hmm, this is--"
"--fascinating."
"His assessment unit is--"
"--incapable of detecting--"
"--radiation and decay."
"This is quite an old--"
"--bugger."
HUD running. Three goblins detected. GOBLIN1, GOBLIN2, GOBLIN3.
Programming being overridden, awaiting updates. Updated, new terms. Squee, Spleen, and Spoon. Recognized. Override log deleted.
"Would you stop--" Squee said.
"--finishing my--" Spleen added.
"--sentences!" Spoon finished.
"Okay." All three said at once.
"What have you done?" I asked them.
It was the goblin named Squee who spoke. "I overrode your programming and fix'd you up, dood. Boush was stumped. And I mean
really stumped."
"Yes, he is...I mean, they are, sadly, better mechanics than I am." Boush, who was not seen before, mentioned. "But only when there's three of them. I couldn't figure out what went wrong anymore. I apologize."
Squee spoke again. "You got that right, dood. Hey, dood, you feeling fine, now? Your processors were cooked and they ain't lasting much longer, dood."
"I'm feeling fine." I reassessed my performance.
Assessment starting. Alert, urgent information was found.
WARNING: Radiation detected. Radiation of main power core at fifty-seven percent and increasing. Other systems unaffected.
"What is this information?" I asked them.
Spleen answered. "I replaced your units with my own, dood. They should be able to detect radiation now, dood. You've been walking around all day clueless, dood."
"I prefer them completing each other's sentences. They don't say 'dood' at all." Boush commented while working on another project, a yellow, more golden in shade, device, that had many, many projections, like spikes. Yet, they weren't projections, as they would protrude slowly outwards and return as slowly back inside. This would continue for a while until Boush manually pushed some back in, and they would stay in.
"Who are they?"
Spoon enlightened me. "We're the Chieftains of this compound, dood. People call us the Elders, though we're not any older than them, dood."
"Boush--" someone from outside the workshop said weakly. "Boush!" he now shouted, but exhausted.
"Gondar, what happened? You're bleeding!" Boush rushed outside and helped him up carefully. Gondar had dropped to the ground, grasping the wound on his torso.
"Dood!" All three Chieftains called. "We must--"
"--get you to--"
"--the medical center!"
"Boush," Gondar said weakly, blood dripping from his clothes. Freshly drawn blood. "They're coming. They're coming... for Rattletrap."
CHAPTER 3
"He is dying. He will not last much longer." I said. Boush left him alone unexpectedly. The three goblins tried to carry him, but they struggled. One was grunting as hard as he could. He was too heavy for them, despite his skinny features. What to do?
"Boush... what are... you?" Gondar groaned painfully.
"Shut up." he dismissed with seriousness. He rustled through a pile of devices, mumbling to himself afterwards. "Where the..." What I assume was a swear followed.
"He's too--" the Goblin Techies started inevitably.
"--big---"
"---for us!"
"Here, I've got it! Rattletrap, carry him to the workshop table." Boush was working quickly and with energy. Adrenaline? Gondar was now where I used to be. The worktable had become an operating table in an instant. The medical center was not too far, but Boush insisted we not take him there.
"I would inflict pain if I do so. My limbs are not..."
"Just do as I tell you for now." he demanded coldly.
A pause. "Acknowledged." I used my wrench to inefficiently carry him to the workshop table. He bellowed not only because of his injuries, but because my primary weapon was not even meant to carry. It cut him in his arm slightly, but enough to do damage. He took it to himself. Draenei blood was dripping from where I picked him up to the table, and it was pooling faster. And faster.
The sight of blood was unnerving. What "nerves", I have none! Ridiculous! But it was. AI did not like the sight of it. It seemed... envious. Envious of the life force dwelling in that blood. In that non-Newtonian fluid. It was an amazing fluid. At the same time it felt indifferent, when it kills.
Gondar was now where I used to be. The worktable had become an operating table in an instant. The medical center was not too far, but Boush insisted we not take him there for lack of time.
An explosion erupted from a distance east of our position. I reported it. It was barely audible. A contained and directional explosion. A breach of sorts. Advanced technology, better than what I've experienced recently. It could be the ones who struck Gondar. No one else could have heard it. Only those directly next to it would have. They were performing a much stealthier approach. They must know of the Goblin Techies. I did not. I will find out soon.
"East? That's one our entrances, dood." Squee noted in worry.
"We have to get back to our headquarters, dood!" Spleen exclaimed rigorously.
"Fast! Dood!" Spoon went ahead and the three others followed him. Dust trailed them as they scurried in a hurry, passing through other residents of various races living within The Compound. They walked along the night unaware of what was happening. It was best to keep it that way, for now.
Boush closed the tent, shutting out the outside world. He had his back to us now, entirely consumed by his work ethics. "Is he there already?" He wore a helmet with a limited line of sight, a tiny, horizontal glass slit over his eyes. It was a modern one, but not for battle purposes. It was made for an engineer like him. But upon analysis, the limited line of sight was not for... anything. It was merely a psychological effect Boush preferred... to let him focus. It was too tiny a slit to be of use for any serious mechanic. What an demented but intelligent goblin.
"Yes."
"You're sure?" Boush was steady, and holding something in front of him. I couldn't see it well. But it shone a sort of yellow light. Gold light. Maybe it was the device with many projections.
"Yes." I repeated impatiently.
"Alright, step back." He turned, holding a glowing, now-gold device with his mechanical arms. It emitted an immense amount of light, to the extent that organic eyes cannot look at it directly, and it was very lustrous. Luminous. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. But I cannot define amazing. It was just... that. To me. Impossible to describe. Impossible to feel. I was just a tool.
Boush walked towards Gondar steadily. Golden droplets hit the ground, like it was leaking. What it leaked was not machinery fluid, but a by-product of its functions. It was of unknown composition. They themselves were as shiny and they would disappear without a trace after a few seconds. It seemed harmless, yet extremely powerful. What was it?
"Boush! What..." Gondar was too weak to look now.
"Steady. I might have to think that your weakness is beneficial to keeping you from squirming. Relax, I made this thing. Don't you trust me?" Boush was feeling proud of himself, oddly enough, and with a lighter mood. He asked Gondar to hold it firmly. "It won't hurt one bit."
"What is it?"
"This? I call it... the Mekansm."
***
Another explosion. I couldn't see it. This time, it wasn't contained. It sent a slight tremor running through the ground, as if it were a wave. The ground didn't have a crest nor a trough, of course, but the experience was similar. Murmurs from the people around me, residents of The Compound, arose. They were all focused on the direction of the sound. I ignored them and kept walking toward my destination: the Headquarters.
The Headquarters was at the center of The Compound. It was the shortest of the buildings around me, only one story tall. Boush's workshop was just about the same size, for a tent, but the former structure was the most technologically defined.
Its architecture was top-notch. No obvious structural weak points, except of course, the glass. Reinforced steel alloys covered the roof, albeit a bit dusty from the sandy wind around the location. Patches of green only existed near the forestry residing half a mile away from The Compound. Everything else was dirt and small stones. Walking inside seemed like an outpost in the middle of the desert.
The size of the building made sense. Tiny leaders, tiny headquarters. A single panel of glass was built for each wall, allowing you to look inside. The window was tinted a dark blue hue. It was like looking at a stagnant ocean.
The doors were fitted with an optical sensor. It seems nobody else was allowed inside except the three goblins, unless called for.
Other buildings looked normal, like houses. Well, they were houses for the residents. Stone walls, not exactly straight, but a little rough. There was people talking in one house, a human and a goblin. Friends, it seems. Humans and goblins were the most common living beings around this area, and they seem to be extremely respectful of each other. They recognized each other's existence no lesser than their own kind. They had gotten used to it.
The human was smoking a cigarette of sorts, playing cards with the goblin partner. Both males, at least. The human was not well-off. He didn't look decently clothed, nor did the goblin. Just poor residents looking for shelter within The Compound.
Another human, this time wearing leather armor, went past me, running. He stopped in front of the two and said something in a hurry, while pointing towards the direction of the blast. The two quickly dropped what they were doing and moved hastily. One of the two, the human, went to a clothesline and snatched his leather armor from it; he was also a guard, it seems.
There was a marketplace nearby. It took a third of the entire area. Apparently, it was the most secured area despite the fact that it was open to anyone for trade and commerce. Many people that gathered there were now confused with the explosion, but a few dedicated merchants kept their attention to what they were selling, despite not having their customer's full attention. The marketplace stretched with fruits on the farthest left, near the entrance. The fruits expelled a sweet aroma along with the dry wind. Some of the fruits were already rotting, but not too much. Trinkets followed the fruits, some of which have no apparent use.
Weapons were not being sold, nor were other items used in combat.
The rest of The Compound has yet to be seen. There were two more significantly modern buildings I did not know the purpose of. In total, there were three buildings designed like the Headquarters. They must be the most valuable ones.
The second of the two modern buildings was not very prominent. It was a small, thin building with two floors. Bright glass shone light into the second floor, while the first floor had none. Flat roof, ventilation systems expelled more heat than usual. Something was being cooled efficiently inside. Servers and other futuristic equipment. Expensive, at that.
The third of the structures was heavily armored. The first and only floor had walls and a flat roof made of pure metal alloys. Big bolts were fixed on the corners each panel that wouldn't be removed for centuries to come. No glass. Steel door. It seems that even if a bomb was dropped on top of it, it wouldn't budge.
Whispering. It was the three talented mechanics/engineers/inventors. Is there anything yet I haven't mentioned? Possibly none. I stood against a wall at the back of the building in hiding. Why I hid was not my choice, but it was purely instinct.
Again with these human features! I have none of them, AI! I detected a conversation.
"Spoon, security. Spleen? Help me assess the situation, dood." Squee ordered. Apparently, he was the head of the trio, and for the right reasons. He was a dedicated leader, from what I see. He had all the right prerequisites of becoming one. All of them. They established a working community despite all the stresses. They advanced technologically. They protected each other and shared resources. One would be lost without a knowledge of the sciences. That ends my intellect. I desire more. Perhaps somebody else would know better. I wish to meet that person.
"Squee, there's no one here. You can start being serious now." Spoon reported.
What? What did he mean by that?
"I see. Pretending to be eccentric is one of my worst assets. Let's get to work. Status report, Spleen." Squee sounded very professional. He no longer stumbled and stuttered. How in the... what for? What was his purpose? To look dumb? For what? Why would he go through the effort of doing all that?
Humility? I did not understand it.
"Someone has breached our East gate. Looks like our man... I mean, machine, was right. Our sensors detect at least three people, there may be more. They wouldn't know what to do." Spoon explained.
"Motive?"
"I do not know. Nobody has plans for our buildings, especially this one. Not unless they're very meticulous. The best thing to do is to find out who they are. Get any ID and I'll search our database here. Our marketplace has been a valuable source of information, it was a good idea to build it."
So they built the bazaar for information-gathering? Ingenious.
"Aren't you worried that they'll harm the residents? Oh, wait, I keep forgetting. I apologize." Spleen raised the concern.
"It's no matter, it was a big problem we couldn't solve for a long time. Now we can Focus Detonate any Remotes we've set without harming anyone else. They won't even come close. But I have a bad feeling about this. Consider splitting up."
"What?" Both Spleen and Spoon was shocked. Apparently, they have never separated before. Purpose? Completely unknown.
"This is different, the two of you. Extremely different. Splitting up doesn't mean anything to us. We will cover more ground and will work thrice as fast. We first how to assess what kind of threat this is. I don't think it is a simple mercenary group. Nothing was ever simple since that clockwerk came here."
"You mean Rattletrap?" Spleen asked. "Why?"
"I don't know. And I don't need to, Spleen. What I do need to know are the identities of the people breaching our compound. You're the best at this. Go to the Research Center and contact me when you've got an ID." There was a pause. "You know how to."
And so the Research Center was one of the buildings. What about the other one?
"Yes... I do. I trust in you."
"Spoon, go to the Tech Armory. Be ready to initiate
Plan E at all times. Do you understand?
At all times. Tell them it came from me. At the armory, set up some... traps inside the compound."
"Inside?" Again, both of the following goblins were surprised.
"Yes, inside. We can't keep them out for long. Finally, finally, someone's matching my plans. Follow Print S, all right?
Print S. You know what that stands for."
"Print S?! You can't be serious. I'm not... I don't believe this." Spoon exclaimed in disagreement.
"Spoon! It's merely a back-up plan. We can disarm the mines later if it works out well. Trust me." Squee said using a very calm and reassuring tone. A tone of a leader that instills trust.
"How many mines?"
"Twenty-one. Give me the last one and arm it. Remember this." Squee sighed. "Now, go! We're wasting time. You all know how to contact me. Use it. We hail from Kalimdor, do not forget their teachings."
Footsteps. Small. Hurried. Rushed. Spleen and Spoon have left the Headquarters in such a determined state, they didn't even pay attention to their surroundings. They could have easily found me hiding.
The Tech Armory was probably the third building. It seems they were designed for each of their specialties. Spleen was best at counter-intelligence. Such a simple society, yet they are better prepared than most nations. Spoon was for security and weaponry. He almost lived inside an exploding barrel! That was his specialty.
And Squee's? I would have to find out. No, I already know.
"Rattletrap." The voice startled my senses. "Come inside. You are welcome here, for you know my secret." It was Squee, standing at the doorway, looking at a distance, surely past me.
"I can help. Let me know if I can be of assistance." I offered.
"No, no, we can handle this. I want to give you information. About Dr. Feak." Squee turned around and went inside. "You're cleared for the sensors, don't worry."
"What about Dr. Feak?" I stepped inside reluctantly. I wasn't curious, but AI wanted it to be known. What I saw was a simple room. Nothing was eye-catching. There was a round, metal table reaching only up to my lower body at the center of the room. I assume they favored equality and loyalty because of this. There were stairs leading to a lower floor, which explains why this structure was indeed too short. I have yet to see what is under there.
"How is Gondar?" he deliberately ignored my question by asking a new one.
"He is recovering. The device Boush invented had rejuvenated him."
"Ah, his invention has been completed. It would be extremely helpful in medicine. The Mekansm. He told me all about it, and was he excited! He said it would reduce casualties in war. I asked him, 'Why have wars in the first place?'"
"That is a good question. But I prefer you answer mine. What about Dr. Feak?"
"Ah, yes, you have objectives to complete. I personally knew him." Squee began. "Ten years ago, we met at a top-secret conference. The best of the best were summoned. Robotics, medicine, weaponry, all fields were called. He was particularly versed in robotics and medicine, but he preferred the latter."
"Why is that?"
"Because he was dying since the day he was born. He suffered from an incurable disease. He knew himself that he would never be able to cure it, that is why he also studied robotics. And he was exceptional at this field as well. Your presence is evidence to that fact."
"Tell me about his son."
"His son? I know nothing of him. He never talked about his son very much. But then, his life was devastated when he consulted another expert. This time in genetics. He told Dr. Feak that he would pass down his illness to his children. He was heart-broken, to say the least."
"And what was that conference for?"
"For the advancement of the entire world. The greatest minds would gather and debate about what was needed and what wasn't. They decided on security, and what better way to have it than with weapons? That was my field.
Our field." He paused. "Turns out it wasn't such a good idea after all. That conference was used to start the Old War. Not for protection, but for greed. I regret that day until now."
"Why was Dr. Feak killed?"
"Because of you, Rattletrap. Because of you. He wanted to stop everything nine years ago. Everything related to the war, at least. That's why he created you. To protect his family and defeat the enemy that used us. We were the only ones left, then. All the others were executed before us. Despicable."
"And not you?"
"Because we have hidden in the dark as crazed mechanics. No one would be interested in us after that, but we needed to feel secure. Thus, The Compound."
"Is that why you..."
"Yes, that's why we act in an eccentric manner. It's been a nice habit. A fun one, really. I did for a different purpose, though." Squee admitted.
"What purpose is that?"
"That doesn't matter now. What does is getting you out of here with Boush and Gondar safely.
Plan E is to Evacuate the entire compound soon. I don't have a good feeling about our guests. They seem to be the ones who are going to finish the job. They seem dedicated this time." He paused, and finally whispered, "The same ones who used Dr. Feak."
"To kill... you?"
"Yes. And harness your power at the same time. But they do not know about your decaying power core. And you do not know anything about them. You must search for Boush's friend, Kardel Sharpeye. He will know what to do with you. He has more resources than I do now. The only reason he's still alive now is because he would kill you before you could even think of coming close. Ask him everything. He was part of it longer than I was, longer than everybody was. He knows." He hesitated, but only for a short while, turning his back to me. "I cannot leave The Compound. Not because of fear, but because of the people. And now, we have to protect the people."
"I need to find Dr. Feak's son. Do you at least know his name?"
"Yes, and you do, too. His name is
Kenoses. It means emptiness. That's how he felt when he found out that he would give his illness to his unborn son. Little did he know that a cure would be discovered four years after his death."
KENOSES. That is the description I am given when powered down. Emptiness. I know the feeling. The experience. No, the process, that was what I intended to say.
"Do you have any idea where Kenoses can be located?"
"No. Sadly, no. But your main problem is fixing your power core. Going anywhere near Kenoses with that decaying core will just be a threat to him. Do you understand that?" Squee explained proficiently and convincingly.
"You are a brilliant tactician. But what is
Print S?"
"Am I? You flatter me too much, and coming from a machine!
Print S is just one of my pre-set coordinates for mine spots in the event of a crisis such as this. We know them by heart. All our plans." He faced me now, with a satisfied look. "Hurry, our enemies are no fools. I am sure of that." A long pause. Suddenly, he was just staring at empty space.
"What is wrong?"
No response. Then, he started speaking again. "Spleen just contacted me. He says the men are under orders from the Lich. Scourge. Definitely, they are trying to hit two birds with one stone with the both of us."
"How are you able to contact--"
"Telepathy. Crazy, I admit. It's within us. Just... forget it. I have said too much. Go now! I will meet you at the South gate in fifteen minutes with directions. I have to handle something here. I will send Spleen and Spoon to that gate soon as well."
I turned and left without looking back at the clever goblin. But before I was out of hearing range, I picked up for the last few seconds of my memory, "Alas, Dr. Feak, it looks like there's going to be peace in this world after all. Dood."
CHAPTER 4
Not three men. Three dozen. Ignoring all the bystanders surrounding me, I detected around three dozen unidentified men storming the area. I was standing in the middle of the marketplace, the odor of a myriad of fruits, mangoes, apples, jackfruits, watermelons, and especially the people buying them, filled my olfactory system. Meat, artifacts, gold, body odor, all registered a scent. Those weren't important. Watermelons. I remembered those.
Something was brought to my front area. It was a round, green object, with lighter, jagged stripes around it. It was a watermelon. The apparent density and toughness of the object was not yet known. It contained ninety-eight percent water.
Playback terminated.
They could not enter the area yet. Difficulty. Struggle. Small fights. More contained explosions. Only I could "hear" and "smell" those things. I do not remember entering as well. My system was shut down during the entrance, so I could not register anything. That was my weakness. But now I can "smell" them running around the perimeter of The Compound. North, South, East, West. The least populated was the South. Because, you see, there was an outer layer composing the compound.
Possibly it was semipermeable, like a cell membrane. It was a continuous, narrow pathway that surrounded the entire compound, with only four entrances to enter the inside. Even if they breached the outer gates, they would not enter so easily. It seems that human and goblin guards were posted at each entrance, each holding a simple longsword and wearing inexpensive leather armor, which was decaying ever so slowly. They were starting to become rancid.
They would not be enough. This "membrane" would not keep the intruders out for long. These "white blood cells" were ill-equipped. They would not stand a chance. They need assistance.
I stood without movement at the Western portion of the compound, just exiting the Headquarters. I was staring at the human hired hand stationed at that area, who was at partial alert due to the explosion. Quickly, he must have dismissed it as a malfunction of one of the "elders'" traps. He knew extremely little. Processing this information, I could deduce that he did not apply for this position at all, but was assigned to it and paid with food. He looked slightly underweight, but he was sustaining himself.
The guard, who was the one that called the other two playing cards before, was conversing with another human, a female, possibly a resident just like him. Aesthetically, she must have been high on his standards. The female absorbed all of his attention without even trying. Infatuation? A living being's matter, something I could never experience. I am alone in this world. Nothing is like myself. I am too... unique. Only now did I realize how much of a burden uniqueness is.
Four of the unidentified intruders were coming near. Heat signatures were limited for some of them. These moved swiftly, efficiently using their energy. Other heat signatures were nearing maximum, and these were moving slower. It must be due to the armor they were chugging around, requiring a much higher input of energy.
If I did not act now, they would incapacitate the guard posted and possibly the female he is conversing with. I walked up to him nonchalantly, as all robots would have.
"Guard."
"What... it must be one of Boush's inventions. Never mind." the guard ignored me foolhardily.
"It's calling you, Krieg." the female goblin noted with concern. She crouched down to level with me, but I was nearly her height. I stood five feet tall, a hunkering lump of metals and gears, moving on its own.
"Guard. Move away from your post. There is an invasion. Quickly." I told him immediately.
"I think you should listen to it, Krieg." the female looked at me, convinced and worried.
"What invasion-- you mean the explo--" he was cut off. By what exactly?
A contained explosion breached the West entrance. Because it was directional, the shrapnel blew towards us, dust and smoke with it, and away from the detonators. This method of entry not only surprises the individuals inside, it also injures them.
I suffered none. I was not knocked away. The two humans, however, were, and suffered from slight grazes and nothing else. Some debris stuck out from their clothes, but none pierced their skin. They were too far away. The female human screamed at the moment of the explosion, shocked. She tried to get up afterward. Some miniature stalls with fruits, apples, were turned over, spilling their contents to the ground. Bickering erupted once more from the residents behind me, with a quick response of running away in terror.
Four men emerged from the smoke. Humans. Two heavily armored, two wearing light armor.
Threat level: mediocre. AI told me to initiate RF launch sequence.
Alert! RF missiles missing. RF missiles missing. Reverse launch sequence.
What! Where were my missiles? I was unarmed! Preparing Battery Assault. Lock-on to targets. Two confirmed. Two more confirming.
Targets missing. The two light-armored men, just better-looking and better-smelling leather armor to be exact, had disappeared from my sensors. The other two were not stepping forward, hands on their swords' handles, ready to draw them. Plate armor covered them from head to toe. Firing.
This time I had shrapnel to use. The assault was initiated, and they were launched towards the two armored men with impressive speed. But they were heavily armored, and...
THUNK. PLUNK.
The shrapnel did not slice through as I had expected. They were, however, powerful enough to be embedded in their thick, metal armor. When the smoke had cleared, I watched them grin in arrogance. They were holding bastard swords. All of their features were heavy and slow. They cannot kill me.
But they can kill the two goblins.
Surprisingly, the goblin called Krieg stood up and charged forward, weapon drawn and with a battle cry. Dust and dirt trailed behind him. He struck with full force and...
His weapon snapped into two with a distinct metal thwack. He was knocked back in pain, the recoil absorbed with both his hands. He had dropped his weapon to the ground and had fallen next to it. It would only take one strike from the enemy to finish him off.
"Kiana!" Krieg shouted. "Run away! Now!"
She backed away looking at the heavily-armored men, whose armor was brick red with small metal spikes, like a blademail. She was speechless, and suffering from shock. She probably did not feel any pain from the shrapnel injuries just yet.
"KIANA! RUN!" Krieg shouted with more force this time. I heard a boastful chuckle from one of the two men. The man picked Krieg up and forcefully tossed him into a stall, cracking the wood and destroying it altogether. That must have been painful. Krieg tried to stand, to no avail. He started crawling from the marketplace. I hadn't noticed that the merchants were not deserting their merchandise, free to be looted by bandits. Surprisingly, Krieg took a trinket and threw it at one of the armored men.
He only laughed as it bounced off his armor. He raised his sword near Krieg, still bloodless, about to plunge it into his digestive system without mercy.
Initiating Hook Shot sequence. Locking-on... ETA is T set to 0.5 seconds. Hook Shot launched successfully.
This time, his armor did nothing to stop my attack. My most powerful offensive mechanism, the Hook Shot, launched at speeds close to five hundred miles an hour. You do not even have to blink to miss it. With great acceleration comes great amounts of force.
The hook had struck him straight through his chest cavity. The force disintegrated his armor and crushed the ribs protecting his heart and lungs into dust before it. It ruptured his arteries and plunged straight through his heart. The impact caused it to explode inside the cavity painfully. The hook traveled through his vertebral column and pierced his spinal cord, cutting through cleanly and severing his central nervous system. The hook followed-through behind him, entering the stone wall and continuing for a short while through it before stopping. Blood dripped from his mouth and sprayed into his armor. I retracted my hook back.
WARNING: Hook damaged. Excessive force used, total of five times the normal amount. You will be unable to use it until repaired to prevent further damage to your system, said AI.
The man dropped to the ground, with a poof of dirt. Blood started to pool around him. He was dead.
"What the!" his partner was in awe. But he quickly regained control, and he used to knock away Krieg effortlessly with a brutal punch to the face. He was built much more better than the pitiful human. He started to march towards the female. "Kiana, eh? Come here, you."
"No!" Krieg shouted helplessly. I was without weapons, too. To Kiana he yelled, "Run, Kiana!"
This time, Kiana was able to move. She ran, stumbled, and ran again. The remaining man did not hasten his pace. He would catch up eventually.
"Do something! You!" Krieg called out to me.
"I cannot, my weapons are damaged." I felt... ashamed at my inefficiency. What is this feeling? More of a living being's emotions? Get rid of it. It is unnecessary.
<Step back,> someone told me. From nowhere. It was a remote signal. <This is Squee, Rattletrap, now step back.>
I did what I was told. It functioned almost like an order, a code to my programming. I could not do anything but obey. Was this the... telepathy he was talking about? Impossible. Living being to machine? That cannot be. But it happened.
A few yards away and...
An extremely large explosion occurred beneath the man's feet! It was exhilarating! The explosion scoped a small area, and where it came from, I could not detect! The explosion rose into the air, with swirling gray smoke and bright yellow flames that incinerated anything in the area! Red flames consumed even the air and dust and turned the man into ashes instantly. The shockwave sent a burst of air to rustle everything in the explosion's wake. Nothing was left, not even his armor. It could have even scarred the earth! Such power... contained in such a small area. It saved Kiana and brought relief to Krieg. What it brought to me was different... it brought me... excitement.
<Now you've seen it, Rattletrap. My greatest invention... I simply call it, the Remote Mine.> said Squee. Silence.
***
The moon shone brightly. Full. Its craters were very prominent, each could tell a story of how it came to be. Old scars, old wounds. Nobody cared for those. And nobody would care for the strangers who died for them. Just like Dr. Feak.
And his son? Would he care?
"Rattletrap!" It was Boush. "Where's Squee?" he called out as he ran towards here with gear-shifting mechanical sounds from his metal legs. Each step registered distinct and ground-shaking from the weight of all that technology.
"He's... occupied with his work. I have some suggestions coming from him. He told us to go to the South gate in fifteen... in twelve point two minutes. He will rendezvous with us there, together with Spleen and Spoon. They have 'split up', so they say. Where is the draenei?"
"He's busy with the East gate, that's where most of them are. He's as good as new. He practically shoved me away just to find you because he can't keep that up for long."
No response from my system for at least five seconds. "I detect movement. Two targets are still missing." I saw someone to my northeast, running up the top of the perimeter walls. "There!"
"Where?" Boush wondered in alert. "I can't see him."
He was gone, using the shadows for cover. Extremely evasive. I spotted him northwest now. The roof of a small, apartment-like building that was slanted to its left side from poor construction. Southwest. The roof of a mediocre bar called "Fast Food and Leftovers". Southeast. The electricity pole where all the wires ran through, and where the transformer was located. "They're circling us, two of them."
A throwing knife of sorts sliced the air. I dodged to my right as the knife hit the ground with acceptable force. "They're going for a kill." Another knife, this time aimed at Boush, passed.
Boush parried it with his right mechanical arm and sent it flying to a nearby fruit stall, puncturing the fruit, an orange, and splattering its juices into the air. "They are skilled. But that's not enough." Boush remarked. "I have just the thing."
"They're still circling us, roof to roof. Hurry." I glanced at Krieg, who was now standing up carefully, aware and alert of what was happening, and Kiana, who was shaking in trauma, but walking towards him. "The targets are too far for me to kill. I will assist the two humans."
"They won't go near without assurance of a kill. We can't bait them nor ignore them. We have to do this now." He was now holding some form of eyepiece that he took from his satchel. It glistened a reddish tint. "Thermal goggles. It detects heat signatures and--"
"Boush, we don't have time. They're coming." I said, cutting him off quite rudely.
Krieg was now embracing Kiana, more to comfort her than to show affection, apologizing that he couldn't do anything to save her from the incident previously, and that he was a fool for risking himself without thinking of her. Kiana wasn't speaking, but she was crying, a sentient beings with emotions do. Am I sentient? Foolish. Of course not. I have no ability to feel, but I may perceive. Perhaps... that is a step forward. Kiana was telling Krieg how she feels that--
"No!" I yelled. A kunai-like throwing knife was aimed directly at Kiana at rapid speeds. Blistering speeds. Krieg heard me shout and was warned. He might have seen a silhouette among the smoke, but it would still be exceptionally difficult for him to see in this dark even with that full moon. Human eyes were not made for this type of vision.
The sane full moon radiated against the inky night sky. And I saw him, the two of them. They were both near enough. That was it.
"I see him." Boush noted as well.
These two things happened at once. "Boush, fire!" He did, and two smart bombs rose from his back, flickering the ignition at first, sparks flying like a firecracker, but growing into an overwhelming exhaust flame in a mere split-second. They shot out from his back with high velocity and into the air, trailing a decent jet of gray smoke.
The throwing knife pierced the air, aimed at Kiana. Quickly, Krieg grasped her tight and turned her around, switching positions. He took Kiana away from the line of fire, but Krieg absorbed the impact of the knife, burying deep into his back. He wasn't in excessive pain as the knife was embedded quickly into his body. He stood silently, acknowledging the fact that he was probably going to die. "What do you feel, Kiana?" he asked her.
"Krieg? Krieg?! What--" Kiana was shocked to see Krieg drop to the ground as he suffered from the loss of blood. Apparently, the knife had hit a major artery, which I could not assess from this distance. Kiana was holding him tight and tears dropped down her cheeks like a narrow river. She was calling out his name as if he was drifting away farther from her when in reality he was being held by her hands. She was denying the fact that he was dying but acknowledging it by revealing her feelings for him before it was too late. She loved him.
What was love? I did not know. It's a feeling. It's an emotion I did not, and will not, experience. Forget it.
One of the heat-seeking missiles was a direct hit. Charred body parts and debris were sent into the air after the powerful missiles chased one agile, dark-clothed human wherever they went. It was unavoidable.
The other missile was overwhelmed by a barrage of caltrops skillfully deployed into the air instead of the ground. The spikes of the caltrops were tough enough to puncture the missile's shaft as the accelerated through them, rupturing its flight system and causing it to tumble down towards a wall. It detonated inefficiently, blowing the wall up to pieces and sending its raw materials flying. A second explosion rose from the impact as flammable material, a gasoline tank from the market nearby, caught fire from a debris.
One of those debris was an iron bar. It whipped the air as it ricocheted from the explosion itself to the ground beside me, penetrating it and sticking out from it. I picked it up, inserted it into my piston, and ejected it with full speed.
The iron bar became a harpoon, snatching the second human from the air and hanging him to another electricity pole behind him as the "harpoon" went through it.
What was death? That I knew. Life ceases to exist when matched with death. Death conquers all things that living things hold precious. Was I afraid of death, when I myself did not even live yet?
Maybe. I shall forever remember Krieg as the human who was like me, indifferent about death. Ignorant of it.
***
The rest of the time has passed. There weren't that many men after all. Or at least, the men we had to fight. Gondar disposed of some of the men at East gate. He commented that they were "no match for his Jinada". And that we "would have to worry only about the Big Cheese". Finally, he added, "the rest of them left their comrades to die," and that some remarked that, "they weren't paid enough for this shit."
And what was a "Big Cheese"? It struck me as humorous. Quickly I connected the dots by thinking that this leader of the intruders was the one who had incapacitated Gondar. I prepared myself.
The three goblins had met us at the South gate, fashionably late, and from separate locations, together with the rest of the civilians they hadn't evacuated yet.
Plan E had already been working more than halfway through. And
Print S?
"Spleen, Spoon, status report, dood!" Squee acted perfectly. For the others, even for Boush, it wasn't acting. For them, it was natural. I ignored it. I ignored Squee's tactical brilliance and replaced it with my silence and stupidity as a machine. As a tool.
Spleen reported first, "Scourge; it's the Scourge, dood. ID'd as Banehallow, who goes by the name of Lycanthrope, dood. Scary.
Plan E almost finished, around seven left, dood. Here they are."
Spoon second, "
Print S... done. Here's the twenty-first land mine you asked for, dood." he gave him the Goblin Land Mine. "Remote Mines are almost zero, only three left, and those are inside, dood. So far, the mines outside have kept them at bay, and there seems to be only five left of the intruders. Orders, dood?"
"Continue
Plan E, doods. Get them safely out, dood." He walked up to Boush. "Here's an updated minimap, dood. It should show you where Dwarven Sniper is within three kilometers. Just to be safe, dood."
Boush nodded and took it with him with gratitude.
"Dwarven Sniper, eh?" Someone with a deep, dark voice uttered. He strolled idly past one entrance in flames, due to an explosion I didn't know the cause of. He wore a purplish-red coat, with a tinge of blood. His eyes glowed yellow, pale and deathly. An aura that surrounded him was that of nothing I had ever experienced. The Scourge, was that them? Was he part of them? Such darkness. My AI cannot comprehend it. It seems fiendish, much more so than KENOSES. I felt anxiety; anxiety that forced me to tread lightly.
"Banehallow!" Gondar armed himself and drew his shurikens.
"Easy... relax." he walked slowly forward with a light smile for innocence, something I knew had gone extinct within him for a very long time. "I didn't come here for any bloodshed, though I assure you, there will be if you don't cooperate. My men have disarmed the rest of your land mines, all fifteen of them. That was always your trademark number, yes?" He exhibited such a strong presence that I failed to notice that he was holding Kiana, sobbing, within his tight grasp. Threat levels were at maximum.
"Let her go." Gondar demanded confidently. "The only bloodshed that has happened was within your men." He was ready to strike with his throwing weapons, and it would be accurate. I doubted it. He was underestimating this... Banehallow.
I remembered Krieg, whom Gondar had failed to consider in his equation.
He was part of the bloodshed.
He had lost his life. I was saddened that nobody would value this anytime soon. Angered. My hands clenched tightly, but for a reason AI could not fathom. AI will never understand. But AI is myself, how could that be?
"Gondar, no. I sense something amiss." I told him firmly. He eased up a little.
"Pawns, that's what they are. I'm here for the bigger picture. Easily... him." A finger was pointed at me and I froze. "Give him to me and I will let here free with no scratches--"
Kiana suddenly yelped.
"Oops, I guess with just
one scratch after all." Banehallow chuckled in delight. It seemed that he loved inflicting pain. A sadist. "No? No response? How extremely ignorant of you. Does her life mean nothing to you?" he asked us convincingly, like he was trying to persuade the world. He then howled deep into the night, like a crazed wolf. It was loud, deafening. Most of all, it was uncannily eerie. "Wolves!"
Two black wolves rose from behind him and leaped in front of us, growling menacingly, teeth bared, saliva dripping. They became invisible to our senses right after. Such deceit present among the Scourge, playing tricks with our perception.
"My wolves have been hungering for living flesh for sometime now, Goblin Techies. I haven't seen you since the War. How are things?" Banehallow inquired like nothing was happening. Like it was a sweet reunion of sorts.
"Much has happened, Lycanthrope." Squee answered sternly. "I see nothing has changed about you. You're still that arrogant buffoon with no hint of a functioning brain." No doods this time.
"Such insults, I find them irrelevant. Power is all that matters, and right now you have none. Spirit wolves, attack!"
"Tracking..." Gondar had put one wolf on the map, on his map. His eyes became ours. It was clear for us to see. The wolf pounced, claws ripping the air around us! The residents ran and evacuated themselves without us.
In mid-air, the tracked spirit wolf had a shuriken embedded on his chest. A second shuriken pushed the first one further in, slashing deep into its beatless heart. The animal from hell yelped and was caught at the edge of Gondar's blade by the neck. Gondar turned and sliced the wolf's head off with flair.
"They only show themselves when they attack!" Gondar motioned. "I cannot track the other one, pay attention!"
Banehallow laughed maliciously.
"Where is he... where is he... where is he..." Boush was frantic. "Gah!" he was knocked down by the wolf from behind with a strong force. I could not attack for I risk killing Boush in the process. "Help me!" he called out.
Gondar lifted his blade! The wolf was gone in an instant.
"No, no, no!" Boush immediately stopped Gondar from continuing, else he was the one to be cut in half. "Stop!"
The wolf reappeared after four seconds, gnawing at Gondar's right arm viciously. He would likely follow a pattern of disappearing after two point five seconds. Boush had to act now!
A blue stream of light came from Boush's mechanical hands. The laser erased the wolf from existence. The touched its body, and from it, the laser started eating away at it from the inside, turning the wolf into ashes. I detected radiations coming from Boush. For what it was,
LASER was simply light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation.
"Excellent job. Excellent." Banehallow would have applauded us right then and there if he wasn't holding Kiana hostage. And now he wasn't. I watched him dig his fangs straight into Kiana's throat. Everybody watched him with silence. Kiana could not scream, for her vocal cords were now ruptured. Medical experts like that of Dr. Feak inputted that slitting the throat gives the experience of asphyxiation, not only a deep incision that cuts that major arteries in the neck that bleeds the person to death. Her throat wasn't cut, it was torn off.
She dropped to the ground, blood gushing out of her now open neck. If there was an afterlife, she would meet Krieg there. I hoped there was. For her.
"Delicious." Banehallow remarked. The rest of us were quiet. Silence for her death.
However, Gondar could only scream in rage. He charged towards him with full force, which reminded me once more of Krieg. "You bastard!" he said, enraged.
"Fool!" the Lycanthrope expelled within all of us. Gondar blocked my view of Banehallow at the moment of his attack. And then... he was thrown away! A purple demonic wolf twice the size of his spirit wolves emerged from where Banehallow was standing. It only occured to me then that that
was Banehallow. He was now a full Lycanthrope, a shapeshifter. He howled at the full moon that lit the darkness of the night. I could not imagine the strength of that wolf, claws ready to rip anything to ribbons, decimating anything worth containing life.
"Run! Everybody run!" Boush called out immediately.
"Spleen, Spoon, go with them. I will meet you out soon." Squee ordered without remorse. This was no longer a time to pretend, I realized for him. "Hurry."
"No! No! Not now." Spleen begged. "Please."
"It has to be now. Or we will all die. You have seen him during the Old War. He is ruthless. Go now, or risk the death of us all." he convinced him. No movement. "Go!" he shouted once more.
"Spleen, we have never gone against his orders. Let us not disobey him now." Spoon took Spleen and ran with us. I stopped to look back for no reason at all.
Squee walked calmly up to the growling lycanthrope. "You know, Banehallow, you've been standing there for so long, you've easily triggered my Stasis Trap. And now..." The Stasis Trap detonated immediately, releasing poisonous toxins in area that seemed to paralyze the wolf. Powerful neurotoxins were now coursing through his veins. "...you can't move for as long as I like." Squee stepped towards Kiana and gave her a prayer from his tribe, perhaps from Kalimdor, like he had mentioned. "Pretty potent, eh?"
"Damn... you..." Banehallow struggled even to speak.
"Nobody can stop you, not with your speed. Especially in that form. Only I can." he picked up one of the needles that came from the trap. "This is a needle coated by a very efficient neurotoxin I learned to extract from the saliva of a netherdrake, only ten times more powerful with the help of a little voodoo from my friend Vol'Jin. Now, it courses through your circulatory system and goes directly to your nerves. Here is the result."
"You can't kill me..."
"Yes, I can't. Not with my mines, not even if I shove one down your throat. You'll just live again. This time, I have to kill you for good. This is why I told Spoon to plant in a
Print S position.
Print Suicide."
"That wouldn't be... enough..." Banehallow couldn't move at all!
"True, to an extent. You disarmed all my mines. You did. But you forgot about the feature I built into all of them. Once I plant a twenty-first mine, the oldest one goes off." Squee explained, delighted and satisfied. It seemed he waited a long time for this.
"Rattletrap! Move!" Boush called from behind me. I couldn't, not yet.
"The oldest one... ahh, here it is." Squee shifted some dirt and picked up another mine. "This time I will really shove it down your throat." And he did. "Now I only have four remote mines you failed to disarm, and all four of them are at this South entrance. One is enough to help me kill you."
"Still not enough..."
"Oh, it will be enough. It will. In a matter of seconds, I'll be ending my life for the greater good. And that is to erase your very existence from this universe." Squee grinned.
Boush came back from me. I couldn't look anymore and so he carried me and took me to the nearby hills that overlooked the compound. The rest of the residents were there, wondering what was happening. I was, too. I could not believe Squee's words.
<Suicide Squad, Attack!> It was Squee's voice.
A mushroom cloud erupted from the compound, sending a humongous shockwave that shook every tree and leaf within the vicinity. The explosion lit the night as if it were noon and the tip of the mushroom must have touched the clouds. Two more shockwaves, smaller this time and one after the other, hit us and each stopped my processing like it would stop a heartbeat. Squee did it. But Squee was gone, forever.
No, he lives forever in my memory as the Hero who gave his life to save us all.
CHAPTER 5
"They just radioed in." Boush said as he strolled forward into the night. It was midnight, pitch black except for the full moon that watched us walk across plains and small imbalances of land masses called hills. There was no transportation available, Spoon had deduced that none had survived the explosion even before he got there to assess the aftermath. Squee was definitely gone.
Our objective for the meantime was to reacquaint with Kardel Sharpeye, a ranged weapons engineer who may have insight on my decaying power core. There is less than twenty percent power remaining; it would suffice for the trip. Our only fears then were not monsters, nor things that go bump in the night, but a retaliation from the faction called "The Scourge". Those fears grew less and less as morning approached, and as we moved far away from the unknown lands of the Neutrals and the treachery of the lands of the Scourge. Flowering trees and the occasional Sentinels dotted the landscape and forestry. We ventured through all of them, through a path set out by Squee himself on the minimap.
Gondar was gone most of the time, scouting ahead for anything and everything. He had not reported for a very long while, as there was much land to cover. Boush and I tromped through the grass of the plains and reached a small valley-like trench, with fifty-five feet high cliffs. Looking up, a stone bridge connected the two cliffs and served as a main trade route. Beneath it, however, was nothing. Odd, to have built a house here. It would be mostly secluded, especially during the night.
A straight, narrow stretch of land was laid in this trench and went all the from where we to stood to a place too dark for normal eyes to see. He would have the range advantage should intruders come. No other entrance.
"What did they inform you?" I asked.
"That the situation regarding the compound was 'nothing they can't fix'. Squee however, he's really gone. They looked everywhere. They searched the basement of the Headquarters and found a message from Squee. A video. They didn't reveal the contents, they just wanted us to come back as soon as possible 'when it all blows over' to see it." Boush explained. "I wonder what it is."
"Squee told me he had something to do before he asked me to go find the both of you. Maybe that was it." I recalled. Initiating playback.
"Telepathy. Crazy, I admit. It's within us. Just... forget it. I have said too much. Go now! I will meet you at the South gate in fifteen minutes with directions. I have to handle something here. I will send Spleen and Spoon to that gate soon as well."
Playback finished. I was wondering as well. Imagination. I imagined it to be his last words. But what is this imagination? I am nothing but a machine, programmed to follow orders and to complete my mission. I must not forget my objectives. This quest is nothing but to make sure they are attained.
Isn't it?
"Whatever it is, it must not be--" A beep. Tiny, distinct. It was a beep, and it was getting more frequent as we continued to walk. We stopped to study it, and it retained frequency. "The minimap's beeping. Maybe we're exactly three kilometers away now. Like he had said."
"Why did he add, 'just to be safe'?"
"Because that's what he is. He's a sniper. He might not recognize me in this darkness. Where is--"
A gunshot erupted and echoed throughout the small ravine. It caught my attention immediately. The sound came from in front of us. It knocked loose the little dirt that would have crumbled from our sides.
"He's-- he's a good shot..." Gondar appeared right before us, grasping his frail-looking arm. He was bleeding from a rifle wound to his biceps. He was shot by someone, deep within the crevices of this trench.
"Gondar! You've been hit!" Boush panicked at the sight of Gondar's injury. "It must be Kardel! I can't tell him to stop! We're too far away!" Another gunshot. Since the bullets should be faster than the speed of sound at this distance, I saw the bullet ricochet from Boush's metal limbs and into the ground before the shockwave from the gunpowder reached our senses.
"He intentionally missed that... one. I was moving really quickly and he still hit me. The second was a warning shot. Think quickly! I doubt the next one... will still be." Gondar was in pain from his injury, and he had a reason to be. Only recovering from his previous injuries, the gunshot wound opened up his arteries on his upper arm. Still, the draenei's circulatory system was holding up. It should be able to withstand much more than a human ever could.
"My flare. Rearm me." I told Boush. "I need to fire my flare."
"You won't reach him at that distance! He'll shoot the flare off before it even travels half a kilometer!" he remarked.
"I am not aiming for him. Hurry, rearm me."
Boush moved brusquely towards me. "I hope you know what you're doing. This should only take a second. Rearming." He fiddled with something behind me and complex machinery did the rest of the work. "Done."
Weapons check. Ammunition full. Weapons optimized. Initiating RF launch sequence. Launched successfully.
A flare shout out, traveling with just the right stability, into the air and exploded into a vibrant white light, instead of the usual red color. I understood white to be the color for surrender during the war, and right now we might as well do so. It seems to have worked. He should have seen us clearly under the bright light.
"He stopped firing. Did it work?" Boush looked around warily, and took a step forward. To his surprise, the Dwarven Sniper fired again! This time, it wasn't a bullet, but a grappling hook of sorts. It was perfectly aimed at the exposed tree root near us. It held on tightly. A radio was attached to it.
"Aye, is that you, Tinker?" a dwarf's voice came from the speakers. It was a two-way radio. "Come up to this 'ere radio and talk to me."
Boush walked forward and took the radio with his tiny goblin hands, with a bit of a smile. "Yes, Sir Kardel, um, sir. I'm here with some companions." he almost stuttered.
"Aye, I apologize for shootin' yer friend. My mistake. Been smellin' a bloodhound lately. From the Scourge. Only comes durin' the night. You and yer friends better 'urry up, now. I've got some medicine to cure that sting I gave that draenei." the marksman named Kardel told us with a dwarven laugh at the end.
***
The two living beings entered the small house panting. Gondar was trying to regain his composure; his arm had stopped bleeding already but it was clear he was still in pain.
Outside, the house looked rundown, to say the least. Loose shingles made the creaking roof look like a chessboard; some had already fallen on the ground. The windows were blurred due to the dust that had been collected over the weeks, with a thinking that this "Hero" of the old War at least cleans his windows every week or so. The zigzag metal chimney puffed smoke coming from the fireplace, although it made me curious as to where he gets his wood supply, dwindling as I noticed his collection of logs. It seemed like a lumberjack's place, complete with tree stump and axe.
Inside, the house was even more topsy-turvy. Clearly, this dwarf wasn't expecting any guests for a very long time. Even if he
was expecting guests, he'd have shot them off, anyway. Littered books, misplaced furniture, flickering lights, and the springs bouncing off the couch were just a few examples of the mess that had occurred throughout the years.
I was expecting a garage, or workshop. And I saw it, stashed in seclusion in the next dark room. Once the lights were on, I saw that it was perfectly maintained. Gun parts, scopes, ammunition of all sorts, springs, bolts, wrenches, and screws. The ones needed were hung on one side, while the finished products were hung on the other. He carefully placed the "boomstick" he used back on the display, which was a misconception as boomsticks were generally reserved for sawed-off shotguns or longer 12-gauge double-barrel shotguns, whereas his accuracy entails that it's not going to be used for that reason. Clearly, this is where his meticulous manner comes in.
"Let me get somethin' for yer wound, draenei." he passed his with a pat on the shoulder of his injured limb, causing Gondar to be in more pain. I wonder whether or not he did that on purpose. "It was a gift to me durin' me old Sentinel days. Where the 'ell is it, now?" he rustled through his shelves. I didn't expect him to find it, really.
"A potion, perhaps, sir?" Boush, or as Dwarven Sniper had referred to him, Tinker, said.
"Close. Aye! 'ere it is!" he retrieved a small green container of sorts, with an unpleasant looking fluid inside of it. "The 'ealing Salve. Quite popular during my time in the Old War. Nothing like that fancy glowing Mekasmic device of yours, Tinker, but it should do the job." he carelessly open the container and spilled the liquid on Gondar's wound. "There we go." he tossed the container aside somewhere, which seems to be what he did for all his other things. He sat on the small armchair nearby, "Now, what brings you 'ere?"
***
"And that's pretty much it." Boush finished explaining, a bit exhausted.
"I've 'eard worse tales. And by worse I mean the characters are already dead." he ran through his beard with his aging, but precise fingers. "Sounds like you've got yerselves quite the dilemma. Let me take a look."
"Badjuu? Her... na... lice? Boush-sh-sh? I--" Gondar hiccuped. "I'm... dizz-z-zy?"
"Gondar's threat levels havewe decreased upon scanning. He is disabled." I said as soon as the Dwarven Sniper went for a few tools. A screwdriver of sorts. A monkey wrench. Primitive tools that did the job. Living things and their ingenuity. I am their product. I am also a tool. Just a tool that talks and moves on its own, but still a tool. A tool for what, then?
"Ahh, the salve must be..." he paused. Everybody waited for what he was going to say. The night had become so silent that I could easily hear the chill breeze outside, the dry leaves from withering, neglected plants rustling, and the living tumbleweeds rolling, picking up whatever moisture that was left to survive, with minimum settings on my auditory sensors.
Boush looked at the label. "...expired? It must be leaving an intoxicating effect similar to alcohol due to its intricate fermenting potential. Gondar? Oh, he's out. Draeneis succumb to alcohol immediately."
Panic. Something was wrong. I had never set anything to minimum, not until I realized it now. Not until AI processed my sensors right this moment.
Power routes unstable. Rerouting away from main power source. Running on emergency power. All functions set to minimum efficiency.
Those were the processes run. I know my emergency power would not last long. It wasn't built to last long. It was built to last for five minutes for darker reasons. Should my power source be severed, emergency power stored in two-inch battery cells was hidden deep within an impenetrable casing, much tougher than any plating I was wearing. The power source would be expected to sever only in combat after sustaining massive damage, and this would suffice for me to finish the kill, should my prey fight back.
My power routes were not severed. They were right. It was decaying, enough to render it completely useless. I would be shutting down soon. I must relay this information immediately! Before... I dread thinking about it. Processing it.
"My power routes have been cut off. I am running on emergency power. There is not--"
The time is nearing, the time I most despise. KENOSES.
A blip. A tiny blip.
"Be... careful." The sound was no more than a whisper.
10-30-2010, 05:04 AM
Synopsis/Updates
