Chapter Sixty – The Enemy Won’t Do As You Wish
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Chapter Sixty - The Enemy Won't Do As You Wish

“Vanguard have got something of a knack for things. Look, I ain’t saying they’re magic or anything, they’re not Jedi or wizards or whatever. They just... you know, they’ve got a little something that makes them stand out.

You think them brain-AI just picks any git off the street?”

--Curb-side interview, 2034

***

“Myalis,” I said.

Yes, Catherine?

Myalis’ voice was, as ever, calm, which was reassuring when I was so very close to having my ass eaten by a whole heap of aliens, and not in the fun way. “I need a way to kill all these fucks real fast-like,” I said.

How much collateral damage are you willing to accept responsibility for?

I bit my lip at the question. That was terrifying to hear. “However much would result in the most dead aliens,” I said.

That’s easily arrangeable. Your main issue isn’t killing the antithesis. You’ve proven quite capable at that. Your problem is getting your explosive payload delivered to the Antithesis. Honestly, you might be best served with a slight change in tactics. I have some options for short-to-midrange weapons that can weaken or outright kill most weaker Antithesis.

“What kind of weapon?” I asked.

The High Intermittency Sound Scrambler is a device you can fit onto your armour that would act as your resonators do, though with greatly increased efficiency.

“You just want to give me something called a HISS while I’m distracted, don’t you?”

That may play a role in my proposal. Though it would be effective in keeping you alive.

“Fine, but I want to kill things more than I want to stay alive. Not that I don’t want to... fuck, you know what I meant.”

A box appeared by my feet, and I popped it open. It was relatively small, with a badge-like device within it that was round, maybe the size of my palm, and with a few concentric circles within a metal case.

Just apply that to your armour. It will stick on and mesh with your stealth systems. The system will activate on its own when an Antithesis is near. The sound might interrupt any attempts at stealth though.

I smacked the HISS against my upper chest and it stayed on with a clunk. Then I poked my head back up and over the debris wall.

The renewed shelling had pushed the nearest part of the swarm back, but they were starting to run up towards us again, gaining speed as they covered more ground, leapt over craters and slipped around the roasting bodies of other dead aliens.

Gomorrah found a chunk of cement to stand on, then she raised herself up so that her torso poked out above the debris. She shifted her flamethrower around so that it clunked onto a broken piece of fallen masonry, then she started to spray.

The liquid fire splashed out ahead of her and Gomorrah slowly swept her flamethrower from left to right.

The horde didn’t stop just because the ground had turned into a flaming mess. They charged through the smoke and paid for it an instant later as they cooked alive. The bigger models pushed into the fires as well, just as heedless as the smaller, though the more clever among them used the bodies of the fallen as stepping stools.

“Keep it up!” I shouted. “Myalis, nades.”

A grenade appeared in the air next to me and I caught it, recognizing it as one of those black-hole bombs. I pulled the pin, then tossed it forwards and in an arc that had the bomb going off just as it slipped past the edge of Gomorrah’s fire.

We had a slight chokepoint ahead of us, what with the buildings serving as funnels towards the rest of the city. The roads created long, narrow strips that the antithesis had to use, and there was little cover for them there.

“Cat,” Gomorrah said.

“Yeah?” I asked. I brought my Bullcat up and laid into a model five that was trampling its way through the fire.

“I don’t think we’re doing any more good here than we would back behind the barricades,” Gomorrah said. She flinched back as one of those artillery balls exploded above us and sent pins scattering against the debris.

I glanced ahead, then back across the no man's land.

“Fuck,” I muttered. “You’re right. Can we hold for a minute? Myalis, reload the mine-layer cats and get them back out here. We’ll keep the aliens back long enough to have the area trapped for when the next wave arrives, alright?”

“Fine,” Gomorrah said.

My favourite nun peeked out over the edge of the wall we were using for cover, then she reached to the small of her back and came out with a pistol of all things.

I was about to question why she was about to use that instead of her flamethrower when she whipped around our cover and fired.

I followed the arcing trajectory of the projectile she fired. It glowed, like a flare, and descended right atop the model fifteen that had likely been the bastard flinging spike balls at us. The flare exploded, sending burning motes of something down across the street and onto the model fifteen.

Even from afar, I could tell that whatever those motes were, they were hot as hell. The model fifteen writhed as it burned.

“Nice shot!” I said before slipping out of cover. I fired until my gun clicked empty, then dove back down while it reloaded.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Gomorrah said.

“What part?”

She gestured ahead of us. “The constant waves. They’re wasting biomass for nothing. I know the Antithesis aren’t too smart sometimes, but this seems wasteful.”

I almost dismissed what she said. It was easy and nice to assume that your enemy was a dumbass.

The problem with that was, that as a dumbass myself, I knew that underestimating idiots was sometimes a bad idea. “You think they’re up to something else?” I asked.

“They might be stalling,” Gomorrah proposed.

I shook my head. If they wanted to stall, all they had to do was nothing, and we’d be sitting pretty behind our walls for a bit longer.

Were they going to hit another area and this was a distraction? But no, we’d see them coming. Above? The wall had pretty good AA. And the family would have noticed huge flocks moving around if they were planning to attack all-out from above.

Which left below.

“Myalis, I’ve got a hunch,” I said.

I’m listening.

“Do we have any sort of ground-sensors in the area?”

There are several. Though currently their readings are complicated by the presence of so many heavy vehicles and drones by the walls. Not to mention the combat and explosive-use.

“I... would it be stupid to ask the Family to check? It’s just a hunch.”

You are a Vanguard. You were chosen for a multitude of reasons, including your instincts. Your hunches are worth more than others.

“Thanks,” I said.

It doesn’t mean you’re not wrong. Frequently. And humorously.

I chuckled. “You’re the kindest,” I said.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Jimothy said. “But I’ve got an ounce of experience with ground-related things. If you two are busy I can get something and check on your hunch, Miss Stray Cat.”

“That would be appreciated,” Gomorrah said. “Go ahead, Crackshot.”

“Oh, I think I’m liking the name. Not sure I’ve earned it yet though,” he said. “Give me just a minute.”

Gomorrah glanced my way. “You think they’re under us?”

“Has the Family shut down all the connections between New Montreal and this part of the city?” I asked.

According to the Family’s reports, yes. Though it is possible some unmarked infrastructure remains.

“Are there any sorts of Antithesis that can dig then?” I asked.

The Antithesis Model Eight and Eighteen can both dig.

Model Eights were those big worm ones that carried food back to the hives. It figured that they could dig, they were worms. I figured a model eighteen was just more of the same.

I heard a shift from behind me. A few screams and a pause in some of the gunfire, though the shooting had died down a little around our section ever since Gomorrah and I moved to the front.

“Oh, hells,” Crackshot said.

I spun around. “What is it?” I asked.

Then I saw one of those big tanks sitting by the back tip over onto its side. Then, much to my surprise and everyone else’s, the tank was thrown back. Several hundred tons of metal bounced up, flew a dozen paces back, then crashed down.

A moment later, long black limbs started to press out of the ground.

“Misses,” Crackshot said. “I think we might be needing you back here.”

***

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