Chương 33: Setting the Trap

Brittany folded her arms again, looking him up and down.

"Potentia, huh? For your aura system?" Hector nodded.

"What will you do? Gain a level or something?"

"Yeah, but not by tonight. Still, I want to start the process."

"In my pack—middle pouch. I've got some protein bars."

"Water?" She sighed.

"Yeah, but I only have three day's worth for myself in that bag—" Hector turned and reached into the car, lifting out her pack. It was heavy.

"We just need to make it through tonight. Then we turn the tables."

"I guess so," she said, walking over.

"You really think they'll hit us after dark?" He shrugged, unzipping the bag.

"I would." He found her stash of protein bars and took two of them. As he straightened, ripping the wrapper open with his teeth, she took over with the pack, retrieving a pouch of water for each of them. He took the drink, already chewing a mouthful of chalky, chocolate-flavored protein meal, and she continued to eye him speculatively.

"Why don't you have any supplies? You just came to my place empty-handed?" She pointed to his backpack.

"What about your bag?" He swallowed and said, "Just a jammer." He glanced at his AUI, ensuring the device was off, then an idea hit him.

"Got a place we can plug it in?"

"You mean to charge it? Yeah."

"What about an antenna?" She frowned, turning to look at one of the big floodlight towers.

"Maybe we can rig something?"

"Hang on." Mentally, he queried Evie, What do you think? //You could use the batteries in the light tower to boost the power and connect your makeshift jammer to the tower frame. It'll allow you to increase the jamming radius significantly. //"My AI says it's doable." He nodded as he chewed, thinking it over. If they could create enough noise, it would mess with the mercs' comms, and it might add to the confusion. Hector could wreak havoc in the chaos…

"You've got an AI?" Hector nodded.

"AI, aura system, ghost chip—what don't you have?"

"Food, I guess." Hector took another bite, chewing slowly. He could explain that everything she'd listed was basically the same thing—all part of his neurodeck—but that was a lot of talking, and he was already talked out. He decided just to shrug and change the topic.

"Where's your gun?" She was still frowning at his quip about "food," and his further non-answer didn't help. Even so, she turned to peer toward the back corner of the awning and pointed.

"Back there. I'll go get it." Hector watched her go, her boots crunching on the gravel. He liked her, and he hoped he didn't get her killed, but the odds weren't looking good. If Tacitianus sent all his mercs, those were rough odds. He didn't think he would, though; men like that weren't likely to leave themselves vulnerable. No, he'd keep three, maybe even four back. Hector liked those odds a lot better. He lowered himself into the car again, sitting in his blood-stained seat.

That's right, scum, split up your men. He ripped the second protein bar open and started eating. Evie, how much for level four? //Twenty potentia. // Go ahead. //20 potentia applied. Corpus Vivum conditioning has begun. Approximately 17 hours to complete level advancement. Disorientation, weakness, and even fleeting incapacitation may occur. Extra caloric intake is recommended.

// If Hector thought there was a real chance that he'd suffer "fleeting incapacitation," he wouldn't have started the process, but he'd gotten through the first couple of level-ups without significant incident, and his body was getting more and more used to potentia; he didn't think there was much to worry about. He was regretting his Brawler archetype choice, though. If he'd taken Watcher, he figured he might have picked up an ability or two that would help out with setting an ambush.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered, pushing the useless thought exercise aside. Footsteps crunching on gravel told him Brittany was approaching, so he opened his eyes and peered through the doorway. She had a scoped rifle over her shoulder, and judging by the magazine, it wasn't an energy weapon.

"What's that? Seven-six-two?" She shook her head, shifting a heavy-looking green satchel on her other shoulder.

"Six-point-five. Less punch, maybe, but I can hammer nails at over a klick." Hector arched an eyebrow.

"That so?" She nodded, thumping her fingers on the gun's matte-black stock. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"We should get you set up soon. Before they get a drone out here." She narrowed her eyes.

"You think a drone won't see me laying out with my rifle?" With a grunt, Hector grabbed the edge of the car door and pulled himself to his feet. He turned to scan the gravel yard outside the awning. After a few seconds, he pointed to one of the distant piles of larger-sized rocks. It looked almost like a natural hill thanks to the wind-blown dirt and weeds that had grown between the stones.

"We'll dig you a foxhole in the side of that pile." He figured the stones would retain heat, which would mess with a drone, and they'd also give her cover when she started shooting. Brittany stared at the distant pile for a moment, then started walking toward it. Hector followed. She glanced at him as the gravel crunched under their feet.

"You don't talk much." Pushing his luck, he asked, "Did he?"

"Yeah—it's why I said something. It's messing with my head, because one minute I think you look just like him, and then, a second later, you seem like a totally different person."

"I am."

"Yeah, I need to remember that. I hope you're not lying to me, Hector—about how it all went down, how you got his body." He shook his head.

"I'm not lying, Brittany." He'd used her name because she'd used his, but it felt wrong, and she scowled at him.

"Just Britt. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Only our dad— my dad—called me Brittany." Hector nodded, scanning the skyline as they walked. There was little chance he'd spot a drone if one were trying to hide, but he figured it didn't hurt to be vigilant. He hoped they were early enough hiding Britt.

"What are you going to do while I'm buried in this rock pile trying to line up shots?"

"I'll put the mercs where you can shoot 'em."

"You can use my shotgun." She jerked her chin back toward the awning and her car.

"More shells in my pack."

"Thanks. I will—at first." When they reached the pile, and Hector stooped to shift one of the larger rocks near the middle, she stood back, watching. His shoulder twinged with the effort, but the skin held together. The nanites she'd given him really had been good. He continued to pull out stones, piling them in a semi-circle with other, larger ones for support. After a minute, as he grunted and strained with a big stone, Britt unslung her rifle and ammo bag and helped shift it into place.

"You think we're gonna die here tonight?" Hector shook his head.

"No."

"His mercs aren't nobodies. They'll have equipment—guns, armor. They'll be coordinated, they'll—""Good." She straightened, scowling.

"What the hell does that mean?" Hector sighed, brushing his hands together to knock off some of the red dirt.

"If they're good—if they have good equipment—they'll be confident."

"And that's good?" He nodded.

"Means they won't bring the whole team." He stooped to move another rock. He looked at Britt, saw the worry in her eyes, and added, "Besides, they still want information. They'll have to pull their punches." Of course, he didn't add that they only needed one of them alive to get those answers. As she mulled over his words, Britt pitched in again, and soon they'd dug a sizeable burrow out of the stone mound, stacking rocks in a partial wall around the opening with a pair of perfect gaps for her rifle barrel.

When they finished, she brushed her hands off and picked up her gun and ammo bag.

"Should I get in now?" Hector nodded.

"I should move." He didn't want to give her position away by standing near it.

"Well, um…" she trailed off as she climbed over the low rock wall into the cavity.

"Good luck," Hector said, his mouth automatically forming a crooked half-smile. Britt nodded.

"Yeah. Good Luck." Hector turned and jogged lightly over the gravel lot back to the awning. When he reached Britt's car, he took her shotgun out, then dug through her pack for a box of shells. Setting the gun on the roof, he removed ten shells from the box and put them in his pockets. Then he dug through the pack until he found what he'd been hoping for—a multi-tool. He pocketed the little matte-black device. Sadly, a further inspection of the pack didn't produce anymore trauma injectors.

He put Britt's pack in the car, then took his out. Gonna need you to help me rig this jammer. //Of course. Find the most central light post. I suggest this one. // Hector's mini-map updated with a flashing yellow X about five meters away. He slung the shotgun over his shoulder and jogged over to the post. It took him a while to pry the access panel off the post with the multi-tool, but eventually he removed the screws, exposing the battery.

Evie guided him in cutting the wires and splicing them into his jury-rigged jammer, and then they used the wire that was meant to power the bulb at the top of the post as an antenna. It meant the light wouldn't work, but Hector preferred that. When he was done, he walked around the lot and used the multi-tool to uncover the panels for all the lights, powering them all off.

He figured with his retinal implants and Britt's rifle optics, they might as well get used to the dark; the mercs would probably put the lights out, anyway. When he'd done everything he could, he returned to the awning, found a rock pile with a view of the gate, and hunkered down, waiting. //I have an update about your memory reconstruction. Would now be a bad time? // Hector sighed, closing his eyes briefly.

"Is it bad news?" he asked, letting the wind swallow his voice. //I'd say it's neutral. // Just give it to me. //Reconstruction status: 90. 3% of corrupted data recovered. Projected permanent loss: 6. 252%// //I can project your permanent loss will not change by more than a tenth of a percent as the process completes. // That's neutral to you? //No! I wanted to tell you that the term "permanent" is not accurate.

A large percentage of those "lost" memories still exist, though they are fragmented and the neurodeck's algorithms cannot properly place them in a coherent timeline. The neurodeck's default methodology in such a case is to excise them, but if I left them in place, you may randomly access them—most likely while you sleep. // So I could dream these missing memories? //Some of them! // If they're there. If you are aware of these fragmented memories, why can't you just read them?

Put them in out of order; I don't give a damn! //They are too fragmented for my algorithms, Hector. The human mind is capable of growing connections, given time, that elude my capabilities. If you manage to process them, we'll both gain access, but there's a good chance they'll only ever be fragments. // Is it going to hurt me if you don't… excise? //The fear is that disjointed memories stirred up during inopportune times might impact a subject's sanity. I don't see that happening to you.

// Hector grunted, scanning the darkening countryside. Despite terraforming efforts, the atmosphere was still thinner on Mars than on Earth, and the emerging starscape overhead was enough to steal his attention. While he gazed at those stars, strangely content in his youthful body despite the dried gore stiffening his clothes and the damage he'd suffered earlier, he found it hard to reconcile his current existence with Hector Finalis, a veteran of the Imperial Guard, graduate of the Aegis Collegium.

He felt like an imposter trying to sort out two identities, neither of which quite fit.

"Just keep the damn memories intact." //Understood. If you want—// Quiet! Hector mentally hissed the word as he leaned forward, pressing close to the pile of rocks behind which he hunkered. He'd seen a flicker of reflected light out on the barren scrubland, and as he focused, Evie increased the gain on his augmented eyes. He saw a shadow slinking along in the lee of a low hill. A feral smile split Hector's lips as he clutched Britt's shotgun. It seemed their guests had arrived.